"Workin' on it." She took the shuttle to the first comm relay placement. She turned the docking lights on so that both she and the work crew would have enough light. Katch and Mike had agreed to alternate roles, one would place the relay, the other would hover nearby, to assist if necessary and be the 'safety' guard.
They opened the sliding door on the side of the cargo bay.
"Holy shit!" Clark said.
"What is it?" Stef asked.
"Damn thing takes up the whole sky out here."
"Clark?" Katch asked.
"What?"
"Just place the damned relay and stop trying to be funny."
"But I don't have to try —"
"Clark!" It was Dan Smith's voice.
"Sir?"
"Just get the relays placed and get back here alive, OK? You can do the standup routine Saturday night."
"Yes, Captain. Sorry."
"I like it that you all try to keep a good attitude. I really do. But time to focus, gentlemen. Focus."
"Yes, Captain, understood."
A minute later they heard "Set number one is in place. We're back in the shuttle, so take us to the next stop, Stef."
"OK, on to spot two."
After three placements, they came to the front of the ship. Stef backed off a couple hundred meters so they could see the whole surface, and pick a broken window to exploit. She saw one more or less in the middle and maneuvered the shuttle to it.
Katch moved out of the sliding door, a laser ruler in his gloved hand.
"Captain, I can get through this one easily. Laser says it's one point nine tall and one point two wide." Katch stowed the laser and flipped on the flashlight on the top of his glove. "I'm going to have a look inside."
"Katch, watch yourself on that broken stuff at the top," Clark warned. He was hanging in space just a few meters behind.
"Yeah, I saw that. There's nothing at the bottom so I'll keep low." Katch crawled over the opening, looking around at the interior.
"OK, so?" Stef asked.
"Openings left and right, they look more or less human-sized. No hatch or door. There are some controls under the window."
He pulled out a camera and took several pictures of the interior. He then swapped the camera for the laser ruler and got what dimensions he could, calling them out over the radio since he had nothing to write with.
"See anybody?" Stef asked.
"Nope. Not even part of anybody."
Katch took a last look around and then pulled back from the window. "OK, let's move on."
They worked their way around the wreck, placing the relays so they could see and hear one another whenever they were inside. It was a tedious task, but necessary for their safety later on.
Despite the weightlessness and the easy maneuverability of the EVA suits, both men were tired when they walked out of the shuttle back on board the ship. Mike's Weapons Maintenance crew would clean and reset the suits for the next trip. Meantime, Stef headed forward to her quarters for a shower and some rest.
Katch had much the same in mind but stopped first in the Intel section. David took the camera and loaded the photographs to the ship's central network. After Katch left, he sent Doctor Scranton the pictures taken inside the enemy ship. David could not tell much from them, but maybe she could.
David went back to his quarters before dinner in the wardroom, with Carol on his mind.
Dear Carol —
Katch and Mike Clark did the first EVA to the wreck today. Melinda Hughes and I did the final brief before they launched. Watching the two of them I think Melinda has a thing for Mike but I don't think he gets it yet. Such a good guy but even more clueless than me about this stuff.
Anyway, Melinda and I were walking back from the hangar, just talking, and I turned to say something to you. It felt strange that you weren't there, but that's how it is for me — I feel you next to me all the time, your voice in my ear. I know it sounds weird, but I love that you're there. I hope I'm there for you, too.
—David
Chaffee
Near Enemy Station
Saturday, October 15, 2078, 1045 UTC
FleetIntel Senior Lieutenant Chuck Anderson watched from the Intel workroom as Chaffee exited FTL about two million kilometers from the estimated position of Enemy Station. Mark Rhodes thought it best to arrive well short, then see if they could find the facility from a safe distance. Enemy Station had been chatty lately, and while they were enroute, FleetIntel had refined its position to within about five hundred thousand kilometers. At that distance, assuming the facility was as large as they expected, they should be able to find it easily.
As soon as they were out of FTL, Mark maneuvered Chaffee to get away from the FTL exit point. If they had made any 'noise' at all coming in, he wanted to be clear of it as soon as he could.
They spent the first twelve hours just gathering data about the surrounding area. There wasn't much to see here in the middle of nowhere. The red dwarf Gliese 687 was the closest star, but it was less than half as bright as the Sun and over ten light years away. Beta Hydri was almost twelve light years, but from there it was just a bright star, giving no real illumination to the area.
Once they finished the initial survey, the Intel and Surveillance teams worked carefully to find Enemy Station.
"So, what are we looking for, Lieutenant Anderson?" one of the Intel techs asked after several hours of watching nothing on his screen.
"I wish I knew."
"So, is it going to be big like Kapteyn? Or small like a satellite or something?"
"Our best guess is that it's going to be big, and I mean, really, really, big."
"With respect, sir, that's not very scientific."
"Agreed. But it's the best guess we have. And, yes, we could well be wrong. I suppose it could be nothing more than a Sigma Sphere."
"How are we ever going to see it? There's not much light out here."
"Well, that depends on what you consider light. Activity creates heat, and the enemy so far hasn't tried to hide themselves. So, IR might show them."
