Read Sol (The Silver Ships Book 5) Online
Authors: S. H. Jucha
Woo cleared her throat softly, knowing she was treading on dangerous ground and about to betray a military commander and his fleet. “No one in the military command, including myself, authorized Admiral Portland to undertake this mission.”
“Tribune Woo, this is Admiral Tachenko. What does Admiral Portland believe his mission to be?”
“According to Portland’s message to Space Admiral Chong, he believes you were about to make a run at Saturn so he intends to intercept your move.”
“Intercept?” Tatia asked. “You mean attack and attempt to destroy us.”
“Yes, Admiral,” Woo admitted.
“Tribune Woo,” Brennan interjected, “while I’m not privy to all that happens here on the station or with the Haraken fleet, I’ve seen no preparations for an invasion of any other … pardon me, Mr. President … I’ve seen no plans to move the Haraken fleet from Idona. In fact, all efforts have been concentrated on restoring the commercial capability of this station, and, I must say, the progress has been nothing but outstanding.”
“Be that as it might be, Tribune Brennan, Admiral Portland is about to bring that progress to an end. He has a considerable fleet. Let me tell you what you are up against, Mr. President.”
“Um … Tribune Woo, that’s not necessary,” Brennan said. “I believe we’re looking at Portland’s fleet now. Is that not correct, Julien?” Ian Brennan had learned enough in his short time on the station that if something seemed technologically incomprehensible, it was best to ask one of the SADEs.
“That’s correct, Tribune Brennan, this is a probe’s view of Admiral Portland’s fleet on approach from Saturn,” Julien replied.
“You’re looking at the fleet? How?” Woo asked.
“Julien, please,” Brennan said, indicating he should reply.
Woo muttered something unintelligible. She was busy filing that piece of information in two places: dangerous technology the Harakens possessed and a potential tool she might borrow to mitigate the oncoming disaster Portland was fomenting.
“So, exactly what are you seeing?” Woo asked, no longer caring whom she was speaking to or who answered.
Brennan looked at Alex, who nodded. This moment was like so many of the others Brennan had experienced since arriving at Idona. “We’re looking at a Haraken holo-vid, Tribune. It’s a projected, three-dimensional display of whatever data is fed to it. In this case, it’s a probe’s view. I’m putting my hands into the holo-vid to expand the view, and now I’m rotating the view to focus on the admiral’s battleship. This is incredible, Tribune. I can view every ship in the fleet closeup.”
Woo was holding her head in her hands.
Bunaldi, why did you have to make enemies of these people?
Woo asked herself.
“Is there anything else you wish to convey, Tribune Woo?” Alex asked.
Woo racked her brain for whatever she might say to mitigate the horrendous oncoming clash of people, ships, and cultures. “Perhaps no one in the UE has said this to you, Mr. President, so let me be the first. On behalf of the government of Sol, I’m deeply sorry for the actions taken by our people in your systems and whole heartedly wish that we could start over.”
“Apology accepted, Tribune Woo, but it does not erase the past. The UE has its work cut out for it, if you wish to earn our trust. I suggest you build it among your own people before you ever approach us again.”
When Brennan returned to his quarters, Tatia regarded Alex, who was deep in thought, his chin supported by his hands. “Alex, there is a good argument for saying that what you intended to do, give the UE a reason to stay away from the Confederation, has been accomplished.”
Alex glanced at Tatia and those others still in the room.
So many expectant faces,
Alex thought. “Not yet, Tatia, not yet.”
After Woo’s call to Idona, a thought occurred to her, and she looked over the comms table, locating the repeat call icon, and tapped it to start her call. “This is Tribune Woo for Julien.”
“Yes, Tribune, how may I be of service?” Julien replied.
Woo shook her head in disbelief that communication to a distant planet could be this easy, and that the Haraken SADE could be so accommodating was disconcerting, to say the least.
“Julien, I need to speak to Captain Shimada, if you please.” Woo couldn’t remember the last time she had said please to someone and the thought was even more perturbing than her previous one.
How far we’ve drifted from even the courtesies,
she thought.
“One moment, Tribune, and I will connect you with the captain. You do understand that I will be monitoring your exchange.”
