New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  “Executing next course change,” the helmsman said without prompting nearly seven hours later, veering them down into the system and beginning the wide loop that would eventually bring them back around with just enough room to accelerate, deploy the warp drive, and transition out. So far so good. It wasn’t that Celesta really expected to escape undetected, but their only option was to fly back through the system they’d just fled from, so she decided to roll the dice and hope against hope that the Icarus could sneak back out without the ships still in that system getting advanced warning.

  “Ma’am, we have an … anomaly … down near the Super Alpha,” Adler said as the Icarus slogged through her lazy turn. “Passives have been able to tentatively identify one of the ships near that lattice structure; the computer is making it as a Foster-class heavy cruiser with a forty percent degree of accuracy.”

  “The Leighton,” Barrett said. “They brought her here.”

  “Is that ship under power?” Celesta asked sharply.

  “It doesn’t appear so, ma’am,” Adler said. “The anomaly is reading as cold. No engines, no thermal exhaust, no discernable lights.”

  Celesta frowned. Like most Terran starships the Foster-class was capable of running “cold” for a limited time, but under normal operations an older ship like that would have a visible thermal plume from the cooling systems as well as the regular discharge of plasma over-pressure from the powerplant. She couldn’t imagine that the Leighton still had any survivors on it if it was reading as cold as surrounding space. Even if they had inexplicably decided to switch over to closed loop cooling right as the Icarus transitioned in, there would still be hot patches on the hull that wouldn’t have cooled that quickly. The ship just wasn’t designed or built for that level of stealth.

  Her presence did throw Celesta’s plan into flux, however. She could assume that there was no living crew aboard the Leighton, but she couldn’t assume that they were all dead. It was equally likely they’d been removed from the ship and were detained somewhere else. What would happen to them when her operation went live? She could still quietly recall her assets and just hope the small burp of EM radiation that required would escape notice, but then what? There was zero chance the Icarus and her small contingent of Marines could find the crew, effect a rescue, and escape so deep in Darshik territory, but would their operation sign their death sentence?

  All these questions flitted through Celesta’s head in less than a second as she realized there was still really only one option open to her. The crew of the Leighton had signed up for the same dangers her crew had, and while they deserved every chance for a rescue, there wasn’t a chance for that with one destroyer.

  “The op is still a go,” she said. This drew a few looks from her crew, some incredulous, others concerned, but she ignored them.

  “You heard the captain,” Barrett said sharply. “That ship is a derelict and we all know it. We have work to do, so let’s get to it.”

  This seemed to snap everyone out of their stunned silence and got them moving in the right direction again. Celesta understood the emotions they were feeling and even shared them, but her responsibility was to the Federation and to humanity as a whole … she had a chance to deliver a hard blow if her guess was correct, and she couldn’t shy away from that based on nothing more than a slim chance the Leighton crew was still alive. She sat back in her chair, the weight of her decision seeming to press her down into it as she thought about what might happen if she were wrong.

  ****

  “Your aggression is unwarranted. Your attacks were unprovoked. We will not allow you to continue. Like the Phage, you will learn a hard lesson of what happens when you attack humans. This will be your only warning.”

  The message was being broadcast at full power across the system from a Jacobson drone streaking at full speed in a heliocentric orbit just past the fourth planet. It had been loaded with multiple transmission modules and was spitting out the message on every frequency in both Standard and what their Ushin translation matrix had given them.

  “Second Jacobson has gone active,” Accari reported.

  “Helm, all ahead emergency,” Celesta ordered. “Bring the Icarus to transition velocity. OPS, stand by to deploy the warp drive.”

  “All engines ahead emergency, aye!”

  “Shrikes have fired their second stage boosters, weapons going active,” Adler said as she watched the mission clock. The Icarus was so far out that they had no idea if anything was actually happening save for the message being broadcast by the second drone since it had actually reached them. The rest was just assuming everything was working as it had been designed.

  “Icarus is at transition plus ten! Engines to zero thrust and securing from flight mode,” the helmsman called out.

  “Warp drive deploying, emitters and transition capacitors fully charged,” Accari said. “Turning over control to Nav.”

  “Stand by for warp transition!” the chief at Nav practically bellowed. With a hard shudder the destroyer vanished from the Darshik system without waiting to see what havoc they’d wrought.

  ****

  “Your aggression is unwarranted. Your attacks were unprovoked. We will not allow you to continue. Like the Phage, you will learn a hard lesson of what happens when you attack humans. This will be your only warning.”

  The Jacobson drone was still cheerfully broadcasting its message as its active sensors detected a Darshik ship crossing the pre-programmed threshold. It sent a burst transmission of its entire flight log to the waiting com drone and initiated a self-destruct, the powerful explosives it normally carried having been swapped out for a fusion warhead. The blast wasn’t enough to damage the ships closing on its position, but it was more than enough to ensure the Darshik wouldn’t be collecting anything big enough to study.

