Chiming into the conversation, the sensors officer, Lt. Gerard, threw out a possibility, “What if they’re heading for a three-by-three waypoint?”
Captain Kree and Beck looked at each other and, even before the captain issued the order, Beck turned back to her station and started making inquiries to the navigation computer.
“Navigation, map all deep space three-by-three waypoints along our path,” ordered the captain, unnecessarily. Three-by-three waypoints were points in deep space that could be positively identified through triangulation. The points were only identifiable by creating three planes using three-star triangles to create the planes. Where you could create three planes crossing in deep space you created a point that could be accurately navigated to at any time. The first two planes crossing created a line, and the third plane crossing intersected the line at a single point in space that could be used as a navigation point. Unlike navigating on a planet during the days of ships and sails, where stars could be used as fixed points you can put on your left or right and sail down according to some chart and inclination of the sun, interstellar travel required taking into account stars as they traveled through space at phenomenal rates and could not be used in the same manner other than as destination points.
The Sun travels around the Milky Way’s center at an average of over 500,000 mph. That’s over two billion miles in six months that it travels around an arc in addition to its motion in relation to the other stars in the region. It was impossible to create an identifiable point in deep space other than through planar triangulation such that the triangulated point in space moved along with the planes of the stars while remaining identifiable at all times.
“Captain!” shouted Beck from her console, “There’s a three-by-three waypoint directly in the path of the Chzek ships!” The likelihood of the alien ships being on a course to intersect a waypoint were astronomical; it would be easier to win a lottery – twice.
“What’s the range to the waypoint?” asked the captain, sitting forward in her seat. Her emotional state entered an even darker shade of blue.
“Twelve point two billion miles.”
Looking up to the side screen showing an extreme range view of the engine thrust of the two enemy ships, the captain ran a quick calculation in her head before issuing a string of commands, “Prepare to launch Drone Delta on a tracking course for the two ships. Maintain distance and transition to a mirrored path to our own. We need a course change or we’ll pass right through the waypoint with them.”
Continuing to look at the two ships, the captain ticked her already high assessment of the enemies’ intelligence up another notch – although paranoia could be another explanation.
There were few explanations for using deep space waypoints: if the Chzek-kin knew they may be followed by an enemy; or, they could have a deep space base, which would be amazing; or, it could be a navigation aid, but highly unlikely. Using planar triangulation for waypoints was the stuff of old space pirate movies. Was the waypoint just a navigation aid, or was it more? It had to be more. If it was just navigation, they could have just dog-legged their course at any time once they entered deep space. If they were concerned about having their course tracked as they exited a system that would be just as effective as using waypoints. The waypoint had to be a trap. There was little reason to use waypoints, other than as a location for a deep space base or rendezvous point. The Chzek-kin ships were not slowing, so a rendezvous was out.
The captain gave her last order prior to transitioning the waypoint, “Launch the drone as soon as it’s ready and have it offset from our rabbits by nine million miles one-eighty degrees opposite us. We can’t afford to lose these guys when they make their course change.” The captain was certain the waypoint would be used to set a trap and scrape off any pursuit or clandestine followers of any Chzek ship passing through. But, the fox wasn’t going to allow itself to be trapped so easily. Now they had to expect the two ships to make a course change immediately after passing through the waypoint to limit the extra energy that will be required to change course to their actual destination; the longer they waited, the more it would take to make the course change.
Chapter 29: Rheas System, Ship Assembly Facility One
Standing at the observation port of the Rheas’ first space-based ship assembly plant, Admiral Ben Tomkin and Ambassador Cent paused their tour of the newly completed facility to watch the Rheas workers marry a fore and aft section of the same ship type Humans were currently manufacturing for the Vrene. The sections were manufactured on the Rheas surface and hauled up into space using the same anti-gravity units humans had on loan from the Vrene to use for the same purpose when they started manufacturing ships three hundred years ago. They were loaned to humanity to start their production of ships and now they were on loan to the Rheas for the same reason. It would be years before the Rheas could build space-based mining, refining, and manufacturing facilities on a moon or asteroid with the help of the humans; too long to allow them to take before starting production. Until then, only final section assembly would be performed in space.
With anti-gravity units there was no delay in starting the manufacture of ships and the Rheas were churning out their first ships. The ships would be passed through and given to the Vrene to meet the Human quota so as to free up the more advanced production facilities in the Sol System needed to build up Earth’s fleets. The additional forty-three light years the ships had to travel from Rheas to the delivery point at the edge of Vrene space did not seem to matter to the Vrene.
The ships, after an upload of a basic AI provided by the Rool, flew themselves on autopilot to the Vrene collection point. What became of the ships after that, where they went, and to whom, was never disclosed to the humans.
The Rheas finally sorted themselves out and were on track to initially make delivery of four ships annually, although they were expected to quickly ramp up production over the next several months and start final assembly of ships in their first space-based assembly facility graciously provided by the humans to get them started. Ambassador Cent only needed to execute thirteen people to change their attitude, which was more than a hundred less than Ambassador Dek executed to get Humanity to give up their passive resistance. It helped that the Rheas had a world government, unlike humans who had over two hundred independent nations needing to fall in line when they made first contact.
