by Tori Harris
“Should still be okay, sir, but I recommend we make the switch to unpressurized ops since decompression is still a real possibility. The section of the port stern that’s missing came within a meter or so of the hangar bay’s port bulkhead. Frankly, it’s an honest-to-God miracle we’re still here at all.”
“I’m sure you’re right, Commander,” Prescott replied, nodding to his XO to issue orders requiring personnel in and around the flight deck to begin unpressurized, zero G operations. “I was just thinking how lucky we were to be hit in that particular location.”
“It’s not just that, Captain. I’m looking at footage of the impacts from several different angles as we speak. Under normal circumstances, those antimatter explosions should have generated several times the energy required to completely destroy the ship. We’re simply not large enough to absorb that kind of damage.”
“Okay, so what happened?”
“The short answer is I have no idea, but it must have had something to do with the transition. The hyperdrive was already engaged and in the process of forming its field when we took the hits. That’s probably the only reason we were able to complete our C-Jump. Once we did, the two explosions that looked like they were about to engulf the entire aft end of the ship … disappeared.”
“What do you mean by ‘disappeared,’ Commander?”
“I’m sorry, sir. I’m afraid I don’t have a better way of describing it at the moment. When you watch it on video, you’d swear the footage of the explosions is playing in reverse once the ship transitions. My best guess is we just experienced another example of the weird hyperspace energy affinity phenomenon we saw when Industrious was destroyed.”
“I think I’ll just stick with calling it a miracle for now. Anything else?”
“Not at the moment, sir. We’re still assessing the damage, so I’ll have to keep you posted. In the meantime, we’re still combat-effective with the exception of the specific subsystems I mentioned.”
“Understood. Thank you, Commander. Prescott out.”
“You’ll want to take a look at this, sir,” Reynolds said, nodding at her touchscreen. “As Lieutenant Lau mentioned, our attack profile should not have provided enough time for any of the enemy GCS units to hit us. Here is our arrival point, and these five red ovals indicate the positions of the enemy Guardians we detected.”
“Those positions were based on ‘old light’ when we arrived, though. Right, Commander?” Prescott noted.
“Yes, but not very old. Based on the amount of time we were there, only a ship located inside the circle depicted here would have had time to detect us, fire, and actually hit us before we transitioned out.”
“So you’re thinking they have something like Argus, then,” Prescott said, phrasing his question as a statement.
“Maybe, but I’m thinking it must be something significantly more precise. Argus can detect transitions in real-time, but even that doesn’t provide data that’s accurate or fast enough to allow a ship to fire ‘in the blind,’ so to speak — before it can even see its target. In any event, this is the one that hit us,” she said, tapping her screen vindictively. “And at this range, the only way it could have pulled that off is to have fired at almost the exact moment we arrived.”
“Hmm. Isn’t it possible one of the others got lucky and transitioned right on top of us?”
“And it just happened to be along the same line of sight as this one when it fired? Extremely unlikely. If it had been that close, we probably would have detected it, even though we obviously C-Jumped out at pretty much the same time its fire arrived.”
“Recommendations?”
“Well, we sure as hell don’t want to try that again,” she replied with a nervous chuckle. “Even though our main gun was still hot on the last run, we’ll be even easier to detect now, so …”
“So we could try a longer-range attack and hope for the best. But if they’re able to detect and attack targets on such an infinitesimal time scale, I can’t imagine they would have too much trouble intercepting one of our railgun rounds traveling at only one third c.”
“Captain, I have an incoming transmission from the Ethereal,” Lieutenant Dubashi announced from the Comm/Nav console.
“On-screen, please.”
“Hello again, Captain Prescott,” Rick began as soon as the vidcon opened on the view screen. “When I advised you to improvise a bit to avoid enemy fire, I did not anticipate your approach would be quite so …”
“Imaginative?” Prescott asked.
