AMP Siege

"I walked into the light and I could see. Life is an adventure in learning. We learn to walk and to tie our shoes. We learn to add numbers and to read. Life is short. Live a new adventure and learn something new every day."

S.A.

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Copyright 2014 Stephen Arseneault. All Rights Reserved

The metallic sound of the actuators disengaging reverberated through the Grid's structure. We were at our new location. A bright yellow sun shone in the distance. Our harvesters were being readied for departure. Five planetary masses orbited the nearby sun. It was once again time to search for resources.

I stepped onto the bridge of the
Granger
as she prepared to lift out of the docking bay. "Captain, which planet is our best bet?"

The Captain replied, "The third one. It shows as habitable on all the sensors. The iron content is far above normal. If there are no surprises this time, we should be able to get a minimal fleet up and running in a few months."

I plopped down in a chair on the bridge. "OK, let's get this system surveyed and get our one remaining ore harvester out there and digging."

As we sped towards the first of the planets, Ashley sat beside me and spoke. "Are you sure you don't want to go out in the harvester again?"

I replied, "Right. I think once was enough. I hate to think of what might have happened to Duane and another pilot had I let them go it alone on Ponik. We might be subjects of the Colossuns right now, working down in the Ponik mines."

Ashley laughed lightly. "Or, we might have worked out a trade deal and be well on our way to reestablishing our security. You can't second-guess these things, Don. While history itself can be rewritten, the actual events that took place cannot."

I replied, "I suppose. I guess I should be happy we made it out of there. I would say ‘in one piece,’ but we lost a lot of good Marines down there on Ponik. That is something that you can't just shake off."

Ashley placed her hand on my shoulder. "They went of their own free will, Don. They died fighting for what they believed in. It is the same thing you fight for every day. Our freedom."

I smiled, kissed her on the forehead, and then turned my attention to the view-screen in front of us.

The Captain spoke. "Scan feeds are coming in. Temperature of about 420 degrees Celsius on the surface. It has an iron core, but it's not active, has already cooled. The surface layer is about nine hundred kilometers thick. Mostly silicates. It has no atmosphere to speak of. Looks like a harsh place, even for our harvesters."

The Captain then gave the order to proceed to the second, slightly smaller planet. It too lacked an atmosphere. It displayed a molten core and an active magnetic field as it spun rapidly, yielding an eight-hour day. Again, the surface was largely silicates.

We then arrived in orbit around the third planet. The sensors lit up with data. A healthy atmosphere, a protective magnetic field to shield its surface from the solar wind, oceans of water, and the most interesting reading, signs of life. The red planet's surface was rich in iron oxide.

The Captain spoke. "Looks like we have occupants down there. We are picking up weak radio signals that contain unencrypted audio feeds. Translators should have a lock in a few seconds."

The Captain enabled the first of the received transmissions.

A female voice spoke. "Fighting continues in the Danute sector today. The Hargets have once again violated the cease-fire agreement. The initial word from the front lines is that they are holding. Let us pray to Oorah that they continue to do so."

The voice continued, "In other news, a Fergo couple gave birth to a litter of pups today that averaged 0.8 kilograms each. The eight Fergie pups are said to be doing well, the largest of the litter coming in at a whopping 1.2 kilograms!"

A male voice followed. "Oh my! That poor woman. I only weighed 0.4 kilograms, and my mother said that I was a chore."

The first voice replied, "Your mother was right, Gelmede. You are a chore."

I nodded in approval of the sarcastic remark as the broadcast translation continued. "All right! I find it a good sign that we have happened on a species with a sense of humor. These Fergie people, I think we can work out relations with."

The Captain spoke. "Scans have not picked up any signs of ion propulsion or generation. The planet is dotted with small cities, and we are picking up two distinct languages. I'm locking onto another broadcast from the second language now."

A voice spoke. "The continued raids by the Fergie criminals are being met with staunch resistance. The King has ordered additional machinists to Danute. A new war machine is under construction and will be ready to fight within ten days’ time."

