by Dietmar Wehr
Third Fleet Flagship (Ranger) / Sol system:
Eagleton paced back and forth in front of the main display in Ranger’s Flag Bridge. He hated this waiting. It was now almost seven weeks since the Metrone had been conquered, and four weeks since the Alliance attempt at liberating that system had failed miserably, and there was still not a peep out of the Tyrell anywhere. Even the previously scheduled attack on the Alliance member Wottan home system, the date of which the Tyrell had set years ago, had not taken place, much to the Wottans’ relief and to the utter confusion of the rest of the Alliance. As far as anyone knew, the Tyrell had never not attacked when they said they would. Were they preparing a massive fleet to attack Earth? Were they pulling back into their empire to shrink their perimeter and shorten their internal supply lines as some of the staff weenies had suggested they should? Or had they finally run across another race as powerful as they were and were scrambling to shift their forces elsewhere? Now THAT was an appealing thought, but it would be foolish to assume it. Third Fleet had to stay on the defensive until the threat of a surprise attack was either neutralized or was confirmed as non-existent. That’s what irked him so much. The EAF had the initiative when it set up the Metrone ambush, and now they had lost the initiative. He almost wished the Tyrell would attack and get it over with. Almost. This constant patrolling was hard on crews. It was all too easy to let one’s focus and attention slip when every hour of duty and every duty shift was boring. Nothing ever happened, and drills could only go so far in relieving the monotony before they too became tedious routine.
Eagleton was just about to let his Flag Bridge crew know that he was leaving to get a bite to eat when the main display pinged for attention and switched to a long-range, tactical view of the Sol system. One of the hundreds of deployed recon drones had picked up a momentary reflection contact, and a faint red line showed the contact’s bearing. There were no known ships operating anywhere near that bearing, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was the Tyrell who had caused that sighting. Small, rocky objects that tumbled as they moved around the system could in theory reflect enough light to trigger a contact report. He checked the relative positions of his five carriers, which were spread out around Earth. There had been concerns expressed by HQ, when he initially ordered this deployment, he was losing the potential advantage of close communication that having all five carriers in a tight formation would provide. He had justified his decision by pointing out that FTL communication between carriers would be almost instantaneous, and if a strike force of stingers was needed, the carriers could micro-jump back into close proximity very quickly. The advantage of being dispersed this way was that if the Tyrell launched a surprise attack, they would only get one carrier, not all five. Ranger was not the closest carrier to that bearing. The closest carrier was Waterloo. He turned to his FTO.
“Tell Waterloo that I want a D2 to jump to the base of that bearing and then scan along it at maximum speed.” He waited for his order to be confirmed before continuing. “All carriers are to go to yellow alert. I want all fission-armed stingers to be at high alert status for immediate launch.” He said it calmly, but it still caused several of the crew to turn their heads to look at him. Stingers armed with fission warhead missiles were never launched in drills. Recovering a stinger with its missile still attached was a tricky operation, and in the rush to produce the warheads, the engineers had not incorporated failsafe devices that would prevent an accidental detonation if the warhead was subjected to sudden shocks such as hitting the deck during landing.
Eagleton expected another reflected sunlight contact any moment if that really was a Tyrell fleet out there. The Tyrell couldn’t possibly know where all the recon drones had been deployed, and with dozens, perhaps even hundreds, of ships all making minor maneuvering adjustments to maintain a formation, the chances of causing a reflection that could be seen by a drone was practically a certainty.
It was five and a half minutes after the first contact that another drone reported a sighting, this one lasting for several seconds. Eagleton’s hope that this second bearing would pinpoint the enemy fleet was dashed when the display showed the bearing leading to a completely different direction. A check of the sidebar showed the RD2 jump drone had already scanned along the first bearing for a distance of 189 light-seconds with nothing to show for it. Eagleton ordered a second RD2 drone to scan along the new bearing, and a nagging suspicion was beginning to form in his mind that the Tyrell might be deliberately causing these sightings with single ships to either cause him to commit his stingers against a bogus target or wear his pilots down with false alarms. He wondered if he should redeploy his carriers to new positions. It suddenly dawned on him that the Tyrell might want him to do just that if it caused his carriers to maneuver so that enemy ships and craft might be able to see their reflected sunlight. And if they were attempting to do that, launching recon drones might give the launching carrier’s position away too. It was too late to do anything about the first drone. If the Tyrell had caught a glimpse of that being launched, they would already know where Waterloo was. Ranger was closer to the second contact bearing and about to launch that second drone, and this time the Tyrell might see it.
“Cancel D2 launch!” The unexpected volume of his voice made some of his crew jump in surprise.
“Ah, RD2 drone launch cancelled, Admiral,” said the FTO in an uncertain voice. While Eagleton pondered how to check out the second bearing without risking being seen, he heard his CAG’s voice over the Flag Bridge loudspeakers.
