New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  Agent Uba

  “A full-blown agent,” Celesta mused softly to herself. “CENTCOM must be taking whatever the hell is in Xi’an very seriously.” The fact there was an agent aboard the Prowler made her mind flit briefly to Pike before she was again wholly focused on the business at hand.

  “Nav, I’m sending you a set of rendezvous coordinates you will use to get a course plot to the helm.” She raised her voice, “Helm, all ahead one-half when you get it.”

  “Ahead one-half, aye.”

  The main engines rumbled to life as the Icarus switched from her unguided drift to powered flight, the prow angling down the well as they chased the smaller CIS Prowler. Celesta could shave off quite a bit of time by ordering a more aggressive approach down the well, but the other ships were likely days behind her so it would be a pointless expenditure of propellant. She also tossed around the idea of having her chief engineer, Commander Graham, reintegrate the RDS pod so she would have use of the gravity manipulating drive, but discarded the notion quickly. There was something in the Xi’an System that had CENTCOM scared enough to order the Icarus all the way from the unnamed planet they’d been orbiting despite the fact there were a dozen closer ships, two of them identical Starwolf-class destroyers.

  Whatever was there had to be something so dangerous or mysterious that Admiral Marcum wanted his most decorated, battle-hardened captain to be the first to investigate. She took some small comfort in the fact that Marcum had actually used the word investigate multiple times during their conversations as opposed to intercept, disable, or destroy. Maybe this was simply an overreaction from a command structure that was now trying to find its stride in a time of relative peace.

  “Commander Barrett, you have the bridge.” Celesta stood up as her XO walked through the hatchway for duty. “I’ll be in Engineering. Ensign Accari will brief you on the latest developments.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Barrett said to her back.

  ****

  Celesta rode the lift down from the command deck, located at about the midpoint of the comparatively squat superstructure fitted on the Starwolf-class, all the way down to Deck Eight where she could take the main aftward access tube all the way to Engineering. Before leaving her office the previous evening she’d sent a message to Commander Graham’s inbox asking that he come up with a few options for employing the RDS without risking the failure modes they’d experienced on other systems when it decided to fail.

  She’d complained bitterly to Tsuyo and CENTCOM both about the abysmal reliability of a drive that had been fitted to an active duty combat vessel, but the excitement of the brass for the new drive trumped the strident complaints of even the legendary Captain Wright. So, without wasting further time and effort trying to get management, as she’d come to view them, to see it her way she had decided to trust her own engineering crews to find an acceptable solution. It was either that or she’d jettison it over an unpopulated planet before returning to New Sierra.

  “Commander Graham,” she announced her arrival loudly to be heard over the noise of the machinery in the bowels of her ship. “I hope you have some good news for me.”

  “I do indeed, Captain,” Graham said. A fellow Britannic citizen, his accent was similar to hers, but a practiced ear would be able to tell they likely didn’t come from the same planet within the enclave.

  “It was a fairly simple solution, but a degree of difficulty is induced by the sheer size of the components needed, not to mention the safety concerns. To be perfectly honest, Captain, this is something that should have been built into the RDS pod before they ever tapped Icarus’s MUX.”

  “Very good, Commander.” Celesta suppressed smiling at the enthusiastic man. For some reason he always took that as a mocking gesture. “I am prepared to be awed by your engineering prowess.”

  “The problem is, at its core, a simple one,” Graham assumed his “lecturing” voice and mannerisms, clasping his hands behind his back and leading Celesta deeper into the heart of the ship. “The RDS develops unexpected variances in its power supply and causes a push-pull on the MUX. Sometimes it’ll draw enormous amounts of current unexpectedly, other times it will dump so much power back on the bus that it blows out the junction.

  “Tsuyo R&D assured us that this was all accounted for, and to be fair there is an extensive detection and suppression network on the power taps, but what we’re finding in real world testing on Icarus is that the MUX controllers aren’t always ready for what the RDS power sub-system does. I’ve had discussions with the Amsterdam’s chief engineer while we’re in such close com range and he agrees with my findings.”

  The Icarus, like every other starship since humans had begun leaving Earth, utilized a “smart” electrical distribution system that allowed the computer to monitor and prioritize where power was sent. It utilized a multiplexing system, or MUX, to distribute power and reduce the amount of wiring stuffed into a ship that was hundreds of meters long. It also had many redundancies and safeties built in to prevent the ship from being damaged, the same safeties that were causing them problems when it came to their new reactionless drive.

  “And what solution do you suggest to mitigate this?” Celesta asked.

  “In descending order of preference I would first take the ship back to New Sierra and tell Tsuyo to either pull the RDS pod or properly integrate it into the ship’s power distribution system,” Graham said, ticking off the points on his fingers. “Barring that, I would leave it disconnected and simply refuse to risk the safety of the ship over what is proving to be a system that isn’t ready for active deployment. Third, I would order my teams to begin fabricating an interface consisting of up and downstream surge detectors coupled to fast-break load contactors. What this should do, in theory, is very simple: When an event is detected the connection to the main bus is broken before the RDS has a chance to damage our power system.”

  “Cons?”