Politicians did not think twice about continuing to resist when workers and production managers were being killed for failures to meet quotas. Ambassador Cent, as Ambassador Dek did three hundred years before, moved up the food chain and started executing the political leaders when it became apparent the races’ leaders were not overly concerned with the well-being of the people they served.
Since the early “retirement” of the Rheas president and several others, work to shift production building ships and a space-based assembly facility had accelerated rapidly.
In the airless assembly area of the only ship assembly facility available, and below the observation room where the admiral and ambassador watched, two sections of a ship’s hull were being assembled and were slowly moving together to be matched and welded together. Several Rheas workers were closely observing the matching of the multi-ton pieces. After thirty minutes, and well before the job was completed, the workers began moving away from the event a couple at a time. When there were only a couple workers remaining, none of which were originally a part of the operation, Ambassador Cent made a pronouncement, “Here they go.”
Admiral Tomkin did not understand what the ambassador was referring to and began to ask the Rool what it was time for. Just before getting the words out, there was an explosion down at the assembly area. The two ship sections, massing nearly a hundred tons each, were thrown in opposite directions and the few remaining workers were killed instantly.
Ducking behind the wall below the viewing port, the admiral exclaimed, “What the hell!” He looked up at the ambassador expecting an answer to the exclamat
ion but did not receive a reply as the ambassador was engaged in a communication with what could only be his ship. The Rool’s lips were moving and he was ignoring everything around him. The admiral saw him with that same distant look on his face a number of times and waited.
Standing back up, the admiral looked into the assembly area and saw a number of Rheas rushing about in the airless bay. Fire was not a concern in the vacuum of space, and there did not appear to be any survivors, but that didn’t stop the aliens from rushing about with their magnetic boots on the mostly destroyed scaffolding like swarming ants.
It was a full minute before Ambassador Cent turned to the admiral and said, “We’re done here. I suggest we return to your command ship. There are some things we need to discuss while the perpetrators are dealt with.”
“That was espionage?” the admiral asked, surprised.
“Yes, but only as a tool to cover up a theft. You have to give the Rheas credit; it was a full three years before Humans made their first attempts. They only just started using the assembly plant and they are already attempting to steal technology.”
Wanting to be careful not to call undue attention or ideas of possible consequences that could come back to cost humanity from its own history of stealing technology from the Vrene, the admiral asked, “You obviously are aware of their efforts. What are we going to do about it?”
“Normally we would allow a certain amount of theft to take place over time; enough to allow advancement in a controlled manner. After all, how else will they advance to a point of being of any benefit in the fight against the Chzek? But, Rheas aggression needs to be tempered. If we show weakness they will destroy more ships than they build trying to get at the technology,” the ambassador explained, having studied the Rheas profile in depth. The data came predominantly from the observations of Commander Kree and the Cousteau and the Rool took full advantage of the exploration ship’s analyses.
The ambassador held up a hand to pause the admiral’s next question, his eyes taking on a distant look and, once again, his lips slightly moving. Ambassador Dek was much less pronounced in his behavior when taking calls through whatever built-in communications the Rool had in their heads. The difference in the two aliens made the admiral wonder if the Rool had different “models” of their “manufactured” species.
Finishing his call, the ambassador continued his conversation, “The perpetrators and stolen technology have been dealt with,” he said.
A moment later the admiral’s communicator buzzed, “Admiral Tomkin, there’s been an accident. A Rheas shuttle that just left from the assembly facility where you are at blew up. Do you need assistance?” asked the captain of the UEAF frigate, Slipstream, the picket ship assigned to monitor and defend the facility.
Raising an eyebrow and looking to the Rool ambassador, who had a “well, what did you expect,” look on his face, the admiral declined the offer of assistance and thanked the young commander for informing him of the destruction of what he was sure was the ship the Rheas were using to transport whatever stolen technology they had acquired.
Even though he was concerned about the ambassador’s heavy-handedness, the admiral knew there was little to nothing to be done about it. The Rool were given a free hand in managing the Rheas by the UEG. And, even if they weren’t, it was clear the Rool would not have tolerated interference by a clueless human.
Instead, the admiral changed the subject, even while watching the Rheas damage control teams working to clean up the damage from the explosion, “The assault fleet should be arriving within the next three weeks for the attack on the Chzek-kin base discovered by the Nautilus,” he said, wanting to prompt the Rool to give his insights into the upcoming attack.
“Yes. The fleet is to be comprised of your new Aurora Class heavy cruisers,” the ambassador replied, allowing the change in topic. There was no need in his mind to discuss further something the admiral could only expect to become frustrated by in his inability to change. “I have studied the plans for the heavy cruiser and am impressed by the improvements in both defensive and offensive armaments. Although to be fair, if the ships enter the system to make their attack, they should not expect any better outcome than was experienced by the Chzek-kin attack on Black Rock Three.”
In other words, thought the admiral, the best to be hoped for would be to destroy the target with the loss of the entire attacking fleet. There needs to be a better way. “I can’t ask those men and women to go on a suicide mission, Ambassador,” he stated after a lengthy silence.
