Gaelon didn’t bother to look up from his reading. “Oh? And what kind of ship launched the attack?”
Hardaath answered, “I ran the data through our system and could not get a match. Not to a V’drellian ship, and not to any of ours. It appears to be of unknown origin.”
Gaelon looked up from his reading and smiled. “So, they won’t know who to blame? Both the Protectorate and the Terrans will assume that the V’drellians have some new type of ship. Excellent! Things are going according to plan. Go ahead and forward the sensor data to our technologists for the official review.” The data device on Gaelon’s wrist began flashing. He pressed the face of it. “Speak.”
One of his crew members began talking. “First Minister, you have an encrypted message. We can't determine its source."
"Relay it to my quarters," he replied. He walked over to the console on his desk. What looked to be random text appeared on the screen. Gaelon entered a code and the text became legible. He read the message and began smiling. "One of our agents in the Terran Fleet just reported in. It seems someone survived the V'drellian attack on the Terran ships." Everything was going according to their plan. As long as the other two complete their portions, all would soon be theirs. The will of Kamseth is about to fall on these unsuspecting fools! There will be no stopping it. He looked at Hardaath and then smirked. “And so it begins.”
CHAPTER 8
Captain Zachary Ridgeway was eager to get started. This was his first Dreadnought command, and he planned on making a name for himself. The Dauntless was the flagship of the Dreadnought line, normally a command reserved for a veteran captain. However, when you come from a wealthy family, your command academy scores are great, and your father is an admiral, things tend to go your way. He thought smugly. He had just received orders from Fleet Command that his ship, along with several others, were to participate in a war exercise simulating a V'drellian attack from the border near Sentry Command. This was just the opportunity he had been waiting on. A chance to prove that he was cut from the same cloth as his father. Perhaps, even better. He made captain at the age of 30. His father didn't make captain until 37. At the rate he was climbing the ranks, he would make Commodore before 40, setting a new fleet record. Maybe I'll be the youngest Admiral ever to be commissioned in the Commonwealth too. Then maybe Fleet Admiral someday? He would have to prove his value to the Crown for that to happen, but he couldn't achieve a goal unless he set it first.
He pressed the button on his chair arm for the ship-wide address system. “This is the Captain. We have been ordered to participate in a live fire exercise with several other Commonwealth ships. Drones have been set up at the border of the QZ simulating V’drellian ships invading. Fleet Command on Mars will be controlling the drones to test our readiness.”
The members of the bridge crew looked tense. Their captain had been at this command for less than thirty days, and now he was going to lead them in war game exercises. No one felt reassured by his leadership.
Ridgeway continued his address. "These drones have been outfitted with shielding tech comparable to what Rylan records show the V'drellians having possessed when last encountered. If a drone tags us, we will be ‘destroyed', and be out for the remainder of the exercise," he paused, "which better not happen. We are the flagship of the fleet. We are the best of the best. We are Dauntless!" He concluded his address and sounded like a kids ball club coach trying to get his team excited about an upcoming game. The bridge crew went back to their normal duties, thankful that the awkward moment was over.
“We’re at the designated coordinates, sir,” the navigation officer informed Ridgeway.
“Good,” replied Ridgeway. “Sensors, set up a long range scan. I want to know the moment any of those drones show on our sensors.”
"Captain, maybe we should launch a few probes to help broaden the scan?" The science officer suggested. "I can have a flight of four probes programmed to look for the V'drellian engine signatures in just a few minutes. All I need is permission to download the signatures from the tactical system."
"Good idea, Baxby. Do it," ordered Ridgeway. "Launch them as soon as they are ready."
He looked around the bridge, watching his crew hard at work and smiled. Time to make Daddy proud of me.
***
Once again he made his way to the Perseverance. The trip, although not difficult, was long due to the need to travel to several other locations first to throw any would be followers off the trail. He hated wearing the hooded cloak they each wore. He knew the identities of the two others he would be meeting with, just as they knew his. However, since they each brought a loyal follower with them, they had decided to wear concealment to protect their identities from any followers. A follower only knew the identity of the one that brought him or her. As he stepped on the Perseverance, he could once again smell the stale air of this ancient vessel.
