5
Supply and Demand
The Struvian behemoth turned and headed back to where it had first encountered the Frontier, drawing some reactions of confusion from the TSC command center’s staff. The most popular guess was that the ship was returning to the spot where it had already probed and taken a pot shot at the Frontier. On the upside, the ship was back within visible range of the Galileo array, so they again had a video feed to watch the ship with.
Mike suddenly went into “Mister President” mode, his expression changing from concern to resolve. He tapped his friend on the shoulder. “I’d like to open comms with that ship. See if maybe I can talk them into a more diplomatic approach than to rush up on us and try to break through our defense layer.”
The Admiral pondered this for a moment and then called a communications officer to the bridge. “Not a bad idea. I take it you want to try that linuga-file?”
“Yep. No sense in trying this if they won’t understand me.”
The additional comms officer arrived, and was briefed on the situation. His task was to help orchestrate the communication attempt from one of the conference rooms attacked to the command center. Comms officer and President headed toward the landing near the elevators and then turned into the room.
Inside the conference room, each headed to the opposing side of the conference table that dominated the room’s center. The comms officer handed Mike a microphone and transmitter pack and then turned his attention to setting up a small camera and display panel on a stand on the far side of the table, while the President worked out where to clip the transmitter and how best to route the tie-clip microphone’s cable. Once both men had completed their setup work and the comms officer confirmed with the communications control officer in the command center that he had a good feed, he let the President know that they only needed his go-ahead. The President tapped the lone button on his comm. badge.
“President Talmondson to TSC comms control, ready to hail the Struvian ship.”
“Roger that, sir. Hailing them now,” came the reply, through the comm. badge.
After what seemed an eternity, but was in reality only about ten seconds, the comm. badge woke back up. “TSC comms control to President Talmondson, we have a reply from the Struvian ship. Patching you through now. On five… four… three… two…”
The comms officer working the camera waved the last second and starting cue to the President, and he began.
“Struvian capital ship, this is Terran Starfleet Command. I am Michael Talmondson, president of the United Federation of Earth, of which Terran Starfleet is a part. Since we have never spoken, I must express my concern at your recent actions. I wish to discuss your firing on our perimeter defenses, and inquire if we can seek a peaceful resolution to whatever issues you feel are worth weapons fire. I welcome the opportunity to talk to you in a spirit of peace.”
The President glanced at the comms officer, who then tapped a button and said, “muted.”
The President continued staring into the camera, occasionally glancing at the comms officer, while they waited. He hoped that by continuing to transmit a live image feed to the Struvian ship he would convey that he did indeed want to talk about the attack on the Frontier with the aggressor ship.
A few uncomfortable moments passed.
Suddenly the President’s comm. badge activated. “TSC comms control to President Talmondson, we have a return feed from the Struvian ship. They’re hailing. Patching through to your display…”
The display mounted just below the small camera winked to life to display what the President assumed was a Struvian and hoped was the commanding officer of the capital ship.
The Struvian was roughly humanoid, as Terrans had discovered most sentient races are. They appeared to be pretty similar to Terran humans, but the skin tone was more bluish in tone and smoother, almost rubber-like in texture. Scale was difficult to determine but the height and build also appeared to be humanoid. The Struvian’s hair was a darker shade of blue. All in all, the President was reminded of the blue aliens shown in ancient television shows.
The Struvian spoke, its native language being translated in real time and a superimposed translation playing through the display’s speakers. “President Talmondson, I am Galak Nor, High Commander of the Struvian capital ship T'Vor-Lankh. I must say I find it surprising that you have the ability to translate our language.” The depth of the Struvian’s voice, as indicated by the faint original language played along with the translated, suggested that this Struvian was their equivalent of an adult male.
The President slowly smiled, lips closed so as to not expose teeth in case that was an aggressive action in their culture. “I appreciate your willingness to talk with me. I am very concerned that we Terrans have somehow caused an incident that warrants such an aggressive response. My task is to discover what this is and correct it so that our people will have no reason to fight. What can I do to assist?”
The Struvian blinked, as if surprised. “I am not aware of any such incidents, although I fear this is about to change.” As he said this, the Struvian commander smiled, exposing teeth. Apparently Struvians were omnivores, as the dental work exposed was about the same as what an adult human has. The bluish pigmentation was also present in the teeth, which were very faintly blue.
The President was not overly thrilled with the expression change, and a sense of foreboding crept into his politically experienced heart. There was a bad vibe emanating from the Struvian commander, like he was about to spring some bad news. The Struvian commander noted the slight shift in the President’s demeanor, and continued.
“The Struvian High Council has dispatched the T'Vor-Lankh to collect needed resources from this star system. We have a high demand for certain raw materials that are in short supply on our world. We have the demand but lack the supply.”
The President relaxed, but only slightly. “Excellent, we can help each other. One of our major goals is the establishment of trade of goods, services, and information with neighboring worlds. If you seek resources we can most certainly discuss trade agreements, and if you are in desperate need of materials in a short timeframe we would be happy to help.”
“I fear you do not understand Struvian resource acquisition practices,” interrupted the Struvian commander. “We do not trade with anyone. We take. And once there is no more to take, we destroy. We are a proud people – we will not resort to barter to solve our problems.”
The President thought this confusing. “If you do not trade with your neighbors, how have you provided the resources you needed in the past? Surely you did not invade and destroy all your neighbor systems.”
“Yes, we did. We have emptied planets in nine unpopulated systems and have destroyed life on planets in another five systems. Yours is the only remaining system in this region of space that possesses the resources we seek.”
The President found the candid nature of the Struvian commander’s revelation of previous acts of aggression disturbing. “Did any of these systems resist?”
