New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  Like all Terran starships, the forward third of the ship was sparsely populated since there were all kinds of nasty sources of radiation and other dangers. All the high-power transmission equipment for the radars and high-power com systems were up there and the RF leakage from the waveguides and transmission lines was a definite health hazard. The munitions magazines were also forward of the centerline, but even the big nukes like the Shrikes were so well-shielded there was little danger from exposure from those.

  “Tactical, target and track all enemy ships ahead of us,” Celesta ordered as Barrett began moving the rest of the crew back to their battle stations now that all maintenance actions were completed. He also reinitiated the pressure hatch lock-down that was supposed to be in effect whenever the ship was at general quarters. He’d relented to make it easier for the work crews while all the enemy ships were accounted for.

  “I want all ships being targeted with each primary weapon by the computer,” Celesta continued. “Have it constantly update ranging data.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” Adler said, the request a bit unusual. Normally a ship would be targeted by a specific weapon and the tactical computer would build a firing solution based on that so the ship could be repositioned and properly configured for that particular weapon. To have it tracking all targets and updating to fire all of their primary weapon systems she had to tell it to ignore a lot of conflicting inputs that would just cause it to spit out warnings and alerts non-stop.

  “Helm, engines to zero thrust,” Celesta said calmly, taking a sip from her coffee, an island in the middle of the hectic bustling as the bridge crew prepped the Icarus for the coming engagement. “Steady as she goes.”

  “Engines answering zero thrust, aye,” the helmsman said. “Maintaining course and velocity.”

  Celesta saw the ship was travelling at .22c, or twenty-two percent the speed of light. That was far above their safe transition velocity envelope so eventually she would need to scrub that speed off, but she wanted to keep their closure rate high enough that the Darshik ships didn’t have much of a chance to adjust to any moves she made.

  “Aft targets have disappeared,” Lieutenant Commander Adler said just as they crossed the imaginary line that meant they were fully committed to the Epsilon jump point. “One target has reappeared in the enemy picket line.”

  “Keep an eye out for that other—” Barrett never got a chance to finish his sentence.

  “Second target has reappeared off our starboard flank! Range is one hundred and twenty thousand kilometers and closing.”

  “Target the closest bogey, two Shrikes,” Celesta said calmly, watching the tactical display and enjoying the fact the target was close enough to get real-time reporting on its position. The ship had angled over and was now accelerating towards them, trying to bring its prow to bear and obviously planning on firing its plasma lance into the Icarus’ flank. It hadn’t fully committed, however, and was crabbing in while maintaining its forward speed and ability to accelerate to match the Terran ship.

  “Helm! Full reverse!”

  “All engines full reverse thrust, aye!” They were all thrown forward a bit when the Icarus groaned and shuddered as the main engines reversed thrust and began hauling them down from their relativistic velocity. It had been a move the enemy ship hadn’t expected as it put the Terran ship at greater risk from the ships ahead, but Celesta had no choice: She had to eliminate the closest threat before worrying about those still far out of range.

  “Fire at will!” Celesta barked even as Adler adjusted her firing solution while the Darshik cruiser turned in and tried to chop its own speed.

  “Missiles one and two away! Stagger fire, three-second interval,” Adler called even as the weapon telemetry and status appeared on the main display and the tactical computer added tracks so they could track their progress. Since the Icarus was still braking and the Darshik cruiser was still trying to turn in, the missiles closed the gap very quickly. The first missile was defeated by the enemy’s point defense, but the second slammed into the cruiser amidships, the hardened penetrator of the Shrike punching clean through the hull. The fission/fusion warhead detonated a moment later and the ship seem to expand slightly and simply disappear on the long-range optics.

  “Holy shit!” Barrett said softly. “Must have hit them right in the sweet spot.”

