Chapter 602

The Alien Ship’s Primary Bridge

The big screen flickered and lit with a view of space.

“You have it?” the First said as he bounded to his feet.

“Not the lock,” the Science Officer said as he continued staring at his tiny screen, his voice muffled because much of his upper body was still inside Helm’s console. “But I am into the artery that controls the screen and ... this,” he added as the picture on the screen split to show the Captain standing in front of his seat on the Auxiliary Bridge. “There isn’t any sound yet, but I should be able to take care of that shortly.”

“Is he aware?” the First quietly asked.

“No,” the muffled reply came. “As you as his immediate subordinate are certainly aware, he has never been one who does things for himself. He always orders someone to do everything for him, so it probably hasn’t occurred to him that his video input might be compromised.” After a couple of moments, “Ah, here it is,” he said as the sound came on. “I have muted our microphones and double-checked our video output, so there is no danger of his seeing or hearing anything from here.”

“And the lock?” the First quietly asked.

“Hit and miss as I said before,” the Science Officer sighed out. “Were it not for my pocket tools, I would have been able to do nothing. However, they are woefully inadequate for what I am using them for at present. The elusive artery will show up sooner or later – I hope,” he finished under his breath. “I stumbled onto the video and thought you might like to know what the Captain is doing. I do not dare try to guess which artery contains the lock, or I might lose my place and have to start all over again. If I had my full array of instruments, I could find it easily, but as I said, with what I have available, I have to check each artery separately. Since each is almost microscopic, the search with my pocket instruments is beyond tedious.”

The First felt like screaming for the Science Officer to hurry, but he clamped down on his emotions and forced calm as the other officer continued with his testing.

I wonder how the Chief fared through this. Since he always keeps the engine room locked, maybe he is safe. Well, as safe as any of us can be with that maniac in charge of the ship.

The First Officer tried his screen controls and found that they now worked. His elation was short-lived, however, because as soon as he brought up the flight deck, he realized that the Paladins were launching.

Can the idiot Captain and Commander not see that this planet is different? he groused to himself. The Earthlings fight among themselves all the time. Our attacking without provocation will most likely serve to unite them against us forever. They have nuclear weapons. No race we have ever encountered has had them. The Earthlings’ history shows that they have used them against their enemies – their own species. If they will do that to themselves, they will not hesitate to do it to us. All they lack is a delivery system capable of reaching us. Even our shields would not hold against nuclear energy. By our wiping out millions of their kind to establish our dominance, we will also make a desperate and determined foe that will never stop until we are all dead – or they are. Oh, we can win – by annihilating them, and wind up with nothing after traveling all this distance.

The First Officer shifted the view to the outside of the ship. Even though they were still a very long way from the planet, under maximum magnification, the Earth swam into focus. If we are going to attack, why have the Captain and the Commander not sent out probes to gather information? They both know that this planet – this race of beings – is different. We have seen the recordings of their fighters practicing, and we know the recordings are reliable because they were witnessed by the Second Officer and his crew. But ... we still do not know where the fighters’ base or bases are located. They did not seem to return to the planet. What planetary forces do these Earth beings possess? We should have approached with caution instead of going in blindly. We need more information before we attack, not to mention that I still think that trade would work far better.

We have grown overconfident because of our endless successes. But ... I strongly feel that this race isn’t going to roll over, present its belly and give up. Even without Precog, why can the Captain not understand that his ego is endangering the whole ship? The same for the Commander. Just because our race has subjugated many planets that did not fight back, or did so ineffectually, there is no reason to think that this Earth will do the same thing. Any reasonable being would think the exact opposite. We have never encountered a race that almost constantly fights among itself, but our AI has verified this through these Earth beings’ own records. Logic fairly screams out that this race is different.

Any idiot who views a few of the recordings the computer has made would realize that these Earthlings will fight. Idiots, he raged inwardly, all those aircraft in their skies and all those vessels on their seas are proof that this world has a great deal of commerce – commerce that we could partake of while exchanging a few out-of-date technologies that could not be used against us. With trade, we could have many ships traveling back and forth to help supply our billions of citizens with food and materials that they sorely need, all for a pittance. And ... the Earth people would be eager to fill those ships for what to us would be practically nothing – just some sorely outdated technology. I know that I am right, but I have to sit here and watch the destruction of an opportunity that could make us rich beyond our wildest dreams.

The First Officer watched the last of the Paladins, led by the Commander’s Paladin, form up and leave to attack the alien planet, which left only six Paladins to guard the ship should this Earth somehow manage to attack.

