by Jay Allan
“Five minutes to firing point, captain.” Forsten’s eyes were glued to his display as he spoke. He was manning the tactical station, but he was also Garret’s XO.
“Very well, lieutenant.” Garret glanced around the room. He was pleased with his people. This would be the first time into battle for many of them, but they were all focused and in control. He took a breath himself. He’d seen plenty of combat during his years as a junior officer, but this was the first time he was in command, and he felt a tension, a tightness in his gut. It was different – worse – than what he’d always experienced before. Garret was cocky and aggressive, but that didn’t mean he was immune to fear. He’d been afraid every time he’d gone into battle. But this was new.
The klaxon sounded the first alarm. Three minutes to launch. “Bridge crew to the shells.” Garret didn’t need the crew for the next three minutes, not just to relay him reports he could get directly from the computer. In truth, there was no reason he couldn’t button up too, but there was no way Garret was leaving his command chair. Not until the last second.
The second alarm sounded. The lighting on the bridge brightened as the reactor surged to full power. “Reactor at 120%, sir, and functioning within acceptable parameters.” The relief in the engineer’s voice was obvious. Massively spiking the reactor power was dangerous, and he was glad it was over with.
“Very well, engineer.” Garret could feel his face flush. The excitement coursed through his body, driving away fear and doubt. “Weapons control, fire!” Garret’s command was superfluous. “His crew already had their orders, and before he’d even finished speaking Wasp lurched hard as her dual tubes launched two over-powered plasma torpedoes toward the enemy transport.
Garret got up from his chair and walked to his shell. He pressed the button and stepped back as the front opened. He hated the tombs. He paused and took a deep breath before he stepped backwards into the enclosure. The front closed with a loud click, and Garret felt the injection delivering the drug cocktail that would aid his body in enduring the forces of acceleration.
He couldn’t move in the shell, but he still had access to the comlink. He waited quietly, counting off the seconds, then he winced as Wasp’s engines fired on full power and the pressure hit him. Even in the tomb, 20g was a lot to take. The shell increased atmospheric pressure, helping to force the air into his straining lungs. He could speak, at least enough to give commands, but it took considerable effort.
“Enemy transport A identified as a Sahara-class heavy troopship.” Garret had been waiting for ship’s AI to complete the damage assessment. He could feel the tension in his body, waiting. “Both torpedoes impacted the target amidships. Preliminary data indicates massive structural damage, internal fires, and loss of atmosphere.”
Garret’s felt the urge to jump with excitement, but the shell held him firmly in place. Bullseye, he thought, a huge smile creeping over his face…that ship is gone!
Chapter 5
Control Center
AS Wasp
Struve 2398 System
Approaching Lacaille 8760 Warp Gate
Garret took a deep, unassisted breath. The crushing pressure was gone. For most of the past three months, Wasp and Scorpion had executed an almost constant series of acceleration and deceleration burns, putting three systems between them and Tau Ceti. They’d been deep in enemy territory when they began their flight, and they’d transited through Caliphate and CAC systems since. But the next jump would bring them closer to home.
Lacaille 8760 wasn’t a very important system, but at least it was Alliance space. They’d been out of touch for three months, with no communication at all except direct ship-to-ship laser transmissions. At least they’d be able to connect with the Commnet system in Lacaille and get caught up on the status of the war.
The two vessels were all that remained of Third Squadron. Badger took a chance hit from the orbital fortress during its attack run and lost an engine. With half its thrust capacity gone, the ship had no chance to escape. Squadron Captain Simmons’ last orders were to forbid Wasp and Scorpion from trying a hopeless rescue. Garret almost ordered his ship to come about anyway, but he realized Simmons was right. Wasp had a full crew, and his responsibility was to them now. The Alliance was at war and couldn’t afford to throw away ships and trained crews on hopeless acts of heroism. Especially when they didn’t have a chance to make a difference. There was no way to decelerate and return to help Badger, not in the time she had left.
