Crimson Worlds Refugees: The First Trilogy

by Jay Allan

  The ship itself was completely dead, but they’d already managed to accidently activate half a dozen security bots. They’d been able to knock them all out, but not before the deadly automatons had killed two and wounded half a dozen others. One of the dead had been from Cutter’s team and the other one of Frasier’s Marines.

  The bots appeared to be unconnected to the ship’s main systems, operating independently, responding to threats as they appeared. Still, he’d detected no power from any type of scanners, absolutely nothing but the single source he knew was the antimatter containment system. How were these bots detecting anything if they had no energy output whatsoever?

  No energy we can detect, he thought suddenly. Dark energy, maybe? The alloy of the First Imperium hulls was infused with a mysterious form of dark matter. Now Cutter wondered if the ancient aliens had also learned how to manipulate dark energy. He stopped suddenly.

  “Is something wrong, Hieronymus?” Ana Zhukov had been walking right behind, and she almost ran into him.

  “Dark energy,” he said, his voice soft, distracted. “The First Imperium is able to utilize dark energy, at least for some purposes…like communications.” He turned and looked back at her. “Don’t you see? It explains everything. The original distress call from Epsilon Eridani IV, the seeming ability of the First Imperium to communicate through warp gates, the security bots that seem to have scanners running with no detectable energy output…”

  “Yes,” she said softly. “Of course. It would explain everything, wouldn’t it? Or at least it might. But we know almost nothing about dark energy, Hieronymus. So it’s just a wild guess at this point.”

  “It’s more than that, Ana.” His voice was becoming firmer as he spoke. He’d been unsure a moment before, but now he was totally convinced. “There is no question the enemy can communicate in ways we can neither detect nor explain. And you yourself have run the scans here. There is no energy output we can trace, no scanning system running in the background. Yet, we have activated multiple defensive bots as we’ve explored. Scanners require some kind of energy to operate. If we question this assertion we have to abandon everything we understand about physics, right?”

  She nodded. “Agreed…”

  “So if there must be energy usage and we cannot detect it, we are dealing with some sort of undetectable energy, correct?”

  “Yes,” she said tentatively. “But…”

  “There is no but. Dark energy is the only undetectable form of energy we have posited to exist. It is vastly more likely we are dealing with dark energy than something completely unknown.” He sighed. “Still, even if we accept this as fact, I’m not sure what it does for us, at least in the short term. We’ve never been able to detect dark energy flows before, despite centuries of research. We may know what we’re dealing with, but that won’t have any impact unless we can find a way to scan for it…or block it.”

  Cutter sighed. “I wish Friederich was here. He would understand this better than I do.” Friederich Hofstader had been Cutter’s mentor years before. Hofstader was a physicist, generally accepted as the world’s most knowledgeable. Cutter’s studies had begun in that field, but his greatest work had been in the areas of artificial intelligences and quantum computing. And now he was staring at an enormous physics problem.

  “You realize what this means, Hieronymus? If the First Imperium can manipulate dark energy sources that we can’t even detect, we can never be sure something is truly dead.” She looked around. “Even this ship may still be more functional than we thought.”

  “Perhaps. We can only speculate what knowledge the First Imperium possesses that we do not. It would be an error to assume their science is a simple progression forward of ours. Our understanding of the universe is incomplete…and in some ways almost certainly in error. Some forms of advancement manifest in the execution of an idea. Planes, for example. An observer from the middle ages could imagine such a thing was possible. Indeed, he would have seen birds flying many times. But could he have imagined a radio transmitting voices across hundreds of kilometers? The concept would have been totally new to him.”

  “I think you are right, Hieronymus.” She paused. “We can only guess at what they can utilize this power for. We simply don’t know enough about dark energy to make truly educated projections.”

  “They use matter-antimatter annihilation to power their vessels and weapons. And Epsilon Eridani IV provides some evidence that they produce their antimatter using highly advanced—but conventional—energy generation. So we can make a reasonable assumption that they do not have the capacity to utilize dark energy for most of their needs.’

  “Or that it is not as efficient a power source for weapons and spaceship drives.” Ana’s tone was tentative at first, but it slowly firmed up as she spoke. “However, we must infer that they have the capacity to utilize dark energy for communications purposes, which means we can never be sure if they are in contact with other First Imperium units or intelligences.”

  “I am inclined to agree,” Cutter replied. “The only way we can be sure to sever contact with commands and data flows from outside is to physically destroy all their communications gear. Including the dark energy units. And we have no idea what to look for in those.”

