of the creatures carried an orange
fur with black stripes, while a minority sported spots instead. They sat in
couches that allowed them to use all of their limbs, front and rear carrying
useable hands.
One looked into the
screen, his cat like eyes narrowed, ears flattened, lips curled back from his
long muzzle. The fur around his neck was up in a ruff. Afraid , thought
the admiral. And with every reason to be. Maurids, as he had thought. The
Universe would do just as well without these running around in their primitive
warships, surely looking for even more primitive peoples to prey upon.
A scratching roar
sounded from the speakers, in time with the creature’s lips. Nothing that the
ship’s computers had ever heard before, and no translation was forthcoming.
“Transmit back to
them,” said the admiral. The com officer pushed a few buttons and nodded to
him.
“We cannot understand
your transmission,” he said toward the screen. “Please transmit using standard
Galactic.”
He wanted to hear what
they had to say before they died. And there might just be some useful
information the creatures would be willing to give for the promise of their
lives. Not that promises made to nonhumans meant anything.
“They are 2.77 light
minutes at current transmission range,” said the com officer. “Five and a half
minutes before return transmission.”
The admiral nodded his
head as he watched the torpedoes slowly move toward their targets on the
tactical display. The alien captain continued to speak into the screen, though
the com officer had damped the sound so they didn’t have to listen to the
coarse racket of its language.
At five and a half
minutes the expression on the alien’s face changed to one of recognition. It
started to speak again, this time in something almost recognizable. After a
second the translation program in the ship’s computer caught on, and the flat
speech of its voice processor took the place of the alien’s voice. It started
the translation from the first known words, the sounds coming through its
speakers out of sync with the alien’s mouthings on the screen.
“Unknown aliens,” it
said, “unknown aliens. We are on a peaceful mission. Repeat, we are on a
peaceful mission. Why have you fired on our vessels? Please abort your
missiles, or we will be forced to return fire.”
Several of the crew
started laughing. As if they had anything to fear from those vessels. Pure
bravado on the part of the Maurids.
“Repeat, to unknown
aliens. We are on a peaceful mission. We have done nothing to provoke an
aggressive action. In the name of mercy abort your missiles.”
With a wave of his hand
the admiral cut the voice, watching with pleasure the reactions of the
panicking alien crew. They must know from the acceleration of the incoming
torpedoes that they were facing something beyond their ability to stop. But he
still expected them to fight, to give him more pleasure in their resistance.
“Perhaps if you told us
more about your mission, and your destination, we would be willing to believe
you.”
Minutes passed. The
tactical officer looked quickly to his personal display, then up at the
admiral.
“They have attacked the
torpedoes, sir.”
“Anything we need to
worry about?”
“No sir. Just standard
lasers, in the UV range. The torpedoes are instituting automatic evasive.”
It would take over a
minute for the lasers to strike the torpedoes at their current range. The
gentlest of evasive maneuvers would make the torpedoes impossible to track
targets. As they closed they would have to maneuver more violently, but they
had the ability to do so, among other defensive capabilities.
Seconds later the laser
light shone on the hull of the Orca . If held long enough on the same
point of the hull they would cause damage. But Orca would not hold
still. Small adjustments at high gee threw the targeting of the beams
fur with black stripes, while a minority sported spots instead. They sat in
couches that allowed them to use all of their limbs, front and rear carrying
useable hands.
One looked into the
screen, his cat like eyes narrowed, ears flattened, lips curled back from his
long muzzle. The fur around his neck was up in a ruff. Afraid , thought
the admiral. And with every reason to be. Maurids, as he had thought. The
Universe would do just as well without these running around in their primitive
warships, surely looking for even more primitive peoples to prey upon.
A scratching roar
sounded from the speakers, in time with the creature’s lips. Nothing that the
ship’s computers had ever heard before, and no translation was forthcoming.
“Transmit back to
them,” said the admiral. The com officer pushed a few buttons and nodded to
him.
“We cannot understand
your transmission,” he said toward the screen. “Please transmit using standard
Galactic.”
He wanted to hear what
they had to say before they died. And there might just be some useful
information the creatures would be willing to give for the promise of their
lives. Not that promises made to nonhumans meant anything.
“They are 2.77 light
minutes at current transmission range,” said the com officer. “Five and a half
minutes before return transmission.”
The admiral nodded his
head as he watched the torpedoes slowly move toward their targets on the
tactical display. The alien captain continued to speak into the screen, though
the com officer had damped the sound so they didn’t have to listen to the
coarse racket of its language.
At five and a half
minutes the expression on the alien’s face changed to one of recognition. It
started to speak again, this time in something almost recognizable. After a
second the translation program in the ship’s computer caught on, and the flat
speech of its voice processor took the place of the alien’s voice. It started
the translation from the first known words, the sounds coming through its
speakers out of sync with the alien’s mouthings on the screen.
“Unknown aliens,” it
said, “unknown aliens. We are on a peaceful mission. Repeat, we are on a
peaceful mission. Why have you fired on our vessels? Please abort your
missiles, or we will be forced to return fire.”
Several of the crew
started laughing. As if they had anything to fear from those vessels. Pure
bravado on the part of the Maurids.
“Repeat, to unknown
aliens. We are on a peaceful mission. We have done nothing to provoke an
aggressive action. In the name of mercy abort your missiles.”
With a wave of his hand
the admiral cut the voice, watching with pleasure the reactions of the
panicking alien crew. They must know from the acceleration of the incoming
torpedoes that they were facing something beyond their ability to stop. But he
still expected them to fight, to give him more pleasure in their resistance.
“Perhaps if you told us
more about your mission, and your destination, we would be willing to believe
you.”
Minutes passed. The
tactical officer looked quickly to his personal display, then up at the
admiral.
“They have attacked the
torpedoes, sir.”
“Anything we need to
worry about?”
“No sir. Just standard
lasers, in the UV range. The torpedoes are instituting automatic evasive.”
It would take over a
minute for the lasers to strike the torpedoes at their current range. The
gentlest of evasive maneuvers would make the torpedoes impossible to track
targets. As they closed they would have to maneuver more violently, but they
had the ability to do so, among other defensive capabilities.
Seconds later the laser
light shone on the hull of the Orca . If held long enough on the same
point of the hull they would cause damage. But Orca would not hold
still. Small adjustments at high gee threw the targeting of the beams
Similar Books