  “Helm, engines ahead full,” Celesta said, watching their velocity continue to drop as they streaked by the expanding cloud of debris. “Nav, begin final course corrections for Epsilon transition. Helm, at ten percent under transition velocity cut the engine thrust to zero.” She received a chorus of confirmations as she watched the Darshik picket line redeploy based on what they’d just seen. Their ships were a decent match for the more advanced classes of Terran ships, with comparable weaponry, but the Shrike missiles the humans built to kill a Phage Super Alpha were always deadly if they slipped past the defense screens.

  “Their flankers are accelerating down towards us,” Barrett said. “They’ll begin to turn in once they feel like we won’t have the room to reverse course.”

  Celesta just nodded in agreement. Barrett had been a tactical officer before serving as her XO, and his insights were born from extensive training backed up by combat experience so she rarely found reason to disagree with him, and this wasn’t going to be one of those times. It was clear the Darshik ships were moving with confidence as the ships protecting the edges began to push down to cut off any last-minute abort she might have planned.

  Over the next six hours the Darshik formation continued to redeploy until they had a single ship anchoring the net and the other five branching out almost equidistant from each other and coming in on them at a shallow angle. It didn’t take a tactical genius to see that they were going to try and slowly collapse their formation until the Icarus had nowhere to go and could be pounded by the five ships nearly simultaneously.

  “Tactical, target the furthest, centermost ship with four Hornets,” Celesta ordered. “Then get me an updating fire solution for the auto-mag and stand by. OPS! Let me know when the leading edge of the enemy formation collapses down to the one-hundred-thousand-kilometer range.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” Adler said.

  “Numbers coming up on the main display, Captain,” Accari said.

  Despite the way space combat had evolved in such a short period, it was the timing that Celesta never got used to. Days of nothing, just flying to or fleeing from an engagement and then, as ships came together, it was fast and furious for a few harrowing moments and then back to waiting. It flew in the face of centuries of accepted doctrine in the Terran fleet that all fighting would be done from a safe distance with guided or ballistic weaponry. From the way the Darshik ships seemed to have evolved, and the weaponry they employed, it appeared they’d never considered standoff warfare as a viable option. Nearly all their weapons required their ships to get in very close and try to knock out an enemy at ranges that Terran captains wouldn’t consider other than during docking maneuvers.

  “Helm, all ahead emergency,” Celesta said, watching the ranging data closely.

  “All engines ahead emergency, aye.” The helmsman deftly disengaged the safety locks and soon the deck was rumbling harshly as Celesta watched her main engines climb to one hundred and thirty-one percent of their designed maximum output. The computers that controlled the engines wouldn’t let her destroy them without a secondary safety lockout being overridden from the command console at her seat. They would pull the power back or allow it to climb as it monitored the electromagnetic constrictors, the nozzles, and the plasma pressure in each MPD. All the participants in the battle were close enough that her maneuver had an immediate effect as the Icarus accelerated to the point that the flanking enemy ships had to increase their intercept angles and would likely still overrun the destroyer.

  “OPS, keep an eye out for any fire from those flankers,” Celesta ordered. “Tactical, fire the Hornets and stand by for the auto-mag.”


  “Firing!” Adler called and four missiles, much smaller than Shrikes, streaked away from the ship from the forward launch tubes. The missiles were all tracking true, but Celesta had no doubt the small interceptors would be destroyed by the Darshik cruiser before they could do any damage.

  “Tactical, you are clear to execute auto-mag firing sequence,” Celesta said as she authorized the tactical station to take over helm control from her own terminal, pressing her thumb to the screen for a biometric reading.

  “Initiating auto-mag sequence, aye,” Adler said. “Helm, zero thrust and stand by to relinquish control.” The auto-mag was an enormous rapid-fire rail gun that ran almost half the length of the ship. The barrel emerged from the prow along the centerline of the ship and just under the pointed nose of the composite radome that covered the sensor antennas. Unlike the preceding class of destroyer operated by Black Fleet, the Starwolf-class only had one cannon and it wasn’t mounted on an articulated turret. The entire ship had to be maneuvered to aim it, which wasn’t ideal, but the gun was a late addition to the design at the insistence of Jackson Wolfe.

