Earth Song: Etude to War (52 page)

“Captain, I’m sorry to ask your men to stay on Jumpoff for so long, but it is more advantageous for our situation if all the Rangers should return en masse.”

“No explanation needed, commander.” The look on his face was one of an attentive and serious soldier.

“Very well. We’ll be back in a day with another company.”

“We will establish a base camp five kilometers to planetary south.”

Minu nodded. There was a tiny, ancient settlement there that had been thoroughly studied by Chosen scientists. No explanation had ever been agreed upon for its existence. Ted Hurt believed it to be the evidence of a species’ leasehold prior to the planet becoming uninhabitable, while Bjorn went with squatters in the ancient past.

Regardless of its origin, the Chosen had used it long ago as a base when first moving out into the galaxy for the Tog, but no-one had set foot in it for many, many years.

The last of the Rangers finished coming through and began organizing to move their heavy equipment. The Portal timed out and Minu used her PCR to open it again back to Edge. Aaron stood there expectantly as she stepped back across hundreds of light-years, her squad right behind.

The captain waved once and she waved back before deactivating the Portal.

“Okay,” she said, “let’s get back to work!”

Chapter 57

June 5
rd
, 534 AE

Deep Space

Fleet Commander Sing-Apal Katoosh listened to the broken communication again in his flag office on the dreadnought. It was from a swarm leader named Saala, his records showing him as a male of some ability assigned as a combat leader aboard the newly commissioned cruiser
Gleaming Spike
.

He’d overseen four of the vessels put into service and sent this particular one to help finish the securing of Planet K in a combined T’Chillen/Mok-Tok operation days ago. That was the last he’d heard of them.

“Fleet Commander Singh-Apal Katoosh, this is Swarm Leader Asa-Oto Saala, in temporary command of cruiser
Gleaming Spike
, Squadron Five. We were dispatched to render assistance to the Mok-Tok on Planet K and have met with the small Lost ship we were briefed about. All T’Chillen vessels destroyed. Most Mok-Tok vessels lost as well, it is unknown their complete disposition.

“During the engagement,
Gleaming Spike
boarded the remains of a Lost transport that the smaller warship was protecting and found it full of humans – HISSS!”

The transmission devolved into static for several minutes. He resisted forcing it to jump ahead for fear of missing a tasty bit of information.

“HISSS – detonating their starship drives and disabled this – SNAP, HISS!”

“BZZZZZ – humans are under – CRACKLE – be considered that they are now a threat to the T’Chillen – HISSS – to make –SNAP – repairs in order – SQUEEL”

And that was the last understandable word. It didn’t matter how many times he listened, there was nothing more to be gleaned.

Another Lost vessel. Humans were involved. But how were they involved, and with who? They were a minor species, worms in service to the Tog. He surmised that the small, powerful Lost ship had returned and taken out the cruiser.

As he thought he updated the fleet database, removing
Gleaming Spike
and its squadron from the assignment board. There was a time that the loss of this many ships would have resulted in a fleet commander’s head being taken, but no longer. He was the only fleet commander, and while costly, the ship would be replaced in weeks. Thanks to their allies, of course.

He was under strict orders from those allies to report every sighting of that Lost ship to them immediately, and he’d already put it off several hours while analyzing the data. Katoosh stared at his communication panel for a long minute before activating it and inputting the code he’d been given. The response, as always, was instantaneous.

“Yes, Katoosh.”

“A cruiser and its squadron have engaged the Lost ship you seek.”

“The outcome.”

“All were destroyed.”

“We see.”

“How are we to fight this ship?” he asked the Grent, somewhere out in the vastness of space. He knew they were perhaps millions of light-years away, communicating through this new fantastic quantum communication system they used. But despite that knowledge, it sounded like the being was in the next chamber. “They seem invulnerable.”

“It is merely a ship. A very powerful ship, to be sure, but only one. You are many. Eventually, it will make a mistake when you have sufficient forces.”