  The second Jacobson drone, the primary, had all sensors trained on the small flotilla and lattice structure that surrounded the Super Alpha when three Shrikes slammed into the organic hull of the Phage combat unit. The tertiary boosters flared briefly to further imbed the warheads before the powerful nuclear devices detonated, annihilating the Super Alpha. In turn, everything in the vicinity was also destroyed. The drone transmitted everything it had recorded and then began a real-time telemetry stream to the com drone until a Darshik ship finally came around and began to bear down on it. The Jacobson sent one last confirmation and then self-destructed.

  Once it received the final confirmation from the remaining Jacobson drone, the com drone, flying under an entirely new set of operational parameters, fired its plasma engine. The tiny spacecraft streaked up to transition velocity in less than three minutes and vanished in a little wink of light, leaving behind a system roiling with chaos and weapons fire.

  ****

  “Transition complete, position verified. We’re in the Juwel System.”

  The words were met with an almost audible sigh of relief on the bridge. It had been a long, long flight fleeing from the Darshik system. They’d entered the Tango system and had an easy enough time outrunning the three cruisers still there, skirting around the periphery without them being able to get even close. Celesta had fired her remaining Shrikes on the way out, but they’d already hit the Juwel jump point before the weapons intercepted the Darshik ships. What had alarmed her was that they seemed to already be putting the trap back together; three dummy formations had been flying around the target planet’s orbit just like those that had lured them in.

  “OPS, go ahead and fire up all our transponders and reconfigure the Icarus for normal flight,” Celesta ordered. “Coms, get a sitrep as soon as you can.”

  “Aye, ma’am,” the two officers said in unison.

  Celesta was mentally and physically exhausted and they weren’t even close to being back to home port. The com drone should have passed through here already as it was much faster than a starship, but there was no way to know since once it hit the platform and forwarded its data package it would be reprogrammed, refueled
, and deployed to wherever the automated system sent it. She knew it wasn’t even worth the trouble to try and see if their particular drone had hit the platform.

  “Ma’am, we have a message coming in from CENTCOM,” Lieutenant Ellison said. “They must have sent it as soon as they received our transponder signal. It’s text only.”

  “That’s never good,” Barrett mumbled, rubbing his bloodshot eyes.

  “Send it to my terminal,” Celesta said, pulling her monitor around. The message was short and to the point and left little doubt that her com drone had indeed managed to get its content out of Darshik space.

  Senior Captain Wright – you are ordered to proceed to New Sierra Platform at maximum sustainable speed. No contact is to be made with Fleet personnel in the Juwel System unless emergency technical assistance is required. –CENTCOM Routing Office.

  The message was properly formatted, if terse. While the Fleet com section wasn’t known for its eloquence when dispatching orders, the next part of the message cleared things up a bit more.

  Wright … get your ass back here immediately. The data you sent has leadership concerned, to put it mildly. You are ordered to talk to NO ONE about your mission. –Marcum

  “OPS, does the Icarus have enough consumables aboard to make it directly to the DeLonges System?” Celesta asked, rubbing at her temples.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Accari said after a moment. “We’re well within our operational envelope to make it all the way back with air, water, food, and propellant to spare.”

  “Fantastic,” Celesta said, her voice completely flat. “Nav, set a course for the DeLonges jump point and clear it with Juwel’s flight control. Helm, you’re clear to execute new course when you receive it, all ahead full. We need to be through this system as quickly as possible.”

  “Our com drone made it through?” Barrett asked.

  “I have to assume so looking at the message Admiral Marcum sent,” Celesta said. “What I can’t tell is what sort of welcome we’ll receive when we step off the gangway.”

  “Well … at least we have the long flight back home to think it over,” Barrett said sourly.

  “That’s the spirit, Commander,” Celesta said.

  Chapter 24

  “Welcome aboard the Pontiac, Admiral.”

  “Director,” Marcum said with a nod as he took Jackson Wolfe’s proffered hand.

  “I’ll admit to some surprise that you’re here personally,” Jackson said carefully. “Was there something in particular you’re wanting from Prometheus?”

  Marcum just smiled at Jackson in a way that made his stomach drop. The Chief of Staff held his hand out and his too-young aide put a tile in it.

  “Jackson Wolfe,” Marcum said, reading off the tile, “you are hereby relieved as Director of Project Prometheus. You will forfeit all pay and privileges associated with your assimilated rank and are terminated from civil service, effective immediately.”

  “I suppose I should have expected this,” Jackson said. “You must really be taking some perverse pleasure in this seeing as how you’ve flown here personally to fire me.”

  “I’m not done,” Marcum said, flicking his finger over the tile to bring up another document. “Jackson Wolfe, under the war powers authority vested in the President of the United Terran Federation, you are hereby recalled to active military service. Your last-held rank of Senior Captain is reinstated and you will report immediately to CENTCOM HQ, New Sierra Platform, for assignment and orders. There’s some other technical stuff in here about bringing you back into the fold, but you get the point … Captain.”

  It took a full second for what Marcum was saying to sink in.

  “This isn’t possible,” Jackson shook his head. “I retired. I’m not subject to recall.”

