by Blair Wylie
“We know there are seven approaching spaceships. That is significant in itself. In addition, there is a central ship, which our friends told us will be the command or ‘Flagship’. The other six ships appear to be precisely arranged around the Flagship in a hexagonal pattern. That also agrees with what we were told to expect.
“So, all of this means the approaching spacecraft are almost certainly piloted by Masters of the Warrior caste.
“Warriors are not explorers, or ambassadors. They are probably under orders to totally annihilate us as a species. Saving some physical assets in our Sol-system for future use by other Masters may be a secondary consideration to them. Then again, it may not.”
“And what do we know about this, ah, ‘Warrior caste’ of Masters?” asked the prime minister with a waver in her voice. She was still reeling a bit from this startling development. But she was also a tough, pragmatic leader. And she actually had great respect for Knudsen, Weismann and Maldonado. Asking their advice was not in the least bit demeaning.
“We know nothing directly about them, Prime Minister,” replied Maldonado immediately. “We have never encountered this variant of the Master species before. Our second-hand information suggests they are a bit like warrior ants, using an Earth insect analogy. They apparently always fight to the death. They never surrender. But they are also not suicidal. They fight for glory, and they want to experience the societal glorification that comes after victory in battle.”
“That’s not much to go on, now is it?” asked the prime minister with a touch of sarcasm.
“No, but it is probably enough, Prime Minister, to give us a strategic edge, and formulate effective tactical attack plans,” replied Knudsen firmly. “The friendly alien race, or our hermit-like allies, also provided us with the nucleus of an overarching plan. And we want your permission now to flesh-out that plan, in appropriate detail, and then put it all immediately into effect. Please let me elaborate a bit for you.
“Firstly, we want to make our Addy Moon Base our command centre. General Ibrahimović will be the overall frontline commander, reporting directly to me.
“Secondly, we want to immediately manoeuvre the four robot scout spacecraft that I mentioned earlier into tactical holding positions near planetesimals much closer to the Sol-system celestial South Pole. They will form our spearhead attacking force, together with the robot scout spacecraft that made the initial discovery of the approaching Armada. And that spacecraft will become the control centre for our very remote, totally independent, artificial intelligence network.
“Are you okay with this so far, Prime Minister?”
“Yes, of course,” replied the prime minister bluntly. “Consider those actions approved, and right now.”
“Thank you very much, Prime Minister, we will immediately comply with your order, of course,” replied Knudsen formally. Then he seemed to relax a bit. He took a deep breath, and said, “Thirdly, we will mobilize a naval battlecruiser and our first Space Ranger commando unit from Addy Moon Base. Now, here is our overall battle plan…”
19
The Warriors did not consider themselves a sub-Master, servile caste. Rather, they believed they embodied the true nature of their successful, galactic, domineering, highly-intelligent and tri-variant species.
Outwardly, the Warriors resembled large, male, beardless, human beings. Anatomically and behaviourally, however, they were considerably different.
The Warriors possessed vastly different internal organs and genetic material than human beings. They were aggressive, fanatically brave, athletic, muscular and physically attractive to each other and the other two variants of their species. They were also cloned eunuchs, but they perceived that reality as a simplifying and empowering advantage.
And the Warriors were always tasked with the really difficult, physically demanding jobs that the hermaphroditic Worker and Explorer caste, and the heterosexual Royal caste, could not handle, or were afraid to handle. They were simply infantry ‘grunts’, and they were damned proud of that fact.
But the Warriors were in fact sincerely revered by the other two castes. Their rewards for victory in martial or species-elimination operations were glory, and the opportunity to fight again.
The Warriors also believed that doing one’s very best in the line of duty would bring immortality in the afterlife. Like the pagan Viking raiders in Earth’s history, they believed that dying in battle was a noble act. But they also believed it was always better to survive, to enjoy the fruits of plunder with your mates, and celebrate a victory well-won.
In other words, to a Warrior, it was better to let some other poor bastard die for its race than to die yourself.
The language that the Warriors used was the same as that employed by the other two Master castes. But their voices were pitched much lower, and their words would seem harsher sounding to a human ear, rather like choppy, guttural grunts.
Warriors had to earn promotions in rank through proven success in operations, especially combat operations. Officers were therefore especially well-seasoned blokes. And a Commander, well, a Commander was a truly formidable fellow.
In practice, however, they found that most of their battles were against unintelligent but often fierce lifeforms that the Master Ruling caste had officially deemed to be a threat, or unsuitable for genetic modification. But occasionally, they encountered truly worthy, semi-intelligent and cunning opponents, which always made for excellent sport, and possibly a feature role in a new legend.
There were seven ships in the Warrior Armada, arranged in a precise hexagonal pattern around the central Flagship. The ships were separated by the Masters’ displacement unit equivalent of about ninety-one kilometres.
The seven vessels were identical in every way. The fuselage was a long, slender cylinder, and it contained the plasma ion-drive engines, fuel tanks, storage bins and most of the vessel’s life support and weaponry systems. The Warriors lived and worked in a separate toroidal section that was connected to the bow of the fuselage by cylindrical spokes. These spokes contained service conduits, service elevators and ladders for emergency or back-up access.
