New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  “Tactical, begin active scans,” Celesta said. “Coms, tell the rest of the taskforce to remain silent. Let’s only have one ship broadcasting until we get a better idea of what it is we’re dealing with.”

  “Active array is coming up now, ma’am” Adler said. “Threat board will begin populating once we start getting returns.”

  “Do you think it might not be prudent to at least arm the forward missile banks, ma’am?” Barrett leaned in and asked quietly. “This is starting to spook me a bit.”

  “Do you really think that’s one of our ships down there?” Celesta asked as she considered his request.

  “I don’t see how, Captain,” Barrett almost whispered. “But I know I’m really hoping it isn’t and for more than one reason.”

  “I think I take your meaning, Commander,” Celesta nodded before raising her voice. “Tactical! Arm the forward missile banks, Hornets only. Standard yield and don’t tie the guidance into the active array just yet.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Adler said, clearly surprised. “Missiles initializing; they’ll be available in thirty seconds.”

  Celesta didn’t bother to clarify her orders further as she watched the first weak returns begin to show up on the threat board. The computer would begin trying to correlate the objects to anything in the database to assign a threat number to each. The threat board itself was a holographic representation of local space that was overlaid upon the main display, and she could adjust the opacity of the outside view from her terminal so that the detail wasn’t lost. It would make more sense if the main display didn’t show the outside view at all, but studies had shown that crews had lower stress levels if they could see outside the ship, even if the “view” was nothing more than an image put up on a display.

  “How long until we can begin visual confirmations of the objective?” Celesta asked.

  “At current speed and assuming our degree of accuracy increases with proximity … roughly thirty-nine hours, ma’am,” Accari said, earning him an annoyed glare from Adler, who was still trying to get the proper display pulled up.

  “Coms, let the other department heads know I want to maintain our alert status but we’re more than a day from knowing any more than we do now,” Celesta said. “Make sure they’re on normal watch schedules and that their people are rested and ready. OPS, dig into the archives and find out if we have any intel on what was physically left of the planet Xi’an after the Phage Charlies were done using it for target practice.”

  “At once, Captain,” Accari said crisply before turning from his main console to the auxiliary station to his left, programming it to begin fishing through the Icarus’s servers to find the information his captain wanted. Celesta watched her bridge crew go about their tasks, still feeling the tension hanging in the air, when her comlink buzzed. She flipped it over and looked at the message.

  Captain, all parts for the RDS interface have been fabricated, tested, and are ready to implement. –Commander Graham

  “Commander Barrett, would you please accompany me to Engineering.” She stood up. “Ensign Accari, you have the bridge … I need Lieutenant Commander Adler focused on tracking and identifying our objective.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am,” Accari said while making no move to leave the OPS station. Celesta liked that he had the good sense to realize that he could manage the bridge from his post, enabling him to continue doing his primary job.

  “Is there some problem, Captain?” Barrett asked as he followed her to the lifts.

  “Not yet,” she said. “I’ve had Commander Graham working on a solution that will allow us to use the RDS with a greater degree of confidence and he just messaged saying he’s ready for me to give him a go, no-go on implementing it. I’d like your opinion added to the mix when he tries to sell me on the idea and I try to poke holes in it.”

  “Then in the spirit of full disclosure I must admit that I’ve never been as enthusiastic about the RDS pod being installed on the Icarus as CENTCOM seemed to be, ma’am,” Barrett said.

  “Go on,” Celesta crossed her arms over her chest as the lift began to move with a barely perceptible lurch. Barrett took a deep breath before continuing.

  “I feel like Tsuyo took too many shortcuts to adapt the system to a ship that was never designed to carry it,” Barrett said. “I love the idea of Terran ships being able to thumb Sir Isaac Newton in the eye and ride around on waves of gravimetric distortion, but I’d love it a lot more if it was something built into the next generation of starship.”

  “So it’s the retrofit that has you so negative towards the idea?”

  “Half-assed retrofit, ma’am,” Barrett corrected. “The pod was supposed to be this universal one-size-fits-all solution for ships with a Class IV powerplant, but even during testing they knew it was prone to fits and could damage the power distribution system. Sorry, Captain, but I’m firmly of a mind that the RDS pod bolted to the stern of the Icarus is nothing more than a politically mandated liability. This would have never happened if__” Barrett trailed off and his eyes widened as he realized what he almost said.

  “You can say it, Commander,” Celesta said evenly, her eyes boring into his. “Jackson Wolfe would have never allowed that system on his ship.”

  “Ma’am, I—”

  “You will remain silent until I have finished speaking,” she said, her voice still calm and steady. “I am not Captain Wolfe. For better or worse, we’re not cut from the same cloth and I do not buck the chain of command for the fun of it at every whim.” She let out a breath before continuing.

  “I understand and share your loyalty to him, Commander. His singlemindedness likely saved our species from extinction, but I cannot emulate him. The data from the RDS pod on the Icarus will be invaluable for Fleet engineers when it comes to outfitting it on the new ships being built.”

