Counterstrike (Black Fleet Trilogy, Book 3) (5 page)

The “flight” out of Terran space was short and uneventful, as there was no discernible sense of travel while in the Vruahn ship. As Jackson explored the bit that the computer allowed him to see it became obvious to him that very little of the interior, meant to imitate a human ship, was actually functional. It was just a veneer that seemed to have little effect on the ship itself. The more he thought about it, the more confused and disturbed he became by what he was finding. In turn, this led him to be more guarded and cautious about what he said around Colonel Blake.

“We just arrived in one of the Boundary Systems,” Blake said as he read off his displays. “This is where we’ve always come to make direct contact with our Vruahn liaisons. The second planet in this system even has a settlement where we can go to relax and interact between deployments.”

“Interesting,” Jackson said neutrally. “Is that where I’ll meet with whomever requested this get together?”

“Most likely,” Blake nodded. “Just to give you some warning, you’ll be talking to a surrogate, not an actual Vruahn. To be honest, we don’t even know what they really look like. They appear to us in a form that is an attempt to look ‘human’ but it can be a bit … unsettling.”

“It can’t be any more unsettling than some of the Phage forms we’ve seen,” Jackson shrugged. “Why do they bother using a remote form like that?”

“I assume they feel we’d be too disturbed by their appearance,” Blake said. “Or it could be as simple as they’re unable to exist in an environment suited to us. I’ve never received a direct answer to the question, really.”

The pair fell into an uncomfortable silence as the ship drifted further into the system. Jackson tried to manipulate one of his own terminals to display how far away they’d traveled from New Sierra, but the computer seemed unwilling to give him the information. Just as he was about to ask Colonel Blake for the distance they’d ‘hopped,’ a short alert sounded and data began scrolling quickly across the displays. The colonel was visibly shocked.

“What?”

“This is highly unusual, but it looks like the Vruahn came in person to talk to you,” Blake said. “One of their cruisers just appeared in the system and I’m being ordered to dock with it directly.”

“Do they come here often?” Jackson asked.

“This is the first time I’ve seen one of their ships in this system other than the ones we pilot ourselves,” Blake shook his head. “I’m sorry, Captain, but I have nothing to offer you as far as what to expect. This is a bit beyond any interaction I’ve ever had with them.”

“Aren’t I always the lucky one?” Jackson sighed.

****

The docking procedure was as anticlimactic as everything else aboard Colonel Blake’s ship. One minute they were drifting in space, the next the computer piped up and told them they’d achieved hard dock with the Vruahn cruiser. Not even a bump like you’d get on a Terran fleet carrier when a cargo shuttle slammed into an airlock.

“Captain Wolfe is requested at the port, aft airlock,” the computer said.

“Will the colonel be joining me?” Jackson climbed out of his seat.

“No, Captain,” the computer intoned. “You are the only human requested at this time.”

****

Jackson found himself in a white, sterile room that had no discernible angles, corners or even light source. Even the form-fitting chair he sat in was made of that same nondescript material and seemed to meld seamlessly into the floor. He’d been sitting there for what seemed like hours, but the lack of any sensory input could have been playing games with his internal clock. For all he knew he’d only been there for ten minutes.

After what could have been another few minutes, or another hour, a second chair flowed up out of the floor facing across from him, hardening into a shape nearly identical to the one he sat in. While mildly impressed at the casual implementation of what would have been an incredibly exotic and expensive material in the Confederacy, Jackson was beginning to feel the first twinges of real annoyance at how he was being treated. Just when he felt he could take no more the wall across from him slid apart slightly and a bipedal … something … slipped in through the seam before it resealed itself. Not sure what the protocol was, Jackson stood and waited respectfully while the being walked further into the room.

“Senior Captain Jackson Wolfe of Earth,” the androgynous face said without a trace of emotion. “Thank you for coming at our request.”

“Thank you for making it sound like I had a choice,” Jackson said, sitting only when the other being in the room did. Since no physical greeting was offered, Jackson kept his hands at his side and tried to calm himself down.

“There is always a choice, Captain,” the being said. “In everything we do, or don’t do, even the most mundane choices we make cause ripples that affect everything around us.”

“So you’re a construct meant to communicate with me on behalf of the Vruahn?” Jackson said. “Why such an elaborate system?”

“You are correct in a way,” the being said. “This body is an artificial construct, but you are interacting directly with me in real-time. You may call me Setsi.”

“And my second question?”

“These protocols were established when we began encountering fledgling species taking their first tentative steps into the vastness of the universe,” Setsi said. “Unpredictable reactions from both the species being contacted as well as the various microbes we all invariably carry led us to develop ways to minimize the physical and psychological impacts on those we may chance upon.”

“Sensible, if a bit inexplicable once communications have been normalized,” Jackson said. “So … why am I here?”

“There’s no single answer to your question,” Setsi said.

“I was led to believe you were interested in me because of a possibility the Phage had directly contacted me,” Jackson said. “Am I incorrect in that?”

“That is indeed the reason why we asked to see you, but it is not the only reason you are here.”

“Whose reasons are we referring to?” Jackson asked.

“Very good, Captain,” Setsi’s mouth turned up at the corners in a fair imitation of a smile. “What is it you hope to accomplish by this meeting? Would you really risk such a long trip just to provide a bit of information to someone you’d never met?”

“I want a way to stop the Phage.” Jackson put all his cards on the table.

“Have we not already provided that?” Setsi asked. “Colonel Blake’s force arrived just in time to save one of your planets, did they not?”

“And they also arrived far too late for a handful of others,” Jackson countered. “Millions of lives lost. There’s also nothing to prevent them from returning with a force so large that even Blake’s squadron would be overwhelmed.”

