In the Presence of My Enemies (16 page)

   “And who exactly
is
this Army of Light we’ve been hearing rumors of for months?”

   “An assembly of worlds,” Tausan said. “Old allies and new, banded together to stop
the invading forces of our common enemy.”

   “And under whose flag do they sail? Who leads them?”

   “Up until a few days ago,” McDermott said, “the majority of the forces were banded under the umbrella of the Kafaran Alliance. However, several delegates from both the Kafarans and the Unified Council are working together to combine our forces as we speak.”

   “So, the UCS will lead?”

   McDermott looked to Tausan before speaking. “That has not been decided. For now, it is simply a multi-governmental body whose purpose is to—”

   “Yes, I know
: stop the Meltranians using any means at your combined disposal. And where is this meeting currently taking place?”

   McDermott looked to Melissa, who gave the ambassador a slight nod. “At last report, Second Earth.”

   Voula nodded thoughtfully. “And apt location for a peace treaty, considering the context of the planetary devastation during the war.”

   “It just ended up that way,” Shawn said. “It wasn’t planned.”

   “In my experience, Commander, there is no such thing as chance.” Voula then reached into his pocket and withdrew another cigar. Lighting it, he regarded the wide view ports on the far wall. “And your confrontation with the Meltranians? How many ships accounted for your combined efforts? 

   “Our carrier and the Kafarans
’, plus a small number of cruisers and destroyers from both sides.”

   “Against
one
ship?” Voula almost laughed. “You’re not selling yourself well enough, Commander Kestrel. A small fleet against one ship and you took
that
much damage? What possible help do you think Rugor can offer?”

   “Save for Unified Sector Command, you have the largest fleet in Beta Sector,” Melissa said. “That alone makes you an indispensable ally.”

   “I’m afraid your intelligence is a bit outdated, Agent Graves. We have no such forces.”

   “How can that be?” she asked in disbelief. “Just before departing for this mission I received the latest intelligence concerning the Rugorian shipyards at Gioma. Two entire battle fleets are there right now. Over a hundred and fifty ship
s, just waiting to—”

   “
—to wither and die, Agent Graves.”

   “I don’t understand
.”

   “Gioma is a storage facility, nothing more. Those fleets are shadows of a bygone era when we fought alongside our Kafaran allies,” he said, nodding to Tausan but receiving none in return. “We have two others even larger. One fell under the control of the House of Dracton for a short period, which is where they drew their pool of vessels from, but we are in the process of retaking that facility.”

   “They are incapable of getting underway?” McDermott asked.

   “Oh, I’m quite sure most are still functional. Their fusion cores alone have a half-life of three
hundred years, more than enough reserves to power the drive engines and the directed energy weapons for a long time to come.”

   “Then why haven’t you used them to combat the House of Dracton? You could have easily dealt with them using a handful of heavy cruisers.”

   “We cannot simply bombard their strongholds with massive firepower, Agent Graves. There are civilians amongst them, which the Dractons use as live shields. Oh, of course we’ve reactivated a great many patrol ships and smaller blockade runners, but nothing the size of a frigate or larger has been recommissioned. They’re simply . . .
overkill
, as you humans would say. Besides,” Voula said as he pointed his hand at Shawn, “such large-scale fleet movements would alert our Sector Command friends to our internal struggles. That alone is the driving reason why the rebels haven’t used their supply of ships against us.”

   “You need to rethink your strategy about getting those ships going,” Shawn said as he folded his arms across his chest
, “as well as your theory about sentencing your own people to death. If we’re right, and I have no reason to doubt we are, you’re going to need all the manpower and equipment you can get your hands on—and that includes experienced captains like Hast.”

   “Is that right?” Voula asked.

   “Yeah, it is, because those Meltranians are out there right now, and I can tell you with absolute certainty that they don’t give two damns about your little internal struggles. That one ship, the one that gave us so much trouble near Second Earth? Well, there’s three of them now, and they’re heading toward a nice little cozy planet called Osa’Mara in the Damara Valala system.”

   “Say that three times fast,” Trent whispered to Melissa, who gave the
sergeant a none-too-subtle elbow into the ribs.

