Chroniech! Page 7

  "We cannot let them obtain any of the secrets of the ancients," the captain informed his crew. "Bring all ships to battle readiness. Set course to the enemy fleet and engage at maximum. Bring me the person who has been instructed to learn the culture and language of these creatures," the captain ordered.

  A few minutes later an individual who had been studying the Alliance ever since the Chroniech had become aware of them arrived. "How may I be of service captain?" he asked.

  "The enemy you have been studying has found a ship of the ancients and is removing something from within it. We have insufficient ships to effectively engage them in battle at this time. We need to delay their departure until reinforcements arrive. You have been tasked with learning as much as possible about them. In your opinion what is our best strategy for delaying them?"

  The specialist thought for a long moment before replying. He had found it difficult to understand the cultures of the various races known to make up the Alliance and he knew his response could very well determine the outcome of the conflict which was about to occur. "Their thought processes are alien to our own. We do not yet know which species is the master race so we do not know who to initially address."

  "There are those who say the Alliance does not have a single master race," the captain interjected, steering the conversation in the direction he desired.

  "That is true," the scholar agreed. "Yet, we know from historical fact that it is impossible for two intelligent species to coexist as equals. Conflict is inevitable."

  "I happen to agree with historical fact," the captain replied. "But, we are faced with a unique challenge. Let us assume for now that we can negotiate with the enemy. It does not matter if we are dealing with the dominant race or with the subservient species. Do you think you can speak to the enemy as if they were equals?"

  The thought of speaking to an inferior race as if they were equal to his own caused the scholar's fur to stand on end and his claws to extend. He felt that the captain was asking him to betray his entire race. Yet, given the situation at hand, the captain's logic was sound.

  After having calmed himself down the scholar considered what he knew of the Alliance and replied, "I believe that we need only state they have found something which is ours and demand its immediate return. We should display force, but indicate no weapons would be fired if they return to us what is ours. If they believe that we have proven to be the owners of the ship they should return it to us."

  The captain considered this then replied, "I do not pretend to understand your suggestion, but it will be carried out. You will speak to these inferiors as if they were marginally equal to us and convey to them the message you have indicated. You will be compensated for the dishonor of having to speak to them."

  "I will do whatever is required to ensure our victory," the scholar replied as he walked out of the room.

  * * * * *

  Stricklen was in the shower when the alarm klaxon sounded the call to battle stations. As fast as he could, he rinsed, dried, threw on some clothes, and headed for the bridge. Scarboro looked up from a display as Ken strode through the doorway and burst into laughter.

  Quickly controlling himself, Doug said, "Caught in the shower sir?" and motioned for Ken to examine the top of his head.

  Stricklen brought his hand to his hair and encountered a soapy film. He had left the shower so fast he had forgotten to wash the soap out of his hair. Simultaneously both angry and amused at himself, he took the recently vacated command chair and said, "Have someone bring me a towel. What is the situation?"

  "Mobius reports incoming ships," Scarboro replied. "At least five coming in at 3.8Kc; distance now 0.76; ETA one hour forty-five minutes."

  "Three point eight kay!" Stricklen exclaimed. "That's faster than anything we have by a considerable margin. Any logistics data yet?"

  "No sir. Drive wakes are large but that could be due to their speed. Secondary field emissions and power signatures have not yielded anything yet."

  "What is the status of the stasis chamber?" Ken asked as he took a towel from a crewman and began to run it through his hair.

  "Secured in the shuttle bay. The gravitational beam is being directed toward space through the hanger entrance. It's preventing us from closing the bay doors. Integrity is being maintained by the entry force field. Last I heard, McCallister and Falnath were both trying to figure out how to shut it down. Request permission to take my post in CIC."

  "Granted."

  "Captain," the communications watch announced as Scarboro started to make his way off the bridge. "Sorbith on one and Trisk on two."

  ‘Hold on a moment Doug, you might want to listen in on this."

  Doug quickly reversed and retraced his steps. "Coms, establish a split-screen multi-way on my main."

  Following the captain's orders, the communications watch created a three-way link between the parties. Sorbith's face appeared on the left of Ken's main screen while Trisk's appeared on the right. Stricklen quickly finished toweling his hair, smoothed it into place with his fingers as best he could then activated his side of the link and said, "A three-way has been established. What are your orders?" Ken directed his question at nobody in particular since he was not sure who would be giving the orders.

  After a moments hesitation Trisk replied, "As soon as the chamber is secure within your ship you are to begin moving away from the approaching vessels as fast as possible."

  Stricklen turned and nodded to his XO who left to issue the appropriate orders. Turning back to the monitor he said, "The chamber is already secure. We will be underway momentarily."

  "Acknowledged, Mobius out," Trisk said and without warning his image ceased to exist. He was obviously still a little upset at Stricklen. Ken now sat facing Sorbith.

