by Tori Harris
“So you believe he will be traveling at around five hundred and fifty c, then?” Prescott asked.
“I cannot say for sure, Captain, but I cannot imagine a situation where he would be willing to leave so many of his ships behind. Unless …”
“Yes, Commander?”
“While I have not seen the specifics of Commodore Sarafi’s attack plan, based on the ships at his disposal I believe we can safely assume that he will execute a relatively conventional, extraorbital bombardment. By ‘conventional,’ I do not mean to imply that no nuclear weapons will be used — indeed, a great many will be required if his intent is to render the planet uninhabitable — but I would expect most of these will be in the form of nuclear-tipped artillery rounds like those fired by the older Rusalov-class battleships. This kind of ‘conventional’ attack requires a number of ships to remain in the general area of the target for a period of time. If, before the attack on Terra commences, Sarafi’s losses turn out to be heavier than expected, however, there is the possibility he might attempt to execute a ‘special weapons’ attack.”
“What, you mean like a chemical or biological weapon?” Reynolds asked.
“Biological, yes — horrifying, deplorable weapons, genetically engineered to target a specific species. Such abominations have been banned on Graca and aboard all Wek vessels for centuries, so, by extension the same has always applied to all Sajeth Collective ships. Research into weapons of this type has long been conducted by the Lesheerans, however, and occasionally proposed as a means of ‘compassionately’ ending a conflict by simply exterminating the enemy. The Lesheerans have often boasted that they possess the capability to very specifically target their weapons. They supposedly have the technology required to kill only those within a certain race, with a specific ancestor in their lineage, or even to target something as arbitrary as a physical characteristic such as eye color. Perhaps the most insidious characteristic of these weapons is that they leave the enemy’s territory — in this case the entire planet — fully intact and ready for colonization.”
“Dear God,” Reynolds muttered to herself.
“So you believe the leaders of the Resistance may have decided to ignore the long-standing ban and equip Sarafi’s ship with these biological weapons?” Prescott asked.
“I have no specific information on the subject, but it would not be a surprise to me if that were the case. The Lesheerans typically remain in lockstep with their closest ally, the Damarans. Representatives from these two worlds on the Sajeth Collective Governing Council were the original instigators behind the Resistance movement.”
“Thank you, Commander Takkar,” Prescott said earnestly, “I think we’ve heard enough for now, but I’m sure we will have additional questions for you later. With any luck, the information you have provided will save countless lives — both in the Sol system and ultimately in the Sajeth Collective as well. Now, for the time being, I would like you to continue coordinating with Captain Yagani aboard the Baldev. After he launches his comm buoy — which needs to happen immediately — you are to make it absolutely clear that we demand his unconditional surrender. Direct him to immediately recover all of his remaining fighters and stand by for further instructions. Beyond that, I would like you to render only the aid required to prevent the immediate loss of additional life aboard his ship. I want to make myself very clear on this point, because I’m sure the Baldev will require quite a bit of help from us over the next few days. For now, however, offer them whatever urgent assistance you can provide quickly, then stand off from the exclusion zone to the same general area as the Theseus. We are still in the process of recovering our own damaged fighters, so I believe our current location is far enough away to avoid an immediate attack in case the Zhelov and the Serapion elect to ignore Commodore Sarafi’s instructions. Do you have any questions for me?”
“Yes, sir. Have you received any communications from the other damaged cruiser, the Keturah?”
“We have not. We believe she jettisoned her reactor cores after being hit by the Baldev’s missile. Since then, we have seen only minimal energy readings from her, and there are indications of multiple hull breaches. We will do everything we can to help them once the Zhelov and the Serapion have cleared the area.”
Takkar paused momentarily, glancing downward as if gauging how best to respond. “Begging your pardon, sir, but since we are providing some minimal level of assistance to the Baldev, should we not extend the same courtesy to the Keturah? Theseus is the closer of our two vessels. Perhaps you can dispatch a shuttle of some sort to at least assess whether there are any survivors. If members of her crew are trapped in isolated areas, our providing emergency supplies may save many lives.”
Prescott thought for a moment about how the damaged F-373s would likely be stowed in Theseus’ hangar bay and whether it might still be possible to quickly launch two of their Gurkha Assault ASVs — or even the two Sherpas for that matter — without interfering with the ongoing recovery operation.
“Yes, of course, Commander. We’ll do what we can, but I don’t want either of us to risk additional lives in what may be a futile attempt at providing emergency aid. If the two battleships arrive while you are in close proximity to the Baldev, you are to transition to hyperspace, proceed to a safe distance, and contact me for further instructions.”
“Thank you, Captain Prescott. I understand what you have asked of me and I will join you shortly. We will also provide you with information regarding the Keturah’s external access points momentarily.”
“Move quickly, Commander. If possible, I don’t want you anywhere near the Baldev when those additional battleships arrive. Prescott out.”
“I assume you’ll want Lieutenant Jacks to handle the emergency relief op?” Reynolds asked, already issuing orders to prepare the required supplies for loading aboard one or more of their available ASVs.
