Bred for war - 5. A Captain's perspective

C’HkïJaråan Building of the Ruling Council

Planet Ç’HakJar

Light rain made the C’HkïJaråan sky look grayer than it normally did. It had been a long day and Admiral KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo was looking forward to calling it quits and going home for the day. The session with the Council, as usual, had left him drained and he did need to rest. Soon it would be his seventy second Bo’HJ’naRåk, and he wasn’t getting any younger. He looked thorugh the huge cristal wall of his office, which showed the city of C’håk H’J∂iar in all of its splendor. The round skyscrappers extended as far as the eye could see and the insect-like vehicles crowded the streets of the Capital City.

Admiral KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo turned away from the window and walked back to the huge varanium desk whose legs had been carved by hand in local R’ahn wood. He sighed and tapped a couple of buttons in the digital cristal screen under his arms, and the AI’s unmistakeable androginous voice was heard:

“Admiral KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo’s personal Logs. Please enter a date for log display.”

KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo sipped from his cup of Bahn’Tk€, placed it back on his desk and then typed the date in which he had recorded the message he was about to send. As he waited, he thought it might be a better idea to drink something stronger.

“Please enter security clearance,” the AI requested.

KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo typed a set of Ç’HkïJaråan characters. The screen blinked alive and started playing the video message.

“Here I am, my friend, getting in touch with you after some spins. I know it’s been some time now, and I wish I had been able to reach you more often, but as you can imagine, war has kept me busy as of late.

I’m tired, Hiro, tired as one can be. Tired of this long and absurd war, tired of the dead, the starvation, the civil unrest … It’s been … how long? I guess nobody really remembers how long this war with the Athruvian Empire has been. I can backtrack to the days of my childhood and war was already in motion. I, along with all of my generation, grew up with war as a background. We were born during war, grew up with war, aged with war. According to Ç’HkïJaråan History, the war with the Athruvians began 100 years ago, when their attack on our Capital city left an udeleteable blood stain of 30,000 dead civilians. A difficult thing to be forgotten.

As you well know, I once had a wife who died in an attack on one of our civilian outposts about 17 years ago, barely days after she had born my second son, but that's not surprising coming from the Athruvians; they know no boundaries, they have no respect for life, and, above all, they have no honor.

My two sons, the same you met some years ago when they were still nothing but children, are still alive and both in the service. I’hKna is now 28 years old, a full fledge young Ç’KkïJaråan male and a Lieutenant already.

Dhim'kha, on the other hand, is only 17 years old, just halfway through his teen age. But when it comes to war in Ç’HakJar, Hiro … as you well know, in Ç’HakJar age no longer matters … if it ever did.

What you do not know, my friend, is that Ç’HkïJaråan kids are taken into service when they're still very young. For this purpose, the Me’Hbar-E in C’håk H’J∂iar -our capital city- and in the most important urban centers of the planet, has built the Qaudrats, military facilities which serve both as boarding schools and bootcamps.

DhiM'kha was recruited upon his 13th Bo’HJ’naRåk; what is it that you Utopians call it? Birthday is it? Anyway, when his puberty was just beginning. He was sent to the C’håk H’J∂iar Qaudrat. There he was trained as he continued with his primary education.

Later on, upon completion of basic military training and right before his 17th Bo’HJ’naRåk, he was assigned to the Khår H’∂∂ari, a minor C’HkïJaråan ship in charge of patrolling the borders of Ç’HkïJaråan Space.

You might be wondering, my friend, why I’m telling you all this via subspace in an encrypted message over a secured channel. Well, it’s simple, really. Rumor has it that his ship has gone missing in action. It’s been past six cycles since anyone in Ç’HakJar heard from it or its crew.

If my son is dead, as both a Me’Hbar-e officer and Head of the Ç’HkïJråan Ruling Council, I can only but celebrate that he has gone to Bhar'javr in battle, and hence with honor, as any Ç’HkïJaråan warrior should end his existance. But as a father … as a father I remember how young my son is, how little time I had to bond with him … as a father, Hiro, I can only but hope that DhiM'kha is still alive, for he is the youngest of my bloodline.