“They all resisted, sometimes to the last creature. This does not matter. We take, and then we destroy. Resisting only delays the inevitable.”
The President’s demeanor shifted again, this time to finely controlled aggression. His eyes started to show that narrowed, beady look a person gets just before they try to break your face. “Although we still offer your people the opportunity to begin a peaceful relationship, you must realize that my people will fight to protect themselves.”
“Of course. That, too, does not matter. You lack the technology needed to stop us. We will take, then we will destroy.” The matter-of-fact posture the Struvian commander displayed showed that it was perfectly normal for a Struvian to be the winner of any and all conflicts. This was a being that was used to winning. It also indicated to the President that this fellow was going to have a go at making good on what he had said, no matter what the President said to dissuade him.
The President sighed audibly, and then leaned forward on the table, hands clasped in front of him. “We will fight to protect ourselves. However, we will ONLY fight to protect ourselves. If, at any time, you wish to reconsider and discuss a peaceful solution to your resource problem, I would welcome you. I will instruct my people to allow you safe passage out of the system at any time, should you decide to leave. If you wish to leave in peace we will permit this and not pursue.”
The Struvian blinked again. He clearly didn’t expect the recipient of a “we’re going to rape and then obliterate your system” threat to still give the attacker an out. “I appreciate your sentiments, but as I said they do not matter. This protective cocoon you have built will not stop us.” With that, the Struvian waved at someone off-camera. “Goodbye, President Talmondson.”
The screen went blank, and then displayed a UFE/TSC background with the words “Transmission ended” in the center. “We’re clear,” added the comms officer manning the camera.
At the same instant, the President’s comm. badge fired up, startling both men in the conference room. Carl’s voice flooded the room, and he was very excited about something. “Hey Mike, you’d better get in here.”
The President, with comms officer in tow, exited the conference room to see chaos in the command center. Mike finished removing the microphone, handed it and the transmitter pack to the comms officer, and walked quickly toward the Admiral, who was himself a picture of controlled madness as he literally dashed from console to console.
“What’d I miss?”
“You’re gonna LOVE this,” said the Admiral, in a tone of voice that indicated that what he had just dealt with might have been related to what the President had just discussed. “They fired at the Frontier again. Gimme a status update on the Frontier!” he shouted to the appropriate officer, who was typing like mad on a keypad.
“Six FSGs are borderline and in self-repair mode, eighteen FSGs moderately damaged. Blast energy dispersed across 11,843 FGSs. Nine FGSs overloaded from the dispersion but weren’t damaged. The Frontier is still closed but won’t take another hit that strong,” came the reply. The officer didn’t so much as slow down in his manic typing while reading off the stats.
“Well, I can do you one better. They’re here to strip-mine the system and destroy everything they can’t use,” added the President. This revelation stopped everyone in the command center in his or her tracks.
“I take it you offered a trade pact and they said ‘no’?” offered the Admiral, a new wave of concern replacing the previous on his face.
“Of course. According to their commander they don’t trade – ever. The Struvian commander’s body language suggested that they aren’t used to losing, either.”
“Great. Just what we need. We’re gonna have to prep for battle I assume?”
“His exact words were ‘resistance only delays the inevitable.’”
“Hmph. Well, hmm…” The Admiral’s face showed that a large number of thoughts were fighting for equal time. He called his executive officer over and started reading off orders in a hurry. “Get a fleet location report and get hold of the Doomsday. Get the Endeavor and Intrepid on the line and see if they’re able to mobilize for a possible combat-support station. Also, put the word out for all non-coms to get clear of this half of the system in case we have a major war break out.” The word “war” made everyone’s feet skip a step and heart skip a beat.
The X.O. trotted over to the comms console and started relaying orders to the officer seated there, and both got to work. The Admiral shouted to the X.O. some extra orders, causing him to turn his head to the Admiral, “Get hold of the Tech people at UFE headquarters while you’re at it. We might need whatever firepower they have working.” The X.O. nodded and turned back to the comms officer.
The telemetry officer interrupted the conversation. “Sir the ship’s on the move again. They’re backing up.”
All eyes turned to the Galileo video feed, which indeed showed the giant capital ship retreating. But something about the retreat felt wrong – the ship was pointed directly at the same spot it had previously fired on, and was backing straight away from it. The Galileo feed zoomed out as the ship moved, so that both ship and Frontier edge remained visible as one put some distance between itself and the other.
“What the hell are they up to?” asked both President and Admiral at the same time. They stared at each other, both thinking that in another place and time that would have warranted a laugh.
“They planning to ram the Frontier?” asked the President.
“The Frontier’s weakened, but not weakened enough that they can just punch through,” the Admiral replied. This confirmed what the President was thinking.
As they watched, the massive capital ship pulled back for a bit, and when it got a sufficient distance away it stopped.
“How far did they back up?” called the Admiral to the telemetry officer.
“Fifty thousand miles, give or take,” came the reply. At the zoom setting the Galileo feed was using, the ship was a small white speck and the curvature of the Frontier as it wrapped around the system could faintly be seen.
The ship stayed in its new position, and the eerie lack of any action was disturbing in and of itself. The feeling of dilated time was tangible, as if seconds were drawn out into minutes.
“Launch warning!” shouted an officer at one of the sensor consoles. “Bogey just fired an unidentified, headed right for the Frontier. Impact in ten seconds.” On the Galileo feed a smaller dot streaked from the small dot that was the ship.
“What is it?” asked the Admiral, concerned by yet another unpleasant surprise. This was getting to be too much.
“Looks like a missile of some sort. Impact in five… four… three… two… one…”
The Galileo feed flushed white, causing everyone watching it to cover his or her eyes as if trying to fend off a fireball.