“I was going to say so much like we would do it. I gotta hand it to you Terrans, your ability to remain nearly stationary in hyperspace was quite a surprise. We have never observed one of your ships doing so before. That particular capability is quite rare, by the way, even among civilizations that have been capable of faster than light travel for thousands of years. I guess you really did manage to wring just about every bit of tech out of our old ships, didn’t you?” Rick said in an oddly detached tone. “I wonder if you’ve begun looking into all of the possible tactical advantages associated with remaining in hyperspace while your enemy simply flashes in and out.” Here, the Grey alien paused, then quickly continued as if his observations had been of no real consequence. “In any event, you have done quite well for yourselves thus far. Miguel and I congratulate you.”
“Not quite as well as we would like, I’m afraid. Time is of the essence, Rick. What can I do for you?”
“You’re right, of course, so I’ll be brief. First, we realize you have taken some damage and thought it important to offer a bit of reassurance as to how the battle is proceeding. So at the risk of losing our commission followed by criminal prosecution, we’re going to provide you with some additional information. After that, as I mentioned before, Miguel and I must leave you.”
“I hope wherever you’re off to, you’ll be of more help there than you have been here,” Reynolds remarked, drawing a scowl of disapproval from her captain.
“Your frustration is understandable, Commander Reynolds. Believe it or not, we feel exactly the same way. But there are many ways we have helped and will continue to help your people without resorting to fighting your battles for you. For now, you’re just going to have to take my word for it when I tell you it’s better this way … for everyone involved.”
“My apologies,” Reynolds replied sheepishly. “That was unprofessional of me, but we’re all under a little stress over here right now.”
“I understand, and no apologies are necessary. Now, as to the current status of our efforts against the ALAI starbase, there are now only five —”
“Four,” Miguel interrupted in the background.
“Four enemy GCS units remaining to Griffin’s eight. Unfortunately, the tactics now being employed by the remaining enemy ships are more effective, forcing Griffin’s squadron to pull back beyond the effective range of their onboard beam weapons. Keep in mind that all Guardian spacecraft are equipped with a transponder allowing others of their kind to detect their presence within approximately ten light years. While not accurate enough for long-range targeting, it does tend to complicate the tactical situation, forcing Griffin’s squadron to utilize the same type of random transitions as the enemy to avoid being attacked. Unless you find a way to destroy the ALAI starbase itself, the battle will likely end in stalemate … at best.”
“I see,” Prescott replied. “And do you have any thoughts regarding how we should proceed?”
Rick paused, tilting his head to one side as if weighing how much more he was willing to say, then continued. “I must, of course, leave the specifics of how you employ your ship to your good judgement. I will observe, however, that although you have fired only two kinetic energy rounds at the starbase, your attacks have been remarkably effective thus far. Just as we hoped, the first took the station’s primary powerplant offline, and the second destroyed its only operational comm array.”
“That’s useful information, but —”
“But
based on how you conducted your last attack run, you did not expect the enemy Guardians to be capable of successfully targeting your ship.”
“That’s about the size of it, yes.”
“If it makes you feel any better, neither did we. It turns out one of the GCS units — and, thankfully, only one of them — has access to a targeting scanner employing technology not unlike that used in your comm beacons. If it knows approximately where your ship will transition from hyperspace, the scanner provides real-time targeting information, allowing it to fire without needing to wait for the light reflecting from your hull to reach its location.”
“Commander Reynolds suspected it was something like that. Again, we appreciate the information, Rick, but doesn’t that beg the question as to how the GCS knew approximately where we would transition?”
“I can only speculate, Captain. Before your second attack, it is possible the ALAI station itself was providing real-time transition data. I suppose it’s also possible the GCS made a ridiculously lucky guess with its targeting scanner based on your attack pattern. Either way, it’s a reasonably safe bet you won’t encounter that problem again. Miguel confirms the starbase’s comm systems are now completely offline. And as for the luck-of-the-Guardian, maybe just try to be a little less predictable, eh? That’s assuming you’re even planning to transition back into normal space, of course.”
