“What does that leave?” asked Flint. “I don’t believe there’s a substance durable enough to withstand multiple armour-piercing impacts and the subsequent plasma explosions.”
“I’m sure you’re right, sir. It’s as if the Kilvar armour is in a changed state – like it’s a step ahead or a step behind in time, or…”
“Go on…”
“Or like it’s partway through a transition to lightspeed.” Fredericks exhaled. “I’m throwing out guesses here. Don’t take them as truth.”
“I won’t, Lieutenant. Remember that anything we discover now is something we can use later. These assholes won’t stop at Tibulon.” Flint turned and gave his full attention to the bulkhead screen, where the Kilvar warship was repositioning again. “It’s moving over the main research facility,” he said.
Several plasma explosions flashed around the structure’s western wall and a two more appeared south. The blasts weren’t nearly large enough to collapse the building, leaving Flint to assume the Kilvar had chosen a blunt method to force an opening.
On one of the cusp satellite feeds, a tiny shape detached itself from the midsection of the attacking spaceship and fell rapidly towards the surface.
“There’s the troop deployment,” said Maddox. “I checked the files and we only have a couple of platoons stationed here. If any survived the destruction of the barracks, they’ve got a shitstorm heading their way.”
Flint dearly wanted to speak with someone on the ground. Unfortunately, the comms satellites would only route through the surface hub - which the Kilvar had destroyed – or a primary resource like a fleet warship. Smaller ground traffic – such as suit comms – couldn’t link for security reasons. Not every facility was configured in this way, but whoever had installed the comms system on Tibulon had evidently decided it was necessary.
“We need line of sight to speak to whoever’s left,” said Flint, cursing at the limitation. He opened the list of personnel based on Tibulon. Many of the names he didn’t recognize. Then, he saw one that he did. “Well would you look at this?”
“Sir?”
“Lieutenant James Vance – a real hero from the Lavorix and Daklan wars – he’s stationed at the refinery.”
“The Lieutenant James Vance?” asked Fredericks. He laughed in disbelief. “I can’t believe he’s here at Tibulon.”
“I’ve never heard of him,” said Lieutenant Bolan.
“He was with Fleet Admiral Recker throughout the Lavorix campaign,” said Flint. “Every time you hear a tale about Captain Recker, Sergeant Vance – as he was ranked back then - was probably with him.” A few other names on the list were suddenly familiar. “Drawl, Raimi, Carrington, Gantry, Hendrix. I remember these – they were each given the highest military awards.”
“If they’re so decorated, what are they doing out here instead of on a tropical base somewhere, soaking up the sun?” asked Bolan.
“It doesn’t work that way, Lieutenant.” Flint experienced a wave of optimism at the news. “If even a tenth of the stories are true, the Kilvar are going to have fight on their hands to get hold of that exium.”
“Not much ground troops can do against an orbit-launched missile,” said Bolan, with the attitude of a man who’d been taught by one of those officers who believed the only important people in the military were found onboard a warship.
“Let’s wait and see,” said Flint.
“Sir, I’ve located the Langinstol!” said Becerra, jumping up. “It’s way out from here, but it’s in one piece. I can’t confirm if they’ve suffered damage or not.”
“What about a comms receptor? Can you find one?” asked Flint in excitement.
“No, sir. They’re probably offline.”
“Lieutenant Fredericks, what do you know about annihilators?” asked Flint.
“Plenty, sir, but not as much as Daklan officer.”
“Is it viable for the Langinstol’s crew to bring their propulsion into an operational state in the same way as we did?”
“I guessed you were about to ask that,” said Fredericks with a rueful smile. “That’s the kind of question only an experienced Daklan engine officer, or maybe one of their old-hand shipyard technicians, could answer. Those aliens are resourceful as hell. I bet they’ll figure something out, I just couldn’t tell you what sort of problems they’re facing and how long it’ll take them to get things running again.”
“I’ve discovered something else, sir!” said Becerra. “The same satellite that tracked our warships is also registering a live connection from a ground source that isn’t the main comms hub.”
