All of the kinetic warhead elements that did not impact ships or satellites, impacted the surface of the small moon; obliterating the surface in an area of several hundred square miles centered on the Chzek-kin’s surface facilities. The domes disappeared behind a wall of kinetic strikes even before the impact of the nuclear warheads. When the nuclear warheads impacted, hundreds of tons of materials were blown into space from the energy of the impact. The warheads delayed their detonation for two seconds as their heavily armored casings punched two thousand feet into the moon’s surface before triggering their own Armageddon on the Chzek-kin facility. At each of the seventeen impact points the nuclear warheads detonated, a massive crater was created. The crust of the moon was made molten and crushed all solid stone for another thirty miles around the explosion into fractured rocks and powder.
Chawan Patona was a senior engineer for the Grott Collective at its ship production facility in the Shararat System; it was a partnership of hundreds of concerns for the building of spaceships for the Chzek-kin military as well as hulls the Chzek used for exporting to other Chzek-kin member races. Chawan took the job at the production facility because the small moon’s low gravity helped with the chronic pain he experienced in his lower back from an industrial accident several years before. For off-planet jobs, it was among the best as the facility had civilian dome habitats available to workers and they could bring their families to live with them. Most jobs in space required family separation for up to several years, and sometimes permanently.
Looking up at the destroyer class warship hull on the assembly cradle above him, Chawan was eager to finish his shift. Today was the forty-sixth anniversary of his bonding with Tularia and they had plans to celebrate. Mating the armored bow point to the hull of the frigate was one of the final assemblies of the hull prior to energizing the ships modular systems for final testing. This ship would be on its way back home in twenty cycles for crew assignment and he had a schedule to keep.
The sound of grinding gongs of the raid alarm startled Chawan from his divided attention between his evening plans and the matching of the two hull pieces. Strobe lighting was flashing at evenly spaced sconces along the perimeter of the assembly bay. Thinking the screeching and flashing and generally annoying alarms were just another drill to go with the hundred other drills the facility was subjected to for the last two revolutions. Chawan decided to ignore the alarm and finish the install. It would be finished quickly if they did not stop now. Otherwise, it would be another half shift before finishing if they set down the bow point and secured it to the deck as emergency response regulations required.
The announcement through the facility address system changed Chawan’s priorities, This is Facility Manager Trock. All hands report to the nearest raid bunker immediately. Incoming missiles detected. This is not a drill. The announcement ended without further information and the noise in the assembly bay changed to shouts and tromping of feet running for the entrance to the bunker for this section of the facility. Chawan could already see the bunker blast doors swinging from their recessed position into their snap-shut position so they would still allow travel in and out of the bunker while maintaining the ability to slam shut in the case of atmospheric depressurization.
The deep assembly facility was built to withstand heavy bombardment from space and Chawan was calm for the brief moment he thought about his own safety. He lost his calm when his thoughts flashed to Tularia and their children. They were in Dome Seven. There was a mandatory session on the Benefits of Chzek Civilization training this afternoon for all of the children of facility families and Tularia was there with the kids to help them understand some aspects of the training are not meant for them. Otherwise, they would be traumatized thinking they would be made to complete the Chzek custom of fighting their siblings for standing within the family group and for first placement in advanced education opportunities. Chawan did not even understand why the Chzek required such barbarism be taught to other races. Even the adults of most Chzek-kin races had a hard time understanding the violence Chzek used to establish societal hierarchy. Thankfully, the Chzek did not enforce the actual practices of what they were teaching on them.
Rushing into the shelter, Chawan looked to the monitors along the side wall of the long, narrow room. Scores of other workers were already in the room, milling about and talking to one another while keeping a close eye on the monitors.
Several monitors showed passive detection system images of the incoming missiles, with brackets around each of the detected objects. Sixty objects were bracketed by identifying markers on the passive sensor screen for several seconds until the brackets blurred and began to break into a massive distortion of objects being tracked. There were too many and the brackets were overlapping to the point they were unreadable. Why are there so many? Chawan asked himself. How can that be? Looking to the active sensor monitors, Chawan was able to see the incoming objects; missiles presumably, were still well out of active sensor range. The range was still extreme for missile detection, so it would be some time yet before active sensors would detect anything. Once they did it would only be a matter of seconds before impact.
They have time, Chawan thought, They can still make it to the shelters. Please be to the All Life. Let them reach safety.
A single streak moved out to the incoming missiles and a blinding flash caused a white-out of the screens momentarily. When it cleared the numbers of objects had increased into the thousands and were spread over a wide area.
Dread began to develop in Chawan’s mind and he clutched his head; breathing in and out rapidly as he was starting to hyperventilate. The rest of the people in the room were no better off. Several were wailing, while shouts of “How can there be so many?” rang out from others. They were all civilians and had little understanding how the warships they were building dealt death.