Garret listened silently to the incoming transmissions, grimly following the battle and the ultimate destruction of the squadron flagship. He ordered the AI to restrict the com to his shell only – he didn’t want his crew listening when they couldn’t do anything to help. It wouldn’t help Captain Simmons and his people, and it would just sap the morale of Wasp’s crew.
He could feel the elation from the successful attack run draining away, flushed excitement replaced by frustration and grief. That wasn’t just a ship under attack – it was Garret’s commanding officer, his comrades in arms. He was following Simmons’ orders, and he knew there was nothing he could do to alter the outcome…but he still felt disloyal. He hated himself for running for the warp gate while his brothers and sisters were being hunted down and destroyed.
His thoughts drifted, as if his mind was trying to force itself away from the tragedy unfolding on the comlink. He thought of Captain Horn at the Academy and, for the first time, he truly understood the immense pressure on the captain’s shoulders…and the kinds of decisions it was hard to live with.
The drama dragged on, Badger thrusting as strongly as her sole surviving engine could manage, trying vainly to outrun her pursuers. Simmons pushed his ship to the breaking point but, with only one engine, she simply could not produce the thrust she needed to outrun the Caliphate hunter-killers. The HKs were the enemy’s answer to the fast attack ships, and they relentlessly pursued their wounded prey, finally closing to firing range two light minutes from the warp gate.
Simmons and his crew didn’t go down without a fight, and their fire inflicted heavy damage on two of the attacking ships. But Badger was damaged and outnumbered 4-1. The mathematics of war asserted themselves, and she erupted into a massive fireball as two plasma torpedoes hit in rapid succession.
Garret felt the breath sucked from his lungs as he realized what had happened. The end came so quickly, Badger wasn’t even able to send out the Delta-Z signal of a doomed ship. One second she was there, firing at the enemy with all she had and the next she was just gone.
It had been almost three months now, and it was still surreal to Garret. Part of him kept waiting, half-expecting to hear Simmons on the com, giving orders to the squadron. But there was nothing. Wasp and Scorpion were on their own.
“Nelson, calculate time to warp gate insertion at present course and speed.” The command AIs were something new, installed just before Third Squadron embarked on its current mission. The quasi-sentient artificial intelligences were custom designed to interact seamlessly with each captain. Garret, always a student of military history, had named his Nelson. It would be a few years before he realized the stunning unoriginality of his choice. By then, there would be dozens of Nelsons serving the command officers of the fleet.
“Yes, admiral.” The AI spoke normally, in a voice that could easily have belonged to one of the crew. “Insertion in one hour, eleven minutes, 47 seconds.” The AI paused for an instant. The hesitation was for effect, not because Nelson needed time to calculate. It was all part of the overall programming to make the computer seem more human. “Scorpion will transit 37 seconds later.”
“Very well, Nelson.” Garret still wasn’t sure what he thought about the AI. He felt a little silly conversing with it as if it were a member of the crew. But there was an efficiency to it he couldn’t dispute.
“Ensign Randall, get me Captain Compton.” Garret wasn’t ready to let the AI do everything.
“Yes, sir.” Randall worked his board f
or a few seconds then turned toward Garret. “I have Captain Compton, sir.” Terrance Compton commanded Scorpion. He was a good friend of Garret’s, his constant companion through five years at the Academy. The two had graduated from the same class, and they’d served together much of the time since then. Garret’s commission was three weeks older than Compton’s, so that made him Third Squadron’s new CO.
“Very well, ensign.” Garret nodded as he flipped on his ship to ship com. “Are you as sore as me, Terrance?” Garret didn’t have Compton on visual, but he’d have bet his friend was smiling, trying not to laugh in the middle of his bridge.
