"It's just like any seaport back home," Salazar said to David as they watched through Cobra's best telescope. "Stuff comes in, you take it off the boat, put it in the marshalling yard, and then someone else comes along and hauls it off to wherever it's needed."
They looked at the large spherical structures on the opposite side of the landing complex.
"Meantime, they're refueling," David pointed out.
"Right, Lieutenant. Get the cargo off, get gassed up, maybe load a fresh crew, and go back for more."
"Simple."
"Yeah, but maybe not so simple for whoever it is that's producing this shit."
"Agreed."
Margie Nixon and Steve Kirby continued to accumulate images in both IR and Visual, and as they did, a clear pattern began to emerge. On one continent, the 'west' as they called it, there was a large city with connected sub-cities. On the 'east' continent there was far less population but many more industrial facilities.
The central city in the west was roughly circular, about fifty kilometers in diameter. From it, spaced equally around the circumference, flowed five large highways that ran straight for 250 kilometers. On each highway, at an equal interval of about fifty kilometers, there was a smaller sub-city about twenty kilometers in diameter. From each sub-city, in turn, ran two highways to yet-smaller cities about twenty-five kilometers away. Each of the five highways from the central city eventually ran through five sub-cities. Around the highways and the cities were large areas of green. They appeared to be forests but were dense enough that neither Nixon or Kirby could say with any confidence whether they were natural or planted.
They presented their findings to the assembled Intel staff the next morning.
"There must be millions of them, sir. Millions." Steve sat back down after his presentation to Evans, Ballard, and Powell.
"Do we know what they're bringing in?"
"No, sir. The packages come off the ships and then into a distribution network. We never see what it is."
"Where do they go?"
Margie looked up from her notes. "All over, sir. Smaller vehicles — trucks I guess — pick up the packages and then proceed over the highways."
"To where?"
"We haven't tracked them all the way to a destination yet, Captain. We're working on it."
"David, where are we with the ship population?"
"Well, sir, we've now determined that there are two sets of vessels arriving. There are the cargo ships that Margie and Steve have been tracking, and then there appear to be warships assembling."
"Assembling?"
"Yes, over the last week about twenty cruisers of various types have arrived and taken up station in groups."
"Can you see where they came from?"
"No. I suspect maybe they refueled at that facility we saw in the belt, then came here for some kind of staging."
"Staging for what?"
David shrugged. "There was a report from FleetIntel of a long message from here on January 17. There was a lot of speculation about what that message might mean. If it was some kind of recall, we could be seeing that."
"But truthfully, we don't know," Jack Ballard added, "and I don't see how we could, sir. We don't know what they have in mind."
David nodded. "For all we know, sir, they're just coming home for Christmas."
"Or, they could be putting together a task force for a major attack."
"Or that, yes, sir."
It happened quickly, transforming a watch shift that started off completely routine. David was sitting Center, with Ray Salazar and Gregg Browning monitoring the data feeds. Over the last week, they had watched the enemy cargo ships regularly coming and going, each spending about two days on the ground. Evans dropped the routine staffing to three, with everyone else available should some unusual event occur. As they moved in a wide, lazy orbit, they found several accumulations of enemy ships. All four known types were represented, including five of the enormous Type II's that they thought were invasion ships.
David was watching the visual feed showing him several enemy ships as they seemed to be forming yet another group, as the XO, Communications Officer Elaine DeLeon came into the Intel Operations Center.
David looked up to see DeLeon watching the large visual display where this new group was gathering.
"Fifty ships?"
"In total, yeah. Eleven in this bunch. Unbelievable."
"They've been at this for a long time, don't you think?"
David glanced at the visual, then the IR station, before responding. "Yes, I think so. I just wish we knew the full extent of their empire."
"Empire?"
"I don't know what else you'd call it. They hit Inor and Big Blue with the intent to invade and subjugate, right?"
"I guess, sure."
"So, they were too well prepared to not have done that before, and done it successfully."
"Hmm. Maybe."
"So, somewhere, I think, there have to be other species that these shitheads have conquered."
"Do you think that's what the cargo ships coming and going is all about?"
"Yeah, I do."
Ray Salazar stood up abruptly. "They're leaving."
"What?"
"They're leaving." He pointed to his IR display. "First, this group went about three minutes ago, then this one just left."
David slapped the alarm button, and the speakers throughout the ship blasted three loud, deliberately annoying sounds. Evans left the bridge and came into the Operations Center at full speed.
"What?"
Ray turned from his displays and repeated himself. "They're leaving,"
The noise level in the room rose rapidly as more analysts crashed through the doors and took up positions.
David handed them assignments as they arrived. "Ray, you want to stay on the IR?"
"Yes."
"OK, Margie, pick up the RF station. Gregg, stick with the visual." He stood up in the raised center console. "Keep your heads, everyone. Just focus on what data you're working and don't worry about what else is going on."