The little purple man that followed him placed a hand over his mouth and nose. “How can you tolerate this stench?” the man asked.
"My dear friend," the cloaked figure replied, "that is the smell of privacy." They continued down a poorly lit corridor and stopped at a doorway close to the end. There were two other people waiting in the hall, a human and an Androsan. "Do not speak to anyone. Keep your head down, and do not make eye contact." With that final warning, the cloaked man opened the door and entered the dimly lit room beyond.
Upon entering the room, he noticed that the other two were in their places and awaiting his arrival. He began the meeting. “It appears our plan to start a war between the Commonwealth and the Dominion is progressing nicely.”
"Yes," the second cloaked male agreed. "The Protectorate processed the sensor data from our attack on the Terran patrol ship, but could not determine the ship type. They will tell the Terrans they believe it to be a new kind of V'drellian warship."
The cloaked female spoke next. “Excellent. The survivor told the Queen that it was all a V’drellian attack. Their queen has ordered combat exercises near their border with the QZ. This will afford us the perfect opportunity to bring the Protectorate to bear against the Commonwealth.”
“We still must be cautious,” the first figure reminded. “One of my agents reported a 'Death’s Hand' on the V’drellian ship that countered the Terran initial invasion.”
The female figure nodded. “I can confirm that. His presence made facilitating the survivor’s escape more difficult. His arrival at this time cannot be a coincidence.”
“Should we wait before bringing the Rylans in play?” the second male figure asked. “Perhaps we should wait and see what plays out between the Commonwealth and Dominion first. If we get too many pieces moving at the same time we could lose control.”
The first figure shook his head. This was not a time for fear, but a time to aggressively conquer the enemy. “No. We go forward as planned. The time of empires is at an end. Now begins our time, the era of the Legion!”
***
It had only been a few hours since the training exercise had started. The bridge crew of the Dauntless was still on edge, waiting for the first sign of a drone. For Ridgeway, the anticipation was agony. He was ready to prove to his father, and everyone else, that he was the best captain in the entire Commonwealth. He had hoped that the initial wave of drones would have launched almost immediately after the exercise started. He noticed his First Officer was looking down looking down at his hand. He was drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair. Am I really that nervous? He stopped the drumming and placed his hands on his lap. He needed coffee. Not that freeze-dried swill that they stock onboard fleet ships, but real coffee made from real beans that were ground fresh just before brewing. I’d kill for a good cup of coffee from that bakery that’s just down the road from Fleet Command. He sighed, stood up, and decided that he would go get a cup of swill.
“Captain! We’re picking up a ship. It’s matching the V’drellian engine signature we have on record!” shouted the sensor officer.
I
t's about time. Ridgeway thought. “Navigation, move to intercept. Weapons, lock on to target, and prepare to fire at that ship!”
“Captain, sir,” the sensor officer tried to explain, “it’s not moving in any attack pattern I’ve ever seen. In fact, it’s on a course that takes it away from us, and it’s traveling at a normal rate of speed, not an attack velocity.”
The bridge crew all looked at Ridgeway, waiting to see what he would do. He felt like they were questioning his judgment, and as long as he outranked them they didn’t get to do that. He turned to his weapons officer, who had not yet locked target. “Sensors, I don't want to hear another word of your opinion. I made the decisions here. Weapons, you have your orders! Lock on to the target and prepare to fire!” He was not going to let some decoy maneuver cost him his victory just because it seemed odd to one of his subordinates. He was the captain and he gave the orders. He decided that as soon as they returned to port, he was going to request a new sensor officer. He was going to be listed in the history of the Commonwealth as the greatest officer the Fleet had ever produced, and if he had to destroy the careers of a few junior officers that got in his way, then so be it.
