COMMANDER

I took a list of names for recipients of subspace transceivers up to Doc Hazel. She was frazzled, worn out like the rest of us.

“I’ll try to get more of them produced later tonight, JD. Medical is swamped with injured and detailed autopsies of dead Torbor. We want to get as detailed an analysis of these creatures as possible. What makes them work and how best to either keep them alive or kill them, as the case requires.”

I heard the words of the captain in her last phrase. Obviously, the last part went deeply against her grain but it was necessary and she knew it. She had assigned a subordinate and the Medical AI to help me produce the new “training” vids.

“Does the Medical AI have to be the one to produce the transceivers?” I queried. “Can’t we send the specs to the fabricators?”

“Yes to the first, and no to the last. The units are highly complex and need to be synced to brainwaves of the individual. Only a medical unit can do that. Is there anything else?”

My next stop was the bridge to see the captain who had given me time for a detailed update.

“Come in, Commander Rawlings.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

While I poured coffee, the captain arranged a display on the holo-vid over the conference table desktop. I sat while he spoke.

The plan for the space battle had gone fairly well, although there had been a couple of surprises. The Rontar had jumped out, then back in, and had wound up just under a thousand meters from the Torbor ship and actually inside their shield event surface. It had worked both for us and against us.

Our fighters had launched immediately and raced to begin locking onto enemy weapons ports and to damage but not destroy their launch bays. Torbor defenses, though, were nearly instantaneous. Many of our fighters were taken out by massively powerful lasers in only moments. The only thing which saved any of the remainder was the Grafnal cannon as it destroyed their primary power couplings in a matter of seconds.

Numerous ports, previously invisible, opened in the sides of the Torbor ship and small, exceedingly fast ships flooded out, maneuvering through space like flocks of birds in open skies. The weapons on these small craft were not very powerful but there were so many of them! The cumulative effects of the smaller hits were essentially the same as single hits by much larger weapons. Coupled with the small size and their speed and maneuvering capabilities, they were hard to target and hit.

What worked in our favor in this part of the battle was the shielding on the smaller craft was extremely weak. We dropped them in masses while our ship’s weapons worked to damage the small launch ports to plug the holes, in effect.

The battle had gone on much longer than anticipated. The hull of the Torbor ship was of the same dense metal they appeared to use in abundance, and the Grafnal cannon was not as effective as hoped. It was effective, all right, but took much longer to cut through the hull and cause damage internally than had been projected. The difference was measured in seconds but it was a major contributor to the length of the battle when all of the launch bay and weapons targets were totaled.

The other thing taking us completely by surprise was the sudden appearance of the space-suited Torbor troops inside the Rontar. Dotes and his team conjectured they must have some sort of matter-transference device and were able to materialize those troops inside the Rontar because we were inside their shields.

The Rontar had taken serious damage from the yellow mass/energy weapons. Three teams of ten Torbor had appeared; one team in the hangar bay, one in the fighter hold, and one in the fabricator hold. Fortunately, the Navy had reprogrammed many of the robots originally created for repair work to become anti-boarder weapons. Each was slaved to the ship AI and armed with 5TW lasers. Over a hundred of these units had been deployed throughout the interior of the ship to cover our critical systems. With these precautions, Captain Lewellyn had prevented certain disaster. While damage had been done, the Torbor teams had been eliminated quickly. Only one fabricator had been damaged and shut down.

The fighter hold had been another story. The yellow bolts crashed through fighter after fighter, going through them like a meteorite through an unshielded ship. The denser the material hit by the bolts, the more energy was drained from the bolt. Lightly hulled fighters without active shields were tissue paper to them. Ninety percent losses occurred in the fighter hold. We were down to two heavy fighters and three light fighters. The only good news was the production of the Wasp drones was progressing above expectation, and we had nearly fifty of them operational.

The Torbor ship was heavily damaged. It was estimated the full crew numbered near one thousand, with only one-quarter of them remaining. Power inside the ship was down to ten percent of what it had been, and life support remained in only a few areas. The primary hanger bay was damaged but usable. Nearly every weapon had been damaged to uselessness or destroyed completely.