  “Captain, I sincerely regret what it was that I was about to say. It was certainly not meant to be an insult towards you.” Barrett looked miserable. “Serving on your ship is as much an honor for me as being on the Ares was. I apologize for my careless words.”

  “No apology is necessary, XO,” Celesta said as the lift stopped and the doors slid open. “I just want to make sure we’re both clear on where the other stands.”

  The walk down to Engineering was quiet and uncomfortable. Celesta regretted turning on her XO and friend as she had in the lift, but his careless comment, although not meant to disparage her, had hit a little too close to home. Wolfe would absolutely not have allowed the RDS pod to be installed on the Ares if he thought it would compromise her ability to perform her duty or keep the crew safe, and if they forced the issue he would have had the chief engineer jettison it before the first warp transition.

  The reasons she listed off to Barrett were true, but they didn’t tell the whole story of what she was feeling. She did wish there was a bit more of Wolfe’s brazen independence in her, but there had to be some middle ground she could find. Being so openly disobedient was not only destructive to the Fleet but also set a bad example to the crew. He could get away with it because by the time he took command of the Ares he was already a legend. But wasn’t she as well? Many gave the nod to her when it came to the almost inevitable comparison between Captain Wolfe and Captain Wright, his former XO and protégé. She had led the Icarus on a single-ship slaughter of hundreds of Phage units while flying within their own formations, a feat not matched during the entire war.

  “Captain, XO,” Commander Graham nodded to the pair as they walked in through the hatchway. “Would you like the long version or the short version?”

  “Short first, then I’ll decide how much more detail I want at the moment,” Celesta said. Graham was a first rate engineer, but he could be incredibly long-winded when giving technical explanations.

  “We can reintegrate the RDS pod into the MUX with our surge detection equipment in place to protect main bus integrity, and we even found a way to keep all the calibration settings from being lost during an event that
shuts down the drive,” Graham said.

  “A little more detail, if you please, Commander,” Celesta said.

  “Tsuyo engineers had originally used a single, high-power tap to the pod in order to make it more of a self-contained, easily installed system.” Graham motioned for them to follow him. “The power regulation and distribution for the pod’s subsystems was handled internally. We’ve broken these out so that we can isolate the power input to the primary field generators and those will be the lines that we’ll run through the switching network.”

  “What’s the advantage to this?” Barrett asked. Barrett’s background was in engineering, which was the main reason Celesta had brought him along. He would be able to see through Graham’s enthusiasm and also know if her chief engineer was skimping on some of the details in order to get the answer he wanted from his captain. She had taken the requisite technical courses during her time at the Academy, of course, but her specialization was military history and political science.

  “Since we’re now able to keep the pod’s control systems powered up during an emergency disconnect, theoretically once power is restored to the field generators the RDS should come back up almost instantly on its original settings. This would eliminate the need for the reset and recalibration we’ve had to do every time the drive blew out a power junction.”

  “Can this be done while we’re underway?” Celesta asked.

  “All work to the pod can be done while we’re under power,” Graham nodded. “But to connect the interrupt network to the power junctions I’ll have to shut down part of the main bus in that area. The systems that will be affected are artificial gravity and aft-facing sensors.”

  “How long will you need to shut that down?”

  “The connections themselves will only take a few minutes, but call it an even hour by the time we safely secure and shutdown each system, do the work, and then bring everything back up in an orderly manner,” Graham said.

  “Go ahead and begin the work up to the point you need to start shutting down systems,” Celesta said. “I’ll make the call on whether to proceed based on what’s happening at that moment.”

  “Aye aye, ma’am.” Commander Graham was obviously quite pleased with the outcome of the conversation. “I’ll get my teams on it right away.”

  “Very good, Commander,” Celesta nodded. “We’ll leave you to it then.”

  “You’re considering reintegrating the RDS while we’re flying down the well towards a potential engagement?” Barrett asked once they were in the starboard main access tube and out of earshot of anyone in Engineering. His tone of voice clearly indicated he was surprised at her decision.

  “I’m not inclined to do so at this time,” Celesta said. “But there won’t be any harm in allowing Commander Graham to complete all the preparatory work now and then do the final hookups later once we find out what we’re flying towards.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Barrett said. “If I may say so, I’m relieved.”

  “Understandably so, Commander,” Celesta smiled. “Your distrust of the RDS has been well-stated.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Barrett looked away uncomfortably.

  “You should be hoping that I allow Commander Graham to pursue this project,” Celesta said as they reached the first lifts that would take them to the upper decks of the main hull before having to take another lift into the superstructure.

  “Why’s that, Captain?”

  “Because that will mean we’ve investigated this strange beacon down near Xi’an and found that it was nothing to be alarmed about,” Celesta said.

  “Very true,” Barrett nodded his agreement. “Allow me to withdraw my previous protests.”

  “Consider them withdrawn, XO.”

  Chapter 5

  “We’re within visual range of the target now, Captain,” Ensign Accari reported as soon as Celesta stepped onto the bridge. “Data is being run through processing now to clean up and highlight the objective.”

