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Destroyer 6223’s freshly assigned Second Forward Fusor One looked around his control room with satisfaction. Despite the frustration of Commander trium’s plans – really One’s plans – the Fusor trium had been transferred from control of the dead second ship’s rear fusors to control of half of those of the new, larger Destroyer’s forward weapons.
“This is more satisfactory,” One said. “Our molecules are rising.”
“The two-ship concept failed,” said Three.
“It is you who fail to understand,” One replied. “This has worked out well both for us and for the Empire. We have advanced our trium, and the True Race had an additional Destroyer to sacrifice when the unexpected Human attack came. Now we have destroyed or avoided their pathetically slow forces and have absorbed most of the substance of 6223-2. Our ship is larger now than when we traveled between stars.”
“But not as large as it could have been,” Two interjected. “Still, all in all, our lot has improved.”
“Thank you for that resounding endorsement,” One said.
“I only wish to maintain accuracy in our assessments.”
“Yes, accuracy is important,” Three chimed in.
One’s gelatinous body shook with irritation. “You could be promoted three ranks tomorrow and still find bad news.”
“I am concerned,” Two said. “You and Command both claimed these Humans would be pushovers. Yet they mounted a significant attack a great distance from their home system. Their forces are slow, but numerous, and if their fusion missiles were more accurate they could easily have killed us. Perhaps we should seek reinforcements.”
“Now you aspire to Command? Perhaps you should forward advice upward on how to proceed. I am sure Commander One would be happy to taste your words. Many things could kill us. Running into a comet could kill us. Larger forces of the Empire are undoubtedly on the way. We cannot hasten that day. We can only try to eliminate Species 666 while we can, or do as much damage as possible. We live for the Empire.”
“We live for the Empire,” the two others repeated, and both subsided in their holding tanks, effectively ending the conversation.
One wondered whether he had been too harsh, but decided not. Three was skilled enough but always worried, but he was surprised at Two’s doubts. The road to advancement was never simple or easy for one of the Pure Race.
Some time later, after much of the routine of their first day on the job had been dispensed with, One called another conference, after ensuring the enemy remained far behind.
“I wanted to pass on what I have found out regarding our future,” he began. Two put on an appearance of guarded interest, while Three seemed worried, as usual.
“Please go on, One. Your observations are always insightful,” Two said.
“Agreed. I have been reviewing the routine reports from all sections, available on the intraship informational web, and I have deduced that we are circling around to enter the enemy solar system from a significantly differing direction.”
“What good will that do?” Three asked. “Our drive cannot be concealed.”
“Perhaps. But before we enter their system, we will be conducting certain operations among these comets around us. I have not been able to determine their exact nature, but we are already slowing our headlong flight in order to match velocities with some of the free-floaters.”
“What about the enemy?”
“Calm yourself,” Two said sternly. “They no longer pursue us, but have turned back for their system. However, they will not get home in time to affect our plans. They are low on fuel and expendable munitions. Machine technology cannot easily resupply, but we are undoubtedly pausing for Destroyer 6223 to consume material.”
“Well said, Two,” One replied. “However, there is something unusual about our projected course. One short stop should be sufficient to resupply ourselves. One long stop would allow us to continue to grow the ship and keep our consumables topped off. Instead, it appears we plan to stop in no fewer than sixteen different places.”
“What could be Commander’s purpose?”
“What indeed?” One said. “What do you think?” He enjoyed the power that greater knowledge and a greater intellect gave him to lord it over his subordinates.
“In Commander’s place, I might employ stellar bombardment tactics,” Two mused. “The recent engagement showed that we are closer in force parity than first thought. Perhaps he seeks to complicate their defense plans.”
“Excellent, Two. That is precisely what I came up with already. Aside from consuming as much as possible, growing and laying in stocks of weapons and auxiliaries, I suspect he will place bombardment modules on all available free-floaters.”
Two rippled his integument, the equivalent of a human clearing his throat. “We should prepare for this eventuality using your deductions. This will allow us to be more efficient than others when the time comes. We might even file a suggestive report to increase others’ effectiveness – but not enough to outdo us.”
“An excellent idea. I see you are finally absorbing my mental processes,” One replied. “If we can figure out how, perhaps I – I mean we – can submit another report that will impress Command in some way. Once we conquer this species, the higher our status, the greater our options. Perhaps we can gain command of a ship again, something larger than a Survey craft.”
Two sloshed in agreement, while Three turned his main eyeball away, as if unsure. One resolved to keep a secondary eye on that one, in case his nerve broke. He seemed to be growing less dependable, though he had performed adequately during the battle.
Some Meme rise to stressful occasions, One thought, and some Meme seem to have only so much fortitude before they crumble. Three seems one of the latter.
It remained to be seen about Two.
