The Span of Empire: Chapter Thirteen

    Caitlin hadn’t expected to have the search strategy meeting right away, but in the event it took over a week before she could gather all the people together she wanted. When she groused to Ed about it, he just laughed.

    “Be glad you’re getting them that soon,” he said. “I’ve learned more about ships and supplies than I ever wanted to know since I took the base commander’s job. I shoulda joined the Navy. But the base is only partly functional, so the ships’ crews are doing a lot of the loading and unloading of supplies. Even Tully’s troops are having to bear a hand for this. And the ships’ officers need to be available while that is going on, especially on the ships that need repairs.”

    “Speaking of repairs,” Caitlin began.

    “You’re going to lose the Vercingetorix,” Ed said.

    “Crap!”

    “She just needs too much work that we can’t do here.” Ed continued. “In another year or so we’ll have a shipyard that could service her, even as banged up as she is. Now, the best thing to do is ship her off to Earth.”

    “Isn’t one of the Jao worlds closer?”

    “Yeah,” Ed replied. “But that ship is a bastard mix of Jao and Terran designs and technologies. There’s no Jao yard that could handle her, even if they would. No, the Ricky will head for Earth as soon as they put a little more spit and super tape on her. Hopefully they’ve got something they can send to replace her.”

    “Yeah, for once that Jao time sense could come in handy,” Caitlin quipped.

    When the meeting finally happened, Caitlin decided to follow Jao flow patterns by letting the attendees enter the big conference room before she came in preceded by her primary body guards Tamt and Caewithe and her husband.

    Only to the humans would it possibly have seemed strange that Ed Kralik was at the table for what was Caitlin’s meeting. To the Jao, the fact that he was Caitlin’s husband was immaterial. What mattered to them was he was the commander of Ares Base, and not incidentally and perhaps even more importantly, he was in the service of Aille krinnu ava Terra, governor of Terra and first kochan-father of Terra taif. In every way but one the base commander was the political and social equal of his wife. So he sat at the table by right.

    The one way in which Ed was subordinate to Caitlin was the same reason she had been the one to call the meeting and why she entered the room last in the Jao manner: she alone had oudh over the search effort. Crusade might be a better word for it. But effort or crusade, regardless of what it was called, she alone was the leader, reporting directly to Preceptor Ronz, member of the strategy circle of the Jao Bond of Ebezon, the organization that stood as parent kochan to the cubling Terra taif. In this she perhaps even surpassed her service to Aille.

    Caitlin suppressed those thoughts, along with an attendant shiver, as she took her seat between Ed and Wrot. She looked around the room. All the fleet’s senior officers were there, including Tully and his executive officer and first sergeant. There were a few additional people in the room from the base staff: a senior Lleix elder named Narso from the Starsifters elian sat flanked by Brakan and Matto of the fleet’s staff, and another elder named Gram was seated with Ramt of Ekhatlore. Pyr and Lim sat for Terralore, ignored by the Starsifters and somewhat acknowledged by Ekhatlore. Caitlin made a mental note that their plans for the integration of the members of the Lleix dochaya ghetto-class into mainstream Lleix society seemed to be lagging behind their integration into human/Jao society. If the Lleix elders weren’t careful, they were going to lose them. The liberated dochaya members would assimilate into the Terra taif and leave the skeleton of Lleix society behind them.

    She set that thought aside, with a note to return to it later, and tapped her finger on the table. The low murmur of side conversations halted, and everyone looked her way.

    “In the absence of a directive from the Bond of Ebezon,” Caitlin began, “we will continue with the search.”

    Heads nodded, and postures of willing assent were seen all around the room.

    “But the efforts of the last two years have almost conclusively proven that we will not fulfill our search here in the Orion Arm.”

    She looked around the room to drive home her next point.

    “I have oudh over this. I have decided. We will not continue our search here in the Orion arm. We will go elsewhere.”

    Silence. No one spoke, although Jao after Jao adopted obedience to directives as their posture.

    “In our last meeting, it was proposed that the search move to the Sagittarius Arm.” Caitlin turned to the Starsifters. “You said that you would provide information as to possible Frame Jump paths between the two arms.” She sat back in her seat and crossed her arms, visibly turning the focus of the meeting to the Lleix.

    Narso, the base Starsifter elder, needed no further encouragement. He stood to speak, and his aureole flared to its greatest extent.