Increments in time swept by until blips started appearing on the active sensor screens. Over several seconds the number of blips popped up, slowly at first, with one or two plinking up over the screens per second, followed quickly by the screens becoming covered in blips. Defensive lasers flashed; seemingly doing nothing to the wall of objects. Point defense missiles were launched with massive warheads, and the screens flashed brilliantly with each detonation. Before the screens could clear, deep and distant impacts could be felt and heard through walls and floors. The ground shook and dust fell from the ceiling in the artificial gravity. Footing became treacherous as giant shockwaves began to pass through the bunker; monitors fell from the walls and fell to the deck in the reduced gravity. Chawan stared in fascination at their movement as if in a dream; the monitors were rising as much as falling and he wasn’t sure if it was the monitors impacting the deck and exploding, or the deck rising up and smashing the monitors.
The bunker doors slammed shut, but the depressurization alarm above the door retained its normal color. They would have to crack the moon to depressurize a space at this depth.
Impacts struck the moon for forty ticks before everything became quiet again. Vibrations passed through the bunker, now coming up from below as much as from any other direction, as the moonlet absorbed the energy of the attack.
Tularia! screamed Chawan as he looked to the sealed bunker doors that would become the lid on the workers’ tomb. The debris field around the asteroid and collapsed tunnels prevented efforts to rescue survivors.
Unlike Black Rock Three, the moon was not destroyed due to its much greater mass. Instead, it had a crater twelve miles deep and thirty miles wide blasted out of it and millions of tons of materials cast into space.
Chzek-kin ships in the system were left untargeted and few were able to get in position to fire on the incoming missiles. The new commander of the solar system’s defenses, besides conducting fruitless rescue operations, sent a courier to the Chzek-kin forward base eleven light years closer to enemy lines. The commander bitterly sent his message, the whole time wondering why it was their facility rather than one of the fo
rward operating bases that was attacked.
Chapter 32: Chzek-kin Forward Base, Location Unknown
Walking into the private suite, Admiral Badell approached the center of the room and waited to be addressed. He took the time to look around with his eyes. The suite was massive for a starbase in an asteroid. The walls and ceiling were all finished materials from an alien planet and the floor of the suite was made of the polished stone of the metallic asteroid they were in. It was streaked with brilliant colors of copper, red, silver, and obsidian. The admiral found it repulsive as the Chzek’s quarters were representative of their willingness to place themselves far above their tributaries. No other space on the base was finished with anything other than a thick layer of foam insulation and sealant sprayed on the walls to protect the base’s inhabitants. Looking down at the stone floor, the admiral was reminded of the amount of heating that was required to warm the uninsulated space from its natural, near absolute zero, temperature.
“What do you want, Badell?” asked the Chzek sitting at a huge workstation ringed with monitors and backed by a holographic projector.
Not wasting any time with pleasantries, the admiral answered, “Prime Commander, a courier ship from one of our ship manufacturing facilities has entered the system. They request to make a report at your convenience.”
Taking his eyes from the monitor he was working at, the Chzek narrowed his eyes at the admiral and asked him, “What is it they have to report?”
Not falling for the trap question, the admiral replied, “The courier captain has not indicated the nature of the report and awaits your leisure.” Chzek regulations required all non-routine reports to go to the Chzek commander in charge first. Failure to follow the regulation could result in the removal from command of both the reporting party and any recipient who may have received the contents of the report prior its Chzek authorized release.
Both the prime commander and the admiral knew the regulation was routinely ignored and the Chzek-kin used laser communications and stand-alone receivers to stay informed.
Silently returning the prime commander’s critical look, the admiral and Chzek played a waiting game. The prime commander to display he knew the admiral knew what was in the report, and the admiral in silent defiance. “Forward communications to my monitor,” ordered the Chzek, turning back to his monitor and waiting for the connection.
Within a few seconds a young Chzek-kin officer appeared on a holoprojector mounted in the ceiling. The bridge of the ship shown in the background behind the officer made it clear she was on an older model, four-person, courier ship.
Surprised at the Chzek appearing on her screen without notice, Lt. Carella, captain of the courier ship, quickly recovered and offered a proper salute and greeting, “Hail, Prime commander. Greetings.”
“Report,” the Chzek ordered.
Swallowing hard, the lieutenant made her report, “Prime Commander, the Grott Collective ship manufacturing facility in the Shararat System has been attacked. The facility was destroyed by a massive nuclear and kinetic strike from an unknown attacker.”
Anger instantly rising, the Chzek demanded, “What unknown attacker? Were you not able to identify the enemy ships? Was it the humans?”
Lowering her head and dropping eye contact, the lieutenant did the smartest thing she could to redirect the anger of the notoriously quick to punish by execution, alien, “Shararat System Command never detected the enemy on sensors. The enemy missiles were detected at extreme range as they broke into sub-munitions too numerous for defensive systems to destroy.”
