by Ken Lozito
Connor marched forward with determination. This battle was far from over.
Chapter Twenty-Six
The holoscreen in front of him blurred, and Noah rubbed his eyes.
Stay focused and get it done.
Noah kept Connor’s last words at the forefront of his mind when he noticed the slightest bit of tiredness threatening to distract him. He felt like his face had formed a permanent scowl from concentrating so hard. He glanced over at Kara. They sat together on the bridge of the Chmiel and had taken over the auxiliary workstation.
“Thirtieth time’s the charm?” Noah asked and sighed.
“It only has to work once,” Kara reminded him.
“Who knew reprogramming the targeting computer on the defense platforms would be so darn difficult,” Noah said.
If there was a finickier computer system, Noah hadn’t encountered it. He guessed this was the price he had to pay for precision, trying only to hit enemy targets instead of every ship in the vicinity. When they’d first tried to apply the update to the targeting systems of the defense platforms, they failed so spectacularly that the system became unresponsive. The frozen targeting systems had nearly given him a panic attack until the system fail-safes automatically rolled back the update. The update had been intended to enable the targeting computer to alternate between scanning for active ship signatures and ship wakes from fusion-powered engines. Noah had become much more cautious since then because he didn’t want to single-handedly leave the colony defenseless. If he didn’t get the defense platforms fixed, they would be nothing but useless piles of junk that would let the Vemus just waltz right into the inner system of planets unchallenged.
Noah glared at the screen. The uncooperative nature of the defense platform systems still made them piles of junk, in his opinion, but he was trying to squeeze every ounce of usefulness out of them he could while he still had the chance. The navigation system of the missile-defense platforms was much more reliable. Since his initial update to the targeting systems had failed, he’d had to move all the defense platforms farther into the system. This gave him time to come up with a fix and hopefully keep the platforms they’d already passed in range for when the update eventually worked. If it didn’t, they were in serious trouble.
There were downsides to moving the missile-defense platforms, the primary one being that the maneuvering engines of each platform were limited, and they had to be sure there was enough fuel in reserve to allow them to stop. Even with those considerations, the platforms weren’t meant for extensive space travel, so they moved frustratingly slowly.
Another downside was the fact that Noah wasn’t authorized to move the defense platforms. He authenticated to the defense platforms’ flight systems by using Connor’s identification. He didn’t have time to explain the situation to the people at COMCENT, who were still unable to reach the Vigilant, and then wait for their reply. Noah pressed his lips together. He didn’t think Connor would mind, and he hoped the CDF general wasn’t incorporating the missile-defense platforms into whatever he was doing. Noah’s stomach twisted in knots and he glanced at the comms workstation. They’d sent several messages to New Earth, apprising COMCENT of the situation, but hadn’t heard back from them yet. He had to tell them something; otherwise, COMCENT could override his orders to move the defense platforms.
“What are you waiting for?” Kara asked.
“I’m just trying to think if there’s anything we haven’t thought about yet. The targeting system really doesn’t like the updates to PRADIS. Its entire design is predicated on the fact that it can precisely identify a target before it engages. We’re essentially telling the computer, ‘Nah, that’s okay, don’t worry about it. A vague impression of engine thrust is as good as a precise location. Fire your weapons,’” Noah said.
They’d fallen into hundreds of pitfalls due to the security protocols designed into the targeting system that was doing its utmost to prevent what they’d been trying to do. If something went wrong, the useless piles of junk could determine that the Chmiel was the enemy and needed to be destroyed.
“We went over it with a fine-toothed comb. Everything is going to be fine,” Kara said.
Noah frowned. “A fine-toothed what?”
Kara smiled. “It’s an old saying.”
Noah snorted. Kara’s family had originally lived in what had been known as the mid-western United States before the country was dissolved when the North American Union was formed. Kara had explained that the area was still known as the Midwest, and Noah had come to learn that there was no shortage of sayings from that part of the world.
“You betcha,” Noah said in an attempt to allay his angst by using the only Midwest saying he could remember. He reached his hand out to launch the updated version thirty-point-one and stopped. “If this works, will you promise to make those fried ravioli things you talked about?”
Kara speared her gaze at him. “Stop stalling and send it out already,” she said.
Noah pressed the digitized button and the update started to upload to the defense platforms. He watched the screen intently, willing it to finally work.
Kara leaned over and placed her hand on his arm, giving him a slight squeeze.
“Captain Benson, I have a comlink from General Mallory,” the comms officer said.
Captain Benson glanced over at Noah. “Put him through.”
Noah watched as Captain Benson spoke quietly on the comlink.
“No, General Gates is not on this ship . . . Oh, he’s right here. I’ll connect you. One moment please, General,” Captain Benson said and jutted his chin in Noah’s direction.
Noah put on his headset and waited for the comlink to transfer over to him. “Hello, General.”
“Cut the ‘Hello, General’ crap, Barker, and tell me what the hell is going on out there,” General Franklin Mallory said, his voice sounding strained.