“Uh, right,” Prescott replied, never sure exactly how to take the Grey’s comments. “Thanks, Rick, we’ll keep that in mind.”
“You’re welcome, Captain. Once again, however, I’ve said far more than I should, so I’m afraid you’re on your own from here. Good luck, my friends.”
With that, Rick’s image abruptly disappeared from the view screen window.
“Lieutenant Lau, did we ever detect the Ethereal?”
“Not this time, sir. Not a trace.”
Prescott furrowed his eyebrows but did not reply, making a mental note to have a more exhaustive sensor and comm analysis completed at the first opportunity.
“Doctor Chen just provided a casualty report,” Reynolds said, interrupting his train of thought. “Not much to speak of, really. The entire crew still reports ready for duty.”
“That’s good news, Commander. And a clear indication it’s time to get this ship back in the fight.”
“Agreed. But in spite of what Rick said, we haven’t come up with a way of doing so without the risk of taking more hits. With our LO systems offline, we’re limited to long-range hit-and-run attacks. We transition in, fire, and transition out again. Each time we do that, we’re running the risk of being picked up by ‘super Guardian’ out there and targeted again ourselves. On each run, we can only risk a single fire lance shot and maybe a few rounds from our standard railguns and beam weapons. Like you said, the enemy GCS units will probably intercept the railgun rounds. And our beam weapons … I mean, come on, we’re a small ship. We just don’t have that kind of firepower available.”
“Well, I’m not sure I’ve ever heard you offer such a bleak assessment,” Prescott said, leaning back in his chair and breathing deeply in an effort to clear his mind of distractions.
“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to sound defeatist. I’m just saying we need to think of something a bit less …”
“Predictable?” Doctor Creel chimed in. “I believe that’s what the Pale Visitor — sorry, ‘Rick’ just mentioned, was it not? And if you will permit me, I believe he might have been trying to provide you with a possible solution.”
“Yeah, I caught that too, but I wasn’t sure exactly what to make of it,” Prescott replied. “What was it he said? Something about exploring the tactical advantages of remaining in hyperspace while your enemy’s ships flash in and out?”
“That’s it, yes. Then, right before he signed off, he made another, similar comment. He said ‘assuming you are planning to transition back into normal space’ as if doing so were optional. He phrased it as an if, rather than a when, in other words,” Creel emphasized. “While I’m afraid I have no relevant experience on the subject, I have read a few accounts of the Pelaran Fleet experimenting with weapons being launched while traveling in hyperspace.”
“The word ‘experimenting’ doesn’t sound all that promising, Doctor,” Reynolds said. “Any idea of whether it worked?”
“If I remember correctly, they believed it would eventually work, but the technique was nevertheless deemed impractical for a couple of reasons. First, our warships were unable to hold their position and provide a stable weapons platform during launch. Second, and perhaps more important, was the fact that beam and kinetic energy weapons could not be targeted properly. While it’s possible for conventional weapons fire to exit the hyperdrive field and reenter normal space, the inbound transitions are chaotic and unpredictable at best. The only method they came up with to make it work was to find a way to incorporate a small hyperdrive into the weapon itself — a missile perhaps. To my knowledge, a ‘micro hyperdrive’ of this type was never produced. Unfortunately, the program roughly coincided with the beginning of GCS production, which quickly grew to absorb most of the Alliance’s research and development budget.”
Before the doctor had even finished speaking, Prescott had turned to look at his XO, arching his eyebrows to express the obvious “What do you think?” question. Without hesitation, she replied with almost exactly the same expression, further emphasized by the rapid nodding of her head — “Hell yes!” being the only possible translation.
“So, Doctor Creel, if I were to provide you with access to such a weapon, do you have a firm enough grasp of the physics involved to make it work?”
