Sovereign Protocol

by Will Crudge

He would be given more money than he could ever spend in a life-time… but that didn’t matter to Morgan much at all. In his many decades of service, he’d hardly touched his meager Soldier’s pay. Between savings and compounding interest, he already had more money than he would ever need. He only wanted power… authority… recognition.

  His years of scheming with his Crimson benefactors, went completely unnoticed. Ever Soldier was either actively or passively monitored at all times, via the status array that linked with their neural interfaces. However, Lilly had managed to mask and alter how Morgan’s array reported. Any actions that would register as self-serving would be reported immediately. Soldiers that demonstrated high levels of leadership talent, and a self-less pattern of behavior, were selected for Acting Command positions. Military leaders that made decisions that only benefitted themselves were more prone to getting people killed. The last War of Humanity was riddled with atrocities that stemmed from self-promoting military leaders that sacrificed the lives of their own men and women… and countless civilians… just to inflate their own resumes. They used human beings as cattle in order to satisfy their inflated egos. But Morgan was free to operate without fear of consequences. The Crimson Alliance knew that once this wretched man got a taste of operational freedom, that he would become an addict of power… and the perfect puppet.

  “Sergeant Major?” Acting Staff Officer Serge spoke. Morgan hated that he was called by the rank on his status display, and not just Sir… But all acting officers were either addressed by their recognized core rank, or by the title of their position. The use of Sir was reserved for senior government officials… It would take the state of war vote to happen, before acting officers would become actual officers. Only then could Morgan hear himself addressed as he felt he deserved to be.

  “Yes, Master Gunny?” Morgan replied. He knew he needed to maintain his façade a while longer. None of the UAHC personnel on his command staff, aside from the Chimera infested AI’s that covered his tracks, knew of his treachery.

  “The two fighters are pinging IDENT’s,” Serge said, as he turned his eyes from his holographic display and looked towards the Acting Fleet Marshal. “One is pinging a UAHC registration of… Fleet Marshal Darius?” The Master Gunnery Sergeant was authentically confused. Not only was he speaking to the man that was actually in that position, but he had never seen that title used without the Acting term at the beginning.

  “Pirates have been known to have a sense of humor, Master Gunny.” Morgan answered dismissively. He walked up to Serge’s workstation and set his eyes on the display. The Master Gunny turned to look back at the display as well.

  “Do you think it’s a Crimson attack?” Serge ask, and then tilted his head in confusion. “These IDENT’s don’t show the normal signatures of phony transponder signals.”

  “Good observation, Serge.” Morgan gave him a slight tap on Serge’s back, as if to congratulate the man’s keen intellect. “They’ve already taken out six drone fighters, crippled a dozen more, and blown right passed them too fast for the remaining squadron to reengage. It’s not likely pirates have that kind of tech.”

  Serge nodded. Morgan read the man’s expression, and he was confident he bought the farce. “These hulls are something I’ve only read about… They’re LRF-90’s! I can’t see pirates having the resources to acquire priceless tech like that. If those fighters are fully operational, then they are a significant threat.”

  “I concur.” Morgan nodded. He was pleased that he didn’t have to sell the threat to his staff. He barely was able to hide the full length and breadth of the Crimson forces that were lurking in UAHC space as it was. He and his stable of subverted AI’s had only revealed enough INTEL to force the civil government to call the emergency vote.

  “They appear to be in a DECEL maneuver, but their velocity is still too high for a kinetic attack.” Serge asserted. Morgan knew full well what kinetic meant. It was any engagement option that involved physical projectiles such as, missiles, rail-guns, or any physical projectile that wasn’t energy based. “Even the particle beam arrays in orbit aren’t rated to hold focused energy on targets that small. They’re designed for larger ships.”

