Legacy of the Saiph

by P P Corcoran

  John had known Admiral Jing long enough to know that the man appreciated honesty, above all else, no matter if that honesty meant bad news. “Itus and its ships are fit to go to war tomorrow, but if you want Itus to be operating at peak performance, I’ll need three, possibly four months to bring it up to the well-oiled machine it was before Guzman.” John took a deep breath steeling himself for his next words, for they had to be said. “Even then, Admiral, if Itus was to go up against a Black Ship force even half its size, I have no doubt that it would be a death sentence for my ships and their crews.” John spared a glance for Jeff who had begun tapping the tabletop with a finger poised beside one of his PADs. John returned his attention to Jing. “As long as the Black Ships can hide behind their energy shields, we may as well be flinging rocks at them, and, God forbid we encounter any of their ships armed with the antimatter warheads that destroyed Dagger Station then...”

  Jing understood John’s unfinished sentence. The head of the combined Commonwealth forces knew that no matter how many ships and men he had under his command the Saiph and their Black Ships had an advantage in their combination of energy shields and antimatter warheads that was, for the moment, insurmountable.

  “Doctor Moore.” Said Jing cocking his head in the direction of the scientist. “I believe this is where you inform us that you have made a miraculous breakthrough and are able to supply the fleet with any number of extraordinary weapons to suit Admiral Radford’s needs.”

  Jeff’s cheeks blew out and he released an irritated sigh. “If only that were true, sir.” Jeff entered a command into one of the multiple PADs arrayed before him and a wire frame schematic of a sleek, deadly looking missile snapped into holographic existence, hovering at head height in the middle of the table.

  “This, Gentlemen, is our latest antimatter weapon. It is a variant of the test bed used by Admiral Glandinning in conjunction with a highly experimental, multi-frequency Gravity Drive to circumvent the areas of null space generated by the Others’ Gravity Drive interference buoys. These buoys effectively prevented our forces from reaching Earth and reinforcing First Fleet during their assault.”

  “And a close-run thing that was.” Muttered John whose comment earned a sage-like nod from Jing. Many a wannabe strategy expert had expressed the view that if Jing had not raced to the defense of Alona, taking the bulk of Earth’s available forces with him, then those same forces would have been in a position to repulse the Others’ attack with ease, and it was only luck that the Others had not scorched all life from the surface of humanity’s home world.

  Only with the staunch and unwavering backing of then President Rebecca Coston had Jing weathered the political storm which screamed for his resignation and indictment on charges of gross negligence.

  Many a military man had thanked their god, that Jing had retained his position, for it was the wily old admiral who had orchestrated the Commonwealth’s final victory over the Others and who now led the battle against the Black Ships.

  “So, where are we with bringing this new wonder weapon into general use?” Asked Jing.

  Jeff slouched back in his chair allowing an exasperated sigh to pass his lips.

  That’s not good, thought John as a frown creased his friend’s forehead.

  “The antimatter missiles deployed in that action where our entire stock.” Said Jeff.

  “I’m well aware of that, Doctor.” Jing said allowing a hint of frustration to color his voice. “I asked where we stand now.” The Chairman pointed toward the image of the weapon, still rotating slowly above the table. “How soon can we begin deployment? That weapon will at least put us on a more-even playing field with the Black Ships.”

  Jeff reached out and lifted a PAD angling it so he could read the small screen. “As of this morning we have ninety-eight weapons ready for immediate use.”

  John felt the muscles on his jaw go slack as it fell open. His mind struggled to comprehend what his friend had revealed. After a moment or two he managed to construct a coherent sentence.

  “Ninety-eight? But...”

  “John.” Replied Jeff as he lent forward perching his elbows on the smooth tabletop. “The antimatter in those weapons took the scientists at Zarminda over three years to produce. Three years to equip a half dozen warheads.”

