“I’d like you to try to hit any damned one of them. I want to see if you’re more successful than we were.” That sounded more cryptic than it did a challenge to shoot straighter.
“OK.”
Condor aimed a sensor at a mining site, obtained the precise coordinates and fed them to the AI, which used the two gravity projectors to generate a small black hole located roughly halfway towards the moon’s surface.
He used a joy stick to alter the focal point of the black hole to send the foot-wide event horizon hurtling towards the spot on the surface where he’d placed the reticle of his targeting system. He could have done that via mental Comtap control, but he chose the manual method.
The pip on his system, which represented the black hole “projectile’s” position, abruptly blinked off just prior to arrival, and nothing happened to the mining site. Frowning, Condor repeated his commands using his Comtap to instruct the AI to form another black hole, and he directed its movement at the same spot, with the same result. The pip representing the black hole vanished.
Hickok grunted. “Well, that proves it wasn’t something me or Janice did wrong, and it isn’t our projectors. We couldn’t hit anything on the surface either. This is as new a weapon to me as it is to you. Any idea of what’s going wrong? Are they rotating into Tachyon Space?”
“Let me check something Wild Bill.” Playing back what his suit’s AI recorded of the black hole’s track, he paused the playback at the instant the target pip vanished. He mentally commanded the visor’s spectrum analyzer towards much higher frequencies. To gamma ray levels, in fact. There had been an unseen flash recorded by his visor.
“Damn. They didn’t rotate into tachyon space before we sent that command. I think the event horizons evaporated. There was a small gamma ray flash, which we naturally couldn’t see if not looking for that. Let me try a four-foot-wide event horizon, instead of the smaller one.”
That gamma flash was brighter, but it occurred over a half mile above the surface. He formed another one that was the width of the end of his little finger. From their height of fifty miles, he needed the ship’s more sensitive sensors to detect the miniscule gamma ray burst, which occurred only a few hundred feet above the surface.
“I’ll be damned. The holes are evaporating before they reach the surface. The larger they are, the earlier they vanish. I don’t know about your team, but the only black hole target practice my crew took with our new Scouts was on the small clanship debris still in low orbits over New West Africa. The nonmagnetic stuff left behind from the fleet battles, which the orbital rail guns can’t collect. We were ordered not to shoot at targets on the planet or moon, for fear our black holes might not enter Tachyon Space when we ordered the rotations. I don’t think we can shoot down into stronger gravity wells.”
Hickok offered a counter argument. “Well, after we tried black holes to do the damage, we fired some of our gravity rods at designated targets on that same moon. They all hit.”
Condor thought for a moment. “Sounds right. Before we discovered black holes were the better projectiles, we used our event horizons to steer and accelerate the rods, by gravitational attraction, towards the target we wanted to hit. We always rotated the holes into Tachyon Space well before impact, like we were instructed to do to avoid a gamma flash of evaporation.
“What if we’d simply opened the Trap fields that were holding the tachyon energy to form the event horizons, instead of rotating them into Tachyon Space? We’d see a gamma ray burst. Gamma rays don’t happen when we rotate into Tachyon Space, only when we return to Normal Space and let the black holes evaporate. At least we spewed the radiation until these new T-cubed ships were designed to delay their second rotation to Normal Space, to allow time to for the event horizon of the first rotation to swallow the gamma rays.”
“I get your meaning. Our Trap fields are releasing their energy, causing that burst before our holes can reach the surface. That sounds kind of like the problem our old model ships had in trying to form a Trap field on a planet for a Jump. How are Scouts able to depart from a planet’s gravity well if that’s the case?”
“We do that at T-cubed level, with ultra-high-energy tachyons, and the Trap fields form the event horizon virtually against our hulls with millions of tiny embedded antennas, not projected many miles away, like we’re doing here. The gravitational force drops off quickly with the square of the distance from the Trap antennas being used. When four times farther away, it’s only 1/16th as strong. We need to report this limitation when we get back, but for now, we’ll use the gravity rod magazines we have in storage, and hit the targets on the moon that way.”
The PU Scout report eventually made it back to Koban. But they weren’t the only observers, and the Thandol also sent ships to investigate the aborted attack at Rogue 1. Nothing stays secret indefinitely.
****
Delthab Trindal, the Thandol Military High Commander, personally led the squadron that investigated what happened at Rogue 1, and at the new Fleet Staging area for Security Sector one. “We can be grateful our Decoherence bombs were not perfectly effective this time. We have salvaged valuable technology, and even if the destruction of the new base is a terrible loss, that too has revealed clues to enemy technology, and more importantly, to some of its limitations. I will urge the Emperor to order a full scale scientific mobilization to study what we have learned and collected.”
He softly trumpeted his trunks in a pensive manner, concern reflected in the notes. “That is, if the Emperor’s current mysterious illness permits him to think rationally. He has quarantined himself from any direct outside contact. His closest advisors say it is out of concern for the safety of others, but those advisors also are experiencing signs of physical distress, and yet they are speaking to those outside the Imperial Palace. The most prominent physicians on Wendal have been called to the Palace. I think the Emperor is concerned that his life is at risk, and is maintaining his isolation for that reason.”
