The empty void had an unwelcome visitor.



I stared out into the blackness of space. I strained my eyes to focus on a small pinprick of light, moving imperceptively through the vast, inky sea. The holographic display surrounding the bridge window helpfully informed me that the object was actually moving at ten percent the speed of light, but at this distance, it seemed even a snail would reach the edge of the window first.



We were patrolling the edge of Authority space, a system known to Fleet Command as LX-4028. The local colonists called it “Burden,” and in this moment I felt that the name is very appropriate. The snafu began with an unidentified hyperspace rupture at the edge of the system. That was bad enough. Every vessel is legally required to broadcast its identity and mission to any Authority vessel as soon as it exits hyperspace. Only smugglers, corsairs, and rebel military vessels did not. Therefore, the standard protocol on any Authority vessel is to enter attack mode if the unidentified vessel makes no attempt to communicate.



The other ship stayed silent. And that is why the bridge is red with battle lighting.



In fact, the other ship did nothing to acknowledge our existence. It exited hyperspace, immediately burned its sublight engines, and moved along the edge of the system. In the minute or so since its emergence into realspace, the ship made no turns. It did not redirect its course towards Burden, any of its planets and asteroids, or towards the Defiance.



My crew – officers, technicians, operators – were all at their stations, dutifully carrying out their specific responsibilities. From my chair, I turned to look at them. With my eyes adjusted to the dim red light, I could easily make out their features. The stony expressions on their face betrayed none of the fear they must be feeling. Space combat is incredibly lethal. With high-powered lasers and relativistic accelerators, a ship could be vaporized with no warning. The Defiance had no escape pods. No warship did.



My crew worked through the standard protocols, taking every measure to identify the vessel. In space, there is no hiding. Every artificial object in space performs a virtual orchestra for any observer in the vicinity. Most natural objects in space are cold, while ships and space stations generate plenty of heat.



My crew studied the unknown ship’s velocity, its radiation signature, its thermal footprint, its thruster signature, any electromagnetic signals it might be emitting. With enough clues, my crew could identify any human ship in the galaxy. They could tell me its size, likely threat level, crew size, even the make and model of its sublight engines.



When my comms officer told me that they had nothing, I knew there was trouble. I did not doubt my crew’s abilities, or the Defiance’s instruments. In the past, they had identified all manner of criminal scum, and quickly terminated those nuisances to the Human Authority. In the half-decade of captaining the Defiance, I had encountered every type of ship, from hijacked civilian yachts to warships cobbled together from junk, and they were all identified within seconds. The ships had nothing in common, except one thing.



They were all built by humans.



I called for Ensign Sylvester Lorentz, the Defiance’s security officer. I didn’t have to call far; the ensign was required to be at my side at all times. With the defections occurring in the wake of the Insurgency, Fleet Command thought it wise to place officers vetted by Authority Security on every ship in the Fleet, to “ensure the speedy and competent execution of Authority directives.” Ensign Lorentz made daily reports to Fleet Command, and if he were ever to stop, I would be branded a traitor and the Defiance would have to live up to its name.



“Execute the Schelling Protocol.”



“Are you sure, sir?” Ensign Lorentz replied with some hesitation. His reaction told me more than he likely intended. Lorentz was not given to second-guessing any of my orders in my presence, doubtless leaving that in his reports to Fleet Command. These four words told me that he knew what the Schelling Protocol actually was.



The Schelling Protocol is one of the great enigmas within the Authority Fleet. Everybody knew that it was the protocol for handling first contact with a non-human vessel, but nobody but the top brass knew its contents. Speculation and rumor were the order of the day whenever the Schelling Protocol was mentioned, and among the lower ranks, there was even widespread skepticism over whether it actually existed. I only received confirmation of its existence when I became captain of the Defiance, but even I was not told about its contents. I never imagined that I would get an opportunity to find out.