“Then what, oh Great Grent?”

“Then, you will throw every vessel you have at it until it is destroyed. Afterwards, any species allied with those controlling them, will be annihilated as well.”

“As you command,” he hissed and broke the channel. “And once I have been given the tools, I will destroy the Tanam, then the Tog, and even the Mok-Tok.” A little acidic poison leaked from his fangs, which he caught with a darting tongue. “Then maybe, I will deal with you as well.”

He turned his thoughts to the Lost ship and what it might mean where the battle took place. Such a ship must consume vast amounts of power, and a pitched battle in the Planet K system would likely have left it depleted.

He gestured with a coiled arm and a three dimensional map of the quadrant around Planet K appeared. There were only so many places a ship could obtain the sorts of power needed to run a warship like that, and he thought he knew where it might have gone.

Chapter 58

June 12
rd
, 534 AE

Dervish Star System, Galactic Frontier

The blue-white starlight from Dervish's primary of three stars lit the CIC of the Kaatan, casting Lilith's sharp angular face in a sinister light as she regarded the dozen screens of data with cautious eyes.

The star system had no entry in the ancient People's database she possessed. The power generation station that hovered within the energy vortex between the stars was tactical in nature, and either constructed after the database she used was created, or classified above her access.

Sensor data flowed for long minutes after they'd emerged from tactical drive. The faster than light travel system was instantaneous and required no power. Lilith also insisted it was almost undetectable by other ships. Its only drawbacks were range (limited to a hundred light-years or less), and departure/destinations. You were forced to jump to and from points in the galaxy where space time was weaker than normal and thus easy to transit across the dimensional barrier.

“We are alone,” she informed her mother finally.

Minu had watched silently, standing in the empty space of the CIC courtesy of a series of forcefields and gravitic generators.

“Good to hear,” Minu replied and nodded with relief.

The conflict with the newly constructed ships had her rattled. After so many years of refining the theories of Ted Hurt and Bjorn of the decline of the Concordia, here was a fact that completely flew in the fact of that theory. The more she learned, the less she understood.

“ETA to the station?” she asked.

“About eleven hours,” Lilith replied as she got that far away look in her brown eyes that spoke of conversing with the ship’s systems. “Main power is below ten percent so I am operating on reserve.”

Minu learned recently that the reserve power systems of the Kaatan were designed to provide energy at a slower rate than the main power. That her daughter was using the reserves meant she felt safe in the system. “Okay, I'm going to take some down time before we arrive.”

She fully intended to head to her quarters and get some sleep, but instead she ended up in the medical bay. It was strangely empty after the weeks of treating injured Rangers and Chosen from the battle of Planet K.

Hundreds of wounded had been taken aboard, scores near death. True to her word, Lilith's ship saved them all. Many had left under their own power to wait on Jumpoff for her word to arrive, some with super-advanced cybernetic limbs, muscles, or organs like the ones in Minu's body. The arm she'd gotten from the ship years ago was so flawless she usually forgot it was not the one she'd been born with.

In the shiny white medical bay, a solitary blue crystalline bot glanced up with its spindly eyestalks to observe her entrance. Sophisticated scanners in the wall evaluated her condition, decided she was not there for treatment, and the bot went about its maintenance work.

Minu moved across the bay to the work area on the far side. What was once an operating table was now a living area. Barely a cubic meter in size, it was still more than sufficient for its occupant.

“Come to stare at your prisoner?” asked a disembodied voice from her translator. The Mok-Tok’s tiny form looked up from a little cushion near the center of its enclosure. An array of artificially produced fruits was nearby, some partially eaten, others ignored. The medical intelligence had produced a diet that matched their captive’s requests as best it could. Hodo Bapal said it was adequate, at best.

“I was hoping for a civil discussion.”

