Second Earth (26 page)

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Authors: Stephen A. Fender

Tags: #Science Fiction

BOOK: Second Earth
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Melissa, staring at
the obtuse message, refused to turn toward him. “I have no idea.”

  
“Maybe they want us
to open a video channel?” Clifton added. “They’re using a compression stream
that should be strong enough to support it.”

  
“Captain?” Melissa
asked as she turned to Krif.

  
“This is your
show.”

  
Melissa faced
Clifton. “Try and initiate a video link with the Kafarans.” Melissa had never
thought she would utter such words. In truth, they sounded better coming out
than they did in her head.

  
“I’ll see what I
can do, ma’am.” Clifton worked frantically at his controls, trying to match the
signals from the alien ship. He had heard stories in communications school
about this being done before, but had never met anyone who had done it. It was
one thing to talk to a friendly ship, but talking to an alien who had entirely
different frequency bands and ways of processing information was totally
different. When a blurry image began to appear on the big screen, he began to
think it wasn’t going to be as difficult as it had seemed at first.

  
“Looking good,
Lieutenant,” Melissa said, placing a hand on the lieutenant’s shoulder as she
watched the image come in to focus.

  
Clifton gave the
communications equipment a quizzical look. “It’s almost like they’re broadcasting
on our own frequencies. I just need…to clean it up a little.”

  
Krif turned his
attention from Melissa to Commander Hayes. “Let’s have those casualty figures,
Commander. I want to be able to shove the name of every one of our dead pilots
down the Kafarans’ throat.”

  
Caitlin gave him a
look that told Krif she was puzzled by what she saw. “That’s just it, sir. We
sustained no casualties in the last attack.”

  
“What?” Krif’s face
showed his disbelief.

  
Melissa’s heart
soared with the news Shawn was okay, but she didn’t have time to revel in it.

  
The image on the
forward screen went from light to dark and then back again as filter after
filter was applied by the
Rhea
’s
computer to clean up the alien transmission. The form on the screen transitioned
from a deep magenta to a bright blue, then to a black shadowy figure with a
surreal white aura about its form. Clifton sighed heavily, wiped the sweat from
his face, and then began performing minute adjustments to the waveguides that
brought power to the antennas. “I think…I think this should do it, ma’am.”

  
With the a final
sequence of commands entered into the computer, the wavering image completely
faded from the screen, then reappeared as crisp and as clean as if the seated
figure was sitting in the same room with her.

  
There was an
audible gasp from every person in the
Rhea
’s
CIC. Melissa swallowed hard, trying desperately not to faint as she heard
someone—probably Commander Hayes—breathe out the words ‘Oh, my God.”

  
Melissa took
tentative step forward, grasping the side of the communications console to
steady herself as she forced the only word out her mouth that her lips and
tongue could articulate.

  
“Daddy?”

      

Chapter
11

      

  
A
dmiral
William
Graves,
outfitted in the gray and black
accented dress uniform of Sector Command, and standing confidently on the
bridge of a Kafaran warship simultaneously shocked and soothed Melissa as she
stood there, mouth agape. Her father was alive, and seeming in good health,
completely unfazed while the blood enemies of the Unified Collaboration of
Systems, the Kafaran officers and crew of the carrier, deftly moved around him.
Save for his trademark mustache, his face was clean shaven, and peppered
silvery hair was neatly combed back across his scalp. For all outward
appearances, he looked exactly as he had the last time Melissa had seen him on
Thress, and not at all like a prisoner of war.

  
“Melissa,” he
started with a look of surprise, “it’s good to see you. I had…no idea I would
be addressing you. I thought I’d be communicating with Captain Krif.”

  
Richard stepped
down from the upper level of CIC and approached Melissa from behind. He stood
over her shoulder, the shock of seeing Graves on the Kafaran ship having
rendered him utterly speechless. After a moment, he mustered up a handful of
words, though not without difficulty.

  
“I’m here,
Admiral.”

  
William nodded
approvingly. “Very good. That’s as it should be. Tell me, why am I addressing
my daughter and not you, Captain?”

  
Krif was still in
shock, evidenced by a stammer that had suddenly gripped his vocal abilities.
“Well, sir, we had…no idea it would be
you
on the other side of the channel. Your daughter…I mean, Agent Graves, has more
experience negotiating with enemies of the UCS than I do.”

  
William again
nodded slowly. “I see. Yes. That was a…wise precaution, Captain. Completely
understandable. However, the term ‘enemy’ hasn’t been applied to the Kafaran
for some time.”

