Chaotic Futures, page 20
“Perhaps, a little premature,” Quanitine whispered quietly to Eshtitor, which everyone heard.
Eshtitor shrugged. He wanted to remain hopeful.
Frieda had slipped into the pilot’s seat to concentrate.
Cyan snapped off the plan holo-vid. “I must support Frieda to learn the Krackus language,” she told the Dwerves. “There’s good news. Frieda has complete control of the ship.”
As Eshtitor sat deep in his seat, he breathed a deep sigh of relief.
“One hurdle down,” Quanitine said, patting Eshtitor’s hand.
The Dwerves sat quietly, while waiting for the sisters to return.
Aboard the peacekeeper, the bridge crew kept an eye on their databases, reporting to Doktorg as they were rapidly scanned.
“Why such an intense investigation?” Khartagh queried of Doktorg. “The SADE is jumping back and forth between files.”
“Are you sure it’s only one SADE?” Doktorg inquired.
“Now that you ask, no. It might be two,” Khartagh clarified.
“I’m an idiot,” Doktorg exclaimed, which made the officers nervous. “These individuals might have been stranded for a while. It’s possible that they don’t know our language.”
Khartagh raced to a panel and examined the nature of the files that the visitors were copying. “You’re correct, Imperator,” he said respectfully. “They’re comparing audio recordings to the text versions.”
“When they’re finished, they’ll be ready to speak to us,” Doktorg said confidently.
By the time the first-duty rotation had absorbed small snacks and drinks, Doktorg’s comms panel chimed. He accepted the call and heard,
“Greetings,” Doktorg replied. “To whom am I speaking?”
“The warship imperator?” Doktorg queried expectantly.
Via Cyan, Eshtitor said, “This is Captain Eshtitor. I command the Dwerve ship.”
“I can understand you perfectly,” Doktorg replied in amazement.
“Actually, you understand our translators,” Eshtitor responded. “Without them, you and I would be pantomiming and probably making huge errors in judgment.”
When Cyan heard the imperator gurgling, she shared with Eshtitor that the ship’s captain was laughing. Then she told him about the unusual cargo manifests.
However, Eshtitor had to satisfy his curiosity first. “I engaged several fleets comprising ships like yours,” he said. “As time passed, I was sure that someone was learning about my ship and my tactics. Would you know that person?”
“Then you did find my gifts along the frontier,” Doktorg said. “They would be the hull plates with your transponders.”
“That would be one instance,” Eshtitor admitted.
“I’d like to know how you knew our programmed battleship would accelerate after the last group of missiles was launched,” Doktorg inquired.
“I suspected that it might, but I must give credit to my weapons officer,” Eshtitor said. “He bracketed the ship.”
“We met again at the Monforth system, where there was so much loss of life,” Doktorg lamented.
“Your ship was in the scouting position. That’s why my weapons officer missed you,” Eshtitor surmised.
“Yes,” Doktorg said.
“Now you arrive here with a ship full of raw materials,” Eshtitor said. “Are you on your way to help some of your kind, and you stopped when you saw my ship?”
“I thought that you could use them,” Doktorg replied. “And now that I see a stranded conclave traveler, I think others could use these materials.”
“Your shuttle is called a traveler and is beam capable, correct?” Doktorg inquired.
“I think the discussion won’t be short, could we talk face to face?” Doktorg inquired.
Doktorg regarded the expectant faces of his bridge crew and said, “Apparently, we’re about to have guests.”
“I imagine that we’ve nothing to do to assist them,” Khartagh said.
“A bay has signaled the crew to evacuate,” an officer reported.
Doktorg offered a hand toward the officer, as if to say the bridge crew’s assistance wasn’t required.
When Khartagh saw Doktorg glance at his command panel to know which bay was being accessed, he tapped his first officer’s shoulder. “You have the bridge,” he said. “Remember to touch nothing.”
The first officer thought that had to be the strangest directive he’d ever received.
Then Khartagh hurried after Doktorg. He wasn’t about to miss out on this historical moment.
The moment that the bay was pressurized, Doktorg and Khartagh made their way through the airlock. They were present to watch their guests exit the shuttle.
“Look at that hull,” Khartagh whispered awestruck.
The Krackus were an old race, who had subdued thousands of races. Therefore, they were prepared for three of the passengers who navigated the hatch’s steep steps. It was the two nearly identical females who were new to them.
Frieda stepped forward and introduced the others and herself. Doktorg did the same for Khartagh and himself.
“Please, come this way,” Doktorg requested. Khartagh and he heard Cyan speak to the Dwerves, and the pair was reminded of the constant requirement for translation that the sisters would provide.
On the way to the uppermost deck, Khartagh said, “Imperator Doktorg said that after you had overtaken our ship’s systems that you needed time to learn our language. Was that the reason for the delay?”
“Yes,” Frieda replied. “We hadn’t encountered your kind before now.”
“Then you’ve been out here for a while,” Khartagh surmised.