  Even the normally inscrutable features of Jing were showing signs of - not exasperation - more annoyance. “I presume your latest bid for expanded funding has something to do with the...” Jing searched for the appropriate word. “Lack, of volume.”

  Jeff pointed a chubby finger at the chairman as he once more pushed back into his seat. “You’ve hit the nail on the head, sir. The facilities which produced the original antimatter which equipped those warheads, are woefully inadequate for large-scale production.

  The personnel there have done their best, hence, we have ninety-eight weapons ready to deploy. However, as you can imagine, handling such a volatile substance as antimatter is extremely dangerous. Damn, even the Saiph, in their scientific database, advised avoiding it or, at best, handling it well outside a populated area. And by populated area I mean the same planet.”

  “Tell me you have a solution, Jeff.” Interjected John.

  The scientist turned his head to face John with a fox like grin plastered on his face. “Well, of course I do.”

  “Doctor Moore.” Said Jing, choosing to ignore the scientist’s smug reply. “Would you care to share?”

  Jeff retrieved a PAD and tapped at its controls. The image of the sleek missile was replaced by one of a roughly circular, heavily scarred surface of an asteroid. “This, Gentlemen, is NYZ390642 or, as the Corps of Engineers have begun to call it, the Warren. The engineers have, for the past eleven months, been burrowing and excavating megatonnes of rock to make way for an entire fabrication facility which-” Jeff gave Jing an ingratiating smile. “If the good chairman grants us the additional funding, will become our center, not only for synthesizing antimatter but, for the fabrication of the missile bodies and incorporation of the warheads.”

  “What about storage?” Asked John.

  Jeff fiddled with the PAD again and alongside the image of The Warren appeared what, to John at any rate, looked like an atypical shipping container. “Even with a complete production line dedicated to these weapons, it will take a significant amount of time before we have the numbers to employ them en masse.

  For the moment, Admiral Glandinning intends to outfit these shipping containers with their own independent power supply, ensuring the stability of the warhead’s magnetic containment bottle - a neat little trick we, er, borrowed from the Benii -”

  There was that sly smile on Jeff’s face again, noted John.

  “Then store ten completed weapons per container, along with a stock of ready deployment spares.”

  “You and Glandinning are worried about the stability of the weapons, aren’t you?” Said John without removing his eyes from the floating shipping container. His mind already hard at work considering options for employing these super powerful weapons of mass destruction and, just as importantly, their safe transport and storage. He had that itch, the one on the back of his neck that told him these missiles were just as dangerous for his own people as they were for their enemy.

  Jeff shrugged in resignation. “In a nutshell. Yes.” The scientist admitted. “If the magnetic containment bottle fails, even for a microsecond, then you can kiss the ship carrying the weapon and everything within a thousand kilometers goodbye. A failure in a single warhead will cause a sympathetic explosion in nearby warheads, expanding the likely destructive effect to something like 5,000 kilometers.”

  The flickering light of understanding sparked in John’s brain. “Gavin has kept the containers as small as possible, not only because he’s worried about the possibility of a containment failure, but he knows that a shipping container of that size can be lifted by a ship as small as a Tanto. A Tanto, though, is not equipped with Gravity Drive, so, how is it going to deliver the weap
ons to the fleet?” John raised one eyebrow and by the look on Jeff’s face he knew the wily scientist already had an answer.

  “The shipyards are already working on an adapted Tanto design, a variant called the Fire Ant, which will incorporate a Gravity Drive and expanded crew quarters. It will be tight.” Explained Jeff. “However, they have promised to deliver a vessel no more than an extra third of the size of existing Tanto models.”

  John did some swift calculations in his head before addressing Jing. “Hmm, still too big for anything smaller than a battleship or a carrier like Itus to handle but I’m sure we can work out the details.”

  Jing gave John an affirmative nod before his eyes zeroed in on Jeff from behind his steepled fingers as he picked up on something Jeff had eluded to earlier. “Expand on significant amount of time, if you would be so kind, Doctor?”

