In Earth's Service (Mapped Space Book 2) Read online

  0.78 Earth Normal Gravity

  746 light years from Sol

  1,256 Enlisted Personnel

  Lena summoned me to a debrief after the destruction of the Mavia. The Vigilant and her two damaged escorts had retreated to the nearest Earth Navy facility, a small supply base between Middle and Outer Ursa Minor. Nassau and Delhi were on the ground when I arrived, undergoing what repairs a base with no maintenance dock could offer. The Vigilant remained in parking orbit above, carefully stationed inside the firing envelopes of the base’s aging surface batteries. Because the summons came as an Earth Navy directive, not a request from my EIS controller, there was no need of a cover story for Jase and Izin. After we landed, they remained on board while I tramped across the cold landing field, past a row of rectangular warehouses and pressurized utility buildings to the Nassau.

  The frigate was surrounded by a cluster of mobile cranes working to patch damaged hull segments and remove her forward turret. The turret’s heavy plate armor had been peeled open like tin foil, although her remaining armament looked intact. It would take months to get a replacement turret shipped out from Earth and a proper dock to install it. Until then, the best Uralo IV’s minimal facilities could do was ensure the Nassau was airtight, if not battle ready.

  The Delhi was another matter. She was parked two clicks away, a blackened hulk with flash scoring along most of her hull. Her main armament was in ruins and one of her maneuvering engines had been holed. Only the redundancy built into her spacetime distorters had saved the crew from being trapped in the Duranis-B system with the Kirishima. Now she lay like a charred corpse on the landing field, with only one crane and a few ground vehicles alongside, a sure sign that the navy had decided to focus their efforts on getting her sister ship operational.

  At the base of Nassau’s aft access ramp, a pair of armed URA troopers glanced at my ID and subjected me to a cursory DNA scan, confirming my identify.

  “They’re waiting for you, sir, frame D forty six, port side,” one of the troopers replied. “Do you need a guide?”

  “I know the way,” I said then strode up the ramp.

  I followed the port passageway forward, through corridors crowded with crew and base personnel hurriedly conducting repairs under the watchful eyes of overworked engineering officers. Melted panels, cables and tools littered the decks while maintenance bots cut away twisted bulkheads and crewmen installed what replacement parts were available. It was organized chaos, driven by an urgent need to get the Nassau back into space as soon as possible.

  When I reached frame D forty six, I was met by another armed URA trooper who led me through to the chief petty officer’s mess. It was now lined with screens displaying sensor feeds of the Uralo System beamed down from the Vigilant and watched by tactical officers sitting at hastily assembled operations terminals. The far end of the compartment was screened off from the makeshift command center by a dark curtain strung across the room. As soon as I passed through it, the sounds of the ship under repair and the muted chatter from the command center died, telling me there was a sonic nullifier in place around the area.

  Lena Voss, wearing a dark jumpsuit showing no rank, stood beside two senior officers. One was portly with graying hair and four stripes. The other was younger and taller with a full beard. Beside them was a small figure wrapped in a loose fitting, hooded Earth Navy jacket. All four stood in front of a holo display showing our little corner of the Orion Arm.

  Lena greeted me with a sober nod. “Sirius, good to see you.” She motioned to the two officers. “This is Captain Reynar of the Vigilant and Commander Desouza of the Nassau.” The two officers nodded curtly. The smaller figure turned, revealing a Tau Cetin face as Lena added, “I believe you’ve met Observer Siyarn.”

  “Yes,” I said, barely masking my surprise. “I thought you were in the Minacious Cluster.”

  “I was,” Siyarn replied without moving his lips. Somewhere inside that Earth Navy jacket, a translation device spoke for him. “In light of events in the Duranis System, my return was required.”

  I gave Lena a questioning look, wondering how the Tau Cetins had gotten the news so fast. It would be months before couriers could report to Earth and up to two years before every navy ship and base received an update on what had happened at Duranis-B.

  “Siyarn approached me,” Lena explained. “Apparently the Kesarn briefed the Tau Cetins.”

