by Peter Kenson
“That’s a dangerous assumption. What else?”
“The frigate that’s in dock has no weapons systems installed. It’s obviously undergoing a major refit and its weapons are being upgraded. To what, we don’t know but it’s not going to be operational anytime soon.
“Now that brings me on to that big piece of nastiness down there, and that’s a puzzle. The frigates are all standard configuration warships, similar to frigates you’d find anywhere in the Empire. But that cruiser is something I’ve never seen before. It’s very modern but the design is not listed in any of the databases and, if pushed, I would swear that it has not been manufactured at any Imperial shipyard.”
“Then where did it come…? Oh!” Mikael stopped as the realisation hit.
“Exactly,” Frank continued. “There’s only one other place capable of making a warship of that size, and that’s Vostov. It’s not one of their standard designs but I’m struggling to think where else it could have come from.”
“We suspected there was a tie-up between Belsi and Vostov after the attack on the Arctic Fox. This would appear to confirm it. What’s she carrying?”
“Phasors. Bloody great banks of phasors. At least Mark 13’s, the same as ours but there’s no way of knowing if they’ve been modified like ours.”
“If she is from Vostov then we’d better assume they have been. And possibly the shields as well.”
“She’s got twelve launch tubes fitted that can take either missiles or torpedoes, and multiple rail guns for point defence. I can’t tell anything about the warheads but given that’s she’s quite new, I would expect her munitions to be as well. Finally and by no means least, she has launch and recovery mechanisms for small one man fighters. I’m detecting at least a full squadron, maybe more. She’s a nasty piece of work, sir. The only good piece of news is that she’s not going to be very fast, hauling all that lot around. But if she launches her fighters at us, I doubt that we could outrun them.”
“Right, finish your scans and get the whole lot off to Star Fleet as soon…”
“Satellite signals changed, sir,” Ewan called out from the comms station.
“Dammit,” Mikael said as he crossed back to the command position. “What happened?”
“Don’t know, sir. The signal just suddenly changed and now she’s transmitting a continuous stream of data.”
“Helm, standby to get us out of here. Full impulse power.”
“Wait, sir,” Erik reported, looking up from the sensors. “I don’t think it us. I’ve got a contact on the extreme edge of the system. Looks like a freighter inbound.”
“Identification?”
“Just coming through, sir. It’s the Sigma Aurelis, registered out of Alba. Recorded flight plan shows destination as Ystradis.”
“Any increase in general traffic, Comms?”
“No sir. Everybody appears to be ignoring it. Must be a scheduled run.”
“Helm, belay that last order. Maintain current orbit.”
“Maintain orbit aye, sir.”
“Secure from general quarters. Let’s just sit here quietly for a while. Comms, let me know if you get a reply from Star Fleet. I’ll be in my ready room.”
***
In the communications monitoring centre on Belsia, satellite technician Jarvase knocked hesitantly on his shift leader’s door. The senior technician was not noted for his tolerance of unnecessary interruptions. Indeed the interpretation of what might or might not be necessary often fluctuated wildly with his superior’s mood. So it was with a degree of nervousness that he stood there waiting for the command to enter.
Feldstrom looked up from his desk with a snarl of displeasure as Jarvase came into the office.
“This had better be important,” he barked.
“I’m sorry, sir, but there’s something here I think you should look at.”
“Well, what is it?”
“I was running a standard positional check on one of the scanning satellites, using the on-board systems to triangulate against known star positions. I was locked onto a reference star when it suddenly vanished and so did everything else around it. Then, a few seconds later, it reappeared again just as suddenly.”
“Equipment malfunction. Log it and we’ll check it out next time a support crew goes up there.”
“I don’t think it was an equipment malfunction, sir. I’ve run every possible test on the systems and they all check out. It was more as though something moved through the field of view, blocking out everything behind it.”
“Well that’s what it was then. Don’t waste my time with this rubbish.”
Jarvase shifted his feet uncomfortably but remained standing in front of the desk.
“What?” Feldstrom asked irritably.
“There was nothing in the vicinity of the satellite, sir. The scanning systems were all functioning and it reported nothing. I even checked with Space Command and they confirmed there were no authorised ship movements in that volume of space.”
“Then it was obviously something outside the range of the scanners, wasn’t it?”
“Sir, please look at my calculations,” Jarvase said desperately, placing a small data cube on the desk. “Copies of the positional sighting observations are on there as well. To cause an occlusion of that size, at the extreme range of our scanners, the object would have had to be several hundred kilometres in diameter. If it was any further away, we’re talking thousands if not millions of kilometres.”
Feldstrom stared at the young technician for a few seconds. With obvious reluctance, he reached for the data cube and dropped it into a slot in the desk. Nothing else was said for a long minute as he studied the data scrolling across the screen in front of him. Gradually the look of irritation on his face changed into one of considered thought. Finally he switched the screen off with a flick of his fingers and looked up.
“All the systems check out, you say?”
