A Faded Star

by Michael Freeport

  Admiral Blackwood spoke for the first time since the meeting began. “This appears to be a very advanced piece of manufacturing technology. Could you give us an example of how fast it can produce ships? Perhaps something like Rampart.”

  “I anticipated that request, Admiral,” Kri said, tapping at his tablet. The screens changed to show a side view of Aeternum with a row of red zeros under it. “The number at the bottom is days, hours and minutes.” After a moment, the simulation began to run, a ship smoothly appearing in the center of the Aeternum and gliding forward as sections were completed. The simulation had the quality to it that one experiences when watching a plant grow in time lapse on a nature documentary. The simulation took about two minutes to run.

  Vesper said, “I- Commander, you said that's days, minutes and hours?”

  “I did, Admiral.”

  Stunned silence dominated the room for several seconds. The counter said three days, five hours and one minute.

  “Rampart took us the better part of six months to construct. I find the speed at which a ship of her class can be assembled by Aeternum to be somewhat... unbelievable,” Blackwood said. Her voice was nearly an octave higher than usual, and her face was set in a tight expression of disbelief.

  “I found it difficult to accept as well, Admiral,” Kri said. “The ship works on a different manufacturing principle than we're used to. If you will allow me to give you an example?” When the admiral nodded, he continued, “When we assemble a ship, we follow standard building procedures. A keel is laid, the hull struts and joined, hull plating is attached, deck mounts, decks and so on. The Aeternum simply starts at the front and places every material, every molecule in place and continues the process one layer of molecules at a time until the ship is complete. The superstructure is built at the same time as furnishings, electrical systems, weapons emplacements and so on. The whole process is managed by an incredibly powerful and complex computer, located in pod zero.

  “We understand the ship is also capable of producing orbital structures and structures to be landed on the surface of other planets. The manufacturing database contains patterns for a rather shocking array of objects as small as a crate of hand weapons up to fifty kilometer long orbital facilities.”

  Coffee said, “Do these patterns include the technology behind the construction of the manufacturing ship itself?”

  “They do, sir.”

  “We will need to capitalize on the technology as soon as possible. Our entire manufacturing base could be revolutionized by this technology.”

  Vesper said, “I agree, sir. Mister Kri, are you confident of your ability to program the manufacturing computer?”

  “The interface is both intuitive and adaptive, sir. As we work with it, it learns how we expect information to be presented and increases its usability.”

  Stokes said, “If I may, might I suggest we create a facility to interface with our existing space docks to manufacture ships and stations as needed?”

  “A good suggestion, commodore,” Blackwood responded. “Retrofitting the space dock is important.”

  “It's far more important than you know, admirals,” Stokes said. “There is one more piece of information we came across aboard the Aeternum. We learned the alien alliance we've entered into a non-aggression treaty and mutual defense pact with against the crabs with is responsible for our being on Lashmere. At a point five thousand years ago, humanity and the alliance were at war.” Shocked expressions appeared on all three admiral's faces. “It gets worse. The alliance developed a super virus designed to kill every human being in existence. The Aeternum has records of our mission to colonize Lashmere. It was left behind in order to provide us a fighting chance against the alliance once we rediscovered it.”

  Coffee said, “I think we had better get the expeditionary force back here as soon as possible. Admiral Vesper, take command of the Aeternum. I know Admiral Blackwood is in charge of the space dock. Coordinate with her in designing a series of manufacturing rings to be retrofitted into the infrastructure of the space dock. With the speed this technology can fabricate a ship, don't worry about using the whole space dock. Limit yourselves to something like twenty-five retrofitted slips and then move on to designing a way to upgrade our surface based manufacturing.

  “Miss Simmons, I'm promoting you to the rank of Lieutenant Commander. Sorry, there is no time for a ceremony as time now appears to be of the essence. I want you to report to Admiral Blackwood and begin the development effort for a fleet of defensive vessels and installations for the Lashmere system. I want your first priority to be setting up the best long range sensor network the Aeternum is capable of producing. The more information we can gather, the better.

  “Admiral Blackwood, while the Aeternum is producing our sensor system, I want you to have your engineering teams work up a retrofitting scheme for the space dock. Once you have a plan worked up, send it to my office for final approval.

  “Commodore Stokes, you will be dispatched to the alliance forward base where our expeditionary force was to be stationed. Once you get there, find a way to bring them back. It's far too great a risk to leave them there. If Drogue finds out about the alliance's history, and knowing Drogue, he probably already has, he won't hesitate to protect the people under his command. Despite his excellence as a wartime commander, I'm worried he may take a rash action.”

  Coffee looked around the room for a moment longer and then said, “Thank you for the briefing, everyone. Mister Kri, your summary report was excellent. I will be watching your career as we go forward. Are there any questions for how we are to proceed?”

  Vesper said, “Sir, are you expecting any resistance from the senate regarding your prioritization of how the Aeternum is to be used?”