The Captain spoke. "Initial video feeds coming in now. We have the sector identified where the supposed fighting is taking place. Sensors are not showing any destruction to buildings or to..."

The bridge was quiet as one of the ultrahigh-definition cameras on the
Granger
zoomed in on the battlefront. The alien beings that inhabited the planet were small, furry green creatures. They stood only thirty centimeters tall. Thousands upon thousands of them labored on a machine that covered an area five hundred meters by five hundred meters. A quick pan of the camera revealed an identical-sized machine being constructed by a multitude of brown furry creatures of the same stature.

I spoke as I continued to look at the images and touched Ashley on the arm. "What exactly do you think they are doing down there? If they are at war, what is it they are building?"

Ashley replied, "That is hard to say. Captain? Can we zoom in on the space between the two large items they are constructing?"

The camera panned and zoomed further.

Ashley spoke. "That looks like a debris field in between them. If you look closely, those machines they are building have tracks. And take note of the broad path leading backwards from each machine; it may seem strange to us, but I think their war is being fought with those machines."

Several additional minutes of viewing passed before a tactical specialist stepped forward with his early analysis.

The specialist spoke. "With quick scans of broadcasts, we have identified two distinct languages. The Fergie, with the green fur, seem to be in control of the two southern continents. The Hargets, with the brown fur, control the three northern ones. There appears to be no interaction between the two sides except for in this one sector."

The specialist continued, "There is no fighting to speak of, but the two sides are both working feverishly on those machines. We discussed this briefly. We do not have any reasonable explanations for this behavior at this time."

The Captain thanked the specialist and turned back to the screen. Further analysis revealed the supplies being hauled to the construction sites were on vehicles utilizing internal combustion engines. Still further investigation revealed what appeared to be storage tanks for naturally occurring methane gas.

A second analyst then came forward with a report. "Sirs, there has been no report of a flight of any type. It appears this civilization is pre-flight. There are also very few ships moving between these five continents on the oceans. What we have identified are extremely large barge ships whose movements appear to be restricted to tight shipping lanes. One other item of note: both sides have referred to the name of the planet as Targ."

The analyst concluded his presentation and returned to his console. Next up for a report was a lieutenant from the sensor team.

The lieutenant spoke. "We are having difficulty with many of our sensors. The high amount of iron down there contributes to a magnetic field that is substantially stronger than any we have encountered before. If we are looking for iron ore, they certainly have it in abundance."

The lieutenant continued, "The interference given off by that magnetic field is preventing us from identifying other minerals that are on our list of needs. Scans of the rest of this star system have not revealed any spacecraft. The asteroid field farther on is not mineable with our gear. We are the only ones flying anything around, so threats to us being here appear as minimal."

I spoke. "I think the lives of the Fergie and the Hargets are about to get a lot more interesting."

Ashley replied, "Why is that?"

I stood as I continued to watch the view-screen. "They are about to get visitors from space, in a flying machine. That is something they have probably never seen. And let's face it: we are giants compared to them. When I land a shuttle down there and step out onto that red ground, I will be four times their height."

Ashley replied, "I'm not sure we should make contact. If they are as primitive as scans have revealed, we should be able to select a remote location, mine what we need, and leave."

The Captain spoke. "I'll have a team look for mining opportunities away from their cities. I would agree with Mrs. Grange. We should let them alone if possible. There is no telling what negative impact we might have if we just show up."

I replied, "Negative impact? What about the positive ones we can have? They mentioned war; what if we could bring that to an end? What if we could teach them how to fly so that one day they can defend themselves against expansionists like the Colossuns?"

After a short discussion with the Council back on the Grid, I was overruled. Our lone harvester would be sent to an isolated sector, where it would mine ore without disrupting the lives of the Fergie and the Hargets.

As I sat back down in my chair, Ashley spoke. "Don't be depressed, Don. We will find you another adventure to keep you occupied. Have you ever ridden on a solar harvester?"

