And I am going to send them all to hell.
Chapter Thirty-Eight. SPINWARD TROJANS, BD +02 4076 TWO (“DISPARITY”) and CLOSE ORBIT, V 1581 FOUR
Nezdeh purposely seated herself next to Sehtrek, which put her directly across the table from Idrem. She did not want to manage the distraction of sitting alongside Idrem, or the possibility that she might absentmindedly reach out toward him. This is one of the reasons the Progenitors warn that romantic love is the seed of all weakness. It creates reflexes that we must control, and that, therefore, distract us from optimizing the realization of our individual will to dominion. “Let us begin,” she said.
Sehtrek raised an eyebrow. “Shall we not wait for the others, Nezdeh?”
“I have not informed others of this discussion. It would not be prudent to pull them away from their stations.” Which was, she knew, a pretext so threadbare that Sehtrek would see straight through it to her real reason: to eliminate the ultimately unproductive output of the lesser intellects among her crew. But that could not be admitted openly. To do so would be to imply that Sehtrek, an Intendant who was not even designated for Elevation, was more intelligent and capable than many of Nezdeh’s fellow Evolved.
Tegrese chose that moment to enter the small briefing and ready room. “So, here you are.” She sat. “I was told by Ulpreln that he suspected there was a meeting in progress.”
Nezdeh looked at her.
Tegrese returned the stare. Her puzzlement transformed into a frown. “I am off duty,” she explained.
Of course you are. And of course this had to be the one time you did not sleep or mate or train during your off-hours. She repressed a sigh. “I saw no reason to disturb you. And you need not remain.”
Tegrese shrugged. “But I shall do so. I am eager to learn of our next steps.”
“This is to be a quick meeting. There will be little time for any input.”
Tegrese’s frown was short-lived. “Understandable.”
Nezdeh turned to Sehtrek. “You have accumulated one hundred hours of data on the planet and the objects orbiting it. What recommendations do you make?”
“That we make a carefully timed ground attack within the week, presuming that there are no further changes to the battlespace.”
“There have already been changes?” Tegrese had not been at the table for a minute and was already beginning to burden the process. Nezdeh glanced at Idrem, who was attempting to suppress — a smile? Yes, there was an amusing irony to Tegrese’s arrival, Nezdeh allowed, despite the annoyance.
Sehtrek touched his beltcom. Between the silver spider-leg tines of its holographic projector, a representation of the Slaasriithi planet rotated, three small dots keeping pace at equidistant points along a shared orbit. “A new defense sphere was launched. It occupies the same orbital spot as the one we destroyed four days ago.”
“Meaning there could be more.”
“Almost certainly so, Idrem. Although I am surprised that it took them this long to launch a replacement.”
Nezdeh shook her head. “The Slaasriithi are not at all dominion-oriented and, so far as we can determine, do not have wars. This far within their domain, a prompt defense replenishment system may be an afterthought. But they are not stupid; if they have more defense spheres in their local inventory, we must expect that they will now be ready to deploy them more rapidly.”
Sehtrek nodded. “Agreed. Which means that the harder of the two targets we must engage are the Aboriginals who landed on the planet. We must penetrate the cannonball defense, find the targets, neutralize them, and then return to orbit.”
Idrem nodded. “Brenlor sent us a tight-beam update half an hour ago. He estimates that the additional landers we require for the assault will arrive here in eight days.”
“The sooner the better. The Slaasriithi shift carrier is probably no more than four days away from making shift. Consequently, a response force from Beta Aquilae could arrive here within two weeks. We need to have concluded our operations and be well into our preacceleration phase by then.”
Tegrese gestured at the cannonballs orbiting the image of the planet. “It would be helpful to have the Arbitrage’s navigational laser array on hand when we confront the cannonballs again. It would make short work of them, even at extreme range.”
Sehtrek nodded patiently. “Helpful, yes, but the enemy sensors, of which there seem to be an almost inexhaustible number, would detect the approach of Arbitrage days before we could include it in an attack. That would prompt the Slaasriithi to launch more cannonballs, or undertake different strategies that could complicate our primary objective: to find and eliminate the planetside Aboriginals.”
Nezdeh steepled her fingers. “So, we will watch the cannonballs’ orbital patterns, crack a hole in those defenses using Lurker’s firepower, and then send one of our landers through that hole to locate and neutralize the Aboriginals on the surface.”
Idrem’s eyes drifted to a yellow triangle that was closer to the image of the planet, looping around it in an uneven, wobbling orbit. “So, when do you envision eliminating the other Aboriginal craft?”
Sehtrek had evidently thought the question to be addressed to him. “I do not know that we must, Idrem. It has shown no power output and its orbit continues to decay. As an added precaution, I have projected attack times during which it would be on the other side of the planet, should it retain some combat capability.”
Idrem folded his arms. “Although it shows no power that we can discern at this range, the ship in question — a Commonwealth Wolfe-class corvette — has reasonable capacitors.”
“Capacitors are useless without a working power plant,” Tegrese asserted. “There is never even residual heat to suggest that they powered up while out of the field of our sensors.”
Idrem stared at her near-insolence. “Most versions of the Wolfe-class are fitted with retractable solar panels. They can maintain minimal power by recharging the ship’s batteries.”
“As it might be doing now,” Nezdeh concluded.
“Or it may simply be the lifeless wreck it seems to be.” Tegrese’s comment doubled Nezdeh’s annoyance.
Idrem intervened. “We know the craft was significantly damaged. Time will help us further determine its status. And if their orbit decays to the point where they start entering the atmosphere, they are finished, even if there are survivors aboard.”
Nezdeh nodded her agreement. “Happily, we need not confirm the status of the Aboriginal craft before we commence our operations. Once we have removed a cannonball to open a landing window, Red Lurker will continue to track both the remaining two cannonballs and the Aboriginal wreck whenever their orbit puts them within sight of our sensors. If the wreck attempts to challenge Lurker in any way, we will be able to destroy it, even from our standoff position.”
Tegrese shrugged. “If you are so fearful of it, then why not strike now and eliminate this troublesome variable?”
Sehtrek’s tone was careful and very patient as he pointed out what should have been obvious. “The present range of engagement is far too great for us to be assured of success, and a renewed attack may bring more cannonballs after us. At any rate, it would not only reveal our presence but our position, depriving us of the surprise we need for our planetary assault.”
“Very well. But what of the ground target? Isn’t it possible that the shuttle crashed? That all the Aboriginals are dead?” Tegrese was asking the questions Nezdeh had feared she’d ask: questions that she, Idrem, and Sehtrek had already considered and answered.