The phone buzzed, and David picked it up.
"Powell." He listened for a few seconds, his face showing increasing concern. "Where?" He put his hand over the microphone and called to Gregg Browning. "Gregg! Rodgers says there is a group headed almost right at us. 322 minus 15."
David switched his monitor to the regular Surveillance feed, and there they were: eight enemy ships seen head-on.
Rich Evans looked over his shoulder. David looked back at Evans, then the display, then back.
"So, maneuver?"
Evans looked at David, then back to the approaching ships. "Not yet. They're still at least a million klicks away. I doubt they've seen us."
"But, sir, seen us or not, if they go FTL right through us there's going to be a lot of paperwork to do back at Fleet."
Evans grinned. "I always did like your sense of humor, Powell." He looked back at the display, serious again. "I think they're going to pass behind us." Evans reached over the counter and picked up the phone.
"Surveillance...yes, Myra, it's Rich...looks to me like they'll pass behind us a bit, don't you think?" As he spoke, Evans kept his eyes on the approaching ships. "OK, very good, thanks." He hung up and looked over at David.
"She agrees. So, we dodged a bullet here."
"They're going to pass by awfully close, sir."
"Well, Powell, we could rig for silent running, but there's no sound in space."
"Point made, Commander."
Gregg Browning interrupted their banter. "Another group is throttling up, Lieutenant!"
"That's three in less than ten minutes," David said.
Jack Ballard had come into the Operations Center right after the alert and sat with Ray Salazar on the IR data feed.
He stood and came to Center Console.
"Before all this started there were six major groups of enemy ships. Three have already left, and we can see IR changes on the last three.
Something is happening, something very big."
David nodded. "There were fifty warships here a few minutes ago, sir. If Jack is right, they'll all be gone shortly."
They all looked at Evans, who was watching the visual of the group approaching them as if he wasn't quite as convinced as he sounded that they were going to move on by. He tapped his fingers nervously on the console's side counter. Finally, he broke his focus and looked at the brain trust around him.
"We're faster than they are. SLIP is faster than they are."
"Neither seems to be quite fast enough when it counts, Commander," Jack said quietly.
Evans looked at him, then back at Powell. "If we leave now, we won't know the full extent of what's happening."
"Sir, even if we stay, we can't see what's at Enemy Station. We still won't know."
"Yes, Powell, I understand, but we're here now. So, we're going to wait until they've all left. Then we'll have a number we can give to Fleet. That should give them enough time to cover Inor and Earth, at least."
"What about Big Blue?"
"The ships there will get the warning, but it might be too far for CINC to send them any help."
"That sucks."
Evans nodded. "So much about this war sucks, to be sure."
Ray Salazar called Ballard back to his position, and they held a fast, animated conversation. Jack turned back to Center. "David, pull up Data Eight."
David displayed the data set.
"Oh, shit," Evans said, looking over his shoulder. Salazar had taken the IR tracking through a reverse navigation process, from which he derived some very uncomfortable conclusions.
"One to Inor, two to Earth," Jack said, saying aloud what they were all reading in the data.
"What types?" Evans asked.
"No Type II's, sir, if that's what you're wondering."
"It is."
Ballard answered, "Those are still here, but from what Ray is saying they're powering up."
David leaned back in his seat. "Why would they go to Earth? They can't possibly win there."
Evans shrugged. "I don't know, but wherever they're going, we need to get there first."
Ballard watched another group of enemy ships depart. "We've been searching for months, and now that we've finally found them..."
David let out a cynical laugh. "Yeah, too bad they seem to have found us, too."
As they watched over the next several minutes, the rest of the enemy task forces set their courses and were gone. One to Beta Hydri which included the Type II invasion ships. One more each to Earth and Inor. There could no longer be any question about what was happening. Evans had a grim look on his face as he left the Operations Room to draft a message to the fleet. Len Davis had seen that same look on the walk back into Inoria a year earlier.
After Evans headed forward, David leaned back in his chair, wondering about Carol, and about Antares, but, honestly, mostly about Carol. Antares could carry more Marines than other ships, as could Intrepid. They might already be at Beta Hydri to provide more security for the Seekers. To David, that meant she'd be much more likely to find real trouble, and soon. Carol could handle a rifle as well as anyone, and as Weapons Officer, she might be one to jump into a fight. He loved that about her, that streak of reckless abandon that would show up from time to time in her normally well-controlled mind. On the one hand, he hoped she would be more cautious, but on the other, he knew that would not be like her. He looked up to see Ray Salazar's eyes on him. He'd clearly been watching David as he wrestled with his feelings about Carol.
"Hansen?"
"Yes, Mr. Salazar. Guilty as charged."
Ray Salazar nodded. "I understand. But, meanwhile, Lieutenant?"
