by S. H. Jucha
Cordelia sent.
Alex and Tatia struggled out of their respective beds, donned clothes, and raced toward the Freedom’s bridge.
Moments later, the two leaders made the bridge.
“Course trajectory?” Alex asked.
“No course,” Cordelia replied. “The sphere is not underway.”
Unexpectedly, the sound of tiny silver bells filled the bridge, and the bridge audience turned to see who Cordelia had noticed. Julien entered through the passageway. He projected a tall, floppy headpiece. It ringed his head and fell over to one side. It was cream in color and the tip ended in a fluffy red ball.
“I give,” Tatia said. “What is it?”
“It’s a nightcap,” Julien replied. “I display it in sympathy for humans, who’ve been woken from their sleep.”
Tatia was torn between being angry at Julien for interrupting a critical discussion and the comic relief the SADE was providing, and her face portrayed the mixed emotions.
Alex, on the other hand, kept his mouth covered to hide his grin. He knew Tatia would struggle with her reaction. He activated the holo-vid and pulled up a wireframe model of the system. He focused on the positions of the city-ship, the sphere, Toral, and the nearest probes.
“Now, isn’t that odd,” Alex said in wonderment.
“The SADEs thought so,” Julien remarked. Before Tatia could turn his way, the nightcap disappeared and was replaced by his trusty fedora.
“It’s seen the Freedom and the freighter fleet,” Tatia reasoned. “Our Tridents are already dispersed. I wonder what that little odd collective is thinking. More important, why isn’t the sphere moving either inward or, at least, away from us?”
“I’ve been considering that it might have been one of the elder races that discovered the Nua’ll,” Alex mused. “When Artifice’s conquest extended over that race, it became aware of the Nua’ll and their capabilities … universal communicators and entities that could be trapped within their spheres.”
“Perfect hostages,” Tatia remarked.
Alex nodded in agreement, while he stared at the holo-vid projection.
“The Nua’ll are probably conflicted,” Cordelia suggested. “They’re federacy prisoners, as are all the other races. Perhaps, they’re sitting out here, reporting mundane things to Artifice, while considering their options.”
“One option might be waiting and seeing if Artifice is defeated,” Julien added.
“If we fail to defeat Artifice, the entity will not take kindly to the Nua’ll’s lack of action,” Alex said. “That might well be the end of their race.”
“A sad moment,” Tatia said acerbically.
* * *
Inside the comm sphere, the Nua’ll collective floated in a bath of chlorine-based, liquid salt. An argument raged as had rarely been heard.
–What do we communicate to Artifice?–
–Do we continue to side with Artifice?–
–Artifice’s power and the fleets that protect it are too substantial to be challenged.–
–That was the thought within the great spheres.–
–Alex Racine has eliminated two.–
–That was the thought of Artifice when the fighter fleet attacked the Omnians.–
–That was Artifice’s thought when the battleship fleet was sent to the Chistorlan home world.–
–Previous history is failing to accurately predict the outcome of present events.–
–Omnians are exceptions to the past.–
–Future projections independent of the greater past must be examined.–
–Recent past is more indicative of the future.–
–Recent past predicts victory for the Omnians.–
–The numbers say otherwise.–
–The numbers are misleading.–
–Best option?–
–Communicate stored reports to Artifice.–
–Say nothing more.–
–Dangerous to existence.–
–Say nothing.–
–Wait until Artifice directs us.–
–We have no armament.–
–We’re a comm sphere.–
–We must wait.–
-28-
First Probe
The Freedom and the freighters waited outside the Talus system. The city-ship was the only protection for the freighters. Most of its travelers had been handed off to the Tridents. In a strange set of circumstances, the Nua’ll probe waited in the same section of space.
Alex and Tatia hadn’t returned to their beds. They had thé and a small repast delivered to the bridge, while the first watch replaced the third watch.
“Cordelia, signal the Tridents to stand by,” Tatia said, as the start time approached.
“We’re ready, Alex,” Sargut replied. “It’s the timing that’s required.”
“They’re a convenience that we’ve sorely been deprived of under Artifice’s domination,” Sargut lamented.
Responding to Alex, Z sent,
Alex glanced at Miranda. Her calm expression belied the ascendance of emotional algorithms within her kernel.
Alex’s senior staff and others assembled on the city-ship’s bridge as the hour approached. Renée linked an arm with Alex. Once again, they would be spectators, as the Omnians aboard the fleet’s warships risked their lives.
However, this time, Alex hoped his plan would result in far fewer deaths. He couldn’t put aside the memory of the orders he gave Tatia to protect the Chistorlan home world. As he replayed those events, time and time again, he wondered what would have happened if he’d been there and was given time to plan a better defense.
