by S. H. Jucha
Julien sent in reply.
When Cordelia and Julien met, he’d been a visitor to the system. She was as immobile as he was, ensconced in their boxes. But, while he was safely aboard the Rêveur, she inhabited the bridge of a half-constructed city-ship, not knowing if it would sail before the dangerous Nua’ll sphere arrived. To demonstrate her point, she mentioned the three battleships fleets, which had recently left federacy space. Only two of the fleets had been located.
Julien regarded his partner. His trademark fedora appeared on his head, imaged there by his synth skin’s holo-vid capability. He smiled and said,
* * * * *
Renée, Tatia, Julien, Cordelia, Z, and Miranda were quiet. They sat or stood in the salon of the Freedom’s owner suite.
Alex had announced his intention to sail to Méridien and confront Shannon Brixton for the information about SADE creation. He’d also proposed how he intended to travel. That’s when the arguments ensued. Then Cordelia had interrupted the discussion and suggested a moment to reflect.
“Think about the purpose of the visit,” Alex urged, after the silence had extended for a few moments.
“Intimidation would work better,” Tatia insisted. “Our fleet orbiting Méridien should convince Leaders to support our request. They could coerce House Brixton into divulging its processes.”
It’s not that, as a New Terran, Tatia had no love for the Confederation Council. It was that, as fleet admiral, she’d commanded many battles that saw the loss of numerous humans and SADEs. She felt the SADEs were owed, and if this was how they wanted recompense, then she wanted that for them.
“While I would tend to agree with Tatia about sending the fleet with Alex,” Renée said, “in this case, it’s not appropriate. The Council won’t react well to the presence of our ships after we announce the reason for our visit.”
“Examined from the Council’s viewpoint,” Julien interjected, “Leaders would be reluctant to support us in leveraging information from House Brixton. In the future, the same tactic could be used against any one of their Houses.”
“Does anyone believe that Leader Shannon Brixton will willingly share the one critical asset that supports her House business?” Miranda asked.
“I don’t expect her to cooperate simply because we ask,” Alex replied.
“Julien, have you heard from Winston?” Tatia asked.
“We’ve exchanged information regularly since our return to Omnia,” Julien replied. “I’ve never broached the subject of House Brixton. It would have been premature.”
“Would he help us pressure Shannon Brixton?” Tatia asked.
“There is every reason to believe Confederation SADEs want this information as much as Omnian and Haraken SADEs do,” Julien noted.
“Which doesn’t answer the admiral’s question,” Miranda pointed out. “There’s sufficient proof that Confederation SADEs might side with the Council against our request.”
Miranda quickly sublimated the algorithmic core that initiated her remarks. It had originated from a portion of Allora’s kernel that Miranda had never deleted. The young SADE, who had given her kernel to Miranda, retained hostility for her fellow SADEs who didn’t come to her rescue. They had the power to bring Confederation processes to a halt, but they remained mute in the face of the Council’s demand that Allora be isolated and studied for her act of resistance.
“It looks like I’m in the minority,” Tatia said reluctantly. “Then I guess it’s accepted that you’re taking a single ship.” She appeared unhappy, and she desultorily eyed Renée for failing to support her.
“Just one,” Alex replied. He was surprised that Tatia had relented so quickly. Then, unexpectedly, he faced a wall of smiles.
“One ship,” Tatia agreed, suddenly nodding amiably. “The Freedom,” she added, with a wolfish smile.
“It beats being cramped aboard a Trident,” Renée remarked. She kissed Alex on the cheek and sent,
“The Freedom is your usual accommodation, Alex,” Julien pointed out. “Its appearance wouldn’t elicit the Council’s concern, and it does befit your status.”
Alex knew he’d been maneuvered. It happened more and more lately, and his close companions were getting quite good at it. His lopsided smile accompanied a resigned shake of his head. “Cordelia, do me a favor. Please, don’t roll out the rail-mounted beam guns while we’re in Méridien’s orbit.”
2: I’m in Charge?
Hector received word from Julien, as did every other SADE, of Alex’s intention to meet with Leader Brixton. That was expected. What caught Hector unaware was the call from Tatia.
Tatia smiled, as the silence dragged on. It was a rare thing to confound a SADE. She could imagine the enormous number of calculations taking place in Hector’s kernel.
Tatia ended the call and mused about her decision. She’d debated whether to appoint one of the fleet’s vice admirals over Hector. In the end, she thought that would be an affront to the SADEs. She’d chosen Hector and then hoped the Freedom would return to Omnia before anything untoward happened in the galaxy.