  "I have some additional orders," Sorbith said. "It is obvious that you are unable to engage your stardrive until the chamber's gravity field has been shutdown. I am unsure as to whether McCallister will be able to determine how to do that before the incoming ships arrive. In order to allow you an avenue of escape I would like you to have a member of your engineering department in position to sever the power supply to the chamber at a moments notice. At the first sign of hostility you are to cut the power to the stasis chamber and head for Almaranus at max speed."

  "I thought that an abrupt removal of power could result in a catastrophic reaction," Ken replied.

  "That is a possibility, and one I'm willing to risk at this time. I know I'm asking a lot but, this device must not under any circumstances fall into the hands of a potential enemy to the Alliance. I would rather see the device destroyed than have it become the property of an enemy. If severing the power does not result in a catastrophic reaction then you will be able to engage your stardrive and make for Almaranus."

  "And if it does there won't be a piece of us big enough to see without a microscope," Stricklen muttered.

  "True," Sorbith admitted, "Either way, the device remains out of enemy hands."

  "Understood," Stricklen replied. "I'll have a man there within five minutes."

  Slowly, the Komodo Dragon moved behind the shield of ships that had formed between it and the approaching fleet. Engineering reported that the intense gravitational field from the chamber was making it difficult to establish and control even normal sub-light drive fields.

  These fields were similar to Kauffman stardrive fields but were much courser and required far less power. But, because of the similarity with stardrive fields, the intense gravitational distortion was causing control problems.

  The incoming ships dropped out of stardrive and into normal space a mere eight hundred thousand kilometers from the Dragon. The two fleets stared at one another across empty space for several minutes.

  Stricklen punched a button on his command console and said, "Tell me about our visitors Doug."

  "I've never seen ships like those before," Doug remarked from combat control. "They mass about 120 kilotons each. Power signatures indicate they're heavily
armed. I would put them as battleship class. Weapon systems and defensive capabilities are unknown at this time. They are too far away to get a good visual."

  The Mobius eventually reported that a reply to their communications attempts had been received. Instead of a language translation signal, which would be expected from a previously unencountered alien race, a standard communications channel had been activated. No video was present, so the Dragon listened in on the conversation between Trisk and the other ship.

  "We are called Chroniech," said a difficult to understand voice. "You are in possession of a ship which belongs to us. We demand its return. We do not wish to engage in hostilities but we are prepared to retrieve our property using all means at our disposal."

  "You speak our language?" a surprised Trisk replied. After waiting a moment for a nonexistent reply he continued. "If you are referring to the cargo ship we have been examining then you are in error. We have determined that it has been drifting in space for many thousands of years and therefore cannot logically be yours."

  "The ship's configuration matches those built by our ancestors. It does not matter how old it is — it was built by my honored ancestors and we will not tolerate any further desecration by you. We will not ask again — return it to us."

  There followed a significant period of silence then Trisk said, "We are done examining the ship. You may take it if you wish."

  "You have removed an object from the ship's cargo bay. This must also be returned to us."

  "No. We have not completed our examination of it. The ship was found drifting in space and according to Alliance law is therefore subject to become the property of anyone who happens to find it. It is called salvage rights."

  "Chroniech adhere to Chroniech law and no other," the scholar replied. "What you are doing is abhorrent to us. You must return to us what is ours."

  "We do not wish to instigate an interstellar incident," Trisk switched tactics. "I, however, do not have the authority to release the object to you. I will have to consult with my superiors. This will take some time considering the distance we are from our base."

  Another conversation then took place at the other end of the communications link. Two scratchy, rough voices were heard apparently speaking to each other. After a moment, a reply was heard, "I have been instructed to demand one more time that you return to us what is ours or we will take it from you by force. In order to avoid an interstellar incident I suggest you comply immediately."

  "We do not respond well to threats. You are free to claim the ship and nothing more," Trisk replied. "I suggest you refrain from further threats so that we can talk about opening relations with your people. Perhaps some sort of… "

  "Enough!" the Chroniech shouted. "You creatures do not deserve the privilege of even speaking to a Chroniech. I have been dishonored in having been ordered to speak to you. You will return the object which you have taken — now!"

  "No," Trisk calmly said and waited as the silence grew.

  * * * * *

  Falnath and McCallister both looked up from the computer screen when Petty Officer Keefer ran through the door breathing heavily. He was carrying a large box with both arms. "Captain's orders," he rasped, trying to catch his breath. "Where is the primary power feed to the stasis device?"

  McCallister spun around and said, "Hey! You can't just barge in here and… "

  Raising his voice Keefer interrupted, "There is no time for argument. A group of potentially hostile ships have arrived. I have been told to tell you to expedite your efforts to shutdown the stasis device. This order comes directly from Sorbith. I've been ordered to be in position to sever the power feed to the stasis chamber in case we have to get out of here fast. Now show me where to put this."

  Falnath let out a hiss and none too gently pushed McCallister aside and pointed to a pipe near the reactor. As Keefer went to work Falnath walked over to the fuming scientist and said, "These actions are necessary to prevent this device from falling into non-Alliance hands. This ship cannot engage its stardrive while the stasis device is operational. Until then, we are vulnerable."