“A fair point,” Setsi said. “But let me divert the conversation for a bit. When you say you wish to ‘stop’ the
Phage,
as you call them, what is it you’re really saying?”

“Ideally I’d like a weapon of such scope and power that it would keep the Phage from attacking another human planet ever again, but we both know that’s impossible,” Jackson said. “So that leaves me with one alternative … I want to eradicate the Phage presence from our surrounding space and hit back so hard that they never venture near us again.”

“You would declare a war of genocide on an entire species as recompense for the loss of less than five percent of your species’ total population?” Setsi asked coldly, the previously dead eyes now glimmering.

“I will do what I must to keep the other ninety-five percent safe,” Jackson said hotly. “As a matter of philosophy I see no difference in the loss of one life or millions. An unprovoked attack on our species cannot stand without a response.”

“So what if I offered to assist you in eliminating an equal number of Phage lives, or even a proportionate number?” Setsi asked calmly.

Jackson could tell he was being prodded, tested for specific responses. He had no doubt that the Vruahn had built a fairly accurate predictive model on human behavior given their long interactions with an observation group as large as Blake’s crew.

“Allow me to deviate slightly at this point,” Jackson said, wanting to exert some control over the conversation. “Why bother with the human crews at all? I find it difficult to believe that they offer anything that a well-designed piece of software can’t duplicate after some trial and error. The fact the ships in Colonel Blake’s squadron are crewed is a bit of a mystery to me.”

“We certainly tried,” Setsi said. “In the future we may do exactly as you say, but it was Colonel Blake and his group that taught us the fundamentals of warfare. For now we’re content to keep a working system in place.”

“I doubt that’s it,” Jackson said.

“You doubt?” Setsi actually frowned. Jackson wondered if the human analog was so complete even facial expressions were translated as he doubted the Vruahn themselves actually frowned.

“I do,” Jackson pressed. “Colonel Blake is from a time where wars were fought within the atmosphere of a single planet against opponents of the same species. He has zero frame of reference when it comes to fighting in space with starships, much less going up against something as utterly alien as the Phage. I refuse to believe that he’s been able to develop such effective strategies in a vacuum and apply them so successfully.”

“So then, Captain,” Setsi said, the mouth a hard, thin line. “Why do
you
think we’ve allowed Colonel Blake the opportunity to serve as he has?”

“You have me at a disadvantage, I’ll admit,” Jackson said. “I’ve only had this one interaction with your species, and it’s not even direct communication, so my assumptions are skewed by a certain bias … but I think you’ve left your rescued humans in those ships as a firewall. You develop weapons of incredible power, but in the end it’s the human who decides to press the button. It’s the morality of the human that decides if a living, intelligent being dies. I beg your forgiveness if I’m wrong, but from where I sit … Blake’s crew allows you to keep a clear conscience while still getting a job done that, despite your revulsion, needs to be done.”

“You’ve dared to come here and accuse us of … using … your primitive race as some sort of attack animal?” Setsi’s expression was again unreadable.

“I’m simply offering an outlook based on my limited observations and experience,” Jackson said. He’d not actually meant to come all this way and insult the Vruahn. “But if I’m so out of line answer me this one question: when you discovered that ship full of dead humans and decided to revive the ones you could, why did you keep them here? Why didn’t you simply take them back home if your intentions were as magnanimous as you claim?”

“The usefulness of this conversation has run its course, I believe,” Setsi stood. “You will be escorted back to Colonel Blake’s ship and we will call upon you if needed.”

“I understand,” Jackson said with a nod. “I sincerely apologize if I’ve given any offense.”

Setsi simply stared at him with its cold, dead eyes before turning and exiting the way it came.

“I feel like that could have gone better,” Jackson mumbled.

****

“How did it go, Captain?” Colonel Blake asked as Jackson walked into the ship’s small officer’s mess.

“I think very badly,” Jackson said honestly.

“How so?” Blake seemed very concerned. “Were they unhappy with your explanation about the Phage message?”

“We never actually got to that,” Jackson admitted. “Tell me, Colonel … why did you never bother to return to Earth once you were revived?”

“Like I said, so much time had passed none of us felt like we’d really recognize the place anyway,” Blake frowned. “It was better to stay out here and help those that needed it than try to piece together a life that no longer existed back home. Why are you asking about this, Captain?”

“Idle curiosity,” Jackson lied. “Setsi and I had talked briefly about your initial revival.”

“I see,” Blake turned back to his meal. “There were a few of us that wanted to just head back home. Well, most of us did, if I’m honest. But in the end we decided to remain a crew and they left the choice up to me. When I saw how much destruction the Phage were causing, I decided we’d be of better use staying with the Vruahn and trying to help.”

“What did you guys call them back then?” Jackson changed the subject after seeing Blake’s obvious discomfort.

“The Vruahn never gave us a term for them that we could ever hope to pronounce,” Blake said. “We actually were calling them ‘cockroaches’ for the longest time since one of the original forms we faced had an uncanny resemblance to the bug. Imagine a cockroach two-thirds the size of an Alpha.”

“No thanks,” Jackson shuddered. “But it does make me wish CENTCOM Science and Research had come up with more clever names than just going down the alphabet.”

They ate a rushed meal before going their separate ways. Blake was heading back to the flight deck to try and make contact with the rest of his squadron and Jackson, although fascinated by the possibility of real time coms over a distance of lightyears, was just too exhausted after his conversation with Setsi. He was asleep before the lights had even fully dimmed and as such was a bit shocked and disoriented when the computer woke him up after what seemed like only a few minutes of rest.