The Dark Between The Stars

TWENTY
GENERAL NALANI KEAH

It was just a routine patrol for the Confederation Defense Forces. The Juggernaut Kutuzov led a battle group of ten smaller Manta cruisers. General Nalani Keah sat in the command chair on the flagship’s bridge—her bridge. Her battleship.

She’d even given the big vessel its name after Field Marshal Mikhail Kutuzov, one of the military heroes she’d studied in the history of warfare. Whenever someone asked, Keah would give a full description of Kutuzov’s military career, his suppression of the Bar Confederation uprising, fighting in three Russo-Turkish wars, and of course his battles against Napoleon at Borodinō and Austerlitz. She could give many colorful details, story after story of Kutuzov’s career and exploits, but very few people were actually interested in old military history.

Those who did study the records were interested in more recent events, such as the Elemental War and the Klikiss invasion, but Keah had lived through those events herself when she was an up-and-coming officer in the Earth Defense Forces. She had been there at Earth facing off against the Klikiss swarmships when sabotage ripped through the new EDF battleships, destroying the human defensive line and killing half of her crewmates.

That wasn’t history to her; she wasn’t that old! She preferred her military history to involve sailing ships, cannons, horses, and cavalry.

“Arriving at Rheindic Co,” said Lieutenant Tait, at the helm.

“Right on time,” Keah said. “Check with the transportal transfer station down there. Make sure all is well.” Rheindic Co served as a hub for those using the alien transportal network to travel among the connected planets.

“Yes, General. That’s the reason we’re here.”

She was sure the crew didn’t believe it. They all kept up the polite fiction, played their roles, did their duties, and got high marks in their personnel files when each mission was over.

Unlike her predecessors running the EDF, now the CDF, Keah preferred to have a mobile command, engaging in practical exercises like this. The best times in her life had been aboard ships, doing hands-on military business, grooming herself for promotions and more command responsibility, while staying far away from offices and bureaucracy.

Nalani Keah was tall, six feet five inches, with long blue-black hair, Asian features blended with islander features (although she had, in fact, been born at the EDF base on Mars). Raised as a military brat, she had been transferred often in her youth, seen a lot of installations (all basically the same), made a lot of friends (although shallow ones), and enlisted, as expected.

The comm officer touched his implanted microphone. “Rheindic Co says all is well, General. Transportal functioning normally, travelers flowing through as usual. Oh, and they say thanks for checking on them.”

“All in a day’s work for the CDF, Mr. Aragao.” She turned to her sensor technician. “Lieutenant Saliba, please run a complete scan of the system. Keep your eyes open.”

The female sensor tech looked up. “For what purpose, General?”

Keah arched her eyebrows. “For the purpose of keeping you busy! Or would you rather use a fingerbrush to clean out every reclamation stall on this ship while contemplating why a bridge crew officer doesn’t have any business nitpicking orders?”

“I understand, General,” Saliba said, cowed. “I was only asking for clarification as to what you’re looking for, so I could adjust the sensors accordingly.”

“So you only search for what you’re already expecting to find? That’s a recipe for disaster.”

The woman flushed and looked away. “Scanning now, General. Looking for anything unusual… nothing. The system is clear.”

From the helm, Lieutenant Tait said, “Should I plot a course for the next system on our patrol route?”

“Don’t bother. We’re staying here.” Several members of the bridge crew almost asked why, but then remembered not to.

General Keah looked at the chronometer. Another ten minutes and she would be annoyed. “Come on, Z,” she muttered. “You’re spoiling my surprise.”

“General!” Saliba cried. “Sensor traces. Large ships just entered the system—seven of them. Checking sensor profile, matching configurations now. I’ll have an identification soon.”

“The fact that they’re traveling in a group of seven should give you a hint. Ildirans always travel in sevens.” Keah didn’t bother to hide her satisfied smile. “Battle stations!”

“Confirmed,” said Weapons Officer Patton. “Seven warliners, entering attack formation. Weapons powering up!”

“Defense protocol twelve—you’ve all been briefed, and you’ve run simulations. Remora pilots, to your spacecraft and prepare to launch.”

“But, General, we have no conflict with the Solar Navy—”

“Does it look like we have no conflict with them? Jazer banks active. Set shields on full.”

Mr. Aragao hovered over his communications station. “Should I open a commline, General? It’s… it’s Adar Zan’nh himself.”