"Or?"
"Or, if it's as big as we think it is, occultation might reveal it. We'll just have to see."
After sixteen hours, Mark Rhodes called a meeting in the wardroom. Neither of his Intel and Surveillance officers had anything to report.
"Lieutenant Anderson, how good is this location? I mean, you're doing TDOA on a signal traveling almost six thousand times the speed of light."
"FleetIntel is fairly confident of the location, Commander. With the updates we received on our way out, they have about a dozen intercepts to work with. Averaging those locations should put us in the right place."
"But we don't really know what we're looking for, right?" asked Sherry Collier, the Surveillance officer.
"True. We think it's a supply depot, which based on the size of their ships would be very large. But we don't know that."
Rhodes looked around at his officers, slowly coming to a conclusion.
"OK, here's what we're going to do. Weaps, get me two Sleuths loaded out. I may not need them, but get them prepped and on a rotary."
"Yes, Captain."
"Nav, turn us towards the location FleetIntel has given us. Give me a course to miss that point in space by one hundred thousand kilometers."
"Sir, that's one-fifth the accuracy FleetIntel gave us. We might as well just head for the center!"
Mark looked at his Navigation officer, Australian Cathy McPherson, for a few seconds. She was sharp, but perhaps just a little too direct. She reminded him of Cook. On the other hand, she had a point.
"OK, just go for bullseye then."
He looked around the room.
"Maintain minimum EMR. If they're out there, our job is to slide by like a dead asteroid and get intel. We're not to let them know we're here."
"Yes, Captain, we understand," the Nav officer replied.
"Good. Keep the watch going, but all of you get some sleep. Nav, how long to
that position?"
"Uh, your call, sir, but I was thinking two days at forty thousand."
"OK, fine. Proceed."
Mark Rhodes rose and left the wardroom. He'd been up almost thirty hours himself, and it was past time to get some sleep. He took one last tour of the Bridge and slipped into his Duty Cabin.
Chuck Anderson also went to the Bridge, remaining behind the Surveillance position. After two more hours of nothing-to-report, he headed for his cabin, showered, and flopped into bed. Tomorrow will be another day, he thought, and maybe tomorrow will tell the tale.
The next morning Chuck was standing behind the Surveillance position on the Bridge when the alarm went off.
"IR target, Captain."
Rhodes came down from the command chair to see for himself. It wasn't much — just a couple pixels that weren't as black as the ones around it.
"Where is it?"
"Reads zero-two-five plus twenty. Up and to our right."
"How far?"
"Too early to tell that, sir. Give us a couple hours."
"Get the long-range telescope on it."
They moved the large-aperture visual telescope to point at the IR target and started an occultation search. The visual spectrum didn't show anything, which was no surprise since there were so few photons around to work with. But they would keep the telescope on it, and over time they might collect enough light to reveal something. Sherry Collier took Rhodes and Anderson aside.
"I'd like to get out the high-gain radio antenna, sir. But, as you know, it's not very stealthy."
"Anderson?"
"I have nothing on enemy radio transmissions, sir."
"But is it worth looking?"
"Yes, I think so."
Rhodes turned back to Collier. "OK, go ahead. Let's put it out there for a couple hours. If you don't hear anything, we'll pull it back and try again tomorrow, OK?"
"Yes, Captain."
Less than a minute later, the big dish was up and pointed at the IR return. Almost as soon as it came online, a tech called out.
"Whoa, sig-up 180." The tech pulled up the signal analysis processor to identify it. The result surprised him.
"Lieutenant Collier? Analyzer claims it's a constant wave signal. No modulation at all."
"Let me hear it."
"The only way to hear a constant wave, Lieutenant, is to tune off to one side…"
"Yeah, I know, Scott. Just give me a thousand cycle tone or whatever." She listened for several seconds, then had Scott turn it off.
"Get the antenna down," she said abruptly as she turned to the command chair. "Captain, that signal could be a constant-wave radar. I've stowed the antenna so we don't reflect back."
Anderson looked at her. "So, we've found the station?"
"No question in my mind, Chuck. That IR target is broadcasting a signal, whether it's a homing signal or an intruder detector, I can't be sure."
"OK, understood. Do we have a range to this target yet?"
"Not yet, Captain. Should have it in a couple hours."
Rhodes walked to the Nav position. "Cathy, we need to adjust course to bring us closer to the target. Bring us up ten degrees and move ten right."
"That's going to take some serious gravitons, sir."
"Yeah, I know." He paused to consider his options. There was no evidence that the enemy had an artificial graviton detector. Some experts claimed it couldn't be built, or if it could, it would be too enormous to have any practical application. Given what this enemy had already shown, Mark wasn't all that sure they couldn't build one.
Cathy McPherson waited patiently as her new captain considered his options.
"Do it slowly. Take an hour."
"Yes, Captain."
The Surveillance techs worked to reacquire the radio signal on their less-sensitive but far stealthier hull-mounted antennas. After two hours, they were able to find it and start monitoring. They also began scanning the full radio spectrum for other signals. The IR view had not changed much in that time, just growing by a pixel or two.
