3.
“I have no idea who it was,” Captain Moon’s hologram said. “All I know is that it had the codes to stop the Keeper dead in it’s tracks, that whoever it was they’re human but only about five-one, and they speak High-Yonohoan.”
Captain Anders frowned. He was in what he was beginning to think of as ‘his crisis room,’ which is where he had taken to taking secured communications in privacy. It was a glorified storage closet that had been emptied out following the division of the crew of the Seeker into three, with one part remaining behind, another boarding the Keeper , and the final receiving medical attention on planet Totola.
“You think it was our hosts?” he asked.
“I don’t know what to think, Anders,” she said. He studied her expression closely for hidden tells, but there were no subtle hints or pre-arranged signals in her features. “The crew was frightened, but maybe it’s just a routine traffic stop. We don’t know. The concerning part is the data dump. I’ve been speaking with Takeshi, and he thinks that it’s possible someone could triangulate the origin of Earth based on the starting locations of the probes.”
“Do you think that was the purpose of the stop? To find out where we came from?” he inquired.
“The likelihood has crossed my mind,” she said.
“You said it spoke High-Yonohoan,” he said. “Not their common language? The historic one?”
“I’m pretty certain of it. I tried to get the Keeper to replay the messages, but whoever it was wiped its memory of most of the encounter. It only has a record of the data transfer due to the maintenance and connection logs, which somehow avoided the purge,” Captain Moon explained.
“High-Yonohoan was one of six formally recognized military cants,” she pointed out. “The fact that they were using it in Yonohoan space doesn’t necessarily mean that they were our hosts. It could have been selected to ensure understanding and compliance. Or to disguise their true identity. If our hosts wanted our data, they could have simply slipped a Trojan into the Toormonda. They didn’t need to stop us and make us put up our guard.”
“I am still going to make a formal inquiry about the incident to the Yonohoan government,” Anders decided. He sighed. “I am relieved that nobody was hurt. You handled the situation as well as you could, Captain Moon. The data breech is regrettable, but it doesn’t sound like there was any action you could have performed which would have mitigated or prevented it from occurring. Is the science data still intact?”
“Yes. The data was copied but remains unmodified,” she answered.
“Okay. Continue your return to Yonohoan space. I’ll get on the horn to their government and see what they have to say for themselves,” Captain Anders said. “Anders out.”
“Moon Out,” she said, and her hologram vanished.
“Contact Premier Senator Osantos and Renosa of the Yonohoan self-defense fleet,” he said to the room. Two icons appeared indicating hovering in the air indicating the connection request had been made and were being secured. It took a few moments, and Renosa answered first.
“How may I assist you, Captain Anders,” the ever cheerful fleet adjutant inquired.
“I would like to wait for Osantos to join us so that I only have to ask my question once,” he said. And he didn’t say ‘and so that I can see you both at the same time when I make my accusation.’
“Of course, Captain Anders,” she said.
They waited in silence. It took several minutes for the connection to the senator to go through.
“Hello, Captain Anders,” Osantos said. “How might I be of service?”
“I wish to know why the Toormonda ship given to us by your government was stopped by unnamed military forces. The crew of the vessel was interrogated by a military agent and the computer was forced to perform a full data dump, including sensitive records,” he said, his voice heavy with the gravity of the situation.
“Someone stopped a Toormonda?” Renosa said. “I can’t think of anyone who would--”
“This occurred inside Yonohoan territory?” the Senator asked. “Whoever had the gall to--”
Both of the representatives of the Yonohoan government expressed shock and outrage over the incident. Both formally denied knowing anything about it in advanced and vowed to investigate the matter with urgency and discretion.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“So this was not a routine traffic incident?” Anders asked for clarification.
“Traffic incident?” Renosa seemed confused. “Stopping a spacecraft for inspection is only performed if illegal activity is suspected. A simple query of a Toormonda’s computer systems would prevent that from taking place without the need for a stop. It is routine for the Toormonda to report its passenger manifest and port of origin. That should have been all the information that anyone in this galaxy required in order to know that your ship was compliant with all relevant laws.”
Anders hadn’t realized that the Toormonda would tattle tale on them to the government on request, but considering his own nation’s stance on monitoring flight paths in atmosphere, he couldn’t work up any outrage.