“Time is irrelevant for us,” Frieda replied. “It’s important for digital sentients to remain engaged, and the Woots have provided that for us.”
“What kind of race are they?” Doktorg asked.
“On the individual level, they’re wonderful,” Bedoah gushed, which Cyan translated. “It’s the rulers, called dresats, who are pains in the posterior.”
Doktorg gurgled. “Those at the top tend to be that way,” he added.
When everyone was seated, Eshtitor said, “You wanted privacy for this conversation. It would seem that you have specific intentions. We need to hear them.”
“I wouldn’t say that I had a well-defined plan,” Doktorg pushed back. “But I had an idea. So, I made preparations in the event that my assumptions were correct.”
“What were your assumptions?” Eshtitor pressed.
“I thought you’d find a way to save your ship,” Doktorg replied. “When I saw you take a specific course before entering the dark, I knew you were headed for some place you’d been before.”
Frieda chose not to regard Eshtitor. They’d already had that conversation, and he knew what she thought of his return.
“What else?” Eshtitor inquired.
“If you could save your ship, then you would have a huge challenge to repair it,” Doktorg replied, and he gestured wide with his arms to indicate everything the peacekeeper carried.
“You would not be out here without your leaders’ permission,” Quanitine said. “What are your orders?”
Doktorg eyed Quanitine quietly for a few seconds while he considered who was speaking. It was obvious that she had a relationship with the captain, which meant he should be careful to respect her questions.
“The executors, who rule the Imperium Empire, would have ordered fleet commanders to search for you and ensure you were destroyed,” Doktorg replied. “They have families and I don’t. So, I volunteered to take a single ship and search for you.”
“And destroy us, if necessary,” Quanitine concluded.
Doktorg nodded in agreement.
“But you came with precious supplies for repairs,” Bedoah pointed out. “If your leaders find out that you helped us, what will happen to you?”
“The imperator can’t go home again,” Cyan replied.
Doktorg shrugged his shoulders, as if that was a natural conclusion. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Khartagh stare open-beaked at him.
“How will the return of your crew be explained?” Quanitine asked.
Doktorg gurgled again, and he pointed a finger toward the sisters.
The action gave Khartagh the answer as to how he and the crew could return without suffering the assembly’s anger. “We could do nothing,” he said, adding his own shrug. “The alien warship was allied with the conclave.”
The guests combined laughter had Krackus crests rising straight up in celebration.
“Even though there is but a single traveler?” Bedoah queried.
“An unnecessary detail that shouldn’t concern the executors,” Khartagh replied, warming to the moment when he might be called before the assembly to report. “The instance that I mention the conclave, their concerns will be about the invaders on the opposite side of the empire from where they were first seen.”
“Does the conclave possess tri-hulls with smooth hulls like the travelers?” Eshtitor inquired.
“They do, and they’re deadly,” Doktorg replied.
“We encountered them,” Eshtitor explained. “They exited from an unusual energy source. We faced each other for a while, and then I retreated.”
“Smart move,” Doktorg commented. “Krackus call the conclave invaders, but their ships never seem to initiate the attack.”
“What does the conclave want?” Quanitine asked.
“To remodel the empire,” Khartagh replied. He appeared embarrassed to have said that.
“Do you think that’s a bad thing?” Quanitine inquired, as she was unable to understand his reaction.
Khartagh seemed reluctant to continue, but Doktorg had no problem stating how he felt. “I’ve learned from those superiors whom I trust that the empire’s expansion is headed for trouble. We’ve suborned thousands of races, but they can’t supply enough to keep Krackus home worlds supplied. Worse, we use mercenaries to subdue the races. They enjoy combat, and innumerable citizens have paid the ultimate price for running afoul of them.”
“Those individuals in the images with edged weapons,” Quanitine noted to Eshtitor.
“So, you think the conclave should remodel the empire,” Eshtitor surmised.
“I think it doesn’t matter what I want,” Doktorg replied. “I believe the conclave will eventually succeed. According to the superiors I mentioned, that organization has extensive experience with this kind of thing — dismantling dictatorial territories.”
“Then the conclave probably has multiple races,” Bedoah suggested excitedly.
“More than the Krackus empire has probably seen,” Frieda remarked.
Eshtitor’s eyes widened, and he regarded Doktorg, who twitched his crest, as if to acknowledge the captain’s thought.
Frieda and Cyan attempted to surmise what had passed between the imperator and the captain.
“Under what conditions are you willing to share the material aboard your peacekeeper?” Frieda asked.
“That’s up to the two of you,” Doktorg replied, indicating Eshtitor and Frieda.
“Explain,” Frieda requested.
“The two of you can have all the extraneous material I’ve loaded,” Doktorg replied. “Then you can determine its use.”
“How do I explain the absence of what we loaded when I return?” Khartagh asked worriedly.
“You don’t,” Doktorg replied. “I gained access to these supplies directly from the governor. The executors won’t have been informed of what our ship carried. Before I leave, I’ll inform the crew of the necessity of keeping certain things quiet for their well-being.”