“It is the nature of space combat, Admiral. Forces attacking in-system against a heavily defended target, under nearly any evenly matched level of technology, are bound to have heavy losses. If you do not wish to experience the losses, you need to either not attack, or find another plan of attack.”
The admiral took his eyes off the damage control crews for a moment to give an eyebrow raised look at the ambassador. Why was he making such an obviously unhelpful statement? he thought. Are we that bad? The past year was incredibly frustrating to the admiral when dealing with the thousand-plus year old alien with the mind of a quantum computer from a race with thousands of more years in space than humans had from inventing the wheel. It was hard knowing their alien “friends” had all the answers to humanity’s problems, but refused to share them; instead making the humans figure it out on their own.
Taking a deep breath and letting out a heavy sigh, the admiral decided not to pursue the conversation further; not until he spent the next few weeks with his planning staff looking for a better way to make the attack on the Chzek-kin manufacturing facility.
The virtual command deck of an Aurora Class heavy cruiser was just as big, or small, as the virtual deck of every other ship in the fleet. It all depended on what the captain of the ship preferred, and to a lesser extent, how many members there were on watch during general quarters so there was room for their avatars. That’s if a captain allowed avatars on their virtual decks, which few did not.
Commodore Giovanna Galorio was a minimalist when it came to virtual spaces. There was no reason for expending excess quantum computing power on extravagant graphics displays just to stroke the ego of a ship’s captain. Galorio ran a tight ship with strict discipline and was merciless in her demands on crews that they were always a hundred percent ready and did not waste ship’s resources on personal entertainment.
It was this controlling command style that moved her up through the ranks of the peacetime UEAF when the only purpose the fleet really represented was a Hail Mary if Earth ever came into conflict with the Vrene. Having a war with another alien race was a distant thought occasionally played out in a virtual battlespace prior to the transmission from the XSS Cousteau of its discovery of the Rheas and subsequent witnessing of the Chzek-kin raid on their planet. Throughout human history navies during peacetime promoted by-the-book commanders and politically backed candidates over others due to the standard of evaluation; being a neat and tidy ship, rather than an effective fighting ship, was the path to promotion.
When the war started it was fortunate for the commodore that other officers in the UEAF were no more experienced in combat than she was. It was fortunate for the service she was able to adapt to the new reality of a wartime military; where a ship’s combat effectiveness was the standard of performance rather than the polish on the handle of the hatch of an EGG Habitat, or the crispness and uniformity of a ship’s crew’s avatars in a virtual reality environment. The insane make-work a military in a prolonged peace could come up with to keep itself entertained was limitless and went right out the airlock when the shooting started.
The “new” UEAF was not a peacetime military. It was a fighting force with new ships, new weapons, and a new state of mind. Commodore Galorio embraced that new reality; she grasped the new focus. She remade herself as an officer commanding a warship during a time of war. The bridge of the UES Hamilton was far grander than anything she would have ever allowed herself before the war. Each statio
n was a direct translation of the watch stander’s own virtual presentation; seamlessly incorporated into the larger bridge. It took a few tries in the beginning, but once the crew saw the captain was allowing their empowerment over their workplace and using a direct copy of their virtual stations, every one of them reengineered their station’s rendering to fit the bridge. The commodore never once issued an order requiring uniformity and was pleased more than she had ever been of a crew at how they came together.
“Navigation,” the commodore said, her first words since entering the bridge deck, “Fleet status report.”
“All ships are in tight formation and maintaining course and deceleration profile,” replied the navigation technician on watch. “The Templeton has reported an issue with their number three engine that is causing spectral flares. They are planning to hot swap parts at 03:00.”
“Communications, order the Templeton to belay the hot swap. They can make the repair after we reach the Rheas System,” the commodore said, amending the order. Their destination was under friendly control and she believed it an unnecessary risk to make repairs under a high delta-V. Better to make a safe repair at zero thrust unless the mission necessitated.
At the bottom of the navigation screen a countdown was ticking off the time remaining to reach the Rheas System. They had a little over two days before the commodore could begin planning the attack on the Chzek-kin base discovered by the Nautilus. She already had an attack plan. Whether Admiral Tomkin approved it, or threw it out for his own plan, remained to be seen. It was a good plan that stressed a cohesive fleet defense and maximized the number of missiles targeting the enemy base from extreme range. Ships in the system would be secondary targets of opportunity.
The eight Aurora heavy cruisers in her strike group were far more powerful than a similar number of the Saturn Class cruisers; their new Mk XI missiles had enough range to transit the entire width of a solar system. The missiles still had the three warhead layout of the Mk VII, only the nuclear warhead was upgraded to a ten megaton warhead with a deep penetrating option for attacking a base built into an asteroid. The missiles were also twice the size of the Mk VII and required a larger launch tube currently only available on the new heavy cruisers. With the new Epson Drives, the weapons were slightly faster and significantly agiler than their predecessor and would be devastating to any ships or facilities the Exploration Service’s scout ships were able to find.
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