“Cag to FC.”
Eagleton nodded in understanding. Under the accepted chain of command, he would have told his CAG to cancel the drone launch since all drones and all stingers were the CAG’s responsibility, but the drone had only been seconds from launch, and there wasn’t time to follow the chain of command. His CAG was quite legitimately pissed at being bypassed. Eagleton didn’t feel like trying to justify his action over the intercom where the crew could hear it.
“Come to the Flag Bridge, Cag,” he said. While he waited for his CAG to arrive, he returned his focus on the question of what to do about the second sighting. If the enemy had already caught a reflection from Waterloo’s drone launch, they might only have a single bearing with no idea of where Waterloo was along that bearing. A second drone launch might be seen by a different ship or craft or drone if the Tyrell used drones, and that would pinpoint Waterloo’s position. In fact, it was entirely possible that they had more than one bearing from the first drone and already knew where Waterloo was. There could be an enemy attack force on its way to her right now. He suddenly knew what he had to do. When the CAG entered the Flag Bridge a second later, Eagleton stood up to face him and waved him over. The officer had just opened his mouth to speak when Eagleton spoke first.
“Bypassing you on the cancellation couldn’t be helped, Cag. I think the enemy is trying to goad us into launching drones or stingers in order to catch our reflections. I want you to arrange for Waterloo to launch two drones asap. One will be an RD2 to scan the second bearing. The other will be an RD1 to be left at that location. I’m going to order Waterloo to micro-jump as soon as both drones are launched, so get it done quickly, Cag.” Without waiting for an acknowledgement, he turned to the Fleet Astrogation Officer. “FAO, I want Waterloo to make a 55 light-second micro-jump on precisely the same heading they’re facing now as soon as Cag’s two drones are launched. Make sure they don’t maneuver before the jump.” The officer acknowledged the order and as he turned around, Eagleton noticed that the CAG was at the Com Station talking with his Deputy CAG on board Waterloo.
The drone launch went off without a hitch, and Waterloo jumped to its new position. When another five minutes has passed without any sign of the enemy, Eagleton wondered when the next shoe would drop. Eighty-nine seconds later the display pinged and another text message appeared.
[DRONE 987 REPORTS MULTIPLE OBJECTS OCCULTING BACKGROUND STARS. SIGHTING REPORT STOPPED IN MID-TRANSMISSION.]
Eagleton allowed a hint of a smile to cross his face as he nodded. Drone 987 was the drone Waterloo had left behind before jumping away. For it to detect objects passing in front of background stars meant those objects had to be either very large or relatively close. He was willing to bet on the later. The interrupted transmission was almost certainly caused by destruction of the drone due to enemy fire. If those objects were Tyrell attack craft, and if the enemy carriers had gotten a triangulated fixed on the drone’s position during its launch, then he now had an approximate idea of how far away those carriers were from that drone based on the time it had taken the attack craft to get there. Assuming the enemy carriers launched their attack force as soon as the drone was detected, and assuming that those attack craft has traveled at their maximum speed of 60% of light, the furthest away from Waterloo’s former position the enemy carriers could be was almost exactly four light-minutes. He told the FTO to program the display to show that radius. What struck him first was that Waterloo was still within that spherical volume of space. It was possible, although not likely, that Waterloo was now very close to the enemy carriers. If that was the case, then Waterloo might be able to get a visual sighting itself. The reverse was also true, but he had to believe that the odds of detecting multiple ships had to be greater than the odds of detecting just one ship. It also meant that sending tight beam FTL signals to Waterloo was risky too. If the enemy carriers really were somewhere in the sphere, and if he redeployed his carriers to positions around that sphere… The display’s ping interrupted his thought before he could complete it.
[THIRD REFLECTED SIGHTING BY DRONE 477.]
A new bearing appeared on the tactical display leading off into a completely different direction from the other two. Eagleton suddenly had an idea. He stepped over to the Astrogation Station and leaned over the console.
“If we assume that all three sightings were due to enemy attack craft sent out to deliberately attract attention, can we use those three bearings to estimate their launch point?” The FAO took a few seconds to think about that question.
“Only if we made some assumptions. For example, that all three craft traveled the same distance from their carriers before maneuvering to get our attention. Another assumption would be that all three were launched from the same carrier or at least from multiple carriers flying in close formation. If their carriers are spread out like ours are…” He didn’t need to finish the sentence; the point was obvious. Even if the calculations showed a probable launch point, there was no guarantee that it was the correct one.
“Understood. Take a crack at solving that problem, and let’s see what we get.”
As Eagleton stepped back to his Station, the CAG came over and said, “Are we going to send a D2 along that third bearing, Admiral?”
Eagleton shook his head. “No. At least not yet. Neither of the other two have detected anything, and I’m betting the third bearing is another red herring. We’ll stand pat for now.”
“In that case, can I tell my high alert pilots that they can stand down?”
