by Cameron, TR
Kate’s words resonated with forced casualness, “Hey, Jannik. I know it would’ve been unethical to do so, but I don’t suppose we saved a copy of the data we pulled from the AAN starbase before we handed it over to them? You know, just for the sake of curiosity.”
“For general edification, you mean, something like that?”
“Yes, that’s a good word. Edification. You know, to understand how other people think, or the things they’ve seen, that sort of thing?”
“Well, as you mentioned, it would be absolutely unethical, so it’s not something I would’ve ever done on purpose.” Jannik reached out and hit several buttons on the display, then pressed his thumbprint into a reader that appeared on the glass. “However, our standard practice is to hold data in a safety buffer, so it can’t get into our computer system until we’ve vetted it. I suppose it’s possible something might have lingered in there, as we don’t always remember to clear the information until we need the space again.”
Before Kate’s eyes, a complex file structure flowed across the display, one not organized in the same way their own files were. “Jannik, you, beautiful bastard.”
Dramatically offended, he said, “Such language, from such a lovely girl. It’s like you’re my own daughter.”
Kate heard him, but paid no attention, her fingers busy manipulating the system to dive into the data before her. In moments, she’d found her way into the navigational records, and then into their maps. With a tap to select and a sliding motion to indicate what she wanted, she threw up a gigantic representation of the frontier up on the walls in engineering, every one of which was a display surface. She stood and walked around the room, peering at the various images.
Jannik rose and moved to stand beside her. “What are we looking for?”
“We want to get behind them. We have a fairly good idea of where they’ll come in, at least within a few sectors. So, what we need is a wormhole that ends in a sector close enough for us to transit to the battle in time, but far enough away that it won’t be affected by those bloody tunnel drive defeaters.”
Jenna gave a small laugh. “Is that the technical term?”
“Shut up and find me a wormhole.”
Forty minutes later, the search was still in progress. Through several layers of digital refinement, they had removed most of the things on the maps that were not gravitational anomalies, and were working to differentiate the ones that remained. The wormhole drive exploited such gravitational anomalies to enable transit.
“All we need to do is find the right one,” Kate growled. “Why does it have to be so difficult to do?”
Jannik was hunched over the display table, adjusting filters to make finding their quarry easier. He looked up and said, “You know, I have a thought.”
“First time?”
“Did anyone ever tell you that you’re hilarious? No, I imagine they haven’t. Anyway, as I said, I have a thought. All of our technologies are based upon an understanding of gravity we’ve had forever. We know what it does, we know how it works, we know what frequencies to use to detect it.” He stood and stretched his back with a groan. “But these bird things use gravity in a way that’s completely different. The color display when they enter a sector suggests they’re using frequencies at the border of, and maybe beyond, those we can see.”
“So, what you’re thinking is, there may be more wormholes than we’ve seen before, but they’re hiding at a different threshold?”
“You should’ve been an engineer,” he replied, tapping commands into the system. “These maps are sufficiently detailed, and carry enough sensor data, that we might be able to run some tests to see if they are present.”
Kate frowned. “That’s all well and good, but even if we find them, do we have a chance of opening them at that new frequency?”
“Of course, we do. Luckily for us, I made the correct career choice. Unlike you.”
* * *
Four hours later, they had a plan. It involved a tunnel jump into a far sector, then required the Washington to open a wormhole at a higher frequency than they’d ever attempted before. The transit would deposit them behind the enemy where they could make an attempt on the commanders of the alien force. Fortunately, there was a universal relationship between the frequencies of portals to a single wormhole, so they were able to identify the entrance and exit to this one without too much difficulty.
The problem was, the plan would take them out of the main assault, and there was no guarantee of how long they’d spend in transit. If they went too early, they risked showing up before everyone was positioned properly. If they started too late, the battle might be over before they arrived.
“It’s risky, no doubt.” Jannik stood with his arms folded, staring at the solution that was now running through its sixth test, as if the five previous results were not definitive.
“Risky in the timing,” Kate replied, “but not in the actual technology, right?”
“Oh, the tech is fine. There are always unknowns going into an untraveled wormhole, but chances are good it will work as intended.”
“So, you’re saying it’s time to inform Cross.”
“Aye.”
“You should tell him.”
“Not I, my girl. This one is all yours.”
“Bastard.”
“Guilty.”
* * *
A short lift ride later, Kate was on the bridge, settling into the XO chair behind Cross. He swiveled toward her in response to her gesture for conversation. “We’ve got it figured out. It uses existing technology. We can share the engine tweaks with the other ships, no problem.”
His face lit up, and her stomach twisted as she followed with the bad news. “The timing is a variable. We don’t know how long we’ll be in the wormhole. We estimate, based on similar wormholes, that transit time should be less than thirty minutes. But there’s just no way to tell until we’ve tested it.”
“Could we send in a probe?” Cross’s question was logical, but one Kate and Jannik had discarded early on.
