by S. H. Jucha
“But why are they here?” another captain asked plaintively.
“I would have thought that was obvious,” Gregich replied. “They’ve been waiting for us. We’ve made two disastrous landings on home worlds, and those contacts have been reported. We’ve been searching along a line of stars, and the Omnians deduced where we might show next.”
“But why are the Omnians in this area of space?” the plaintive one asked.
“That’s a different question,” Gregich replied, “and I don’t think it matters right now. The message that we’re receiving is that we’re not wanted here, and the Omnians have the power to force us to return to federacy space.”
“Impossible,” a third captain declared. “We haven’t the resources to make it home. That’s why we were furnished with a minimum of supplies. Let me remind you, Gregich, that we were ordered to find a new home world or don’t bother returning.”
“There’s the possibility of returning to the first planet we encountered,” another captain volunteered.
That suggestion was met with loud protestations. Most of the captains had images of the monster that was reported cycles before the shuttles and their crews were lost.
“I assume you’ve all inventoried the resources that you have left?” Gregich said. He heard similar summaries from each captain. The battleships would require food and water within another fifty-six cycles. If not resupplied by then, the expedition would reach a crisis point.
“Suggestions?” Gregich asked.
“Ask the inhabitants for supplies,” the original speaker suggested.
“How do you intend we accomplish that?” Gregich asked. “What do you think the Omnians will do when we sail for this system’s home planet?”
“Well, you’re the senior captain,” the speaker retorted accusingly. “What do you intend to do?”
Despite how the remark was couched, Gregich had been waiting for one of the captains to admit to his leadership position.
“I intend to talk to the Omnians,” Gregich said.
“How?” several captains chimed.
“The Omnians have the superior technology,” Gregich pointed out. “I’ll let them figure it out. We’re desperate for supplies, and the Omnians are our best hope. Of course, we have a second choice. We can leave this system without engaging the Omnians. Then we can search for a habitable and undeveloped planet, while we die of thirst and starvation.”
“We’d be killed by our crews before we starved to death,” the plaintive captain pointed out.
“That is more likely,” Gregich replied.
“How are you going to do this, Gregich?” a captain asked.
“I’m ordering all of you to hold out here beyond the belt,” Gregich said sternly. “I’ll take my ship inward. I expect to be surrounded by Omnian forces. At that point, I’ll launch a shuttle and wait for the Omnians to make contact.”
“What if the Omnians fail to respond to your offer to meet?” the first speaker asked.
“Then we’ll be no worse off than we are now,” Gregich said. “Captains, our leaders have sent us out here on a fool’s errand. We’ve been ordered to find a new colony by individuals who have no experience in this kind of undertaking. Our expedition has turned into a disaster. I’m senior captain, and I’m now responsible for the well-being of every member of this fleet. I declare that we’ve no more allegiance to our idiot leaders. We must look out for ourselves.”
Gregich waited for questions or objections. When he heard none, he said, “Hold your positions. I’m going to get us help.”
33: Parley
As Gregich’s battleship made its way in system, the telemetry officer reported the presence of a second Omnian fleet. He specified that it wasn’t massed but was spread in a wide arc on their side of the system.
For Gregich, the information underscored that he’d embarked on the right path. His fleet might have devastated one Omnian fleet at the size previously identified. However, it would have been at the cost of many of their battleships. Twice the number of enemy ships guaranteed his fleet’s annihilation.
Telemetry scans were sharp now, and the pilot asked for a vector, when the battleship cleared the belt.
“Toward the Omnians’ great ship,” Gregich ordered. “I’m to be woken if the tri-hulls move against us.” Then Gregich retired for the evening.
* * * * *
“It’s still headed our way,” Tatia said to Alex, when he gained the bridge. Her comment was a way of dealing with her frustration. She knew the SADEs kept Alex well informed.
“I think we should close Deirdre’s squadrons toward the battleship,” Reiko recommended.
Alex relaxed in a command chair, and a crew member handed him a large mug of thé, which he gratefully accepted.
In the holo-vid, Cordelia displayed a wireframe model of the ships in a small section of the outer rim, and Alex studied it.
“How did the fleet approach the previous two home worlds?” Alex inquired.
“According to sources, the battleships sailed in the traditional wedge,” Julien replied.
“Visual confirmation?” Alex pursued.
“It was received from both races,” Julien confirmed.
Alex sipped on his thé, regarded the oddity of a battleship leaving formation, and pondered the reasons for the aliens’ action.
“Cordelia, magnify, please,” Alex requested.
The holo-vid presented a battleship that occupied most of the display’s width.
“It’s the lead ship,” Alex murmured. “Typically, a federacy lead ship will have a political leader, a fleet commander, and a senior captain.”
