Earth Interstellar_Proxy War

by Scott Olen Reid

  The admiral felt a moment of relief as the Rool ambassador just agreed to provide for the defense of the support ships in the system he ordered to hide around the asteroid. There were seven ships total, one of which was the hospital ship, XHS Mercy, “Thank you, Ambassador. Good luck and Godspeed,” he said, getting a small bow of the head from the Rool before the screen went blank.

  Admiral Bilford looked to the Ready Board, a full wall screen showing the status of every station on the base on one side and the status of every ship in-system on the other. Three ships showed red status icons, indicating they were unable to get underway. The admiral knew these to be the ships in the atmospheric dock for major repairs. Another handful were yellow, meaning they were docked, but preparing to depart the base. The remainder underway and showing green; their locations indicated by a grid coordinate system. Most ships were showing rapidly rolling grid coordinates as they moved through the system. They were the patrol ships and their coordinates changed almost too fast to read as they accelerated to intercept the enemy fleet.

  “Sensors, do we have a firm number yet?” the admiral asked.

  “Not yet, Sir. Quantum analysis is estimating four-zero to one-two-zero hostiles. That’s for the larger distortion. We have no estimate on the smaller distortion. The two are separating from each other rapidly. The large body is decelerating while the smaller is approaching point-five sub-light speed,” the sensors officer reported, providing further evidence the smaller body was a missile attack preceding the enemy fleet.

  Coming to a decision, the admiral began giving orders, “Target all missile platforms in that system quadrant on the smaller body. Set for anti-missile defense, proximity detonation. All platforms in the adjacent quadrants are to target the incoming fleet. Multi-volley. Empty the magazines, Mr. Prior,” he ordered, knowing they would need a little divine assistance for the incoming missiles. Anti-ship missiles were not effective against missile sized targets able to rapidly evade, but there was little choice. Sensors tended to momentarily lose their tracking due to the targets’ small size. That would not be a problem with the incoming fleet, however. Whoever the Chzek-kin has in that fleet is on a one-way ticket, thought the admiral.

  It was twenty minutes before the base fully transitioned all personnel into EGG Habitats. Even damage control teams would work from the habitats and use repair bots as was the practice on ships. The crews from the three ships in the atmospheric dock were ordered to board their ships, even though the ships were wholly reliant on shore power.

  Once all personnel were confirmed to be loaded into their EGGs, the entire station decompressed and stored its atmosphere in air tanks deep in the heart of the asteroid. To the personnel on Black Rock Three Base, the removal of the atmosphere made it clear the admiral considered the enemy attack to be a worst case event. Air was life, and the base could not afford to allow it to be blown into space by a breach.

  Admiral Bilford was standing on the base’s virtual bridge, still feeling the temporary panic that came from transitioning from breathing atmosphere to Oxi-Flo. He did not miss his days aboard exploration ships for just that reason. Having to intentionally drown yourself in the fluid a couple times a year was something he hated doing.

  “Vampires! Vampires! Danger close!” screamed one of the sensors technicians, snapping the admiral’s attention from the ill feelings he was having back to the battle at hand.

  Everyone in the VR command center snapped their heads up to the main display. Four red points flashed on the screen with a track line showing their course. The missiles were not on a vector to approach towards the base. Seeing the track, the admiral was relieved for himself, while desperately wanting to know where the missiles were going. There was nothing on the track line. Where did the missiles come from? They were well within detection range as danger close for missiles started at a million miles. The missiles should have been detected at up to three times that range.

  As the vampire missiles disappeared from the main overhead, the sensors technician shouted again, “Lost contacts!”

  Admiral Bilford began to growl, “Where’d they go! Find them!” He drilled himself for years during training simulations to not yell at his CIC staff. It just distracts them and rattles their nerves. Regaining his calm, the admiral ordered in a firm, but calm manner, “Report.”

  “Quantum Analytics is indicating a distortion surge just before they disappeared, Sir. We have no….”

