Torian Reclamation 2: Flash Move (9 page)

“Brandon, I must say I’m surprised you’re recruiting students as our assistants. You know this job is too big for the two of us. I would have thought you’d brought some qualified help along with you.”

“I did, Professor. The pilot and copilot waiting for us on the shuttle are both scientists, come to assist. I also brought along one soldier as a guard. He’s a gift from the High General.”

“Oh. Then why did you tell the students we need their help?”

“I need their help for something different, now. Something I couldn’t tell Derek about.”

High General Olut6 was disappointed with the condition of the space station. A year had passed since his last visit. He purposefully stayed away for an extended period, because he wanted to see significant changes the next time he came.

Governor Mip7 seemed to sense his discouragement.

“The fact is, General, tremendous progress has been made since your last inspection. But it’s not progress you can see with your eyes. The finish work will be comparatively quick and easy. It’s the underlying structural construction, most of which is not something a visitor notices, that’s so time consuming. We’re still on schedule for an official public re-opening in three to four years.”

“I won’t pretend the situation doesn’t bother me, Governor. I worked here during the glory days too, remember? To see our once-magnificent superstructure in such disarray, operating at less than half capacity—and looking so vulnerable—hurts me. Perhaps I’ll stay away for another year and see how she looks then.”

Mip7 stood and walked to the window in the back of his office. “That may not be possible, sir.” He pointed to the moored Latian fleet just as a patrol of Torian fighters flew by in the foreground. “Not with all the alien activity we’re suddenly having.”

“You don’t have to call me sir anymore. You’re a governor now, and a civilian.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“Let’s hope that’s the only old habit you find yourself doing, Governor. We’ll agree to act as temporary neutral arbitrators for settling the dispute between these two races. Emphasis on neutral. Double emphasis on temporary. Whatever the result, they can then take it out of our system to settle—with a proper Torian military sendoff if necessary.”

“From your lips to Erob, General. Just don’t count on my help with that sendoff, as I’m getting too old to be climbing into fighter cockpits again. Besides, I’m a governor now, right? But I fear the situation may be more complicated than meets the eye.”

“How so?”

Mip7 tapped on his window over Amulen. “We’ve gotten reports of additional alien visitors. All of them on Continent-3.”

“What? How many? Where are their transport ships, and why wasn’t I notified?”

“No other transport ships have been spotted—other than those belonging to the Dirgs, which are currently in orbit here.” Mip7 moved his finger on the glass.

“Then who are the others and how did they arrive?”

“I don’t have those answers yet, General. The Central Region Militia is requesting a high-level meeting with us, and will not give the details of their agenda in advance. I’m assuming the additional visitors arrived by single transport ships which quickly launched a landing craft before dagging away again.”

Olut6 grunted. “I suppose that’s no surprise, since two entire fleets were fighting a battle inside the atmosphere before registering on our sensors.” He shook his head slowly. “What a sorry condition we’ve allowed to develop there. If this happened at Banor, we’d have picked them up the moment they got close to us.”

“What concerns me most,” Mip7 said, “is all this activity happening in the same area. There are some interesting possible explanations, but not having reliable information is frustrating. We’re getting some indications of unification efforts between the different regions on C3, which could have a lot to do with whatever is going on.”

“That would be a good thing, wouldn’t it?” Olut6 asked.

“Maybe. As you know, I still have friends down there. Perhaps it’s best that Brandon went to try and get them all out. I remember a time when that was my primary concern as well.”

Olut6 stood up. “I guess you better get that C3 envoy up here, then. Brief me on the Latian situation.”

“They’re in the bottom tower deck, waiting for us. Have you seen images of them?”

“No.”

“They’re a unique species, structurally speaking. I would describe them as flat, thin, and wide. Thin sideways, wide from the front and rear. Their bodies are no thicker than half the span of my hand, including their skulls.”

“Now this I have to see.”

“After you, General.”

Olut6 reminisced about the past as he led the way to the tower lift. Being the former commander of the military base here, he knew the station every bit as well as Mip7 even if he chose to avoid it during the reconstruction. It was only proper—and good manners—of Mip7 to follow behind him, a humble act of submitting Cardinal-4 to the authority of the Banorian military. Oh, the good old days. When both Torian worlds were at the peak of technology and cultural advancement, when there were no galactic wars, when other races only came here to marvel over Torian accomplishments. How had they fallen so far?

The lift arrived. Lots of memories riding in these lifts, too. Olut6 ran the base here better than any commander in history, and wasn’t shy about acknowledging it. He kept that extat polwar game from destroying the troops here, and mostly eradicated it from the station. If he hadn’t, Cardinal-4 might be a haunted floating pile of scrap metal by now.

The public recognized his leadership skills, which was why he had risen to the position of High General. Too bad his authority was now only officially recognized on one of the Torian worlds. But he was still committed to protecting Amulen, as it was part of Tora—and, after all, his home world. The Amulites were otherwise helpless to defend themselves from invasion. Once in a while he sent patrols through their atmosphere to remind them of that fact, as he did other day after getting word of the short alien skirmish above Continent-3.

Olut6 and Mip7 exited the lift, navigated a short corridor, and entered a conference room through the automatic sliding door. At first, Olut6 didn’t see anyone in there. But then two aliens appeared as they turned to face them. Olut6 literally didn’t notice them when they were standing sideways.

Facing them now, he didn’t see how that was possible. The Latians were wide and visually dominant with square-like frames and heads hosting large, triangular eyes. They wore clothing, some type of metallic-looking suits, with enough flesh still exposed for Olut6 to see they were soft-skinned—though not as soft as Earthlings. The skin on their bald heads looked tougher than that on their arms and hands, though.

