Torian Reclamation 3: Test of Fortitude (27 page)

That’s when they all heard the ship. Its noise suddenly became loud. The three of them spun around simultaneously. Jumper reached out and parted the bushes so they could see.

“Extat!” Alan said. “It’s almost above us! Must have come right over the mountaintop. We should make for those rocks.”

“Let’s go,” Kayla said. There was authority in her voice and she didn’t wait for a vote. She and Casanova ran up the rest of the brush line and ducked under the protrusion. Alan and Jumper followed. They rolled into the natural concave just as the hover ship came overhead.

The alien ship then proceeded down the mountain, hovered in place, and landed on the canyon floor below them. But only for a few minutes before it lifted up again and headed eastward back down the canyon.

“That was close,” Alan said. “I just realized I’m thirsty. Pull the canteen out , Jumper.”

“Yeah,” Kayla said. “Me too.”

Jumper took a swig of water before handing Alan the canteen. Alan took a long drink and then gave it to Kayla. Alan noticed Jumper eyeing her with a concerned look. In a moment, he found out why. Kayla then held the canteen over Casanova’s mouth and gave him a long drink.

Jumper jerked his head. “That was the last of our water. Except for a small container of the heavy mineral stuff.”

Kayla didn’t apologize. “He needs it, Jumper. As much as we do. Probably more.”

“Quiet,” Alan said.

Kayla and Jumper both frowned at him. Alan pointed down the slope where the alien ship had briefly landed.

“I thought I heard voices.”

The three of them were silent for a few minutes.

“I don’t hear anything,” Jumper finally said.

“We didn’t hear the ship coming, either,” Kayla said as she handed Jumper back the canteen. “But Alan did. He has super hearing or something today.”

Jumper sadly shook the canteen and said, “Let’s see if we can get around these rocks. If there are more aliens on the ground, we can’t hide here and wait for them to find us. We’re only a third of the way up, and the terrain only gets rougher from here.”

“Your second ITF2 is loaded and leaving now.” Brandon held the O-tube against his cheek as he spoke. “What’s it look like from your view, General?”

“I don’t have time to give you minute-by-minute updates, Brandon Foss. When the firing starts, you’ll see it from your position. I’ll thank you to just complete your task.”

“Of course, General. We’re ready for your third vessel. Send it over.”

“It isn’t here yet,” Islog8 radioed back. “It’s with the rest of our fleet. They’re all due any minute. Send the second ship out. I’ll let you know when she’s here. Assuming we have time to dock and arm her.”

“We better make time, General. The smart mines are too important not to deploy.”

“When I want advice on generaling I’ll let you know, Earthling. Until then, please stay off this channel.”

Brandon knew Islog8 was right, about both things. Brandon shouldn’t be telling the fleet commander how to fight a battle, and he could see what was happening well enough from his own viewing screen despite being in the rear of the fleet. He currently had it magnified and was watching the Dirg defensive position with interest. They kept shifting. Several squadrons had made bluffing runs at the enemy, but retreated before engaging. It was apparently a diversion to hold their attention while the rest of their forces rearranged themselves.

Brandon didn’t understand the point of the Dirg positional shifts, unless it was to keep the enemy from devising an optimal attack plan against their larger warships. After several such movements, the Dirgs appeared to be back the way they were first arranged, only with more numbers. Maybe they just wanted to keep them guessing.

“Scale back the main screen,” Brandon said. “I want more of an overview.”

“Scaling back,” Milon4 replied. The picture reduced in magnification several times.

“Is that good, Commander?”

“Yes, thanks.”

As Brandon took in a larger view of the scene, he began to question whether there was really going to be a major battle today. This was more of a standoff. He couldn’t envision either side taking the first shot. There was no evident advantage. He remembered something from Sun Tzu’s book,
The Art of War,
which one of his old sales managers on Earth had compelled him to read. When two armies were equally matched, with no side having a clear edge, the wise general was to keep regrouping until a perceived advantage was obtained.

Did the enemy have wise generals? From what Brandon had seen of them before, it seemed likely. They were difficult to discourage once in action, yes. But they had yet to engage in a situation where it didn’t seem they had an advantage in firepower or technology.

That wasn’t the current situation. Reduced to basics, there were three sides on the proposed battlefield, and it was the enemy who was flanked both ways. They probably wouldn’t stay there, whether a battle erupted or not. But Dirg would. They were in a defensive position, protecting their homes. Tora was opposite of them, with the enemy to their right facing forward towards …towards nothing but empty space. Suddenly, the formation looked incomplete to Brandon. Was the enemy waiting for something on the open side? Brandon felt a chill on the back of his neck.

The captain spoke. “Commander, new vessels arriving on the port side!”

Brandon turned to the left screen. Large ships surrounded by yellow-lit rings began materializing in the open space. But the ships weren’t dark, and the dag drives didn’t vanish when they cooled. The dag units were especially large.

“The rest of our fleet!” Milon4 said.

“No,” Brandon said. “It’s Azaar.”

Brandon’s flight crew looked dumfounded. Everyone watched as a dozen Azaarian transport ships that had just dagged in opened their hangar doors and began launching fighters. Then, another dozen appeared next to them, and then another dozen on the other side. Then more behind them. Brandon brought the O-tube to his face and pressed the speak button.

“General, the ships dagging in on our port are Azaarian. Repeat. This is Azaar arriving and launching fighters to the left of our position.”

“Yes, we see them!” But something in Islog8’s voice told Brandon he hadn’t really seen them—or at least didn’t yet know who they were—until Brandon just told him.

“Extat!” Islog8 continued. “We’re being flanked! This is what they’ve been waiting for. Brandon, stand ready to launch your ITF2 on my orders.”

