“How do you believe the Captain of the Xerxes will respond to the Warrant?”
“He would resist…”
“Do you still believe I’m out of line initiating this assault?”
She was silent while she thought hard about her answer. Finally, she shook her head. “No, sir.”
“Admiral Jalabir has also been apprised of possible connections between some of the Corporations and Ghantri forces. He has questions that we’re hoping to ask the good Captain once he’s within our custody.”
“Connections?” she asked in confusion, “I was not aware of any connections…”
“Nor would you,” I continued, “You were posted here on Admiral Stirges’ orders. Stirges had not been informed, therefore, nor were you.”
She sat back down, a look of annoyance on her face. I gestured to another officer, one of the bridge staff who had held their hand up earlier.
“Sir, what are the weapon systems available to the Xerxes? Will the Restitution be able to defend against them?”
“Good question. We know they have a Class 3 railgun, capable of some devastating firepower. That will be one of the primary objectives of the assault team. We know they can field short range fighters, drones and boarding shuttles. Point defences are light, they tend not to get too close to their prey. That’s what minions are for.”
Alexander held up his hand and I nodded to him. “How sure are we that the Xerxes won’t have ‘minions’ as you put it? Won’t they have defence ships guarding it?”
“I expect they will, but Maxine’s stealth drive is very capable. I’ve seen Garner’s stealth module in action, so have you on Ambrose.”
He nodded solemnly, a shadow passing over his features. The desperation of Ambrose Station was still fresh in many of our nightmares.
I continued, “We only need to disable the Xerxes, the Restitution can handle any mercenary ships. With any luck, she’ll order the mercs to stand down when they realise they’re beaten, but I don’t count on it. I’m betting that Captain is an arrogant son of a bitch. He won’t go down without a fight.”
One of the drone pilots had a question. “How will the assault team be recovered?”
“If all goes well, we can recover them after the Xerxes surrenders. If it comes to a battle, they will exfiltrate via escape pods launched from the Xerxes. Closest registered recovery point is one of the helium-3 platforms orbiting Barris Doon. We can pick our troops up there after the battle, or they can charter a Transport back to Collumus if we have to flee. Once everything goes to poo.”
A light titter of laughter echoed around the Pit. Chief Gannerson hoisted his large arm above his head.
“Chief?”
“Passing through so many gravity wells on our way to Eovan will put a lot of stresses on the Linus Drives, and the hull. How many gees are we planning on facing?”
“We’ll discuss that offline during detailed planning, but you can be sure I’ll include you in that discussion. I’ll also be meeting with department heads prior to getting under way to discuss our shakedown cruise objectives…”
“Sir?” said a voice near the back of the room. I gestured for them to stand and speak. A scarred Orlii rose, his jumpsuit uniform identifying him as a supply officer. “Many of us have been questioned rather thoroughly regarding our non-existent Corporate ties. Many of us were refugees from Gossamer, surely you don’t think we’d be linked to any of this?”
I considered my words carefully. “These are dangerous waters. We are custodians of technology that has the potential to alter the way the galaxy works. If we’re not ultra-careful in how we do business, we may unwittingly tip the balance of power between the Protectorate and the Galactic Corporations. The only thing keeping the Corporations in check is the hold the Protectorate has on the Jump Gates. If they no longer have intergalactic travel as a bargaining chip, the Treaties will become meaningless. The Corporations will have unchecked power to do what they want in the galaxy.
“For any slight given to you, I apologise. It was necessary. Each and every one of you has been given the green light by our investigation. That’s why you’re here tonight.”
My answer seemed to have appeased him, as he nodded curtly. “You think there are Koveli-Xue agents on board?” he said.
“We have to assume there is. They want the Jump Drives, and I’m personally aware of the lengths they’d go to acquire it.”
Another hand was raised, which I acknowledged. “Sir, will you be leading the assault on the Blade of Xerxes?”
I took a breath and looked at Kekkin. We’d argued about this previously. I knew he preferred I take a back seat to the action, but in the end, he agreed that it was my decision to make. I wasn’t comfortable letting other people take all the risks while I sat safely in my command chair, letting others die in my stead. It was a tough decision – I had to start thinking like a commander and not a soldier. In the end, he asked me what Max would do in my position. It was a cheap shot, but it worked. Maxine would let people do their job, and make sure she did her own to the best of her ability. If that meant sending Crege and me to deal with boarders while she piloted the ship, that’s what she would do.
“Not this time. I’ll remain with the Restitution and direct the ensuing space battle. All squad leaders have had battlenet implants and are connected through to the ship’s command suite on the bridge. As soon as we know the assault’s objectives have been achieved, we’ll begin our approach on the Xerxes.”
I waited for a few moments and when no more questions were asked, I waived for Rego to shut down the holo-projector.
“This is the first time we’ve all gone into action in many months, for some of you the first time ever. Make no mistake – this will be difficult, there are plenty of risks. This is what it means to be a Protectorate asset – we have to be willing to step in when someone gets out of line. We need to ensure the region maintains stability, and we can’t have that if the Corporations decide to make a power play in a technological arms race, not while the threat of the Ghantri remains. We deal with this, we show the Admiralty what we’re capable of, then we get the green light to start our real mission.