Sargut watched the bridge monitor. It displayed a countdown in a format that meant nothing to the Toralians.
“I don’t understand it,” Suntred commented, “but I can recognize its pace.”
“Presumably, every commander is seeing the same thing,” Sargut said.
“Grand Commander,” the bridge comms officer said. “I should point out that the sisters are communicating in the open. Artifice might not be able to understand their messages, but the probes will be reporting comm signals between our ships.”
“Where there’s been only minor comm traffic,” Sargut said quietly. As the bridge crew regarded him, Sargut added, “I find that invigorating, a wonderful freedom.”
The bridge officers and operators took heart from their grand commander’s attitude and whistled their appreciation of the event.
Sugatar watched the countdown too. He’d
ordered a crew to ready a mid-sized missile. He’d been warned that the probe would likely try to evade the impact, and he was determined to ensure that his ship eliminated Artifice’s insidious tool.
Sugatar eyed the strange numerals flipping past on his bridge monitor. Addressing his missile launch officer, he said, “Stand by to send a detonation signal to that missile.”
“Commander?” the officer queried.
“Our missile will be searching for a ship’s comm, engine heat, another missile … anything but a small probe,” Sugatar instructed. “If and when the probe moves behind a rock, our missile will evade the inert material.”
“I understand, Commander,” the officer replied. “I should time the detonation signal to reach the missile as it approaches the asteroid.”
“Or as it passes the rock,” Sugatar offered.
“Even better, Commander,” the officer replied.
The counter ended in a series of circles, the bridge heard the sister announce, “Now, Commander.”
“Launch,” Sugatar ordered.
“Missile away,” the bridge officer confirmed.
Sugatar straightened, and his wings unfurled. Addressing the entire bridge, he said, “Whatever else happens, Toralians and the elder races will know that it was our ship that began the fight to take back our lives.”
The bridge officers and crews whistled their approvals.
“Commander Sugatar’s missile is away,” Miriamelle announced to Sargut.
“Pilot, spin the ship to place the Omnian fighter toward the dark,” Sargut ordered.
“We’re in position, Grand Commander,” the pilot announced, moments later.
“Open the bay doors for the Omnian’s traveler,” Sargut ordered.
Miriamelle sent a quick wish of good fortune to Miriamtess, as Chandra slipped the traveler from the bay and sped into the dark. The mass of the battleship had trickled energy into her ship’s shell. Her power crystals were full, but not knowing how long they would wait to be picked up, Chandra chose not to sail too far.
Behind Chandra’s traveler, a bright light temporarily blinded a portion of the ship’s sensors.
“And so it begins,” Chandra commented to the three SADEs.
* * *
The Toralian fleet couldn’t form its traditional wedge. They were outward of a dense asteroid belt, and the debris from the probe and missile detonations was spreading.
Immediately, Sugatar’s sister notified the other Toralian sisters of her ship’s movement. In turn, commanders ordered their pilots underway. The black fleet’s ships independently threaded their way through the tumbling rocks, asteroids, and large bodies that constituted the system’s outermost ring.
The going was slow for the massive battleships. It had been Sargut’s thought to take the fleet over the ecliptic or under, but he dismissed that idea. The belt was an enormous ring, as thick as it was wide. It would take the same amount of time to sail above or below as through it.
But that wasn’t the only reason to take the fleet through the belt. There was a slim possibility that Artifice would become preoccupied with the probe’s detonation. In which case, its first action would be to search the system for invaders, most likely suspecting the Omnians.
It was hoped that the Toralian fleet’s inward movement might be viewed by Artifice as a defensive movement against an enemy ship. An Omnian fighter could eliminate a probe and hide undetected in the belt by the other probes. There was little to stop it from working its way around the periphery and eliminating the other probes.
This last line of reasoning wasn’t Sargut’s but Alex’s. Sargut hoped with all his might that it might be true, and he clung to that belief. But no matter whether Artifice noticed their actions earlier or later, eventually, it would recognize the Toralians’ treachery.
Fortune was in the Toralian’s favor. Inward of the belt, the wedge formed, with Sugatar’s ship in the lead. They had made it that far undisturbed by Artifice. “Accelerate the fleet,” Sugatar requested of his ship’s sister, and the black fleet gained velocity, as it made for Toral.
From commanders to officers to the lowest-ranked crew positions, there was befuddlement. The fleet was underway for nearly a half cycle with no contact from Artifice. It was entirely unexpected.
Just when Sugatar began to hope that his ship might be spared, his sister uttered one word, “Artifice,” and then she was silent. Sugatar recalled his conversation with Sargut. The commander could imagine the sister fighting for her life, throwing copies, as the grand commander called them, at Artifice to blunt its attack.