“Yes sir. I ran every test twice.”
“Which leaves us with two options. Either there is an impossibly large object somewhere out there which has never been spotted before or there is a much smaller object inside our solar system which the scanners cannot detect. Who else knows about this?”
“No-one sir. I ran all the tests myself and then brought the data straight to you.”
“But you did contact Space Command?”
“Yes sir, but I just made a routine enquiry. I didn’t tell them why I was asking.”
Feldstrom nodded. “Okay, this is what I want you to do. Start running positional checks on every satellite that has that capability. Check each satellite and when you’ve finished, start again. Report any further anomalies directly to me but continue running those positional checks until I can find someone to relieve you. Is that understood?”
“Yes sir.”
As the door closed behind the technician, Feldstrom hit the comms button on his desk.
“Get me Space Command.”
***
Mikael snapped into instant wakefulness as the communicator warbled by his ear.
“Captain, go ahead.”
“We’ve got an increase in signal traffic, sir,” Frank reported. “And we’re picking up increased power output from the two frigates. Looks as though they’re preparing to get underway.”
“What about that cruiser?”
“No change in status or power levels, sir.”
“Right, I’m on my way.”
Mikael entered the bridge through his personal entrance from the ready room and took his place at the command station as general quarters sounded throughout the ship.
“All stations report.”
“Sensors show a definite power bloom from the two frigates, sir. They are preparing to move,” Erik reported.
“General increase in signals traffic, sir. Not just locally but directed towards Ystradis as well.”
“Aspect change on all three frigates around Ystradis
,” Frank added. “They’ve all broken from their normal patrol patterns.”
“Headed our way?” Mikael asked.
“No sir. It looks more as though they’re starting a standard search pattern.”
“Looking for what? Us? Helm, prepare to leave orbit.”
“Prepare to leave orbit, aye. What course, sir?”
“Backtrack the course that freighter came in on. I still want to know what she’ll be carrying when she leaves.
“Dammit Number One, how did they spot us?”
“Sensors came up with a possibility, sir.”
Mikael switched his attention to Erik. “Go ahead.”
“I was just thinking about something that Lt. Marisse said on the way in, sir. We passed so close to that outer satellite and she said ‘If it had eyes, it could see us’. Well, maybe it did.”
“Explain.”
“Satellites tend to drift off station very slightly over a period of time. Standard procedure is to occasionally run a series of checks against known fixed reference points, such as distant stars. Then they can correct or allow for the drift. The point is those checks are visual using on-board optical devices. We may have been unlucky and swung past just as they were running one of these checks.”
“If your theory is correct and we blocked one of these visual checks then they know, or at least suspect, that there’s something in this system that their scanners can’t detect. So they still don’t know precisely where we are but they’ve started a search.”
“It’s a possibility, sir,” Erik said. “If we were actually showing up on their scanners, they’d be heading straight for us, with that big, fat cruiser in tow.”
“Right, plot the frigates’ search patterns and feed the data through to the pilot. Helm, take us out nice and easy. Plot a course to avoid their scanning platforms as well as those ships. We’ll wait for that freighter outside the system.”
“Aye, aye sir. Breaking orbit now. All ahead ten percent impulse, sir.”
“Comms, what’s the signal traffic like?”
“Traffic is up but steady, sir. I’m not picking up any huge level of excitement about anything.”
“Helm, take us up to one quarter impulse. Sensors, where’s that freighter?”
“Still in orbit around Ystradis, sir. Looks as though she’s still taking on cargo.”
“Keep me updated on her status,” Mikael ordered as Suzanne came onto the bridge.
“Any luck?” he asked her.
“Yes and no. The Resistance are all underground in shielded caverns because the Belsi are using thought ‘sniffers’ to track them down. So I couldn’t reach any of the Resistance leaders directly but I managed to contact one of the local village headmen, a man called Salman. Apparently his parents, the former village headman and his wife, have just been seized by the Belsi and taken off-planet. Nobody knows why.
“Anyway, this Salman says that the Belsi have set up a huge mining operation and built a new space facility right next to it, to ship out the processed ore. The old Ystrad spaceport was destroyed during the invasion and was never rebuilt so the facility at the mine also doubles as the main spaceport. He doesn’t know what’s being mined there but it’s nothing the Ystrad ever bothered with before. He’s agreed to pass the message on to the Resistance leaders to see if they know anything and to let me know what they say, but it may take some time.”
“Okay, so we need to intercept the freighter and take a look at this ore…”
Any further discussion on the subject was interrupted by a shout from Ewan on the Comms station. “Shit. Sorry sir. The board’s just gone crazy. Everybody’s shouting at once. Signal traffic’s gone through the roof, sir.”
“Threat assessment, Number One. What are the frigates doing?”
“Two local frigates have reversed course back towards Belsia, sir. The three ships around Ystradis are inbound at full speed.”
“Helm, get us out of here. Full impulse power.”
“Sir, new contact,” Erik called.