    “We have gathered all information from Lleix records and Terra taif databases and mapped three possible routes,” he began. He gestured to Matto, who ran his fingers across a com pad. A holographic projection flared into view above the table with three different colored lines snaking between bands of stars that were obviously the Orion and Sagittarius Arms, and had labels to validate that assumption.

    “They all share one common step,” Narso continued as a ring appeared around the point at which the lines diverged. “The first sun outward is what Terrans call a Class M7 star. It is a red giant, which ordinarily would be a good target star for this kind of Framepoint jump, because the photosphere would be somewhat tenuous. However, this particular star is also a variable star of the IS class by the humans. Unfortunately, there are insufficient astrographical records available from Jao, Lleix, or Terrans to reliably determine its pulsation period or its pulsation extremes. And there is enough interstellar dust between us to interfere with precise observations. In short, we are not certain just how regular or irregular its symmetry becomes.”

    Caitlin noted that most of the Jao in the room had shifted to angles indicating concern, unease, or even in a couple of cases, alarm. She shifted her own position to confidence in adversity. “I am not an astronomer, Elder Narso,” she said. “Explain this in common language I can understand, please.”

    Narso’s aureole fluttered. “That will not be very precise, Director.”

    “I can live with that,” Caitlin said. “Continue.”

    “If the pathfinder ship emerges when the star is in extreme contraction, they are at substantial risk of emerging in depths of plasma that will overwhelm its shields and destroy it. Similar risks exist if the star’s spherical symmetry is distorted and the ship emerges in a portion of the star that is still contracted.”

    The humans in the room had expressions ranging anywhere from worried to appalled. Caitlin didn’t look at Ed; she knew what his concern would be.

    “Can you put a quantification on that risk?” Caitlin asked. “Ten percent? Fifty percent? Somewhere in-between?”

    Narso looked to Brakan and Matto, then back to Caitlin. “We . . . are uncertain.”

    Caitlin sat up straighter. The Lleix elians seldom admitted to less than absolute certainty. That followed right behind their insistence on consensus. To have an elder say this in a public forum indicated there were deep divisions within the Starsifters who had been involved in their discussions.

    “So give me the range,” she said.

    Narso’s aureole flattened in distress. “We have so little good data,” he began.

    “Then give me a guess!” Caitlin snapped.

    Narso looked to Matto, who fingered his com pad again. A chart appeared in the holographic projection, obscuring part of the star field.

    “The most favorable estimate is a ten percent risk,” Narvo said in a low tone.

    “That’s not too bad,” Caitlin began, only to be interrupted by the Lleix elder.

    “The least favorable was in excess of thirty percent.”

    That almost choked Caitlin. A one-in-three chance of losing each ship? That was a no-go.

    “That’s too high a risk.” She looked to Dannet. “How can we reduce that?”

    The Fleet Commander gave her a direct gaze, angles sloping into accepting responsibility. “We send a pathfinder ship through. If it survives the trip, it stays in the system for several days making observations, then returns a message ship to the fleet with the observations which allows us to pick the times of least risk to make the jumps.”

    “And if it doesn’t survive?”

    Dannet’s angles morphed through gratified-respect to aspire-to-be-of-service. “Then we send another pathfinder through.”

    That thought caused Caitlin’s stomach to churn. The thought of ordering Jao and humans to such a horrible death was not one she welcomed. But it would work; she admitted that. Sooner or later, a ship would survive and return the needed data.

    “Is there another star we can use for the first link in the chain?”

    Narso shook his head, something the Lleix had adapted from the humans, much as the Jao had also done.

    “No, Director. All other reachable stars lead to routes where the overall risk in the chain of jumps is greater than through this one.”

    Caitlin looked down at where her hands rested on the table, one bracing her com pad and one loosely holding a stylus, for all the world as if she were not involved in a discussion involving almost certain death for members of her fleet staff. She took a deep breath, held it for a moment, and felt her nostrils flare as she released it.

    “Very well. Continue with the presentation.”

    The discussion that followed took the better part of half an hour. Caitlin followed most of it, but still felt a bit at sea as far as knowing which was best. She kicked herself when she realized that the only ones talking at that point were humans and Lleix. The Jao had been silent for some time, and Dannet’s angles were hinting of impatient irritation. And that provided both an answer and some relief. She sat up and tapped the table. All voices stopped; all eyes turned to her.