“The short version is that we’ve been attacked. Titan Space Station has been destroyed,” Noah said.
“We know about Titan,” General Mallory said in a calmer voice. “We received a data burst from them, but none of our replies made it back to them. Then we got the self-destruction communication from the station. What I need to know from you is why you’re redeploying the missile-defense platforms . . . and where is Connor?”
Noah glanced at his holoscreen and the update he’d coded was still being pushed to the missile-defense platforms. “Sir, this is going to require a bit of explaining, so please bear with me for a few minutes.”
Noah told the CDF general everything he knew about the attack on Titan Space Station and that Jade protocol had been initiated by Connor. Noah went on to tell him about the escape pods they’d left behind, and his info dump to General Mallory became a sort of confession for him, as if he was finally able to unload the burden he’d been carrying. The last thing he mentioned was Connor’s orders for him to update the targeting protocols of the defense platforms.
“What’s the status of the update?” General Mallory asked.
“We just started pushing it out, so we’re waiting on final confirmation that the defense platform systems have taken it,” Noah replied.
“Acknowledged. Did Connor specify whether the updates should be applied to the orbital defenses?” General Mallory said.
“No, sir, he didn’t. Are they online?”
“As soon as we got the first alert from Titan,” General Mallory answered.
Noah blew out a breath. They’d been so isolated that it felt good to hear from someone else. “Sir, about the people we left behind . . .”
“We won’t abandon them. Do you know the status of the Vemus fleet?” General Mallory asked.
“The Chmiel is only a cargo vessel, so it doesn’t have PRADIS. We were relying on the missile-defense platform detections for that information,” Noah said.
“Understood,” General Mallory said and then covered his microphone to speak with someone else.
“We know Connor first e
ngaged the Vemus fleet and then Titan Space Station took out a lot of the ships, but we’re not sure how many are left,” Noah continued.
Kara grabbed his arm. “Look,” she said, gesturing to the holoscreen.
Noah looked at the status of the holoscreen and felt the edges of his lips pulling upward. The thirtieth time was the charm!
“Sir, the defense platforms are reporting in. The update worked. The targeting systems are coming back online and we should have telemetry in a few minutes,” Noah said.
Kara clutched his arm and he leaned in toward her.
“Copy that. Good work,” General Mallory said.
“I had a lot of help,” Noah said, his eyes beaming.
The missile-defense platforms began to check in with their targeting updates and the plot on his screen filled with enemy ship signatures. The smile drained from his face and he heard several members of the bridge crew gasp. Vemus ships were gaining on them, nipping at their heels.
“Noah,” General Mallory said in a knowing voice.
“Sir, the Vemus are almost here. I need to authorize the defense platforms to engage.”
“Not yet,” General Mallory said sternly.
The PRADIS systems on the missile-defense platforms were still discovering Vemus ships.
“Sir, they’re out there. We have to open fire,” Noah said.
“Listen to me,” General Mallory replied. “We have to wait, draw them farther inside the funnel.”
Noah frowned, wondering why the CDF general would be reasoning with him, and then his eyes widened in understanding. With Connor’s credentials, he could order the defense platforms to engage any time he wanted. They were closer to the defense platform on the Chmiel than COMCENT was back on New Earth, which also meant an account lockout wouldn’t work. Noah glanced at the screen. There were over three hundred Vemus ships heading toward them.
Noah placed his hand on the edge of the workstation. “What do you need me to do?”
“The defense platforms aren’t enough to take out that many ships. We need to wait until they’re within range of our orbital defenses,” General Mallory said, clearly relieved that Noah wasn’t going to take matters into his own hands.
“Sir, if the enemy determines the nature of the defense platforms, there’s a risk of them being taken out before they can deliver their payload,” Noah said.
“That’s right, there is. And that’s also why I need you to have Captain Benson slow his ship down,” General Mallory said.
“Slow the ship down? Why?” Noah asked.
Captain Benson walked over to him and waited.
“Latency,” General Mallory replied.
Once again, Noah’s eyes widened in understanding. They were closer to the defense platforms and could start firing earlier than if those orders came from COMCENT.
“In this, every second counts,” General Mallory said.
“I understand, sir,” Noah replied and explained to Captain Benson why he needed to slow the ship down. The added bonus was that they would be bait to draw the Vemus where they wanted them to go.
Noah looked at the plot on the holoscreen and then shot to his feet. He turned toward the main holoscreen, which was much larger than the one at the workstation, and peered at the ships lining the edges.
“Sir, the Vigilant has just appeared on the plot,” Noah said, his voice rising in excitement.
They were still alive, at least for the time being.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Once cleared through decontamination, Connor headed for the Vigilant’s primary bridge. Sean followed along, with several CDF soldiers as an escort. They entered the bridge and Connor caught himself looking for Reisman in the Vigilant’s command chair. It was a habit that had formed during the weeks they’d been aboard the ship.
