by Kal Spriggs
I reacted in surprise, “Sir, I’d rather stay here and--”
“That’s an order, cadets,” he snapped. “I’ve uploaded your course. Go. Now.”
I swallowed and brought my drive up, Kyle falling in next to me. The Mark Three Firebolts had a top velocity of just under point seven of the speed of light and they hit that velocity within seconds. Even then, it would take us almost four and a half hours to to reach close transmissions range. Since our long range transmitters were inoperable, that was going to cause problems.
Century Station would pick us up going to full speed, even at that distance, as soon as the emissions from our drives reached them... in around three hours. That would still be almost an hour and a half before we arrived, so they’d see us coming with some warning, enough that they could launch a ship with faster-than-light drive to intercept and query us.
But if this was sabotage, at this point, the message would have arrived back at Century. The Admiral would have my message, but whoever had set things up wouldn't know that. They'd be operating under the assumption that they could still keep this quiet.
At point seven of light speed, everything was distorted on our sensors. That was part of why we did patrols at lower speeds, so that the distortion was lower. As it was, the Firebolt's computers tried to adjust for the distortion, but there wasn't a lot they could do. Everything in front of us became just a wash of high-energy, while everything behind faded into near-nothingness.
Since we were traveling in tandem, we could at least communicate with each-other, but even then, the impairment from our warp envelope drive fields added a level of distortion.
“How long, do you think?” Kyle asked.
“How long, what?” I asked.
“How long until whoever this is takes action?” Kyle asked. “I mean, I can do the math. They will have received the message back on Century, now, and...”
“I guess that assumes that Century is where the message was sent,” I said. “But it could have been to a waiting ship, I suppose.”
“You think they'll have a ship just waiting out here?” he asked. He had a point, we were in the outer system. Out past us, there wasn't much to speak of, just a few tiny stellar bodies, chunks of ice, frozen methane, and ammonia. Century's system didn't have as much clutter in the outer system as others. There were no outer system stations and no natural objects more than a few hundred feet across. Any ship hanging out in the great darkness out there would have been floating in nothingness, staying quiet and dark to avoid detection.
“Maybe it went to Century, maybe it was just to buy Arco Dynamics some time,” I answered.
“Maybe they had a whole fleet waiting and we just kicked off their invasion plan,” Kyle answered.
That was a possibility that I'd been trying to not think about. An enemy that had compromised our systems this much would have seen an attack on us as an easy thing to pull off. They'd know our patrols, they'd know our attack maneuvers, and they could predict how our missiles would conduct their final approaches. It wouldn't matter how many ships or fighters we had, our evasive maneuvers wouldn't be effective and they'd be able to hit us with almost every shot... at least, if the algorithm was rigged like we suspected.
That meant that all of our space-based defenses were vulnerable. The only area that someone would need to worry would be on the ground, and I already knew that Charterer Beckman had some part in their plan. Our discovery might have acted as a trigger. If they'd decided to move in, to attack rather than risk discovery, then there might already be a fleet in orbit over Century.
As we drew further and further away from Summit Station, I couldn't help but wonder if we might be the only Militia vessels left alive. We couldn't see what was ahead of us. Century Station, for all we knew, was gone. With our long-range comms burned out and our drives at maximum, we couldn't see, couldn't hear.
I'd never felt so helpless in my life.
***
The Forerunner-class destroyer emerged from FTL warp at a distance of less than five hundred thousand kilometers. At the speeds we were traveling, that gave Kyle and I less than two and a half seconds to react and we were in weapons range for most of that time.
Without our implants, there was no way we could have reacted in time, especially since we'd disabled our evasion software. As it was, he and I reacted as one, looping up and out of the way, jinking up and then back down as the destroyer opened fire with lasers and particle beams. Our fighters had a thirty degree turning arc and I used every scrap of that, sweeping out and back and corkscrewing as I did it to shake the enemy weapons fire.