A loyal subordinate shifted uncomfortably, before bugling softly, to avoid being overheard by other nearby noble officers. “Sire, I have heard from a third cousin of mine, who manages one of the gardens of the Imperial Forest on Wendal. There have been solicitations for applications to work in the Palace gardens. It is interesting”
Matching the soft tone, Trindal asked, “Why is that of interest? Only the oldest and most experienced gardeners are selected. I’ve see them many times when I’ve grazed with the Emperor. They live there until old age takes them, honored in their privileged positions.”
“My cousin says he is happy he is not old enough to apply now. There are openings for ten gardeners, of the sixteen usually assigned. He said there are normally only one or two solicitations in several orbits. Ten at once suggests an unusual number of deaths among palace gardeners. They may have succumbed to whatever aliment has stricken the Emperor, and they are old. But they receive excellent health care, and the best of foods, since they dine regularly on sugar spears. Ten gardeners replaced at once suggests some sort of purge, and my cousin says the relatives of those presently serving in the Palace have not heard from their elder herd members, and have been unable to contact them.”
Trindal, having lived through previous palace intrigues, thought it best to avoid the problem. “I will be sure to make my report indirectly, or send it with an aide. Not you of course.”
“Thank you, Sire.”
“Do you have the summary report prepared, from our interrogation of Gimtal Thond? That must accompany the report of our ambush of the raiders at Rogue 1, and their subsequent destruction of this base. These attacks seem to be related to the Federation’s defense of what Thond claims is a human world that is not part of the Federation.”
“I do, Sire. It is in this file.” He transmitted a document to his superior’s memcache.
“I’m skeptical of Thond’s assessment, Sire. That this alleged independent planet of Tanner’s is said to be loosely affiliated with an entirely u
nknown, and human based government called the Planetary Union, which is separate from the Galactic Federation. Could that be his attempt to obfuscate or cover up the Ragnar failure to successfully invade that human world? Our surprise inspection at Tantor is the only reason we discovered the recent activity of their fleet, and the damage and losses they had apparently suffered. He admitted the attack they attempted, but only after he was recalledto face the High Command’s questioning.”
Trindal was less inclined to doubt every assertion Thond had made. “He claims he was unaware the human planet was the intended target of the fleet we were gathering at Rogue 2. How could he know? We kept that discovery a secret, and the fleet we were gathering at a secret base wasn’t even in the Ragnar Security Sector. Like us, they assumed it was a Federation planet, until forced to withdraw their fleet and ground forces.”
He wiggled his trunks and tentacles, indicating reluctant acceptance of another claim by Thond. “His claim that the Federation had ships with far superior stealth than ours, and a class of ships that can Jump directly into a gravity well and an atmosphere, seems validated now.
“Except, how did the Ragnar fleet defend against the black holes we faced, or the ultra-high velocity projectiles? Those are gravity controlled weapons, and seem frighteningly related to the Olt’kitapi planet destroying capability. Evidently, the Federation captured some of that technology from the Krall.”
“Sire, it’s obvious the Ragnar couldn’t have been attacked by the weapons used here, as we were. Otherwise, their fleet would not have escaped largely intact. Unless they fled very early in the counter attack.”
“The Ragnar are forced to do as we order them to do, but I refuse to believe they would have fled like rodents against the humans on first contact in a fight. For some reason, the humans didn’t use the same weapons against them. They are proving to be a perplexing species to fight. Their attacks range from small sneak attacks, using old Krall ships with improved technology, and then flee. Next, we experience all out destruction, with advanced ships and weapons. Who are these humans that call themselves Kobani, that Thond says have forced him to withdraw from two space battles?”
“What will you do with him Sire? Will you recommend his execution to the Emperor, as half of the members of the High Command voted?”
“Not now. His improbable stories have proven to be partly true, and we will need our three security forces to absorb the initial losses of fighting the Federation, and that mysterious Planetary Union, if it exists. After we complete this investigation and return to Wendal, I will send Thond home, to mount the attack the Emperor ordered. He will do that better than his Ground Force Commander, who he left in charge of their military when we recalled him.”
****
Mirikami felt a mixture of satisfaction, dismay, and worry. He was sharing with MacDougal and Maggi what Nabarone and Mauss had reported to him, about the PU’s first foray against the Empire.
“President Strickland showed her political backbone, sending twenty of her fifty new Scouts into Empire territory, to attack the hidden base in Sector one. Unfortunately, she didn’t send an advanced Scout probe, to verify if the coordinates we furnished were accurate, and what was there. The lurking Thandol squadron and the empty base would have been detected safely, using just a few Scouts. Although, I doubt the president was directly involved with mission planning. This appears to show a bit of over eagerness to get involved.
“The twenty scouts weren’t led by people with experience infiltrating that deep into the Empire, because we’re the only ones to have done that. I suspect it was pride that led them to bypass consulting with us on our experiences, thinking that sending an all Kobani force was adequate. Their Kobani abilities did pull their bacon out of the fire, but our prior experience could have helped them avoid the fire. We paid our dues at Meglor. They should have arrived with their Scouts more widely dispersed, using a staggered arrival, to reduce the chance of detection via their combined masses.