   The smile on Voula
’s face quickly faded. “Osa’Mara is—was—one of our worlds.”

   “That’s correct,” Melissa said with a nod. “And you relinquished your right to the world as part of your treaty of non-aggression with the Unified Collaboration. USC members settled the world, and when the Outer Rim of planets separated from the UCS, Osa’Mara requested to remain under our protection. There are nearly four
million civilians living in the system.”

   Voula licked his lips, then looked down
at the table. “I’m aware of the statistics, Agent Graves.”

   “That’s right
,” Shawn said. “Farmers. Agriculture. They help feed some of the neighboring planets, even ones that are not direct Unified affiliates. I believe Jurisa is one of those worlds. But then again . . . you already know that, don’t you, Captain?”

   “Jurisa is a small colony world
. . . a satellite for the Rugorian Protectorate. They are . . . far from the home world. We do our best to make sure to supply them with everything they need, but it is strained at times. The conflict with the House of Dracton has left the protectorate low on resources.”

   “And one of the major reasons you don’t want to make waves in the Unified sphere,” McDermott said. “In a small way, we’re feeding your people.”

   “No, Ambassador. There is nothing small about it. But we are a proud people, and not ones to enjoy living off the charity of others.”

   Shawn leaned back in his chair once more. “When the Meltranians arrive, they’re not going to stop at Osa’Mara. They going to wipe out Jurisa as well, and any other system in the region. Then they’ll move on, and guess who’s next on their list?”

   Voula nodded, knowing that the next logical step for the advancing Meltranians would be to invade Rugorian space itself.

   “So you see,” Shawn continued, “we’re not here asking for your help because the Meltranians are knocking on
our
door. We’re here because they’re knocking on
yours
. Your current fleet, even at full strength, won’t last two weeks against them. And when the Meltranian are done with you, they’ll move on to the core world of the Unified Sphere, and by then it’ll be too late for anyone to do a damn thing about it.”

   The room fell silent as Voula regarded Shawn’s words. The captain stroked his chin, occasionally gazing out one of the three large view
ports that lines the starboard wall. Just when it looked as if he were going to speak, the intercom on the far wall echoed a distinctly male voice.

   “Captain Voula?” a voice rang from a speaker far in the overhead.

   Voula stepped to the panel and pressed the single switch. “Yes, what is it?”

   “Bridge here, Captain. We are entering orbit of the
home world.”

   “Understood,” he sighed. “I will return to the bridge shortly.” He then turned to the still
-seated assembly. “I will arrange for a meeting between yourselves and the protectorate leader. Beyond that, I can promise very little. If you will excuse me.” Voula turned and headed for the door, only to be stopped by a word from McDermott.

   “
Fleet Captain Voula?”

   “Yes, Ambassador?”

   “As a fleet commander, you’re words and opinions must carry weight within your leadership.”

   Despite the grim news he’d just been delivered, Voula found himself smiling and looked to Shawn before answering. “Not as much as I’d like at times.”

   “I was curious. How will you convey our mission to the protectorate’s leaders?”

   “Are you asking if your story has convinced me of our mutual predicament?”

   “In a manner of speaking, yes.”

   Voula nodded, averted his eyes toward the view
port one final time and out to the distant stars. “That verdict is . . . unresolved.” And with that he stepped back, allowing the doors to close quietly.

    Shawn looked
at Melissa, then to McDermott. “Ambassador?”

   McDermott sighed heavily, then nodded. “Your performance here today as a negotiator
, Commander Kestrel, was sorely lacking. In fact, it was likely the worst display of political correctness I’ve seen in a long time.”

   “Scott,” Shawn began
humbly, “look, I’m really sorry about—”

   “And quite honestly, under the circumstances, was exactly what we needed.” McDermott said as he turned toward the star
-filled window. “Voula is the captain of his ship, and I suspect that no one here understands that responsibility more so than you.”

   “I suppose not, but it wasn’t—”

   “And no one here understands the Rugorian mindset more so than you, isn’t that right? That’s partially why you were chosen for this mission, after all.”

   “Sure, but that doesn’t mean—”

   “And there’s a 50-50 chance that you may have just saved this mission from complete disaster.”