“They are tenacious and aggressive little bastards,” the captain said as he finished his briefing.

I nodded. “We had to kill ninety percent to capture what few we did on the surface, as well. Thank the Gods Above they didn’t have the same technology there they had up here.”

“Speaking of which, did I tell you the prisoners left on the planet have been executed as enemies of the state?” Lewellyn asked.

“No! My, my, for a non-violent race, the Hanosians seem to be learning quickly.”

“Yes, they do. The new government wanted to both make a statement and establish themselves quickly, especially after those horrible vids we shared with them. I am told planet-wide opinion polls show an eighty-five percent approval. Apparently, the Hanosians only needed the right leadership to shake off the mantle of subservience. Over so many generations of Torbor and Shaquaree threat and manipulation, they had become beaten, hopeless. When we appeared and showed them the aliens could be fought and killed, their independence resurged.”

“Well, they are human, Captain.”

“Quite! And, by the way, I am told the leadership council has decided the vids will not be shared with the populace. Instead, they will use them only for select members of their government and security forces.”

“I think that is a huge mistake, Captain.”

“It is their decision, not ours,” he replied forcefully.

“I know. But for a brand new government, supposedly for the people, here they are already beginning to keep secrets from the people!”

“Regardless,” he replied firmly, “it is their decision. We have no right to interfere. They must do what they feel is best for their people, just as we do with our own.”

“On that subject, I have an idea I would like to propose, Captain Lewellyn,” I said after a moment of silence, and feeling it was best to change the subject. “Since we are here, and to our knowledge the last of the Fleet, we should consider rebuilding. We do not know if, how, or when we might be able to return to our own time, and we cannot continue to lose personnel in battle. One of the Hanosians asked me if she could join the Marines, and after some thought I don’t think it is a bad idea.”

“Do you realize what you are proposing, JD?”

“Yes, I do. Andreas, I am down to half-strength in the clan. You must be down to one-quarter! We simply cannot continue like this, patches here and sealant there. We need to rebuild our personnel as well as our hardware. If we are truly the last of the Fleet, then, why not? Why not think big? Why not start anew? Sure as hell, the threat is not going to go away! We have a friendly government, we have a planet full of people. We could set up recruitment and training facilities dirtside. We have simulators, we have AIs, and we have all the training programs in archives. We have everything we need to start building!”

“What you are proposing will drag this society too quickly into new technology,” he argued.

“Under other circumstances I would agree completely, Andreas, but these people already know about technology. They were advanced at one point and regressed. And, they have already been exposed to alien advanced tech. To deny them might just be criminal!”

Lewellyn was thoughtful for several moments.

“Give me a moment, will you?” he finally asked.

“Certainly, Captain.”

He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes. He remained there for several minutes, actually. I got up and poured more coffee.

When he opened his eyes again and sat forward, he smiled thinly.

“The doctor agrees with your proposal, JD, as does my senior staff. Very well, you have my agreement, also. I will propose this idea to the government and let you know their response.”

“Thank you, Captain. What about our plans here for repair and refit of the Rontar, and the study of the Torbor ship? And, what shall we do about our Torbor prisoners?”

His face clouded instantly. Not a happy subject.

“Commander Dotes has set up a translation program, basing off of the Shaquaree language which, obviously, the Torbor know. With the prisoners and the ship, and what we can learn from translating their written language, we should learn enough to verbally communicate with them quite quickly. My thoughts on the prisoners are to determine which of them may be officers and to separate those officers from the crew to deny leadership. I . . . I must admit to having problems with progressing beyond that point. The alternatives are few, and none are palatable to an officer grounded in Navy doctrine.”

“I understand, sir.”