"Meanwhile, Mr. Salazar, meanwhile, we fight."
The screens and data feeds went dark as they slipped into FTL, Cobra vibrating as she pulled out at flank speed towards Beta Hydri.
For now, there would be nothing more to watch.
A deadly race was on, and it was a race they could hardly afford to lose.
Acronyms
Acronyms are everywhere these days, and the world of this series is no exception. Some people seem to love to hate acronyms, some just plain hate them. Whichever you might be, here's a handy list of the acronyms used in Silver Enigma and Silver Search,
Term
Definition
Actual
When used in a message address or sender name, indicates message is to only, or directly from, the commander personally.
ASV
Autonomous Surface Vehicle. A completely self-driving electric car.
AU
Astronomical Unit. Nominally, the average distance from the Earth to the Sun, roughly 93 million miles, or 150 million kilometers.
BOQ
Bachelor's Officers' Quarters. Sort of a permanently temporary motel on base.
CDR
Commander, same as NATO/US rank. Silver oak leaf insignia.
CINC
Commander in Chief
CPT
Captain, same as NATO/US. Silver eagle insignia.
EMR
Electro-Magnetic Radiation, which includes heat, light, and radio waves. Fleet ships are heavily shrouded to keep their heat and other EM radiations low. Stealth is their friend. There are movable EMR covers to insulate the bridge windows when necessary.
ENS
Ensign, same as NATO/US rank. Single gold bar insignia.
ETA
Estimated Time of Arrival
FDR
Flight Data Recorder. All ISC Fleet ships have an FDR which records the last 24 hours of sensor data, communications, and Bridge conversations.
FPI
Forstmann Propulsion, Inc., the company that builds and operates all Forstmann Drive systems.
FTL
Faster-than-Light
GLxx
GJ xx
One or the other of the Gliese star catalog designations.
IR
Infra-Red, a wavelength of light longer than red, generally perceived as heat.
ISC
International Space Council, the governing body for the mining companies and sponsor of the Fleet.
KIA
Killed in Action
Lazy Dog
A sharp, dart-like anti-personnel weapon dropped from high altitude. Many were dropped on Inoria in the early moments of the enemy's attack.
LCDR
Lieutenant Commander, same as NATO/US designation. Gold oak leaf insignia.
LT
Lieutenant. NATO/US equivalent is a Lieutenant Junior Grade. Single silver bar insignia.
NetLink
A wrist-worn health monitor, tracking, and communications device.
NLT
Not Later Than
OIC
Officer In Charge
Ops
Operations, usually referring to the Admiral who is the Chief of the Operations Section.
PCH
Pacific Coast Highway. The Antares crew nicknamed the coastal highway that ran along the ocean the entire length of the Seekers' territory the 'PCH.'
PIO
Public Information Officer.
RADM
Rear Admiral. One Star.
RFG
Rods From God. These are telephone-pole-sized inert heavy metal projectiles dropped from space. Their mass and speed create their lethality.
RTB
Return To Base
RTG
Per Wikipedia, a radioisotope thermoelectric generator is an electrical generator that converts the heat released by the decay of a suitable radioactive material into electrical energy. Many deep space NASA probes like the New Horizons mission use RTGs because they are too far from the Sun to use solar panels.
Sentinel
A surveillance drone invented in FleetIntel, originally named the 'Info-Mine.'
SFU
Space Fleet University. This is the service academy for Fleet.
SLIP
&
nbsp; The FTL communications technology used by the ISC Fleet. A SLIP message traverses a light-year in 90 minutes. This speed has a price: the bandwidth is very low and messages are similar to text, more like a WW II teletype or Morse code message.
SLT
Senior Lieutenant. In the US Navy this would be just a Lieutenant, or earlier, Lieutenant Senior Grade. Two silver bars.
Slug
Fleet slang for a heavy, Cobalt-infused self-contained breathing device, basically a Scuba for walking around on alien planets that might want to kill you with their bacteria.
Sol
A Sol is a solar day on a planet other than Earth. On Mars, a Sol is 24 hours, 39 minutes, 35 seconds. Sols are generally counted from the time a lander arrives. Fleet adopted this convention for measuring the days on Beta Hydri (d) 'Big Blue,' where the planet turns in 47 hours and 15 minutes.
TDOA
Time Difference Of Arrival. This is a method for locating the source of a radio signal by accurate timing of when the signal is received at multiple well-defined locations. Used in reverse, this is how your car GPS works.
UTC
Coordinated Universal Time. This used to be known as Zulu time or GMT.
UV
Ultra-Violet, a wavelength of light given off by the sun (see also sunburn) and some artificial light sources.
WO x
Warrant Officer. The Warrant officer ranks fall between enlisted and commissioned officers. They are typically addressed as 'Mister' or 'Ms.' The insignia is Saturn, with a number of rings corresponding to the grade.
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