   Shocked, Shawn blinked hard. “Thank you, Ambassador, but I—”

   McDermott then turned to face Shawn with a stern gaze. “That means there’s an equal chance this whole thing is going to blow up right in our face. And if it does, assuming we survive, I’m going to enjoy taking you to the highest levels of punishment I can go, court-martial and all. So, from here on out, let’s get one thing straight: if you’ve played your cards right then we’re all going to be very,
very
lucky. But the leader of these people will want to speak to a diplomat, not some trigger-happy flight jockey.”

  
Flight jockey?
Melissa knew Shawn was going to hate that.

  
I can’t say I’m impressed with your efforts thus far.
“Things have gotten a little hairy since you got yourself knocked out, Mister Ambassador.”

   That seemed to ruffle the
ambassador’s feathers, but the younger man stopped himself from making an unwise outburst. “Be that as it may, Commander, I am up and fully able to resume my responsibilities and in all conceivable capacities.”

   “Meaning you’re resuming command of this mission?”

   McDermott nodded slowly. “And you would be best advised to remember that.”

   “Then I’ll do my best to stay out of your way.” And he meant every word of it.

“Th
e skin of evil has no one color; the voice has no one pitch. Its origins have no set date, nor was it born in any one particular place or have one ultimate destination in mind. But it has an agenda, it has an unquenchable hunger, and it lives and breathes on the sufferings of others . . . and it must be stopped, even if it’s the last thing we do. Nothing short of the continuation of our very way of life depends upon it.”

—President Ukena Aunzara,

Unified Collaboration of Systems
As stated in his address to the Unified Council on the eve

of the first official battle in the war against the Meltranians.

   “Captain, we’re approaching the inner planets of Damara Valala system,” the
sensor officer called from her station.

   On the bridge of the supercarrier
Duchess of York
, Captain Darian Ramos stared out the long view port ahead of him with mixed emotions. His arms folded loosely across his chest, and with eyes unseen because of the low-tipped brim of his officer’s cap, he nodded solemnly. “Thank you, Lieutenant Dorsey.”

   Ahead of the ship was nothing but the
backdrop of distant stars, punctuated by a long orange-red gas giant far off in the distance directly forward of the carrier. With the combined fleet of Sector Command and Kafaran warships running at flank speed, they would pass the Neptune-sized world in less than an hour. Not long after, however, the fleet would need to slow down to pass through the thinnest layer of the second of two asteroid belts that ringed this system. After that, they would be on to their final destination.

   “What is our ETA to the second asteroid belt?” Ramos asked, his voice thi
ck with a lingering German accent that he was proud to bear.

   The far too young, but very attractive and highly skilled young woman behind the sensor console
, Lieutenant Samantha Dorsey, didn’t need to look at her instruments to give the captain the information. “One hours, sixteen minutes until we reach the point of insertion, sir.”

   “Very good.” Ramos slowly moved closer to the view port, straightening his long tunic in the process. “Flight Control Officer, are our scout teams ready?”

   Lieutenant Commander Weberity, the ship’s operations officer, looked down at the control monitor. The
Duchess
was going to send two scout teams in on different vectors. With their radar not nearly as powerful as the carrier’s, it was hoped that the combined overlapping signals would give the best overall picture of what was going on in the Damara Valala system.

   On his screen,
Weberity called out the designations of the shapes representing four fighters and two early warning craft as they blinked slowly. “Yes, sir. Grim Reapers-Three and -Four are standing by with Ranger-Two. Screwbirds-One and -Three and standing by with Explorer-One.”

   “They should be able to bisect the asteroid field without difficulties,” Ramos said, as much to himself as to the bridge crew. “Launch the patrol wings and make sure they get into their designated vectors as soon as possible. I want to know exactly what we’re going to find in that system before we traverse the belt.”

   “Yes, sir.”

   “
Samantha?” Ramos asked the senior sensor officer, highlighting the informality with which he often addressed his bridge officers. “Are there any signs of Meltranian activity on the sensors?”

   “I’m not picking up anything on the long-range, Captain,” she said while reading the information on her display.

   “Keep the sensors on the widest possible arc and on all frequencies. I don’t want any surprises.”