  “Vampires!” shouted another of the sensors techs as the four missiles reappeared on the main screen, now with a different alignment and a million miles past the base from where they were a moments before.

  The new track line for the missiles showed their destination. The projected line of travel passed through Asteroid I-21876, where the support ships were hiding; the Rool ambassador’s warship would be the first ship in the path of the missiles. “Oh, shit,” said the admiral, momentarily losing his composure.

  Once again the missiles were lost from contact, this time with both sensors techs making the announcement in stereo. The admiral, knowing where they would be detected next, did not have to wait long as he stared at the icon of the Rool ambassador’s allied marked ship.

  A rippling flash blocked out the icons for the ambassador’s ship, the larger asteroid, and the support ships. From that distance, with the size of the flash, the admiral estimated the yield on the missiles must be in the hundreds of megatons. The spectrum analysis provided by the quantum analyzers was also off from the signature of what Human or Chzek-kin warheads were known to make when they detonated.

  “Activate all base defenses. We’re going active,” ordered the admiral without taking his eyes off the display. The enemy knew they were there and those missiles just told him they may not have the reaction time he expected to counter incoming missiles.

  Around the base’s perimeter, columns began to emerge from the rock of the asteroid. The columns extended three hundred feet into space and stopped. Moments later, a bright glow emanated from the ends of the columns as the base energized the inertia dampener shields covering the base. When active, the dampeners projected the dampening force fifty miles into space as they were several orders of magnitude more powerful than a ship’s shields.

  Active sensor suites deployed all around the asteroid and started actively scanning nearby space. The active scanners were tied to several batteries of anti-missile lasers and short-range anti-missile pods and provided an active defensive layer of protection for the base. The only other defense for the base was the Mk VII missiles stationed in launch tubes at several locations around the asteroid. They were tied to the base’s passive sensors as the extreme ranges they operated at were not efficient for active sensors that were limited in accuracy to a hundred thousand miles.

  “All defenses activated,” reported the weapons officer.

  “Admiral, a slowed replay of the attack on the ambassador’s ship is ready on screen three,” reported the officer manning the Quantum Analytics station.

  “Play it.”

  On the screen appeared the four vampires. They were smaller and wider than human missiles and had no apparent means of propulsion. After a brief pause, they reoriented themselves and accelerated at a phenomenal rate directly at Ambassador Geto’s warship. At what appeared to be several hundred miles from the ambassador’s ship, a blue cone of energy was projected from the ship in the path of the enemy missiles. The missiles attempted to avoid the projection, with one getting outside of what appeared to be a projected shield wall. The three impacting the wall detonated with a magnificent flash, filling the entire screen. The final object exploded, creating a double flash, but the viewers were not able to see how the ambassador’s ship destroyed the last missile.

  “Admiral, Ambassador Geto is requesting to speak with you,” announced the communications officer.

  Pulling his attention away from the replay, Bilford was relieved to receive the communication, because he did not know what was happening. Was this a Chzek
attack? he asked himself. “Ambassador, we witnessed the attack on your ship. Do you need assistance?” asked the admiral, leaving his real question unspoken for the moment.

  “No Admiral, that won’t be necessary. The attack was unsuccessful. However, the nature of the attack on the system has changed. The missile attack you just witnessed was made by a Chzek warship. They may be escalating the war. It remains to be seen if they limit their selves to attacking my ship, or if yours are also in danger.”

  “Let’s hope they are limiting their attack, Ambassador,” the admiral said, missing that he was wishing a better-you-than-me circumstance on the Rool.

  “I will choose to take that in the manner it was intended, Admiral,” the ambassador replied, with a mildly disapproving look on his blue face.

  “Ahh. Right. Thank you, ambassador. I apologize and meant for no harm to you or your ship. Will our defenses stand up to a Chzek attack?”