We flashed past it, barely able to see it, barely able to even identify what it was. I registered odd details as I executed commands through my implant, dropping my Firebolt back onto the straight-line course as soon as we'd left weapons range.
"You okay?" I asked Kyle.
"Yeah, I might need to change my pants... that was close."
I found myself giggling in response. "You aren't the only one, good thing the flight suits have connections for that." I pulled up data on the enemy ship, pulling any details I could as we ran away. Luckily, the enemy destroyer didn't have a deep enough warp drive to stay with us in tactical warp and, since it had energy weapons, it couldn't fire heavy energy weapons at us and maintain any kind of speed either, not on a destroyer's hull, so it couldn't stay with us... not in tactical warp, anyway.
It was, as some part of my brain had noticed, a Forerunner-class destroyer. It had interceptor-class lasers as well as heavy particle beams from two sets of turrets. It had an FTL capable warp drive, a proper warp drive rather than a warp envelope like our fighters, which meant it could ignore our laser armaments. What it didn't have was a transponder... of any kind. Normally, even in times of war, ships operated their transponders. They identified where a ship came from and the only reason anyone would turn their transponder off would be if they were doing something massively illegal.
Sort of like attacking Militia ships without provocation.
"Pirates?" Kyle asked. I could tell, even through the distortion, that he didn't believe it. Pirates shouldn't have been able to pull something like the subversion of our military-grade software. Pirates probably couldn't have arranged for a mid-system FTL course intercept like this destroyer had executed. And most pirates didn't have access to ships as big and powerful as a Forerunner. The ships were only one generation out of use in Guard Fleet, and even they still had some of the ships in service. But we both knew that one nation had recently received a number of ships as a "gift" from Guard Fleet.
"Drakkus," I answered, "it's got to be."
"This sucks," he said, "and you know, sooner or later he's going to--"
The ship vanished from our rear sensors. Seconds later, it materialized in front of us, once more. This time, it was close enough that it opened fire immediately.
I juked to the side and an interceptor beam grazed the edge of my warp field. Enough energy transferred that the drive field's energy level peaked. Alarms screamed and I rolled down under the enemy destroyer and then back up, dodging and weaving as much as I could, using every scrap of movement I had, splitting my focus between analyzing incoming fire patterns, flying, and trying to keep my warp drive from exploding.
I somehow managed all three and I cleared weapons range. But I saw that Kyle wasn't flying next to me anymore.
The destroyer had stopped firing and it had brought up its warp drive. I saw why after only a moment. Kyle's fighter must have taken a hit. He'd veered off to the side and even through the distortion on my sensors, I could see his drive field blazing with energy.
That meant his drive core would be cooking itself, trying to manage those levels of energy. It was a wonder it hadn't simply blown apart, shredding him and his fighter with it. "Kyle," I messaged, "eject your drive core."
"If I do that, I'll be a sitting duck," he snapped back. His fighter wasn't able to maintain anything like its maximum speed, not with the drive a
bout to explode. The enemy destroyer was catching up to him, quickly. He only had ten or twenty seconds... and then the destroyer was going to come for me.
They weren't going to leave any witnesses. Century Station would register the ship's presence. We were only two hours out from the planet at this point. But by the time they saw we were under attack, the destroyer would jump again and it would get me, next time.
Kyle saw that too... and as the destroyer approached, I saw him begin to loop around, preparing for an attack run.
Hell no, I thought to myself.
I whipped my fighter around, turning it as hard as I could, lining it up on an intercept course on the enemy destroyer that I threw together as I maneuvered. My drive field was already at a hundred percent, but I pulled power from all my other systems, siphoning more power into the drive.
It was dangerous. It was reckless. My mission was to get to Century and warn the Militia of the risk... and I ignored that. Kyle had lined up his attack run and the destroyer saw him and me coming in, just as I pulled my fighter alongside Kyle and dropped my speed back. I could feel the enemy destroyer captain making the decision. At this point, he could have jumped, but he saw the end, his prey came to him and he knew he was going to win.