From across the fleet, aboard stations, and on the planet, SADEs sent their congratulations to Hector. Human admirals to captains added their readiness to support him.
Nata picked up the announcement, at the same time as did those at the table. She shared a thought with Neffess. The two lieutenants were enjoying a celebratory meal with Nyslara and Pussiro.
“No,” Nyslara said perfunctorily, popping a piece of food into her mouth.
Nata checked her implant comms app. She was certain she’d linked only with Neffess.
“No, what?” Nata asked innocently.
“Pups,” Pussiro chortled.
Nata projected an air of offense at the demeaning term, but the dark eyes of the veteran wasat gazed down a scarred grayed muzzle at her. It was enough to force Nata to drop her gaze.
“Your intention is not how we treat those who’ve befriended us,” Pussiro remonstrated.
“How can we ask Alex’s permission to visit Sawa if he leaves from Méridien on a faraway emergency?” Neffess proffered. She was as anxious as Nata to employ her newly acquired piloting skills on a mission, such as a visit to Sawa.
“Alex will return to Omnia before he leaves for anywhere else,” Pussiro replied.
“That’s not necessary,” Nata pointed out. “The Freedom can join with the fleet on its way to the destination.”
Nyslara pushed her unfinished plate away. It was an indication of her irritation. “You think about your fighters and your flying,” she said, with a queen’s demeanor. “Annuals from now, you’ll either be dead, lost in a fight, or you’ll still be lieutenants. Do you know how I know this?”
Neffess and Nata shared blank looks before they regarded Nyslara.
“It’s that you’re too busy with self-promotion instead of being concerned for those around you,” Nyslara stated sharply. Then she abruptly left the table. As she exited the room, her long slender tail whip-cracked the air.
Nata’s jaw tightened at the rebuke, but Neffess stared bewilderedly at her patriarch.
“As a race, we were slowly dying on this planet, socially and technologically devolving,” Pussiro explained. “Then Alex came. He asked only two things of us ... to end the attacks against the Swei Swee and accept his friendship. For that, a queen and her wasat tried to kill him.”
“I’d heard that,” Neffess said.
Nata’s open mouth said that she hadn’t.
“You spoke of the ease with which Alex’s city-ship could meet with the fleet as his warships sailed toward a destination,” Pussiro continued. “You understand about sailing the stars but not about those who do. Alex always returns to Omnia before he sails. He does this to say goodbye to Wave Skimmer and Nyslara, in case he never returns.”
When Pussiro finished, he left the table and an unfinished meal behind. In the days of the Dischnya nests, when the soma lived underground, there was no greater remonstration than leaving scarce food on the plate. It demonstrated disdain for the speaker or speakers. It was usually reserved for those who had challenged the elders’ ways.
Nata started to speak, but Neffess uttered a soft growl.
“I’ve never received this reprimand from my matriarch or patriarch,” Neffess said, indicating the partially emptied plates across from them.
“We’re the new generation,” Nata stated hotly. “We’ll —”
Neffess’s deeper growl cut Nata off.
“No more pressure,” Neffess stated flatly. “We’ve gone too far. Our time will come when the queens request Alex’s assistance or his delegates.”
Nata glared at her friend. It was the nature of their relationship that they frequently argued and strenuously so. Soon afterward, the harsh words were forgotten, and they were laughing and chatting again.
Neffess reached across the table for Pussiro’s plate and scraped the remains onto Nata’s plate. Then she picked up Nyslara’s plate, adding the food to hers. To Nata’s quizzical look, she said, “We’re offering apology for our immaturity. Eat up ... every piece of it. Then we’ll leave the plates where they can be observed.”
* * * * *
Ellie watched the Freedom exit the Omnian system by dropping below the ecliptic. She had mixed emotions. It wasn’t that she wanted to be aboard the city-ship. That wasn’t what pained her. It was her new reality. She was no longer part of the fleet that supported the Freedom. Even if those Tridents had sailed with Alex, she would have remained behind. She commanded the fleet of warships that defended the second city-ship, the Our People.
With the transfer to Hector’s fleet, Ellie missed the close connection time she enjoyed with her fellow Librans, when the fleets separated. However, one deep pleasure had been reserved for her. Her partner, Étienne de Long, had been assigned to the fleet too with Commodore Descartes’ squadrons.
Sighing deeply, Ellie severed the link to the Our People’s controller and made her way to the captain’s quarters. She joined Hector, Lydia, Rear Admirals Alphons Jagielski and Adrianna Plummer, Commodore Descartes, and Senior Captains Étienne and Alain de Long.
“You requested the meeting, Admiral,” Hector said, as Ellie sat at the table.