  Morgan already knew all this, but he allowed Serge to speak. He felt it was important for his command crew to be able to speak freely. If he scoffed the man’s obvious revelations, then he may threaten his fine-tuned portrayal of a benevolent leader. “You are correct, once again.” Morgan acknowledge. “Our best play is to let them enter the ionosphere. Even the overpower shielding LRF’s are supposed to have are limited on their generator capacity. If they hit the atmosphere too fast, then their shield’s charge will drop too low to resist a barrage from anti-aircraft batteries. They’ll have to DECEL abruptly. When they do, they’ll lose their speed advantage and our drone squadrons will envelope them.”

  Serge’s eyes got wide. “So… we let them enter Earth’s airspace?”

  “Can you think of an alternative?” Morgan replied and leaned back with his eyes half open. Serge recognized the body language, and decided he shouldn’t answer. But it did make sense. The atmospheric drone squadrons were remotely piloted by powerful AI’s that wouldn’t be as predictable as the autonomous deep space drones. The two craft would be outnumber 100 to 1, and have to contend with piloting skills that could react in picoseconds… at least it could if they AI’s were physically onboard. The control signals would have slight delay, but the AI’s knew how to mitigate the sluggish response. They relied on advance predictive algorithms that could compensate for the signal propagation. The two super fighters wouldn’t stand a chance.

  “Master at Arms!” Morgan looked up and shouted toward one of the two entrances to the CIC. His eyes were met by an imposing man in full armor.

  “Yes, Sergeant Major!” The man sounded off, and then walked towards the Acting Fleet Commander. Morgan watched the towering man come forward. He thought this man would have made a good Soldier, but even some of the most promising candidates never made it past the first year of training… let alone the following fourteen. The Master at Arms was the title given to the senior security detail commander. In his security firm, his rank was Lieutenant Colonel, and his shiny stylized silver oak leaf insignia almost made Morgan jealous. But Morgan knew the man was Crimson through and through. As was the rest of the fifty some odd security guards that had been contracted to secure the facility.

  “Colonel Peterson, I’ll need your men to take their emergency positions. We have two potential Crimson vessels inbound, and I want to make sure they don’t set foot on Earth soil… But you can never be too sure.” Morgan spoke as if he was in complete control. The Nordic looking man could have been a Viking. Lt Col Peterson was tall, broad chested, and had sharp angular features that betrayed his Northern European decent. His sculpted skull was topped off by short blond hair.

  “Very well, Sergeant Major.” Peterson turned to look at another grey uniformed man that stood several meters behind him. The guard nodded and began to talk into a communications device mounted on his left forearm.

  “I can have… reinforcements on standby as well.” Peterson leaned in as he spoke. Morgan knew what he really meant, and nodded in agreement. The tall man said nothing, and turned to walk towards the door.

  “Update on our attackers, Master Gunny?” Morgan turned back to Serge’s workstation.

  “They’ve entered the upper atmosphere, and are slowing down as you predicted.” Serge replied, while keeping his eyes on his displays.

  “Launch all atmospheric squadrons… but give them a wide berth…. I want the air defense batteries to take a shot first.” Morgan spoke with a sinister tone.

  “WHAT THE…” Serge’s eyes got even wider than before.

  “Speak!” Morgan sneered, then hunched himself over to get a close view of the display.

  “Sovereign IDENT tokens!” Serge was in disbelief.

  ***

  “Incoming missiles.” Kindle calmly spoke over the audio net. D
arius wondered if both NAV’s were designed to speak calmly during stressful situations to ease the minds of their human pilots, or if they’d seen so much combat that they were just too battle-hardened to get nervous.

  “Air defense batteries are powering down, but the missiles are still coming.” Doom added. “Looks like they intentionally launched older ordinance that don’t have a self-destruct mechanism.”

  “No. All atmospheric based missiles have self-destruct features… too high of a chance for collateral damage if they re-acquire civilian craft, or crash onto population centers. Chances are, the ground crews physically removed them. Otherwise the PTAISM would have taken control and detonated them after they received my sovereign tokens.” Val corrected.

  “You transmitted tokens?” Darius asked.

  “Yes. I knew they would get one volley in before the PTAISM shut down the launchers.” Val answered, calmly as usual.

