A Faded Star (11 page)

 “Very well. Is it your opinion that it is safe to make
a longer jump, Miss Simmons?”

 “Yes, sir, but I recommend we not jump more than
another few light weeks. That will allow us to determine if this is a system
error or if something else effecting the system that we can begin to predict.”

 “Very well. Mister Kri, plot a six light week jump
towards Buckman's Star.”

 “Aye sir.” The orders were passed once again. Once the
drive had spooled up to maximum power, the ship maneuvered through her jump
ring. The ship arrived exactly where she was supposed to be and in the correct
orientation. No one could determine an explanation for what had happened.
Eventually, Stokes made the decision to press on despite this minor issue. The
ship made four more jumps, one six light months followed by a nearly three
light year and finally two maximum range jumps to place the Rampart on the
outskirts of the Buckman's Star system. All of the subsequent point to point
transits were performed flawlessly. To call Buckman's Star a system was a bit
of a misnomer. The star, a dying red giant, was surrounded by a massive
asteroid belt so broad it was nearly a system of rings around the star itself.
The nebula lurking on the edge of the system was composed almost entirely of
hydrogen, helium, and some trace noble gasses.

 The ship had very limited ability to determine what
was going on in the system. Some kind of passive interference was blinding all
but the sublight sensors which had an extremely limited range.

 “Looks like we will have to push in slowly on the
sublight engines, sir,” Kri said. “The density and prevalence of asteroids
around this star is rather astonishing. It's a wonder they didn't reform into
planets as happened at Lashmere.”

 “Agreed, Mister Kri,” Stokes said. “I hope Linis is
doing better than we are. This is going to take weeks to search the asteroids
for that signal.

 Linis Hanlon was not doing so well, as it turned out.
She had spent the entire trip from Lashmere to the alliance base disagreeing
with Admiral Drogue about combat effectiveness, resource allocation and the
usefulness of alliance ship designs. Drogue had taken the position of advising
the alliance to rebuild their entire fleet with better utilization of their
technology. Hanlon believed they should make the best of what they had and
allow the alliance ships to be improved as new ships were built. They met in a
small conference room half an hour before meeting with the alliance commander
to present their recommendations for fleet deployment.

 “Admiral, no matter what we say, the alliance doesn't
have the manufacturing capacity and especially not the material resources to
rebuild their entire fleet.”

 “They do if they scrap the fleet they have now,
captain. The decommissioning could be performed in stages and updated ships
built from the raw materials salvaged from their older ships.” The idea was
vintage Drogue. He had used similar strategies during the Ebrim-Karn war. Often
he had played large risks off against decisive advantages. Building the Rampart
had been his idea, the final step in a long-range plan to completely pacify the
Karn people that, thankfully, had never been needed.

 Hanlon shook her head, making the same argument she
had made before, albeit slightly modified. “Sir, we can just develop new
resources without further weakening the alliance fleet positions. We can also
take resources from the crabs from their defeated ships. If we strike in
strategically unimportant locations where the crabs have left some of their
materials, we can salvage their materials to build new alliance ships. The
secondary benefit would be the potential gain of intelligence from captured
equipment and data systems. As hard as the alliance is being pressed now, they
can hardly afford to take ships off of their battle lines.”

 “The alliance needs to develop a force that can be
projected,” Drogue thumped his fist into his palm to emphasize his point.
“Hitting strategically unimportant areas is just picking off the low hanging
fruit. It also exposes our forces to unknown situations for gains that are
marginal at best. A purely defense strategy is ultimately a losing strategy.
They are trying to be strong everywhere instead of changing the focus of the
enemy from attacking the alliance to defending themselves. If the alliance
can't take the offensive, they'll be annihilated in the next six months at the
rate they're going. Your plan may be better in the long run, but they don't
have the time to carry it out.”

 “So what we need is a way to slow the crabs down in
order to implement new ship designs.”

 “It would be helpful if the alliance had been less
circumspect with their explanation of why they are at war.” the admiral said.