“Yes, Julien, and I want you to relay to your president what I will be telling Captain Shimada.”
Reiko Shimada was woken from a deep sleep by an insistent beeping from her comms console, and she struggled to tap the connect icon on her display “Shimada here,” she said in a sleep-deprived voice.
“Apologies, Captain, but you have a comm from Tribune Woo,” the comms officer on duty reported.
“Send the message to my console,” Shimada replied.
“Captain, it’s not a message. It’s a comm call from Tribune Woo routed through the Harakens’ FTL comms system. Julien, the Haraken SADE, is relaying her call.”
Shimada was instantly awake. Her first thought was that it would be an audio-only comm, and she needn’t dress. She grabbed a carafe of water by her bed and guzzled much of it to hydrate herself and help wake up. “Put it through, Lieutenant,” Shimada ordered, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.
“Captain Shimada, while we’ve never met, I must take a moment to enjoy this sisterly occasion,” Woo said. “We are the first UE woman-to-woman conversation across our solar system, excluding Julien, who is handling this comm.”
“Do I understand you’re still on Earth, Tribune Woo?” Shimada asked.
“Yes, Captain, I’m using the Harakens’ FTL comms system, but let’s get down to business. We have a big problem.” Woo succinctly outlined Admiral Portland’s message to Space Admiral Chong. “Before I continue, Captain, I have one important question. Have you witnessed any steps taken by the Harakens to move their fleet?”
“Negative, Tribune. Their three ships haven’t moved since about two days after they took over the station.”
“Thought as much, Captain. At this time, Admiral Chong and I consider Portland a renegade and his fleet movements as unauthorized.
“How may I be of service, Tribune Woo?” Shimada asked, her guts roiling at the possible requests the tribune might ask of her.
“I need you to offer your assistance to the Harakens in whatever capacity they deem useful,” Woo replied.
Reiko Shimada was shocked. She expected to be ordered to abandon her post and retreat inward from the area. Her secret hope would have been just this, to support the Harakens, but it was a hope she could never have voiced.
“I have one concern, Tribune. Helping the Harakens will be viewed as treason by the judiciary.”
“I intend to indemnify you, Captain. Record this next section separately,” Woo ordered.
When Shimada readied a separate message file, she cued Woo and heard, “Captain Shimada, Admiral Portland is conducting an unauthorized fleet movement, intending to attack the Harakens at Idona Station. As the tribune representing the UE military contingent and with the approval of Space Admiral Li Chong, you are hereby ordered to lend whatever support, intelligence, or material that President Racine of the Harakens might request of you to defeat Admiral Portland’s rogue military action. Tribune Woo out.” Shimada closed the file and switched back to the open comm.
“Any questions, Captain?” Woo asked.
“Are there any conditions that apply to this order, Tribune Woo?” Shimada asked.
“None, Captain. Good luck. Tribune Woo out.”
Shimada tapped off her comms console, but it remained lit. She tapped it a second time with no effect, and then the issue dawned on her. “Yes, Julien?”
“Greetings, Captain Shimada. I anticipate my president and admiral will prefer a face-to-face opportunity to discuss Portland’s foolish foray.”
“Understood, Julien. I presume we have time?”
“We do, Captain. First, I suggest you move your destroyer and patrol vessels outward of the station.”
“What distance do you want me to maintain from Idona?” Shimada asked.
“Any distance you feel appropriate, Captain, but outside of the freighter transit lanes.”
“We’re no longer banished to the dark?” Shimada asked, a small smile tweaking the corner of her mouth. When Julien failed to reply, Shimada added, “We’ll get underway immediately. I should be on station in a little more than two days.”
“I’ll let the president know to expect you, Captain. Your assistance is appreciated.”
This time, Shimada watched the comm console wink off by itself. It would have been humorous if it didn’t mean that with artificial intelligences there might no longer be any personal privacy.
Of course, your privacy would depend on the moral nature of the intelligences, which would depend on the moral natures of those who created them,
Shimada thought.
* * *
Shimada arrived at Idona much sooner than expected. Her destroyer was underway for about eleven hours when a Haraken fighter paralleled the ship. Actually, it suddenly appeared off the bridge’s view shields while Shimada was simultaneously hailed, causing the destroyer’s pilot a momentary miss of a couple of heartbeats.
