In Earth's Service (Mapped Space Book 2) (43 page)

“I don’t think he likes me,” Izin said.

“He doesn’t know you like I do.”

Izin turned toward the outer hatch as it opened
into the
Lining’s
airlock. “I’m sorry the Intruder Matriarch overpowered
me, Captain.”

I patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. “Don’t
worry, Izin, we all have women trouble. It almost makes you human.”

“No need to insult me, Captain,” he said as the
Lining’s
airlock sealed shut behind us.

Earth Navy Supply Base

Uralo System, Outer Ursa Minor

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 enough. 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.