  
Melissa decided
without hesitation that someone needed to say the obvious. “Father, how long
have you been a prisoner?”

  
Graves licked his
lips, cast his eyes momentarily to the deck, and then looked back to his
daughter. “I’m not a prisoner, my dear.”

  
Krif moved from
behind Melissa to stand at her side. “But they
are
holding you against your will, correct?”

  
“Not exactly,
Captain. We can discuss it later. I’m afraid that, right now, we don’t have much
time. As you’ve seen, the Kafaran destroyers have taken out the enemy’s
fighters. Now, I need you—”

  
Krif was quick to
cut him off. “With all due respect,
sir
,
I’m going to need an explanation. You’re telling me that you’re standing on the
bridge of a Kafaran heavy carrier, you’re
not
a prisoner, and they are
not
holding
you against your will?”

  
Graves shook his
head. “The situation is much more complicated than what you are presupposing,
Captain. However, I understand that this looks…questionable.”

  
“Questionable,
sir?” Richard spat. “On the contrary, it
looks
like you’re aiding a known enemy of the UCS. To me, it looks very much like
treason!”

  
Melissa turned
quickly to face off against Krif. “Captain Krif! That’s my father over there.
He’s one of Sector Command’s most highly decorated officers. How dare you—”

  
Krif paid her no
mind as he kept his eyes locked on the admiral. “I’m waiting for an
explanation, sir.”

  
Graves swept his
hands quickly in front of him, as if dismissing Krif’s argument entirely. “We
don’t have time for that, Captain. You must listen to me!”

  
“I’m listening,
sir. You’re just not telling me what I want to hear.”

  
“Damn it, Krif! I
thought you would’ve changed in your years, perhaps becoming more receptive in
your role as a respected leader. I can see now that I was mistaken.”

  
“I’m still waiting
for an explanation, sir. If you have one, that is. Otherwise, my accusations
stand, and will be so noted in my official log.”

  
“Any explanation I
could give you would be useless at this time, Captain.” There was a bustle of
movement at William’s side. A chatter of noises could be heard over the
Rhea
’s speakers, and whatever it was
pulled William’s attention from Krif. He nodded several times to an unseen
being, then turned his attention back to the view screen. “We’re moving into
attack position now. We’ll be in range in less than a minute.”

  
Krif let out a
snort. “Less than a minute? You know as well as I do that your weapons couldn’t
touch the
Rhea
at that range. Besides,
the second those beams leave that Kafaran carrier you’ll be charged with
defecting to the side of a
known
enemy.”

  
“No, you idiot!”
William belted, his thick cheeks shaking under the weight of his frustration.
“We’re not going to fire on
you
!
We’re going to fire on the Meltranians.”

  
“The who?” Melissa
asked in confusion. “You mean the intruder?”

  
“Yes,” Graves
replied, his voice softening at the sound of his beloved daughter. “They’re
called Meltranians. They’re invaders from the far side of Kafaran space.
Suffice it to say, they’re big, they’re vicious, and they absolutely do
not
negotiate. Period! You’ve already
lost one destroyer to them, Captain Krif. Don’t be a fool and lose another one,
or more. Your pilots are out there right now, in direct line of fire from one
of their cruisers. It’s imperative that we attempt to stop them now before
reinforcements arrive.”

  
Krif scoffed at the
image. “Assuming for a second that I believe you, what am I supposed to do?”

  
“Maneuver your
ships closer to us.”

  
“Move my ship
closer to a Kafaran carrier?” he asked in disdain. “Have you lost your senses?
I’m not coming within a thousand miles of those Kafaran ships, and you can bet
your life on that!”

  
“If you don’t move
soon you’ll all be killed!” William’s voice was near frantic. “Please believe
me, Captain. You have no other choice in this matter.”

  
“And what are
you
going to do, Admiral? What can three
Kafaran junk heaps do to that thing? You saw what those…those
Meltranians
did to the
Agincourt
.”

  
From somewhere
behind the admiral, Krif and Melissa could hear another series of audible
grunts and clicks. Krif may not have known what it was, but Melissa recognized
it as the Kafaran language. While she couldn’t make out the words, it was
obvious that someone on the Kafaran carrier was displeased with Krif’s remark.
Melissa watched as her father held out a calm, steady hand, silencing whichever
Kafaran was speaking.
Probably the
commander of the flotilla,
she thought
.

  
William’s eyes
bored into Krif’s. “The Kafarans have devised a special shielding against the
Meltranian weapon, but it only lasts for a few shots. Considering it takes the
Meltranian about five minutes to recharge between shots, we may be able to
mount an offensive that will, at best, disable the cruiser long enough for you
to escape.”