“Yes, General.” Brandon had the captain put a call to the ITF2 crew to board and prepare for deployment.

“Commander,” Milon4 said. But the general’s voice spoke on the O-tube again at the same time.

“Hold that order! Get my other ITF2 loaded first! I’m sending her right over.”

Brandon turned to the rear screen. The space behind was lighting up with more ships appearing—but most of these were Torian.

Brandon shook his head. “This is what you wanted to tell me, Milon4?”

“Yes, Commander. Torian ships coming out of distortion drive to our rear.”

“Not only to our rear,” Brandon said. “To our left as well. This is astounding.”

They watched as the rest of the Torian fleet dagged in behind and slightly to their left. At the same time, and a little farther to their left, more and more Azaarian ships kept dagging in. There wasn’t a lot of space between the Azaarian and Torian newcomers. Occasionally, a Torian ship would appear in with the Azaarians, or vice versa, and move out to join their own side as soon as they saw what was happening around them. Some ships came in at a non-conforming angle, above or below the formations, and adjusted to join the fleets’ existing pose. Hundreds more fighters filled the surrounding space as the newly arrived transport ships hurried to launch everything they were carrying. Surely there had never been a sight like this in the history of the known galaxy.

A squadron of ITF1’s swooped by in the small corridor between the blooming Torian and Azaarian forces. They turned as they flew, streaked across to the front of the entire Torian position, then dove and circled back under it. The site of them quelled some of Brandon’s anxiousness.

“What do you want to do about our position?” the captain asked.

Brandon cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

“It was my understanding the general wanted your ship in a safely-removed location while loading mines on the ITF2’s. That’s no longer the case. We’re right along the Azaarian front now, about as close as you can get.”

Brandon realized he was right.

Milon4 spoke. “The final ITF2 is approaching, Commander. Requesting docking.”

“Give it to them, Milon4. Open the hangars and receive them.”

Brandon turned back to the captain. “We stay put, Captain. For now, anyway.”

Time dragged again as the third ITF2 was received and then stocked with the final battery of smart mines. Brandon’s assigned ITF2 was already loaded with them. Shortly, all would be readily available for action. The Torian command would then hopefully figure out an effective way to use them.

The scene in space outside continued to be chaotic. The Torian and Azaarian reinforcements kept arriving, launching fighters, and establishing positions.

Brandon focused on the Azaarian ships. What were they doing here? Brandon had accused them of being in league with the enemy just a few days ago. Did he really believe the accusation when he made it? He couldn’t remember now. He did, however, remember his last words to the Azaarian general.

Brandon held the O-tube back to his face.

“General, there’s some chance the Azaarians are friendly.”

Islog8 was quick to respond. “Then what in Erob are they doing on my flank, and why aren’t they replying to our hails? They have every appearance of being hostile. Aren’t you the one who accused them of this very enemy alliance? Isn’t this what Olut6 suspected? I’m not too proud to admit you two were right. How’s my final ITF2 coming?”

“She’ll be ready in a few minutes, General. But listen to me. There’s something I didn’t tell you about my meeting with the Azaarian general. I promised we would give them the chance to turn to the right side, and would not consider them an enemy before they fired their first shot at us.”

“You what?”

“It may be a small chance, General, but the chance is there. It’s possible they haven’t made up their minds yet and could turn to help us if they think our side can win. It’s important we don’t engage them first. Tell all your commanders to let them take the first shot. In the meantime, we need to get one of the ITF2’s over to the dark enemy position and capture the target identity for the mines.”

There was an uncomfortably long pause before the general responded.

“Just finish loading my bird and get her launched, Earthling. I’m sure as extat not leaving my left flank exposed! My ITF2’s are staying on the Azaarian front. If you want the dark enemy’s target identity, you can take your craft over to their position and get it yourself. Let’s see if you have any of that fancy flying left you were known for in your youth.”

Milon4 spoke again. “The last ITF2 is loaded and ready to launch, Commander. You want to launch both?”

Brandon thought for a second.

“No. Send the general’s craft out only. Tell our crew to stand by.”

“Yes, Commander. Depressurizing the hangar now.”

Brandon raised the O-tube again.

“General, we’re launching your bird now. You’ve got three in space, fully armed. My unit will be deployed shortly and is at your service. But you’re making a mistake if you fire upon the Azaarians before we see what they’ll do—”

“Then our business is over, Brandon—unless you’re ready to turn the rest of your fighters over to me. Or you can go home and report to the High General. I don’t really care. Turn off your O-tube. We’re done here.”

“General, please! Listen to me for a minute!”

Complete silence.

“General?”

“He turned off his receiver,” Milon4 said. “I can patch you through to the secure channel on his bridge if you like.”

“No,” Brandon said. “He’s being stubborn. I just need to explain to him…” Brandon watched the general’s last ITF2 leave the hangar.

He then turned his attention back to the Azaarians. No more ships could be seen dagging in, but twenty or so were still launching fighters. Their entire armed forces appeared to have come. But something about their position seemed noncommittal to Brandon. Was it really possible they might turn? Or was Brandon fooling himself with wishful thinking? Could that wishful thinking be dangerous to Tora and Dirg?

“Contact the general’s bridge with an open hail, Milon4.”

“An open hail, Commander?”

“Correct. Hail them on an open frequency. Do it now.”

“You’re in charge. They’re not going to like this.”

“I know. Do it anyway.” Brandon came down to Milon4’s station.

“We’re connected,” Milon4 said. “You can speak into this port.”

Brandon leaned down. “Command ship, this is Brandon Foss the Earthling. The Azaarian motives are unknown. Do not engage them until their intentions are made clear.”

A few seconds passed, and then the general’s angry voice could be heard crackling back.