“Were you?” it asked. Minu always marveled at how the translator often managed to convey complex nuances of alien speech. Bapal’s words almost dripped sarcasm, suggesting it believed Minu barely capable of independent thought.

“Unless you would rather share company only with the bots,” she shrugged and turned to go.

“No,” it answered quickly, and Minu grinned before turning back. “A human to talk to is better than nothing.”

“You honor me,”

“Yes, I suppose I do.” Minu swallowed the retort that came to mind and pulled over a stool to sit on. Like all the rest of the accommodations on the Kaatan, it was adapted from the long extinct People. Even so, it was never quite as comfortable as native designed furniture. “What do you wish to speak of?”

“Well, it would be useful to know your sex.”

“Would it? Why?”

“Are you always going to be this difficult?”

A little laugh. “If I am being difficult, I apologize.” The mouse stood up from the little cushion and affected a tiny bow, “You must understand, I am as curious about your species as you are about mine.”

“I rather doubt that.”

“Oh, you shouldn’t. You see, if we are to begin killing your people in large numbers, it would be best to learn more about you!”

The honesty and exuberance of the comment made the hair stand up on Minu’s neck.

“It is our way to study, understand first. Then, once we embrace an adversary, we annihilate them.”

“And you’ve done that many times?”

“Oh, more than you can count,” it said, and Minu had no doubt it was being completely truthful.

“So you are no different than the T’Chillen.”

A snort and the little mouse chuckled. “Oh, now you are being unfair.”

“Am I?”

“Of course. The T’Chillen have extinguished at least as many species as we have, but where we consider ourselves a surgical implement removing old dead tissue, or young cancerous growths, the T’Chillen are a virus destroying all that lie in their paths. They are rampaging beasts, only really enjoying life when they are ripping it apart.”

“And yet you ally yourselves with them.”

The Mok-Tok looked at her without comment.

“So many of the species of the Concordia are a dichotomy, even a study in absurd contrasts.”

It seemed to be considering the translation for a moment before reply. “You are still in service to your masters,” it said, more of a statement than a question.

Minu said they were and it continued:

“As I thought, though this is an enigma in itself,” the being gestured at their surroundings, no doubt meaning the ancient ship, “your understanding of the universe is lacking vital pieces that will come with your awakening.”

“A song I’ve heard before,” she mumbled.

“Species like yours are all the same, so eager to know everything. If you did know, you would wish to unknow.”

It was Minu’s turn to chuckle.

“What is amusing, human?”

“There is an old human saying; That which has been learned cannot be unlearned.”

“Wisdom, even from a foolish child of a species.”

She was getting used to the casual insults and moved on. “And the Tanam, how do they figure into your schemes?”

“They don’t, at this point. We know they screamed and pounced on you some years ago, and got their paws slapped for it.”

Minu nodded, unconsciously flexing her cybernetic leg muscles (a legacy of that brief war).

“Where our drive is to control the path of the Concordia and remove problems from that path, and the T’Chillen’s is to kill anything that hints at a challenge to their power, the Tanam motivation is pride and prestige. They are ever the felines, strutting around, grooming themselves, and looking for offense. They are not above making a credit where they can, and this I understand was what ran them afoul of you and the Tog; credits.”

“We’ve wondered about that for some time,” Minu said under her breath. “We’ve always suspected the Rasa leadership had something to do with it.”

“As have we, but since the T’Chillen chewed them to pieces, the Rasa are all but extinct, so that is a moot point.”

Minu was astute enough to know the little being was testing her. It had seen Kal’at the day she’d released it from its temporary prison, so that was no secret here. She knew it must be very curious about the presence of a Rasa aboard a ship seemingly controlled by humans. She had no intentions of giving it any more information than was absolutely necessary.

“Returning to my initial question?”

“Sex, right. If it is of concern to you, I am a male of my species.”

“Is your leadership sex restrictive?”

It cocked its head at her. “Why would we do that? You take us for a foolish cold blooded reptile?”