“Only after we’ve got our defenses set. I don’t want the Kutuzov blasted to atoms while we’re saying hello.”

Her bridge crew scrambled to their duties, and the remaining ships in the CDF battle group took positions. The ten Manta cruisers spread out, shifting places, per orders, while the seven Ildiran warliners arrived in a precise wheel pattern, with the Adar’s flagship in the dead center. It was very pretty and strategically stupid, Keah thought. Just what she expected.

The commander of the Ildiran Solar Navy appeared on the screen. He wore his formal military jacket, bedecked with sparkling medals; his topknot had been arranged neatly in place. “General Nalani Keah.” His voice sounded flat and dry, as if he had recorded it himself earlier and practiced lip-syncing. “I am Adar Zan’nh.”

He was really getting into the show. Keah rolled her eyes at the absurd comment and couldn’t resist a comeback of her own. “I recognize you. I have a pack of Identify Famous Ildirans trading cards. It wouldn’t be complete without your picture.”

Zan’nh didn’t smile at the joke. “With this septa of warliners, I will seize your battle group and lay claim to the transportal nexus world Rheindic Co in the name of the Ildiran Empire.”

Her bridge crew couldn’t hold back their cries of dismay, groans, and even a few catcalls.

“I think not, Adar,” Keah said. “I could make my point by blowing you to pieces, but all that debris would form a navigational hazard around a perfectly viable world. I’ve got ten battleships here to your seven.”

Zan’nh was unimpressed. “My warliners outgun you.”

“My ships are still better. Mr. Patton, power up jazer banks. Remora squads, deploy according to your orders. Manta cruisers, take your new positions—just don’t hit each other.”

Six hundred Remora fighter craft spewed out of the launching bays of the ten CDF ships. The Mantas spun and circled while the gaudy alien warships remained in perfect, precise formation. Adar Zan’nh’s warliners extended their solar-panel wings, which made them look fierce and intimidating.

Keah just snorted. “It’s all for show, and it makes them bigger targets. Paint ‘em up. Fire at will!” Then she added, though it should not have been necessary, “And don’t forget, simulated charges only.” Most had figured out already that this was a joint war-game exercise, but considering how wound up her battle group was, the reminder didn’t hurt.

Three Manta cruisers rotated to take up blocking positions in front of the Kutuzov, which prevented Keah from firing as much as she liked, but since the object of the game was to disable and capture the opposing team’s flagship, it was strategically necessary to protect her Juggernaut at all costs.

The other seven Mantas, meanwhile, launched a flurry of potshots at their Ildiran counterparts. Hundreds of Remoras flew out like a maddened swarm of honeybees, completely random and unpredictable.

Keah leaned back in her command chair, watching. The bridge crew might as well learn something, she decided. “Ildirans can’t stand anything that has no pattern. By letting our pilots choose their own targets, and telling the Manta commanders to head toward the end-goal however they see fit, Adar Zan’nh can’t predict what he’s facing, nor can he formulate a defense on the fly. Believe me, this is an important lesson for the Ildirans.” She didn’t even try to hide her smile. “And I am very honored to teach him.”

Over the next hour, the tallies of hits and kills piled up. Once Remora pilots were struck and declared destroyed, they limped back to their launching bays. For a fully realistic scenario, the dead ships should have been left on the space battlefield, where they would become hazards, but General Keah didn’t want to overwhelm the Ildirans. Adar Zan’nh could learn one step at a time.

Although she lost five of her Mantas due to bombardment, their shields depleted, her Juggernaut was virtually unscathed. Four of the Solar Navy warliners were also offline, and the fifth one was nearly spent. The Adar’s flagship had been damaged as well, but not severely.

When General Keah finally grew tired of the game and decided to lock up her victory, she sent a tight signal to the three nearly depleted Mantas that huddled around the Kutuzov as a defense. “On my signal, drop out of the way. You’d better clear fast, or you’ll be in the crossfire and wreck my shot.” She turned to her weapons officer. “Mr. Patton, I want all of the Kutuzov’s jazers ready to fire at once, on my command. I don’t care if it depletes our batteries. One shot will be enough—if it works.”

When General Keah gave the order, the Mantas fell away and accelerated, leaving the Kutuzov exposed—and ready to fire. “Now!”

The Juggernaut’s full array of energy weapons painted the flagship warliner, running down the Adar’s remaining score within seconds. Keah smiled and mouthed, “Boom!”