Tatia, Reiko, and Franz temporarily set aside their concerns to focus on Alex’s direction of thought.
“Two landings, resulting in the loss of six shuttles and six crews,” Alex continued, taking a deep, satisfying swallow from his mug. “I wonder if they lost anyone important.”
“It probably wouldn’t have been the political appointee,” Renée reasoned. She was occupying another command chair. “Judging from the individuals we’ve met, those don’t tend to be the adventuresome type.”
“Agreed,” Alex said, smiling softly at his partner. “Still, something accounts for the lead ship breaking formation.”
“It could be subterfuge,” Tatia offered. “Consider the idea that the fleet principals, ship’s officers, and most of the crew aren’t aboard, and this battleship will open fire on us when its missiles are within active range.”
“A reasonable scenario, Admiral,” Cordelia remarked, “except the scouts detected no shuttle movement between the battleships prior to it leaving formation.”
“That doesn’t mean that subterfuge isn’t the intent of those aboard this ship,” Tatia argued. “It could be a sacrifice of one battleship to eliminate the Freedom and our leadership.”
The idea made sense to Alex, but it didn’t fit with his intuition. More important, if Tatia’s scenario was true, then he wanted to know why the alien with the long slender muzzle and pointed teeth kept gesturing animatedly to him in his dream.
Z headed the computational efforts. The SADEs chose a starting point for the aliens’ home world, which ranged from a third to halfway into federacy space, as determined from the wall.
Calculations were made to determine the ratio of alliance worlds to the number of stars telemetry had recorded in this area of space. Then the SADEs estimated the transit time of the battleships to the three alliance worlds, allowing for stops at the non-alliance systems that the federacy fleet probably inspected.
“According to the SADEs, the fleet’s been underway for about an annual and a half from its home world,” Alex announced.
“They didn’t have an opportunity to gather
anything of significance from Crocia or Usaana,” Renée added.
“No freighters in the fleet,” Deirdre pointed out. Like Darius, she was linked through Cordelia and was participating via the bridge audio system.
“That means every battleship has had to carry its own supplies,” Franz reasoned, “I wonder how much they brought?”
“Along that line of thought,” Tatia interjected. “How long would it take them if they sailed for their home world now?”
“We calculate approximately one annual,” Cordelia replied.
“Then without resupply, this fleet would be forced to make a round trip of nearly two-and-a-half annuals,” Tatia concluded. “That sounds too long without freighters.”
“Then we’re presented with two opposing theories for this battleship’s approach,” Renée offered. “Either the aliens plan to destroy our ship, or they’re desperate and want to talk.”
“There’s consensus among the SADEs that Ser’s latter point is the correct one,” Julien said, nodding to Renée for the conciseness of her summary.
Alex sent his partner a kiss, and Renée created a quick vid in reply. She’d animated taking a stick and smacking a huge dripping red kiss toward Alex. He was bowled over by the impact, and he sat on the ground, grinning, and covered in wet red.
Alex’s booming laugh shook the bridge, and Renée grinned at him.
“Sers, the battleship has flipped end-over-end and is decelerating,” Cordelia announced.
“With its aft end toward us, the ship’s at its most vulnerable,” Reiko added.
“Shuttle launch,” Cordelia said.
“Franz, put two fighters out to escort that shuttle,” Tatia ordered. “If it comes at this ship too fast, destroy it.” She glanced toward Alex to see if he objected. He didn’t, but he did amend her order. “Franz, have the pilots set the pace for its closure.”
“Alex, we’ll need a secure place to meet,” Tatia said.
“We’ll use the bay where they’ll land,” Alex directed. “Julien, have the SADEs clear a bay and put some furniture near the airlock.”
“Julien, we’ll need a display of food and water,” Renée added.
Cordelia manipulated the holo-vid display, and the Omnians watched two travelers exit a bay and speed toward the approaching shuttle. As the fighters came abreast of the federacy ship, they flipped over and kept pace with the shuttle as it approached the Freedom.
There was no need to manage the velocity of the shuttle’s approach. It decelerated long before it neared the city-ship.
“Someone’s being careful,” Tatia remarked. She wished she had more time to question Alex about the images he’d seen in his dreams or whenever, but historically, he was reticent to share, except with Renée. It took days, if not months, to tease the details out of him.
The federacy shuttle came to a fixed position relative to the city-ship at a distance of ten thousand kilometers.
Franz directed one of the traveler pilots to proceed to the prepared bay and point the way.
When the fighter, like a giant arrow, indicated a bay with its doors open, the shuttle slowly closed the distance and eased into the bay on its attitude jets.
After a short delay, Julien said, “Alex, the bay is pressurized, and preparations for our visitors are complete.”
Z and Miranda were waiting in the corridor outside the bay for Alex’s small group.
