The Khruellian Encounter Page 29

  Talor mentaled Annika and Jon, “She wants us to help her defend her sister world.”

  Annika responded first, “Of course, where is it?”

  Talor said, “I’ve already entered the coordinates into the ship’s Talo.”

  Annika powered the ship into the air and put the CSF Sparta into a steep climb. Everybody on the bridge braced themselves. As soon as they passed the boundary layer, she jumped to the new location. She sang out, “Threat Situation.”

  The threat board lit up, and the holographic display changed to reveal three moving lights on the horizon circling and diving on a medium sized city. A swarm of Hylox fighters was harassing the ships without much apparent effect. Jon’s immediate concern was these ships might be scouts for a much larger ship or a nearby fleet.

  Talor said, “There is no evidence of any more ships within this system.”

  Jon recalled that of all the Allied Defense Force members, the Hylox Empire was the closest to the Khruellian Hegemony. He speculated that these three ships might be advanced scouts trying to locate the source of the attacks on their homeworlds. He didn’t want to interfere with Annika’s role as captain of her ship, so he mentaled her with his speculations. “I would like to take one of those ships captive if possible. We could learn a lot about the Khruellians if we could interview the prisoners.”

  “I’ll see what we can do,” she mentaled back. Aloud she gave her orders to her crew and judging from the grins on their face they looked forward to carrying out her orders. She gained altitude to build up speed on the downturn and took aim at the highest of the three ships. As the Sparta speed built up the distance closed rapidly. At twenty kilometers the enemy took notice of the closing ship. It turned to meet the threat, but before it could fire, the CSF Sparta’ long-range pulse cannons spoke. Her aim was deadly accurate, and the ship disintegrated in a cloud of smoke and fire. Debris fell toward the ground tailing fire. A second ship rose to race toward space, but the Sparta guns spoke again with the same results. The third ship was being harassed by six or seven Hylox fighters. Whatever defense shield the Khruellian ship had it was enough to keep the fighters’ weapons from disabling it. As the CSF Sparta closed, they could see evidence of superficial damage on the surface of the Khruellian ship, which was making a run for space. Annika’s ship was closing rapidly, but she would not be able to close the gap if the enemy ship rose above her position. The CSF Sparta would lose speed as soon as she tried to climb out of the planet’s gravity well.

  Talor spoke aloud for the benefit of all the crew. “Captain McKinnah, if you can knock off those round exterior pods, the ship will lose local propulsion and can be captured.”

  She gave the orders to the gunners, and at three kilometers the short-range PBWs knocked the round pods off the escaping Khruellian fighter on the first shot. A cheer went up around the bridge. Annika brought her ship to a point one hundred meters off one end of the strange looking craft. Talor said, “They are transmitting a surrender message.”

  Annika asked Talor to send a message to the slowly descending ship to open their airlock so Hylox warriors could enter and take control of their ship. She also asked him to tell them what would happen if they failed to obey. Within seconds the portside airlock opened and several Hylox warriors jet-packed over to the slumping spacecraft and entered the lock. Two Hylox ships attached tether lines to the ship and took it in tow. Annika paced their progress to see that the Khruellian ship didn’t do anything unexpected. Within fifteen minutes Sparta settled on a landing field next to the captured Khruellian warship. As soon as the ramp was lowered, they were reunited with Adalan-Kyfor who jubilantly hugged Annika for her heroic actions. Jon listened to the exited exchange and found he was beginning to understand the Hyloxian’s empathetic language.

  She broke away from Annika and approached Jon. At three feet she stopped and bowed formally. Without raising her head, she said both verbally and empathetically, “Will you be our warrior leader. My people and I will follow you until we can no longer do so.”

  Jon understood most of what she said and Talor’s translation filled in the blanks. He knew he could not refuse her offer; it would be too great an insult to smooth over. Jon also understood why she was ready to commit to an individual warrior instead of an organization of warriors. From what he had seen of the Hylox civilization, it was based on individual fealty. It would be an awesome responsibility if he accepted her offer. He was left with little choice, but to accept.

