Retreat and Adapt

by Thomas DePrima

  As the fighter climbed to minimum altitude, Jenetta smiled. She had alerted her protection detail and was now planning her course back to the SC base. She would definitely take the long way around.

  Once clear of land and oh-gee traffic, she dropped down to the deck and skimmed across the ocean's surface. Her instruments showed no other aircraft or watercraft ahead, so she punched the throttle and wave-hopped all the way back to the base.

  * * *

  "We picked up some chatter in a bar about a ship headed out 'to the black' in a few days," Nelligen said as the team of agents sat down to dinner aboard the Scorpion.

  "What's the cargo?" Vyx asked.

  "Mainly food, from what we gathered."

  "That can be significant or insignificant."

  "We've listened to hundreds of conversations between Uthlaro freight haulers, and they always mention a specific destination— either a planet or a base. This is the first time I've heard one use the term 'to the black.'"

  "It is unusual for a freight hauler to say it like that. Anything else?"

  "No, that was the only interesting tidbit we heard all day in the bar."

  "It's more than we got," Byers said. "Vyx and I spent the day in what I believe to be the foulest-smelling bar on the planet and got nothing but nauseated."

  "The question is," Brenda asked, "do we spend months and months tracking a freighter simply because someone used the term 'to the black?'"

  "He might have simply been referring to traveling in space," Kathryn said.

  "Perhaps," Vyx agreed, "but space is where they spend most of their lives and spacers don't usually refer to it like that. That's a sod-lubber term."

  "Do you want to make the decision," Nelligen asked of Vyx, "or do you want us to vote on it?"

  "Uh— let's vote. All in favor of following a freighter hauler 'to the black,' raise your hand." A second later he said, "Okay, we're heading 'to the black.'"

  * * *

  "My Lady," the image of Chamberlain Yaghutol said, "I'm pleased to announce that the Azula Mum's speech at the Harvest Festival was very well received. She talked about the great strides we've made in restoring the quality of life on the planet and encouraged everyone to work harder so that all might enjoy a better life. I'm glad you were able to redirect her— spirit— along a more traditional path.

  "Here is my monthly financial report…"

  As Chamberlain Yaghutol rambled on with facts and figures, Jenetta leaned back in her chair and smiled. "One potential disaster averted," she said, "just a thousand more to go."

  * * *

  Chapter Thirteen

  ~ October 12th, 2286 ~

  "We could be out here for years, Captain," Lt. Commander Jasson Lister said to Commander Marc Hodenfield during their morning briefing session aboard the scout-destroyer Rio Grande.

  "Yeah, we could, but let's hope not. If the enemy ships have left GA space, we'll still have to search every cubic light-year, but I dread finding them more than not finding them after reading the damage reports about the Yenisei and the Salado."

  "Admiral Carver will find us an edge."

  "I love your optimism, but this problem might be beyond even her incredible talents. Before the Yenisei incident, I believed nothing could damage Dakinium. It goes to show you that there's no such thing as an impregnable hull. I can't help but wonder if the Yenisei and Salado went down because their crews put too much faith in their ship's ability to survive any attack."

  "If anyone was arrogant or overconfident before, you can be sure they aren't any more."

  "I guess…"

  Hodenfield stopped when his com sounded an emergency signal from the third officer who had the bridge whenever Hodenfield wasn't there during first watch.

  "What's the emergency, Third?" Hodenfield said.

  "Captain, we just passed something off our larboard side."

  "What was it?"

  "Unknown, sir. It was at our maximum Detect range and only on the screen for a second."

  "It's not in the celestial database or the navigation hazard database?"

  "They show nothing located in that area, sir."

  "Is the Mekong still in the search lane off our larboard side?"

  "At last report, sir."

  "Ask them if they ID'd the contact."

  "Yes, sir."

