“Lieutenant Eastwood, you’ve got access to the destination coordinates. Plug them in and let’s go.”
“Coordinates entered. Fifteen days? Damn.”
“We’re going somewhere unknown to the HPA, Lieutenant. That means a long journey.”
Eastwood didn’t mention it again, while Aston and Burner read the mood well enough to keep their own mouths shut.
“Eight minutes for ternium drive warmup, sir,” said Eastwood.
“Quicker than anything in the HPA fleet,” said Burner. “The Vengeance is fitted with a fast core.”
“Or more efficient algorithms,” Eastwood reminded him.
The Vengeance’s lightspeed drive grumbled and everything shook. When Recker touched his console, he could feel the vibration in his fingertips and again he was left with the impression that the warmup was being deliberately constrained.
At exactly eight minutes, the ternium drive activated and the Vengeance accelerated to a lightspeed multiple similar to that attainable by a fleet battleship. The transition was rougher than he remembered from Tanril and he guessed that last time he must have had too much on his plate to worry about minor issues like moderate physical pain.
Nobody said much during the following ten minutes as they maintained a vigil over their consoles in case anything went south. Nothing did.
“Fifteen days,” said Aston. “Time for you to spill the beans, sir,” she continued with a disarming smile.
“For once, there are no beans to spill, Commander. Admiral Telar wants me out of the way while he handles the post-mission repercussions from our recent journey to Pinvos. Other than that, I already gave you the outline. The Vengeance sent out a ping to a distant world and our technicians intercepted it. We’re going to find whatever it is that we find.”
“That’s it?” said Burner.
“I thought you’d appreciate the straightforward nature of the briefing, Lieutenant.”
“What more were you expecting?” said Aston curiously.
“I don’t know – maybe it’s just that the crumbling supports propping up my illusions that military planners are somehow much cleverer than me just got knocked out with a fifteen-pound sledgehammer.”
Recker laughed. “Is that your play for a transfer to ground duties, Lieutenant?”
“Hell no, sir. Hand me a food replicator and a headset and I’ll give you the universe.”
“I’m glad your enthusiasm remains undiminished,” said Recker. “And I hope that remains true at the end of a fifteen day lightspeed voyage.”
“Where did this ping come from, sir?” asked Burner, his expression becoming serious. “And did we learn anything else from it?”
“The transmission source is somewhere deep in the hull and that’s about the extent of our knowledge,” said Recker, repeating what he’d read in the mission briefing document.
“Is the Vengeance still sending pings?” Burner persisted.
“I don’t know. Admiral Telar only mentioned one ping. It didn’t contain positional data for the Vengeance, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s what I was wondering,” Burner confirmed. “It’s usually impossible to reverse-trace an inbound comms – assuming it doesn’t contain the relevant source data – but we don’t know what kind of tech the receiver might contain.”
“Or even if the receiver still exists,” said Aston.
“That’s a good point, Commander.”
“We’re dealing with plenty of unknowns, Lieutenant,” said Recker. “I intend to find some answers.”
Burner gave a nod of acceptance and turned back to his console.
“Is there anything we need to know about the Vengeance?” asked Eastwood. “Maybe something the technicians discovered or changed while we were at Pinvos?”
After landing the warship at Adamantine, Recker’s crew had been denied access to the ongoing research into the alien vessel’s capabilities, though not Recker himself. Since they had a stake in this, he made sure they heard most of what was going on, even if that amounted effectively to nothing.
“As far as I’m aware, we know little beyond what we found on the return trip from Tanril, Lieutenant. The Vengeance is a little faster than we’d expect given the ratio between mass and its assumed ternium drive output. At 2.7 billion tons, it’s also approximately thirty percent heavier than its overall volume would suggest.”
“Hold up, sir. That’s a new one on me,” said Eastwood.
“And on me – I only found out because one of the technicians left themselves signed into a tablet and forgot to bring it with them when they exited the ship.”