This message, dear friend, I’m issuing in the hope that you might come across news from the Khår H’∂∂ari, whose last known location was the outrim of the Cho’pak II System. I know the Covenant has an outpoust in Ha’Aron’Ei, it being a Utopian Colony … any piece of news you might have, I’ll appreciate, and you’ll have my gratitutde forever, as you have had my friendship since the day we met.

So long ago,wasn’t it?

I do hope we will also find the time to meet some of these days, my friend. I’d love nothing more than a good drink and a chat with you. I live in the hope that I’ll hear from the Khår H’∂∂ari soon enough … If the Gods on Bhar'javr provide, my friend, I’ll soon be having a good mug of R’aKJnä with my beloved second born.

Admiral KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo out”

His image on the screen faded to black and Mar’gHtïo decided the message was ready to be sent. He transferred the message to a padnic and then tapped a couple of commands on a micro console located on the right side of his desk.

“Voicelink active,” The AI voice said.

“Sa’nMhe. Please come into my office.”

“Yes, sir,” the man responded on the other side of the voicelink.

The circular door to the Admiral’s office iris-opened and X’aKhJå Sa’nMhe entered. He bowed showing his respects to the head of the Ruling Council of Ç’HakJar. Sa’nMhe was a thickset Ç’HkïJaråan, young and with a serious and almost unreadable expression in his face. His hair was short, in the Me’Hbar-E fashion, and was of a dark-green color, a not uncommon trait in those born on the south hemisphere of the planet.

“How may I be of assistance, Admiral?” Sa’nMhe asked.

KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo looked at his personal secretary and handed him the padnic.

“I’m going to need you to relay this message to General Hiro Watanabe of the Covenant Council. Priority Green. On a secured channel.”

“Yes, Admiral.”

Sa’nMhe took the padnic in his hands and bowed to the Ç’HkïJaråan leader. He then turned in opposite direction towards the door. As he approached, the door irised and X’aKhJå Sa’nMhe went back to his place to comply with what he’d been asked to do.

When his personal secretary had left, KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo stood from his place and walked to the crystal wall. The sky was now totally gray and a heavy rain was pouring over the Capital.

So deep in thought he was, that he did not hear the hiss of the door irising.

“They say that when heavy rain falls over Ç’HakJar, the Gods are crying,” Lieutenant KwAb'haYa I’hKna said from behind his father.

“Lieutenant,” the Admiral replied turning away from the window to face his firstborn, “I did not hear you come in.”

“You seemed rather focused on the city.”

“I was focused on my thoughts, Lieutenant. Any news from the Khår H’∂∂ari as of now?”

I’hKna lowered his head and moved it sideways to indicate a negative. His father sighed heavily and walked towards his son.

“Then, I assume we will need to start preparing a communiqué to the families of the crew. They’ll want to be informed. And a memorial service too, to honor those who have left us.”

Lieutenant KwAb'haYa I’hKna nodded. The Admiral tapped his desk screen and it blinked off. He walked towards his son and looked him in the eye.

“Let’s go home, Lieutenant,” he said “It’s late and tomorrow will be a rather long day.”

I’hKna gave a half smile and approached his father. He gave him his arm and the Admiral refused it.

“I’m not that old as of yet, my son,” he said, trying to sound amused at his son’s gesture, but he was far from feeling amused.

He walked towards the door, followed three steps behind by his son, as Me’Hbar-E protocol demanded. The door irised and both the Ruler and his son came out of the office to call it a day. Admiral KwAb'haYa Mar’gHtïo was indeed very tired.

***************

Athruvian science vessel Da Malh N ahe on Ç’HkïJaråan Space in orbit around Planet Ha’Aron’Ei in the Cho’Pak II System

Al Y Amno was sitting in her office, when she heard the chime of the intercomm. She pushed the button to the left side of his desk and spoke.

“Captain Al Y Amno here.”

“Captain, this is the Command Deck,” Min Ha Taren spoke on the other side of the intercomm, “There’s a high priority message for you on a secured channel.”