  “Your base shields may resist an attack. They are different in nature to shields in use by just about every other race. The advanced weapons used by the Chzek were not designed to defeat inertia dampeners as they would never take seriously their use as a shield.”

  “Well, let’s hope us primates have a trick or two they’re not ready for,” said the admiral, feeling the sting of the ambassador’s insult on human technology.

  “Sure. Let’s hope,” the ambassador replied, unconvinced. “Admiral, have you made it clear that under no circumstances are your ships to fire on a Chzek ship?”

  “They have been ordered to not fire on a Chzek ship unless they are fired upon first,” the admiral, annoyed by the question, answered. How the hell were his ships supposed to know which one was a Chzek during the battle?

  The ambassador was not sympathetic to the human’s feelings of unfairness, “If they are fired upon first, the point will be moot. Make sure your ships, under no circumstances, fire on a Chzek ship. This whole war changes from a winnable war for humanity to a war of survival and delayed annihilation if the Chzek receive an excuse to enter the war. Better to lose everyone in this system than to have that happen.”

  Grinding his teeth, the admiral acknowledged the ambassador’s instructions without further comment.

  “The Chzek is likely working independently of the incoming fleet and is targeting my ship only. Getting one of your ships to fire upon it first could be a secondary goal. Known Chzek-kin combat doctrine calls for their ships to be working in groups of three or more. The Chzek ship is likely working alone. Keep that in mind when selecting your targets.” That was the final warning from the ambassador before he told the admiral their ship could not remain in defense of the support ships in light of the attack; he intended to hunt down the Chzek ship and destroy it. The Rool warship began accelerating away from the asteroid at an acceleration the admiral did not believe possible before it disappeared from the base’s sensors.

  “We’ve lost contact with the ambassador’s ship, Sir,” reported one of the sensors techs.

  “Are they out of range already?” asked the admiral, surprised at the report even with the rate of acceleration that was showing on the display.

  “No Sir. They just disappeared. Same as those vampires,” the sensors tech replied, awed by what he just saw. The training of sensors techs included weapons capabilities and the young tech knew no human-made defense system could intercept those missiles.

  “Very well,” Bilford said, allowing the sensors tech and anyone else in the room to live with their fear for the moment. This battle is going to get a lot worse before it gets better and they’re going to have to deal with it, he thought. Not forgetting the opportunity to gather data, the admiral ordered, “I want all sensor data on those missiles and the Rool ship uploaded to the ready drones. Maybe the scientists will be able to get some insights into how they operate.”

  The entire base was kept at general quarters for the next six hours as they waited for another attack from the Chzek missiles. It was clear to the admiral he would need to stand down to GQ-3 to give half of the crew some rest if he wanted them to be in shape to fight when the mass of missiles reached the base in the estimated eighteen hours remaining. Ordering the Port Crew to stand down for food and rest, the admiral remained with the starboard watch section. The wait was excruciatingly painful for the admiral. Patience, a requirement in space combat, was not his strongest trait.

  It was nine hours later, in the seventh hour of the port watch, and before a much needed rest, that the first detonations began to occur in the smaller group of contacts. The quarter megaton explosions of the Mk-VII missiles, tasked to anti-missile defense, lit up the cloud of enemy missiles dozens of times, to the cheers of the base defenders. Their cheers were based on hope, however, as there was no way to know the number of missiles successfully destroyed due to the extreme range.

  Admiral Bilford watched silently; aware the kill ratio would be low. There was nothing to celebrate at this point and he was more focused on whether the missiles from the platforms would reach the enemy fleet before their missile barrage reached the base. This battle was many hours, if not days from being over.

  “Weapons,” the admiral began, “prepare another anti-missile volley. I want the intercept to happen at the edge of our sensor range for distinguishing individual missile targets. Plan a barrage of anti-missiles as soon as we can target them individually. Set anti-missile lasers to auto.” The quantum computers had not yet given a report on the targeting of the enemy missile barrage, but it didn’t take a crystalline brain for the admiral to figure out the base was the main target of the enemy attack.