  “I don't think so. I'll brief the secretary of war and the president when I get back to the capital. Once they understand the moving pieces, I'm hoping they can keep the senate in line.”

  The senate was the ruling body of Lashmere that had been formed at the end of the Karn-Ebrim war. The people who served on the senate were appointed from among regional elected officials The senate was represented by population, and so the former Karn regions had more effective political power in the senate than the president. The president had the final say in most matters, either by invoking the presidential veto or by using the planetary financial committee, who was mostly former Ebrim. The old battle lines were alive and well in the halls of political power, but it was a mostly bloodless battle now. The system had arrived at the hallmark of most good governments: gridlock. Massive amounts of time and effort were expended on glacial changes in the system that had been put in place at the end of the war. It was so recent that there was effectively no measurable change.

  Seeing there were no other questions, Coffee said, “Very well, then. Everyone is dismissed.”

  The officers began getting up and shuffling around, breaking into smaller conversations. Simmons went towards Admiral Blackwood, while Stokes made his way to Admiral Vesper.

  “Admiral, congratulations on your new command.”

  “Thank you, Commodore. I expect it's a temporary measure. I still can't take my hand completely off of logistics command.”

  “Surely your exec can handle material and personnel management for a few weeks until a more permanent solution is in place.”

  “Of course he can, Franklin. My worry is if I'm gone too long, he'll decide he doesn't need me at all.” Vesper grinned at his own wit.

  “I've often felt the same about my executive officers. Mister Kri is shaping up nicely. He should be ready for an independent command in another year or so.”

  “That's good to hear. I hope we have that much time.”

  “Admiral Coffee was certainly right about one thing. Having an effective long range sensor system in place will give us a lot better ability to make decisions.”

  “Indeed.” Vesper looked around for a moment before turning back to Stokes. “How did Simmons work out?”

>   “Well, sir, I have a full brief ready for you, but she seems to have the potential to be a good officer. I think the fact she's had custom assignments created for her since she put on the uniform has really hamstrung her growth in leadership and command ability. I had to step on her pretty hard a couple of times while we were on our way out to Buckman's Star. She did show some promise. Right before we got onto the Aeternum, she actually stood up for herself. Properly, too. She grabbed one of my own lines and turned it back on me. Showed a lot more insight than I'd given her credit for. I hope we can get her away from R&D for long enough to get her into leadership school and polish her career up.”

  “I do, too, Commodore. We may need more strong scientific officers in positions of leadership than we originally thought. That's presuming we're able to defend ourselves against the crabs and the alliance, both.”

  “There was another concern I had, but I didn't want to bring it up in front of everyone.”

  “What is it?”

  “What if that virus is still out there, sir? I mean, the people who brought us here took great pains to ensure we weren't infected and that we'd be left alone to develop. What if that virus was given the ability to survive indefinitely?”

  “It's a frightening question, Franklin. I'll make it a priority to get the information from the Aeternum and have it sent over to the medical corps for research. If we ever do encounter that virus either from the last time or if the alliance decided to unleash it against us again, we should be ready for it if at all possible.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Patho and Kri sat in a pair of chairs along the wall watching the admirals talk. “How was being second in command for you, Aden?”

  “It was great. I moved all your stuff into a crew cabin and took your stateroom. Nice view of the forward launch tubes from your window, by the way.” Patho paused a second before letting a smile spread across his face.

  “Nice, just perfect. I presume you found a way to squeeze my bed into the crew cabin at least?”

  “It actually took up the entire floor space, so I just piled all your clothes and books on top of it. I expect it'll give you really bad back pains if you try to sleep in there.”

  The two men shared a laugh and Kri clapped Patho on the shoulder.

  “I expect so.” Kri's expression grew serious. “What do you think's going to happen?”

  “Tough to say. I hope the-”

  The room was shattered by a massive explosion. Chunks of debris flew in every direction, and choking dust filled the air. Patho was pummeled to the ground by the explosion and immediately felt a tremendous pain in his back and legs. He struggled to move, but found he couldn't. Gasping and trying to breathe as little of the dust as possible, he turned and looked backward. A slab of gray concrete was laying across his back just above the hips. Blood was seeping around the edges he could see. His blood. A strange feeling of dreaminess began to come over his senses. The pain took on a distant feeling. Turning, he looked up and saw Kri stooping over him. He was holding a part of his shirt over a jagged wound in his left arm. Blood ran down his face and covered the ribbons of his dress uniform.

  Kri's mouth moved, but Patho couldn't hear the words. Something felt urgent about the situation, but he just wondered why everything was so quiet. Looking around again, he reached up and tried to brush the blood off of Kri's ribbons. Such a shame, they were quite pretty in a military way. Kri took Patho's hand and held it in his blood covered right hand. His mouth was moving again, but Aden still couldn't quite make out what he was saying. He was just so tired. A short nap was the perfect thing right now. He felt his eyes closing and waited for the comfort of sleep to overtake him.

