Sitting in the same VR cabin instance Captain Kree had on the Cousteau, with its low profile, utilitarian furniture and coffee table, the captain sat quietly for a minute and pondered the new pictures hanging from her wall. The first was of her old ship, the Cousteau, with its crew in the foreground. The pictures spread throughout the rest of the wall were of images taken from the Rheas System showing first contact with the Rheas and an image of Ambassador Dek when they finally accepted the terms of becoming a protectorate of Humanity. Discovering the Rheas was the highlight of her career. Even her trip to the Seventh Consortium and traveling on an alien ship was a distant second.
Coming back into the moment from her reflecting, the captain said, “Commander, it’s time to put your game face on and bury your feelings. The less you think about them, the better you will be able to handle it. I want you to immerse yourself in your work.” Her friendly tone was replaced by the tone of a commander giving orders. It was time for her XO to put his big boy pants on and deal with it. Observing him as she spoke, she paused and came to a decision, “I have a project for you. I want you to do an analysis on the distribution of Chzek-kin ships in those nine systems. See if there is some correlation between their deployment and where they might have entered those systems and backtrack the entry points to see if we can find a common origin. It’ll be subtle, and imprecise, but it may give us a direction to focus on now that we’re past their first picket line.”
Listening to the captain, LCDR Fox’s mind started immediately working on the problem and completely forgot about their entry into an enemy controlled system. This kind of analysis was something the commander loved and would keep him occupied during his idle time when his ship’s profile showed he was building the majority of his anxiety.
Monitoring the ship’s mental health was an important part of an exploration ship captain’s duties and the neural networks used on the ship provided detailed data on every crewman’s mental state with its constant monitoring.
“That’s it for now, XO. If you don’t mind, send in Gerald and Trent,” she said, dismissing the XO. Her coming conversation with the sensor and navigation officers would have included the XO, but she knew it was better to leave him out of the pre-mission planning until his anxiety was under control.
Telling the XO to send in the two junior officers was the most inefficient means on the ship for initiating communications in the virtual environment aboard the Nautilus, as the captain was well aware. However, finding ways for her crew to interact with each other was necessary for their mental health on a long patrol. It was too easy for a crewman to isolate themselves, even while on watch. Most times a crewman in distress was not even aware they were isolating themselves. The captain, when she reviewed the XO’s profile, saw the trend happening in his logs. He was withdrawing, and she could not allow that to happen. She was too good of a student of deep space psychology to allow what had happened to a handful of other crews during human’s time traveling in space. If the XO continued to withdraw it could lead to her losing the XO as a functioning crewmember and she could be forced to initiate emergency survival protocols on his EGG Habitat where her first officer would be placed in deep freeze until their return to Black Rock Three; it would be the end of his career.
The navigation and sensor officers looked at one another as they entered the captain’s Cabin through the same door, but from different instances in the VR world aboard the ship. Sensors coming from an analysis in an infinity model of the upcoming solar system, while Navigation entered from the main passageway leading from the bridge the captain used on her new ship as she did on the Cousteau.
“Have a seat, gentlemen,” the captain told her two officers in the gender-neutral vernacular of the Exploration Service.
As they took their seats, the captain looked at the sensors officer and asked, “What did you find?”
“The system is huge – Blue giant. Astro estimates it to be mid-life. There is not much chance of naturally occurring, higher life forms here. There are twenty-three planets, thirteen of which are gas giants, along with a few thousand planetoid sized objects in the outer system.”
Frowning the captain commented, “Sounds like a nightmare to search.”
“Most definitely.”
Turning to her navigation officer, Lt. Trent, the captain asked, “Have you put together a flight plan for the drones?”
“Yes, captain. We’re going to need all of them on this one if we want to have any chance of detecting anything other than a ship at full burn or a broadcaster.”
“Do you need the Nautilus to be part of the search?” she asked.
“It wouldn’t hurt,” he answered.
“I need a little more than, ‘it wouldn’t hurt,’ Lieutenant,” she said, becoming annoyed. He had a bad habit of not committing to an opinion.
Sitting up straighter in his seat, the navigator defended himself, “The system is just too big, Captain. Even using every drone we have we’re not going to be able to cover more than plus or minus twenty-eight degrees from the ecliptic. Adding the Nautilus will allow us to cover another couple percentage points.”
“Are there any places of interest outside of the search zone?” she asked, seeking a greater benefit. If there were no significant objects of interest outside of the ecliptic needing special attention, the captain was inclined to not to risk the ship by entering the system. Too many ships were already missing and assumed lost.
“We did detect a Mercury-sized planet at fifty-two degrees inclination. It is high mass, just past its aphelion and has a highly elliptical orbit,” he responded, knowing the information would be tantalizing to his commanding officer. She was first and foremost an explorer and the potential of it being a captured rogue planet was increased based on the irregular shape of its orbit; far out of the ecliptic and having a highly elliptical orbit.
“How far from the sun?” the captain asked. At aphelion the planet would be at its farthest point away from the local sun in its orbit. Being high mass likely meant it was heavy with metals and could be an ideal location for placing a manufacturing base.