After the engagement, it was her turn to invite Zan’nh over to the Kutuzov. When the Adar arrived, he was accompanied by an entourage of peskily eager attender kith who carried a display case half a meter on a side. Zan’nh presented to her an exact replica of a Solar Navy warliner, suspended in an energy field that kept it positioned inside the case.

She accepted the gift and invited him into her captain’s suite. “My ship models sit on plastic stands, Z. This will be a very nice addition.” She set the warliner replica on her shelf in a place of honor (actually the empty place where her model of the Merrimack had sat before she surrendered it to the Adar).

During their previous practice engagements, Keah and Zan’nh had established a tradition that the loser would present an interesting gift to the victor. So far, General Keah had given the Adar two of her favorite sailing-ship models. She had lost the first two engagements, simply because she wasn’t familiar with Ildiran Solar Navy techniques. Once she figured out the Adar’s pattern, though, she beat him in the next four engagements.

The attenders remained out in the corridor so she and the Adar could have a private conversation. Closing the stateroom door, Keah gave him a frank assessment. “You worry too much about the show, Z.” She tossed her long hair back and regarded him with her jade-green eyes. “In a real battle you should figure out how to win—not how to show off. Do whatever it takes.”

“For the Solar Navy, the show itself has often been the victory,” he said.

“That may be fine in times of peace, but you were there and you remember—neither the Hansa nor the Ildiran Empire were prepared when the hydrogues started attacking planets.” She unsealed her bureau drawer with a thumbprint lock and pulled out an old facsimile journal. She held it for a moment, wistful, then handed it to him. “Have this translated by one of your rememberers—it’s an actual journal from the original General Kutuzov describing his strategic philosophy. It was written after Borodinō.”

“You do not owe me a gift. You won our engagement.”

“You’re my friend, Z. If I find something interesting and want to share it with you, then shut up and accept it.”

The two of them had spent hours engaged in reenactment simulations, using the starting parameters of old Earth campaigns and then playing out the battles with their own insights. Keah was keen to see if she could do better than history’s great military commanders. Of course, she had the advantage of knowing what those commanders had done wrong, but there was nothing wrong with learning from the best.

During the dramatic final showdown with the Klikiss fleet twenty years ago, Keah had operated entirely on instinct. She had made a name for herself that day, leaping into the bridge chair when her commanding officer was killed. Now, after decades of peace, she still remembered the heat of combat, and she didn’t want to let her guard down—which was why she also studied the Ildiran military. Adar Zan’nh was faced with a similar challenge, to keep his Solar Navy from growing stagnant.

She opened a bottle of her favorite wine and poured them each a glass. “Neither one of us wants our military to become just a showpiece, Z.” She clinked her glass against his. She sipped, savored the smooth red wine.

Zan’nh didn’t much care for wine, but he drank it out of politeness. He said, “Even though our wars have ended, General, the universe is not a peaceful place. There are hazards and dangers that have nothing to do with actual enemies, and our personnel need to know how to respond.”

Keah got down to business. “I’ve identified three potential enemies that I’m forced to think about.”

“Three?”

She set down her wineglass and ticked them off on her fingers. “First, there may be internal struggles in the Confederation. Planets have their independence, and we have the Confederation Charter, but that isn’t going to stop squabbling. It’s just human nature.”

The Adar seemed amused. “Human nature? Fortunately we don’t suffer from that failing. With the telepathic thism that connects us all and with the guidance of our Mage-Imperator, squabbling rarely happens among Ildirans.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Oh? Didn’t your mad Designate start a civil war not long ago?”

“That was… an unusual thing.” Embarrassed, he sipped his wine again. “What is the second threat?”

“The second threat—and my apologies, Z, but we must be realistic—the Confederation could clash with the Ildiran Empire. I don’t know how or why, but it’s a possibility. So it’s my job to make sure my CDF ships can kick the Solar Navy’s butt.”

Zan’nh chuckled. “You can try, General, but you’re not likely to succeed.”

“Today’s results suggest otherwise. That’s the point of war games.”

“And the third threat?” he pressed.

“Third, is something we can’t even guess—like the appearance of the hydrogues or the faeros. A totally unexpected enemy.”

“We can be vigilant against such a threat. But if we know nothing about it, how can we prepare?”

“We’ll have to learn that on the fly.” She smiled. “I look forward to our next mission together, Z.”