“Ternium is already enormously dense and the alloys we use to construct our plating likewise,” said Eastwood, his interest clearly piqued. “Did the technicians have any theories?”
“I didn’t get a chance to find out – the tablet shut itself down.”
“Damn.”
“It’ll give you something to think about, Lieutenant.”
“You’re about to remind me that I’ve got fifteen days to come up with some ideas.”
“I’d prefer to find out by unlocking the Vengeance’s security systems,” said Recker.
“I think that’s the captain’s blessing for you to spend two weeks scratching your ass, Ken,” said Burner.
Eastwood snorted. “Chance would be a fine thing - I’ve got my hands full looking after you and picking up your empty coffee cups.”
Recker smiled to himself and let them talk. Like Burner had said on his entrance to the bridge – it didn’t seem as if their feet had a chance to touch the ground. Not that Recker had any complaints, and, though he missed his family, he recognized that wars were won by the side giving maximum commitment. His parents understood, though a whispering voice reminded him that maybe he should have spoken to them by FTL comm back on Lustre, just so they knew their boy was safe. Recker felt himself unexpectedly choking up and he took a deep breath.
“Commander Aston,” he said, rising. “You’ve got the controls – I’m going to speak with Sergeant Vance. He and his men deserve the courtesy.”
Aston didn’t miss much and she looked at him closely. “Yes, sir,” was all she said.
“Sir, before you go?” said Burner.
“Lieutenant?”
“Someone left a bottle next to your console.”
“A gift from Admiral Telar. For Pinvos. Whisky. We’ll try it later.”
Recker left the bridge and went to find Vance and whoever else was with him in the mess area. The Vengeance may have been constructed by an alien species, but it had much in common with an HPA warship. Not that any of the few internal rooms had been fitted with beds when Recker and the others found the warship on Tanril, but the Adamantine ground crews had installed enough bunks for the soldiers, as well as tables, benches and a second replicator in the designated mess room.
The mess area was a little larger than the equivalent on a fleet destroyer and almost every bench was occupied. Each soldier was dressed in a combat suit and though nobody wore a helmet, they were close at hand.
“Sergeant Vance,” said Recker, stopping at one of the tables.
“Sir,” said Vance, turning from his conversation with Corporal Hendrix and Private Montero.
“I hoped you and your squad would have an opportunity to put your feet up on Lustre.”
“We had a couple of hours, sir,” said Hendrix with a dazzling smile. “Me? I call that a win.”
Recker glanced over his shoulder. “At least they provided a new-model replicator. And Admiral Telar informs me he sent you all a token of his appreciation.”
“That he did, sir. Eighteen whole crates of appreciation.”
“We’ve got a fifteen-day trip ahead of us – make sure it’s gone before we arrive.”
“Yes, sir.” Vance indicated an empty space next to Corporal Hendrix. “Please.”
Recker sat and told Vance what was happening. As he spoke, the other soldiers drifted closer so the
y could hear the words first-hand. The telling didn’t take long and at the end, Recker got the reaction he expected – a mixture of resigned acceptance and a few wisecracks.
“Well, Sergeant?” he asked once the soldiers lost interest and wandered off. “Feel like you’ve been dealt a good hand or a bad one?”
Vance pondered his response. “I’ve spent what seems like my whole life fighting on the ground. It’s something I’m good at and I know how it works. Warships? I never understood them, except as big lumps of metal filled with missiles and other crap meant to turn me and my squad into atoms. The ship captains I’ve served with – at least the ones who spoke to me - said you get this feel for the hardware.” He paused, still thinking. “I never did.”
“And now?” asked Recker, interested at this glimpse into Vance’s mind.
“The Vengeance is special, sir. You might think that sounds stupid coming from a man who says he knows nothing about spaceships, but maybe it means that this ship is so different that even someone like me can tell it.”
“What do you think Corporal Hendrix?” asked Recker.
