by C H Gideon
The captain acknowledged her report with a nod. “That makes it easy. Set course for the obvious planet, Ensign Alcott.”
“Setting a course, sir,” Ria replied.
“This planet have a name?” Reynolds asked, glancing at Jiya.
“It is listed under the incredibly original Grindlevik 3,” she answered. “Nothing in the way of intel on it, seeing as how the system is barely a blip in the databases. It appears to be densely populated, though, which is a good sign regarding interaction.
“We’re also picking up a lot of electronic warbles in and around their atmosphere. Place looks to be fairly high-tech, but we’re not able to get a clear picture of their capabilities.”
“You mean they’re purposely blocking the scans?” Reynolds wondered.
“Either that or their tech is sufficiently advanced to prevent intrusion. Hard to tell if it’s intentional or just business as usual. We’re getting lots of feedback against the scanners. I suspect we’ll know more as we get closer.” Jiya wound her hands together as she studied the main screen.
One of Reynolds’ chrome eyebrows rose. “Are you picking up Kurtherian energy signatures in any of that noise?” he asked.
“Yes and no,” Jiya answered.
“I’m impressed by your clarity,” Tactical muttered. “Which is it?”
“There’s nothing definitive.” Jiya walked to the front of the bridge and examined the readings. “There are trace signatures that make me suspicious about their source.”
Reynolds joined her. “Suspicious how? Explain.” All part of the training process. The AI didn’t have a definitive answer either. Jiya pointed at General Maddox, who was working at his console, and together they trooped to his station.
Maddox shrugged, tapping on his console and showing the captain his findings. “I’m not exactly sure how to describe it,” he said. “It’s like their technology has been influenced by Kurtherian tech, but it’s not Kurtherian tech.”
“Tomato, orange,” Tactical called. “It is, or it isn’t.”
Maddox shrugged. “Then I’d say it’s not, but there’s no way to rule out the obvious influence that’s there. Either the Grindlovian society has had interactions with Kurtherians at some point in their evolution, or you have inexplicable coincidences in the similarity of technological advancement. Not sure what else to tell you.”
“Maybe there are Kurtherians in hiding on the planet, secretly guiding their evolution,” Reynolds said, rubbing his metallic hands together.
“Entirely possible,” Maddox answered. “We could always take a look.”
“Good thing we’re going there already, huh?” Jiya asked with a grin. “You can snoop to your metal heart’s content once we arrive, Reynolds. How about that?”
Reynolds returned to standing in front of the main viewscreen as the planet grew closer and he could pick out more detail. His eyes narrowed as he spied what was clearly not a natural formation around the planet.
A great ring encircled the planet, visible even from a distance, but it was difficult to see just what it was.
“Zoom in on the planet, Jiya.”
She did, and Reynolds could finally make out what he was seeing.
“There’s a man-made defensive perimeter around the planet,” he noted. “It looks like a space station has been built around the entire planet. If I were a betting AI, I’d say it’s heavy with weapons emplacements. We may not want to get too close without their approval.”
“It is in synchronized orbit with Grindlevik 3. That’s impressive,” XO said.
“Are those…ships around it?” Jiya asked as they drew closer.
“They are indeed,” Reynolds answered, knowing that the ring station served as a docking platform for the mass of destroyers that filled the space around the planet.
“Whoa!” Ria muttered. “There sure are a lot of them.”
The new kid was right.
Reynolds made a quick count and was surprised to find a fleet of over fifty ships holding a defensive posture above Grindlevik 3.
“We should probably reach out before we get too close,” Maddox reiterated.
“Already on it,” Comm replied. “Hailing all frequencies, but that perimeter squall is going to make it difficult to get a signal through.”
“It’ll have ears, guaranteed,” Reynolds replied. “It might not reach planet-side, but it’ll get through to the people it needs to.”
“How can you be sure?” Jiya asked.
“You mean besides the ten destroyers that just peeled out of formation from the fleet and are now headed our way?” he asked.