“The shuttle passengers haven’t exited their ship, Alex,” Miranda reported. “There’s been ample time, but we surmise they’re waiting for an invitation.”
“Maybe they’re shy,” Franz proposed tongue-in-cheek.
“The SADEs warn that the shuttle must contain one or more of three key individuals,” Julien said. “They must be the fleet leader, the commander, and/or the senior captain. If they’re not any of these three, then we should be suspicious of the fleet’s intent.”
“Well, let’s not be poor hosts,” Alex said, indicating the airlock hatch.
Miranda and Z entered first, and the rest followed.
There were sufficient chairs behind the tables to accommodate Julien and the humans. Miranda and Z stationed themselves at the tables’ flanks.
The Omnians waited for a quarter of an hour before the shuttle hatch opened and a ramp slid out.
One individual walked down the gangway and into Alex’s reality. He wore the face that had haunted Alex’s dreams.
The Omnians waited for others to exit the shuttle, but the single individual stood at the bottom of the ramp and waited. The individual was male, and he wore a simple uniform with impressive insignias. The uniform’s marking gave the Omnians some comfort that they were dealing with a senior member of the fleet.
Alex realized that their preparations appeared uninviting to their visitor.
Gregich stared at the enormous Omnian who faced him. Based on the profiles of the individuals watching from behind the tables, he deduced that he faced a male. The Omnian was twice his height and four or five times his mass. Yet, even the male was slight compared to the female that stood slightly behind and to the right of him. Her eyes seemed to hunt his every gesture, even though he thought he barely moved.
The original idea of contacting the Omnians had seemed so simple to Gregich, but he stood in the enemy’s bay without a clue as to how to proceed.
Alex stepped backward and indicated the side table with its plates of food and a water pitcher.
Gregich realized that the Omnian’s actions gave him an opening. He slowly crossed the bay toward the table. The gargantuan female watched him intensely. She didn’t show emotion, and she never moved from the side of the Omnian male.
When the federacy individual reached the food table, Alex held out an eating utensil to him, but small furred hands waved it away.
Gregich did his best to pantomime his fleet’s quandary, but it was proving too difficult.
Julien activated the holo-vid before he came from behind the table. He didn’t want the visitor to think that he carried an offensive weapon.
Gregich regarded the tool in the new individual’s hand. It displayed the bay that they were inside. He pointed to his shuttle, waved a hand overhead, and then steepled his hands. He repeated the action twice, while watching the slender Omnian.
Julien perceived the visitor’s request. He selected an image from the Vivian’s Mirror telemetry and sent it to the holo-vid.
Gregich pointed to the image of his fleet in wedge formation and clapped his hands once. Then he indicated the food and water on the table, cupped his hands, as if he carried them, and walked to the image of his battleships.
At Julien’s request, Cordelia created a short vid and sent it to him.
Gregich observed the display change, and for a moment, he thought the Omnians hadn’t understood his message. He watched the local home world rotate. It spun three hundred sixty degrees in a short period of time.
A soft clap from the huge Omnian caught his attention. The male pointed to the food and then the spinning world.
The request clicked for Gregich, and he held out his full eight digits and flashed them seven times.
&n
bsp;
Alex caught the attention of the visitor. He held up a hand and nodded his understanding of the male’s gesture. Touching a hand to his chest, he said his name.
“Gregich,” the senior captain replied, a dark brown furred hand touching his chest.
Alex swirled a hand in the air, indicating those seated at the table, and said, “Omnians.”
“Packeoes,” Gregich replied. He was crestfallen. What had seemed like a good beginning had become an exchange at the level of nestlings.
A SADE moved quickly through the airlock carrying a chair for Gregich, and Z brought another from behind the table for Julien, the SADEs having anticipated Alex’s needs.
Alex indicated the chair for Gregich, who sat down and leapt up when the nanites moved. Realizing he wasn’t hurt, he gingerly sat again, dropping his bushy tail through the opening in the seat’s rear. As the nanites moved to accommodate his body, he ignored who he faced and sucked his teeth in comfort.
When the slender Omnian sat across from Gregich, the senior captain focused on him. The holo-vid flashed an image of him, then two, and then three. He was confused until the sequence repeated and realized the Omnians intended to learn the Packeo language. It seemed a foolish gesture, but Gregich wanted to humor the Omnians. He thought that in a few hours, they’d realize the futility of their exercise. So, Gregich counted from one to three.
Immediately, the display changed and Gregich responded. As fast as he could speak, the imagery changed. He counted for the Omnians and identified ships, planets, stars, and moons. He was shown parts of the bay — a table, a chair, a plate, a utensil, a pitcher, food, and water.
Within an hour, Gregich’s throat was dry and the enormous female brought him water. Later, he was offered a plate of food, which he happily accepted.