“In this case, Captain, it’s probably not as difficult as it may sound,” he replied, chuckling in spite of himself. “All that is required is to avoid having the hyperdrive field created around the weapon itself avoid coming into contact with the launch platform. Otherwise, such a weapon should function just as it normally would.”
“Commander,” Prescott began, but by this time, his XO was already on her feet.
“We’re on it, Captain. Doctor …” she said, urgently prompting their Pelaran guest to follow her to Engineering.
“I want to know if it’s going to work in fifteen minutes or less,” Prescott said.
“Aye, sir,” Reynolds replied over her shoulder as she and Creel exited the bridge.
“Lieutenant Dubashi, signal TFS Guardian to remain clear of the starbase and its escorts for now, if possible. Tell Captain Griffin to continue monitoring and relaying tactical data and report any changes immediately. Finally, let him know we are working on a means of targeting the station again without exposing our ships to hostile fire. We’ll let him know what we’re doing in fifteen minutes or so.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Fifteen minutes?” Fisher commented in a low voice to Lieutenant Lau. “Isn’t that like someone telling us we should hear from them in six months or so?”
“You’re probably right about that, Ensign,” Prescott interjected. “But wasn’t that one of the first things you learned about being in the military as an academy cadet?”
“What’s that, sir, you mean the concept of hurry up and wait?”
“Hurry up and wait. And if our friend, Captain Griffin, is serious about being a part of the Fleet, it’s a lesson that applies to him as well. I suspect you’re right, though. It may be a particularly difficult one for him to grasp.”
“Sorry about his luck, sir.”
“Hah, he’ll get over it. Although at the moment, fifteen minutes sounds like a hell of a long time to me as well.”
Chapter 18
Earth, White Sands Missile Range
(75 km northwest of Alamogordo, NM)
Atop a desolate, windswept bluff dotted with the same creosote bushes common across much of the American Southwest, a near frantic period of preparatory work was rapidly approaching its climactic conclusion. Managed by the U.S. Army since 1941 and still the largest military installation in the Unit
ed States, White Sands had already played a pivotal role in Human technological history. And assuming Humanity survived to record them as such, today’s activities would undoubtedly add to the site’s long list of achievements.
During the 1930s, Doctor Robert Goddard had tested the first generation of liquid-fueled rockets nearby (ironically, just west of a small town called Roswell). Then in 1945, another physicist named J. Robert Oppenheimer chose a location just twenty-six kilometers to the north for Humanity’s first nuclear weapon test. Oppenheimer assigned his test site a simple, one-word name: “Trinity” — allegedly an allusion to the works of poet John Donne. Today’s undertaking, while technically not a “test,” would utilize the prototype of a new class of weapons far more powerful than Doctor Oppenheimer’s “destroyer of worlds.”
With its collection of nondescript, windowless buildings connected by four parallel sets of standard-gauge railroad tracks, nothing about the Advanced Relativistic Kinetics (ARK) development facility was likely to inspire its resident physicists and engineers to wax poetic. In spite of its rather uninspired moniker, however, the facility had been the epicenter of Human kinetic energy weapons development for nearly a century before Griffin’s ETSI transmissions had begun arriving from space. As a result, technology originally developed here now equipped every warship in Terran Fleet Command’s inventory and had thus far provided a welcome, if somewhat unexpected, advantage during every combat engagement to date.
Today’s “event” at the ARK site was unique in that the facility would, for the first time, be participating in a live-fire operation against a real-world enemy target. Otherwise, it was not unlike thousands of similar launch operations performed in support of various military and scientific research programs over the years — routine. The fact that it had been done many times before, however, did not diminish the nervous energy among the unusually large crew working to prepare the facility’s most powerful weapon to fire.
Most of the engineers and “weaps techs” currently on site were from the North American division of the French aerospace and defense company, Dassault. TFC military operation or not, this was still their weapon. They had designed it, built it, tested it, successfully mounted it on an operational spacecraft, and hoped to eventually see it deployed aboard every ship in the fleet.