“I’m pretty worn out, but I imagine not as much as an old man like you.” Garret was three months older than Compton, a fact the younger man had begun to enjoy more and more as the two progressed from brash new officers to ship captains. “That was quite a run. I’ve never spent so much time in the tombs. At least we’re almost home.” Then, with a grimmer tone. “But we didn’t get back without a price, did we?” Compton hadn’t found it any easier to run away while listening to the enemy hunt down and destroy Badger.
“No.” Garret’s voice was equally somber. “We didn’t.”
The two men were silent for a moment. Finally, Compton spoke up. “So, squadron commander…what’s up? Any orders?”
“Let’s just stay on course and transit back to friendly territory.” Garret fidgeted around in his chair trying to get comfortable. The bruises all over his body didn’t make the rigid seat any more restful. “I think the crews have had enough of the shells for now.” Garret took a quick breath and continued, “Besides, the reactors and the engines need a break. We’ve been working them hard without a stop.”
“No joke there. I have the engineer doing a full diagnostic on both. He should be done before we transit.”
Garret frowned. He should have ordered that too. Careless, he thought, annoyed with himself. Compton had gotten one up on him, but Garret would be damned if he was going to admit it.
“Ok, Terrance, just stay on course and tidy things up on Scorpion. Check in with a status report before we transit.”
“Will do.” Compton was technically insubordinate with his overly casual demeanor, but ship captains were an elite fraternity, and it wasn’t uncommon to dispense with the formalities. They both had their helmets on, and no one else was listening…and these two were as close as brothers.
“Garret out.” He flipped the comlink and double-checked to confirm the line was closed before he spoke. “Nelson, have the engineer conduct a full diagnostic of the reactor and engines before we transit.”
Chapter 6
Control Center
AS Wasp
Lacaille 8760 System
Inbound from the Struve 2398 Warp Gate
“Something’s wrong here.” Garret was whispering to himself, but Nelson heard him.
“Are you addressing me, captain?” The AI’s smooth voice was loud in Garret’s earpiece.
“No, Nelson, just talking to my…” Garret paused for a few seconds then snapped his head to the tactical station. “Lieutenant Forsten, I want silent running immediately. Scorpion too. Inform them by direct laser com.” Garret was looking straight ahead, staring at the main viewscreen, but he was seeing nothing but his thoughts. Something was wrong…he didn’t know what it was, but he could feel it…
“Wasp and Scorpion on silent running, captain.” Forsten tried to hide his confusion at Garret’s order, though not entirely successfully. The term was archaic, a reference to old wet-navy submersibles. It was originally literal, a method of operation designed to avoid detection by sonar devices that picked up sound. The term was more symbolic in the space navy, though the purpose was the same. In modern usage it meant a minimum expenditure of energy in order to maintain a small scanner profile.
“Nelson, connect to the Struve 2398 warp gate scanners. I want a complete report on any ships that have passed through.” It was a border gate, and with the CAC and Alliance at war there shouldn’t be any traffic at all. But something was off.
“Warp gate scanners non-responsive, admiral.” Nelson’s tone changed slightly, suggesting a state of heightened concern on the part of the AI. It was purely for Garret’s benefit, part of the algorithm that controlled Nelson’s interface with the admiral. “With your permission I will perform a scan for residual transit signatures, filtering out the imprints of Scorpion and Wasp.”
“Yes, proceed immediately.” Garret found it a little unsettling when his AI predicted orders before he issued them. He pulled up the database entry on Lacaille 8760 and skimmed through it. A backwater system…two planets, neither of which had been worth a major colonization effort. Just a small outpost and a research station examining storm activity on the first planet.
“Captain Garret, warp gate residual scan inconclusive. Energy traces detected, but not in sufficient quantities to confirm any transits within the last 72 hours.”
Garret’s head snapped around, a pointless gesture since Nelson wasn’t actually on the bridge. To him, inconclusive meant someone had come through that gate. The war’s been going on for five years, he thought…that energy signature should be stone cold.