  Jeff shifted uncomfortably in his seat under Jing’s gaze and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he cleared his throat before answering. “We anticipate six months to a year before we can begin mass production... more likely the year.”

  Jing sat back in his chair. Eyes hardening as the clinical, detached mind behind them weighed up his options. The room descended into an uneasy quiet as Jeff and John anxiously awaited the chairman’s next words. After a long few minutes Jing’s finger snapped out, zeroing in on Jeff’s chest.

  “Doctor Moore, you will get your funding.”

  The satisfied smile forming on Jeff’s lips was dashed by Jing’s next words. “However, I expect the weapons to be in full production within six months and the first delivery to the fleet within seven.” Ignoring the burgeoning protests which were about to issue from the scientist’s lips Jing turned to John.

  “John, get with your people. I want Itus ready to begin combat operations the same day it receives its first antimatter missile.”

  John curtly nodded his understanding, while Jeff desperately wanted to protest Jing’s decision, but he knew fine well that once the chairman had made a decision you might as well argue with a stone wall.

  Jing stood to leave bringing the other two men to their feet also. “Oh, and John.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Keep Montu and Bastet up to speed. Their carrier groups will follow your lead and you never know...” Jing lips nearly, but not quite, formed into a thin smile. “They might have some useful input.”

  Even though he had been working with the military for over a decade now, Jeff never quite got used to people being referred to by the name of their ships. On this occasion Jing alluded to the commanding admirals of the TDF’s latest operation Carrier Strike Groups, modeled on John’s Itus group which, in Jing’s eyes and therefore the TDF’s, had proved the concept of the carrier strike group by virtue of being the only force to have managed a victory, no matter how small, over the Black Ships.

  Unlike other senior officers Jeff knew, John did not take Jing’s thinly veiled order to involve his peers in operational planning of the deployment of the antimatter equipped missiles as a slight on his own abilities. In fact, John took from it the very opposite. Both Montu and Bastet were extremely capable commanders and having them available to war game against would only help hone John, and the ships under his command’s skills. Following the beating Itus had taken at Guzman, Jeff knew they had to be at the top of their game the next time they joined the Black Ships in battle.

  As the door slid closed with a gentle whoosh behind Jing, John allowed the mask of cool, military stoicism to slip. Jeff was surprised at the sudden, haunted look that his friends’ eyes took on.

  “Are you okay, John?”

  Like the snapping of an elastic band John’s eyes once more filled with the fiery determination that Jeff had always recognized in them as the heart and mind of a driven man, sure that he was on the side of righteous. White teeth flashed a wide, friendly smile and the crack that had allowed Jeff the briefest of glimpses into his friend’s tortured soul disappeared.

  “Sure.” Replied John. “Now, why don’t you run the specs of this new toy of yours by me and we’ll see about kicking some Saiph butt with it.”

  The jovial laugh that followed did nothing to assuage Jeff’s worries. Unfortunately, now was not the time to ponder on his friends’ demons for there was a war to be won and John, like everyone else, had to play his part.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE SUPREME LEADER

  DELIBERATES

  2287 LIGHT-YEARS FROM EARTH

  The Supreme Leader’s hand struck the conference table and resounded through the room, the sound halted the hubbub of conversations from the gathered Saiph elite.

  In deference, those around the table turned to face their leader whose hand rested on the metallic tabletop while he stared through the clear wall out onto the magnificent vista beyond.

  The Supreme Leader’s light brown eyes drank in the fruit of generations of work; golden crops tended by automated machinery and fields of thin stalks swayed back and forth in the gentle breeze; a random house, belonging to a worker, on the shore of a blue-green sea that stretched from horizon to horizon and red-hued light shimmered across the tops of the breaking waves.

  The Supreme Leader’s gaze travelled upwards to the life-giving star itself. So close he felt he could simply reach out and cup it in his hand.