  “Did they?” The Kesarn might not entirely trust the Tau Cetins, but they hated the Intruders whom they were no match for. If the Intruders were coming out again, the Kesarn had no choice but to turn to the Tau Cetins.

  “We detected a particularly destructive explosion,” Siyarn said, “of a type that could only have come from a Kesarn ship. We were naturally curious.”

  “Yeah, those dark energy siphons make a hell of a bang. It was the Intruder Matriarch’s fault, she blew it up, although the Matarons stole it.”

  “So the Kesarn say,” Siyarn said.

  Lena gave me a curious look, signaling Siyarn had not told her everything. “The Tau Cetins have agreed to deliver a report on the current situation to Earth for us, and to our bases across Mapped Space.”

  “How very helpful of them,” I said, surprised the Tau Cetins were doing us any favors.

  “We have observed fighting on a number of human worlds,” Siyarn said, “and detected attacks on Earth Navy ships throughout human space.”

  “Surprise attacks,” Captain Reynar added. “They’re catching our ships with their shields down. Some on the ground, some in parking orbit.”

  Lena motioned to the holo display. It depicted a sphere approximately two thousand four hundred light years across with Earth at its center. Red contact markers were sprinkled throughout, mostly beyond the Core Worlds. “As you can see, the attacks are widespread.”

  “How fast can the Tau Cetins warn them?” I asked.

  “Within a week all of your bases will be advised,” Siyarn said.

  “Are you allowed to do that, Fourth Principle and all?”

  “The Development Principle ensures each civilization develops in its own way, Captain Kade. While it precludes advanced civilizations accelerating less developed societies, passing on information you already possess does not contravene the basic principle. In any event, the collective security exception provides an arguable rationale for our assistance.”

  It was space lawyer talk, but he was undoubtedly right. In all the volumes of Access Treaty legalese they’d given us there were endless exceptions and qualifications which the Tau Cetins had proven time and again they knew better than anyone else in the galaxy – probably because they wrote half of them!

  “How do humans blowing each other’s brains out affect the galaxy’s collective security?” I asked.

  “Any action involving the Intruders affects our collective security,” Siyarn replied. “Your species has been unlawfully destabilized by the Matarons and the Intruders. We are merely mitigating the effect of that interference, although we would not reveal that unless challenged.”

  “You know the Matarons started this?” I said relieved. “And you’re going to drop the hammer on them, right?”

  “What we know,” Siyarn said carefully, “and what we can prove to the Forum Membership are not the same.”

  “But the snakeheads betrayed your fleet!”

  “So it is claimed, by you and the Kesarn,” he said cautiously. “Even if we believe you, many of our distant partners will not. They require a high burden of proof.”

  “Because they’re tired of blockading the Intruders,” I said, remembering Vrate’s warning that the Alliance was weakening, “and they want out.”

  “They are weary, but they also doubt that a species at your level of development would warrant this kind of attention from the Intruders. They don’t understand Mataron psychology, trading your destruction for their allegiance. And while the Forum Powers have contained the Intruders for over two thousand years, many believe that is long eno
ugh. They think it is time to negotiate.”

  “But not you?” Lena asked.

  “The Intruders are an ever present threat. It is their nature. However, we cannot act alone, which is why any unauthorized assistance we offer you must be discreet.”

  “I’ve seen you analyze stuff,” I said. “Can’t you do that in the Duranis System, find proof that’ll hang the snakeheads out to dry?”

  “There is now a black hole orbiting Duranis-B,” Siyarn replied. “Whatever evidence may have existed has been consumed by that black hole. Nothing useful remains.”

  “You can’t let the Matarons get away with betraying your fleet!”

  “There are advantages to not letting the Intruders or the Matarons know we have become aware of their alliance. In terms of the Matarons, we will ensure that any reinforcements they send to the Alliance Fleet are assigned to noncritical sectors.”

  “What about the Intruders? Gern Vrate thinks they’re coming out again.”