Jiya stiffened. “I’d say that’s a pretty good indication they heard us.”
“Just a matter of whether they understood us,” Comm mentioned. “If not, we might be in for a fight.”
“I wonder what they’re packing?” Tactical asked.
“Scanners show solid firepower,” Jiya answered, “but we’ve got them beat in pure muscle. They don’t have railguns or the absolute beast of the ESD system.”
“’Eat Shit and Die.’” Tactical chuckled, emphasizing each word. “I love that thing.”
Klaxons sounded on the bridge, bathing it in a flashing red glow and forcing the crew to hunker down under the unexpected sonic onslaught. The sound faded a moment later.
“Was that absolutely necessary?” Jiya asked, rubbing her ears.
“Just making sure everyone’s awake and on their toes,” Reynolds answered.
“A cup of coffee would have sufficed, or a simple word.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” Reynolds asked her.
Jiya grunted.
“We getting anything back from our greeting?” Reynolds asked.
“Nope,” Comm told him. “Their ships are moving into formation and powering shields. I’m still knocking at their door, but they aren’t letting me in.”
“I’m sure that happens more often than you’ll admit,” Tactical joked.
“Let’s follow their example and raise the gravitic shields in case someone on one of the ships gets trigger-happy,” Reynolds ordered.
“There’d have to actually be someone on the ships for that to happen,” Jiya replied.
Reynolds spun and glared at the first officer. “The ships are automated?”
Jiya nodded. “As is the defensive ring. We’re having a hard time getting specs on their tech, but it’s damn clear there are no lifeforms up here in space with us. Everyone with a heartbeat is on the planet.”
“Interesting,” Reynolds muttered, turning back to the viewscreen to examine the approaching ships more closely. “They bringing up weapons yet?”
“No, sir,” Jiya answered, “but they are moving into attack formation. Their ships are edging out to flank us on both sides, so either way we turn we’re going to get hit.”
“What do you think, Jiya? Are they going to attack or escort us in?” Reynolds asked with a wry smile on his metal face.
“I think they are going to escort us in. I think they would have already fired if they were hostile, as well as launched more ships. They have to know what we are and that their ten destroyers aren’t a match. We’ll be fine.”
“Unless they’re assholes,” Tactical countered.
“There is that.” Reynolds nodded. “Bring us to a halt, but stay ready just in case these guys want to tangle. I’m not in the mood to get holes shot through me.”
“I concur,” Maddox said. “Looks like they’re responding to the adjustment and have slowed their advance.” He looked at the big screen. “They’re being defensive—staying at range and keeping us in their sights, Captain.”
“They’re scanning us,” XO warned. “How much do you want me to give them?”
“Name, rank, and serial number, but not much else,” Reynolds answered. “I’m okay with them knowing who and what we are since that will probably help us here, but I don’t want them getting a clear picture of what we’re capable of. That needs to be a surprise in
case we need to do something besides wave at them.”
“Roger that,” XO replied, fortifying the firewall and applying extra security measures to the system to keep even the most insistent snoopers at bay.
“The probes have pulled back,” Jiya reported. “That was fast.”
“They hit a wall and knew they weren’t getting any farther,” XO told her. “That means they’re cautious. Good sign.”
“Incoming message,” Comm announced.
“On screen,” Reynolds told him.
A few seconds later, the screen wavered and changed focus. However, where Reynolds had expected to see a face of some kind, he was surprised to see nothing more than a placard with what appeared to be a Grindlevik 3 Space Defense logo, which was two arms crossed in an X, one clearly flesh and bone, the other quite obviously mechanoid in origin. A red circle enclosed both.
“Is there no other visual?” Reynolds asked.
“That’s all they’re sending,” Comm answered.
“Oh, great, it’s an infomercial,” Tactical complained. “Wonder what they’re selling?”
“Voice transmission coming in now,” Comm reported.