  The Supreme Leader spoke while continuing to gaze upon his creation. “Star Leader Foral, have you ascertained the reason for our cruiser’s failure to complete their mission?”

  “I have, Supreme Leader.” Began Foral without hesitation. The commander of the Saiph fleet had been friends and a comrade-in-arms with the Saiph who rose to Supreme Leader for his entire career. If there was one thing he had learned over that time, it was that the Supreme Leader did not like sugar coated briefings.

  “From the squadron’s last received message; they arrived in the system, the humans call Guzman, without incident and detected only a pair of inferior human cruisers. The presence of these vessels is unsurprising as we know the humans have randomly dispatched small numbers of warships to their newly established colonies, while, we presume, holding their major fleet units close to their more heavily industrialized planets.” Foral paused and turned to regard those sitting at the table. “This is an expected reaction following our successful strike on the Garundan space station, a move designed to allow us to dictate the terms of the fight while the humans and their Commonwealth allies are forced into a reactionary campaign.”

  “It appears the humans have other ideas, Foral.” Commented Lorai. Foral pursed his lips while a number of heads around the table bobbed in agreement with the chief scientist’s words.

  Foral chose to ignore Lorai and continued. “We’ve concluded the human vessels detected our ship’s arrival and were able to call reinforcements to ambush our cruisers. The data from our reconnaissance ship, which I dispatched to the edge of the system when our cruiser squadron failed to return, supports this assumption.

  The data reveals a heavy fleet presence around the human colony and increased background radiation in the vicinity of the colony’s major moon, indicative of the concentrated use of nuclear warheads.

  Radar displays a fresh debris field that we’ve determined is a major recovery operation in the region of one of the system’s gas giants. There is also a number of gravity drive nulling buoys deployed at various points in the system which makes escape from a superior force difficult, if not impossible, for our cruisers.”

  “And what is the aim of the recovery operation, you say, is happening around the gas giant?” Asked Lorai.

  Foral reached out and tapped a control recessed into the conference table. Along one wall an image sprung into being. The streaked atmosphere of a gas giant filled the background. Its upper atmosphere forever obscured by clouds whose peaceful beauty belied the fact that they were moving at near supersonic speeds that could rip any vessel, deigning to descend into them, into pieces.

  In the foreground, clustered around a massive box-shaped vessel darte
d smaller, nimbler craft. “Our reconnaissance ship recorded this image at what you can imagine was an extended range.” A red circle superimposed itself around the larger vessel. “This, we believe, is a recovery and salvage vessel while these-” Yellow circles flashed onto the image around the small craft, “Are a variety of tugs and other various support ships.” Foral touched another control and the image jumped forward in a series of time-lapsed images. The small craft repeatedly dipped in and out of the gas giant’s upper atmosphere for short periods of time.

  “What are they doing?” Queried Lorai.

  Foral held one finger up and gestured to the scientist to have patience. A moment later the image showed first one, then a second, then another and another of the smaller vessels coming together in an ever-growing cluster, like piranhas homing on their prey, desperate to get their share before their prey was gone.

  And, before their eyes, emerging from the murky clouds came a large, sleek section of a ship.

  “That, my friends, is the bow section of one of our cruisers.” Intoned Foral as a number of the gathered Saiph hierarchy let out murmurs and the odd suppressed gasp.

  The Star Leader waited for the whispered conversations to subside before he spoke once more. “The cruisers we sent against the humans at Guzman were equipped with energy shielding, our latest armor, defensive and offensive weaponry.” Foral aimed a soft furred finger at the rising shell of a once proud cruiser. “If the humans are as shrewd as we’ve assessed them to be, then in short order, they will reverse engineer our technology and significantly reduce our current warship’s effectiveness against theirs.”

  A thought occurred to Lorai. “You make no mention of antimatter warheads, Foral.”

  The Star Leader gave a slow nod and chose his words carefully. “The deployment, to Guzman, of that weapons’ system is deemed... unnecessary to meet our mission parameters”