“Right now it is at the outer limits of the system’s Oort cloud,” he responded, knowing the captain preferred the structural references of a solar system to give relative positions of objects rather than measured distance. Although every solar system’s anatomy was unique and all measured distances were relative, most systems had certain identifiable features and similar structures. Planets orbiting in a common plane, life zones, rocky planets, gas giants, Oort clouds, Kuiper belts, and heliospheres were all to be expected in a given system and could often be predicted according to the mass and energy output of the local star.
“Then that’s our destination. Have the drones go as planned and plot a course for us to pass out-system to the rogue planet at fifteen million miles,” the captain ordered, “What else do you have?” Receiving negative responses from both officers, the captain dismissed them with a request to send in the EO.
Chapter 24: Chzek-kin Command Battlecruiser, Behemoth, Waypoint System (Outer)
“Upload the target system map,” Admiral Tukool ordered from his position on the command platform of the Battlecruiser Behemoth. The Chzek-kin fleet commander sent a silent prayer, forbidden by the Chzek and punishable by death, to the missing crew of the scout ship, Keant, along with a blessing for their heroic effort to complete their mission with the deployment of the ship’s alpha drone. It was the Keant’s alpha drone that returned the scout data on the enemy system they were about to enter.
The data provided mapped an asteroid base and mining facility in the system, along with a number of enemy ships. Rather than entering the system and identifying the targets before firing, the admiral ordered a missile strike to precede them into the system; its victims selected from the alpha drone’s mapping of the system of the two facilities. Added to the missile strike on the base was a prospector’s strike for any ships the missiles were able to identify as they made their approach
. His orders were to destroy all enemy assets in the system to send the humans a message the Battle for Rheas was a fluke.
“All ship’s missiles are programmed, Admiral,” reported the fleet combat coordinator, having received reports from each of the sixty-six ships in the fleet he was responsible for. Only a single ship was outside of his control; the Chzek warship, Dominator. The Chzek gave orders, they did not take them. Even the lowest Chzek officer outranked the highest ranked Chzek-kin. The admiral watched the warship as it broke off from the rest of the fleet; its destination and mission unknown.
“Very well,” Tukool replied, before issuing his next order, “Prepare to launch the first salvo.” He waited for the counter marking time segments to reach zero before continuing, “Launch and reload.”
“All ships report ready to fire the second salvo,” reported the coordinator, sounding pleased the reports were made well in advance of the fleet’s best time in drills conducted during the transit to the system.
“Launch and reload for the third salvo,” the admiral ordered, once again. “Synchronize missile barrage navigation.”
“All missiles launched and drifting, Admiral. All missile AIs report positive system checks.” There was a brief delay before the combat coordinator reported the missile barrage was ready to be initiated, “Missiles synchronized, Admiral.”
Looking at his old friend and captain of his fleet’s command ship, the admiral wondered briefly how many of his ships wouldn’t be coming home. So long as we destroy the enemy base, it will be worth whatever losses we may have, he thought, understanding all too well the harsh penalties the Chzek were known to inflict on the families of ship crews who failed to complete their missions. There were rewards to be had as well. The families of the crew of the Keant would never want for anything.
Breaking out of his thoughts, the admiral looked next to his combat coordinator, “Execute barrage,” he ordered.
On the main screen each missile was indicated by a green marker. It was impossible to see the missiles without amplification or sensor system tags, even from a distance of only a few miles. The vertically aligned carbon nanotube black coatings of the missiles absorbed ninety-eight percent of light and were difficult to see even for a crewman on a spacewalk floating right next to the one hundred fifty-megaton nuclear abominations.
Only when the motors of all two hundred sixty-four missiles ignited and began their acceleration away from their launching ships was the admiral able to make out the faint light coming from their thrusters. “Report when they’re at sixty-six thousand miles,” he ordered.
Receiving the report of the missiles’ progress, the admiral gave his final orders in the initial phase of the battle, “Initiate maximum spatial compression for all missiles.” Once it was reported all missiles were operating normally, he gave the order for the fleet to slow its approach into the system, “Initiate maximum spatial expansion for all ships.”
In moments the distance between the fleet and missile barrage began to multiply itself as the ships expanded space ahead of them while the missiles were accelerating through compressed space due to the effects of their Epson Drives. The spatial distortion equipment, provided by the Chzek was a marvel of engineering for the Chzek-kin. Like the inertia dampener systems provided by their overlords, the Chzek-kin were prohibited from researching technologies related to the manipulation of space. Nearly all advanced technologies needed for space travel were denied them except as Chzek pre-built modules fitted to their ships.
“Report estimated separation from the fleet at time of impact,” requested the ship’s captain of his weapons officer. The captain’s crew and fleet command crew, although occupying the same space, were separate in their chains of command. The ship’s crew was in the forward section of the bridge while the admiral and his staff occupied a smaller section aft.