“Only at the risk of showing our cards if it arrives while the enemy is watching the sector.”
“Damn.”
“Exactly.”
“Okay, are there any other options for getting behind them?”
“None that we could figure out. I take it you all didn’t find one either?”
Cross shook his head before replying. “No. We’ve been working the problem from all angles, but there are just too many unknowns.”
“Exactly.”
“So, alright then. We know what the situation is. We know what our options are. You and Jannik should get some rest. There’s bound to be some excitement ahead.”
She nodded and stood to leave the bridge. Cross touched her arm, gentle as a feather. “Thank you, Kate. It will be enough of an edge to make a difference.”
She smiled down at him and brushed his hand. It felt like a goodbye. “Don’t let me sleep through the fireworks.”
“I’d never go into battle without you, Red.”
“Always the charmer, Ace.”
She turned for the lift and heard him issue the commands that would ready them for tunnel and wormhole transit. Soon they would again face the implacable enemy that wanted all humans, and their ship in particular, reduced to interstellar dust.
Chapter Forty-One
The Beijing just happened to be the closest ship in the patrol rotation when the color wave washed the alien ships back into real-space. Using the communication equipment he’d given to Cross, Dima sent an immediate message giving the coordinates and likely positions of the Xroeshyn forces. He knew the Washington was waiting for this word before jumping into the wormhole, so as not to arrive prematurely.
The Union had set up a sizable force in defense, twenty-two ships strong, all they had capable of using the known wormhole to retreat if needed. The rest were either being retrofitted or were occupying fallback protection positions at nearby starbases.
; His crew was quiet and calm, going about their duties in the most professional manner possible. They knew that they were operating outside the boundaries of the admiralty’s desires, but none of them showed a single concern about doing what Dima asked them to do.
He was, as always, proud of them.
“Tactical, full sector view on main screen please. Designate Union ships as allies, alien ships as enemies.” Yegorovich overrode the native preferences of the display and the colors changed before him.
Dima leaned forward as something unexpected caught his eye. “There’s only twenty-seven of them. That makes no sense.”
His executive officer looked at him with a question on her face and said, “Sir?”
Dima gritted his teeth, thinking hard, staring at the screen. “Everything we’ve seen from them is based on multiples of eight, or at worst, even numbers. It’s against precedent that they would bring twenty-seven. There’s something unaccounted for.”
He tapped his fingers on the arm of his chair and took a sip of his tea, still staring as if the display would reveal its secrets to him any second.
“Communication officer, send this information on to the Washington, DC.” He frowned. “Also, distribute to all of our ships, and just in case Cross is already in the wormhole and can’t receive it, copy the message to the lead ship of the Union fleet. I believe it’s the big one over there.”
“The Anchorage, sir. You are correct.”
He waved an acknowledgment. On the display, the forces took positions opposite one another. The enemy seemed to be taking a good long time to divide into pairs, and pairs of pairs, and to arrange themselves in response to the waiting defensive forces. Two hung back, and Dima made an educated guess that those were the command ships. “Tactical, tag those two at the rear and send to our ships. When Cross arrives, we’ll join him in the attack on the commanders, as planned.” His eyes rapidly scanned the screen, taking in every detail and strategizing.
“Weapons, ready all. Get the pilots into their fighters. Have the computer run simulations on expected moves and counters, and route them to my personal display.” He watched out of the corner of his eye as possible battle results spewed from the processors hidden deep within the core of the ship. Few turned out well for the Union and Alliance forces.
“Now we wait and watch.”
* * *
Two cups of tea later, the sector was still at rest. The alien ships had settled into pairs, with the one extra ship standing alone between the front lines and what they’d identified as the command ships. The Union had chosen a cluster defense, using four ships to support one another in five diamonds, with two singles behind in reserve. Dima wasn’t sure what the aliens were waiting for, but the tension was as thick and heavy as a slab of newsteel. Perhaps that was the point. To let fear worm its way into the defenders.
The main display twitched as his communication officer routed a message to it. The first alien they’d ever seen was on the screen again. An arrogant confidence exuded from him as he spoke.
“Demons. Defilers. Your time has come. By the grace of our gods have you been delivered to us, and by the grace of our gods’ promise, we will deliver you to the in-between, where your presence will free our ancestors to journey on to paradise. The Xroeshyn offer all of you a quick, clean death—except for one. The ship that trespassed upon our holy ground and defiled the creche of Vasoi will suffer torments unimaginable on its way to the in-between, as will anyone who stands up to defend them. They’re now the chattel of our gods. We grant you several moments in which to make peace with those that you worship, and to say farewell to those around you.” He opened his mouth to speak again, but suddenly vanished.
“Enough of that noise, I thought,” explained the communication officer. A ripple of laughter circled the bridge.