  “We’re clear to fire, ma’am,” Adler said, wanting the final confirmation before unloading with the first of five, five-shot salvos she had programmed.

  “Stand by,” Celesta said, taking in the tactical picture on the threat board now that all the players were getting within close range of each other. She waited until the range to the forward target ticked just under seventy-five thousand kilometers to ensure the cruiser wouldn’t have much room to maneuver while it focused on the four Hornet missiles.

  “Fire!”

  The deck shook as one-thousand-millimeter tungsten shells with depleted uranium cores were hurled out of the Icarus at just over fifteen thousand meters per second. The gun was hard-mounted to the ship’s hull so each shot reverberated through the destroyer and the hull rang like a bell. The auto-mag could fire twenty-five rounds before it had to be reloaded, the coils cooled, and the capacitor banks recharged. By breaking that up into five smaller salvos, each correcting aim slightly to make a dispersed pattern, Celesta hoped to catch the cruiser flat-footed and maximize her chance at a direct hit as they were near the weapon’s maximum effective range.

  “Shots away,” Adler said. “Safing auto-mag for a reload and releasing attitude control to the helm.”

  “Helm, come starboard ten degrees, ahead full,” Celesta said.

  “One Hornet got through!” Accari called out. “Minor damage to the dorsal surface of the target.” They needed no confirmation when the auto-mag shells arrived as close as they were. While the optical sensors couldn’t quite pick up the cruiser itself, the brilliant flash of the penetrators ripping through the ship shone briefly like a new star before winking out.

  “Target is … destroyed!” Adler called out. “She’s breaking up into four distinct pieces.”

  “Were they able to get a shot off before our shells impacted?” Barrett asked.

  “No, sir,” she said. “Course ahead is clear all the way to Epsilon jump point.”

  “OPS, what are the remaining enemy ships doing?” Celesta asked, standing up.

  “Coming about to pursue, but they’re completely out of position, ma’am,” Accari said. “None will be able to close within weapons range given our current profile on that class of ship.”

  “Very well. Deploy the warp drive and tell Engineering to prepare for transition,” Celesta ordered. “Helm, we’re going to maintain acceleration and then decel just before we line up on our jump point.”

  “Acknowledged, Captain,” the helmsman said.

  “Nav, verify course and speed,” Celesta said. “OPS, prepare the Icarus to depart this damn—”

  “New contact! Dead aft, two ships just appeared,” Adler said.

  “Did two of the flanking cruisers jump in?” Celesta asked.

  “Negative. Radar profile indicates these are two Ushin ships, same configurations as the two that appeared in-system earlier,” Adler said. “They’re now accelerating to close the gap.”

  “How long until we transition out versus the time until they’re within assumed weapons range?” Celesta asked.

  “Currently five hours from transition, ma’am,” the nav specialist said. “That’s including decel maneuver.”

  “Assuming comparable weaponry to the Darshik and that they’re at maximum acceleration, they’ll not close to within weapons range until we slow for transition, Captain,” Accari said. “We could outrun them if we push the engines to flank.”

  “But then we’ll have to shed off even more speed as we near the jump point.” Celesta shook her head. “Maintain speed and heading. Tactical, target both Ushin ships with the aft tubes, one Shrike each. Coms, open a channel to our allies.”

  “Broadcasting on last known Ushin channel, ma’am,” Ellison said.

  “Attention pursuing Ushin vessels, this is Captain Wright aboard the Terran warship, Icarus,” Celesta said. “Break off pursuit and allow us to leave this system. We have already reported your actions to our leadership … there is nothing to be gained by further antagonizing this ship.”

  “We cannot give you leave,” an artificial voice replied back almost immediately. “Agreements made must be honored.” Celesta looked at Barrett in confusion and her XO in turn only shrugged.

  “How do you honor your agreement by betraying us and assisting the Darshik?” she asked, not really sure the translation on their side would be up to breaking down what she was asking.