The original total crew compliment on each vessel was one hundred and one Masters, all of the Warrior caste. Each spaceship rotated around the long-axis of the fuselage section to provide the Warriors in the toroidal section with a comfortable artificial gravity generated by centripetal acceleration.
Each vessel also was equipped with seven, highly-sophisticated, heavily-armoured, single-Warrior, combination attack and scouting vessels. These vessels were parked on the outside of the central section of the fuselage, and they were only accessible by airlocks.
The Armada Commander on the Flagship was standing alone in the middle of a small, hexagonal, darkened chamber. A single, low-intensity light was positioned directly above its head. Suddenly, at exactly the set time, holographic images of the six Ship Captains sprang up around the circumference of the chamber.
“Greetings, Ship Captains,” growled the Armada Commander. “As always, I will report first. Conditions aboard the Flagship are nominal. One half of the Warriors on this vessel are still in hibernation, and I have decided those Warriors will remain that way to provide the Armada with a reserve of replacements, if that should prove necessary.
“Point forward, for you to declare a nominal readiness status, all of your Warriors must be awake, fully alert and completely fit for duty! Your vessel must also be fully functional, in every way!
“Now, does anyone need to confess to a sub-optimal condition?”
There was a long moment of silence, then the commander said, “Right, Ship Captains, so I will now conclude that we are at one hundred percent battle readiness, and I will officially log our combined status as such.
“Standard deceleration will continue for another, ah, zero point three five home planet years. You will now begin drilling everyone according to the training and re-training manuals.
“Furthermore, we will continue to ma
noeuvre in a coordinated, disciplined fashion at battle-readiness speed when we have penetrated the expected outer solar system region of icy planetesimals. Our long-rang scanning indicates the density of outer planetesimals appears about average for a yellow dwarf star system.
“Our primary target has become quite clear to the command staff. It is a rocky and watery planet, and the third planet orbiting the target star. The planet has a moon. Both the planet and its moon are practically glowing with unnatural, organized electromagnetic emanations! A lifeform on the planet and its moon may prove to be relatively intelligent, but this lifeform is also incredibly foolish and arrogant to reveal itself so blatantly! Still, we will assume it is a worthy opponent, and we will proceed on that basis.
“Our battle plan will be refined as we gather more information. You will all be asked to contribute and comment on each new draft of the battle plan in an expeditious manner. Consider this task as equally important as commanding your vessel and crew! Give it your full attention!
“Are there any questions or comments at this time?”
As expected, there was another prolonged moment of silence, and then the Armada Commander said sternly, “Right then, Ship Captains, today’s meeting is therefore completed. Resume your individual command duties!
“We will meet again at the same time tomorrow.”
20
Including commissioned and non-commissioned officers, there were one hundred and twenty highly-trained, elite commandos in the First Space Ranger Company. The Company consisted of two Assault Platoons, and one smaller Special Weapons and Equipment Platoon. The Assault Platoons each had three squads, and each of those squads was led by a sergeant.
Each platoon was under the command of a lieutenant who reported to the company commander, Captain Fitzpatrick. Fitzpatrick was assisted by an executive officer, First Lieutenant Sweetwater, who was de facto second in command.
The senior and very experienced First Sergeant McIlroy also assisted and advised Captain Fitzpatrick. McIlroy was so respected by the Ranger Company that when he simply suggested someone should do something, all Rangers, including officers, would treat his proactive suggestion as a direct order from Captain Fitzpatrick.
The members of the entire Company were now standing at rigid attention in a long, single row inside of an airtight, structurally-reinforced and smoothly-panelled lava tube deep within Addy Moon Base.
Colonel Mustafa ‘Musty’ Chamberlain had just been transferred to the newly-commissioned Space Navy service. Chamberlain had been commissioned as Captain of the Indefatigable, the first combined troop carrier and space battlecruiser.
The name Indefatigable had been used before on Earth. The name was first assigned to a British Navy, 64 gun, ocean-going, sail-powered, ship-of-the-line. Later, the name was assigned to a British battlecruiser in the iron-ship dreadnought era. Then later still, the name was assigned to a British fleet aircraft carrier.
So, everyone knew the illustrious history of the ship’s name, and they loved it dearly.
Captain Chamberlain stood at rigid attention directly facing Captain Fitzpatrick, who stood with equal rigidity at the extreme right-end of the long line of Rangers.
The Addy Moon Base Commander, General Ibrahimović, had decided to start his close inspection at the far away left-end of the assembled Company.
General Ibrahimović did not rush through his inspection routine. He considered this final inspection of the assembled Company very serious business. He stopped directly in front of each Ranger, and studied every facial feature, and every aspect of uniform and deportment.
He also thoroughly examined every weapon. He even looked at hair trim and fingernails because he perceived precise grooming as a key indicator of proper discipline and high morale. He finished each individual inspection by staring the targeted Ranger directly in the eyes for thirty seconds or so, with his face close enough to smell the breath of the now fully scrutinized Ranger. And bad breath was something else that he simply would not tolerate.