***
The Rylan Starburst was a civilian transport full of vacationers from the Protectorate on route back home from the Traetelas Colony on the far side of Terran space. Traetelas was a popular vacation spot due to its proximity to the Parnax Nebula, which could be seen brightly in the night sky. It was traveling close to the Terran border with the Quarantine Zone, a little bit out of the normal travel lanes, but not uncommon for Rylan ships returning from Traetelas. The crew was used to these long voyages, and the work was fairly monotonous. No one even noticed the slight thud sound when an object attached itself to the ship's outer aft hull. So, when the bridge alarm went off it caused quite a panic.
"Captain," shouted the helmsman, "we're picking up a Terran Dreadnought and is moving to intercept us! It's powering up its weapon systems!"
"What?" the Captain replied in shock. "Open a communication signal to their ship, now!" Why would the Terrans attack us? The Captain didn't have time to wonder anymore about the reasons behind the Terran actions. Right now he had a ship to try and save.
"They aren't responding, sir," the comms officer reported.
"Give me a broadcast signal," order the captain. "Terran Dreadnought, this is the Rylan Starburst. We are a vessel of the Rylan Protectorate and have the authorization to travel in Terran space. Please stand down! We are a civilian passenger ship! Please acknowledge!"
The comms officer shook his head. "No response, Captain!"
"Keep repeating the message, and open a line back to Rylos!" The captain instructed the comms officer. "Let them know what is going on!"
"I can't, sir," comms replied, "something seems to be disrupting our signal!"
"Captain, the Terran ship has taken up an attack position!" the helmsman exclaimed.
***
Every muscle in Ridgeway's body was tense. This would be his first actual combat situation outside the simulator.
The weapons officer pressed several buttons on his console. “Weapons are locked, Captain.”
"Captain, please don't do this," begged the sensor officer. "This doesn't seem right."
"Ridgeway snapped at him. "You're relieved of duty! Get this man off my bridge!" A security officer took the sensor officer by the arm and escorted him off the bridge. "Does anyone else want to challenge my decision?" Ridgeway angrily faced his bridge crew. "If not, then get ready to blow this piece of crap out of existence!" He turned to his weapons officer. "Fire!"
The weapons officer pressed a button, and there was a minor shock-wave sent throughout the ship. Whenever the ship's proton cannon fired, the compression wave rippled from the cannon port on the bow to all the way to the stern.
"Direct hit, sir," the comms officer was now doubling as the sensor officer as well. "Sounds of hull breaching and engine core rupture. She's destroyed!"
"Good job, everyone!" Ridgeway congratulated his crew. "Excellent work." He smiled knowing that scoring the first confirmed 'kill' in an exercise of this nature always looked good on your command record.
"Captain," the comms officer interrupted. "Something is not right. We stopped picking up the drone's fake V'drellian engine signal when the drone was destroyed, but now we're picking up a Rylan emergency beacon at the location of the destroyed drone."
"How is that possible?" Ridgeway asked. His smile quickly faded. "I don't understand how this is part of the exercise. Can we identify the ship from the beacon signal?"
"Working on now, sir," replied the comms officer. "According to the list of Protectorate ships we have on file, that beacon signal belongs to the Rylan Starburst, a large passenger transport ship. According to its last flight plan, it was leaving Traetelas Colony with a full manifest of passengers returning to Rylos."
"Traetelas," Ridgeway thought aloud, "that's halfway across Terran space. Nowhere close to here."
"Except that it left Traetelas a week ago," the navigation officer interjected, "which if it followed the course and speed that most Rylan captains follow through our space, it would put it right here, right now."
"Launch a Lancer to find the source of that signal," Ridgeway ordered.
A few minutes later, a Lancer emerged from the forward launch bay. It set a course directly for the position of the beacon's signal. Before getting to the indicated position, the pilot already knew what happened. "Dauntless, this is Bluebird Four, there is a ton of debris out here. This wasn't a drone. Way too much wreckage," the pilot paused, "and some of it is organic in nature. Returning to ship."
All of the excitement and adrenaline that Ridgeway felt just moments had ago vanished, and now he felt like someone had just sucker punched him. "Comms, radio it in. Weapons, dispatch a marker buoy so the salvage crews can find it. I'll be in my quarters. I don't want to be disturbed." Then he walked off the bridge. Before he was planning his ascension to greatness, now he just hoped he didn't receive a court-martial.