  “The Devil is in the details,” Marcum said with the same oily smile. “Your retirement was under the old Confederacy charter. The Federation has had much more foresight in drafting its new relationship with CENTCOM and Starfleet. It’s also retroactive. Come on, Wolfe … you’re too young to be retired anyway.”

  “You think this is funny?”

  “No, Captain, I don’t,” Marcum said, his voice hard. “But let’s both face facts for a moment; you’re not a researcher, you’re not a scientist, and you’re a mediocre civilian administrator at best. This project isn’t where you belong and it no longer needs you now that the damn Vruahn machine is talking to your assistants. What you are is a starship captain and, as much as it causes me physical pain to say this, you were a damn good one. At least so far as fighting your ship in a war was concerned.” He stopped himself in what looked like mid-tirade and blew out a slow breath.

  “We’re against the ropes again, Wolfe,” he went on. “With the ESA planets breaking away and refusing any contact from Fed-loyal worlds we’re in a bad way. Drafting you back in to take you away from your family isn’t something we would do if we felt it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Arcadia isn’t invulnerable. The Darshik could pop up here just as easily as they did in the DeLonges System.”

  “Low blow, but your point is well taken,” Jackson said. “What do you need me for?”

  “I’d like you to start analyzing the Darshik engagements,” Marcum said. “If we could—”

  “No,” Jackson said, holding up his hand. “I could do that here and, more to the point, the Cube would be faster and better at it than I would be … as it’s already proved if anybody would bother reading the reports I send out. I know that legally I could fight this, so if my conditions aren’t met I’ll simply refuse your orders and tie it up with lawyers so neither of us gets what we want.”

  “What are your conditions?” Marcum asked suspiciously.

  “I actually have only one,” Jackson said. “If you really think you need to drag me back into service then there’s only one place that makes sense for me to be. You said so yourself: It’s what I am.”

  “I suspected as much,” Marcum sighed. “Very well, Captain Wolfe … you will be reassigned to Black Fleet and put on the bridge of a starship again. You’ve got a couple weeks here and then I need you on your way to New Sierra. There’s a lot you need to be brought up to speed on, and I want you there to meet the Icarus when she finally makes it back so you can debrief Captain Wright. She’s kicked up a hell of a storm and it won’t be long before the Darshik come at us again.”

  ****

  “Icarus departing!” the Marine sentry bellowed from the top of the gangway as Celesta walked through the starboard boarding hatch, drowning out the computer’s identical announcement.

  She was dressed impeccably in her dress blacks and had instructed all her officers to do the same as they departed the ship. Once they disembarked, the crews on the New Sierra Platform would probably drag her over to an enclosed heavy maintenance berth so they could begin to address the hull damage. All told, the Icarus had come through another battle relatively unscathed save for a missing RDS pod. As she walked off the gangway and stepped onto the platform, she was greeted by Admiral Pitt and a handful of other officers, but no Marine guards or platform security. She took this as a good sign.

  “Welcome home, Icarus,” Pitt said loudly, walking forward and returning Celesta’s salute before offering his hand. “And congratulations on a successful, if off-script mission, Captain. We’re still reviewing the data your com drone brought back, but we’ll get to all that in debrief.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” she said. “To be perfectly honest, I half-assumed I would be arrested on sight.”

  “It was either give you a medal or arrest you,” Pitt said with a straight face. “Obviously the details of your mission have been deemed classified. We’ll discuss it later.”

  “Did the New York make it back?” Celesta asked.

  “Yes … barely,” Pitt nodded, indicating she should follow him. “She’s still being evaluated as to whether it will be easier to fix the damage or scrap her. Captain Lee did a fine job keeping the ship out of Darshik hands and his crew alive.
The damage to the ship was nothing short of shocking considering there were so few casualties aboard.”

  “That’s something at least,” Celesta said, wanting to say more but not able to as they were walking along an unsecured corridor.

  “All I can tell you is that you’re being commended for your quick thinking,” Pitt said. “We’ll debrief you tomorrow to get the missing details from you and your crew while memories are fresh, but then you’ll likely be cooling your heels for a few days. Admiral Marcum wanted to be here when we really started digging through your mission data.”

  “Where is the admiral?” Celesta asked idly.

  “Recruitment mission,” Pitt said cryptically.

  The next week went by in a blur as the bridge crew and officers of the Icarus were run through what felt like a criminal interrogation. CENTCOM and CIS plainclothes operatives would ask questions, circle back and try to trip them up, and then present any inconsistencies with the triumph of having caught them in a lie. It was exhausting and enraging, and by the fifth day Celesta had had enough. She calmly asked if she, or any of her crew, were under arrest or under investigation for anything illegal, and when the CIS representative grudgingly answered that they weren’t, she marched out.

  Once her officers learned she was refusing to play their games, they also opted out of any further hostile interrogations while ordering their subordinates to not cooperate. Celesta knew this was likely to have further ramifications as the people questioning them would surely complain to her superiors, but after all they’d been through she was more than a little offended at the treatment. Even at the height of the Phage war she couldn’t remember CENTCOM being so adversarial with Fleet personnel.