“Get some rest, people. We launch early morning, ship time. Dismissed.”
34.
The atmosphere was tense on the bridge. The usual comms chatter was non-existent, all ears were eagerly waiting for the unknown to occur. Even I was nervous. None of us had ever done this before and we all knew there was a decent chance it would all end in sudden annihilation. But it had to be done. I gave a nod to Professor Gaston to begin.
“Spooling helium-3 reactors now,” he reported, “All systems nominal. Power levels stable…threshold reached. Inform the Chief he may divert power to the Jump Drive.”
I had Gannerson on the command channel. “Divert power, Chief. Good luck. Abort immediately if anything happens down there that you think is unsafe.”
“Aye, aye. Does it matter that I think this whole charade is unsafe?”
I smiled, “Your concern is noted.”
The Professor began manipulating the console we had configured to control the Jump Drives. He began barking orders at the sensor operators.
“Make sure those detectors are calibrated to no more than forty-two Planck lengths. Precisely forty-two, do you understand? Shift that polarity sensor out another pico-metre away from the hull, you fool! You’re picking up the ship’s inertial field.”
Another few tense minutes passed before Gaston looked up at me. “Commander, everything looks good. We can start the process anytime.”
I looked over at Maxine, sitting in a secondary command chair to my right.
“It’s your show, Donny. I’m just here to watch.”
I smiled and gave her the thumbs up. “Go ahead, Professor.”
He turned back to his station. “Stability is good…inertial field is solid…activating Jump Drive…now. Monitoring quantum conditions…chirality is shifting! Sensors! Feed me positional data on n
umber three channel!”
“No change recorded, Professor!” reported the sensor operator.
“Keep the data coming! Increasing sub-space injector rate…entanglement observed! Resonance detected! Sensors! Monitor the chirality of the inertial field!”
“Field is synchronised, Professor!”
“Now!” shouted Gaston excitedly.
“Helm,” I called, “Five percent thrust!”
“Five percent, sir!” called the helm operator.
The gentle thrumming of the ship’s propulsion vibrated through the structure of the hull. No one spoke, no one breathed, for several long moments.
“Release inertial field!” shouted the Professor.
We weren’t sure exactly what to expect, whether shifting like this was the same as going through a Jump Gate or something else entirely, so it caught us all completely off-guard. It was like suddenly being weightless, upside down and full of gas at the same time. At least, that was what it was like for me. Several people cried out in alarm, I gripped the armrest of the chair and did my best not to belch. A guard on the bridge behind me slumped against a bulkhead as he fell.
“Helm, full stop! Sensors! Report!” I managed to call out.
It was several seconds before I got a response. “It’s…it’s…I’m not sure what to make of it, sir!”
Gaston made an impatient noise and climbed out of his seat. He spent several seconds scanning the sensor display before calling up to me. “It’s as I predicted. There’s too much information for the sensors to gain a meaningful picture.”
“We’re blind?”
“The opposite. We’re overloaded with information.”
“What about the gravity detectors?” I said.
“Yes, yes. I’m not a fool. Calibrating displays. This will take some time to decipher. I have no idea how the grubs did this without advanced AI.”
“But it worked? We’re in Phase Space?”
“As best I can tell, yes.”
“As best as you can tell?” I said, giving him a reproachful look. He chose to ignore it.
“We’re no longer in a normal, three-dimensional brane. We have very little sensor readings that are decipherable. Even gravity is being overloaded with data.”
“What are we seeing?”
“Well, as I predicted, we’re not just picking up the gravity of an object, we’re also picking up the gravity that the object had and will have through its entire existence. Its entire world line. The readings are just too massive for our sensors to make out anything discernible…they’re too…sensitive…”
His words trailed off into an inaudible muttering and he dashed back to his own console. With enthusiastic gestures, he reconfigured his console.
“Professor?”
“One moment.”
The minutes trickled by. Eventually, he gave a triumphant cry.
“Eureka!”
“Professor? Care to share with us your discovery?”
“I’ve done it! I’ve worked out how the grubs saw in Phase Space. So simple! They’re not known for their ingenuity, so they wouldn’t have had finely tuned sensors or equipment. I simply dialled back the sensitivity of the sensors and all gravity detectors were able to display their waveforms unclipped!”
“But we already had them turned down…” I said.
“No, no, no…I had to reprogram them. Well…I had to feed their signal through a dummy load first, then reroute it through the ship’s nexus several times, then I had to hack the ship’s operating AI algorithms…”
“You didn’t just void the warranty on our brand new systems, did you?” I asked.
“What? But…you’re about to take it into combat!”
I chuckled at the look he gave me. “Professor. Can we see or not?”
He straightened his shirt and stood straight. “Yes.”
“Can we see the blackhole at Vanhoeven System?”
“Yes. Which means we can extrapolate our position relative to the singularity and Barris Doon.”
“Our position in…probability?”