  McCallister glared at Falnath his anger momentarily clouding his reasoning abilities. It would have been a comical scene indeed if he had attempted to vent his anger on the far larger Rouldian. No Human, no matter how strong, could inflict any damage whatsoever upon the scaled hide of a Rouldian. McCallister's anger quickly evaporated as his keen mind took control. Turning to Keefer he asked, "How long do we have?'

  Without turning away from his own work Keefer replied, "I don't know. The ships will be here in about an hour and a half. Depending on what they do when they get here the word to kill the device's power could come any time after that."

  "I suggest we get to work without delay," Falnath said.

  For the next hour and half Falnath and McCallister worked feverishly to trace out the complex control circuitry of the alien device. Everything seemed to lead back to the still quiescent computer.

  McCallister kept looking over at Keefer who sat silently near the device he had installed around the main power feed to the stasis chamber. If the communicator hanging off his belt issued the proper command he would activate the device setting off a small explosive charge driving a non-conductive blade through the power feed. Hopefully, the sudden drop in power would not cause the reactor to explode.

  About once every fifteen minutes Keefer's communicator would whisper a request. Keefer would then ask the same question, "Any progress?" Falnath would give the same response, "None so far." Keefer would then quietly relay this answer to the bridge.

  As the deadline approached McCallister finished a scan and smiled. "I might have something," he said pushing the portable analyzer cart around so Falnath could see the screen. A complex web of interconnecting circuitry was displayed with some of the circuits highlighted in color.

  "Based upon this circuit trace I believe that depressing this button should initiate an emergency shutdown of the device. It feeds into an auxiliary control system that seems to be tied into both the reactor and the stasis device bypassing the computer."

  Falnath pondered over the display for a few moments before admitting, "This is your area of expertise but from what I can see here this looks promising."

  McCallister pointed to a switch. "Take a look at the symbology depicted above the switch. Let's assume that this device really is what we think it is — a device designed to hold something in stasis for many thousands of years. If I were to build such a device I would assume that my people's language would change over the years. I would try to label the switch so that my ancestors would be able to understand it."

  Falnath leaned over and made a closer examination of the switch. "You may be right, but the symbol over the switch does not suggest any purpose to me."

  "But we didn't build the thing!" McCallister argued. "Look around the room here," he swung his arms in a wide circle. "Do you see any symbols on any of the other controls?"

  Falnath glanced around the room then replied, "I see symbols near each and every control. But, all the symbols except this one appear to be letters. This is the only switch that has a picture near it."

  McCallister looked at Keefer and asked, "How long before the fleet gets here?"

  Keefer glanced at his watch, shook his head, and replied, "They're probably here already."

  McCallister approached the panel. "Then let's push it! It's sure better than risking a catastrophic failure of a multi-terrawatt reactor."

  "You are perhaps correct. However, I believe we should inform the captain that we are about to attempt a shutdown of the stasis device."

  "Why? We are in charge of this project, not the military. The captain gave us instructions to find a way to shutdown this thing ASAP. We've found a way and I believe we should go ahead and shut it down."

  Falnath turned toward the chamber's door. As she walked she said, "Still, I think we should inform him of… " Out of the corner of her eye she noticed a movement. Turning her head s
he saw McCallister reaching for the button. "What are your doing?" she shouted.

  Before she could react, McCallister had placed his thumb on the button and applied a little downward pressure.

  6 - The First Battle

  "Sensors are picking up a matrix field forming around all Chroniech ships," a voice reported from CIC. "Request permission to go weapons active."

  Stricklen knew that in order to begin fighting, the Chroniech ships would have to move in closer than eight hundred thousand kilometers. Typical battle strategy would call for a short faster than light run to put them within striking distance of the Alliance fleet. The matrix fields were a sure indication the Chroniech fleet was about to do just that.

  As with all Alliance ships, the Chroniech stardrive required a matrix field to be established prior to engaging the main drive. This matrix field acted as a sort of conductor to guide the stronger and more complex stardrive fields as they formed. Alliance matrix fields required several seconds to become stable before the main drive fields could be powered.

  "Permission granted — we are not to fire unless fired upon first. If they want a fight they're going to have to be the ones to start it."

  By the time this order had been issued, the buildup time for the stardrive fields was completed and the Chroniech fleet had gone FTL. A few seconds later they appeared much closer to the Alliance fleet. As soon as the Chroniech ships were in normal space they opened fire.

  A barrage of nuclear-tipped missiles leapt out from the attacking ships. Faster than light driven sensors detected the missiles almost the instant they were launched and fed this information to the combat computers. The computers calculated each missile's course, assessed its threat potential, assigned each of them a targeting sequence, and began a counter-attack. Powerful needle-beams lanced out from the Alliance warships to lick at the silvery defense screens of the incoming missiles.