   “That’s going to task our systems quite a bit, sir. We may lose some resolution, and the range will be greatly affected.”

   Lieutenant Ashlee Kidd, the ship’s acting helmsman sitting to Samantha’s right, leaned over to whisper to her friend. “I know you haven’t had many bridge watches, but I’m pretty sure the captain knows the limits of this equipment, Samantha.”

   Upset that she didn’t realize that mistake until she’d spoken, Samantha felt her face flush in frustration. “I’m just trying to be thorough, Ash.”

   “Is there something I should know about, ladies?” came the reply from between the women. They hadn’t heard Captain Ramos’s silent footsteps as he approached them, and his voice—while calm—startled them both.

   “No, sir,” the two officers replied briskly in unison, then turned back to their duties.

   Captain Ramos grunted softly as his eyes moved from one of the lieutenants to the other. “I see. Well, things are going to get tense once the Meltranians show up. I think it’s best for all hands to maintain a constant awareness of everything that’s happening, but don’t wind yourselves up too tight. Do you both understand what I’m saying?” His voice was ever calm, but firm.

   “Yes, sir,” Ashlee replied smartly.

   “Yes, sir. That is, I think I do,” Samantha said.

   Ashlee fought the urge to smack the palm of her hand against her face in frustrations.
Someday that girl is going to learn, but it isn’t going to be today.
 

   “
Samantha,” Ramos said, his voice soft, “go get yourself a cup of coffee. In fact, take Lieutenant Kidd with you as well. I’ll call up temporary reliefs for you.”

   “But, sir,” Samantha said
, wide-eyed. “I really thought . . . that is . . . I was hoping to be here when we arrive at Osa’Mara.”

   This time, Ashlee didn’t stop her palm from striking her forehead. Fortunately th
e captain’s attention was placed elsewhere.

   “I want my best people manning these consoles if and when we come under attack. And by that, I mean the two of you. There’s no one better qualified. But, having said that, I need you alert and focused. Thousands, if not hundreds of thousands of lives will be hanging on what this fleet does here in the coming hours. Does that make more sense to you now?”

   Samantha, filled with pride over the captain’s words, nodded sharply. “Yes, sir.”

   “Good. Then I expect you both back here within the hour. Mr. Weberity, make sure their reliefs have been paged.”

   “Yes, sir.” 

   As the two women got up to leave, the three
-armed, three-legged Polysaurian communications officer called across the compartment. “Captain, transmission coming in from the Kafaran flagship. It’s Commodore Savath.”

   “Pipe it through to my terminal here, Lieutenant.”

   A moment later, the screen in front of Ramos popped to life with the image of the Kafaran officer. Ramos, much like the rest of his crew, was far from completely adjusted to working with their once-hated enemies, and the sight of the Commodore’s pallid face nearly gave him a start. While the Kafaran officer was technically Ramos’s superior by rank, Savath had eloquently relinquished command of the fleet to Ramos while they operated outside Kafaran space. Regardless, there was still a tradition of protocol that Ramos would follow with regards to a superior officer, and like many traditions, one that Ramos would do so to the letter.

   “Yes, sir?” Ramos said formally.

   “Good day, Captain,” Savath’s voice translator said and the Kafaran nodded. “You are preparing to send out your reconnaissance patrol, I imagine?”

   “That’s correct, sir.”

   “Might I make a suggestion?”

   Ramos had pondered over whether the Kafaran
s would be completely content to relinquish all command responsibilities to their human allies. Now it seemed that Savath was about to answer that. “Of course, Commodore.”

   “I’d like to deploy one of our cruisers and a destroyer to the far side of Osa’Mara.”

   “The reason being?”

   “This is a large system, Captain. Twelve planetoids and two asteroid belts to be precise. It’s possible that Meltranians may attack from any angle. We should be prepared for that.”

   “I understand your caution, Commodore. I’ve thought the same thing myself.”

   Savath’s lips turned upwards in a smirk, a very human gesture that Ramos found both comforting and oddly disquieting on a Kafaran. “I feel there is more you have to say on the matter.”