I nodded in Lorentz’s direction, and he produced a plastic keycard from his jacket. I showed him an identical one, and we approached part of the bridge console that was always ignored. We swiped both cards simultaneously, and were prompted by the bridge computer to place our hands on a biometric scanner. I jumped a bit when a needle buried itself into the palm of my hand for a blood sample. After a few seconds, a plastic tube emerged from the console, which Ensign Lorentz grabbed. He unscrewed the top of the tube and pulled out a single envelope. He handed me the envelope. I took a second or two to appreciate the paper; the last time I held paper in my hands was when I was given my diploma upon graduating from Fleet Academy. I tore open the envelope, revealing a single sheet of white paper. The Schelling Protocol just was one line:



If an Authority Fleet vessel encounters an unidentified, non-human object, it must destroy this object immediately.



“Very well,” I said, folding up the sheet and placing it back in the envelope. I turned to address the entire bridge crew, which had stopped what they were doing to await further instructions. I held up the envelope.



“We have our orders. Destroy the unidentified ship.”



The bridge erupted into a frenzy of activity. We had tracked the alien vessel since it exited hyperspace, so it was not long before a firing solution was plotted. I felt the Defiance shudder as its sublight thrusters maneuvered to track the alien ship, and the gunners warmed up the ship’s spinal relativistic accelerator. The spinal relativistic accelerator formed much of the Defiance from stem to stern. Using twenty magnetic coils – each the size of an office building – the accelerator can fire depleted ferro-uranium shrapnel at ninety percent the speed of light. The weapon was impossible to dodge or even anticipate, let alone survive. A low, deep hum from the charging coils filled the bridge.



Then, I heard words no captain ever wanted to hear. It was my comms officer, Ensign Paula Perkins, who was observing the Defiance’s computer system.



“Critical system failure! The entire ship is dead in the water.”



I walked to her console and pushed her aside. She wasn’t lying: the screen was a deep blue, with white text that said the three words. I rushed to the accelerator console, and the screens displayed the same disappointing message. The gunners looked at me, confused and desperate. They knew better than to make excuses, but I could tell from their faces that they all wanted to say the same thing: there is nothing we can do.



“Get that gun back online,” I barked at them, as if they needed to be told. The loud hum that came from the Defiance’s spinal accelerator disappeared; the gunners must have initiated the emergency shutdown procedure. I walked back to my chair, and stared back out into the void. I wondered if the alien vessel detected the spike in heat and electromagnetic energy that our aborted firing attempt generated. I wondered if the aliens could figure out that we tried to destroy their vessel, and what their response would be.



My thoughts were interrupted when I heard someone say my name. It was Ensign Perkins.



“Permission to speak freely, sir?” I nodded. Ensign Perkins was always skeptical about orders, but she always carried them out when pressed. While Fleet Command disagreed with allowing lower officers question the captain’s orders, I found Ensign Perkins’ questions allowed me to formulate smarter orders.



“Why are we trying to destroy that ship?” she asked.



“We have our orders from Fleet Command. The Schelling Protocol,” I replied, almost shrugging my shoulders.



“But why does Fleet Command want us to destroy a ship that hasn’t done anything to us?” It was a good question, and I was personally stumped. Ensign Lorentz did not hesitate to answer when I couldn’t.



“Several centuries ago, during the first phase of human expansion, the Human Authority recognized the possibility of encountering alien life. The Authority assembled Earth’s foremost xenobiologists and asked them to formulate a practical first contact protocol. This was called the Schelling Committee, named after Admiral Arthur Schelling, who chaired the Committee and represented Fleet Command. The Schelling Committee knew immediately that they had a problem: they knew nothing. They had no way of knowing how intelligent alien life would act until it was encountered. They had to act on conjecture, and the conclusions they reached were sobering.”



My instinct was correct: Ensign Lorentz knew everything about the Schelling Protocol. Part of me suspected that he was placed on the Defiance precisely because Fleet Command wanted the Protocol carried out to the letter. The ensign continued.