Almost immediately, a mechanical voice that sounded similar to Reynolds’ ship voice came over the speakers.
“Greetings, Superdreadnought Reynolds,” the voice announced. “I am Gorad, the Grindlevik 3 Orbital Space Defense Command. State your intentions or face the consequences of trespassing in Grindlovian space.”
“I feel so welcome,” Tactical mumbled, making sure only the crew could hear him. “Why do we always run into the gruff bastards?”
“Greetings, Gorad,” Reynolds answered, ignoring Tactical’s commentary—although he had to admit he might be on to something with his assessment. “We are on an exploratory mission to seek out allies and…others throughout the universe. Our intentions are peaceful.” He didn’t think it was wise to mention his quest for Kurtherian heads, given the trace signals coming from the planet.
“Unless you fuck with us,” Tactical said with a grin in his voice, again making sure Gorad couldn’t actually hear him. “Then we’ll get all up in your shit.”
Reynolds flipped a cyber switch and cut off Tactical’s communication interface.
“That is good news,” Gorad replied. “Still, you have to understand our position and why it warrants caution on our behalf.”
“Exactly whose behalf might that be?”
“That of my Grindlovian creators, of course, and those in their service, the Telluride.
“Are you…sentient?” Reynolds asked, surprised to realize the person they were talking to might be an AI similar to him and not just some automated security system with a cadre of rote responses prepared to counter any situation thrown its way.
“That’s an interesting question with an interesting answer,” Gorad answered, though Reynolds noted he had avoided the question. “I could ask the same of you.”
“I guess that depends on your definition of sentient, then,” Reynolds shot back. “I most certainly feel as though I am.”
“Then we are much the same, Superdreadnought Reynolds,” Gorad told him.
“You can simply call me ‘Reynolds.’”
“As you wish, Reynolds,” Gorad replied. “Now, as to the meat of your intentions…”
Jiya raised an eyebrow, waiting for Tactical to jump in at Gorad’s pause. Everyone was surprised when he didn’t. Little did they know, he was raging within his muted console.
“What is it specifically that you want with the people of Grindlevik 3?”
“Our primary mission is largely to create positive relationships with the various worlds we come across, and to trade technological advances for safe harbor and for supplies as needed.”
“Largely?”
Reynolds bit back a sigh, realizing he was going to have to be very careful how he worded his statements. As a fellow AI, Gorad would parse and analyze their substance, intended or otherwise, much deeper than most beings would. The captain had spent too much time among humans and others whose grasp of the subtleties of language was nowhere near as comprehensive as an artificial intelligence’s would be.
“We, of course, have our masters’ best interests in mind,” he answered, amused by how weird the word sounded, “but we have no desire to instigate a conflict where one can be avoided. There is much we can offer one another, should you deign to allow us to visit Grindlevik 3.”
The possibility of smashing Kurtherian skulls not least, Reynolds thought.
“What assurances do I have that you will not harm the people of Grindlevik 3, Reynolds?”
“You have my word as one AI to another,” he answered.
“Yeah, because that’s worth the scrap metal your tongue’s made out of,” Tactical called, having wrestled himself free of the captain’s block. Reynolds was glad once more that Tactical had at least had the good sense to mute the system.
“I see you have a flesh-and-blood crew behind you,” Gorad continued pondering whether to let the SD Reynolds pass without a fight. “Do you find their presence better conditions you to be kind to those who are less than you?”
Jiya grunted. “We’re right here, you know.” She had little patience for any being that considered itself superior, having been conditioned to despise such attitudes by her father.
Reynolds waved a hand behind his back to rein her in.
“I have found that creating relationships with all manner of beings has been both rewarding and challenging,” Reynolds answered honestly. “Still, the people of my crew prove daily that they are honorable and worthy of my respect. I would not trade them for any automated system.”
Jiya pumped a fist and whispered, “Take that, Robo-dick!”