One of the aliens said “Tulros,” and they both bowed. They were polite enough. Olut6 appreciated the gesture of offering a Torian salutation. He returned the bow and greeting.

Mip7 introduced them. “Captain Murrkal, Ensign Larrmin, this is the Torian High General Olut6. General, Captain Murrkal is second in command of the visiting armada from Latia.”

Captain Murrkal spoke. “General, you’re in command of the entire military for both worlds?”

“Correct,” Olut6 said. “Please understand, however, that my authority on Amulen is not undisputedly recognized, unless it’s convenient for them.”

Mip7 released a soft, nervous laugh. The Latians didn’t seem to know what to make of that comment.

“The Amulen government is not unified,” Mip7 explained. “They govern themselves in small regional factions and are not prone to travelling or becoming involved in international affairs. The Torian military is, therefore, stationed on Banor—except for a small company assigned to this space station during the construction work.”

“The situation you describe is starkly different than the reports we have heard on your worlds,” the one called Ensign Larrmin said.

Olut6 answered him. “Things have changed in the last two decades for us. Unfortunately, it has not all been for the better. Otherwise, that bout you had with the Dirgs inside our atmosphere would never have been allowed to occur.”

“Yet you maintain stationary ground defense systems on Amulen,” Captain Murrkal said.

Olut6 cocked his head. “That may be true, Captain, but how would happen to have such knowledge?”

“We encountered them, of course, as did the Dirgs. We are grateful they were nondestructive—or at least, issued a liberal warning, if that’s what it was. Very interesting technology. It certainly worked in this case, forcing us to discontinue the chase.”

Olut6 glared at Mip7, who remained expressionless. This information should have been communicated in the briefing.

“How did it affect your vessels?” Olut6 asked.

“Impressively,” Murrkal said. “The magnetic disturbance threw our weapons systems into manual mode, and caused an approximate 20% loss of navigational control. Our fighters had to pull out, or risk colliding with each other. Tell me, is this technology related to the light weapon you have placed at Milura?”

Olut6 was becoming aggravated. Mip7 mercifully intervened.

“The High General knows nothing of your expedition at Milura. I decided to let you relay it to him, rather than risk a miscommunication. If you would be so kind as to clarify your situation now, from the beginning, we would greatly appreciate it. Also, please assume we have no knowledge of any ‘light weapons’ that may be present in the Milura system.”

The two Latians looked at each other, their heads briefly turning into poles in the process. They seemed a little surprised, but only a little. Whatever this light weapon was they were referring to, Olut6 figured they were uncertain of its origin and were only feeling him out, trying to gain information.

Mip7 began tapping on his lightpad.

“Very well,” Murrkal said. “General, I apologize if I have been unclear. Your governor here told us the story of your battle with the Azaarians and the rescue operation at Milura, and also of the subsequent migration of your Erob half-breeds there. We therefore assumed—or hoped—the weapon we encountered was Torian.”

Captain Murrkal went on to explain how the Latians ended up coming to the Tora system, and why they were fighting with the Dirgs. Both races had inconveniently arrived at Milura with the intent of commencing salvage operations on the two old Azaarian warships still in orbit there. Both the Dirgs and Latians were also de-boarding half-breeds to the planet surface, a significant multitude who requested to be relocated there. This was disturbing information, but for the time being Olut6 had more pressing concerns so he asked no further questions about the migrant half-breeds.

A dispute over the salvage rights arose. At one point, one of the Azaarian warships—which the Latians had already performed a fair amount of construction work on in order to access—turned into an intense ball of white light and began destroying Dirg ships with a great light beam. This occurred immediately after the warship received a saucer-shaped landing craft from Milura. Only a few Latians were still on board, including a small number of half-breeds. The light then retracted and the Azaarian vessel appeared undamaged.

A battle then took place between the Latians and the remaining Dirg fleet in the space nearby. The Latians lost several squadrons of fighters and six of their transport vessels in the ensuing fight, yet were prevailing in the battle when a truce was arranged by three Dirg delegates who were still on board the Latian command ship. Most of the fighters on both sides docked as a result.

The Dirgs then committed an act of treachery—according to the Latians, anyway—firing a barrage of missiles directly from their transport ships just before dagging out of the system. A handful of remaining Dirg fighters escaped into the Milurian atmosphere.

The Dirg delegates had revealed their intention to continue to Tora before the hostilities broke out, so the Latian fleet came here hoping to find them. They did. The Dirgs were involved in a landing operation on Amulen, and the Latians engaged them again, in and out of the atmosphere. But the battle over Amulen was brief, due to a magnetic disturbance the Latians assumed was some kind of Torian defense device. Both sides withdrew to defensive formations; the Dirgs in orbit over Amulen and the Latians at Cardinal-4, where they opened a communication channel with Governor Mip7.

Olut6 and Mip7 stared at each other for a long moment when the story was finished. Mip7 was difficult to read these days, a skill he must have acquired when he became a politician.

“Captain,” Olut6 said, “from your viewpoint, it must have appeared as though the Dirgs were our invited guests. You took a great risk in choosing to attack them here, as you may have found yourself fighting against the Torian military.”

Murrkal nodded. “That is a regretful potential consequence, and one we did consider as we travelled. If we encountered a Torian military presence at Amulen, we were prepared to request diplomatic procedures. As it turned out, the Dirgs were the only ones there, so we made the decision to continue the fight.”

“And now you find yourselves in the position of ‘requesting diplomatic procedures’ regardless.”