Eagleton understood the reasons for the question. Those pilots were still in their cockpits and had been sitting there for almost 15 minutes. And while their cockpits had been designed to be relatively comfortable even if pilots had to sit in them for hours at a time, it was the tension of possibly being launched literally at any second that caused psychological discomfort, anxiety and, with lots of time to think, maybe even fear. Eagleton was sympathetic because of his days as Cate’s CAG, but he had other factors to consider now, ones that a CAG didn’t have to think about.
“I’m aware of how long those pilots have been sitting in their ships, but they’ll have to sit there a while longer. The FAO is working on estimating the enemy carriers’ location. If he can come up with something actionable, your pilots will launch.” The CAG didn’t look happy but nodded and turned away. Eagleton checked the sidebar and the elapsed time. In spite of the confident demeanor he had projected to the Cag, he was beginning to have doubts about whether he was handling this situation properly. Continuing to do nothing had its own risks.
It didn’t take the FAO long to come up with the results of the analysis, but it wasn’t what Eagleton was hoping for. Instead of one or maybe two possible locations, there were thirteen distinct locations that were widely scattered, and six of them were within the spherical volume of space. As he looked at the data on the main display, the FAO spoke.
“If we could get one more bearing, we might be able to narrow this down to a much more manageable number.” No sooner had he said that than the display pinged and scrolled another message.
[Fourth reflected sighting by drone 199.]
Eagleton heard someone gasp as the new bearing appeared on the large scale tactical display. It rotated the image to reveal that the new bearing intersected the bearing from drone 377. At least now they knew the precise location of that particular enemy craft or ship.
“Can we use that data to eliminate some of the probable locations?” asked Eagleton.
The FAO nodded. “Absolutely we can, Admiral, and pretty quickly too. Watch the display, please.”
Eagleton did so and saw all but two of the enemy positions disappear, and better yet, only one of the remaining two was inside the sphere that should contain the carrier that launched that strike. The other position was about the same distance outside the sphere as the radius of the sphere itself. Eagleton heard the CAG move closer to stand next to him.
“That position inside the sphere has to be where the enemy is,” said the CAG.
“But it may not be the only position,” said the FAO as he pointed to the other position.
Yes, thought Eagleton, the more I think about it, the more logical it seems that there is at least one enemy carrier in both positions. One of them is the main force and the other is the skirmisher, but which one is which, and does it really matter?
“We’re going to assume that there are enemy ships at both locations. I want the three of us to come up with an attack plan for hitting both locations simultaneously.”
Three minutes later they had their plan. The CAG went off to pass the necessary instructions to his pilots. The FAO prepared FTL orders to be transmitted to the other carriers while Eagleton returned to his Command Station and tried to use controlled breathing to slow down his racing heart. He was about to roll the dice, and if he had guessed wrong, the consequences were literally unthinkable.
The plan had to be executed carefully. Waterloo would stay were it was. The other four carriers would micro-jump to four points that were the same distance from the enemy position inside the sphere, now designated as Sierra1, as from the other position designated as Sierra2. Those four new carrier positions formed a perfect square, and each ship’s Helm Officer was instructed to orient his or her carrier in a way that minimized possible reflections to both Sierras. When the jumps were complete, Bismark Sea launched an RD2 that was programmed to jump within mass detection range of Sierra1, and Saratoga did the same for Sierra2.
While he waited for the recon results, Eagleton pondered his next decision. Should he order the launch of stingers armed with fission warhead missiles or with KE missiles? The answer depended on how many enemy ships were detected versus the number of warhead missiles available, but even that was a simplistic answer. Wiping out this enemy fleet, while desirable, would not stop additional fleets from attacking. And using up all or most of his available inventory of fission warhead missiles now might very well leave Earth defenseless if there weren’t enough of those warheads available when the next attack came.
It didn’t take long to get the recon results. Sierra1 was a single ship that had to be a carrier. Sierra2 was composed of 33 ships, and preliminary analysis said that 30 of those ships were the standard Tyrell battleships, while the other three were somewhat smaller. TacComp had declared those three to be enemy carriers since they were each roughly the same mass as Sierra1. He had 54 fission warhead missiles, so in theory Third Fleet cou
ld wipe out the entire enemy fleet without giving them enough time to send a message back first. The Tyrell leadership would have no idea of what had happened to their fleet, but two thirds of the available missiles would have been used up. On the other hand, he could field 310 KE missiles, which meant that each enemy ship could be hit by nine missiles, with some targets getting ten, except that with his own carriers spread out, it would be difficult to co-ordinate the attacks of five stinger groups so that they all fired on their targets at the same time to maximize the element of surprise. That was the drawback of dispersing his carriers instead of keeping them all together in one formation, but he still felt the lower risk of losing all his carriers in one enemy attack was worth the trade-off. Now he just had to finger out how to overcome the disadvantages of his decisions.