Wil is gone, Connor reminded himself.
“General,” Major Hayes acknowledged.
Connor approached the command area. “Sitrep.”
“The Vemus forces are regrouping and the former battleship carrier Indianapolis has moved away from our ship,” Major Hayes said.
Connor looked at the main holoscreen and noticed their current position on the plot, then glanced back at Major Hayes. “What happened? We were at the head of the vanguard when we went aboard the Indianapolis.”
“That’s correct. The remaining Vemus fleet caught up to us and now we’re right in the middle of what’s left,” Major Hayes said.
Connor turned toward the main holoscreen. “Tactical, any response from the Vemus ships?”
“Negative, General,” Lieutenant LaCroix said.
“It’s almost as if . . .” Connor’s voice trailed off and he glanced at Sean.
“We’re not enough of a threat for them to deal with,” Sean said.
“We were before. What’s changed?” Major Hayes asked.
“They’ve been slow to respond throughout this whole engagement. They’re reliant on superior numbers to achieve their objective,” Connor said.
The Vemus fleet had focused on Titan Space Station with an almost singular purpose and now they were heading directly toward New Earth. He looked for the Indianapolis. Why had they moved away from them? Did the Vemus know they’d planted bombs on board?
“Why haven’t the defense platforms engaged them?” Connor asked.
Those platforms should have delivered their missile payloads to the enemy by now. Connor looked at the system counts for enemy ships and there were still hundreds left.
Too many, Connor thought.
“Sir, the defense platforms have been moved. We only just discovered this a few minutes before you arrived,” Major Hayes said.
Connor pressed his lips together. Noah must have moved the defense platforms, which meant something had gone wrong with the update for the targeting computers. They couldn’t access the platforms because it might draw the Vemus fleet’s attention. He had to assume Noah was working on the problem and was nearing a solution. Noah hadn’t disappointed him yet, and he knew the stakes. Connor studied the plot and the enemy ship positions. He needed to get them bunched together so that when the defense platforms did engage, they could do maximum damage.
“The Chmiel must still be in front of the vanguard. Tactical, highlight the orbital defense range around New Earth,” Connor said.
A few moments later New Earth was highlighted in yellow and the orbital defense range was shown in a paler shade of orange.
“They’re drawing them in before they open fire on them,” Sean said.
Connor nodded. “Noah wouldn’t know to do that on his own. He’s not a strategist. He must be in contact with COMCENT. Are we able to contact them?”
“Negative, General. We still have limited communications capabilities while we’re so close to the Vemus fleet,” Sergeant Boers said.
Connor looked over at the comms officer, considering. Moving away from the Vemus fleet would be a waste of time and opportunity. “How long would it take you to input a new signal protocol for the comms array?”
“Shouldn’t take that long. Send over what you have, sir,” Sergeant Boers said.
Connor used his implants to send over the Vemus signal Reisman had found. He’d taken a quick look at the analysis and couldn’t make sense of it. There were limits to what could be done within an internal heads-up display.
Major Hayes glanced at him questioningly.
“While Colonel Reisman was in the Vemus ship systems, he found this protocol that he thought was linked to all their ships,” Connor said.
“I was very sorry to hear about Wil. He was a good man,” Major Hayes said.
Connor clenched his teeth for a moment and kept his gaze on the main holoscreen. He looked back at Hayes and nodded.
“General,” Sergeant Boers said, looking worried. “I’m not sure what I can do with that signal. It’s really complex.”
“Excuse me, sir,” Sean said. “Sela, can you put what you have on the main holoscreen?”
Sergeant
Boers looked at Connor.
“Go ahead,” Connor said.
An image of the signal spectrum appeared on the main holoscreen. Multicolored peaks and valleys represented the many layers of the signal. Connor rubbed the bottom of his chin.
“I’ve seen something like this before,” Sean said.
“What do you think it is?” Connor asked.
Sean stepped closer to the large holoscreen. He took control of the image and swiped it to the side. Then he brought up another communications signal. The wave pattern was similar to the Vemus signal but much less complex.
“This is a signal we use for encrypted CDF communications, which is based on the NA Alliance military protocols,” Sean said and then brought up another image and juxtaposed it with the CDF signal. The pitches in the second signal hardly peaked at all but were a constant stream.
“What’s that other one?” Major Hayes asked.
“It’s the command and control signal for drones,” Sean said.
Connor’s eyes widened, and Sean brought up the Vemus protocol. They weren’t identical, but they were a close enough match to show they were at least similar.
“This is why they’re seemingly slow to respond. What if most of the fleet is being controlled by one ship?” Connor said. “Can you upload the protocol to the comms array as is and see what we get?”
“Yes, sir,” Sergeant Boers said.
No sooner had the comms officer uploaded the protocols than a high-pitched feedback loop sounded from all the comms speakers on the bridge. Connor brought his hands to his ears and winced at the sound.
