Broken Stars (Universe on Fire Book 1), page 5
She turned from the window and looked at him. “We could’ve built more, if we managed to get a few more facilities up and running…”
Leon shook his head. “We’re incredibly lucky already that they haven’t noticed the facilities that we do have. They have a sensor grid around the planet, and their inspections are thorough.”
“We could’ve made them in Ethorria…”
“The treaty we have with the Ethorrians forbids any such facility. We could’ve risked it… but frankly if the Ethorrians wanted us out of their land they could push us out easily. Their magic is formidable,” Leon said. He knew that they were lucky that they hadn’t been discovered up until now. The Qash’vo’tar had detected the power draw that had happened when the experiment that ultimately created the portal went wrong. And it was only by luck that they had managed to hide the portal itself from the Qash’vo’tar’s inspections. Thanks in part to the fact that the Qash’vo’tar inspectors hated going underground in the power generating factories, which made them feel claustrophobic. They had lied and said that the section that the portal currently occupied had caved in, and the Qash’vo’tar didn’t bother to check for themselves. They didn’t care about it, they only cared that Earth not attempt to reach space.
“If we lose,” the Admiral said, “they will retaliate, and harshly.”
Leon shuddered. He was young the last time the UEC defied the Qash’vo’tar, but he remembered watching on the screens as their warship dropped rocks on populated areas. “We will win,” he said, as much to convince himself as her. They had a chance, if their analysts and projections were correct. They had studied the few scans and recordings of the Qash’vo’tar warship in action that they had, and were fairly certain that their projections about their capabilities were correct. Coupled with their scientists’ assurances that the Qash’vo’tar didn’t have anything like the fighters the UEF was about to field against them, this meant that they should have an advantage.
The development teams agreed that purely technological built fighters were impossible. The UESF had devised a way to dampen the effects of acceleration, the first iteration of the device had been present on the Humanity’s Gift. But such devices required an enormous amount of energy, and were impossible to scale down to a size where they would be usable by a fighter. It would take a power source great enough to power a much larger ship to power such a device, and the size and power of a fighter were not sufficient. Any intelligent race would’ve abandoned that line of thought as soon as they realized that they would never be able to get it done.
Nor would they have a need to. Space was vast, chances were any hostile ships would be seen long before they would be in the range to open fire. And anything as small as a fighter would not be able to have such a large engagement window, they would be reliant on other ships. Why waste space and resources on fighters that would most certainly have an almost impossible chance of getting close enough to another ship, when you could invest in more weapons and defenses for your larger ships? The UEF had some idea about how good the Qash’vo’tar point defense system was—after all none of Earth’s missiles had managed to reach their warship before being turned to slag. The traditional fighter groups were impractical in space combat for a long list of reasons.
Or they had been, until magic. Now the UEF believed that there was an advantage to using them. The teleportation spell and the gravity nullification spell were the two things that made the UEF fighters possible, and were what gave them an advantage. The nullification spell allowed the pilots to survive the extreme acceleration and maneuvering that fighters would need, and the teleportation spell allowed them to close the distance and confuse the target’s point defense. There were other things of course, some Earth tech, adapted spell-scripts and magitech systems. But hopefully all those put together would be enough.
And there was no way that the Qash’vo’tar could have anything like the teleportation spell. They would be faced with something new. And the UEC needed that surprise and confusion to be enough to overcome the difference in technology and experience.
“We will win,” Leon told his old friend finally. “We have no other choice.”
CHAPTER FOUR
Bahrar Ehji of the Patrol Fleet’s light cruiser Unity of Purpose sat in his command chair on the ship’s bridge and watched the screens in front of him raptly. They were just exiting the wormhole and entering into a new system after four weeks of travel from the border of Qash’vo’tar territory. Their travel time was of course not indicative of the time that had passed in real space, with almost four months passing while they were inside the wormhole.
When he had been informed of his promotion and transfer to the Patrol Fleet he had rejoiced, it was a respected position. And that he had been given command of a cruiser had been a great honor, a clear sign that his superiors had noticed and valued his skill. He had hoped to be placed on the Hazari war front, but of course his level of experience was not high enough nor were his aptitude test scores. Instead he had been placed on the other side of Qash’vo’tar territory—the neutral zone—the empty stretch of stars that served as buffer territory between the Qash’vo’tar and the cursed Zhal Confederation. A zone which neither of the two civilizations were allowed to colonize as agreed upon in the Compact the two had signed long ago when their two factions had split from each other in the wake of the war against the Apostates.
It was a boring assignment, most of it was following a strict schedule, patrolling the systems in the zone close to the Qash’vo’tar border and making sure that no Zhal Confederation colonization or military assets were there, as that would be a clear violation of the Compact. Occasionally they would meet a Zhal Confederation patrol ship, doing the same thing. Those rare encounters were the highlights of the assignment, when they did happen. And they were just a brisk and short exchange, following the protocol for such encounters to the letter, and the two ships then going their separate ways—the Compact preserved.