“The Tanam are sex restrictive, with females ruling.”

“Yes, they are at this point, but that was different in the past.”

“Indeed?”

“Yes, quite so. They have traded leadership twice that we are aware of. Generally mammals like yourselves and us tend to be more…logical about such things.”

Minu wished that were more the case with her own species. Females on Bellatrix were still a lesser class of people. She was only the second woman ever to wear two stars in the Chosen, and they continued to be a severe minority in business owners as well as political leadership positions.

“What sex are you, human?”

Minu was often caught off guard by that question, even though she shouldn’t be. Despite her feeling the female of her species were obviously such, she knew it would not be that way with another species. Often differences were purely based on size or dress on aliens, not so in humans. Several of the female Rangers were as big as or bigger than some of the men. And by this being's experience, they all wore nearly identical clothing. It was not reasonable to expect them to notice something like longer hair, thinner faces, no facial hair, or breasts.

“I am female, and humans largely are not dependent on sex to determine leadership.”

“There, you see? Aren’t we mammals much more reasonable about such things?”

Minu grinned. Humans suffered from sexism and racism often enough. In the Concordia, the real danger was speciesism. Was that even a word?

“I am sure you are amused by my attitude,” he said.

Minu admitted he was right, already assigning male gender to him in her mind. Who’s the sexist now? “You think we are bad, you should encounter some of the insectoid species out there? Add more than two sexes, or genetic castes to the mix, and you have true confusion. You can’t negotiate with a three meter long bug carrying a beamcaster and only possessing enough neurons to march, aim and shoot.”

“I can only imagine.”

“Is there anything else, human?”

Minu thought for a moment before speaking again. “You brag about being more logical than other species like the T’Chillen and Tanam.”

“It is only a fact.”

“Then why are we fighting? It should be clear we aren’t a threat to the Concordia, or your position within it. We could be a powerful ally to you, or at least neutral.”

“The very fact that you have this ship speaks volumes of your threat to us. That and those fantastic combat suits you deployed.” His voice contained a decided hint of envy for the first time. “As for your neutrality? Now you make me laugh, human.”

“Why?”

“There is no such thing as neutral in the Concordia. You either compete, or are destroyed.”

“That is a simplistic view of things, and rather fatal,” she complained. “What about the Poolab or the Gulla? Or the Hgog for that matter?”

“The Poolab are all but extinct,” Bapal said, making a dismissive gesture with his little hand at the same time picking up a piece of fruit and taking a bite. “They over reached a long time ago and paid the price. The Gulla are neutral for their own survival. They are not truly higher-order, but are useful enough due to some of their abilities that they are tolerated among our circle. The Hgog accept their mediocrity and deal with anyone who has credits. I guess you could call them neutral, but trusting them would be a big mistake. They will sell out almost anyone if the price, both real and political, is right.”

Minu absorbed all this, taking mental notes and nodding. Then came the time to pounce. “And the Squeen?”

The Mok-Tok had been about to take another bite of fruit, his mouth wide. He froze, shiny golden eyes slowly turning to look at her. Minu almost laughed. He closed his mouth and put the snack down, turning to face Minu who felt suddenly cold.

“And what would you know of the Squeen?”

Minu kept her silence.

“Rumors spread among the lesser species, perhaps? Stories of a once great species, one of the greatest, which are now extinct? Ghost stories?”

Once great, Minu wondered. One of the greatest? “Extinct species don’t show up as prisoners of the Tanam. Extinct species don’t move in squadrons of frigates and fight with excellent tactics. Ghosts don’t have the ability to overwrite bot programming on the fly and manipulate high level Lost encrypted cyphers.”

“Perhaps it would be a mistake to underestimate humans as well.”

“On that, we will agree, noble being.” Minu smiled and bowed, but not too far, he was a prisoner after all.

Bapal bowed back, matching hers exactly.

“And with that,” Minu said, “I bid you good night.”