“What do you mean?” asked Flint.
“We – the alliance - have recently started training some of our ground troops in the use of additional comms gear, sir. Specifically, booster packs that are more capable than suit comms. I’ve checked the audit trail and a ground pack is linked to one of the cusp nodes. It’s receiving a visual data stream of the facility.”
“Can you send voice comms over the same link?” asked Flint.
“I certainly can, sir. The booster pack is assigned to a Daklan soldier named Corporal Charnos. Should I open the link?”
“Do it,” said Flint. “Put him on the bridge open channel. We all need to hear what he has to say.”
If Corporal Charnos was surprised by the comms link, he didn’t show sign of it. “Who is this?” he asked, his voice particularly rough-edged.
Becerra muted the comms. “Uh - I didn’t make introductions,” she said.
“No matter,” said Flint. He unmuted the channel. “This is Captain William Flint of the alliance warship Loadout. What is your situation, Corporal?”
“We are underground. I will divert this channel to Lieutenant Vance.”
“Thank you.”
Vance entered the channel and he had a gravel voice as well, though compared to the Daklan he sounded dulcet. Speaking quickly, Flint outlined what had occurred above the base and Vance outlined what had occurred within it.
“We’re in the subterranean level above the vault, sir,” he said. “The vault is an area beneath the facility where they run the tests which are judged to have an uncertain outcome.”
Flint smiled. “Diplomatically put, Lieutenant. How much protection will it offer against an enemy trying to break in?”
“We haven’t reached it yet, sir – we’re on our way to a secondary airlift. I’m told it’s on a separate security circuit to the topside areas. Whether that’s going to make it harder for the Kilvar to gain access or not, I couldn’t tell you.”
“I’m sure help is coming, Lieutenant, but I don’t know if it’s going to be any use when it gets here.”
“We’re not giving up this prototype, sir,” said Vance with steel in his voice. “If I have to, I’ll fit pack charges to it and blow it to pieces.”
“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I wish I had some good news for you. If our weapons had any effect on the enemy ship, we’d attack even with our propulsion output way down.”
“Maybe something will come up, sir. Can you enable two-way comms, so we can request a channel to the Loadout ourselves?”
Flint turned to find Becerra nodding vigorously. “If you keep that booster pack linked to the comms satellite, I can make that happen,” she said.
“We’ll do that,” Vance agreed.
“I’ll contact you again shortly,” said Flint.
The channel went dead, leaving him pondering this development. Communication was good, but it wasn’t always obvious how to make best use of it.
“We’ve received a channel request from Lieutenant Vance,” said Becerra.
“Already? Accept it,” said Flint.
Vance didn’t waste time. “I’ve got RL Moseley with me, sir,” he said. “There’s not much of a command structure on Tibulon, but he’s the lead scientist. He wants to speak with you.”
“That’s fine,” said Flint. “Please transfer the channel to his comms unit.”
The
bridge speakers hummed for a second and then a new voice spoke. “Captain Flint? I’m Research Lead Moseley – head of research at the Tibulon facility.”
“What can I do for you?” asked Flint, more than a little curious.
“I’m not sure, Captain Flint. I’ve spoken to Lieutenant Vance and he advises me that the attacking warship was unharmed by your weapons.”
“That’s right, RL Moseley. Missile and Terrus impacts had no effect, nor did explosives or particle beams.”
“Do you have any theories as to the cause of this apparent invulnerability? Have your sensors gathered any data that might be of use?”
“Maybe I should answer that one. I’m Lieutenant Fredericks – the Loadout’s senior engine officer.”
“From the Pulveriser,” said Moseley at once.
“Way back when,” said Fredericks. “I’ve analysed the sensor data and there’s no indication they’re using an energy shield or anything like a mesh deflector. In fact, the only other occasion I’ve heard about this kind of defence is from…”
“The Lavorix mothership,” said Moseley.