  Several minutes later, Lt. Sardani, the third officer, comm'd with his report. "Sir, the Mekong didn't see it. They believe the contact was just outside their max range. They want to know if we'll investigate or if you'd prefer them to do it."

  "Tell them we'll take a look. Have the com return to the location. But— pass it at three billion kilometers and Light-9790. If it has an energy signature, we'll know right away and still have a decent amount of information without alerting them to our presence."

  "Aye, sir."

  As Hodenfield clicked off the com, his XO said, "Three billion kilometers probably won't enable us to determine if it's one of the enemy ships we're searching for or simply a small freighter."

  "Perhaps not, but I want to take it one step at a time. I intend to treat the aliens with all the care and respect for their weapons ordered by R2HQ. First let's determine if it's a ship or a rogue asteroid. After that we'll make a decision as to how close we go."

  "Captain," Lt. Sardani said via the com, "you should see this."

  "What is it, Third?"

  "I don't know, sir. That's why you should see it. It's— it's— massive."

  Commander Hodenfield immediately activated the bulkhead monitor in his office. His eyes opened wide at the size of the object on the DeTect channel. "I'm coming out, Third."

  Seconds later, Hodenfield and XO Lister emerged from the captain's office. The Captain relieved Lt. Sardani and took his seat in the command chair while Lister sat in his First Officer's chair.

  "Tac," Hodenfield said as he stared at the DeTect image on the front monitor, "is that accurate?"

  "That's what the DeTect monitor is reporting, sir."

  "And it's emitting a power signature?"

  "Yes, sir. Off the scale."

  "How large is it?"

  "The longitudinal dimension of the object appears to span one hundred twenty-six kilometers with a breadth of eighteen kilometers and a depth of seven kilometers."

  "Good Lord. Is it stationary?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Could it be a natural celestial object with spacecraft on the surface?"

  "Possible, but unlikely from the power readings, sir."

  "We'll have to take a closer look, sir," Lister said. "We can't determine its composition and construction from three billion kilometers away."

  Hodenfield released a breath, but didn't actually sigh. "Com, notify the Mekong that we've spotted an oblong object one hundred twenty-six kilometers in length with a beam of eighteen kilometers and a depth of seven kilometers. The shape is smooth rather than rough and does not appear to be natural in formation. It's emitting a sustained power signature. Inform them that a first pass didn't provide the detail we need to make an assessment of its origins, so we're making another, much closer pass. Helm, take us past the unidentified object again. A distance of one million kilometers should be adequate. Tac, at Light-9790 we should appear as just a momentary blip on their systems, but I don't want to have to do this again, so check your equipment before we start the run."

  "Aye, sir," all three crewmembers said.

  A minute later the helmsman said, "We've completed a one-hundred-eighty-degree turn and are ready to begin our run, Captain."

  "Tac?"

  "All equipment verified fully operational and active. At one million kilometers, we should get sufficient detail to clearly identify the target."

  "Commence the run, helm."

  "Aye, Captain, commencing the run."

  A few minutes later as the image of the unknown object jumped into clarity on the front monitor, someone uttered, "Oh my God."

  If the Rio Grande hadn't already been traveling
at Light-9790, Commander Hodenfield would have ordered it.

  * * *

  "Admiral Kelakmius," the image of the Space Command officer on the bridge monitor said, "I'm Captain Steven Powers of the GSC Battleship Hephaestus. The Flordaryn president has accused you of holding some of his people aboard your ships. You will release them immediately or suffer the consequences."

  "I am an admiral, Captain. I do not take orders from lesser ranked officers."

  "My authorization comes directly from Admirals Carver and Poole. Admiral Carver says she warned you about starting trouble here and says that if you don’t release the Flordaryns immediately, you will never see the Tsgardi home system again."

  Kelakmius bristled at the threat. "We will not return the Flordaryn workers until the Flordaryns return our torpedoes. They've left us defenseless up here. We must have our torpedoes back and our laser arrays functioning again before we release the workers."