“The first conclusion is that intelligence capable of constructing spacecraft must arise from a predatory or omnivorous species. This was based on our understanding of evolutionary pressures. Life forms that rely on sessile sources of energy are not intelligent, because intelligence gives no additional benefit to such creatures. A clever rabbit does not have any significant reproductive advantage over a dull one, because both of them can easily find grass. On the other hand, the wolves that are hunting the rabbits have a lot to gain from being clever, because a dull wolf does not catch the rabbit, and it does not eat. Barring major environmental differences on another world, these evolutionary pressures will be present. In fact, the Schelling Committee concluded that any intelligent species encountered would likely be an apex predator on their home world, much like we are the apex predators on Earth.”



“The second conclusion follows from the first, and that is that this intelligent species would have a well-attuned combat-oriented psychology. Predators, particularly apex predators, must not only compete with their prey; they must also compete with one another. Therefore, they would have developed a psychology that is capable and willing to fight others of its kind in order to gain food, resources, territory, and mates. The Schelling Committee did conclude that any alien species encountered in space cannot be overly aggressive, because they will need to be able to cooperate to build an industrial society capable of building spacecraft. However, as our own species shows, rationality and aggression can coexist. We can use our rationality to choose when to fight, but apart from some ideological holdouts, we are more than capable of killing. In other words, pacifism is unlikely to be the norm in the universe.”



I was starting to grow bored of the lecture, and I turned to Ensign Perkins to see if she felt the same way. To my surprise, she found a comfortable position leaning against a console, listening intently to Ensign Lorentz explain the Schelling Protocol.



“The third conclusion is that any intelligent species we encounter in space displays in-group preference, and that preference will naturally exclude humans. Cooperation is necessary for developing an advanced, industrial society that is capable of creating spacecraft. This cooperation likely arises from in-group preference: packs of wolves or tribes of humans working together in order to survive as a unit. A single member of the pack or tribe would gladly sacrifice for the group, because it increases the chances of his progeny surviving within the group. In this environment, the main competitor is other groups of the same species. In-group preference thus coexists with the mistrust and general hostility towards members of the out-group. This will not disappear with the rise of technological civilization, it merely takes different forms. The Schelling Committee understood this, using the example of the Interplanetary Wars. Today, the Insurgency offers ample evidence that humanity still displays strong in-group preference. Further, any alien species that would survive to contact mankind would be capable of defending itself from other threats. While it is possible for a philosophical universalism to arise in an alien species, their instincts will still consider us an outsider, and therefore a possible threat and competitor.”



“The fourth conclusion is that communication with these aliens is impossible. We can postulate about the likely evolutionary psychology of an alien species, but the previous three conclusions are all we can glean from theory. Unless the crew of a vessel has detailed xenobiological information derived from intensive study of the aliens – which is, by definition, impossible in a first contact scenario – they have no means of communicating with the aliens even non-verbally. We know nothing about the alien crew’s physiology until first contact, and that is assuming that we are somehow given access to one of their number. In the past, humans have tried to use mathematical patterns to communicate with hypothetical aliens, but the Schelling Committee rejected that possibility, because it is unclear if the alien crew would recognize the patterns as an attempt to communicate. For all we know, they may believe we are issuing a threat, and would reply with force.”



“The destruction of the Interplanetary Wars informed a policy of extreme caution. The Committee concluded that any alien encountered would have a long history of conflict, and would be willing to use it. Communication would be impossible with the aliens, and therefore no realistic attempts at negotiation for surrender or parley can be made. With the lethality of spaceborne weaponry, even in those early days, it is guaranteed that if an alien ship fired on a human ship, the human ship would be destroyed before it has any chance to retreat or retaliate. Therefore, the conclusion the Schelling Committee reached was that the only rational first contact response is to destroy the alien ship, before it has a chance to destroy one of our ships.”



“I’m impressed, Ensign,” I replied half-sarcastically. “Did you memorize all of that?”



“As a matter of fact, Authority Security required that I did,” Ensign Lorentz said with some pride.



Ensign Perkins stood up and turned to the viewport, before turning back to face Ensign Lorentz. “Those are all great points, but there’s just one problem,” she finally said. She pointed to the tiny speck of light. “If those aliens are hostile, why are we still alive?”