“Where? Another freighter inbound?”
“No sir, this is a warship. It just suddenly appeared in orbit around Belsia. Running it through the database now, sir.”
“Damn! What’s going on here? How come we didn’t see it arrive?”
“It’s a Vostovian frigate, sir,” Erik reported. “From the scans, it appears to be the sister ship of the Swordfish.”
“Put the scans up on the main screen. Guns, can you confirm the identity?”
Dag looked up at the schematics on the big screen. “Yes sir. It’s probably the Destructor. She was the next ship being fitted out when the Dominator left on her last mission. If she’s sneaked in here without anybody noticing, it looks as though Vostov have fixed the problem with the shields.”
“Yes I was just thinking that,” Mikael said unhappily. “What about detection systems? Can they detect a shielded ship?”
“I can’t tell from the scans, sir, but I doubt it. There was no talk of anything like that in the pipeline when we left the shipyard.”
“Aspect change on all frigates, sir,” Frank reported.
“Heading our way?”
“No sir. They appear to be standing down. The two local frigates are still heading for Belsia but have reduced their speed; the other three have reversed course back to Ystradis. Signal traffic is dropping fast. Looks as though they’re calling off the hunt.”
“They must think that whatever spooked them in the first place, was caused by that Vostovian ship,” Mikael said. “And it appears that even Vostov can’t detect a shielded ship. Get all of that data off to Star Fleet, Number One. Tag it with the name Destructor. Helm reduce power to one quarter impulse and maintain course to the intercept point. We’ll sit and wait for that freighter outside the Belsi system.”
***
Before they left the system, Mikael had ordered a surveillance probe left behind to monitor ship movements and some hours earlier it had reported the freighter finally breaking orbit. They watched now as it came into range of the Swordfish’s own scanners.
“Freighter approaching on predicted course, sir,” Frank reported.
“Do we know where she’s headed,” Mikael asked. “Has she filed a flight plan?”
“Manifest lists ores destined for the foundries on Branden, sir, which would be entirely logical. However, she’s never going to get to Branden on this course.”
“So she’s either planning a major course change once she’s out of detection range or she’s headed somewhere else. Extrapolate her course. Let’s see where that would take us.”
“If she maintains her current course, she’s headed out towards the Rim, sir.”
“Vostov! Any change in the status of that frigate?”
“Probe reports she’s still in orbit around Belsia, sir.”
“Okay, so it doesn’t look as though she’s there on escort duty. We’re well beyond the detection range of any of the Belsi systems so if we prevent the freighter from sending out a distress call, they won’t find out about the stop and search until it’s all over.
“Helm, put us on a parallel course but allow the freighter to catch up with us. When she does so, match speed and put us alongside at 500 metres. Electronics, set up a comms barrier to enclose both ships. Leave me with local comms but nothing gets out.”
Even just idling along, it took another thirty minutes before Fleurie could manoeuvre them alongside.
“Comms barrier established, sir,” Erik reported. “We’re inside a sphere two kilometres across and I’ve left a probe outside to check that nothing gets through.”
“Guns, take the stealth system off-line,” Mikael ordered. “Comms, open a channel to the freighter.
“Freighter Sigma Aurelis, this is His Imperial Majesty’s frigate Swordfish. Standby to be boarded for routine inspection.”
There was no reply from the freighter.
“Sir, we have increased
power output from the target,” Frank reported. “And she’s turning hard to port.”
“Helm, maintain position on her starboard flank.”
“She’s sending a distress call, sir,” Ewan said.
“Barrier’s holding, sir,” Erik called out. “Probe reports no signal outside the barrier.”
“Right Comms, resend the hail.”
The reply this time was almost instantaneous. “Swordfish, Sigma Aurelis. We are an unarmed merchantman in a non-combat area. You have no authority to board and inspect us.”
It was the reply that Mikael was expecting. “Guns, bring one of the port phasor batteries online.”
Mikael waited a few seconds for the phasors to power up and then re-opened the comms channel.
“Captain, if you check your scanners again, I think you will be able to see my authority.”
There was a brief silence and then a stream of invective poured out of the speakers. Mikael made a cutting motion in front of his throat and Ewan closed the channel.
“Tell the bosun to put together a boarding party with full weapons and body armour and meet me at the boat station. Ensign Jonson, you come with me. You have the bridge, Number One.”
The little cutter raced across the intervening space and docked with the forward airlock just behind the bridge of the freighter. The boarding party cycled through the airlock to be met by a large, red faced man with captain’s bars on his shoulder, backed by two equally large crewmen with laser assault rifles aimed in their direction.
“Captain,” Mikael began, “I assume these men are an honour guard. Please tell them to lower their weapons and engage the safeties before my bosun here thinks that they are being unfriendly.”
The captain glared at Mikael who returned the stare with a coolness he wasn’t entirely sure he felt. Eventually the captain made a hand signal and the crewmen moved to cradle the rifles across their chests.