This was the second time hearing the report for Admiral Badell from the courier ship captain and he was impressed with her ability to make the report while avoiding a hostile response from the Chzek. Their overlords were biologically inclined to not make an attack on a subordinate who exhibited submissive mannerisms, and the courier captain was able to remember her training under pressure. He was sure this was her first time dealing directly with a Chzek. Hopefully, it would not be her last.
Turning back to his workstation, the Chzek ignored the two while reviewing the data transmitted by the courier ship. The admiral and courier captain waited silently for an hour as the Chzek reviewed the data and sent a message to the Chzek-kin home system with news of the attack. Never once did he look up to give consideration to the two subordinates.
Finally completing his task, the Chzek addressed the admiral at the same time he cut off the communications link with the courier ship captain, “Admiral, you will need to review the disposition of your defensive forces to account for the enemy’s strategy. Unfortunately, there is little that can be done with your level of technology to intercept the enemy ships prior to their launching attacks from the outer system. You would be wise to triple the distance of your defensive perimeters for all installations. The only other option is to avoid detection, and it may be too late for that.” The Prime commander looked to the admiral with a skeptical eye. He did not have faith in the ability of these insignificant aliens to win this war. They were not warriors. It may be necessary to regress this Chzek-kin species to an earlier industrial age and use them solely for their manufacturing abilities. They at least know how to build a decent ship, the prime commander thought.
Admiral Badell was adept at reading the Chzek and was taken aback by the look on the face of the alien. It wasn’t a look of anger as he would have expected, nor a look of disdain. It was the same look the prime commander had when he discovered his Kekha was no longer able to fight in the arena and he needed to replace it with a younger animal; a cross between pity and disgust.
“Have your scout ships discovered any more human occupied systems, Admiral?”
“No, Prime Commander.”
Giving a grunt, the Chzek replied, “You are dismissed, Admiral.” As the admiral left the suite, the Chzek gave one final direction, “Badell, I will be transferring my command to my flagship. All future reports will be made there.”
The admiral stopped in surprise, but caught himself before turning to look back, “Yes, Prime Commander,” he said with an ominous feeling. The creature comforts of Chzek warships were non-existent and for the prime commander to transfer command there could only be because he was expecting an attack and not confident the base could survive.
Chapter 33: XSS Nautilus, Three Light Days from the Chzek-kin Home System
“Do you think they’re scrambling their fleet?” Captain Kree asked her XO. The feed from the relay drone to the sensor drone floating twelve million miles off the Chzek-kin Homeworld in the shadow of an asteroid was showing ships departing from all three of the space docks orbiting the planet.
“It looks like it. But, they’re not going anywhere.”
“Not together, but look,” Kree indicated, pointing to several different enemy ships, “These ships are accelerating away from the planet.” Turning to the sensors technicians, she asked Sensors Tech, Roberta Gold, “How many Chzek-kin ships are underway? Do we have a count?”
“Yes, Sir,” she immediately responded, “One hundred fifty-two ships have departed from the three space stations and their moon bases.”
“Do you have course tracking on them?”
“Yes, Sir. It’s not precise with just the single sensor suite on the drone, but they seem to be heading out in all directions. Most are staying within the system’s ecliptic plane.” Gold was frowning at the display, not knowing what the enemy was trying to do, “Why would they do that?” she asked.
“Not sure,” replied Captain Kree, “I don’t think it is to repel an attack, or they would be heading out in the same direction. Evacuating the planet doesn’t make sense. If they were it seems they would be heading to a limited number of destinations, but they’re going everywhere.” Looking next to her at the XO’s avatar, she asked, “What do you think, XO?”
“Could they be searching for us?” he asked.
Considering his speculation, Kree looked at the display as the Chzek-kin ships continued to sprea
d throughout their system. “Are any of them heading our way?”
“Just one, Captain,” replied Gold, “But, it’s eight degrees off a direct path.”
The crew of the Nautilus spent the last three and a half months monitoring the Chzek-kin from their current position outside the system to avoid detection. They were using a double relay of their last functioning drones; the crew was monitoring all activity in the system and this was the first time a general deployment had taken place.
“What does this do to their planetary defenses?” asked the Weapons Tech, Finn Garry, joining the conversation. He was looking over the shoulder of the sensors technicians to get a better view of the Chzek-kin deployment. It wasn’t like he couldn’t pull up his own monitor in the virtual environment, but the captain was certain he simply did not think to do so as the virtual bridge was so realistic.
She was pleased the weapons technician joined in the conversation without reservation. Kree wanted her crew fully engaged. Answering his question, she said, “We’ve identified more than one hundred forty cruisers screening the planet from high orbit. Plus whatever weapons are on the space stations and smaller orbitals we haven’t identified. We can’t be sure of moon-based defenses, but we have to assume they are there.”
Garry grimaced hearing the answer. That’s a lot of defensive firepower, he thought, Is there any chance we could get a missile through that.
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