Then, after the first few months patrolling the neutral zone, his ship had been summoned back to the Qash’vo’tar border and the homebase for the Patrol Fleet. There he had been offered a top secret mission, and already bored from his patrol duties he had jumped at the opportunity. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have. After he had gone through a rigorous questioning that served to reaffirm his loyalty to the Qash’vo’tar, he had signed dozens of documents that stated he would never be allowed to speak of any aspect of the mission, on penalty of death by the ruling council. And once he had learned that the mission was inside the neutral zone he had convinced himself that the Qash’vo’tar had secret assets in clear violation of the Compact. In his own opinion that was not such a bad thing, the philosophies that governed the two powers were too different for both to survive so close together.
His cruiser had been attached to a small flotilla, with two other light cruisers and a battle cruiser to escort a cargo ship. And then he had learned the true reason for the mission. Once he had had the time go through all the reports and briefings he had been sick to his stomach. A new race, an entire civilization, had arisen inside the neutral zone and had almost managed to leave its star system before the Qash’vo’tar had stopped them. The neutral zone was vast, filled with thousands upon thousands of systems, it was impossible for all of it to be patrolled regularly, yet he was only glad that the Zhal Confederation hadn’t found them first.
Even a cursory look at the people that called themselves Humans could tell someone like him that they were the very antithesis of Qash’vo’tar. They were far too chaotic, far too oriented on their singularity than the whole. They committed such atrocities and crimes against each other that there was no doubt in Ehji’s mind what kind of neighbors they would have made. They were so far removed from the homogeneous society of Qash’vo’tar that it was almost appalling. How they had managed to survive without killing themselves off was a mystery to him. But they were also far too much like the Zhal Confederation, with their focus on individuals, on conflicting ideas, and their freedoms at the expense of the whole.
There was no way that they could be allowed to make contact with the Zhal Confederation. The people who had drawn out the Compact had clearly never believed that an intelligent race could be found in the zone. After all, the neutral zone was supposed to be a dead zone, a wasteland left by the final war between the Zhal’Qash and the Apostates. It had been the war that had broken the Zhal’Qash, culminating in the collapse and separation of the two major surviving factions within it.
And Human nature resembled that of the Apostates. In many ways it was even worse: the Humans were a race whose very identity was disorder. And Ehji knew that the Zhal Confederation would’ve attempted to uplift them, attempting to make their differences and ideologies a strength for the Confederation, to bind them to them with their strings and promises. And they would’ve done so, had they discovered them first. They still believed in the ideal of Zhal’Qash, the same ones that had doomed the old Zhal’Qash Empire to ruin.
But the Qash’vo’tar had thankfully found them first. Yet now they had a problem. They couldn’t uplift the Humans and have them join the Qash’vo’tar, their nature was contrary to what was required for a race to become a part of Qash’vo’tar. They would never agree to abandon their racial identity, even a short look at their history would make that clear to anyone who entertained such a solution. In truth, Ehji doubted that the Qash’vo’tar leaders even wanted that. The Qash’vo’tar and its whole society was created so that what happened with the Apostates never happened again. And even if they somehow managed to indoctrinate and elevate the Human race, their location would make it impossible for them to exert any real control over them. The Compact was clear. Wiping them out was out of the question as well. Such measures would leave marks that the Zhal Confederation would never overlook, they would know that the Qash’vo’tar had done it and war would follow. But it was also abhorrent and against what it meant to be Qash’vo’tar. They were only buying time by keeping them isolated, while they searched for a solution.
Ehji was not privy to what Qash’vo’tar leadership was thinking, but their options had to be limited. Luck and the size of the neutral zone were the only things that were keeping the Zhal Confederation from finding them, and luck had been the only thing that had allowed the Qash’vo’tar to locate them first. The neutral zone was vast, with thousands upon thousands of systems in it. And both powers only patrolled a tiny section of it, with both sticking to their side of the neutral zone, only venturing toward the center sporadically, and even rarer still to the border of the other side. The Compact was an agreement between the two, but it was also a promise, a pledge, given by both sides. Ehji did not think that either side would violate it on a whim.
But his was not to think on such things, his place in the Fleet was to obey. And the new mission of his cruiser was to relieve the cruiser currently in the orbit of the Human homeworld. He would assume the task of making sure that they did not reach space. He was to report to Dahrar Ajiha and place himself at his command.
As the wormhole closed behind the flotilla, Bahrar Ehji left the command of his ship to his second in command and walked over to his ready room. It would be days yet before they reached the planet, and he still had a lot to learn about the Humans.
***
Dahrar Ajiha looked out of the wide window of his office, gazing at the dark line stretching far into the sky. The construction of a space elevator was something that few races ever accomplished, some because of the cost, others because they never thought of it. It alone was proof enough of Human ingenuity and strength. It also served to solidify Ajiha’s belief that Humanity was dangerous.