“Yes, and I would prefer to send two of the Gurkhas, if possible, so they can at least have the option to C-Jump clear if they find themselves in a bad situation.”
“Understood. I’ll take a look at the current state of the hangar deck shortly,” she replied, looking up from her touchscreen.
Prescott paused to take a deep breath, then stared at his XO while slowly shaking his head in wonder at everything they had experienced over the past several days.
“You okay?” Reynolds asked quietly.
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just not too keen on all of these ‘fate of the world on your shoulders’ kinds of situations. You?”
“Same,” she smiled. “Knock on wood, but I think we’re doing fine so far. Besides, would you trust anyone else but us to deal with this mess?”
“Oh, hell no,” he replied, chuckling. “On that subject, did you see that it was Bruce Abrams leading the alpha strike at Location Crossbow? You remember him from the Live Fire Training Range, right? He had Diligence until about a week ago when Admiral Patterson transitioned his entire crew into the Karna the same way he did ours.”
“Ah, that’s right. I didn’t make the connection though. I guess the admiral has quite a bit of confidence in him, then?”
“I’d say so, yes. He’s a good man … and a solid choice for that mission. I’m also guessing his crew has more experience on the range than any other at this point, which is probably the other reason they were transitioned over to a Theseus-class. Okay, Commander,” he said, quickly refocusing on the urgent business still at hand, “what’s our status?”
“The good news is that there have been no significant changes since the last update from Commander Logan. Other than the damage to the shield system as well as the loss of two of our forward plasma torpedo tubes and two railgun turrets, we’re in surprisingly good shape. All other systems in the green. C-Jump range 101.1 light years and stable.”
“Remarkable,” Prescott replied, shaking his head again. “And where are we on recovering the damaged fighters?”
“When Flight Ops realized what kind of shape they were
in, they went ahead and did an emergency egress and recovery for all four pilots. They all appear to have made it through their ordeal just fine, but they’re being checked out in the medical bay just in case. Recovering their Reapers, however, has been a little more difficult than expected. We’ve got remote maneuvering units attached to all four, so getting them to the aft flight apron hasn’t been a problem, but they all pretty much look like they’ve been dropped into a meat grinder. With so much damage, most of their systems aren’t working at all. Just as an example, we finally got the first two aboard and stowed, but their wings wouldn’t fold up properly, so they had to be removed.”
“Removed … you mean as in disassembled?”
“No, removed as in detached from their fuselages using plasma torches.”
“Hmm … well it’s obviously preferable for us to recover the spacecraft, if possible, but if we find ourselves under attack again, discontinue the effort immediately and have the AI initiate a containment breach on any remaining fighters as soon as we’re at a safe distance. We cannot risk having any of them captured, particularly one that’s still largely intact.”
“Understood. If you think I have time before our vidcon with Admiral Patterson, I’d like to head down to the flight deck and take a look for myself. There’s only so much you can see on a video monitor.”
“That’s probably a good idea, but make it quick.”
“Will do, sir,” Reynolds replied, already heading for the door.
“Lieutenant Dubashi, please signal Zhukov and Waffer and ask them to check in for an update as soon as they have a moment.”
“Aye, sir.”
Prescott took another deep breath, his mind still struggling to come to grips with the problem of prioritizing dozens of equally urgent matters, each one demanding his immediate and undivided attention. The task that grabbed his attention next, however, made him laugh inwardly at his apparent inability to determine precisely what to do next.
“Lieutenant Lee, can you please reset the hull impacts counter? I think we may have broken it,” he said, nodding to the starboard view screen. Since the nearly catastrophic encounter with the two Carrada Area Denial Weapons pods — which had largely taken the ship’s shield systems offline — the AI had no longer possessed the capability to register an accurate count of weapons impacts on the outer hull. The counter, now flashing red beneath the tactical plot, still displayed the final count from the moment Theseus had plowed through the deadly cloud of fragments.
“Oh, yes, sir, no problem,” Lee responded. “It’s no longer getting data, so I can just disable it.”
“Thanks, it’s a little distracting for some reason. Is that count accurate, by the way?”
Lee took notice of the number for the first time, which stood at thirty-three thousand two hundred and forty-two. “Wow, that’s pretty impressive, but, yes, it probably was accurate up to the point where most of the shield emitters and sensors got stripped off the hull. I’m sure once we’re back at Yucca, they’ll be able to provide an accurate count of total impacts. Clearly, Science and Engineering will need to head back to the drawing board on hardening those key components, particularly against fragmentary weapons like the ones we encountered.”
“That would be great, but we’re still alive, so you’ll get no complaints from me.”
“Captain,” Lieutenant Dubashi interrupted, “message from the Flag, sir — text only. It reads: ‘Continue salvage and rescue operations, as practicable, but do not, repeat do not engage in further combat operations unless TFC reinforcements arrive your location. If additional enemy forces arrive first, destroy all damaged TFC assets and C-Jump back to Earth immediately. Vidcon with Flag at 0815Z.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant. Please acknowledge all,” Prescott said, gratified once again by Patterson’s unfailing ability to provide the information he knew his commanders needed without interfering with their ability to do their jobs.