“Who?”

“Captain Mar Tak Nehn, of the Battle Cruiser Ian E lahn, sir.”

Captain Al Y Amno exhaled deeply. It was about time someone responded to their distress call.

“I’ll take it in my office, Sergeant,” the Captain said, already arranging the crimson collar of her uniform and making sure her bun was still in place, “patch it through.”

“Yes, sir,” Min Ha Taren responded, and the intercomm chimed again.

Al Y Amno leaned back in her chair and tapped a button on her desk. There was a sudden flash of purple light and the image of a rather handsome man floated in front of her, courtesy of her desk’s holo emitters. He was handsome indeed, she decided, his skin slightly tanned and his eyes a lovely tone of maroon. He had strong eyebrows and a thin but good looking cupid bow mouth.

“Captain Nehn,” she greeted bowing.

“Captain Amno,” the man bowed back, “pleased to make your acquaintance.”

She leaned on one elbow, her chin resting on her right fist.

“To what do I owe the honor?”

“I’ve been ordered by high command to get in touch with your vessel. I understand there’s some delicate cargo on board your ship and I’ve been ordered to assist you in transporting it safely back to Athruvian soil.”

Captain Al Y Amno thought it was about time. The presence of a Battle Cruiser made her feel relaxed, much more relaxed than she had felt in the past hours since all of her ship’s drive systems had gone offline.

“I’ll have ops send our coordinates to you, Captain. When can I expect you to drop by?”

“We’re finishing repairs on our Main Navigational Array,” her counterpart said, “We should be ready to meet you within the next two hours.”

“I’d be glad to see you around, Captain. Have you ever been on board an Athruvian Science vessel?”

“Not as yet,” Mar Tak Nehn answered, tilting his head a bit to the right.

“Well, I’ll be glad to show you around.”

“Thanks, Captain. Nehn out.”

The image of the Ian E lahn’s Captain vanished as the holo emitters finished the message. Captain Al Y Amno tapped a couple of buttons on her desk’s screen and went over the last update from Engineering; if things went according to plan, their warp drive would be up and about by the time the Ian E lahn joined them in orbit around Ha’Aron’Ei.

The intercomm chimed again. Al Y Amno tapped the button and heard Lar E Mnar on the other side.

“We’re ready for the maneuver and standing by for your orders, Captain.”

“Im on my way,” was all she said.

She stood up from her desk and walked towards the painting of the Emperess that hung across from her desk. For the first time since they were adrift, she realized she was afraid, but that was not something she’d admit to any officer in her crew. She’d been a Captain for over three standards now, but truth was she’d never wanted a captaincy in the first place; she would’ve been content to lead the life she’d led back in Athraa as head of the Research and Development Section of the Military Science Department.

But war had demanded that she took her own command and so had she some years before. She was glad, anyway, that she had never had the time for a family or a husband; it would’ve been much more difficult to part with loved ones. So here she was, a Captain. Truth was, she hated command more than anything she’d known before in her life, she just wanted this war to be over once and for all. But while that happened, she had to see to the Ç’HkïJaråan scoutcraft.

She walked away from the painting and walked towards her office doors. She pushed a button and the doors to her office slid open. Captain Al Y Amno entered the bridge. The three Athruvian officers on the bridge, including the First Officer, stood up and bowed.

“At ease, officers,” the Captain said as she took her seat in front of the round desk.

“We’re ready to proceed, sir,” Master Sergeant Da Lahron Seimna told the captain turning on his seat, right of hers, to face her.

“Very well, Master Sergeant. Proceed.”

Da Lahron Seimna, his expression still troubled by what they were about to do, turned to face the officers on tactical and ops.

“Sergeant Lar E Mnar,” he said, “lay in the course for the probe with the predicted trajectory.”

“Yes, sir!” Lar E Mnar answered as he tapped some keys on his console, “Course laid in, sir.”

“Sergeant Taren, launch probe.”

“Yes, sir.”