“Well said, Loh, well said.” Dima stood and inspected each station, exuding a quiet confidence that eclipsed what they’d just seen on the screen. “My friends, we have been here before. We have fought battles. We have been bloodied. We have reveled in victory. We have consoled each other in loss. Our task is clear, and we no longer fight only for our beliefs and our way of life. We also battle for the very survival of all the children of Earth. I know you’ll each do your best. Take heart knowing that not one of us will fail the other in effort, in courage, or in execution. We will prevail, or we will scratch and claw to survive and fight again.”
He sat and buckled himself into the chair. “Set highest alert throughout the ship.” Klaxons sounded, and those who were previously required to be near their stations were now required to be at their stations, strapped in and ready. Three additional officers reported to the bridge, to serve as supplements or replacements at any of the stations. Dima pointed to their chairs, and they secured themselves not a moment too soon.
On the battle display, the outermost pair of alien ships and the single ship in the second row moved, the front ones arcing outward to come at the clusters from the rear, the one in the back climbing in what projected as a long arc. The defenders didn’t move, but the largest vessel in each cluster disgorged fighters, which organized and shot out toward the aliens.
“Enemy ships are ejecting projectiles,” reported the sensor officer, highlighting them on the display. “Our sensors indicate that they’re likely the ones that prohibit tunneling into or out of the space.”
Dima nodded. It was a logical guess since there was no starbase for them to adhere to. However, he wouldn’t put it past the aliens to be using a third type of projectile that did the same thing to individual vessels. He shuddered at the thought. His desire to launch his own fighters just in case was high, but their hiding place had been chosen for a reason and he didn’t want to reveal his forces early.
Before any of the defenders could engage, the entire alien line moved, sending five ships after each cluster of four, leading with torpedoes fired from a range the humans couldn’t match. Countermeasures eliminated most of them, and daring fighter runs picked off a majority of the rest. Of those that made it through, none penetrated the focused and overlapping defenses of the cluster.
“They’re using the same tactics that the ancient Spartans did. Each ship overlaps its shields to protect the others. Apparently, our alien friends didn’t expect that,” observed the executive officer.
“Very true, Exec,” Dima said. “It works well until one falls, at which time chaos ensues. Let’s hope, we don’t get to see that.” He preferred to keep his ships on the move and only rely upon coordinated defenses when absolutely necessary.
The defenders set their clusters into rotation. The synchronization of the giant machines moving as a unit was impressive to watch. As each broadside came to bear, the ship fired then rolled in space to bring the next broadside in line. In this way, they constantly fired energy and projectiles at the incoming aliens. The alien shields deflected, redirected, or absorbed the damage without issue.
At the periphery of the battle, Dima saw a squadron of UAL fighters flying behind the solo ship, destroying the devices it was distributing throughout the sector. Unfortunately, Dima also saw other ships releasing the travel blockers.
He felt something strange in the bottom of his stomach, as if the world had lurched. Then he saw a wash of color appear behind the line of defending clusters. “Damn them to hell, that’s what they were doing!” Five alien ships appeared as the waves departed, and the solo ship adjusted its vector to join them. Within moments of their arrival, they were releasing torpedoes and energy weapons at the under-protected rear of the clusters. The defenders made the only choice they could, which Dima agreed was the right one even as he regretted the necessity of it.
The mutual defense clusters vanished as each of the members split off on a separate vector, now responsible for its own defense and significantly more vulnerable than when grouped. Dima drummed his fingers again and was silent until he saw one of the biggest vessels overwhelmed by four enemy ships working together. As it vaporized from its pos
ition upon the intersection of sixteen energy weapons, Dima saw how the battle would play out. One or two more big losses and it would turn into a rout of the Union forces.
“Communication officer, signal all our ships. We advance at 13:50.” That was two and a half minutes away, and Dima was sure that the message could be received and acted upon in that amount of time. “Tactical, designate the command ships as the targets for four of us, two each, including the Beijing.” He looked back at the screen where another Union ship was reduced to its component atoms. At least this one did significant damage to its attacker, who was now limping toward the protection of its fellows. “Send the other four after the damaged target, then split them to support each remaining cluster.”
His officers made preparations for the advance, while Dima watched the continuing battle. The Union had gathered into a strategic arrangement again, but it was defensive, their chance for offense lost with the appearance of the additional aliens. A grim smile creased his features. His forces would tilt the board in an unexpected direction.
With one minute to go, he addressed the seven other commanders in his battle group. “You are all free agents now. You have your tasks. Do them to the best of your abilities. If a better opportunity presents itself, take it. If you need to retreat and regroup, do so. It’s imperative that we strike fast, strike hard, and fade away. We will not win this war in a day, and we must conserve our resources as we can. If today is your day to embark on the final voyage, do your best to take some of the bastards with you. I’m proud of each and every one of your accomplishments as if you were my own children. I know I will be proud of you today. Petryaev out.”
When the clock reached the appointed time, eight ships streaked in from the enemy’s port side, slipping from the shadows of the asteroids they’d been anchored to, a full salvo of torpedoes from each ship leading the way into battle.