  He bowed in return and said, “I will serve you and your people as your warrior leader until I am no longer able to do so.”

  Adalan-Kyfor straightened and at Jon’s invitation shook his hands. After a few seconds, she pulled him into an all-encompassing hug. At first, Jon was embarrassed by the sensual nature of her embrace but decided not to judge her intentions by his own physical reactions. Like it or not, Group Captain Jonathon McKinnah III was now commander-in-chief of the Hylox Empire’s armed forces. He wondered how Admiral Dexter was going to take that news.

  Chapter 49

  Newhope Command Center

  The arrival of the CSF Sparta with a damaged Khruellian fighter in tow and five Khruellian prisoners almost caused a riot among the parties wanting to examine the ship and interview the prisoners. As captain of the ship that had pulled off this remarkable feat, Annika was hailed as a hero. Jon, on the other hand, was in trouble. Rumors of his mission to ask the Ankh to share their technology had gotten out, and there had been a severe backlash among the more conservative elements of the CIP Congress. A few were even calling for him to be tried for treason.

  Admiral Dexter was also in hot water, but he was a lot more senior than Jon and had many more years to build up a loyal following among the political leaders of the member planets, many of whom had served with him or under him before venturing into politics. Jon sat in one of Admiral Dexter’s comfortable chairs and accepted the glass of his very expensive Evian whiskey. He hoisted his glass in response to the admiral’s lifted glass and said, “Is this when you tell me I am to be hung from a yardarm tomorrow at dawn, Admiral?”

  In spite of the seriousness of the situation, Admiral Dexter laughed at the young officer’s gallows’ humor. “Not likely to happen, Jon, but we are going to have to change tactics.”

  Jon took note of the admiral’s use of his first name and relaxed. He and the admiral had both gone into this expedition fully aware their individual necks were on the line. A backlash against the accusations against Jon had developed in the CSF space force as well as the Allied Defense Organization who had the most to gain if Jon succeeded in his quest to get the IS-Drive released for general use. For now, they were safe, but they would have to be careful.

  The admiral took a sip of his drink and said wryly, “Congratulations on your promotion to Commander-in-Chief of the Hyloxian armed forces.”

  Jon was embarrassed. He had wanted to explain to the admiral in person exactly how that had come about, but Adalan-Kyfor had wasted no time letting the ADO know where her loyalties lay. “I’m sorry you had to learn about that from the ADO instead of me, Admiral. If I may, I would like to explain what happened.”

  Admiral Dexter laughed in his glass and said, “It won’t be necessary, Jon. Your grandfather and Talo stopped by and explained the circumstances before it became general knowledge.” He finished his drink and said, “Actually, it will work to our benefit for what I would like to discuss with you about your next assignment. First though, Jon, I’m going to relieve you of your wing command.”

  Jon used all his inner strength to control his reaction. First, he had lost his first ship, the Islandia and now he had lost his first fleet command. Whatever the admiral had planned for him had better be enough compensation to cover his disappointment.

  The admiral noted the young officer’s extreme effort to control his disappointment. He had empathy, but he had a war to win. He said, “The CSF Constitution is just about ready for active duty. One of the features of this ship is the
inclusion of ten small fighters in her hull that can be deployed either in space or in the atmosphere to attack the enemy or defend the mothership.”

  Jon’s interest was piqued. He had assumed he would also lose command of the new heavy cruiser coming off the ways when he lost his wing commander’s job. Apparently, that was not going to be the case.

  Admiral Dexter smiled at Jon’s change in attitude. “Our allies have agreed to equip this ship with their technologies. Specifically, the Alphan local drive and inertia dampers, The Hooshag shields, and the Hylox have agreed to provide their stealth technology and the pilots for the small, fighter ships.”

  “What are they getting in exchange?” Jon asked, concerned they were violating his grandfather’s demand to get Ankh approval before any sharing of the IS-Drive secret.

  “They’ll get what we want, an opportunity to study a consolidated-technology warship in action.”