Well, there goes my idea of trade. That ass is going to destroy and kill when there is no need. I know that I could have traded with these Earthlings. I know that there is no reason for all the death and destruction that is soon to happen, and my Precog is screaming that much of that death will be ours. When I think of trade, my Precog eases off. That has to be the way to deal with this planet. But ... I suppose that killing and taking is too ingrained in our race – to change ever. We have used that method from the very beginning of our space travel. I, as everyone else, have been inundated with the concept of Might Rules from as far back as I can remember. The bigger kids always ruled until I grew to my full stature and learned to use my brain. Even then, I just used techniques that I learned to use in order to enforce my own will over that of others. It is the way of our species, but I strongly fear that it will not work with these Earthlings.

Somehow, I was gifted with faster reflexes and a brain that makes learning easy. But now I sit here helpless while that maniac attacks a planet with force that I think is totally unnecessary, and worse. Force might well destroy our chance of returning home with our holds bulging. But ... how am I to regain control? How, with us locked in here, can I do anything? I am helpless to affect the survival of my fellow crewmembers and myself.

But ... we are armed, albeit with only sidearms. Has the Captain put heavily armed guards on the Bridge? Guards with orders to shoot us down as soon as we manage to bypass the lock and step through the hatch? Even if we do get free, how do we take command back when he is doubtless sealed into the only working bridge? Chances are that as soon as the Captain discovers that we are free, he will order us killed on sight. We cannot fight the whole crew. My options seem to be a lose/lose situation, no matter what we do.

There must be a way to take back command, he thought as he got up to pace. If I manage to overcome him, this time, I will make sure that the Captain can never take back control.

Light minutes away.

Ship spoke. “The aliens began launching their Paladins thirteen minutes and ten seconds ago. (The alien ship was still a long way from Earth.) The Wing Commander’s tight-beam message said that she took only two other interceptors with her, and they are maintaining their shields at maximum in the hopes of remaining unseen while the alien fighters approach. She intends to lie in wait and will attack when her chances are optimum.”

“Shit!” Jeff snarled as he came to his feet. “What the hell is she thinking? I thought she was on a reconnaissance mission.”

Diana came over to take his hand. “She knows what she’s doing,” she tried to assure her husband, but her trembling hand spoke otherwise.

“Dammit, we need a better communications system. Having to wait for a message to get here is a bitch.”

Before he could ask, Helen spoke up. “We tried, Jeff. So far, we haven’t progressed very far, but after this is over, we will have more time to spend on the subject. And yes, I know. We need faster than light communications now, but not even Ship or her people managed to develop a communication system that was faster than the speed of light.”

“I know. I know,” he said as he slumped back into the command seat, “but I still want to know what’s happening to Arlene and Ann.”

“Not to mention the others,” Diana reminded.

The two young wives sat watching their screens, as did the other two interceptor crews. The three craft were very close together and used tight-beam transmission at very low power to ensure that the aliens could not overhear them.

“I can’t believe that all those Paladins are staying in such tight formation like that,” Ann remarked. “Maybe we should have brought everyone and had a party.”

“Unh-uh,” Arlene returned. “We snipe and run to fight another time. Even if we had all our interceptors here, we would still be outnumbered by at least four to one, not to mention the difference in the number of guns on those things compared to ours. Remember, our husband was adamant that we should hit and run to fight another day. We hurt them, then run before they can get organized. Besides, that monster isn’t going to be far behind the Paladins, and we certainly don’t want to be around when it gets here.”

Arlene addressed Bill and Kathy over her tight-beam. “Thirteen, as we practiced: Ann and I will go in at a quarter light with weapons at full power. You will follow two seconds behind us. Try to get a computer lock before you get there. Stop to fire for no more than two seconds. That is the absolute maximum length of time in contact with the enemy. We bug out at a half light. Once we’re ten seconds away from the group, we’ll regroup and immediately return to do it again. During the second attack, we’ll hit the group a third of the way from the back. Eight, your job is to get us out of trouble if it gets too hot in there, but no blind courage. If you can’t get us out, then you can’t. ‘Live to fight another day.’”

Arlene worried that the last part of her orders would go unheeded while strongly suspecting that the interceptor crew that was their backup would die trying to rescue them if their craft were immobilized.

“Okay. They’re approaching. Match speeds and wait for my order.”

“Do we stay with the tight-beam?” Cummings from unit Eight asked.

“Affirmative. I don’t want to give the aliens any more information than we can help. They were certainly capable of interpreting the Colonel’s transmission, apparently in near real time. With us so close to each other, my AI insists that our tight-beams will work even with us in a combat situation, so we’ll maintain that for now.”

“Unit One. My AI is set to lock on as soon as the alien convoy is within range,” Bill offered.

“Guns ready,” Kathy added.

“Same here. My AI is set to lock,” Arlene returned. “Looks like approximately 75 miles per second relative.”

“Guns ready,” Ann added.

“My AI has the controls,” Arlene finished, her voice tight. A few moments later, she continued, “AI has a lock.”

“Ditto,” Bill said.