“Are you intending to request that you live with us?” Quanitine asked.
“It would be temporary. Wouldn’t it?” Eshtitor interjected.
“Yes. I’ve another traitor whom I wish to join. His name is Korvath. He saw the truth long before I did,” Doktorg replied.
“What is the truth?” Bedoah asked.
“That those who seek to dominate others will eventually fail,” Doktorg replied. “It’s only a matter of time.”
“Where is Korvath now?” Eshtitor asked.
“He’s either with the admiral or the protectors,” Doktorg replied. “Don’t ask me for details. I’ve only heard these terms discussed by others. However, I’ve a final destination for your ship.”
“The conclave,” Eshtitor surmised.
“I think they would help you settle your citizens,” Doktorg responded. “I imagine that you might have to give up your warship, but that wouldn’t be my decision.”
Eshtitor regarded Frieda, who said, “The manifest is extensive. Nearly every metal and chemical that we’ve found lacking is here aboard the peacekeeper.”
“Enough to do both jobs?” Eshtitor asked.
“Enough to give us more options than we had before,” Frieda replied.
Eshtitor nodded, and Frieda said, “Imperator, we accept your generous gift.”
Extending a furry hand across the table to Doktorg, Eshtitor said, “Welcome aboard.”
Doktorg felt strong fingers encircle his delicate hand, but he needn’t have been concerned. The captain was careful with him.
“With your permission, Imperator, I’ll sail your ship to the Woots’ moon,” Frieda said.
“Of course,” Doktorg replied, as if he had a choice.
The group could hear the thrum of powerful engines as they came online.
“I’d better go calm the bridge officers,” Khartagh said, making a quick exit from the stateroom.
“It’s a unique feature of the sisters,” Eshtitor explained. “It takes some time to accept.”
“Do conclave races have a similar capability?” Doktorg asked.
“Yes,” Cyan replied. “They adopt implants, which allow thoughts to be shared. The implants can also handle numerous apps. If Korvath has spent any time with the conclave, then, by now, he’s already adopted one.”
“Wonderful,” Doktorg replied, with a gleam in his eyes.
Frieda guided the peacekeeper toward the Woot moon.
As Bedoah didn’t have an opportunity to see the peacekeepers at the orbital construction platform, Khartagh toured the diminutive tech for two cycles. They were accompanied by Cyan for translations.
With Bedoah’s personality, she quickly made friends with the crew. When Khartagh returned to his duties, Bedoah and Cyan continued to talk to the crew members.
Afterward, Bedoah said to Cyan, “They’re a lot like me. They’re trained to do a job, and they execute it to the best of their abilities. But they haven’t a clue about the bigger picture. That’s sad.”
“Are you unhappy about your previous life aboard your ship?” Cyan asked.
“Not unhappy, because I didn’t know any better,” Bedoah mused. “I think our leaders should have worked to help us understand our circumstances. Then we’d have been better prepared to voice our opinions about important things.”
“Do you think you should do something about the other Dwerves?” Cyan asked.
Bedoah eyed Cyan. Then she chuckled and stuck a finger against Cyan’s shoulder. “You’re a crafty digital sentient,” she said, which made Cyan laugh.
“Well?” Cyan pressed.
Bedoah considered the question. “Once your eyes are open, it’s hard to close them, isn’t it?” she queried.
“The sisters could tell you a story about that,” Cyan replied, thinking of their own history.
“I think it’s something I need to talk about with —” Bedoah had paused, because she had been about to say the captain. However, after reconsidering that thought, she said, “Quanitine.”
“A wise choice,” Cyan said. “She thinks in more original directions, which benefits the captain.”
Many cycles later, the peacekeeper held station off the Dwerve ship. Shuttles and the traveler were continuously filled and emptied. The Krackus shuttles used their attitude jets to maneuver across the intervening space, while the traveler quickly entered a bay. It made two trips to any one executed by a peacekeeper shuttle.
When the work was done, Doktorg addressed his crew. He carefully laid out their story and the reason for it. Then he put Khartagh and his bridge officers in charge of rehearsing the crew.
Doktorg’s final words were, “You must not be afraid to condemn me as a traitor who asked the conclave members for sanctuary. You can offer your own reasons for it. I thank each and every one of you for your trust in choosing to sail with me. Declinator Khartagh will see you home safely.”
As Doktorg left the bridge for the traveler, his route was lined with crew members on each side of the corridor. They held their salute as he passed. By the time he reached the bay deck where the traveler waited, his orbs were moist and tears threatened to run.
Cyan, Bedoah, and Eshtitor waited for Doktorg.
“Your courage is exemplary, Imperator,” Eshtitor said, as Cyan sealed the hatch.
“I don’t feel courageous,” Doktorg replied.
“Alex Racine, our progenitor, believed that biologicals who act in that manner rarely do,” Cyan added.