“Greetings, Captain Shimada. I’m Wing Commander Franz Cohen. Request permission to come aboard, Captain. The president would like you soonest at Idona.”
Shimada made a quick decision.
Better start acting real nimble, Reiko, if you’re going to keep pace with these people
, she thought. Command was handed over to her senior lieutenant, who had the coordinates for their new position off Idona Station. A quick call to her steward had him packing her cases and meeting her in the destroyer’s bay.
A panicked flight chief called Shimada, wondering how to squeeze an enemy fighter into an already crowded bay.
“Let the pilot figure out what he needs, Chief,” Shimada returned. “Just clear your people from the bay and get the doors open. I’m curious to see how well these fighters can maneuver.”
Shimada and several of her crew crowded the airlock hatch’s view plate, which looked into the bay. That officers and enlisted people were breathing down Shimada’s neck for a glimpse of the Haraken fighter was something she could forgive today. The pilot eased nose first into the bay’s opening, held steady for a moment, and then backed out to swing neatly around 180 degrees and reverse the fighter into the bay. Maneuvering his ship into the bay’s corner, the pilot settled the fighter to the deck.
More than a few expletives filled the air of the airlock over the performance.
“So that’s what we would be up against,” the flight chief murmured to Shimada.
“Approximately 400 of them, I understand,” Shimada murmured back. A soft, slow whistle behind her greeted her announcement. “Yes, good reason not to piss them off,” the captain added. “Let’s go, Chief. My ride is waiting.”
The chief ordered everyone out of the airlock, closed the bay doors, and when the bay and airlock were equalized, Shimada strode across the bay and watched a hatch appear where there had been no sign of it before. But what truly caught her eye was the unusual hull. It was smooth, no angles in sight, and, instead of a metal sheen, it possessed a beautiful translucence in the ocean’s colors.
Shimada was eyeing the steep steps inset into the hatch, which had folded down, when a mountain of a man, similar in size to the Haraken president, bounded down the half-dozen steps using only two of them. To her mind, the vid comms with the Harakens did not accurately portray their incredible size. After a quick greeting, the commander snatched up her bags in one hand and offered to assist her up the steps with the other.
For a big man, he’s nimble,
Shimada thought, giving the commander a second look.
Inside, she was seated, and the commander disappeared. Shimada waited for the sensation of the fighter’s launch, but it never came. Then finally, Commander Cohen came back into the cabin.
“We will be on station in ten of your hours, Captain. Relax and enjoy yourself,” Franz said.
Shimada felt like a passenger on a luxury cruise. She was offered water and food, which she found delicious, but nothing matched her sublime seat. When it first shifted under her, Shimada found it extremely disconcerting, as if it should have waited for her permission. The next few times she moved and the seat responded in kind, she was merely annoyed. But, hours later when she sat drinking a marvelous cup of what the Harakens called thé, she thought of the chair as her personal masseuse.
Late in the flight, the commander returned to chat with her. “I was under the impression, Wing Commander Cohen, that this was a fighter. Am I mistaken? It appears to be a shuttle,” Shimada said.
“Call me Franz, Captain,” Cohen said extending his hand.
“Reiko,” Shimada replied.
“You’re not mistaken, Reiko. This is a fighter, but because it has the capability of traversing a system as many times as desired without refueling or rearming, we must travel with amenities.”
“Is this your way of flirting, Commander Cohen?” Shimada said, her eyes staring hard at his. “Yes, I’m UE, and yes, I’m a woman, but does that give you the right to think less of me and tell me stories?” Shimada expected the chastised wing commander to become indignant and stomp back to his pilot’s cabin. Instead, he gave her a good-natured smile.
“I won’t deny you’re an attractive woman, Captain, but you’ve been told no stories, as you put it. While I’m not at liberty to discuss how we achieve these extraordinary capabilities, I can tell you that some of the technologies are borrowed … alien stuff, you see.”
The commander winked at her and left to return to the pilot’s cabin. Shimada dwelt on what the commander said until she was lulled to sleep in the oh-so relaxing seat.