I'd been running the analysis of the enemy interceptor fire and I'd noticed that the destroyer had opened up focusing on specific areas, then gone to a more random structure, almost as if they had programmed their fire to match our evasive maneuvers. With the second volley, they'd gone with a more calculated approach, firing on standard approaches, working outside in.
They probably would have done analysis too, seeking trends, looking for where we'd be, where they'd hit us. They'd focus there and the destroyer had more than enough firepower to sweep two little fighters out of space.
Our particle beams were light weapons, designed to disrupt the drive fields on fighters or missiles, they wouldn't have any effect on a destroyer at all. That meant our only viable weapons were our antimatter bombs and we had to get almost in contact with the destroyer's drive fields to have an effect. I couldn't go in at full speed, Kyle's drive core was barely holding together. The destroyer was going to take us both down...
As we dropped towards the enemy, closing the last few seconds before contact, I had an idea. It was stupid, it was wasteful. But it might just work.
"Kyle," I said, "on my mark, drop your bombs." I ran through the numbers in my head, "Now!"
He dropped his antimatter bombs and triggered they detonated a half-second later. As all four of the fifty megaton warheads detonated, I put my drive envelope to full power and dove straight at the enemy destroyer.
For just a single second, the destroyer's sensors were blinded. The weapons opened up anyway, the enemy knowing that I'd be coming in... but they fired blind and they fired in the outside-in pattern that would have worked best against a fighter trying to evade.
I didn't evade, I went in straight, my drive core screaming as I fed every ounce of energy I could into it, and as I whipped past the enemy destroyer I released my antimatter bombs in a cluster.
They detonated in sequence, a staggered chain designed to overload a warpfield. Four direct hits like that could have knocked out the drive field of a cruiser, much less a destroyer and I gave a whoop as the destroyer's field collapsed.
My cry of joy cut off as my drive field collapsed a second later. All my systems shut down only seconds after that, including life-support. I'd used every bit of extra power... up to and including draining the small ship's entire emergency power. My antimatter plant was still live, but I’d burned all the conduit from it to the rest of the Firebolt, so for all intents and purposes, I had nothing.
I was dead in space, with no comms, no weapons, no life-support. I couldn't even see if Kyle was still alive. I might die if no one came to rescue me soon enough. Above me, though, I could see the tumbling wreckage of the destroyer as the light from Century's star caught it.
Totally worth it, though, I thought to myself.
***
Chapter 19: I Live And So Did My Pet Project
I didn't die. Kyle hadn't either, though detonating his antimatter bombs so closely after dropping them had knocked out his already-damaged drive field and he'd ejected his drive core just before it had detonated. He at least had retained emergency power, which meant he'd been able to hear the radio transmissions from the Century Planetary Militia destroyer that came out to investigate and he'd been able to talk them in on his position and where he'd last seen me.
As soon as my warp drive had burned out, I'd basically stopped moving. So his position, mine, and that of the enemy wreck were all fairly close together, minus some spin and velocity imparted by the solar wind and the detonations. The destroyer had taken rather large bursts of radiation from the antimatter detonations, so it had moved the most of the three of us, along with shedding parts and pieces.
They pulled me out of my Firebolt, tagged it for salvage, and Kyle and I found ourselves debriefing Commander Tran, the commanding officer of the destroyer Eagle. He glared at us as we explained everything from our initial discovery all the way up to our arrival here.
His expression was stern when he finally spoke. "Century Station picked up the drives of several vessels moving on Summit Station, followed by large yield detonations in their vicinity shortly before we left. The cruiser Liberty went to investigate with escorts, but from what you've told me, I suspect we already know what we'll find."
My chest tightened at that news. Our Firebolt's sensors wouldn't have picked any of that up, not at the speeds we'd been traveling.
"For now, we're going to get you two back to Century Station. Admiral Armstrong has taken charge of the response and she'll need to hear what you both have to say," his stern expression wavered slightly. "I will say, good work on that destroyer. Solid kill."