I thought Ensign Lorentz had a canned answer ready, and evidently he thought so too. He began to babble about alien psychology before pausing, realizing that he had no answer. Before he could formulate one, a crewman approached me with good news.



“Captain, the ship’s computer systems are back online. We can begin the firing sequence now.”



“Thank you, sailor,” Lorentz replied out of turn. “We can be rid of this nuisance once and for all. Charge the magnetic coils.”



“You don’t give orders on this ship,” Ensign Perkins interrupted. She turned to me. “Captain, don’t fire on that ship! We might be able to communicate with it.”



“Captain, we have our orders,” Ensign Lorentz shot back, more at Perkins than at me. “Remember your duty to the Human Authority.”



“Your orders, sir?” the confused crewman asked.



“Can we jump out of here?” I asked. Ensign Lorentz shot me an ugly look.



“No, sir,” the crewman replied. “The hyperspace cogitator is still malfunctioning.”



I cursed under my breath. Of course I couldn’t just run away from this. I told the crewman to warm up the magnetic accelerator and plot a firing solution on the alien vessel, but to wait for my order to fire.



“We have orders from Fleet Command to destroy that enemy vessel,” Ensign Lorentz quietly told me. “And if you carry them out now, I will neglect to mention your attempt to abandon an Authority-protected system in the face of an alien threat in my next report.”



“Sir, we can’t shoot that ship!” Ensign Perkins interjected. Judging from her tone, I could tell that she was not willing to let this issue go. Unfortunately, neither was Ensign Lorentz.



“We have our orders. The Schelling Protocol is the Authority’s policy. Why are we even having this argument?”



Ensign Lorentz was right: we did have a duty to carry out the Schelling Protocol. But I do not appreciate being threatened on my own ship. I stayed silent, and let Ensign Perkins make her case.



“Don’t you see that this is an opportunity to communicate? What if the aliens haven’t shot us because they want to learn about us, and give us an opportunity to learn about them?”



Ensign Lorentz scoffed. “Ensign, unless you have some heretofore-unknown ability to read the minds of alien beings, you don’t know that they have given us any opportunities to communicate. Perhaps their ship is suffering from a mechanical malfunction, much like the Defiance. It is even possible that they are having a pointless debate just like this.”



“Those are all very real possibilities,” Ensign Perkins admitted. “But the possibility remains that they are deliberately choosing not to shoot us. You’ve said yourself that they may be having this same debate on their ship, and you’re right. That means that even you admit that the aliens can choose not to open fire. Whatever that reason may be, it is compelling enough that we should take this unique opportunity for non-violent first contact. We’re probably the first ship in the entire Human Authority to have this opportunity? Are we just going to throw it away?”



Ensign Perkins made a good point, but I didn’t know whether we were the first human ship to have the opportunity to communicate with an alien spacefaring species. But I knew who did. I turned to Ensign Lorentz.



“How many ships have violated the Schelling Protocol?”



“None. At the very least, none that Fleet Command are aware of. We do know of hundreds of Authority Fleet vessels that were destroyed under unknown circumstances.” Ensign Lorentz shot a glare at Ensign Perkins. “If any Authority vessel was ever foolish enough to violate the Schelling Protocol, they haven’t lived to tell the tale.”



“That’s just more baseless, paranoid speculation!” Ensign Perkins shot back. She then addressed me directly. “Captain, the Schelling Protocol was drafted as a first contact measure in cases where we know nothing about the aliens. The Schelling Committee assumed that the aliens would be hostile, just to be on the safe side. But that’s changed now! Because we haven’t been destroyed, we have reason to suspect that they are not hostile.”



Ensign Lorentz quickly replied. “The Schelling Committee made no such assumptions. It merely acknowledges the possibility of hostile alien life. As I’ve said before, the reason the Schelling Protocol mandates a shoot first policy is because no ship can survive if the aliens shoot first. If we had another warship with us, and thus can present a credible threat for retaliation, I may agree with you. Let us wait until that moment to communicate.”



The ongoing argument began to attract attention around the bridge. A few crewmen turned from their consoles to look at Lorentz and Perkins. I glared at them, and they quickly returned to their task of monitoring the alien ship.