She stared at him long and hard. “Like Sergeant Vance said - the Vengeance is special, sir. This war is going badly and I wouldn’t trust anyone other than the Sergeant and these other lowlife scumbags,” she gestured at the other soldiers in the room, “to do the dirty work.” Hendrix smiled again and Recker was struck by what a difference it made.
Recker smiled in return. “Then let’s find out exactly what makes it so special and bring it home in one piece.”
He rose and left them to it. A brief circuit of the Vengeance reminded him of what he already knew – that the spaceship’s internal space was even more restrictive than it was on an HPA warship. It lacked an underside bay and the hardware modules were completely inaccessible without specialised tools and facilities. Recker didn’t mind – it only reinforced his impression that the Vengeance was designed and constructed for the sole purpose of winning wars.
With his inspection complete, Recker returned to the bridge and prepared himself for fifteen days of speculation and anticipation.
Chapter Nineteen
“Ten minutes to re-entry!” said Eastwood, the words heralding the end of what had been a tedious journey for everyone.
“Acknowledged,” said Recker, feeling his skin tighten with an adrenaline surge.
“All systems green,” said Eastwood.
Recker didn’t need to ask if his crew was ready – they’d been desperate for the coming moments since the Vengeance first lifted off the Adamantine airfield. He ran briefly through the mission outline, to reinforce the details.
“We’re arriving at the Filos-R system,” he said. “The star is comparatively large, but of no real interest to our mission. We’re expecting to find fifteen or more planets and DS-Quad1’s arrays discovered the Vengeance’s outward ping was aimed at a place between one and three hundred million klicks from the surface of Filos-R. We don’t know what we’re looking for – the receptor could be a planet or it could be another satellite like the Interrogator.”
“Once we arrive, Lieutenant Burner and I will work on the sensors to locate the target,” said Aston. “Let’s hope we find something early, so we don’t have to go off exploring.”
Recker leaned back in his chair. For the last fifteen days he’d tried not to overthink the coming mission, aware that guessing would lead nowhere. With re-entry to local space imminent, he allowed himself to wonder what might be in store for the spaceship and its crew. The previous few weeks had demonstrated how limited was humanity’s understanding of the universe. Different species existed – friend or foe, nobody knew - and the Vengeance was heading straight for a facility created by one of these alien races. One way or another, Recker was determined to find out more about them.
“Two minutes!”
“Everyone at your stations.”
With the journey being so long, Recker would not usually have been surprised if the lightspeed calculations were many seconds out. He watched the countdown timer and, the moment it hit zero, the Vengeance’s hull grated and shook. The sensors remained offline for less than a second and then they displayed their feeds of dark space.
Unsure if the arrival point was safe or not, Recker threw the controls forward and gritted his teeth at the nausea from re-entry and the lurch of acceleration which the life support module didn’t fully suppress.
“Local scan underway,” said Burner. “We arrived pretty much dead on target.”
“Two hundred million klicks from Filos-R,” said Eastwood. “No hardware errors to report.”
“I’m trying to pinpoint the nearest planets,” said Aston.
“Local scan clear,” said Burner. “Expanding the search sphere.”
The following two minutes were tense and Recker flew erratically until he was certain the Vengeance wasn’t in immediate danger. When the tactical remained empty and Burner located nothing in the vicinity, Recker slowed the warship and flew it in a wide circle to give his officers time to complete their initial scans.
“I’ve located two planets, sir,” said Aston. “DS-Quad1 already identified them and named them Uboran and Vitran. The monitoring station’s long-range sensor data suggests these may be planets three and four, but with a strong likelihood of error.”
“Uboran is 210 million klicks out from the star and Vitran 290 million,” added Burner. “We’re closest to Uboran at 30 million klicks and it’s drifting away from us at twelve klicks per second.”