I did understand. Even after seeing the vids of the Torbor and Shaquaree, he was struggling with the moral training ship’s officers received in the Navy. Navy personnel would fight like hell, try to destroy the enemy just as the enemy fought to destroy them. But as soon as the enemy signaled any kind of surrender or request for truce, they were trained to respond with alacrity and with the highest possible morality and forgiveness. After all, the troops they fought were only soldiers, doing their jobs as assigned by other governments. We Marines got much of the same kind of training, though we had more latitude in how we interpreted “morality.”

This kind of scenario had to be tearing him apart, psychologically.

“Actually, since the prisoners were taken in space battle commanded by you, they are technically Navy prisoners. By normal doctrine, though, they would be remanded to the clan contingent for disposition. Correct, Captain?”

“Remanded to the Marines for guarding, not in responsibility!” His eyes narrowed and became flinty. “Are you attempting to relieve me of my responsibility, Commander?”

“No, Captain. I have too much respect for you to try that. I am proposing, as the new Fleet, we think in new ways and let go of doctrine and dogma which make no sense in our new reality and create our own doctrine.”

“Specifics, Commander?”

“Separate the officers as stated. Interview the prisoners for those most knowledgeable in their systems and technology, and those willing to cooperate, then space the rest. Make them earn their lives.”

“Bluntly put, Commander.” He sighed deeply. “I must have time to consider this.”

“Where are the prisoners now, Captain?”

“In the main hold of their ship. We are keeping them contained with robot guards.”

“I would recommend placing them on a smaller ship and placing the ship in orbit with all engines and communications gear disabled or destroyed. Leave them life support only. They would be contained safely and require less actual guarding, and it keeps them off of their own ship where they may find a way to do mischief.”

“And makes it easier to ‘take care of them’ when the time comes, eh, Commander?” the captain finished, a hard edge to his voice. “Give me some time, sir,” he finished in a growl.

I nodded and rose. This had to be extremely difficult for him. As the Navy Fleet, there were always alternatives for handling prisoners. Usually, this meant transferring them via shuttles back to some actual prison or holding facility where the legal arm of the Fleet would take control and responsibility for the prisoners. Someone else, a judge or a jury, or a tribunal, would decide the fate of prisoners and enact the results of their decision. The captains and crews of the Navy war ships would carry on with their business. Here, though, there were no others to take the prisoners. It was Lewellyn’s responsibility and no one else’s.

“One last thing, Commander. I intend to take the Rontar back out to the gas giant. I intend to move the alien ship out there, as well, if we can figure out how to navigate it.”

“Not to belabor a point, Captain, but, if you let me handle the prisoners I will have it moving before you know it.”

He just waved at me, a pained look on his face. I took the hint and left the bridge. It was a full day later when he commed me and asked me to meet him in the Ready Room with my officers. Jenkins, Flynn, and Donner followed me into the conference room where the captain and his commanders waited with the doctor. Once we were all greeted and seated, the captain spoke.

“Rontar AI, record. Doctor and officers, we are gathered here to conduct the first acknowledged meeting of the leadership of the new Earth Fleet. Commander Rawlings and I, as well as some of my own officers, have had conversations wherein we discussed the possibility of beginning to rebuild our depleted forces by opening recruitment to the Hanosian people and providing training as we were once trained into the Fleet and Marine military forces.

“It is the agenda of this meeting to discuss this premise and to arrive at an official decision. Is there any discussion, please?”

The nine of us looked around at each other for a minute before the doctor finally spoke.

“I don’t think there is much choice, Captain. We are all so short-staffed we can barely keep this ship adequately operational, much less try to man and operate an alien ship, or even study their technology effectively. I know every single one of my medical staff have been re-assigned,” she raised her hands defensively, “and I understand completely. But still, I simply cannot keep up a hospital by myself.”

“I agree,” said Cmdr. Dotes. “There is an absolute wealth of technology which could really provide us with major advantages, if we could study it! Even if we take new recruits, how could we train them in time to get any real work done to help us? Yet, it is the only real alternative we have.”

“Is there any dissenting opinion?” asked the captain.

Several seconds of silence went by.

“Any at all?”