  "Admiral, you have one hour to comply with my directive. After that we will take action and reduce your ship to scrap."

  "You wouldn't do that. You would kill the Flordaryns, as well as us."

  "Never underestimate the power of Space Command, Admiral. We can reduce your ship to scrap without killing anyone. We'll start with your sub-light engines and when we're done, they'll never be of use to anyone again. One hour, Admiral. After that it will be too late."

  * * *

  "Come in, Barbara," Jenetta said from behind her desk as the computer opened the door to her office.

  Captain Barbara DeWitt entered and gestured towards the beverage dispenser. Jenetta immediately nodded.

  "How about you, Admiral?" DeWitt asked as her mug was filling with coffee.

  "I'm fine," Jenetta said, looking up from her com screen. "I just prepared a fresh mug a few minutes ago."

  DeWitt took her coffee and sat down in one of the chairs facing a desk large enough to host a small conference. Like everything in the Governor's Palace, it was meant to impress visitors.

  Jenetta finished reading a report from Admiral Poole and looked up. "How's it going at South Island?"

  "Everyone's tired, but we feel a real sense of accomplishment. We've completed the design of the bomb and we're ready to push ahead as soon as we can get the materials we need." Standing, she leaned over the desk and handed Jenetta a data ring. "Call up file BC01P."

  Jenetta placed the ring on her keyboard's data spindle and accessed the file. She activated the room's large wall monitor and it filled with small images.

  DeWitt stood, walked to the monitor, and touched one of the small images. It immediately expanded to fill the monitor. "This is the bomb. As you can see, the end is the necessary cap made from Dakinium that will allow the ship to build an envelope. We've designed it as you suggested, with a convex extension at the fore. The principal reason is, as you requested, for visual confirmation of firings and remaining weapons using sensors mounted on the hull. For the weapon itself, we've actually designed three different bomb strengths. They range from the power of a WOLaR torpedo down to one-tenth of one percent of standard nuclear torpedo strength. If you merely want to get their attention, you could use the lowest strength. If that doesn't give them pause, then you have the two full-strength weapons available. All three bombs are identical in size so they will fit into the same size cradle in the hull of the ship."

  Touching the image again shrank it back to a tiny size. DeWitt touched another and the new image filled the monitor. "Here's the cradle we designed for the ship. It will be fitted into the hull to secure the bomb until release. It's made of Dakinium so the ship won't lose its envelope when a bomb is released. The bomb locks into position inside the cradle and cannot be released until the locking mechanism for that unit is retracted. Two tiny contact points activate the ejection jets in the bomb and the bomb becomes functional once it completely clears the cradle. Precision ejection jets are necessary so we can precisely time how long it takes for the envelope around the bomb to dissipate. From the time the bomb clears the cradle, there are four seconds before detonation. The bomb absolutely cannot detonate while in the cradle."

  A touch on the monitor collapsed the image again and DeWitt returned to her seat.

  "How soon can you go into production?" Jenetta asked.

  "As soon as we can get the Dakinium components from the Jupiter foundry and the bomb components from whoever is selected to produce them. All the specs are on the data ring. In the meantime, we can begin cutting holes in the ship to accept the cradles and adapting the weapons computer so the bombs can be released on command from the bridge, and only when the ship is traveling at Light-9790."

  "Did you say holes?"

  "Yes, Admiral. We've decided that the ship should not be limited to just one bomb. It should be able to release as many as one hundred bombs before halting for reloading."

  "That's a considerable number of holes."

  "My team has agreed that one hundred is the optimum number."

  "Why so many?"