***
For Dale Hawthorne, it seemed like the week just couldn't get any worse with every report he read. Somehow word of the V'drellian attack had leaked out. The mainstream media wasn't picking up on it, but the conspiracy theorist groups were running wild with it. Now on top of everything else that was going wrong, one of their warships accidentally destroyed a Rylan passenger transport. He was getting weary of making the walk from Fleet Command to the Queen's throne room with bad news. The guards on duty open the doors to the throne room for him to enter. The Queen was on her throne reading reports as he approached the dais. He was reluctant to tell her what the report in his hand said. He wanted to spare her the sleepless nights that this information would bring. After all, she had so much that already weighed on her mind with the loss of the Expedition and Valkyrie Squadron. Yet, his duties as Fleet Admiral required that he be the bearer of such matters. He stopped in front of her and offered a bow. As she looked up from her reading, he could see the dark circles that were forming under her eyes. I'm sorry Connie. He hated to see the toll the past few days were taking on her, and he was about to add more to the list. "Your Majesty," he said, "one of our Dreadnoughts just destroyed a Rylan passenger ship. No reports of survivors."
The Queen was noticeably shocked. “Are you serious? Why?”
“The captain said that their sensors showed it has V’drellian," Hawthorne explained, "and they fired on it thinking it was one of the training drones." Hawthorne looked at the report in his hand. "However, as soon as the ship was destroyed they picked up an emergency beacon signal, and it was a Rylan ship. The emergency beacon was matched to the Rylan Starburst, a passenger transport filled with tourists from Rylos visiting Traetelas to view the Parnax Nebula. They were on their return voyage."
I don't understand," the Queen said shaking her head. “Surely, the Rylan ship’s system would have warned them of the weapons lock? Why didn’t they make contact with our ship?”
"I have no idea, Your Majesty," Hawthorne replied. "Our ship said they did not receive any communications from the ship before they fired at it.”
Queen Constance sighed. "Do the Rylans know yet?”
“If not, soon enough," he answered. "I'm certain someone is going to notice that a passenger ship didn't check in on schedule. I don't need to tell you that this is going to put a real strain on our relationship with the Rylans. At the very least we are in violation of our treaty with the Protectorate. Worst case, they take it as an act of war.”
"Admiral, undertaking a war with the V'drell Dominion is going to be bad enough," the Queen stated. "We can't afford to fight a war with the Rylan Protectorate at the same time. Cooperate with any investigation they might undertake. I will reach out to Prime Minister Hobarth. Hopefully, I can speak to him before he hears about it from another source."
Hawthorne nodded. “I understand, Your Majesty. I’ll handle it personally. I’ll also cancel all leave immediately, and have all personnel return to their stations until further notice." He bowed and started to walk away, but then stopped. He turned to face her again. "Is there anything else I can do for you, Connie?"
The Queen gave him a tired glance. “Yes, Uncle Dale. Pray that the Commonwealth survives this.”
CHAPTER 9
Prime Minister Hobarth sat at his desk looking over several intelligence briefings. The events of the past few days were weighing heavy on the leader of the Protectorate. Relations with the Terran Commonwealth had been pleasant since their first encounter with the inhabitants of that distant world. Most of his citizens viewed the Terrans as a nation of uncivilized frontier folk, living off whatever their planets provided them like packs of scavenger animals. Although not as technologically or culturally advanced as the Protectorate, they had always been a peaceful people, allowing the Protectorate virtually unfettered civilian travel through their territorial space. Trade with the Terrans had been beneficial as well, as several their planets had raw materials not found, or found in very limited quantities, on Protectorate worlds. He had been completed caught off guard when Queen Constance of the Commonwealth had called him personally earlier in the day. When she explained the nature of her call, he was shocked. They spoke very briefly about the destruction of the Rylan Starburst, and she offered her condolences. He had demanded that they meet the next day, and discuss matters face to face to go over the situation and launch an investigation into the matter.
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