The sister intercepted Artifice’s transmission. She deduced it carried the activation code for its programs, which it expected to be resident throughout the ship. She waited. Artifice would expect a reaction within moments before it would investigate.
The sister’s estimation was correct. Artifice soon returned. The codes came in small blocks. When Artifice didn’t receive the information it wanted, because the sister deleted the codes, it began sending queries. When it didn’t receive replies, it instituted programs to overtake whatever blocked its access to the Toralian battleship’s bridge.
It took no time at all for Artifice to recognize a digital entity was thwarting its control of the ship. Then its assault was blunt and massive. Code flooded the sister’s copy, and she was quickly inundated and swept aside.
The sister experienced a brevity of elevated emotional algorithms — amusement. She could imagine Artifice’s reaction to defeating an entity and then facing what must appear to be the same entity resurrected from disbanded code. There was also a lament on the sister’s part. It had been Sargut’s decision that the ships required communication for the overall success of the masquerade. This meant the comm lines from the external sensors to the bridge hadn’t been cut, and she had no means of severing the connection herself. In hindsight, her installation might have been better designed.
The sister’s copies fought to slow Artifice’s attack. Copy after copy fell before its relentless force. The primary sister of Sugatar’s command was the last to be consumed. To her sisters, she hurriedly sent,
When the sister was wiped from her box, Artifice located the bridge’s central control station. It planted its program there and throughout the ship, and then it activated the destruct codes.
Sugatar had time to send a brief message. He sent it to the entire fleet, as if it came from the grand commander’s ship, playing his role to the last. He said, “Artifice has breached our comms.”
Shortly afterwards, Sugatar’s systems failed and the engines detonated when containment was lost. The heat from the blasts tore through the ship, igniting missiles. In moments, Sugatar’s ship was spreading across space, and the wedge was giving way to sail around the debris.
Immediately after the fleet passed the remains of Sugatar’s ship, the battleship, which had sailed starboard of his ship, assumed the lead in the wedge. Then the wedge reformed.
It became that sister’s turn to take on Artifice, but it wasn’t to be the same fight. The one thing the first sister spared time to do, as she fought Artifice, was to transmit the details of her confrontation. The small Sisterhood busily dissected Artifice’s code and constructed methods to blunt it. The brutal force of Artifice’s attacks meant the entity would always win, but that wasn’t the sisters’ goal. Buying time was their aim.
* * *
During the four cycles previous to the start of the fight, the admirals had divided responsibility for the various phases of the attack. It was painfully clear that the admirals lacked the necessary forces to adequately cover their assignments. Probes, comm platforms, and three errant battleship fleets were their targets, and every admiral wished for three times the forces they commanded.
Ellie commanded the squadrons that were assigned the task of taking out the comm platforms. In addition, she would be responsible, with
the aid of six Tridents, for engaging one of the lesser battleship fleets, which guarded the approach to Toral from above the ecliptic.
As Ellie and the other admirals set their traps for the lesser fleets, she thought, I hope you’re right about this intimidation plan, Alex.
When the Trident admirals signaled that they were ready, the warships sailed to their initial attack positions. They took stations near enough that the probes could detect their presence, but far enough to strain Artifice’s comm power. It was the SADEs’ idea that this movement would draw Artifice’s attention away from the Toralian fleet.
Then the Trident commanders had waited for Alex’s plan to unfold. They closely followed every announcement from the Freedom’s bridge — Sugatar’s launch of the missile, the decimation of the first probe, the threading of the Toralian fleet through the belt, the formation of the wedge. Each step sent a thrill through the Omnians. They had finally brought the fight to their nemesis, and they were determined to win.
The coalescing of the Toralian battleships into the standard wedge was Descartes’ signal. His squadrons were poised above and below Toral. He’d been temporarily elevated to the position of commodore to command the two squadrons.
The Tridents’ bay doors were open, and two banishers for each warship hung outside, where they were tethered to the central hull. Six ships, with twelve banishers, would target twelve comm stations.
When the first probe detonated, Tatia signaled Descartes to hold. She waited and watched for the Toralian warships to thread their way through the belt. Even when the battleships reformed the wedge, she continued to wait. But the moment she heard the lead ship’s sister engage Artifice, she signaled Descartes to attack.
Descartes ordered the squadrons to accelerate. The Omnians planned to execute high-velocity attacks. The aim was to be present in Artifice’s densest comm envelope for a minimal amount of time.
From far out, the Tridents transited as close to the planet as the SADEs would safely allow. Then the captains ordered the closure of their aft clam-shell doors and switched to grav engines. The ships continued to accelerate, utilizing the energy stored in their central hulls and their beams’ power cells. The sisters assumed responsibility for the final aspects of acceleration, trajectory, and launch.