Burner had put the Filos-R sun onto one of the bulkhead screens and Recker stared at the shimmering sphere of red. The Vengeance’s sensor capabilities were approximately equivalent to those on an HPA battleship – something it accomplished with far fewer sensor arrays – but at this distance, the star’s surface variations were hard to distinguish.
“There could be a half dozen other planets blind side that fall within the expected range of Filos-R,” said Recker. “Admiral Telar only had limited time with DS-Quad1.”
“I notice that the guys who detected the outward ping attempted to tally its lightspeed velocity with the orbital period of Uboran and Vitran,” said Burner. “That was a good idea, but they weren’t able to produce a definitive conclusion.”
“Have you located any other planets?” asked Recker.
“Kilatas and Zarkus,” said Burner. “Those are way outside our search distance. One’s a gas giant and the other is covered in ice.”
“Ignore them for the moment,” said Recker. “We’ll check out the closer planets. Bring Uboran up on the screen.”
“Here it is,” said Burner. “Diameter: eleven thousand klicks. Not much else to say about it.”
“Rocks and shit,” said Eastwood.
“What about Vitran?” asked Recker.
“It’s 120 million klicks from us,” said Burner. “Let’s see how much enhancement I can wring out of these arrays.” He swore under his breath. “Hell, I was not expecting that.”
The planet’s image came up on the screen, a fist-sized circle of grey mingled with dark green.
“Are those what I think they are?” said Recker.
“If you thought you were looking at clouds and forests, then yes,” said Burner.
“Life,” said Aston.
Recker and his crew knew the significance. For all its centuries of space exploration, the HPA had only ever discovered a handful of habitable worlds and the best estimates suggested the Daklan had populated a similar number. And here, out in Filos-R, was another.
“That’s got to be the place,” said Aston.
“Maybe,” said Recker. “Anything else we can learn without having to make a lightspeed jump to get closer?”
“Not much, sir. I could probably guess at the atmospheric composition, but with all those trees, the answer isn’t going to come as much of a surprise. And we’ve got zero chance of locating an alien installation if there’s one down there.”
“You’ve got ten minutes
to check out Uboran,” said Recker. “After that, we’re heading for Vitran.”
He dropped back into his seat and scratched at the stubble covering his chin. While space technology meant that installations could be established in the most hostile places, the presence of a life-bearing planet was too much like coincidence and Recker dearly wanted to know if Vitran was home to only trees, or whether a potentially hostile alien species also lived there. Perhaps with a fleet of advanced warships.
“Nothing of note on the visible side of Uboran,” said Burner when his ten minutes were up. “I’ve identified a couple of areas where I’d prefer a close-range sweep and then there’s the entire blind side to check out.”
“I’m willing to discount Uboran for the moment,” said Recker.
“Leaving us with Vitran,” said Aston.
“A life bearing planet with plenty of unknowns,” mused Recker. “Especially since the evidence suggests another alien species got here first.”
“We can’t risk a lightspeed approach, sir,” said Eastwood. “It’s much harder to sneak up on a populated world than a planet with a single installation guarded by a warship or two.”
“The journey on sub-light engines is approximately twenty-three hours,” said Burner.
“We’ve come this far, I don’t see why we should rush the final and most important part of the mission,” said Aston.
“I agree,” said Recker. He fed power into the warship’s engines and aimed it towards Vitran. “Let’s get going while we think about the possibilities.”
“If the species who built the Vengeance live on Vitran, they might send out a welcoming committee,” said Eastwood. “And politely request the return of their spaceship.”
“They might,” said Recker. The enormity of the situation was sinking in – the crew of the Vengeance could well be on the brink of making contact with a hitherto undiscovered alien species, with all the uncertainty that entailed. “Does anyone remember much about their alien contact training?” he asked.
“I keep a copy under my pillow, sir,” said Burner.
“I thought you had other kinds of reading material under there,” said Eastwood. “The kind that has more pictures than writing.”
Fractured Horizons (Savage Stars Book 2) Page 16