“Estimated twenty-one million standards separation, Captain,” was the immediate and satisfying response to the captain. At mid sub-light speed, the missiles should be striking their targets before our ships are even detected, he thought.
“Admiral Bilford to CIC,” announced Black Rock Three’s public address system.
“What the bloody hell is going on now!” shouted Bilford to no one in particular as he was interrupted from his morning workout. The admiral was in the middle of the first decent workout in almost fifteen months since the discovery of the Rheas. The base was a beehive of activity, expanding to double its previous size during that time. Sleep was not something the commander of the base had seen much of during that time and personal time for exercise was completely absent.
“Sorry, Sir,” the Combat Information Center Watch Officer replied, “We’ve received a detection notice from one of our outer system static drones. Drone OS-17 reports a large spatial distortion just outside the system in the direction of System 48134.”
Feeling a sense of dread upon hearing the report, the admiral made a snap decision and began to issue orders, “Order all docked ships to go to Ready One and prepare to get underway. Recall all personnel from liberty and notify all ships in-system via narrow beam we have an unknown threat incoming from that vector.” In many ways, it was an overreaction for a detection that far out. There was no way to know what the distortion was caused by and anomalies were not uncommon in the outer system where the local sun’s heliosphere interacted with the cosmic energy of deep space. However, the admiral was becoming more and more convinced by the reports of his picket ships in the solar systems between the Black Rock System and the Rheas system; the Chzek-kin were making a concerted effort to penetrate deep into Human space. He knew they would eventually be attacked. In his thinking, it was a foregone conclusion as Black Rock Three Base stood on the path to Earth.
“I’ll be in CIC in ten minutes. Keep me updated,” he finished as he exited the rarely used weightlifting room.
Seven minutes later the admiral entered the CIC and made his way over to his commander’s EGG Habitat. He stopped himself when he put his hand on the access panel and turned to the CIC room, choosing to walk into it, rather than into his EGG. There was no reason to get in an EGG Habitat and go through the uncomfortable process of transitioning from the atmosphere to Oxy-Flo when it was not yet confirmed if the system was under attack. All CIC and control personnel would transition to the habitats once the threat was confirmed. The use of the habitats on a free-floating asteroid was not needed for operations, but they did increase the survival rate from radiation exposure and kinetic strikes far beyond anything achievable in a location with an atmosphere needed for people to survive. In an attack the atmosphere of the entire base would be evacuated by sections into deep holding tanks to protect against explosive decompression in the event the integrity of the base was compromised.
Jacked into the neural net via his headset, Bilford accessed the data feed from Drone OS-17. The spatial distortion was clear, but there were no indications of backscatter contacts. Watching the distortion for the next thirty minutes, the admiral read off the rapidly dropping range to the anomaly and was just about to order a general alarm without seeing a definitive contact. The distortion was too regular in motion to be naturally made.
Precipitating the admiral’s decision, the sensor officer on watch announced, “Confirmed! We have backscatter contacts. They’re intermittent, but they’re there within the distortion.”
That was it, the admiral was convinced, “Order General Quarters. All docked ships are to get underway and take up defensive positions in the asteroid belt. Order all patrol ships to make best possible speed to intercept.”
After each order the CIC watch officer repeated the order back and acknowledged receipt with an, “Aye, aye.” No one in CIC moved from their watch stations as they waited for the watch rotations currently off watch to report so they could transition into the EGG Habitats without leaving any of the stations unmanned.
“Sir, Assistant Ambassador Geto has requested to speak with you,” the communications officer announced.
“Put him through.”
“Admiral, we have been monitoring your systems and concur with your conclusions. A large fleet is approaching in the spatial distortion. We have further analyzed your feed and believe a smaller anomaly is preceding the approaching fleet,” said the assistant ambassador, foregoing the customary greetings of humans.
“Do you have an estimate on what is making the smaller distortion, Ambassador?”
“It is either a large cloud of missiles or a second, smaller fleet. As we have not seen any backscatter contacts in the smaller distortion, it is more likely a missile attack.”
The admiral was not surprised by the Rool’s report; Mk VIIs did not have that kind of range, but the admiral already figured humans were fighting from behind technologically in this war. “Thank you for your report, Ambassador. What are your intentions for the Geto?”
“As you are aware, Admiral, we are unable to fire on Chzek-kin ships, except in self-defense. I intend to move the ship away from the station so it can be clearly seen by the approaching ships. If they are foolish enough to fire on us, we will engage. Otherwise, we will be limited to providing basic support.”
“I understand, Ambassador,” Bilford replied, understanding the limits placed on the Rool in its involvement in the war. The rules were designed to keep the Chzek from having an excuse to directly enter the war. That doesn’t mean he liked it, “Ambassador, would you mind taking up position in front of Asteroid I-21876?” he asked.
Looking away from the screen for a moment, the ambassador spoke briefly in a language the admiral could not understand. Receiving a reply, the ambassador quirked up a very human looking half-smile and granted the admiral’s request, “Yes, Admiral. I believe that would be an excellent location for us to be out of the way of the coming battle.”
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