 “I'm beginning to suspect they don't actually know why
the crabs began attacking them. Understanding their motives would give us quite
an advantage. Maybe that's why they have been playing a purely defensive
strategy. They don't know where the next attack is coming from.”

 “That's true of all war, captain. I do agree, however,
it would be a huge advantage to know the reasons behind their 'sudden and
inexplicable aggression and resource exploitation' as that alliance commander
said. What was his name?” The admiral arched an eyebrow speculatively at his
executive officer.

 Linis rolled her eyes. “Oh, I don't think we can
pronounce it, sir. I just kept calling him commander and hoped it translated
the way we wanted it to.”

 Drogue chuckled. “I had the same idea.” The admiral
grew silent for a moment. Suddenly his eyes brightened, and he looked at Hanlon
with a ghost of a smile on his lips. “What about a series of raids? We take one
location, strip it bare to create an offensive force then send it out on a
series of raids to force the crabs off balance and to capture raw materials and
resources at the same time. No recapture of territory, just go in, blast them
into oblivion, take what we need and retreat.”

 “It certainly has the advantage of being unexpected.
The alliance commander would never do such a thing. What about targets?”

 Drogue said, “We have to limit ourselves to targets we
can concentrate overwhelming force against. Go in, decimate the crab forces,
snap up the salvage with one of their cargo and manufacturing ships and get out
before reinforcements can be called in.” Drogue leaned back in his chair with a
smug expression on his face. “It should accomplish both of our goals. Give us
additional resources and additional time as well. With any luck, the crabs may
start seeing the alliance as a less soft target and look for ways around their
remaining borders.”

 “The only issue I see is convincing the alliance
commander to go along with our plan. I'm beginning to wonder if any of their
military understands how bad the defensive strategy they have been following really
is.”

 The pair talked it over quietly for another few
minutes when the conversation was cut short by the door opening. The alliance
commander, a Xalcek, like Thun, entered.

 “Good morning, Admiral, Captain. I have with me the
other alliance commanders.” He motioned, and a short, wide creature entered.
Hanlon watched as it shuffled slowly on short, round legs. Her eyes traveled up
the gray utilitarian uniform all alliance military personnel wore. The torso
was also short and round, topped by a complex shoulder structure supporting
four arms. Hanlon realized with a start the slit just below the head must be
the mouth. The head was elliptical in shape and had four eyes arranged on the
front in a diamond shape. All of the exposed skin was electric blue. “This is
Ithi, the Unam commander.”

 Hanlon and Drogue had been provided dossiers on all
the alliance species that included example imagery of each race, but seeing
such an alien creature in the flesh was remarkably unsettling for Hanlon.

 The commander motioned again. In walked what had to be
a Yaderiedea. He, Hanlon defaulted to male pronouns to each one until she was
able to determine a more appropriate term, was tall, more than two meters,
bipedal with two arms and rough gray skin and a long, drooping, snout like face
with binocular eyes.

 “This is Howrrl, the Yaderiedea commander.”

 Behind Howrrl, another alien walked in. He was
spindly, with an overly large head that made Hanlon think of an infant of her
own species, roughly human shaped with a prehensile tail that swished back and
forth. “This is Ip, the Hontoata commander. The last of us is Ufsr. He is a
Gol.” The Gol commander was easily the most fearsome looking. The Gol's serpent
like body measured nearly four meters from his head to the tip of his tail. His
upright torso had two arms and a head that was quite reptilian with large,
toothy mouth, obviously evolved for the purposes of ripping prey animals apart.

 Hanlon watched the group enter and wondered how a
group of species who had obviously mostly evolved from carnivore predator races
had evolved a communal culture that had not continued the pattern of violent
conflict so common to human beings.

 As the group of disparate aliens seated themselves at
the remaining chairs in their various ways, the Xalcek commander addressed the
humans. “I am pleased to find you here. We have been preparing for this meeting
by reviewing our combined combat reports from all battles so far with the-” the
commander made a series of whistles and clicks, the assemblage of sounds the
crabs used to identify themselves, ”-and we have a number of ideas on how to
improve the survival rate of our forces.”