  Jon was getting excited. “What’s the mission of this super ship?”

  Admiral Dexter did something he never did; he poured himself another drink and topped off Jon’s half empty glass. It was a two-drink occasion. “I want you to take the CSF Constitution to the leading edge of the Khruellian expansion zone and, in the words of the late Commander Estes, ‘Poke a stick in the eye of the beast.’ If you are successful in your mission, it should cause the Khruellians to slow down their rate of conquest while they try to assess this new threat to their fleet. It will also be an excellent test of the effectiveness of our combined allied technologies.”

  Jon raised his glass and said, “When do we start, sir?”

  “You leave for Evenia tomorrow. I’ve assigned the CSF Sparta to transport you.”

  Jon stood and shook the admiral’s hand. “Thank you, sir. I must say the road away from the gallows has a better view than the road leading up to it.”

  The Admiral escorted Jon to the door with a chuckle and added, “I wholeheartedly agree with you Group Captain.”

  That night Annika and Jon stayed at the McKinnah apartment overlooking the field. It gave them the privacy they needed and an opportunity to avoid the reporters who hounded them whenever they appeared in public. Both had become celebrities, but for different reasons. Jon kidded Annika about they’re becoming a “Hero and a heel” couple. She had quickly responded, “You’re my hero, Jon. The rest of them can kiss my ass.”

  “I think that’s my job, woman.”

  “Well, get busy, husband. It’s been a while, and it might be a while before we get another opportunity like this.”

  The following morning, feeling refreshed and reconnected, they rode out to the CSF Sparta and readied the ship for her next assignment. At noon the ship lifted and headed for the space boundary. Within fifteen minutes she was descending through the Evenian atmosphere toward the shipyards where the one-hundred-forty-meter-long, one hundred-fifty-thousand-cubic meter CSF Constitution waited for her first mission. In old Earth terms, she was a seventy-thousand-ton warship, thirty-two times larger than her original namesake.

  Jon first view of the ship was breathtaking. Shaped similarly to other CSF ships, the designers had drooped the blended body wing tips slightly which gave the ship an appearance of a swooping bird of prey. Ben King, who had met them at the field, explained the lowered wing tips would replace the main landing struts, and would also aid the ship in supersonic atmospheric flight. Jon suspected that once the fleet adapted the use of the Alphan’s local drive and inertia damper, this would be the last ship designed like an arrowhead. He would be sorry to see the beautiful profile become a thing of the past.

  The launching ceremony was anticlimactic. The CSF was at war, and there would be many launchings in the immediate future. Perhaps if the CSF Constitution covered herself with glory, she would be accorded a more formal ceremony at Newhope. For now, Commander McKinnah was anxious to get his ship into action. After kissing his wife goodbye and promising each other to be careful, he gave the order to lift off and head back to Hylox to pick up a crew of pilot-warriors and have the Hylox stealth device installed. He was certain Adalan-Kyfor would be one of the pilots in the Hyloxian’s crew. After that, his orders were to travel to the Alphan homeworld to have his ship fitted with the Alphan local drive and inertia dampers. Piece by piece, the CSF Constitution would become the most powerful warship in this part of the galaxy. The final stop would be on Hooshag to install shields, which had proved to be very effective against the Khruellian weapons in the last engagement. After all these steps were completed the Constitution would spend a month on trials working out the kinks of integrating four different alien technologies into one fighting warship.

  During this period, engineers from all four space forces would be observing and recording the adaptations and successes for incorporating them into their own fleets. The IS-Drive was the one area that would not be shared until the Ankh gave their permission. The three non-human species understood this and were willing to take the risk to share their technologies without any guarantees they would eventually get the much-coveted IS-Drive in return. The Ankh had promised him a decision in a month and a month was almost up. Jon was anxious to hear their decision.

  The first week of trials went as expected; run an exercise and then stop and adjust the systems. Jon was reviewing the results with the odd collection of engineers on board when Talor announced he had a visitor. For a moment Jon did not comprehend what Talor was telling him. They were in deep space, and Jon couldn’t imagine anyone in the ship’s company interrupting a staff meeting to visit. Then it dawned on him; the Ankh had arrived. He rushed to the bridge to find Ben and his staff staring at a silver globe floating off the starboard side.