“To be clear, the government of the Yonohoan people are at this time denying advanced knowledge or involvement in this incident?” he clarified.
“Yes, Captain,” they both agreed.
“I am not making any formal accusations to the contrary. I wish to inquire whether High Yonohoan remains a common language in the military, however. I realize that it has historical value--”
“The boarder spoke the high language?” Renosa asked, her eyes going wide.
Anders raised a brow. “Captain Moon is reasonably certain that she recognized it as such.”
“In that case, Captain, your people might be lucky to be alive,” Renosa said. “It is likely that they were visited by a ghost from a far more turbulent time. It also adds urgency to the situation which my peers are presently facing, and so I must excuse myself, Captain Anders.”
“What situation is that, Renosa? Or are you not at liberty to say?” Anders asked.
“Normally I would not tell you this information, except that your people are involved,” Renosa said. “The flagship of the Totola defense force has gone dark.”
Anders frowned. “What does that mean?”
“It is no longer informing us of its location or accepting communication requests,” she clarified. “This isn’t entirely unusual in itself, except that the current mission of the flagship is to assist a civilian vessel with a routine scientific inquiry. There is no reason to activate covert military or security protocols.”
“Eolai and Diego are aboard that ship,” Anders pointed out.
“The last two sons of Eodar should be safe. The flagship is capable of making a stand against a fleet of enemies,” Renosa said. “It is extremely concerning, however. My peers and I must investigate further. If you will excuse me, captain.”
Her hologram vanished. Captain Anders turned to Osantos.
“What would happen if the Son of Eodar and his chosen brother were attacked?” Anders asked.
“The wrath of the Yonohoah and its allies would fall upon the perpetrator,” Osantos answered. “I can think of nobody who would dare.”
“Thank you, Senator Osantos,” Anders said. It was most polite to use a title with the name. Using a title alone was impolite, as it implied that the person’s identity was unimportant, only the role which they filled. As such, calling Osantos “Senator” without using his name would have been rude, a lesson that Anders had learned the first time they’d spoken.
When call disconnected, Anders cursed and slammed his fist against his desk, causing him to float up a moment before he got himself under control again. This was not a positive development. He knew that people were searching for Earth. It was only the vastness of space which was preventing them from having found it already.
The universe knew that a Darkworld had contacted the Yonohoans. They just didn’t know which Yonohoan planet had been contacted, giving Earth a measure of protection due to the vastness of the Yonohoan empire.
Additionally, the Yonohoan were engaged in a disinformation game that they called “Korjakala.” Young Yonohoan men and women were actively engaged in pretending to be earthlings and effectively trolling their way throughout the universe. This was an active effort on behalf of the Yonohoan people to protect emerging darkworlds from being overwhelmed by their neighborhood superpowers; the practice of Korjakala ensured that all parties maintained their agreed upon practices regarding Darkworlds and followed the relevant laws in their treatment.
The fact that most Yonohoans treated Korjakala as a game to frustrate, annoy, amuse or educate the rest of the universe was irrelevant for the moment, as far as Anders was concerned. At the moment, he was just glad that the wave of Korjakala was helping to obscure the actual location of Earth and its meager space defense forces.
He was uncertain how easily the enemy would be able to triangulate the location of earth based on the probe data that had been copied from the Keeper ’s records, but he had to assume that it was possible. And that it was being performed.
He considered the possibility that this was a ruse by the Yonohoans to trick him into revealing Earth’s location. He had to consider it, even though his gut was telling him otherwise.
He hated this situation. He wanted to trust the Yonohoans, but strategically he couldn’t take the risk.
On the other hand, the threat to Earth posed by a potential unnamed and unidentified force with military powers that were sure to exceed the space assets of Earth meant that maintaining Earth’s independence might depend upon obtaining status as a protectorate of Yonohoah.
That was Anders’ preferred solution to the mess; have the Yonohoans keep the universe at large off of Earth’s back for a few decades while they built up a space force which could defend itself and tried to catch up technologically.
The issue was; he was just a captain of a science vessel. He didn’t have the authority to formally request such a thing.
The people that could do so were light years away.