Comm wisely muted the system so her comments wouldn’t make it to Gorad. Reynolds held up a metal hand. “Please give me a moment.” He blanked the main screen and turned to the crew. “Everyone needs to shut their mouths! Although we can defeat ten destroyers, we cannot survive if their forty brothers join them. This is a delicate negotiation, and you people and my alternate selves are playing goat-fuck games. Everyone shut the fuck up and let me concentrate or get your dumbasses off my bridge!”
Ria looked shocked, her lips white from clenching her jaw. Jiya hung her head and nodded. Her transition from hovercab driver to first officer on the Reynolds’ space exploration mission had not been easy. She was a well-educated brawler, ready to fight at the drop of a slight, intentional or otherwise.
Maddox remained stoic. He brought up the tactical display on his terminal and studied it, looking for a weakness in the planet’s position should a fight begin. He calculated ranges and closing times for the remaining forty destroyers. They could escape if need be, but if there was a chance that there were Kurtherians on the planet, they needed access. Leaving an enemy to one’s rear was bad strategy.
Reynolds stormed over to Tactical’s position and punched his metal hand into the speaker, crushed it, and ripped it free. He threw it to the deck before restoring the main screen.
“And you believe what you have to offer will better the lives of those on Grindlevik 3?” Gorad immediately questioned.
“I believe it’s worth the effort of trying,” Reynolds answered without pause. “All lessons are worth learning, and no matter who you are, you can learn something from every other being you encounter. From the lowest to the highest, we are better as compatriots rather than competitors.”
There was a pause. Gorad didn’t deliver a verbal answer, letting his actions speak for him. The array of destroyers began to ease back, using their positional thrusters to clear a path through their ranks.
“I find myself obliged to trust you, Reynolds,” Gorad told him. “To a degree, of course.”
“Of course,” Reynolds replied, understanding where the other AI was coming from. He sure as hell didn’t trust Gorad yet—and he wasn’t sure he ever would—but being allowed past the blockade was a good start.
He c
ould build on that, or nuke Gorad, turning him into space debris.
Whatever needed doing.
Especially if Kurtherians were hiding somewhere on the planet.
“Please follow the course we have sent you and do not deviate,” Gorad explained. “It would ease my mind to know that you respect our sovereign space and will abide by our rules while you are here.”
“We are your guests, and we will act accordingly,” Reynolds assured. Jiya nodded from behind the captain, where she stood with her hands behind her back.
“Welcome to Grindlevik 3, Superdreadnought Reynolds and crew,” Gorad told them. “I will guide you in, and a shuttle will arrive shortly to ferry you and your select crew to the planet. A representative of the Grindlovian people will meet you there.”
“Thank you for your generosity,” Reynolds answered, offering the other AI a shallow nod.
The screen went blank, then returned to the outside view showing the still-lurking destroyers. Reynolds heard Jiya and Maddox shuffle uncomfortably behind him. He turned, wondering which of the two would confront him first.
I'll bet on Jiya, he thought.
“You believe him?” she asked.
Reynolds chuckled. “Belief isn’t necessary. We’re here on a mission. If the Grindlovians and Telluride are good people, there won’t be a problem. If they’re not—”
“Eat shit and die, motherfuckers!” Tactical shouted from Helm’s position, rocking Ria back in her seat. “It’s clobberin’ time!”
Reynolds gestured to the speaker on the deck by Tactical’s position and shrugged. “There you go.”
Asya came onto the bridge then, side-eyeing Tactical’s damaged position. “What did I miss?”
“An alien AI and Reynolds waving mechanical dicks and deciding to get a closer look so they can measure to see whose is bigger,” Jiya answered. “That’s pretty much it.”
Asya nodded. “Good to know.” She assumed her station and stared up at the viewscreen. “That’s one hell of a greeting party.”
“We inspire confidence wherever we go,” Maddox told her. She snorted a half-laugh.
“I get that. It’s your thing. A gift or a curse? I’m not sure, but let’s see what we can make of this…opportunity.”