  Chapter 8

  When Hanlon returned to the bridge, Drogue was sitting just as she'd left him, slumped and nearly asleep in the command chair. Despite his obvious weariness, he was still giving out orders in a firm voice. Lieutenant Watkins was still on the bridge as well. Unlike Drogue, however, he was animatedly working at his console.

  Hanlon relieved Drogue, and once he'd left the bridge to turn in, she addressed the young science officer. “Mister Watkins, what are you still doing here? Isn't tonight your turn for midnight shift?”

  “Yes, ma'am, but I'm still working on the simulation computer. I've set it up to make it look like we've been cheating all along. If the alliance is truly responsible for nearly destroying the human race, I want them to underestimate us at every turn. A bit of extra misinformation may make the story more believable.”

  “I see. What specifically have you done?”

  “I set up the simulation computer to accidentally send the alliance flag ship a data packet that shows pre-modification values for our hull strength and weapon power. Then a second data packet will be sent with our actual values. I did this in a way that makes it look like they were meant to be the same data packet, but one was accidentally sent out instead of the other. To any alliance system technician or operations officer, this should stick out immediately when they run a post exercise analysis. I think they'll seize on it as a way of 'proving'-” he actually made air quotes before dropping his hands back to his console, “-that we've been cheating all along.”

  “Excellent work, Lieutenant. I presume Admiral Drogue is already aware of your efforts?”

  “Of course, ma'am. He approved the plan while you were off watch.”

  “Understood. What else have we been working on?”

  “Well, the admiral wanted to make sure everything we'd done so far was something we could blame on some kind of misinformation. We also worked out a way of making the main guns fire, so they appear to be giving off much more destructive energy than they really are. This makes the test shot against the Dirk look like a sham. It's as though the ship was never in any real danger, and we just hit it with a low power shot from the forward guns.”

  “That covers everything except for our enhanced hull strength. Any plans to lead the alliance to a false conclusion there?”

  “No need. So far the only thing they've heard about our hull strength is what we've told them. Without any active sensor reads or demonstrations of the concept they probably won't be able to reproduce it from the communications we've had. All we do before we leave is put the demo beams back in their original configuration. A physical inspection will show the systems were messed with a lot, but there won't be any way to figure out exactly what we were doing. If we do have to answer any hard questions, I think we can just say we were conducting systems analysis to backward engineer how alliance technology worked.”

  “So when do you pull a rabbit out of your hat, lieutenant?”

  “Ma'am?”

  “Never mind,” Hanlon said and shook her head slightly. While Watkins was a highly capable officer, his sense of humor needed some help. Hanlon was rusty herself after so much time in Drogue's stifling company. Where had that man learned to hate humor so much? Perhaps that was an unfair thought, she reproached herself. Drogue just ran a very tight ship. “Are we on track for tomorrow morning's exercise?”

  “Yes, ma'am. The system assault parameters are what I've been working on all this time. The program should be ready well before we're in position.”

  “Make sure you give yourself time to get some rest as well, Lieutenant.”

  “I will, ma'am.”

  The next morning, just at the beginning of first watch, the crews of the offensive squadron were sent to battle stations in anticipation of the exercise. Hanlon watched most of the bridge crew, stifling yawns and blinking to clear sleep deprived eyes, man their posts. She observed status board by her command chair. “The ship is at battle stations, Admiral.”

  “Very well, Captain. Are we in position to begin the exercise?”

  “Yes, sir. Mister Watkins has reported all preparations to the simulation computer are complete. We should expect to be thoroughly trounced on this one, sir.”

  “Excellent. Signal Commander Ktenu's formation that we're prepared to begin the exercise.”
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  “Aye, sir,” Hanlon said and worked on her console for a moment. She received a chime of acknowledgment from the console and said, “Ktenu reports he's in position and ready to begin at the scheduled time. Three minutes, Admiral.”

  “Very well. Did you have time on your third watch last night to check over the changes Watkins made to the simulation computer?”

  “Yes, sir. The idea is ingenious. With any luck, when we return these ships to the alliance, they won't be able to make heads or tails of what we were really doing here.”

  “I've been giving that some thought, Captain. While I would not condone theft of their property, I may sanction some kind of sabotage. There could be some value in making it even more difficult to discern what modifications were made to these ships. We might suffer some 'accidents' en route back to the base once we complete our raids.”

  “You mean to go through with the raids then?”

  “I do, Captain. When we return to the alliance base, I also mean to commandeer the ship containing the resources obtained from the raids. We'll have fought and probably died for them. We can make a reasonable argument they're ours. If the alliance forces our hand, we can offer them some of the resources in exchange for allowing us the use of their ships.”

  “I believe that may be a violation of the mutual protection pact the Lashmere government signed with the alliance, sir.” Hanlon felt a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. While she believed it was a good idea to get away from the alliance as soon as possible, she was unsure of how she felt about taking the resources the alliance was expecting. She felt theft and deceit were morally wrong and avoided such actions whenever possible. “The move may force them into a hostile action against Lashmere before we're ready, sir. Perhaps we may want to just give them the resources and leave?”