“Very well. The consensus of this meeting is that we open military recruitment to Hanosians and begin a training program in the best traditions of our own training. Of course, this recruitment and training idea will have to be offered as voluntary only, and the government has to accept the idea and support it. Does anyone have any objections to these two strictures?”

“I think those premises were taken for granted, Captain. I certainly would not want anybody who was not one hundred percent voluntary,” I responded.

The meeting adjourned less than five minutes later. The captain motioned to me to remain as the others filed out. When we were alone, he sat again with a deep sigh of resignation.

“It is with the utmost regret, Commander Rawlings, I find I must agree with your assessment of our situation concerning the Torbor prisoners. I do not mean I find agreement with you regrettable, sir, rather, the situation is untenable with my former acceptance of principles like honor and integrity. Those principles do, upon reflection, remain intact, it is the methods by which we carry out and demonstrate those principles which must change. It is that bridge which I am, ah, having difficulty in crossing. I have entered orders for the Torbor prisoners to be remanded to the custody and responsibility of the Marines. They are yours, Commander. Do what you must.”

Gods Above! How such an admission, both to himself and to me, must have cost him! He was unable to coordinate the psychological and emotional gymnastics necessary to order the mass executions of the enemy, while yet knowing we had no way of keeping them all alive indefinitely, and no reason to do so. And every reason to execute them all!

I had to admire his strength of will to make the decision and the admission.

“Your conscience can be clear, Captain, in the knowledge that whatever I do will be in the best interest of the human race.”

All three of my lieutenants volunteered, and they told me in no uncertain terms any trooper in the clan would be proud to take the required action. I refused them, with my thanks and gratitude, but I refused them. I would ask no trooper to do anything I was unwilling to do, nor would I allow any trooper to enter into a situation of unnecessary potential risk which could be avoided by my action.

I was standing in the airlock of the shuttle holding the Torbor prisoners. We had cracked enough of their language to be able to communicate with them. The inner hatch opened and I entered with my escort of three troopers armed to the teeth in their suits. I had only my handmade katana. Flynn, Vickers and Donner had threatened mutiny if I refused their company. Gross insubordination, I know, but how could I deny them? Harlan hadn’t joined with them vocally but he had stood there all flinty-eyed and grim and hadn’t so much as twitched an eye, which meant he was just as guilty as they were. What could I do? Toss them all in the brig? What I did was the only reasonable action available to me. I surrendered gratefully.

I looked around at the Torbor prisoners. They stared at me with their obsidian eyes, defiant sounds emanating from their throats. I located the one I was searching for, pointed at it, and spoke.

“You! Yes, you with the four devices on your harness. Step forward, now.”

The speakers on the ship translated my words to them. Their words would be translated to me by my earpiece.

“What do you want with me, low one?” he replied as he stepped forward.

“I want you to take my words and my meaning to your fellow prisoners. I want you to tell them, you and they are enemies of humans. Your race has attacked and enslaved our race without provocation, and thus are criminals. There has been no declaration of war, therefore all the Torbor can be to humans are criminals. Prisoners need to understand this concept completely.”

“We will understand nothing from your race of low beings,” he replied defiantly, angrily. “We Torbor are your superiors and we will not be interrogated or manipulated by such inferior beasts. Soon you will know this!” He spat at me, a filthy gob of brown phlegm from his gizzard pouch.

“We are here to speak with the Torbor criminals, and you are the highest ranking officer present. We wish to understand why this is all happening. Why do the Torbor attack humans? We know the Shaquaree attack to enslave their human prisoners and take them away somewhere. We want to know where they are taken and what is being done with them. We wish to speak of truce and possible peace with the Torbor. We have already tried with the Shaquaree and that effort failed due to their treachery. Will the Torbor speak with humans of what they know of the LCP, and of possible peace?”

“To speak of such things are beneath Torbor,” hissed the captured officer. “To have any dealings with humans other than enslavement would be the same as death to my race.”

“Death to your race? We do not understand your meaning. Torbor have spared the humans on Hanos, yet attack others. Why?”