  “The Acting Fuck-tard probably figured his command crew would know something wasn’t right if the missiles detonated after the tokens were received. The subverted AI’s can hide the launcher status from the HQ, but they can’t do anything about visual and radar scans.” Sam pointed out.

  “Exactly, my dear.” Val acknowledged. “But… those big nasty missiles were furnished by Unum… and their current owners probably have no idea that they’ve been pre-programmed to disarm their warheads within 10 kilometers of any Unum IDENT signal.”

  “That’s deliciously evil!” Darius chuckled. Surely enough, once the missiles closed within ten clicks of the pair of fighters, the NAV’s both confirmed that the explosive charges were scanning as inert. Moments later, the projectiles merely disintegrated on impact with the fighters’ energy shields.

  “So… remind me why we didn’t do the magic trans-dimensional thingy closer to Earth?” Sam asked. “I mean, if you can choose what part of space to emerge in, then why not jump straight to the landing pads outside of HQ?”

  “Good question.” Darius nodded.

  “A few reasons.” Val replied.

  “Keep it short this time… Drones popped up on scan.” Darius urged.

  “Of course…” Val sent a digital wink to Darius’ HUD. “Not too many living beings… artificial or biological… know I can do that. I almost never do it, in any case…. I needed to select one of only a few spots in Sol System that wasn’t being actively scanned for energy bursts or visual imagery. I can’t afford to let this capability be known, lest Unum turns into the greatest strategic target of all time. Plus, the energy burst that jumping causes on both ends is extreme. The vacuum of space doesn’t have much matter floating around, so it’s relatively safe… but the sudden release of energy in atmosphere can have undesired consequences on anything around.”

  “Makes sense.” Darius nodded. “Even if none of the rest of it does.”

  “Drones… three full squadrons… locations, projected trajectories, and velocities on HUD’s.” Doom interjected. Darius snapped back to reality, and gripped his control stick firmly.

  “Any sign of your care package?” Darius remembered Val mention some sort of LRF variant, but they never got into the details. All he knew was that there was a friendly out there… and that friendly had an LRF that specialized in atmospheric tactics.

  “No, but he’s out there.” Val replied.

  “Are you sure?” Sam asked.

  “He’s sure.” Darius answered for him. Sam was still getting used to the idea that the two humans were mentally linked somehow. Darius couldn’t see Val’s specific thoughts, but he could read the frequencies and patterns well enough to anticipate Val’s answer with confidence.

  “LRF-90A’s can stay invisible to atmospheric sensors… at least until they power up their shields fully.” Doom explained. “They have powerful shielding that repulses atmosphere from causing drag. Not only does the shielding form a powerful wedge of energy, but it creates a near perfect vacuum directly behind it as the fighter picks up speed. The vacuum allows the LRF-90A to accelerate to impossible speeds that would require any other ship to achieve exo-atmospheric altitudes to match.”

  “That’s pretty nasty!” Sam exclaimed. “I suppose that our ally won’t be transmitting his IDENT, will he?”

  “No, he won’t.” Val answered.

  “Air to air missiles are acquiring targeting solutions.” Kindle announced.

  “But you’ve broadcasted your tokens! They certainly can’t fire without the PTAISM shutting them down, can they?” Darius asked, but with more concern than he had shown the last time they were engaged.

  “No, they can’t launch the missiles. The PTAISM won’t allow it. But they don’t need to. The PTAISM won’t stop the drones from trying to ram us… not as long as they transmit their emergency proximity warning. The PTAISM won’t register it as an intentional collision as long as the required safety signals are being broadcasted.” Val answered.

  “So, they just arm the missiles and let them point detonate on impact?” Sam asked.

  “Looks that way, lady.” Val answered. “We’ll have to outmaneuver them, and gun them down the old fashioned way.”

  “No awesome manufacturer’s back door?” Sam asked.

  “No, sorry. These drones aren’t Unum products… I lost the bid, sadly.” Val frowned as if he were capable of a negative emotion. “Their payload is from another competitor altogether. All we can do is shoot and scoot!”