Warp gates emitted pulses of energy whenever matter passed through them. The amount of energy was variable, based on the mass and time between successive transits. The exact calculation was still being hotly debated among Earth’s physicists, but the presence of any energy at all meant something had gone through the gate. Readings in the range Nelson detected could conceivably be the result of a meteor transiting recently. Or it could be the remnant of a fleet’s passage weeks earlier. There was no way to be sure.
The enemy came through here, he thought. He couldn’t prove it, couldn’t be sure. But he felt it…and the more he thought about it the more it made sense. Lacaille was a pretty worthless piece of real estate; that much was true. But it was also lightly defended, especially for a border system. And its other connection was Wolf 424…and that led to Ross 614 and its four warp gates. It was a long way around, but an invasion through Lacaille could ultimately threaten Columbia, Atlantia…most of the rest of the Alliance core worlds.
Garret was taking a big leap. An invasion by that route would pose significant logistical problems. But if the enemy could pull it off, the surprise would be devastating. All he had to go on was some trace energy readings and his own gut. But he was convinced.
“Nelson, get me a direct laser com link to Captain Compton.”
The AI responded almost immediately. “Captain Compton is on your line sir.”
“Terry, take a look at these warp gate energy scans I’m sending over and tell me what you think.”
Garret was about to instruct Nelson to transmit the full report when Compton responded. “I’ve already seen it, Augustus.” Compton was smiling, though Garret couldn’t see it on the audio-only connection. “I was about to com you about it.” He took a deep breath. “And I know what you’re thinking.”
Garret could tell Compton was on edge. Stress tended to bring out his British accent. Compton was from London, the son of a moderately powerful politician and a strikingly beautiful Cog girl who’d caught his eye. Reginald Compton eventually tired of his teenaged concubine, and he returned her to the East End slum where he’d found her. But he couldn’t quite bring himself to banish his son to the life of a penniless Cog, so Terrance grew up in the care of hired nannies in a flat his father rented expressly for the purpose.
Reginald suggested a naval career for his son. It was a respectable option, and one that effectively rid him of his embarrassing offspring. The navy was not above political influence, and he was sure he could pull some strings and get his son admitted to the Academy. But Terrance saved him the trouble, scoring in the top 1/10 of 1% on the Test and gaining admittance without political favors. Compton had always been a loner…until he met his roommate at the Academy, a cocky little shit from Terra Nova. The two became friends almost immediately, closer than brothers…
though that didn’t stop them from competing savagely with each other at every opportunity.
“Are you thinking the same thing?” Garret was always surprised at the extent he and Compton thought alike.
“There’s not much evidence to support that kind of conclusion, you know.” Compton’s voice was unconvincing, as if he were offering a perfunctory note of caution he didn’t really believe.
“Yes, but that’s not what I asked you.” Garret knew his comrade had to play devil’s advocate, but he was annoyed anyway.
“Yes, it occurred to me.” Compton’s admission was grudging. He was aggressive by nature, but he was still more cautious than Garret. He wanted more evidence, while Garret was ready to follow his hunch all the way. “But I’m not convinced.”
“Well I am.” Garret’s conviction was growing as he spoke. But what should he do? How could the remnants of Third Squadron derail a major CAC invasion force? “So, assuming we’re right, what do we do?”
Compton sighed. His head didn’t like the leap Garret was making, though his own gut agreed with his friend and commander. “Well, first we need to figure out what they’re planning.” He paused a few seconds, thinking. “They would need to set up some kind of logistics pipeline running through this system.” Another pause. “If you want to risk the energy output, I’ll launch a probe. We can confirm if the warp gate scanners were knocked out…or it it’s just a com failure. Then we’ll know.”
Garret hesitated. A probe could reach the warp gate with minimal thrust, but it would still increase their own chance of detection, especially if the enemy had seeded the area with their own scanner buoys. Whatever Garret and Compton were going to do, they would have to remain undetected as long as possible.