  “We’re breaking the connection completely,” Graham shrugged. “That means when power is reapplied that it won’t just come back up. You’ll have to reinitialize the entire startup sequence again.”

  Celesta frowned. The startup on the RDS was an intricate and lengthy procedure that also required they shut down a myriad of other systems that would interfere with the initial calibration of the field generators. Realistically that meant that if Graham’s interface was triggered and cut the drive during combat, or even normal intrasystem flight, that would be it: no RDS for the remainder of the operation until they could call for a full stop somewhere.

  She was also worried about what that would mean for her bridge crew, specifically Navigation and Helm control. If a course was plotted with the assumption the RDS was available, and the helm was flying that course, what would happen if the drive dropped out without notice? The MPD main engines were kept primed and ready as standard operating procedure, but their performance envelope was completely unlike what the reactionless drive was capable of.

  “Proceed with your least favorite option, Commander Graham,” Celesta said after a moment of thought. “Go right to the point that you actually tap the interface into the MUX. Worst case scenario is that your people get some invaluable training and familiarity with the new hardware while fabricating the necessary parts.”

  “That’s not the worst case scenario, with all due respect, Captain,” Graham said with a slow shake of his head. “But I will get my crews to work immediately on the interface. I will alert you as soon as we’re ready to implement it, of course.”

  “Thank you, Commander,” Celesta nodded. “Carry on.” Her trip back to the command deck was filled with doubts about the orders she’d just given. Was she as enamored with the idea of a gravity engine as the CENTCOM brass was? Maybe she should have told Commander Graham to pull and stow all the cables leading to the RDS pod and leave it as useless ballast until they returned to New Sierra. As the lift doors opened she pushed thoughts of Tsuyo’s engineering debacle out of her head and began to gather her thoughts a
bout the upcoming push back into Xi’an. Not only did she not know what she would find there, she also had to consider that her taskforce’s very presence would be seen as a hostile act by the Asianic Union should she be spotted.

  Chapter 4

  “Let’s be quick about this, everyone,” Celesta said to the wall-sized monitor that was split seven ways so she could simultaneously talk to each starship captain and the CIS agent. “I want to be transitioning out of this system within the next forty-eight hours. For the sake of clarity allow me to state that my orders give me operational control over this mission, but as of now I’m just as much in the dark as any of you. Agent Uba, would you please rectify that?”

  “Of course, Captain,” the agent said, seeming unsurprised at the abrupt introduction and handoff. “Captains, before I begin let me say that this is classified Top Secret, Special Instruction Level Six. Even though there may not technically be a Confederacy at the moment, CENTCOM will still come down on all of us like a hammer should word of this get out.”

  “We know what classified means, Agent Uba,” Captain Kolsh of the heavy cruiser Leighton said testily. “Please get on with it.”

  “Approximately four months ago a proximity beacon was detected in the Xi’an System,” Uba continued, unruffled. “It was first determined that this was some sort of ruse or even threat by the Asianic Union, even if our analysts didn’t fully understand the context. Three and a half weeks ago the prox beacon stopped and a full power emergency beacon was detected from the same ship. The coding of this ship’s emergency beacon wouldn’t have been something the AU was privy to.”

  “Which ship are we talking about, Agent Uba?” Celesta asked.

  “Starwolf-class destroyer, Seventh Fleet,” Uba said, his face impassive. “It’s not transmitting its registry, however, so that’s all we know.”

  “Well we know that’s impossible,” Celesta said after a long, uncomfortable silence where she could sense everyone watching her closely. “Every Starwolf-class ship is accounted for and Tsuyo will not be making any more.”

  “I’m well aware of that, Captain,” Uba said. “Our initial recon of the system indicates that there is something of appropriate mass, however, that is squawking classified codes identifying it as a Black Fleet destroyer. We have now been waiting here, one warp flight away, for your taskforce to arrive so that we may thoroughly debunk what our sensors are telling us and, if possible, link it back to the AU. Consider the second task our mission priority.”

  “So the analysts are convinced that this is an AU ploy?” Kolsh asked.

  “We believe so,” Uba nodded. “While we’re unsure how they would have gotten the proper code sequence for the transponder, we’re relatively certain there is no other logical explanation.”

  “I’m inclined to agree,” Celesta nodded. “But why? If it’s supposed to be a message I’m afraid I don’t understand it.”

  “Your former CO has become a reviled character behind the closed border of ESA space,” Captain McKenzie of the First Fleet frigate Midlands said, her accent identifying her as not a Britannia native despite her posting. “In order to absolve themselves from the blame for costing the lives of billions, the AU and Warsaw Alliance governments adopted an official position blaming the attacks on the reckless behavior of a certain Starfleet captain from Earth. As these things often go, he has been morphed into a nefarious caricature that some people believe led the Phage to them on purpose. Using a Starwolf-class beacon signal could be aimed at him. This might be some sort of propaganda effort as much for the benefit of their people as it is a message or warning to us.”