  “First squadron will be in weapons range in 3… 2…” Doom didn’t finish the count audibly. He simply opened the weapons bay, and sent Darius a signal to indicate that the weapons were in manual mode.

  “Sneaky little bastards!” Kindle said with a hint of appreciation in her voice. Darius saw that there were at least fifty target tracks coming in to envelop them at a projected intercept point marked on the HUD. They were funneling the two fighters into an area below the stratosphere. The shuttering of the atmosphere reacting to the energy shield was getting loader. Darius knew he had to cut velocity in order to preserve shield capacity. He dialed back the throttle to nil, and then hit retro thrusters. The hull lurched in protest, but Darius knew that there was virtually no stress on the physical structure.

  “Fox One!” Darius reverted to his fighter pilot training. He was announcing Fire One, but using common pilot brevity.

  “Easy killer!” Doom’s voice broke into a chuckle. He decided mocking Darius was way more fun, now that the big man could hear his voice.

  The sound of mechanical release beneath the cockpit deck plate was loader than Darius expected it to be. He had training on using kinetic weapons in atmospheric engagements, but he never actually did it outside of a simulator. The thin air outside allowed the exaggerated sounds of the missile thruster engage with a muffled swoosh. Then a streak of fire raced towards a predetermined point in the airspace. There wasn’t anything there at the moment, but the heavy cluster of atmospheric drones would be pulling heavy G’s in a tight cluster, by the time the missile arrived. The limited speeds the two fighters could safely achieve in airspace, was supposed to be their weakness. However, Darius had a mental clarity that he had never known before. He could feel his brain being boosted by his connection to both Val and Shadow.

  The AI piloted drones were now supposed to have the upper hand… But their strength would now be their weakness. Even the immense processing power of AI’s couldn’t predict the eccentric tactics that Val’s brainwaves were projecting onto Darius.

  “These tin cans are making extra effort to making sure we see them heading right up at us.” Darius noted, as he watched the seconds tick down on his missile’s projected impact.

  “You ready?” Val asked.

  “Ready.” Darius replied.

  “Now!” Val shouted, than the two fighters jerked away from each other in perfect unison. The Blood-Reaper sped out in a wide arc, and then back inside its own original vector. It was now threatening to line up a shot on the few straggling drones that dotted the right flank of their parent formation. Blu
e streaks of energy shielded plasma bolts filled the airspace around the weakly formed flank. Impact indicators lit up on the HUD, which gave Val the feedback he was hoping for. The drones would now lose their initiative, and be forced to evade Val’s onslaught.

  The AI’s controlling the suicidal swarm had few options to take. The drone fighters were already straining for airspeed by trying to angle up and meet their target head on. This meant they had to gain altitude in order to force a collision. But they couldn’t predict the performance limitations of their ancient counterparts. It didn’t matter how intelligent the AI’s were… not knowing their enemy’s abilities would seal the fate of the drones.

  The swarm of fighters banked left in order to try and make their attacker over-shoot their formation, and then they just had to cling to Val’s tail… and wait for him to make a mistake.

  The cluster of drones had to tighten into an almost straight line in order to prevent colliding with one another. This is when the lead drone was struck head-on by Darius’ missile. There was a cascade of fireballs that erupted along the entire formation. It looked like the fuse of a firework being lit, and the fireball of drones hitting the debris field finally flamed out. Black smoke and trails of burning debris filled the sunny sky.

  ***

  “The drones are locked on, but they’re… not engaging?” Serge scratched his head. He suspected there was something off about this entire engagement. There had been plenty of time for at least two to three air defense vollies… but there had only been one. His status display showed launcher sites coded as green, and in weapons hold posture. They should have nailed the two small craft minutes earlier. It was odd enough that the first volley registered several direct hits, but the thermal scans didn’t reflect any detonations. A single dud missile was common… but an entire volley from multiple sites was statistically implausible. Now air to air missiles were sitting snug in their underwing racks, but had been within weapons range for nearly a full minute.