"Thank you, sir," we chorused.
The trip back to Century Station took only a minute and it took longer to dock than it did to travel that distance. An armed escort met us at the airlock and within a few minutes, Kyle and I were back in the Admiral's office. To my surprise, Commander Weisfeldt was with her.
"Ma'am, sir," I saluted, "Cadet--"
"Yes, yes," Commander Weisfeldt waved an absent hand, "we recognize you... both of you," he nodded at Kyle. "Cadet Regan."
“I thought I’d heard you retired, sir,” I blurted
“That’s just the cover story, he’s been working on a… very special project. Now, I need you both to describe every detail of the past few hours, everything from where you sent me the message, onward," the Admiral said. Her blue eyes glittered dangerously. "As of this moment, the two of you are the only survivors from Summit Station."
I flinched at her words. "It's true, then, they killed them all?"
She just nodded. I thought about the harried Lieutenant Thomas, and the irritating Lieutenant Koga, and Commander Arton's ugly, horse-like face. They were dead. All of them. Drakkus had killed them, to keep their advantage a secret. Just like they tried to kill me.
Kyle and I took turns speaking, detailing how Kyle had triggered the code with his search parameters and how the station crew and officers had responded. I finished up with our flight and subsequent fight.
"Now, I've been looking over the data correlations and I need samples of the fire data you picked up from your fighters and your flight records from your implants."
"Sir?" I asked in confusion.
"He's trying to see just how compromised our software is," the Admiral answered. "Ideally, it's just predictable patterns within the patrol routes, maybe a number or sequence tied into the date that causes these issues."
"Why not just open up the code and examine it?" Kyle asked with a frown. "Surely if there's anything like that--"
"I'd like to avoid any further traps that Arco Dynamics may have slipped into their code. We already suspected there was some kind of sabotage code that took down Summit Station's comms, your report confirmed it."
"The other reason we can't crack their code open," The Admiral bit out, "is we don't own it. We lease it, it is proprietary code designed by Arco Dynamics for the Enforcers."
"For the Enforcers?" I asked in surprise, "But why does the Militia use code designed for the Enforcers, wouldn't we develop our own?"
"We would have, in fact we did," Commander Weisfeldt grinned, "right up until Lieutenant General Corgan of the Enforcers offered it up as a 'cost saving' method... and Charterer Beckman forced us to accept it."
"Beckman?!" I hissed. Everything seemed to come back to the horrid woman.
"Beckman?" Kyle snapped his fingers, his eyes going wide, "That's where I recognized Arco Dynamics from... she bought them out two years ago! I did a report on them my Plebe year, since they were one of the new competitors of Champion Enterprises after the big shakeup from Issac Champion being indicted!"
"Exactly," the Admiral replied. She waved at Commander Weisfeldt, who cleared his throat. "Your data?" he asked.
We transferred the information from our implants and Commander Weisfeldt went about recreating our encounters with the unknown destroyer. While he worked on that, I went over to where the Admiral stood, her expression stern. "Do we know who was behind this attack?" I asked.
"Despite any suspicions we may have, we have no evidence," she answered.
"No evidence?!” I demanded. “That lying, treasonous kutya is responsible for the deaths of over a hundred people at Summit Station! We should--”
“We will not be doing anything, cadet,” the Admiral snapped. “Any kind of civil or criminal case against a Charterer has to be handled in the right manner or we’d be opening ourselves to a massive constitutional crisis. Everything we’ve seen of how these people operate, they want us to be thrown into chaos. If someone in the military moved to remove her forcibly, she could, legally, call on the Enforcers to prevent a coup.”
“You think the Enforcers are a part of this?” Kyle asked in shock.
“They’d only need a handful,” Weisfeldt muttered from where he worked. “Key leaders, people in the right places to send orders. Create enough confusion and people will listen to the ones in charge.”