“That day may never come! The fact that we are alive now means we have the opportunity to communicate now!” Ensign Perkins turned back to me and pleaded. “Captain, at the very least, we need to talk this through before blindly following orders!”



Ensign Lorentz shouted back at Ensign Perkins. I was taken aback; the ensign was normally calm, and I have never seen him display this much emotion of any sort. His hands shook with rage.



“We don’t have time to argue about this! At this very moment, those aliens could be plotting a firing solution, or charging their weapon, or taking the final steps to destroy this ship! Every second that passes is another second that ten thousand pieces of shrapnel could be hurdling towards our ship at near-light speed!”



“That’s wrong,” Ensign Perkins said bluntly. “Every second that passes is another second the aliens choose not to shoot us. Don’t you understand? Every moment of life we have since they left hyperspace is a gift from them.”



Ensign Lorentz motioned to launch into another tirade, but he stopped himself in confusion. Evidently, Ensign Perkins gave him some new perspective, and he was caught off guard. His pause seemed to drag on for hours, and from his furrowed brow and the shaking of his head I could tell he was taking this argument seriously. I had to admire the man for his commitment to his job. Finally, he spoke.



“I have to admit, that is a good point,” he said softly. Evidently, his pondering calmed him down. “And it may be true. Maybe the aliens are giving us a chance. But you have to understand that what you are proposing is gambling with the lives of every man on the ship. Aren’t you concerned?”



“We need to take a good look at what the possibility of peaceful contact offers us, and the entire human race. These aliens must have evolved in a vastly different world to our own. The biosphere of their home world must be like nothing any human has ever seen! Think of what amazing new creatures are just waiting to be revealed to us! And the aliens themselves, what wisdom they can give us!”



Ensign Perkins gestured to the viewport again.



“They may have traveled among the stars millions of years before we invented fire! They can give us information on new star systems, give us new technology, and give us new insight into ourselves by learning about their culture and philosophy! Don’t you see, Lorentz? We could be on the cusp of a new renaissance!”



Ensign Lorentz scoffed. “That’s a wonderful speech, Ensign Perkins. And I’m sure when the aliens shoot us, their fire will just bounce off your beautiful prose. We know nothing about these aliens, except that they can build a hyperspace-capable vessel. We don’t know anything about their culture or their technology. All we know is that they are a threat! Captain, don’t listen to this nonsense! We need to crack that ship apart!”



“And what if we can’t, Lorentz?” Ensign Perkins raised her voice, once again attracting the attention of the bridge crew. I ordered them to keep tracking the ship and to keep the Defiance’s gun trained on it.



“Like you said, we know nothing about the aliens, including their technological capabilities. They may be able to withstand a first strike. Maybe they have some form of shielding against relativistic fire. Maybe their ships are constructed differently. Maybe they can teleport our fire away! And if they do, they would have every reason to destroy us. You asked me if I was willing to risk the lives of everyone on this ship, but my question is, are you?”



“This situation is inherently risky. We were at risk of complete annihilation as soon as that vessel exited hyperspace. Whatever choice we make, we are at risk. But while I am willing to risk the lives of everyone onboard in order to defend them, you” – Ensign Lorentz pointed a finger at Ensign Perkins – “are willing to risk the same lives for some farfetched, idealistic dream!”



Ensign Perkins crossed her arms and glared at Ensign Lorentz. I was worried that the two might get in a physical fight. I stole a glance at bridge security, and I saw that the Authority Marines were thinking the same thing. About half a dozen were standing by the exits, stun rifles at the ready, likely alerted by another officer about the heated argument in the bridge.



“I still think communicating with the aliens is worth the risks,” Ensign Perkins finally said. “The good outweighs the bad.”



“And what makes you think that communication will work?” Ensign Lorentz asked.



“I can transmit a series of simple patterns using the ship’s laser communicator.”