“Correct. Our physical location is meaningless, but with the data the sensors are now collecting Tac should be able to map out a three-dimensional representation.”
“He’s all yours, Professor. Do you hear that, Tac? You’re back to being a navigation AI.”
The irony is not lost on me, Commander.
We had connected Tac to the sensor nexus, a similar location to where we had found him on the Veridian March, all that time ago. Since his adventures on the Dreaming of Atmosphere, and then with Naga Team, he had informed us that his growth had accelerated. He assured us that his past experiences on a deep space research vessel provided him with the foundations needed to generate a depiction of multi-dimensional space. Gaston had insisted we use Tac for this part of the operation, for once Tac had a workable method for depicting Phase Space using physical characteristics he could teach a lesser AI that we could install in his place. It took some convincing on Tac’s part. He had hated his previous role on the Veridian March. It was only the promise of extended connections to the Restitution’s sensor nexus that had convinced him. I knew what he relished, for I too had tasted of the vast perceptions that being a ship provided. It was exhilarating, to say the least, intoxicating even.
“How long before you’ll have a working display?”
If you’ll access the command table, switch over to the channel marked ‘Misc.’, he texted.
I walked over to the command suite – our replacement for the ageing DonCrest Model 89 navigation pane that the Ghantri had placed here. Rego sat at the head of the table, a slightly larger, glossy black affair with multiple configurations – similar to the consoles on the Dreaming. I could program the suite to display holographic imagery relayed from troops in the field, sensor data of local space, or long range navigational displays for tactical plotting. Rego, our resident gadget enthusiast, had introduced me to it and then begged me to put him in charge of it. I was only happy to oblige.
“How’s the new leg?” I said as I smiled at him.
“Good as new. Masters would be envious of it,” he said, referencing a late member of Naga Team who was fond of cybernetics.
“You went with the chrome version or synth skin?”
“Chrome, of course! Want to see it?” he said, starting to roll the leg up on his jumpsuit.
I held up a hand and chuckled, “Not right now. We got work to do.”
He nodded and went to work, flicking through a menu on his controls. In moments the table lit up with a chaotic array of convoluted shapes and lines. They swirled about and twisted into impossible patterns that hurt the eyes.
“What am I looking at, Tac?”
The image should coalesce eventually into something recognisable in time as I fine tune the imagery. You’ll need someone to monitor the feed to let me know when I’ve reached the required settings.
“Like tuning in a transmission,” said Rego, “or calibrating a drone feed.”
A simplistic, yet apt analogy, Corporal.
“How long will this take?” I asked.
Insufficient data to provide a meaningful answer.
I sighed, turning back to the operations deck below. “How are our shields holding? Any residual heat leaking through?”
“Negative, Commander,” responded one of the crew, “Shields holding.”
“Let me know the second they start to fail.”
“Aye, aye, sir!”
The minutes ticked by, with seemingly no progress on obtaining a readout we could navigate with. Every time I glanced at the command suite, the image had changed but was still unrecognisable as anything we could use. After nearly an hour, I could see Rego getting fatigued by the constant swirling patterns. I noticed that Maxine kept glancing over as often as I did.
“Max, you’ve always like the patterns when we shift. Want to give Rego a spell?”
“Sure,” she said, walking over to the command suite, “Move over
kiddo and give your eyes a rest.”
They swapped places, Max sitting down at the table while Rego took Max’s chair. He was rubbing his eyes as if trying to get sleep out of them.
“You okay?” I asked.
“Yeah, just staring at that pattern was giving me motion sickness, I think.”
“Could you make anything out?”
“I’m not sure. Just when a shape looked familiar it would twist and warp out of focus. I tried following some of the lines, but…none of them seem to have a beginning or end.”
Twenty minutes later, Max called out. “Stop! There!”
Halting algorithm, said Tac.
I stood up and approached the table. Max was leaning forward, staring intently at a mess of tangled lines and forms. It looked no different than before. I said as much to Max.
“That line there? It stretches all the way back to that point on the other side. I’ve been watching it for five minutes, now. All the other lines pass nearby it at some point. It’s central to this area, I’m sure.”
Captain Cooper is correct, said Tac, there is a convergence of most other lines in the area at one point or another. Standby.
The line turned a bright green, contrasting it against the swirling purples and blues of Phase Space.
Professor Gaston joined us as we stared. “It’s got to be the Vanhoeven blackhole. Has to be.”
“Okay, so how do we identify other stellar objects?” I asked.
“Easy, what’s the nearest star to Vanhoeven?”
“Max?” I asked.
Her eyes were focused off into nothing as she retrieved information on her overlay. “Nearest is VE 98563, but there’s another star almost as close designated VE 98543.”
“Even better,” said Gaston, “What happens to stars near black holes? What happens to everything, eventually, near black holes?”
“They get pulled in,” I said.
“Right, so if we have two other stars roughly the same distance, they should both get pulled in at the same time. Say, within a few million years of each other.”
“That’s hardly the same time.”
“It is when we’re talking about stellar events.”
Frontier's End: A Seth Donovan Novel Page 20