   “I don’t wish to spread our forces too thin, Commodore. If we come under attack, we will need the combined firepower of all our vessels to thwart the invaders. Moving two starships to the opposite side of Osa’Mara will not only take time now, but will present a problem if we encounter heavy resistance.”

   “I see, Captain,” Savath said with a nod.

   “And,” Ramos added with his own smile, “if you’ll pardon any impertinence on my part, Osa’Mara is a Unified-controlled planet. I don’t want—”

   “—Kafaran vessels operating alone in this system,” Savath finished.

   The thought had crossed Ramos’s mind more than once, but he’d hoped he wouldn’t be placed in a position where he’d have to put voice to it. “The regional government of the planet has been advised of the current status of cooperation existing between the Unified Collaboration and the Kafaran Alliance. However, their response was both cryptic and somewhat hostile. I have no doubts as to the intentions of your crews, Commodore. The same cannot be fully stated for Osa’Mara. The population suffered greatly during the war, and it seems many in the leadership body still hold old grudges very tightly. It would be best for all parties concerned if, when we arrive at the planet, all Kafaran ships are clustered within the Sector Command fleet.”

   “Are we to come under fire from your own people, Captain?” Savath asked hesitantly.

   Ramos had thought of this as well and—had Osa’Mara’s land-based defenses been stronger—felt it a likely possibility. “No, Commodore. I don’t believe so. I would just like to avoid . . . any unnecessary incidents. I’m sure you would do the same to protect us if the situation were reversed.”

   Savath seem to ponder this for a moment. “I’m sure I would, Captain,” the Kafaran
’s voice translator squawked. “It will be as you request, Fleet Captain. Savath out.”

   “A moment, Commodore,” Ramos said, succeeding in stopping the Kafaran from cutting communications.

   “Yes?”

   While diplomacy wasn’t exactly his strong point, Ramos knew how tenuous their current alliance with the Kafaran
s was. Not wanting to make offense, he acted quickly. “Thank you for bringing your concerns to my attention. I’d like you to know that, should you require anything else, I will keep a secure channel open at all times for you.”

   Savath seemed to straighten, and Ramos was unsure if his statement had honored or offended. “Thank you, Captain. I will keep that in mind.”

   “Very good.”

   “And if I may, Captain?”

   “Yes?” Ramos said with an upturned eyebrow.

   “Has there been any word from our diplomatic mission to Rugor?”

   In truth, aside from the Meltranians, that was the paramount thought on Ramos’s mind. “No, sir,” he said with an air of remorsefulness. “Not since their last communication indicating that they’d made it through the final jump gate near Falorin. That was two days ago.”

   “Your tone indicates that you suspect something ominous may have happened to them
.”

   Ramos nodded slowly. “Your perceptions of human emotions impresses me, Commodore. Yes, I fear something has happened to our team. They are long overdue for an update.” 

   Savath grunted softly. “I have never known a finer officer than Colonel Tausan. If there is anything he can do to assure the success of their mission, I have full confidence in him to do so.”

   Captain Ramos nodded in return. “I wish I could say the same for Commander Kestrel. I don’t know him as well as you seem to know the Colonel, but if Admiral Graves’s description of Kestrel are accurate, then I have no doubts as to his own convictions about their endeavor.”

   Savath nodded once again. “I have come to . . .
trust
the admiral, and that is not easily said of any other human I have encountered—present company excepted.”

   “Of course,” Ramos nodded.

   “If the admiral has faith in your people, then so shall I.”

   “I just hope it’s enough, Commodore. If the Meltranians show up, we’re going to give them a hell of a fight, but I don’t know how effective it will be.”

   “I have no doubts you will fight and, if needed, die with honor, Captain. That is all that can be asked of any warrior.”

   Taking the statement as a compliment, Ramos nodded with a smile. “Our patrol team is ready to launch, sir. I will contact you as soon as we get viable telemetry.”

   “Understood, Captain. Savath out.”

* * *

   “Captain,” Samantha spoke loudly, breaking the silent tension on the bridge and startling Ashlee Kidd. “We’re getting something from the long-range sensors!”

   Captain Ramos, who had been staring down at the beautiful blue-green world of Osa’Mara for the last fifteen minutes, quickly turned to face the sensor officer. “Give me a full report.”