Ensign Lorentz shook his head. “That is not a good idea. We know nothing about the aliens’ psychology. Their perception may be too slow or too fast for us, and they may not recognize the pattern you sent as a pattern. Worse yet, they may interpret our attempts to communicate a peaceful message as a threat. They may mistake the laser communicator for a targeting device. Not to mention, if for some odd reason we haven’t been noticed by the aliens, sending them a message via laser will give them our exact location”



“It’s a risk we’ll have to take.”



“And even if we do successfully communicate with them, what makes you think that this communication will lead to a positive outcome? We may have a wonderful conversation with the crew of that ship, but what if the rest of their species is hostile? We may embroil the Human Authority in a war we cannot afford.”



“That is a problem,” Ensign Perkins admitted. “But think about our own history. Human history is peppered with first contact situations. Yes, many of them may have been disasters at first, but in the long run, we’ve become a starfaring species! Our entire history is the story of overcoming our problems as one and progressing towards a better future. The aliens must have had a similar history, so they will be sympathetic to us.”



“Empathy and sympathy are emotions that can only apply between humans,” Ensign Lorentz quickly shot back. “We are only able to empathize with other humans because we share the same psychological characteristics. Every human understands happiness, sadness, anger.”



“And what makes you think the aliens can’t think the same way we do? They were obviously smart enough to build starships, just like us. That means we can work out any of our problems with them, just as we have among ourselves.”



“That is more a function of rationality. They can obviously understand the universe in an objective enough way to build a working hyperspace-capable vessel. Our alien ‘friends’ may be rational beings and we can assume they have predatory instincts, but we don’t know how they think beyond that. Intelligence is not sufficient proof of psychological compatibility. There are many ways to the stars, Ensign Perkins. We can’t apply the human experience to our potential future experiences with aliens.”



Ensign Perkins shrugged. “They haven’t shot us yet. Humans in these situations do not shoot each other, they attempt to communicate. I think that points to their psychology being human-like enough to make a communication attempt likely.”



“You’re right, Ensign, they haven’t done anything,” Ensign Lorentz replied. “They haven’t deviated from their course, attempted to reenter hyperspace, or, indeed, shot us. We can derive nothing from their behavior because it hasn’t changed. For all we know, they’re ignoring us.”



Ensign Lorentz turned to address me. I feared he was going to ask me a question. Both ensigns made very good points, and I didn’t want to be dragged into the argument.



“Captain, we need to enforce the Schelling Protocol now. If we don't, it may weaken the government's resolve to continue it as a policy.”



“Would that be such a bad thing?” Ensign Perkins asked. It was a good question. The Schelling Protocol was written centuries ago, at a time when the Human Authority was in its fragile infancy. Maybe it was outdated?



“Yes,” Ensign Lorentz replied curtly. “Even if this encounter turns out positively as you assume, it is unlikely that most aliens would not shoot first. This may work out in this instance, but can we guarantee that for future encounters? We put not only ourselves at risk, but we also put future generations at risk. The Schelling Protocol exists to defend mankind. We may benefit from not firing now, but who says that in the future, everything we built won't be burnt to ash?”



Before Ensign Perkins could reply, the pair was interrupted by another officer, Ensign Howell. He was in command of the Defiance’s gunners, and he had dire news for me.



“Captain, the magnetic coils on the spinal accelerator are beginning to overheat. If we keep idling the gun, they’ll burn out, and we’ll be at the mercy of the aliens. We need to either power down the gun or fire within the next minute.”



“Do the right thing, Captain,” Ensign Perkins said.



“You know what you have to do,” Ensign Lorentz followed.



I pushed aside the three ensigns and made my way to the viewport. I wanted to get a better view of the alien vessel. I stared intently at the pinprick of light, still out there in the distance.



“Captain, your orders?” Ensign Howell asked again, a growing urgency in his voice. I paid him no heed. It was absurd, but I tried to look into the alien vessel, and into the minds of whatever beings may be inside.



What was going on in that ship?



“We need your orders now, Captain.”



I turned to face the crew. All of them were staring at me, a sea of lost and scared faces boring into my soul. For all their conviction, Ensigns Lorentz and Perkins looked the most confused of them all.



I gave my orders.