“And we never cracked the code on how that worked,” said Fredericks. “Maybe we never will.”
Moseley sounded excited and worried at the same time. “I’ve had an idea which may help.”
“What’s your plan?” asked Flint.
“It’s an idea, not a plan, Captain. I’ll assume you know about the difficulties we’ve been having in evolving superstressed ternium into a more usable state, and that you also know the purpose of the Tibulon facility. We tested numerous stabilisation methods before we hit upon one which created exium.”
“I appreciate you telling me this, RL Moseley – where is it heading?”
“All of the earlier methods failed, though their outcomes weren’t necessarily of no interest to us. In fact, many of the failures have opened up new avenues of research that the alliance is currently pursuing. And might I add…”
Flint recognised Moseley’s type at once. He was the sort of person who could talk about his work for days until someone pointed out that maybe it was time he had a shower, ate that plate of food which had been sitting untouched on his desk for ten hours and perhaps went to the toilet. Every research facility had personnel like Moseley.
“Putting these other research avenues to one side, how might the failures benefit our specific circumstances, RL Moseley?” said Flint quickly. He was determined to keep the discussion as focused as possible.
“Outside the vault, we built an ingar reactor,” said Moseley, his choice of words making it abundantly clear that the reactor should have been constructed inside the vault rather than outside. “This reactor is capable of running fusion experiments on ingar and ternium at varying levels of overstress. The output is then channelled into…”
“What can it do for us?” asked Flint, cutting firmly across Moseley’s attempt to expand the explanation.
“It can create an explosion.”
“Explosives don’t work against the enemy warship,” said Flint.
“Plasma explosions don’t work, Captain. What I’m talking about will be different.”
“What kind of different?”
Moseley cleared his throat, a clear sign he was preparing to launch into a long-winded explanation when a short one would do. In the interests of keeping things civil, Flint gave the man some slack.
“Well, Captain, the reactor can introduce an incredible level of overstress on its ternium stores. If ingar is introduced in the wrong quantities, that’s when it gets interesting. Explosively interesting.”
“Keep talking,” said Flint.
“And like I said, this will be a different kind of explosion. More of a depletion burst than what you’d normally categorise as a blast,” said Moseley conspiratorially.
Flint knew what a depletion burst was – it was the destructive energy created by the same tenixite converters which had destroyed planet Fortune.
“Weren’t some of the Lavorix ships immune to depletion bursts?” he asked, racking his brain for facts. “What makes you think the Kilvar won’t have the same defensive technology?”
“This won’t be the same kind of depletion burst, Captain Flint.” Moseley took in a breath. “On the very smallest of scales, the reactions between ingar and ternium are incredibly interesting. The materials interact together in such a way as to release vastly more energy – on a mass comparative scale – than anything else we’ve encountered before. The Lavorix depletion bursts were fairly crude and required a large quantity of ternium ore. What I am proposing will have far more finesse.”
“And this reaction will destroy the enemy spaceship, while you and the other facility personnel hide safely in the vault?”
“If not destroy the enemy craft, then disrupt its defences,” said Moseley, sounding a little too cheerful for Flint’s liking.
“We know what happens when we play around with superstressed ternium,” said Lieutenant Fredericks. “When it goes critical, it generates a stasis field which, as far as we’re aware, doesn’t decay.”
“That isn’t entirely correct, Lieutenant. As I’ve been trying to explain, if the ternium is superstressed and a certain quantity of ingar is introduced, an expulsion is produced which is somewhere between an explosion and a stasis field. An expulsion created by an energy we do not yet understand.”
And there it was, dropped in at the end – a not-quite-spelled-out admission from RL Moseley that he could make the reactor explode, but that he had absolutely no idea whether it would be enough to damage the Kilvar warship. To Flint, it sounded suspiciously like an experiment for the sake of experimentation – a proposal from a man who, as a child, had probably set his undergarments alight just to see if they would burn with a brown smoke.