  “We are currently blind to their intentions. It remains to be seen if we can assemble sufficient strength to reinstate a close blockade of the Minacious Cluster.”

  “You have your masking technology.”

  “Unfortunately, it is not as effective against the Intruders as it once was.”

  “So the snakeheads win,” I said. “You sit around doing nothing, while we tear ourselves apart and the they get help from the Intruders.” The odds against us suddenly took a terrible turn for the worse.

  “In matters of galactic security, we are never idle,” Siyarn said. “In relation to your present internal conflict, the Forum will not allow us to intervene unless you attempt to annihilate yourselves, in which case the only action we could take would be to impose an embargo, to ensure your species’ survival.”

  “And that would be ten thousand years without interstellar access rights,” Lena said soberly.

  “To give you time to mature,” Siyarn said. “Unfortunately, the Matarons have played upon the fact that the only peer-to-peer conflict possible for mankind is a civil war. All of your neighbors are far too advanced for you to fight, not that the Forum would permit such a one sided conflict. A civil war gives you an adversary with equivalent technology, who is also close enough in the galaxy for you to engage. Technological equivalence and spatial proximity are the limiting factors, the reasons why war between early interstellar civilizations rarely, if ever, occurs. In a galaxy such as ours, it is a virtual impossibility.”

  “Really?” Commander Desouza asked incredulously.

  “No two civilizations ever emerge at precisely the same time, in exactly the same part of the galaxy. Peer-to-peer conflicts are far less likely to occur in space than they are on a single planet, where societies appear and develop together. Of course, the preferred solution to your present crisis lies in your hands, not ours. Learn to make peace with yourselves, then you can join the Forum and live in peace with all its members.”

  “There’s nothing I’d like more,” Lena said to the silent nods of the two naval officers.

  “You talk of galactic peace,” I said, “but you’ve been at war with the Intruders for thousands of years.”

  “That is true,” Siyarn conceded. “It is the only kind of interstellar conflict possible between equals, a war between ultra-advanced civilizations with approximate technological parity and the means to travel the vast distances needed to engage each other. It is not a situation of our choosing. Normally, civilizations at such advanced levels have learned to avoid conflict, however, the Intruders are an aberration, an exception. That is what makes them so dangerous.”

  For the first time, I sensed uncertainty in Siyarn’s words. “You don’t think the Intruders have a chance of winning, do you?”

  “They have had more than two thousand years to prepare, to study us, to understand our strengths and weaknesses … and to find allies. If what you and the Kesarn say is true, the Matarons now give the Intruders eyes and ears across the galaxy, something they never had before.”

  “Sounds like a good reason to shut the Matarons down,” I said.

  “When we have evidence, we will present it to the Forum membership and a collective decision will be made. Until then, we must watch and wait for them to make a mistake. There are too many Forum members ready to accept unwise compromises with the Intruders, members who would oppose us if we acted hastily. They want peace even if it leaves us with a much heavier burden later.”

  “And we’re on our own, again,” I said bitterly.

  “Not exactly,” Lena said slowly. “We’ve come to an understanding, Sirius,” she glanced meaningfully at Siyarn, “with the Tau Cetins.”

  “What kind of understanding?”

  “As Observers,” she said, “they must be impartial in their dealings with all civilizations. They can’t give the Matarons or us special treatment.”

  “Kind of tough considering the Matarons are working for their enemy, isn’t it?”

  “Galactic diplomacy,” Siyarn said, “is a very complex affair, Captain Kade, one we have successfully manipulated for millions of years.”

  It was perhaps the truest thing the Tau Cetin Observer had ever said. They were master manipulators on a galactic scale. It was their greatest skill.

  “For the Tau Cetins to retain the trust of the Forum, they must be seen to be impartial,” Lena said. “That doesn’t mean they’re neutral.”

  I knew from her tone, from the look in her eyes and from the two naval officers’ demeanor that this was important. “What’s the difference?”