“Let us go now, low one, and we will make your deaths quick and painless, and Hanos will yet survive. Keep us, and you all will die or be taken as slaves.”

“What if we put you on an unarmed ship and allowed you to return to your home? Would Torbor then speak with humans of truce or peace between our races?”

The Torbor officer squawked as if in laughter, then said, “Humans! Too stupid and slow to understand. I have already answered this question but you take no meaning or concept from my words. You do not believe me.”

“It is not a matter of belief, it is a matter of understanding. You must give us more information if we are to understand fully.”

“Humans could not understand if Torbor spoke for days.”

“How can you believe Torbor are so superior to humans? We defeated you in battle. We have captured many of you as prisoners of war.”

With a squawk and a wad of gross phlegm spat at me, the Torbor officer charged me, his “hands” raised to grab and his taloned feet snapping out to kick and rake. My katana was held in my left hand by the casement, handle forward. With no word, no warning, I grabbed the handle and whipped the blade from the casement in Movement One, the draw/strike. There was a flash of silver and a spew of green blood, and the Torbor officer lay dead in two pieces on the deck. His intestines spread out in two pools of green blood while his arms and eyelids fluttered and his bill opened and closed as he tried to breathe. Less than a second, and I was cleaning the blade on my shirt sleeve before replacing it in the casement.

In stunned disbelief, the rest of the Torbor prisoners stood frozen in place for an instant, then charged me en masse. My guards, Ronin, Spear, and Flynn, swept up their sonic crowd control units and fired, sweeping across the large deck. Our earplugs protected us from the discharge but the results were very satisfying on the Torbor prisoners.

Squawking loudly and thrashing in pain and disorientation, they fell to the deck writhing. I backed up a few meters and waited. The effects of the sonic units would wear off within a few minutes. Soon enough, the prisoners began climbing to their feet and moving about shakily.

I selected the next highest ranking officer, and began repeating my questions to him, her, it, whatever. The results were exactly the same, none. These creatures refused to accept our attempts at truce or peace. Our offers to send them home alive were met with derision and insults. Our questions about why they attacked humans were likewise spurned, deflected, or ignored.

I tried a new approach.

“Without cooperation with humans, the lives of the Torbor prisoners will be unpleasant,” I told them. “We will create a prison compound, where Torbor prisoners will be held in isolation. Someday, perhaps, when truce or peace is achieved, we will return all prisoners to your race. Until then, we offer better living conditions to any who will cooperate with us. We want power engineers, weapons experts, fabricating engineers, physicists, and more, to cooperate with us. Cooperation will earn better living, and trust may be built up. Which of you is a power engineer?”

Several of them ran at me, squawking and spitting. They were dropped to the deck thrashing and yowling.

“Which of you is a fabricating engineer?

“Which of you is a weapons engineer?

“Which of you is a physicist?”

Between each question more Torbor were hit by the sonic discharges when they attacked or spit defiance. “Any who cooperate may earn better lives,” I reminded them. “Which of you is a weapons engineer?”

The questions went on. After thirty minutes of repetition, there was no point in continuing the effort. The prisoners were set in their defiance. As a final option, I had several of the highest ranking officers among them separated to be taken to the brig. We would interrogate them individually later.

Back in the Rontar, I went up to the bridge, accompanied by my lieutenants. Captain Lewellyn was in his chair and rose to join me and we all went into the Ready Room. Within a few minutes we were joined by XO Dotes and several other Naval officers.

“The Torbor are completely uncooperative,” I announced. “We attempted questioning them and attempted to identify any who might cooperate with us. They refused to answer any questions or cooperate in any way with us ‘low ones.’ At one point, one of the officers said something about any kind of cooperation being ‘death to his race.’ That’s it. That is all we got, and we had to put them down with sonic crowd control numerous times when they charged us.”

“No explanations or clues as to why they and the Shaquaree are attacking humans and enslaving populations of entire worlds, beyond what we found in their files?” asked Lewellyn.

“Nothing. No clues whatsoever.”

“Opinions?” asked Lewellyn, opening the discussion to all present.