The time passed slowly, but finally, Cathy McPherson could make an estimate of the target's location. She pulled Rhodes, Anderson, and Cathy McPherson together in the right corner of the Bridge.
"Range is about one-point-five million klicks, sir. On our current course, the closest approach is about two-hundred-sixty thousand."
"Almost the distance to the Moon," Rhodes said, thinking. Then he turned to his Navigator. "Slow us down, Cathy. Now that we have a real target, there's no hurry to get there. And turn us another five degrees towards them."
"And, slow us down slowly?"
Rhodes smiled. "Yes, exactly. Let's make it twelve thousand."
"Yes, sir will do."
As his officers went back to their tasks, Mark looked around the Bridge of his new ship. Chaffee was so far untested in combat, but he liked what he saw. Lots of strong personalities getting along and sharing their strong opinions. He'd been on ships with far less functional Bridge officers. While he knew the captain had much to do with the work environment on his ship, he'd just inherited this crew and could take little credit for what he now saw. He'd have to remember to thank the former captain and XO. They'd clearly left him a very good crew.
As he was considering how he could best maintain the spirit of the ship, the occultation alarm went off.
Antares
Intel Section
Monday, October 16. 2078, 0830 UTC
Antares had been in the low orbit Intel Chief Jack Ballard had requested for more than three days. This morning the automated image analyzer kicked out several images, and he was now trying to understand what might be there. There were hot spots, for sure, that appeared right after local dusk and then faded. They'd never been over this ground at this time of day before, and Jack smiled inwardly that his hunch might turn out to be correct.
The hot spots were arranged in a line behind a beach on the east coast of the continent. This island continent was smaller than the first one they had explored, but it was at about the same latitude, and so maintained a similar climate. Most of it was flat grassland, but towards the east there was a mountain range that terminated suddenly at the shoreline.
"If I needed to hide," Jack said to himself, "This is where I might go."
Carol Hansen heard him and got up from her own review of photography of the third continent in the southern hemisphere.
"Show me."
Jack pointed to the IR scans with no heat during the day, then hot after dusk.
"So, cooking fires?"
"I don't know, Carol, but maybe, yeah. If that's right, there aren't enough for it to be a very large group."
"Not if they were human."
"So, what are you saying?"
"Well, based on the portrait, I did a little research. Back home, large predators don't eat every day. If these people have that kind of physiology, they might not be feeding everyone every day."
"Interesting. I'll keep that in mind. But, Carol, large predators back home don't cook their food."
Carol smiled. "Depends on your definition of predator, Jack."
"Huh. Point taken."
"Now, what are they cooking, and where did they get it?"
"Carol, you know this thing you do where I work all day to get answers and all you have is more questions?"
"Yeah, it's one of my better character traits."
"It's annoying sometimes."
"Yeah, that, too."
She stood up to go back to her work, giving Ballard a quick squeeze on the shoulder as she went. Her continent was completely different. It was further from the equator, nearly halfway to the southern polar cap. People could live there, but it would be like living in Siberia in the late fall, only more so since there would be no summer. It would just be cold all the time.
Aboard the Enemy Wreck
GL 876
Sunday, October 16, 2078, 1000 UTC
David shifted his stance, trying to remain on the deck o
f the enemy ship as he switched on the small magnets in the soles of his boots.
"There. Better!" He turned around to watch Melinda Hughes slide easily through the window, and gently guided her to a standing position. She flipped the same control and settled quickly to the floor.
"OK, I have the map open." Melinda took the lead as they made their way past the compartments that had already been examined. Katch insisted on a methodical, compartment-by-compartment investigation of the wreck, starting from the window he had first peered into. This was the second day two-person teams had entered through that broken opening and awkwardly made their way further back in the ship.
There were already a few areas where the damage was severe and ragged shards of wreckage were hanging loosely, ready to tear the EVA suit of any careless passer-by. So far, there was no sign of the crew in the dozen or so compartments they had searched. The controls they found were a mystery, too, but didn't appear to be anything more advanced than what might have been found on an early Forstmann ship. The tech seemed to be more analog than the fleet's, with physical dials instead of flat screens. David felt a little like he was exploring an old battleship in a museum. The walls were a plain off-white, covered with some kind of paint or other coating. But for now, understanding the tech was not a priority; finding the enemy was.
Melinda stopped at a new opening to photograph it. "So, David, where do you suppose they went?"
"Beats me. At the time, I thought they had all been incinerated. But these spaces don't really support that."
"The BGH is bent outwards. I suppose it's possible all that heat went out the sides and not up into this space?"
"Seems reasonable." David looked around as he waited for Melinda to finish her pictures. They would be used to add to the map they were creating of the interior of the wrecked enemy ship.
"And then somehow they got off? Got away?"
"Again, seems logical. But we gotta keep —"
His sudden mid-sentence silence caught her attention. "David?"
"Turn around, Lieutenant Hughes." Melinda, struck by the suddenly serious tone of David's voice, slowly turned to look over his shoulder. He was now kneeling, as best he could, and shining his flashlight on the floor.
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