  Making a final decision on the deployment of the system’s defending ships, the admiral issued his orders, “Communications, order all ships and platforms in the system to target the incoming enemy fleet. They are to ignore the inbound missile barrage except where their ship is targeted. Let them know Black Rock Three is fully defensive and we need them to destroy that fleet.”

  Chapter 25: Rool Warship, Geto, Waypoint Star System

  Report, thought Captain Geto to his Rool warship’s consciousness. He had the usual concerns when breaking in a newly constructed warship without combat experience. The assistant ambassador to the humans under Ambassador Cent was a combat veteran with more than a thousand battles fought with over twenty different interstellar species. It was one of the benefits, or drawbacks, of a perpetual existence. He had full memories of the loss of one hundred twenty-eight ships and no memories of another three hundred six ships lost under his command as his consciousness was unable to be downloaded post destruction. He allowed himself two hundred milliseconds to consider the amount of post-traumatic stress disorder he would have if he were a human with his record.

  The warship’s consciousness responded with a monotone consistency, All systems nominal. Drones two through fourteen have been deployed according to scatter pattern six-one-four. Tracking sixty-six hostile Chzek-kin ships and two hundred sixty-four missiles.

  The Rool captain took note of the ship limiting itself to facts known without speculation or comment of the Chzek ship’s location or the focus of the Chzek-kin fleet on the humans. He could not rely on it the way he could his friend, and former ships’ consciousness, Golost. The thought left a small emptiness inside of him at the memory of making the decision to retire Golost as her behavior had become more and more erratic after each battle they were in together. His friend’s obstinate refusal to delete her most traumatic battle experiences because those were the battles she learned the most from was still confusing to Geto. What use were the memories if the experience they provided could no longer be put to use? Better to cut out the cancerous memories as he had done so many times to preserve his own sanity.

  Run analyses on most likely attack profiles for the Chzek warship based on current parameters and historical records. Order from highest to lowest likelihood and attach supporting records, Geto ordered. He would need to check the logic and choice of data used by the warship’s consciousness. Faul
ty logic was not a real concern. However, the conjecture and weighting of historical examples was more art than science and was easily misapplied by inexperienced ship intellects. Fortunately, the veteran crew of the warship, per his standing orders, mirrored all orders he gave to the warship and ran their own analyses.

  Staring at the enormous system tactical map projected directly into his mind, the captain, while sitting in his combat cocoon on the warship’s bridge, could see the positions of his decoy ships and his ship’s own location tucked into the valley of a two hundred kilometer long asteroid in the system’s asteroid belt. They were more than two million miles from Black Rock Three Base. There was nothing left to do but play the game of hide and seek as the humans called it.

  The bridge of the Chzek-kin Command Battlecruiser Behemoth was silent. Like the vaults of the crypts of the Lost Legion, home to the remains of the doomed souls who stood up to the Chzek when they invaded the Lioranet eight hundred seventy-two years ago. Admiral Tukool often thought of his ancestors during the long periods of waiting during space battles in which he was a part. Sadly, the crypts were silent as no one knew of their location lest the Chzek discover the place of honor and virtue. Only the spiritual leaders of their race, who were themselves kept in hiding, knew of the locations.

  Torn from his thoughts, Admiral Tukool caught the tail end of the report from the ship’s sensor officer, “….detected!”

  Not wanting to interfere with the flag captain’s fighting of his ship, the admiral waited to see the response to the report or to hear his Fleet Sensors Officer relay the report.

  The flag captain and the admiral’s sensor officer began speaking simultaneously and the admiral was forced to choose who to listen to. He focused on his own fleet staff to whom he could issue orders directly. For now, he was as helpless to act as he was three hours ago when the humans’ struck their missile barrage with their own anti-missile missiles, although thankfully most of the missiles targeting the human base survived to continue on their course to the asteroid.