 Admiral Drogue leaned back in his chair. His attitude
of complete relaxation made Hanlon think he was intentionally trying to lull
the alliance leadership into believing he didn't take the situation very
seriously. She waited for him to take control of the meeting. However, Drogue
had other plans.

 “Very well, commander. I look forward to hearing your
ideas. Before the strategic briefing, I am curious about your command
structure. You refer to everyone as commander, which in our military is a
specific rank. Do you have a way of differentiating levels of authority within
your ranks?”

 “We do, Admiral. We use the term commander to refer to
something that would probably translate better as leader in your language. Each
ember race of the alliance is represented by a single military leader. This
group makes up the ultimate military authority. Among the commanders, I am
acknowledged as the leader. Membership in the military is otherwise regulated
only by the intelligence and aptitude standards all races must meet.”

 “I see. Thank you for answering my question.” Drogue
said.

 “Gladly, Admiral. Are you ready to hear our ideas on
the tactical situation now?”

 “Please share them with us,” Drogue said.

 The commander paused while he scrolled through
accumulated information on his tablet. “We have learned the enemy is gathering
a force to attack our forward tactical base in the Ithilki system. Forces have
been dispatched to supplement the ships already stationed there to enact a
defense. It also appears we may be facing an attack near our third most
populated system.” The commander stopped speaking and tapped the tablet,
causing a large display to activate. Both systems were displayed. “What is your
opinion, Admiral Drogue?”

 Drogue looked the displayed data over carefully for a
few minutes before responding. “Can you show me where the crabs are massing
their forces?”

 “Yes, of course.” The commander gestured on his tablet
for a moment, and the display added a third display with marked crab formations
in an unnamed planetary system.

 “Commander... Would you please repeat your name. I
fear it may be unpronounceable by human vocal capabilities.”

 The commander huffed in what Hanlon assumed was
laughter and then said something that was, indeed, not something she would have
tried to replicate.

 “Ah, would it be acceptable if I referred to you as
Ktenu?”

 “It is not the exact pronunciation, but I will answer
to it, Admiral,” the commander said.

 “Thank you, Commander Ktenu. I see a number of issues
and possibilities just with the information displayed here. Before I delve into
that, would you mind if I ask you a question?”

 “Please proceed, admiral.”

 “Have you ever considered assembling an offensive
force to attack the crab forces?”

 “We are not the aggressors here, Admiral, and I would
appreciate you not implying we are again. These... crabs as you call them are
the ones attacking. We are merely defending ourselves against their unjustified
and immoral actions.”

 Drogue looked at Hanlon. His eyes were wide with
disbelief. Hanlon was shocked. The idea that they were defending themselves was
one thing, but to refuse to take the offensive once hostilities had begun was
an entirely different matter.

 Hanlon spoke. “Commander Ktenu, is it never
permissible to attack a force once it has already made it clear it has hostile
intentions?”

 Ktenu looked uncomfortable, his expression remarkably
human seeming. “Your question implies we are willing participants in the
hostile actions the... crabs... are taking against us.”

 “I apologize, commander. That is not my intention at
all. Perhaps I could rephrase my question. Has the alliance ever taken an
offensive action in an effort to defeat an enemy rather than waiting for the
enemy to come to them?”

 “Ah, I believe I understand your question now.” The
commander paused for a long moment before answering. When he did, his eyes took
on a curiously intent light. “At the founding of our alliance, we banded
together to defend ourselves against an enemy so fearsome we had no choice but
to take just such an action. The result was so devastating to our enemy that
all the peoples of the alliance vowed never again to take an aggressive action
unless it was in direct defense of an ongoing action by an enemy. Our society
has held this belief for so long it has become an ingrained part of our
identity. Although it is possible for us to recognize the advantage of 'taking
an offensive action' as you put it, we cannot truly contemplate it and maintain
our moral identity.”