  
“Shielding?” Krif
spat. “What kind?”

  
“Captain, we don’t
have time to discuss technical matters! Get your ships, your crew, and my
daughter to safety
now
or so help me,
if the Meltranians don’t kill you, I will!”

  
There was a fire
behind William’s eyes. Richard had seen it more than a few times, often
directed at junior officers, and a handful of times when it was focused at
himself. Whatever the admiral was planning, he meant business. Regardless, Krif
knew there was no way he could escape his current predicament under his own
power. With most of the fighter wing destroyed, the carrier was little more
than a floating city of unemployed, highly skilled technicians and maintenance
workers. It would make an easy target, especially if something were to befall
their remaining cover, the destroyer
Breckenridge
.
The carrier
Duchess of York
and her
escorts were two days away. Still, there was a chance Krif might be able to
keep his people alive until then, but he knew of only one way to do it.

  
He would have to
destroy everything in the area, starting with the intruder, and including the
Kafaran if they got in his way. If, as the admiral was suggesting, the Kafaran
were here to help, then it behooved Krif to play along—for the time being. When
it came time for him to take drastic measures against them, he knew without
hesitation he would take the opportunity to do so, regardless of whether
William Graves was aiding them or not.

  
Krif straightened
his uniform before speaking. “What are you proposing, sir?”

  
William, relieved
that Krif was starting to come around, gave a slight smile. “Turn toward our
flank and get behind us as quickly as possible. We’ll try to shield you as best
we can.”

  
“What are you going
to do, Father?” Melissa asked.

  
“The only thing we
can do, my dear. We’re going to attack the Meltranians head-on. It’s the only
way to protect you from their fire. If their isotonic cannon is pointed at us,
it won’t be pointed at you.”

  
Isotonic?
“But you’ll be killed!” she
screamed frantically.

  
“Please, Agent
Graves,” William said, using Melissa’s title to grab her attention. “Calm down.
I told you, the Kafarans have special shielding against the weapon. They’ve
been at war with Meltranians a lot longer than they were with us, and they have
learned how to protect themselves, albeit in a limited capacity. Suffice it to
say, we’ll be able to stay in the fight longer than you possibly could, and
we’ll give them a battle they won’t forget.”

  
“What about our
fighters?” Krif asked, referring to the pilots he already had out in space.

  
“Yes,” William said
thoughtfully as he contemplated the question. “Melissa, I can only assume that,
since you’re there, you managed to convince Shawn Kestrel to help you.”

  
Melissa smiled at
the mention of Shawn’s name. “I have, sir.”

  
Now there was an
obvious smile on William’s face. “Excellent. Is he there with you?”

  
“No, sir,” Krif
snorted. “Not currently, anyway.”

  
That was a string
of sounds to Graves’ right, which caused the admiral to turn and look away from
the screen momentarily. “He’s in one of the fighters, is he?” Graves asked as
he returned his gaze to Richard.

  
Krif nodded. “He
is.”

  
William nodded
sharply. “Captain Krif, that piece of information is going to help our current
situation tenfold.”

  
“Lieutenant
Commander Kestrel has been placed in temporary command of the fighter wing,”
Melissa added with obvious pride.

  
“I wouldn’t want it
any other way, Melissa,” William replied. “Captain Krif, have him maintain his
current position until I call for him. With any luck, we can damage the
isotonic cannon before it can get off any more shots, and we won’t require the
service of the fighters. The armor around the weapons barrel is extremely thick,
as you can imagine, so it will take several well-placed hits to knock it out.
If the combined fire from our capital ships can’t do it, however, we will need
to call in the space wing for assistance. Again, we cannot sustain multiple
impacts from that cannon, and we can’t afford to let that Meltranian ship
escape. It must be completely destroyed, or it will call for reinforcements
that none of us will be able to cope with. They are like cockroaches, Captain,
and this sector could be crawling with them within a matter of hours.
Understood?”

  
Krif nodded slowly.
“Yes, sir. I’ll inform the Commander now.”

  
Graves looked once
again off to the side of the screen, presumably at whatever being was speaking
to him. He turned back a moment later to face Krif. “Captain, we are within
firing range now. Get behind us quickly while we draw their attention. Godspeed
to you all. Admiral Graves out.”

  
The image of Graves
winked off the viewer, leaving every last officer and specialist in CIC in
stunned silence.

  
Melissa turned to
Krif, waiting for what was to come next. Would he follow her father’s
instructions, or would he fight a losing battle against the Meltranians on his
own?

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