“After our engagements in the Toralian and Chistorlan systems, it’s obvious that, in the near future, we’ll face more belligerent federacy battleship fleets,” Ellie begin. “I think it’s time to consider other offensive options.”
“Do we abide by Alex’s preference to incur minimal damage, Admiral?” Descartes asked.
“I think that goes without saying,” Ellie replied. “Besides, any strategy that seeks to best aggressive federacy fleets through annihilation is prohibitive. We can’t afford to construct, launch, and crew the massive number of ships that are the equal of those battleships. The task I’m asking this table to undertake is the design of workable offensive concepts. Alex and his senior staff can choose among them and decide when and how to employ the solutions we create.”
“Under those conditions,” Étienne said, “it would be strategically effective to deliver the strike against the lead battleship.”
“Agreed,” Alain quickly said. “The federacy’s fleet commander and any appointed leader will be aboard the greatest battleship, which will lead the wedge.”
“That’s also the battleship that’s in the center of the wedge, which is a formation that allows the fleet to launch the greatest spread of missiles toward an opponent. That makes it the toughest target,” Alphons noted.
“If the admiral’s goal is to provide an offensive tactic, while minimizing the risk to our forces,” Lydia said, “then we must rely on attributes of high velocity, evasion intelligence, and numbers.”
“Utilizing those factors,” Descartes added, “would require a significantly sized delivery vehicle. That rules out a freighter to deliver them to the enemy fleet. Either it would be too slow to evacuate the field after launch, or it would be forced to launch too far out.”
“What if we don’t attempt to strike a battleship?” Adrianna volunteered. “As Alphons said, we know federacy fleets can throw thousands of missiles at whatever we launch at them, not to mention their close gun support. Let’s accept that and plan on delivering something that neutralizes their offensive capability.”
“How are battleships most vulnerable?” Alphons asked rhetorically. “Like every other ship, it’s through their electrical systems.”
“Are you proposing the use of nuclear-tipped weaponry?” Hector asked.
“No,” Alphons replied emphatically, raising his hands in protest. “But what about an NNEMP pulse?”
“The delivery of a close proximity nonnuclear electromagnetic pulse could target the fleet’s lead battleship, with a minimal, if not negligible effect, on the other ships,” Lydia theorized. “Much would depend on being able to get our weapon near enough.”
“What type of distance are we talking about?” Ellie asked.
Lydia blinked. Her comms had been inundated by the comments of other SADEs, who were closely monitoring the conversation. “The simple answer, Admiral, is that it depends,” Lydia replied. “The larger the carrier vessel; the larger the EMP generator. The larger the generator; the greater the pulse. The greater the pulse; the farther from the lead battleship it can be triggered.”
“Then these would be critical design constraints,” Ellie said. “As the commodore points out, a freighter can’t deliver this type of weapon. It would have to be carried and launched by our Tridents. A result of t
his strategy might be that we reduce the number of fighters those Tridents carry. I think a fighter admiral might have a problem with that.”
There were some polite chuckles at the veiled mention of Franz.
“I think the admiral would be happy if his pilots didn’t have to engage a battleship fleet, if it could be avoided,” Alphons said quietly, which engendered a lot of head nodding.
“If the lead battleship could be rendered inert, we would have delivered our message with minimal damage,” Adrianna said. “Certainly, some crew, if they were touching metal, would be electrocuted by the high voltage conducted through the electrical systems. However, the majority could be safely evacuated.”
“Then, after the fleet abandoned their lead battleship, we’d be faced with disposing of an enormous vessel full of explosive armament, whose electrical control and power systems were fried,” Ellie remarked.
“Difficult, but not impossible,” Descartes offered. “Presumably, the battleship possessed velocity at the time we eliminated its electrical circuits. We might be fortunate that its trajectory will allow it to safely exit the system. Considering the volume of space, it might sail for a lengthy period of time before being impacted by asteroids and comets. Then again, it might wander into a star’s gravitational field.”
“How far should we take the development process?” Alain asked. “Alex and Tatia are depending on this fleet to take a robust role in peacekeeping. The sooner we develop such a weapon, the sooner we save a good many Omnian lives.”
“I agree with your assessment, Captain,” Hector replied. “I’ll authorize prototype construction of any design this committee approves.”
When Hector’s audience regarded him with knitted brows, he added, “Alex granted me permission to access Omnia Ships’ credit reserves for any project I consider worthwhile.”
The doubting faces were immediately transformed into smiles.
“It would be expedient to use banisher shells,” Étienne said. “Many of them are already built, and we’ve the manufacturing bay on the Sardi-Tallen Orbital Platform, which can be augmented to construct a new version.”