Min Ha Taren keyed some commands into her console. The holographic display on the Captain’s desk came to life, showing a map of the Cho’Pak II System, indicating the Da Mal Nah E’s position in reference to it. Almost instantly, a red dot appeared on the display, fired by the science vessel.

“Probe launched, sir.”

“Very well, Sergeant,” the Captain said, “let me know when the enemy scoutcraft has entered the planet’s atmosphere.”

“Yes, sir.”

“The EMP sequence has been programmed according to estimates on their trajectory, Captain,” Da Lahron Seimna told his Commanding Officer.

“Thank you, Master Sergeant.”

The tension built-up on the Command Deck as they followed the path of the probe towards the atmosphere of Tem’Hari. The Ç’HkïJaråan scoutcraft appeared and disappeared from the holographic display, because of the fluctuation in their cloaking matrix, as Sergeant Min Ha Taren had explained the Captain before.

The scoutcraft, a white dot on the holographic display, entered the atmosphere of Tem’Hari, closely followed by the dot which represented the Athruvian unmanned probe.

Lar E Mnar turned to face the Captain.

“Captain, If I may?”

“Go ahead, Sergeant,” the Captain nodded.

“The probe is in close proximity to the enemy vessel. Countdown for EMP release has initiated. 10, 9, 8, 7 ….”

Captain Al Y Amno heaved a sigh. Her hands were tightly gripped to the arms of her command chair, as if what happened next depended on how much strength she put in her grip.

“6, 5, 4 ….”

Master Sergeant Da Lahron Seimna sat tight against his chair, observing the probe and following its trajectory coming close to the Ç’HkïJaråan snail-like scoutcraft. The pulse was about to be engaged and there would be no turning back. Sweat was pearling up in his forehead.

“3, 2, 1 ….”

The little dot on the holographic display blinked a couple of times and Seimna knew that was it.

“EMP pulse engaged!” Lar E Mnar reported from his station.

“Report on the scoutcraft,” Captain Al Y Amno demanded from her seat.

“The pulse has disrupted their engines, Captain,” Min Ha Taren reported from ops, “They’re attempting to fire them up again.”

The dot that represented the scoutcraft started describing a free fall against the planet’s surface. It didn’t take more than a few fractions of second for the Athruvians to realize their plan had been effective.

“Their efforts have not resulted in effective restart of their ship’s engines, sir,” Lar E Mnar reported, “they’re falling adrift to the planet’s surface.”

“Good,” Al Y Amno stated.

And there was a cold edge to her voice that gave the acting Executive Officer the goosebumps.

A couple of seconds later, the scoutcraft’s signature in the holographic display disappeared, along with the Athruvian probe. As if it was necessary, Min Ha Taren reported from her station.

“The Ç’HkïJaråan scoutcraft has crashed on the planet’s surface, Captain.”

“Good,” the Captain said once again, happy that the threat had been eliminated.

She stood up from her chair and looked at her tactical and ops officers, “Well done, officers.”

Da Lahron looked at his commanding officer, still shocked at how coldly she could look at the situation. He thought, as Captain Al Y Amno walked towards her office, that maybe it was him the one that didn’t belong in the military, the one who was out of place in that Command Deck … and in that war. If not, why was he second guessing his inherent instincts? He hated the Ç’HkïJaråan, they had killed both his parents. They should all be wiped from existence! Why, then, was this particular shuttle’s destruction giving him so much trouble?

“I’ll be in my office,” Al Y Amno said, bringing him outside his thoughts, “Keep me appraised of progress in the repairs of our navigational systems.”

“Yes, sir,” Da Lahron Seimna replied.

“And advise me when the Ian E lahn comes into orbit.”

“Yes, sir,” it was Lar E Mnar this time.

Da Lahron Seimna remained silent, his left hand on his forehead as he thought of the Ç’HkïJaråan scoutcraft. He was sitting on his chair on the Command Deck, but he was not really there. His thoughts kept on drifting from the Deck, to the people on the Ç’HkïJaråan vessel, wondering still if they had done the right thing at destroying it. He remained on the Command Deck even when he was not on shift, he did not feel like going to his quarters and deal with his conscience.