The conversation he had had a few weeks ago with the Human liaison still weighed on his mind. Anthony Smith and Ajiha had spent a lot of time together, and the Human had been right, in a way they were something like friends. Or as close to friends as a Qash’vo’tar and a Human could be. He had spent a long time with the humans, watching them, studying them, and he had come to know them very well. There were times when he regretted what his predecessors had done, the way that they had contained the Humans. But he understood why they did it. They were afraid of a race so different from the Qash’vo’tar, a race that resembled the Apostates. A race that was capable of great amount of violence against its own kind. A race that had advanced at a staggering rate.
Letting them grow and become a power in their own right would only serve to make them a threat to the Qash’vo’tar in the future. And if they had been discovered by the Zhal Confederation… Ajiha knew that Humanity would’ve been welcomed there, and they would’ve only grown more powerful for it. The Zhal Confederation was willing to share its knowledge with anyone, as long as they agreed to their loose laws. Their founders had learned nothing from what happened with the Apostates—instead of steadily guiding and shaping the races they uplifted, the Zhal Confederation almost didn’t care as long as they added in some way to their Confederation. Their response to the folly of Zhal’Qash was to give the races they uplifted almost every freedom, far more so than even the Zhal’Qash had.
The Qash’vo’tar had understood the lesson after the war with the Apostates. Differences could not be allowed if a society was to survive and thrive without the danger of schism. Unity of purpose, uniformity of belief, and order were required for survival, and protection from outside threats. And so every race that the Qash’vo’tar had uplifted had been reformed. Ajiha’s own race had been a part of the Zhal’Qash. They had joined the Empire just before its collapse. And they had been through the process of integration. But once the Empire fell, some of those that remained understood that half measures were not enough. And so they abandoned their racial identity, their culture and beliefs and adopted new ones, which in time became the Qash’vo’tar. His people now were nothing like what their ancestors had been. Now they were simply Qash’vo’tar. And there was a strength in that unity. Every person born in the Qash’vo’tar knew that they would have a place in their society. As they grew the Qash’vo’tar would watch over them, and place them in a position uniquely suited for them. They would work for the benefit of them all, finding contentment and fulfillment in the knowledge that Qash’vo’tar would be stronger for their contribution.
But Humans… They were not a race that would ever agree to be uplifted in such a manner, not without a great amount of resources and a terrible cost for the human race. And even then Ajiha knew that it would be hard to purge their basest faults. The Overseers of the Qash’vo’tar were still trying to find a way to deal with the situation. They had acted quickly when they had learned that the Humans had an FTL ship. But in their haste they had acted without thinking things through. They couldn’t destroy them without risking detection from the Zhal Confederation in the future, they couldn’t uplift them without bringing more forces to the Human homeworld, and that itself would risk detection. The Confederation’s spies might not have noticed yet, but such a large move would not go by unnoticed.
Yet at times Ajiha felt like there should be another way. Perhaps they could’ve come to an agreement with the Humans, had his predecessors not acted in the way they had perhaps Ajiha would’ve even suggested it to the Overseers. But that avenue was lost to them now. They were in an unsustainable position. He had precious few resources to keep the humans subdued, and he knew that the only reason they had managed to keep them from reaching for space was because they had control of their sky and the Qash’vo’tar willingness to retaliate against the human population. It sickened Ajiha at times, but he knew that it was necessary. The danger was too great. They couldn’t allow a race as dangerous as them to spread across the stars. It had taken the entire might of the Zhal’Qash to defeat the Apostates and their insane crusade, and that war had left trillions dead, entire worlds which were now wastelands. The neutral zone itself was a reminder of the horror they had unleashed, only because they believed that rule was their right. And Humans had the same tendencies, they had done the same things before. Killed their own kind because they believed that they were chosen, that they were right.
In many ways his time among the Humans had taught him that his people had been right to keep them from spreading from their home system, and in others he had seen a great capacity in them to act for the good of all. They had abandoned their warring ways and had united. Yet even with that their past was not something that could be put aside. Not when even now they warred against each other. Individuals within their ranks sowed discord and bloodshed constantly. At all times around their world crimes were committed and acts of terror unleashed on the innocent. And all for idiotic reasons such as beliefs, greed, and simple malice. And Qash’vo’tar did not tolerate such discord. The Zhal Confederation was already too much like them. Yet in the end, Ajiha knew that their imprisonment was also a political issue, one that the Qash’vo’tar were yet to find an answer to.
A chime brought Dahrar Ajiha’s attention from his musings, and he turned and walked over to his desk. Checking his terminal he saw that the resupply ship and its escorts had arrived in the system. He sent a note to his aide, he wanted to be notified when they reached the planet. It would be best if he met with them in person.
CHAPTER FIVE
Kane walked into a large room, followed closely by the rest of his team. Jane and Jackson were bickering as usual, while Ishanvi kept quiet and alert. They were in one of several hidden military facilities below ground on the Australian continent.
“Ah, Commander Reinhart, welcome.” An m-tech walked up to them as they entered and greeted them. Kane recognized her as one of the m-techs that had briefly worked on the Havoc fighters before being reassigned elsewhere. Nadia was her name, if he remembered correctly. She was a short and dark-skinned middle-aged woman with bright and intelligent eyes.