“Even so, after losing over half their force, they did a Hell of a job driving off the ambushers, and then smartly followed the Thandol squadron to the new base. They did more damage to the Thandol navy than we did at Rogue 2. They let damn few ships escape with their rapid control of small black holes. No need to fire one gravity rod at a time, nursing it along with acceleration and guidance, for a single strike, or steering a crusher at parked ships. There were no parked ships or Crushers at the new base anyway.
“They simply plunged one black hole through multiple ships and docks, and then brought it back for another pass. Big holes swallowed whole ships, but can’t act as fast. Either way, they were very destructive, and you won’t run out of ammunition.”
Maggi, who knew Tet’s mannerisms well, asked, “What’s bothering you though. You praised their actions, but your expression tells me something’s got you concerned.”
“It was their inability to take out targets on the surface of that large moon, without use of the slower and less effective gravity rods. This was almost an afterthought, near the end of the report. I’ve put in a call to Max Born, who was in a technical meeting and had disabled all outside Comtap links. I asked the Xenos city AI to monitor when Max is available, and to give him my message. I think we need to know why the Scouts couldn’t send black holes down to the surface of an airless moon. Dismantlers, the Mark II class ship, and Scouts, all can form black holes deep in gravity wells, and Jump from planets or moons, and we can Jump deep into those wells, to land.”
MacDougal saw what bothered him. “Yet, we couldn’t send a small, weaponized black hole there, to attack enemy targets. Yes. I can see why that concerns you. It’s a limitation on our newest weapon.”
“It goes deeper than that for me, Stewart, and I have questions, which could involve Dismantlers having the answers. Unfortunately, I will not risk offending them, or the Olt’kitapi, by asking them for information on this subject again. They never wanted anyone to have their gravity manipulation technology, because the Krall proved it could prove to be more valuable as a weapon to an unscrupulous species, than a tool to build a great civilization. I think we need to fully understand both sides of this double-edged sword. I’ll wait until Max is available to talk to me, but I sense a serious issue.” He was pulling at his lower lip, a sure sign he was looking for a solution to a future problem.
Chapter 3: Ragnar Team
“How diplomatic do we have to be with those hairy assholes?” Sarge wanted to know. “Thond didn’t keep his word to tell the Thandol to back off the worlds in Human Space.”
He had been griping the entire three days of the trip, and wasn’t slowing down.
“From the Hothor spies on Wendal, we know the Ragnar accepted a High Command assignment to attack some Federation colony world, perhaps the Prada, who knows? Those busy little fur balls are building like crazy. Don’t get me wrong, I like them, and if it were up to me I’d gladly give them these Scouts to defend themselves. Unfortunately, the Prada can’t fight worth shit, and they only have us to protect them. It may not be them, but I guess we’ll find out. Before last week we didn’t know the Empire had any idea where other colonies were located. There have obviously been some sneaky scout missions into Federation Space that we never even detected. We need more of those PU patrol boats to turn into remote monitors, because they’re going around the ones we put on our border.”
Thad, and the other eight team members had grown tired of hearing his gripes, since there was too little room on the Scout to find much privacy, other than the toilet. That small “library” had been kept busy, becoming a fortress of solitude.
One of the four teammates playing cards, Macy Gundarfem, was tired of hearing the repetitious string of complaints. “Sarge, give it a frigging rest. You’ve come up with different sets of things to bitch about every damn day. The lazy Hothor, the arrogant Thandol, the timid Prada, the lying Ragnar, the fact that you didn’t get to lead the team visiting the Finth, or that we should have the use of one or t
wo MARK II class ships with real mess halls.
“You know we’d have to spend months at level one speed to avoid detection in a Mark II. That length of time would guarantee we’d arrive understrength, with one unfortunate airlock accident to report, about the lone casualty of the mission.” She glanced at him, then at the airlock.
John Yin-Lee, another of the four poker players, offered him a wicked looking smile, as support for Gundarfem’s not so subtle hint.
Mel Rigson, also a player, said, “Pipe the Hell down Sarge. We all conspired by Comtap to win your credits, and then refused to loan you more, just to keep you out of the games so we could rest our ears.”
“I knew it!” he crowed. “You told me I was a sore loser, a crappy poker player, and the cards just didn’t come my way.”
He looked to Greeves, the mission leader, for support. “Thad, you heard that admission. They cheated me. What are you going to do, boss man?”
Shrugging, he said, “I’ll give you back half your credits when we get home.”
“Huh? Only half? Wait, how do you know how much I even lost?”
“It was my idea, just like the time we took those kids on the Krall resettlement runs. You bilked them out of their poker money on that trip, you jackass. I kept track this time, and the others handed over what they won from you after the games ended each night, until you went broke. I’m not returning the pair of socks you called with on your final hand. They were worthless, and you lied about them being fresh and new. I recycled them. The half of your credits I’m not returning will buy rhinolo steak dinners, just for the eight of them when we get back, and you won’t be invited. Go be a jerk on your own time, while they have a congenial and peaceful meal at your expense. You owe them that.”
Koban: When Empires Collide Page 5