  Ben turned to Jon and said, “A person named Marcellus is requesting permission to come aboard.”

  Jon said, “I suggest you let him, not that we could stop him if he wanted to come aboard without our permission.”

  Ben had his com officer broadcast a welcome, and a second later the alarm in the airlock sounded, indicating it was occupied. No one had seen any object or person leave the silver globe. The officer of the deck checked and allowed the inner door to open. A smiling Marcellus wearing a different color toga entered the command deck.

  “Group Captain McKinnah, it is a pleasure to see you again, and thank you for your kind welcome, Captain King.”

  As before Jon could not tell if the image in front of him was real or a projection. His handshake felt real but did not solve the mystery. Jon led the Ankh to his private wardroom. Talor followed behind.

  Marcellus took one of the seats around Jon’s conference. Jon waited for the Ankh to speak. Nothing he might say would approach the importance of what Marcellus was about to tell him.

  The Ankh manifestation leaned back in his chair in a very human-like motion and said, “I must tell you, Commander McKinnah, our society has never debated so long over a single statement.”

  Surprised, Jon asked “Statement?” He had expected Marcellus to say they had been debating about sharing the IS-Drive.

  Marcellus smiled broadly and said, “You boxed the opposition with your statement, ‘That which is inevitable, should be embraced.’”

  Jon refused to let himself speculate about what that meant. He waited for Marcellus to continue.

  “We have approved your request to share the IS-Drive for the duration of your conflict with the Khruellian Hegemony under these conditions; any species wanting the IS-Drive must become a member of your organization, the Confederation of Independent Planets. We encourage the CIP members to approve the necessary changes to their constitution to make this possible. Additionally, each installation must be approved by our former Ares, Talo, as he is known to you. In the future when our Ares has determined the Hegemony is no longer a threat, continued use will depend on the continued existence of the Confederation of Independent Planets.”

  Jon listened to the conditions and knew there would be difficulties with some members of the CIP Congress, but that was not his problem. He had
managed to get the Ankh to agree to share their incredible technology. It was now up to the politicians to make it happen. Jon rose from his chair as Marcellus stood up.

  The Ankh said, “We never take sides in disputes between sentient species. It is our nature to study the causes and effects of such conflicts, but a sizable element among us asked me to wish you good luck, Group Captain McKinnah. Talo has informed your CIP Congress of our decision.” With a little bow, Marcellus vanished.

  “Now that’s what I call a real magic trick,” Jon thought. His com-unit announced, “Commander, the Ankh globe is gone. Are you alright?”

  Jon didn’t respond until he got back to the bridge. He gave Ben a thumbs-up and waited until the excited chatter on the bridge subsided. He looked at the small group of humans and aliens gathered in the command center and said, “The Ankh has agreed to allow the use of the IS-Drive, but there are some conditions attached to their agreement. I believe those conditions will be met by all parties involved. Until then, let’s finish our training so we can show the Khruellians what’s in store for them.”

  Chapter 50

  Aboard a Khruellian flagship

  Hydrol was relieved to be back aboard his flagship. The Commander feared very little in space but feared everything in the Absolute’s palace complex. His infrequent visits to the Hegemony’s power center were punctuated with moments of terrifying confrontations with the Absolute that, from the Commander’s experience rarely produced anything except another execution. Now he was charged with diverting his expansion fleet to explore a remote star system almost fifteen thousand light years toward the galactic center. Deep in his craw, he knew the search would be a useless exercise and eventually he would have to pay the price for not expanding the Hegemony. If he failed to obey the order, he would meet the same fate his hapless nephew had met, a public execution. If he obeyed the order and failed to expand the hegemony, his fate would be similar, only delayed long enough for the Absolute to realize he had sent his expansion fleet on a useless hunt. Either way, Hydrol’s fate seemed to be the same.