Captain Fitzpatrick was the last member of the Company to be inspected. He was put through exactly the same routine. After the final eye stare ‘test of character’, the general took two smartly-executed steps backwards. Then he slowly scanned backward and forward along the long line of Rangers, and declared loudly so everyone in the Company could clearly hear, “I can find absolutely no fault with you or the men and women in your Company, Captain Fitzpatrick! Well done!
“Proceed now with the boarding operation! You have exactly two hours to get totally sorted-out! Then I expect you to directly report to me that your Company is fully ready for immediate departure.
“Make your report to me in my office. Bring your executive officer, First Lieutenant Sweetwater, with you. We will also be conducting a final mission briefing, with Captain Chamberlain in attendance as well.
“Now, dismiss your Company, Captain Fitzpatrick, and get moving!”
Everyone in the Ranger Company then came to attention and saluted the general. General Ibrahimović and Captain Chamberlain smartly returned their salute.
Then Captain Fitzpatrick ordered First Sergeant McIlroy to quick-march the Company to the boarding ramp of the Indefatigable. When McIlroy barked out the order, everyone in the Company smartly pivoted and quick-marched away up the long lava tube tunnel. The high precision of their coordinated movement was especially impressive in the low gravity field.
Exactly two hours later, Captain Joachim ‘Mad Beast’ Fitzpatrick and his executive officer, First Lieutenant Heidi ‘Akela’ Sweetwater, arrived in the Addy Moon Base Commander’s office reception area. They found that Captain Chamberlain was waiting for them there. They were all immediately ushered into the general’s office by an attending staff sergeant.
Chamberlain, Fitzpatrick and Sweetwater came to rigid attention just inside the office door and saluted the general. General Ibrahimović rose from his immaculately well-ordered desk, strolled over to stand in front of the three officers, and casually returned their salute. Then he said pleasantly, “At ease, Captain, Captain and First Lieutenant.”
General Ibrahimović was considerably shorter than the two Ranger officers, and just a bit shorter than the lean, black-haired and dark-skinned Chamberlain. Ibrahimović carefully studied them all again for a moment.
The two Ranger officers were both in their early thirties, and incredibly fit and muscular. They also both had brush cuts, and that seemed appropriate.
Fitzpatrick was hairy everywhere, and he had a blemish-free, olive-coloured complexion. His face had been closely shaved, but it still looked like he needed a shave. He was a tactical genius and a superb organizer. He had started his career at the top of his military college class.
In contrast, Sweetwater was fair-skinned, and even freckled a bit, like Ibrahimović. The general guessed she would either be a blonde or a redhead if she let her hair grow. Until a month or so ago, she had been a reservist. She was also a medical doctor and a psychiatrist. And of course, she was also a crack commando.
The forty-eight year old Captain Chamberlain was an all-around genius, especially in electrical and computer engineering. He knew everything about the alien spaceship he would be commanding. And he knew everything about the nine ‘naval’ crew members that he had personally trained to help him run it.
They were three very smart and determined-looking officers.
Brigadier General Eduardo ‘Ted’ Ibrahimović also proudly sported a brush cut. At sixty years of age, he had a lot of grey hair now. He had never left Addy Moon Base since he had arrived eleven years before, and he had been the only official Base Commander. He had been promoted in situ as the facility had grown in size, complexity and strategic importance.
“We all know we have to keep this short to stay on our demanding schedule,” growled the general. “So, cutting right to the chase, we are completely ready to go, right?”
All three of the officers that were under ‘final, final’ inspection barked loudly in unis
on, “Yes, General!”
There was an awkward pause as the general continued to intently scan the faces of the three officers standing in front of him. Then he smiled, and said quietly, “I knew that would be the case. You are the best we have, and so are your people.
“This is really my last chance to wish you good fortune, and to formally empower you. You have a huge responsibility! The survival of our species probably depends upon the success of your mission! That is a hell of a lot to ask of one hundred and thirty people!
“Cutting to the chase again, we will no longer control anything you do from Addy Moon Base, and by extension, from top Defence and Security command back on New Earth.
“The five robot frigates are now in full ‘AI Mode’. You will be directly able to monitor their activity of course, just like we can do from here. The robot ships know their mission, and they can adjust properly to an evolving situation, intelligently, referring at all times to our overarching strategy.
“But you will have full override capability, Commodore Chamberlain! Yes, you heard me right! You are now a Commodore, equivalent in rank to a Rear Admiral, or a Brigadier General, the same as me.
“Your command will include the First Space Ranger Company. I suppose we might have called them ‘Marines’ to make matters easier or clearer for everyone, from an historical perspective. But that was a decision made higher up the ladder. We all must take our orders, and we must not question them. However, good executive officers always suggest alternatives for consideration.
“But, I apologise, I digress.
“So, back on point again! We have to fully empower you, Commodore, because of the time lag associated with being about half-a-light-year way from us when you directly encounter the enemy. And we do not want to reveal anything to the enemy until we absolutely must! So, there will be no electromagnetic communication, with the five robot ships, or between us, until that is absolutely necessary! Is that quite clear, Commodore Chamberlain?”