I replied, "No. Besides, Duane said operating those was about as boring of a job as you could have. You have to get in so close to that sun that there is nothing to see. Solar harvesters have no windows. They are barely able to handle the heat from getting in that close. You just park 'em and sit and siphon."

In the days following, we continued to observe the two races of Targs on the planet below. Each side had built their war machine up to nearly seventy-five meters in height. It appeared that a confrontation between the two sides was imminent.

With the information we had gathered from their broadcasts, war between the Fergie and the Hargets had been played out in the same manner for over a thousand years. I wondered how it was that the two races of Targ had not evolved over that time. Moving to ever-higher levels of technology seemed only natural once a defined written and spoken language was developed. For the two sides to be stuck in the same situation for that extended period of time seemed odd, highly unusual.

After two weeks of observance, the great war machines each side had constructed were complete. The scurry of furries on the ground had quickly changed from that of carrying construction materials to that of carrying supplies. On the fifteenth day, all activities came to an abrupt end. The Captain had called us to the bridge.

I spoke. "How long did you say they had been stopped?"

The Captain replied, "For two hours. Every one of the workers just turned and walked away."

I stared at the motionless image on the view-screen and replied, "Why would they build these machines and walk away? What are we missing here?"

An analyst stepped up with a report. "We have movement on both sides. A column of brightly dressed Fergies, carrying yellow banner flags, are lining up on the corridor that leads to their machine. The same is happening with the Hargets over here. It appears that our battle may be about to begin."

I was about to speak as the weapons officer yelled out from his console, "We have incoming ships! Sensors show a large number of craft dropping below light speed and heading this way. They will be here in less than five minutes, Sir!"

The Captain barked orders to her deck officers to prepare the
Granger
to leave.

I stood and countered her commands. "Hold up, everyone! Lieutenant, are you picking up any signals of weapons being armed?"

The weapons officer replied, "That is a negative, Sir. I am not seeing any indication of hostile behavior other than an approach."

I spoke. "Turn on the image projectors, and let's sit this out and observe. And send down a command to that ore harvester to sit tight. It doesn't do us any good to run back to the Grid if we have to leave that harvester. Until we have more of those built, we have to protect the one we have."

We sat silently, watching as hundreds of medium-to-small sized ships slowed and then dropped through the atmosphere. As the ships took positions over the two great war machines, the processions of brightly clothed furry aliens each marched towards their machine.

The sleek, steel-gray ships told of a species that was highly advanced technologically. I found it striking that our passive scans revealed vessels that were not heavily shielded or armed. I wondered who this species was and why they would roam the galaxy in such an unprotected manner. I soon had my answer.

Two massive ships slowed from light speed and eventually took up positions above the coming battleground. Their incredible size should have blocked the light of the Targ sun, but that sun somehow shone through. The other ships had quickly split into two camps, one for each side of the coming battle. Scans of the large ships revealed a Tantric-like armor that was nearly one hundred times thicker than any we had added to our ships in the Defiant fleet. The power feeds and focusing mechanisms for four enormous ion cannons protruded from the front of each ship. These were warships, and from the initial information we had gathered, they were powerful.

As the marching Targs arrived at their war machines, small shuttlecraft could be seen moving from side to side, between the large ships above. The movements among them soon settled. Whatever this spectacle was, it was about to begin. An audio broadcast was begun.

A voice on the broadcast spoke. "Welcome to the bimonthly Targ war games. Once again we have five thousand Targs manning each of the great machines. As always, all wagering must be concluded by post time. Any bets entered after that time will not be honored. I will now turn the mic over to the pregame coordinator for a description of the coming battle."

A second voice spoke. "Welcome, Gontas! We have a spectacular series of events planned for the coming day. Please get your wagers in early, as when post time arrives, you will be locked out of the wagering! I'll begin with a rundown of the configurations each side has been allowed and the placements they have chosen."