“Will do, sir. I now have Captain Zhukov and Commander Waffer standing by.”
“Thank you. Put them through please.”
“Aye, sir,” Dubashi replied, issuing the required commands at her console before nodding to indicate a live audio connection.
“Badger flights, Theseus-Actual.”
“Badger 21 … Badger 22,” came the immediate replies from Waffer and Zhukov, respectively.
“Captain Zhukov, all four of the pilots from your disabled fighters are now safely aboard Theseus. They are getting checked out in medical, but all four appear to be fine.”
“That is indeed good news, Captain Prescott. Thank you.”
“Commander Reynolds is down on the flight deck checking in on the recovery operation. Hopefully, we will have all four of their ships secured in our hangar bay shortly. Do you have any additional spacecraft in need of assistance?”
“Negative, sir,” Commander Waffer answered. Even though he was junior to Captain Zhukov, he remained in command of Badger 2 Flight, which had now absorbed all of Badger 1’s remaining six operational fighters.
“We do have six ships that are ‘Winchester,’ however,” Waffer reported, indicating that the fighters had expended all of their primary ordnance. “Captain Zhukov’s ship is one of those, sir. Recommend we go ahead and send them back to their carriers for a quick turn.”
“Agreed. I will, of course, leave it up to you to decide whether to double-turn the pilots or swap them out for crew rest, but it’s likely we’ll need their fighters flying around the clock for the foreseeable future.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll take a look at who we have on deck before sending them back out.”
“Very good. Any change in the Baldev since the shooting stopped?”
“Nothing significant, no. We’ve been monitoring their recovery operations since Captain Yagani signaled his surrender.”
“We were surprised by the number of fighters she had onboard. What was the final count?”
“They launched a grand total of five three, of which we destroyed two niner. Based on the size of the ship, I’m guessing that has to be something close to their total complement. As far as we can tell, the fighters themselves are a lot like our Hunters, but a little larger and more heavily armed.”
“Unmanned then?”
“As far as we can tell, yes, and with no shielding. They’re tough, though — fast and highly maneuverable. All but seven of them are now back aboard the Baldev. We have no way of knowing whether they are intentionally dragging their feet on recovery ops, but one of their flight aprons appears to have been completely destroyed, so it’s not surprising that it’s taking them a while to embark the remaining fighters.”
“They’re short on power as well,” Prescott observed. “Just keep an eye on them for us and let us know if anything changes.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, one other thing, the Baldev will be launching some sort of communications buoy shortly. In short, it’s supposed to notify their two additional battleships due to arrive shortly that they are to immediately depart for Earth.”
“I see,” Waffer replied. “Is that a good thing?”
“Well, no, not really,” Prescott chuckled, “but in our current state, we would stand very little chance against two more ships like the Baldev. Sending them on their way gives us a little time to tie up some loose ends here and then face them as a combined fleet near Earth.”
“That sounds like a bad idea on a number of levels, but I don’t suppose we have much of a choice at this point. Do we know how long it will take for them to arrive at Earth once they leave here?”
“If we assume their commander, Commodore Sarafi, intends to attack with all of the forces he has at his disposal, we should have just over four eight hours. If he presses on with only his fastest ships, it cuts that time in half.”
“And do we have any reason to believe he would do that?” Waffer asked.
“The truth is that we have no idea what he plans to do. I suspect Admiral Patterson will be preparing for the w
orst case scenario, but given that the Guardian is still in the area, it seems logical to me that Sarafi will want to utilize every ship he has at his disposal during the attack.”
“Agreed. Do you have any other instructions for us?” Waffer asked.
“No, that’s all I have for you at the moment. I assume you will both be joining Admiral Patterson’s vidcon at 0815Z?”
“That’s affirmative, Captain.”
“Very good. Thank you, gentlemen. Prescott out.”
Chapter 12
TFS Navajo, Earth-Sun Lagrange Point 2
(0815 UTC - Combat Information Center - 1.5x106 km from Earth)
“Okay everyone, Admiral Patterson is attending to some last minute business, so he asked me to get our briefing started. I think I’ve probably met most of you before, but I’m Flag Captain Ogima Davis of the admiral’s flagship, TFS Navajo. As usual, this vidcon is classified Top Secret, code word MAGI PRIME. All recipients of this data stream are responsible for ensuring that a secure environment, appropriate for this classification level, exists at your location.
“I’m going to run through a quick overview of what has been taking place over the past twenty-four hours. In the interest of time, I’ll be glossing over or simply leaving out most of the details, but please hold your questions until the end, if you would. In summary, combat operations have been taking place against elements of the Pelaran Resistance task force at two separate locations. The first, Location Dagger, is roughly three and a third light years from Earth and is the site of the enemy’s original rally point. The second, Location Crossbow, is just under twenty-three light days from the original rally point at Location Dagger and was being used by the Resistance as a secondary staging area after their first was discovered by one of our Hunter recon flights.”