  “Let’s get a confirmation as soon as we can, Ensign,” Celesta took her seat. It had been a boring, slow flight down into the system as the taskforce could detect nothing else of interest save for the continually chirping transponder that still insisted it was a Starwolf-class ship. Of the three such ships remaining Celesta knew that the Icarus was the only one anywhere near the Frontier, so it would be fascinating to see what it was that had been transmitting the distress call.

  “This … can’t be right,” Accari muttered to himself.

  “You have something, Ensign?” Barrett said loudly.

  “Yes, sir … but—”

  “Just put it on the main screen, Ensign,” Celesta said a bit impatiently. “Let’s all see it at once and then discuss what has you so out of sorts.” Accari wordlessly sent the images to the main screen and sat back expectantly.

  Celesta stood and walked near the left side of the screen, intending to view the cleaned-up images in order. The first showed nothing of distinction, just a dark shape that might have been a ship. The next image made her stop and frown. It was certainly the right profile for a Starwolf-class ship. The third image left no doubt that whatever the object really was, it had been made to look just like the Terran destroyer it claimed to be. The next few images she skipped over as they just showed the same level of detail at slightly different angles. When she came to one of the final images, however, all the blood drained from her face. The angle was just right so that they could clearly see the dorsal surface of the prow section and the spot where a ship’s name and registry had been helpfully highlighted by the sensor backshop:

  TCS ARES

  DS-701B

  “Captain, I suggest we go to general quarters,” Barrett said, breaking the stunned silence on the bridge.

  “Sound general quarters,” Celesta said without turning away from the display. “And then you can explain why we’re getting ready for a fight.”

  “Sound general quarters!” Barrett barked to Lieutenant Ellison. “Set condition 1SS! Prepare the Icarus for battle!” Celesta waited with strained patience until Barrett approached and pointed out something on one of the more clear images.

  “Ma’am, I strongly suspect that this really is the Ares despite how unlikely that is,” he said. “See this area here … on the ventral surface? That’s damage from a kinetic weapon she sustained on the mission to kill the Phage core mind. The location of the Ares was classified and the data was imprecise due to our unfamiliarity with the area. If it’s a fake”—he trailed off for a moment, seeming to collect his thoughts—“to replicate the damage so perfectly, damage that wasn’t recorded or reported other than word of mouth, is just too much.” Celesta just looked at him for a moment.

  “Ensign Accari?” she said, not taking her eyes off Barrett’s. What he was adamantly claiming was so absurd she felt her OPS officer would be the voice of reason.

  “I concur, ma’am,” Accari said. “The damage shown in the images is consistent with the battle damage taken by the Ares during her final mission. I am forced to agree with Commander Barrett’s assessment that this really is our former ship.”

  “So … how does a ship too damaged to fly that was left in an unknown, uncharted region manage to get itself all the way back to Terran space?” Celesta asked, her hands clasped behind her back. “Not just back, but precisely to the place where the entire war was started.”

  “I’d say it was brought here,” Barrett said. “When we abandoned her, the hull was so badly compromised that she wouldn’t have survived a single warp transition.”

  “And nobody we know of, other than the Vruahn, has the ability to move a destroyer halfway across the quadrant,” Celesta said. “Since I doubt it was them, and in spite of Admiral Marcum’s insistence otherwise, this reeks of the Phage.”

  “The Phage were destroyed, Captain,” Accari said firmly and with absolute conviction.

  “I hope that you’re right, Mister Accari,” Celesta said. “Please return the view to a live feed of the … Ar
es … and signal the rest of the taskforce to begin converging on our position. I want no change in their velocity until so ordered by me. Transmit the data we have so far to the Prowler as well.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” Ellison said as Accari switched the main screen back to a live view of the Ares. Through the high-powered optics of the Icarus they were able to begin making out more detail in the false-color composite image the computers were generating through the multi-spectral sensor suite. Celesta’s stomach was in knots. Someone had brought Wolfe’s last ship to the Xi’an System as a powerful statement, she was certain of it. Nothing else made sense other than possibly an unbelievably elaborate and inexplicable hoax by the ESA.

  “We’ve received confirmation of orders from the rest of the taskforce, ma’am,” Ellison reported after a tense hour and a quarter had passed.

  “Anything else coming from the Ares other than the distress beacon?” Celesta asked.

  “Negative, ma’am,” Ellison said.

  “Any change in the ship at all?”

  “No, ma’am,” Accari said. “She’s still in the same slow tumble in a trailing orbit behind the chunk of what used to be Xi’an.”

  “Well, let’s kick the hornet’s nest and see what comes flying out,” she sat back in her seat. “Tactical, is the Icarus fully prepared to defend herself?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Adler answered.

  “Coms, transmit a message to the Ares requesting a status update,” she said. “Let’s see if we get an answer.”

  “Transmitting now—whoa!” Ellison shouted as the main display washed out in a flash of white.

  “The Ares has just exploded!” Adler exclaimed. “The force of the blast is out of range for our sensors. It must have been immense. I’m beginning to run—”

  “Incoming transmission, all bands,” Ellison cut off the tactical officer. “Putting it through now on bridge speakers.” Celesta didn’t bother to chastise him for not asking if she wanted the message sent to her station first. Truth be told, she was just a bit overwhelmed herself.