    “Fleet Commander Dannet, have you heard enough?”

    “Yes,” Dannet growled.

    “Is the flight possible with our current ships?”

    “Yes.”

    “Have you made your decision as to the path to take?”

    “Yes.”

    “Then this part of the discussion is over. Thank you, Elder Narso.”

    The Lleix elder continued to stand for a moment, as if not certain what had just happened. Brakan made a slight coughing sound, and the elder inclined his head and resumed his seat.

    “Fleet Commander, in the previous meeting Krant-Captain Mallu indicated that a leading ship would have to make the first jump, and it would then serve as an anchor point for the other ships as they made their own jumps.” Caitlin’s voice was calm. She focused her mind on that calmness, as she schooled her body to present considering-choices. It took some effort. “You said a few minutes ago that we would need to send a pathfinder ship. Is that still the preferred approach?”

    The ship captains, Jao all, said nothing but looked at Fleet Commander Dannet, whose ears moved to flag resolution as she said, “It is the only approach until the Frame Network can be extended.”

    “Then who is the pathfinder?” Caitlin asked. “One of the Lexingtons? Or do we wait for something else?” Her stomach started churning again, and she drummed her fingers on the table, which startled the Lleix present. They abhorred any form of patterned noise, linking it to the Ekhat and their dreaded songs. Caitlin sighed and stilled her fingers, taking up a posture of quiet-receptiveness-to-information.

    Some of the Jao in the room looked at her as if she had mouthed nonsense. The rest looked to the fleet commander.

    “Ban Chao,” Dannet said. “The ram ship design was based on a Jao pathfinder design, but was made larger, tougher, and stronger. Ton for ton, Ban Chao has the strongest hull and the most powerful shields in the fleet, though it is somewhat lighter armed than the battleships.”

    Vanta-Captain Ginta krinnu vau Vanta flicked an ear and then sloped his shoulders in recognition-of-duty. His kochan was allied with the great Dano. He would not be seen to shirk a reasonable opportunity to be of use. That would shame both Dano and Vanta. “Yes,” he said, “that does make sense. We will only take minimal crew, though. There is no point in risking trained lives unnecessarily. The assault troops we normally carry should off-load to the other ships.”

    “Not happening,” Tully said, his face flushed beneath his tan.

    All the Jao at the table glanced sharply at him, their body angles speaking of disbelief and irritation. Ed Kralik stirred beside Caitlin. She looked over at him as he spoke. “Colonel Tully is right,” he said. “We have no idea what the Ban Chao will jump into. We have no idea what military technologies you might encounter. You could be attacked as soon as you come out of the jump, and you won’t have a way out. That being the case, I’d say you should jump loaded for bear.”

    Caitlin saw most of the Jao were confused by his metaphor. “You’re saying that Ban Chao should be loaded with every troop and every weapon that we can possibly load aboard her before she jumps, even the jump into this variable star.”

    “Damn straight!” Tully replied instantly.

    “Correct,” Ed said in support. “It will risk the jinau, but better to risk them and not need them than to leave them behind and find out you need them after all. As commander of Ares Base and commander of all Terra taif jinau, it may or may not be within my oudh to order it, but if it doesn’t happen you will not want to deal with me.”

    Caitlin looked at her husband. What she saw was Lieutenant General Kralik directing his eagle’s gaze at everyone else in the room.

    Dannet stirred, angles flowing into something that Caitlin translated as agreement-with-no-brainer. She couldn’t remember the exact Jao name at the moment, but that was what it meant.

    “General Kralik is right,” the fleet commander said, “Ban Chao will take full crew and troop load and as much extra weapon load as can be squeezed into it.”

    “All right,” Caitlin said. She looked at Tully. “Make sure you have everything you need before you jump. It will be a bit difficult to send back for anything you forget.”

    “Grandmothers and eggs, Caitlin,” Tully responded, tapping notes into his com pad.

    Tully’s face had lit with glee at the fleet commander’s pronouncement. Tully’s repressed energy was about to blow a fuse. The man was-crazy, Caitlin thought. He liked to be in the vanguard, seeing what was happening. He was infernally curious. That often got him into trouble, but occasionally gave him great successes. “All right,” she said, “but you have to promise not to get killed.”