“This is pure speculation, isn’t it?” asked Flint, seeing if the question would cut through Moseley’s unshakeable optimism. “A scientific hunch.”
“All discoveries begin with speculation, Captain Flint. And extremes of circumstance give rise to the bravery required to turn that speculation into proven fact.”
“Can you guarantee the explosion won’t rupture the vault and kill everyone taking shelter inside?” asked Flint, not wishing to be drawn into a philosophical debate.
“I can nearly guarantee it,” said Moseley. “Clearly our earlier tests were on a much smaller scale, but repeated sufficiently for us to be almost certain as to the scaling exponent.”
“Almost certain. RL Moseley, there are a lot of people in that vault, relying on you getting this right,” said Flint.
“I think I can speak for nearly everyone when I say we are very keen to see the outcome of the test.”
“Is Lieutenant Vance agreeable?”
“This is your decision to make, Captain. Besides, the vault is equipped with mesh deflectors which are likely to keep us protected.”
Flint took a calming breath. Moseley’s measurable intelligence was doubtless way off the charts, but he clearly had a mentality not far different to that of a child, and it sounded as if the facility was crammed with like-minded individuals. Crazy folk some might call them.
“RL Moseley, you’re aware that even if the vault remains intact, you could be trapped underground for weeks or months until we can excavate the rubble and get you out of there?”
“We’ll soon be in the vault – once there I will have the tools to run a blast simulation, although some of the variables may require later fine-tuning depending on the actual outcome of the coming test. We’ll be deep underground and the blast – should it be more physical than disruptive - will naturally create a hemisphere owing to the solidity of the ground, so I’m confident we will be absolutely secure. Should the worst happen and we become temporarily trapped, we have almost everything we require to continue our research. In fact – we might use the time to create even more exium.”
Drawing in yet more Kilvar. The thought made Flint think hard about the downsides of delay. The Kilvar
had sent a lone ship and only a fool would bet against it being equipped with a real time FTL transmitter. If the enemy encountered problems stealing the exium, a high probability existed that they’d call in reinforcements. Or simply incinerate the facility. From the sounds of it, the Kilvar would now be aware of the subterranean levels and they might just have weaponry capable of penetrating the vault, with or without those mesh deflectors. A few energy beams would likely heat the alloy casing enough to cook anyone inside.
The unavoidable conclusion was that success depended on decisive action.
“Can we afford to lose the exium?” Flint wondered out loud. “Or would it be better to send the prototype back to the surface and give the Kilvar what they came here for?”
“They’ve chosen this time to attack, sir,” said Lieutenant Fredericks. “In my mind, the Kilvar don’t want us to have the exium. They want to grab what we’ve made to confirm if it’s viable and after that, they’ll blow the facility anyway.”
“And if it’s not viable, they’ll keep a close watch on the alliance and next time we show signs of being able to challenge their own tech, they’ll launch a full-scale attack.” Flint knew he was guessing, but occasionally those guesses hit upon a logical answer.
“Or maybe they’ll have seen enough from the existing sample of exium to decide we need cutting down to size,” said Moseley, his scientific exuberance replaced unexpectedly by realistic sobriety.
“Tell me again about the reactor,” said Flint, making up his mind. “Tell me what you propose.”
Having already confessed his idea, Moseley’s telling didn’t take long. At the end of it, Flint felt drained and asked himself if he was signing the death warrant of the people heading to the vault. It was the first time he’d been faced with a decision like this and he suddenly understood what responsibility his captaincy of the Loadout entailed.
It was sink or swim time, and Flint hoped beyond hope that he wouldn’t go under.
Chapter Ten
The details were ironed out, leaving Flint with a few minutes of contemplation before action. Once again, he asked himself if there was an alternative approach to the problem, such as simply waiting for reinforcements to arrive and see what followed. He shook his head at the thought – those reinforcements were heading straight into a bloodbath and if there was a way to prevent them being taken apart by that Kilvar warship, he had a duty to find it.
Dark of the Void (Forged Alliance Book 1) Page 10