  “Absurd.” Celesta scoffed at the idea the AU was blaming Wolfe for actions they had perpetrated. “But the point is well taken. This could be a threat or a warning that we’re not able to fully comprehend due to being closed off from what’s happening on ESA worlds.” She was becoming more comfortable now that it was apparent that this was humans playing games and nothing more. Even if there was an ESA fleet sitting near Xi’an they’d be able to simply fly the perimeter of the system and transition out before anyone was close enough to do something foolish.

  “I wish there was more, but that’s the long and short of it,” Uba said. “I’ll have the raw data from our limited recon flights transmitted to each of your ships immediately.”

  “Thank you, Agent Uba.” Celesta stood and began to pace behind the conference table, the camera on the wall automatically tracking her movements and keeping her in the center of the frame. “I would ask each of you to review the data thoroughly, and if there are any questions or concerns contact the Icarus before we reach our jump point. In light of the brief I am bumping formation’s movement up five hours. Be ready to begin transition acceleration seven hours from now. If there’s nothing else?” She left the question hanging in the air, directing her gaze to each of her fellow captains for a second. “Very well,” she nodded. “Dismissed. Icarus out.”

  “Channel closed and secured, ma’am,” Ellison said. She’d brought her bridge com officer to run the equipment during the conference since he’d already been privy to all the com calls coming in from the Prowler.

  “I had better not learn of any scuttlebutt on the lower decks about Confederate ships appearing in the Xi’an System, Mr. Ellison,” Celesta said sternly.

  “No, ma’am,” Ellison agreed. “Unless you need me further, Captain?”

  “You’re dismissed, Lieutenant,” she said. Ellison spun smartly and unlocked the conference room hatch before escaping his captain’s steely gaze. Her warning hadn’t been just idle fretting on her part; the rumor mill on every starship seemed to plod along with an almost comforting regularity, but recently it had shifted into high gear aboard the Icarus. The phenomenon seemed to really gain some steam about two weeks after Ellison had reported aboard. Her command style required that she have a bit more proof, however, before accusing one of her officers of disseminating classified information.

  Celesta sighed in irritation at some of the more mundane aspects of command. But, mundane or not, things like a bridge crewman with loose lips had to be addressed. She picked up her tile and comlink, slipping the latter into her utilities, before leaving the conference room for the bridge to prep her ship for the last leg before they reached the objective. If this was indeed the ESA as she suspected, it would mark a strange kickoff to what promised to be a long and especially contentious cold war.

  ****

  “Report!”

  “Icarus has successfully transitioned into the Xi’an System, Captain,” the nav specialist called out. “Position confirmed within fifteen thousand kilometers of target.”

  “Tactical, begin full passive scans of the system. Helm! Bear to starboard and clear the jump point, maneuvering thrusters only,” Celesta ordered before turning her head slightly. “Coms?”

  “It’s there, ma’am,” Lieutenant Ellison confirmed. “Decrypting now. The file header is properly formatted ... It looks legitimate. Reading a strong beacon for a Terran Starfleet Starwolf-class destroyer, no registry identification transmitted with the message.”

  “OPS, stow the warp drive and clear Engineering to start main engines,” Celesta said. “Coms, begin working with Tactical to ascertain where the signal is coming from and put your directional data on the Link. When the rest of the taskforce arrives we’ll be able to triangulate and pinpoint a position.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  “The Prowler and the Leighton have just transitioned in, ma’am,” Accari reported. “Waiting on confirmation that they’re moving into position.”

  “Very well.” Celesta stood up. “Nav, send our first course and speed change to the helm. Helm, when you have main thrust available you’re clear to engage the mains, ahead one-quarter.”

  “Ahead one-quarter when mains come up, aye,” the helmsman said. It was another few minutes before she saw her helmsman reach over and advance the twin throttles up to twenty-five-percent thrust.

  “Engines ans
wering ahead one-quarter, Captain. Icarus is now under power.”

  “The Prowler, Leighton, and Midlands have all initialized their Link connections,” the tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Adler reported. “The computer is processing the incoming data stream. We’ll have a rough location within a few hours and will resolve with more accuracy as the formation spreads.”

  The other ships slowly filtered into the system and began deploying as the Icarus continued her course down into the system in the opposite direction of the Prowler while the Midlands and Leighton fanned out above and below in relation to the ecliptic. Celesta could feel herself tensing up and tried to force herself to relax. This wasn’t likely to be anything more than a bizarre but otherwise harmless action from the Asianic Union.

  “Beacon is confirmed, Captain,” Ellison reported. “As far as the computer is concerned, that is a Starwolf-class destroyer down there.”

  Celesta just nodded to her com officer but didn’t answer. That wasn’t welcome news. She’d assumed once the computer began parsing through the encrypted portion of the beacon transmission it would become apparent that it was a fake. It was actually the main reason an encrypted sign/counter sign signal was piggybacked onto the standard distress call, to keep someone from doing just what she thought the AU was doing and baiting a trap with another ship’s emergency transponder signal.

  It was another two hours before they were able to lock down a general location for the signal’s origin. When she saw it Celesta began to doubt her initial assessment as to what they were seeing.

  “Nav, plot a course to the signal’s point of transmission. Ahead full,” she said quietly.

  “All engines ahead full, aye.” The deck began to vibrate gently as the two massive plasma engines ran up to full power and the Icarus raced down into the system.