  “Though we cannot prove it to the Forum membership,” Siyarn said, “we believe the Matarons are working for the Intruders, hoping to break the power of the Alliance. To do that, they must defeat us.”

  “You are the big target,” I agreed.

  “Because the Matarons are spying for the Intruders,” Lena added, “We have agreed to work more closely with the Tau Cetins, in secret of course.”

  “Have we?” I said warily.

  From the eagerness in her eyes, it was clear she was delighted the Tau Cetins were taking us in close, showing us a level of trust we could never have hoped to achieve if they weren’t themselves under threat.

  “We will continue to take a serious interest in what the Matarons are doing,” Lena said, “and share our findings with the Tau Cetins. If we’re caught, we’ll be censured, but the Forum knows there’s tension between us and the Matarons. We can take risks the Tau Cetins can’t, because we don’t have to be neutral. No one cares if we stick our noses where they’re not supposed to be.”

  “Except the Matarons, who will cut our noses off.”

  “Then you better not get caught.” She smiled. “And if other problems crop up, like Intruders in Mapped Space, we might look into that as well.”

  “Just so long as no one can blame the impartial Tau Cetins for what a bunch of primitive humans do?”

  “Exactly. And in return for our help, the Tau Cetins will actively sponsor our membership to the Galactic Forum.”

  “That’s forty nine years away.”

  “In cosmic terms, it is the blink of eye,” Siyarn said. “In the meantime, we will assist you in other ways. The Fourth Principle prevents us openly accelerating your civilization, however, where you encounter obstacles, we will provide solutions. Nothing far beyond your reach, but solutions you might plausibly have achieved on your own – eventually.”

  It sounded like a cut down version of the deal they’d offered the Kesarn, a deal that had cost Gern Vrate’s ancestors their homeworld. There were huge benefits trouble shooting for the Tau Cetins, but I wondered if Lena realized how great were the risks. Human Civilization might be young and full of energy, but in raw power terms we were insignificantly small, a minnow about to be drawn into a cosmic power struggle between ancient galactic superpowers. It was an incredibly dangerous game, one we couldn’t control or predict the outcome of, a game with catastrophic consequences if we backed the wrong side.


  “Does that mean we’re getting dark energy siphons and trans galactic drives?” I asked.

  “No,” Siyarn replied. “We could not hide such a gift.”

  “You gave them to the Kesarn.”

  “They were Forum members of long standing, their homeworld was being invaded and many others were under attack at the time. It was a clear Fourth Principle exception. Collective security was threatened on a galactic scale and such a transfer benefited many civilizations. These circumstances are not the same.”

  “That deal cost the Kesarn everything,” I said. “Why should we take the same risk?”

  Lena gave me a sharp look. “Because Earth Council wants this.”

  “I understand your concern, Captain Kade,” Siyarn said. “Know that we could not help the Kesarn at the time. We were fighting for our own survival. After the war, we engineered a new homeworld for them, ideal in every respect.”

  “Except they were dead.”

  “Sirius!” Lena snapped.

  “No,” Siyarn said, “he is right. We have a debt to the Kesarn we can never repay. We assisted them knowing they would resist and the Intruders would not tolerate that resistance. The Kesarn were always going to be crushed. The truth is, our help saved them from extinction.”

  A awkward silence fell over the room.

  Finally, I said, “So we risk everything to help you. What do you risk?”

  Lena fixed a cold stare upon me, but said nothing.

  “Your homeworld is less than twelve light years from ours,” Siyarn said. “If we are destroyed, what chance is there for you?”

  Siyarn was as slippery as a Silurian slime-eel, but he was right. Whether we liked it or not, we were in it together because Earth was in their sphere of influence. Maybe that’s what the Intruder Matriarch had meant when she’d said we served her enemy. She knew we were in the Tau Cetin sphere and we had no say in it, we couldn’t opt out, but we could have done worse. We could have been close to the Matarons with no Forum ruling the galaxy, or stuck in the Minacious Cluster, subjugated by the Intruders.

  “I get it. So, what are these helpful solutions you’re going to give us?”