  “A demand has been made. We must comply. Humanity will be made to suffer,” the voice said before the intercom chirped to indicate the channel had been closed. Ellison shook his head, indicating that it hadn’t been him that terminated the conversation.

  “At least we have a bit more of a coherent threat,” Barrett said. “I have to believe that in the absence of any senior leadership or guidance from the diplomatic corps that we must now consider the Ushin to be an equal threat to the Darshik.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right, XO,” Celesta said. She knew Barrett’s choice of words was deliberate and meant to not only state his opinion but to put it on official record that the Icarus was being forced to defend herself against a force that CENTCOM and the Federation Parliament considered an ally. But they were hundreds of lightyears from the capital and her first responsibility was to the ship and to the crew.

  “Tactical … fire the Shrikes.”

  “Missiles one and two away,” Adler said.

  Two Shrike nuclear penetrators fired from the aft tubes and fired their engines. In reality they were decelerating from the relative speed they carried from the Icarus and waiting for the Ushin ships to meet them, but on the tactical board the tracks showed two missiles racing to their targets.

  The Darshik had learned quickly to look for, and intercept, the small Terran missiles that packed such a big punch, but the Ushin were hopelessly ill-prepared for what was coming. Each Shrike slammed into the prow of its respective target, plunging deep into the guts of the cruisers before the warheads detonated. Both ships were instantaneously turned into clouds of expanding debris.

  Celesta didn’t know whether the Ushin ships could have actually harmed the Icarus. She believed the likelihood was low given that the Ushin appeared to be herding the Terran ships to where the Darshik were waiting, but it was a risk she wasn’t willing to take given how bizarrely off the rails the mission had gone since arriving in the system.

  The helmsman executed the braking maneuver as scheduled and the Icarus was slowed down to ten percent below her maximum transition velocity before the engines were shut down and secured. Celesta ordered all the tactical systems safed and the active sensors turned off as she took one last look at the threat board, the Darshik cruisers still pursuing but now too far back to be a threat. She hoped that out of all the com drones and ships that had returned to the Juwel System that CENTCOM would soon be getting a picture of how badly things had gone. She didn’t pretend to understand wha
t it all meant, but it was clear the Ushin had been manipulating the situation either on behalf of the Darshik or for their own reasons.

  “Stand by for warp transition!” the nav specialist called as the fore and aft distortion rings formed and began to stabilize, arcing out from the lateral emitters until the gravimetric energy created a visual effect on the main display. With a harsh shudder the Icarus disappeared from the system with barely a flash of light to mark her passing.

  After breathing a sigh of relief at escaping what was behind them, Celesta now had to worry about what was ahead of them.

  ****

  Chief of Staff Marcum sat behind his desk, drumming his fingers and trying to decide if he would take any direct action against Agent Pike or not. The man was protected at the highest levels, that was for sure, but he knew he could dig up enough dirt on the bastard that Wellington would have no choice but to distance himself. Pike may look at the new President as a benefactor, but Marcum knew him to be a politician above all else. He wouldn’t risk his new position or power to protect someone who technically didn’t even exist.

  He’d been sweating bullets on the ride down to the surface and Pike had him half-convinced he was walking into his own execution, but the agent had overplayed his hand and the meeting hadn’t gone nearly as poorly as he would have expected. Oh, there was a lot of bluster and cursing from the President, but it was more on being left out of the loop than anything else. Once Marcum had explained just how sensitive the project was due to the Vruahn connection, Wellington had conceded that he’d probably done the right thing.

  What had really surprised him, however, was that the project output Wolfe had sent like it was a dire emergency had been largely blown off. The details were almost entirely technical, including some especially dry portions about beta decay and molecular signatures that the President couldn’t have cared less about. He wanted a brief synopsis and Wolfe, being the honest idiot he was, had stated that the evidence only suggested one possibility but wasn’t conclusive. Marcum had almost been able to see Wellington switch his brain off as soon as he heard that, despite Pike’s near desperate pleading that he take another look at the matter.