Stephen Berry - The Battle for Terra Two

"Computer, just copy the last entry under this category and change date to current."

"Illegal command."

D'Trelna's face flushed dangerously. "Computer, nothing has changed since the previous entry. Copy the previous entry."

"All entries of this nature must be original."

D'Trelna reached for the large crystal water carafe.

"Damaging a remote terminal will not injure main computer," said computer. It had lost five other screens beneath the same hairy hand before discovering that disingenuous sentence.

"Blood pressure, J'Quel," warned L'Wrona. "Blood pressure."

"Very well." The carafe returned to the desktop. "Composition of force: two vessels. The L'Aal-class battle cruiserImplacable, Captain Lord Captain H'Nar L'Wrona, Margrave of U'Tria, commanding. And the S'Rin-class destroyerV'Tran's Glory, Captain H'Tan S'Tur commanding. Both warships are in geosynchronous orbit one hundred and seventeen standard units above the planet Terra. Task force is awaiting Fleet reevaluation of original mission versus current situation, planet Terra. See previous reports. Terra Two, cross references Shalan-Actal, Guan-Sharick and John Harrison, file number…

"Computer, will you condescend to insert the reference number?"

"Of course, Commodore."

"Thank you. End and file."

"Filed." The screen blanked, quickly folding back into the comparative safety of the desktop.

D' Trelna shook his head. "I really hate that machine."

"It's only a machine, J'Quel-it's not malevolent."

"Maybe." D'Trelna sat up, opening the top drawer of his desk. "Let's talk about malevolent machinery." He held out the golden triangle. "Here."

L'Wrona took it, looking at the device set into the metal: silver starship against a gold sun, a blue eye in each corner of the triangle.

"Early Empire," said L'Wrona, holding it up to the light. "Fourth Dynasty at the most. And beautifully detailed-the eyes are uncanny." He set it on the desktop.

"Under magnification, those eyes have a retina pattern- the same retina pattern."

"Interesting. Where'd you get it?"

"Harrison brought it back from Terra Two."

L'Wrona's eyes widened. "How…?"

"How, indeed?"

"T'ata?"

"No, thank you."

D'Trelna tapped out a command, then took a steaming cup of brown liquid from the desk beverager.

"Harrison was briefly conscious on the way to the hospital. He gave that triangle to McShane-taken from a destroyed killer machine." The commodore sipped his tea.

"You ran it?"

D'Trelna nodded, setting down the t'ata. "You were close, H'Nar. Third Dynasty-the House of D'Lan."

The captain sat down on the chair. "Gods. The Machine Wars."

"Correct. The Empire built self-replicating, self-improving helpers. Said helpers decided man was obsolete. Man thought otherwise. Empire tottered, Fleet reeled, Emperor and dynasty fell-but machines were wiped out."

"Then these aren't the machines Pocsym warned against- they can't be," said L'Wrona. "Those machines predated man by millennia."

"Insufficient data, as our tame computer would say." D'Trelna thoughtfully circled the cup rim with a thick finger. "I would like very much to get to Terra Two."

"You can't-not if Harrison destroyed the portal."

"There may be another way." He turned, staring through the armorglass at Earth and the Moon beyond.

A silver spacecraft drifted by, running on n-gravs for the hangar deck aft.

"Shuttle coming in." He glanced at the wall chronometer. "American, I believe. If it's more social scientists with those quaint recording machines and inane questions, I'm hiding."

"But they're so earnest, J'Quel," said L'Wrona.

The commodore raised an eyebrow. "You were certainly very earnest with that lovely young anthropologist- the one who shared your quarters, for what? two watches?"

L'Wrona blushed. "You're a voyeur, D'Trelna."

'' Bored-merely bored.''

A moment later, the alert klaxon brought them to their feet, startled.

"Battle stations. Battle stations." The view through the armorglass blurred as the shield went to battle force.

"This is no drill," warned the bridge. "This is no drill."

D'Trelna took an MK 1A from his desk.

"Command officers to the bridge. Command officers to the bridge."

Weapons in hand, the two rushed into the corridor. Officers and crew filled the passageways, running for their posts.

Captain and commodore burst onto the bridge, the battle klaxon still rattling through the long miles of the ship.

"Status," said L'Wrona to the XO, Commander T'Lei K'Raoda.

"Mr. Sutherland…" began the young officer.

"I requested T'Lei bring the ship to alert, H'Nar," said Bill Sutherland. The CIA Director stood to their right, by navigation.

"What is the nature of the emergency?" asked L'Wrona, eyes flicking to the tacscan up on the main board. Terran communications satellites, space junk andV'Tran's Glory standing five units off to port. AH green plotted, all normal.

The battle klaxon stopped.

"As I was having breakfast this morning, Guan-Sharick appeared, au naturel, said four words and vanished. I left the granola scattered over the floor and grabbed the next shuttle from Andrews. I didn't dare use the commnet."

"What did the bug say?" asked D'Trelna.

The nearest bridge crew pretended not to listen.

"He said, 'The portal is back.' "

"Shit," said D'Trelna in English. He sank into the flag officer's chair, behind and above the captain's.

"High alert, Commander K'Raoda," ordered L'Wrona. "All S'Cotar countermeasures into effect."

"He also said to warn you-the machines need another star drive to punch through to their home universe. They'll be coming for one of yours."

"Sir, V'Tran's' shield has been down for half the watch," said K'Raoda.

L'Wrona and D'Trelna exchanged worried glances. "T'Lei, why didn't you report that?" asked the captain.

"It's only an anomaly during high alert, sir."

D'Trelna shook his head mumbling something. He punched into the commnet. "Commodore toV'Tran's Glory."

A woman's round face filled his commscreen. She was about D'Trelna's age, with close-cropped, graying hair. The bottom edge of the pickup just caught the gleam of the starship captain's silver insignia on her collar.

"How's that shield coming, H'Tan?" asked D'Trelna.

"Just about ready, Commodore," she said. "We'd have had it sooner, but I'm short three shield techs. Shore leave."

D'Trelna grunted. "Very well. Keep me posted." His finger paused over the cutoff.

"Oh, H'Tan. Just got a skipcomm from Fleet." He smiled knowingly. "Admiral T'Bul sends you his warmest compliments."

The destroyer captain's face brightened. "D'Trelna, you've made my watch."

"And you mine," said D'Trelna as her image disappeared. He swiveled the chair to face L'Wrona. "I think we should sendV'Tran's Glory our warmest compliments, H'Nar."

"Agreed." Face a graven mask, he turned to K'Raoda."V'Tran's Glory is taken, T'Lei. Blow her away."

K'Raoda had heard the exchange between D'Trelna and the destroyer. Calling up gunnery control, far amidships, he began speaking softly into the commnet, face pale and angry.

"Good God!" said Sutherland, aghast. "Are you sure?"

D'Trelna nodded wearily. "S'Tur would never let more than one shield tech go at a time. No competent captain would. And S'Tur is.. . was very competent."

"But…" protested the Terran.

"Admiral T'Bul's been dead for ten years, Bill," said L'Wrona. "He died in our first battle with the S'Cotar. He and S'Tur had a brief marriage contract. It didn't end pleasantly. She cheered his death posting."

"Gunnery will not fire without authenticated confirmation from both captain and commodore," reported K'Raoda.

"Target's shield just came up," reported T'Ral from the tactics console. "Battle force. I've implemented broad-spectrum countermeasures."