    Vanta-Captain Ginta looked at her sharply. He was a well-made individual with reddish gold nap and a heavily marked vai camiti composed of three stolid thick lines. “Humans can promise such positive outcomes?”

    “They can,” she said, “and then do their dead level best to make sure they keep their word.#8221;

    “I won’t let them kill me,” Tully said, “and if they do, you can dock my pay.”

    Ginta’s ears flattened in blatant bafflement. “If you are dead, you will not care about your pay.”

    “Right,” Tully said. He winked. “Are we done here? I’ve got work to do now.”

    Caitlin considered for a moment, working around the yawning gulf in the pit of her stomach. This was a decision with much larger repercussions that anything she had faced before. But all things considered, there was no choice. Not to do this would fail their people. She thought of the Ekhat, and her resolve firmed.

    “Yes,” Caitlin said, “it is decided and directed. The fleet will jump as soon as Fleet Commander Dannet is convinced we are ready. The Ban Chao will lead the way.” She tapped the table. “Make it happen, people.”

    With that, she stood and, in keeping with her use of Jao protocol, waited for her bodyguards and her husband to precede her out of the conference room.

    As she walked through the door, she heard Tully saying, “All right! Now the fun begins.”

    On the way back to her quarters, Caewithe Miller walked next to Caitlin.

    “I thought Tully told me once that we are in the Sagittarius Arm of the galaxy,” the guard captain said. “How can we be moving to the Sagittarius Arm?”

    “I thought the same thing, myself,” Caitlin responded, “at least for a little while. Bad information from a news program, I’m afraid. We and the Jao are actually in the Orion arm. We got it straightened out before long, fortunately before we embarrassed ourselves too badly.”

    A few more steps down the corridor, then, “What was with Tully just now?” Caewithe asked. “Why was he fighting to be on the Ban Chao? He’ll just be in the way.”

    “Tully’s got an insatiable urge to be at the leading edge of everything,” Caitlin said. “Aille understands. That’s why he was off in the mountains with the rebels half the time. He’ll make something positive out of this situation, you’ll see.”

    “Bleeding edge will be more like it,” the younger woman muttered, and her cheeks were flushed.

    Caitlin studied her as they walked. She knew their history as an on-again/off-again couple. “Tully never had a family. He was an orphaned rebel camp brat, surviving as best he could on what he could steal. If he told the truth twice a day, it was an accident. He was spying on the Jao when Aille ran across him, for God’s sake, which would have led to a swift execution if anyone else had detected him. If he didn’t live his life at this sort of fever pitch, he would have been dead long ago.”

    “Yeah, I figured that out a while ago,” Caewithe said. “That’s why I finally broke it off with him. He’s fun for a time, but I can’t make a life with an adrenaline junkie.”

    Caitlin gave her surprised guard captain a hug around the shoulders. “I could tell it hadn’t worked out,” Caitlin said, “but I didn’t know why. I really wish it had, though. I like both of you guys, and you would have been a great couple.”

    Caewithe shrugged. “I really like Tully, too, but living with him would be like living with a hand grenade with the pin pulled. I couldn’t do it. So I let him go while we were still friends.”

    “I’m not what you would call experienced at this stuff,” Caitlin said with a wry grin, “not with my background, but I’d say that was probably a wise decision. No sense in destroying your friendship over something if it never had a chance at success.”

    “Nope.”

    They walked in silence for a few moments, taking the next left and then the next right. Caitlin looked at her guard captain out of the corner of her eye. “So, you started looking yet?”

    Caewithe gave a snort. “Got right to that point, didn’t you?” She laughed as Caitlin started to sputter. “It’s okay, it’s okay. Actually, if you want to know, Lieutenant Vaughan is starting to look interesting. And I love that Welsh accent.”

    “Good,” Caitlin said as they reached her quarters. Caewithe and Tamt took up their posts by the door. “You just smile at him and use that Alabama drawl of yours.”

    “Standard southern belle practice,” Caewithe said with a grin. “Been using it on Yankees for generations; hasn’t failed us yet.”

    After the door closed, Tamt looked over at Caewithe. “I’ll take the post and call up one of the other guards. Lieutenant Vaughan said something about going to the officer’s pool.”

    Caewithe thought about it for a moment. She had a swimsuit . . . yeah, it would work. “Thanks, Tamt. I’ll owe you one.”

    The burly Jao guard just waved her on.