  "Mainly because the first pass may not do it. The ship will be traveling so fast that numerous misses are expected, despite our best efforts. I'm sure you understand just how small and insignificant a spaceship will seem when traveling at almost three billion kilometers per second. Second, the bomb cradles will have to be reloaded from outside the ship. An internal self-loading mechanism will have to be integral to the construction of the vessel and is something ship designers can plan for in the future if this armament system proves practical, but it's beyond our capabilities out here at present. Then there's the possibility that there may be dozens, perhaps hundreds, of enemy ships out there. We know of three, but what if there is a full fleet waiting to attack? Lastly, you may want to carry bombs of different strengths— a lightweight one, simply to get their attention, a mid-sized with a normal nuclear payload for small ships, and a very large one with a WOLaR payload for larger ships.

  "To allow for testing, possible defects, and the actual units required for construction, we'll need a minimum of one hundred twenty Dakinium cradles— and I recommend one thousand bombs."

  Jenetta nodded. "That's reasonable. What else will you need to move this project forward, besides the Dakinium components?"

  "We'll need one hundred of the best ordnance engineers in the Second Fleet and a first-class machine shop."

  "I can get you the one hundred best ordnance engineers posted on Quesann or aboard the ships in orbit. I can't promise they're the best in the Fleet because we have so many on ships out on patrol and other engineers that are posted to space stations in the region."

  "I'm sure that will be fine. We'll evaluate their abilities as they work and assign the best of the group to assemble the most critical components."

  "Anything else you'll need?"

  "Fissionable material. We can either use fresh supplies from Region One stocks, or we can salvage material from our inventory of torpedo warheads. We'll also need a place to handle the material safely so no one is exposed to radiation."

  "I'll arrange for the material from Region One rather than destroying usable torpedoes. We'll have to wait for the Dakinium cradles and bomb components anyway, so the time delay isn't a consideration. I'll find out if the nuclear ordnance center can be used for your purposes. If not, I'll get construction engineers working on a materials handling location remote enough that it won't endanger anyone else. I'll also attempt to have as much of the bomb assembly work completed in Region One as possible to take advantage of their greater production capability. That it?"

  "Only that we're going to do our best, but I still have my doubts about being able to drop a bomb into a cargo container while traveling at Light-9790."

  Jenetta smiled. "I know you always strive to do your best, and you've always delivered it."

  * * *

  Five months into her gender transformation, Nicole Ravenau had suffered through the most difficult stages. There had been weeks when the pain was so bad she'd wished she would just die. At ti
mes, even the sleep medication hadn't been powerful enough to let her lapse into unconsciousness, but the scientists had warned that stronger doses could have serious long-term consequences, so she had suffered and tried to lose herself in daydreams about the days to come.

  When the ship arrived at Pelomious in two months' time, she should be able to walk without aids. There would still be pain, but it would be bearable. And over the following months it would lessen a little more each day. The thing that kept her going was keeping her eye on the prize. Within a year, she should have everything she had ever dreamed of.

  * * *

  "I'm bored already," Byers said as the five-member team sat down to dinner. "Do you have any idea where we're headed yet?"

  "Nope," Vyx, who had just returned from the bridge, said pithily. "Our present course will take us close to dozens of systems. Our destination could be any of them or none of them."

  "I wish that damn freighter was faster," Nelligen said. "Sitting in bars all day trying to overhear conversations isn't exactly stimulating, but it beats sitting around here all day."

  "Funny you should mention that. The DeTect alarm that called me to the bridge was because the freighter suddenly sped up to Light-450."

  "Light-450? That's as fast as their fastest warships used to be."

  "Yeah, it looks like they're using the warship FTL drives in their new freighters since they're forbidden to make warships now."

  "Can the link sections take the additional strain?" Brenda asked.

  "They can if they're using tritanium now instead of titanium. I'm sure they considered that when they decided to use the FTL drive."

  "We might as well turn around now," Byers said. "We can't hope to keep up with them."

  "No?" Vyx said. "Remember that engine repair we had at Stewart just before we headed for Region Two?"

  "Yeah. What about it?"

  "We didn't need an engine repair. Our FTL drive was upgraded to the same system used in the newest scout-destroyers."

  "So we can achieve Light-450 now?"