  “Dr. Cutter?” It was Frasier’s voice on the com.

  “Yes, Major?”

  “I think we’ve found something. I’m with a team of your people right now, and they’ve found what they think is the main data center.”

  Cutter felt a rush of excitement. He turned and looked over at Ana before continuing. “That is good news, Major. Transmit your location, and we’ll be right there.”

  * * *

  “I have never even imagined anything like this.” Cutter’s voice was distracted. His eyes were fixed on a long row of cylinders, three deep and stretching as far as he could see in the dim light of the portable lamps. Each of the shiny-metallic tubes was a meter across and five meters high. “I can’t even begin to guess at the knowledge stores this unit possesses.” He turned his eyes to a large spherical structure built from some clear polymer. It was three meters in diameter and mounted in a large metallic base. It was dark inside, but he could see the shadowy outlines of a lattice-like web of filaments.

  The main processing unit…

  The room was enormous, like nothing he’d ever seen in a spaceship. Of course you’ve never seen a ship this large before. As far as he could tell, they were almost dead center in the vessel’s interior. Exactly where I’d expect to find the intelligence.

  “So this is what we’ve been looking for then?” Connor Frasier was standing right behind Cutter. Admiral Compton had been clear when the expedition set out from the fleet. Frasier was to protect the scientist at all costs.

  “Almost certainly, Major,” Cutter replied. “This is a computer…or at least a far more advanced version of what we call a computer. I’m fairly certain these cylinders are data storage units.” He pointed toward the sphere. “And I’d wager that is the main processing unit…the intelligence itself, so to speak.”

  He turned and walked toward the opposite wall. There were screens and a number devices that looked like keyboards of some kind. And chairs. Cutter stopped and put his hand on the back of one of the seats. My God, he thought. This looks like almost like a workstation on Midway. He’d often imagined what the beings that had created the First Imperium looked like. He suspected almost everyone had. Based on the designs of their battle robots, the general assumption had been they were moderately similar to humans. But these workstations looked like they’d been designed for humans.

  “This ship definitely had a crew once…and based on these chairs, and the other things we’ve seen, they looked a hell of a lot like us, at least in basic size and structure.”

  Ana was a few meters back, with half a dozen team members standing behind her. “We need to find an input device before we even consider trying to activate this thing.” She stepped forward, stopping right n
ext to Cutter. “And we have to disable the communications systems.”

  “Finding the com might be the most difficult part of this. Besides the sheer size of this ship, we have no idea what a dark energy communications unit looks like.” He sighed and paused for a few seconds. “We might have to take the risk of trying to activate the AI…and count on getting control quickly enough to order it to shut down the communications network.

  “What if that doesn’t work?” Gregor Kahn was standing behind Ana. He was the best and brightest of the team they’d brought with them, but he was a pain in the ass too.

  Cutter turned and walked toward the row of workstations, his eyes panning along the equipment that looked both strange and familiar.

  “Then we die, Gregor.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Excerpt from After Action Report, Mariko Fujin, Lieutenant, Commanding Gold Dragon Squadron

  There is only one thing I can say about my comrades in the Gold Dragon Squadron…in the Battle of X18, uncommon valor was a common virtue.

  Fighter-Bomber A001 – “Pit Viper”

  X18 System - Enroute to AS Midway from Planet IV

  The Fleet: 225 ships, 47,817 crew

  “Greta, get the rest of your birds launched…now!” The voice was crisp, firm. Battle was upon them all, and Terrance Compton was ready.

  “On it, sir,” she replied. Hurley was hunched over her screen, organizing her squadrons. She’d restricted her earlier launch order to Alliance and PRC wings, the ones she knew for sure were 100% loyal, but now she was sending every fighter that could fly into the fight. She preferred to execute meticulously-planned operations, the kind of well-choreographed assaults that had made her the uncontested master of fighter tactics. But there was no time. The fleet was too close to the warp gate, and the enemy would be on them too quickly. If her birds were going to make a difference in this fight, it had to be now, in a mad and chaotic assault, organization and tactics be damned.

  Compton sat quietly for a few seconds, watching as the waves of enemy ships continued to pour through the warp gate. There were a lot of them…and they were moving at high velocity. Their vector wasn’t directly at the fleet, but it was close enough. First Imperium ships could blast their engines at 60g, more than enough to adjust their heading without slowing down at all.

  He flipped on the fleetwide com line. “Attention all vessels. As you can all see, we have a large enemy force transiting into the system. We’ve got ourselves a battle, and that supersedes any other considerations. Whatever disputes we have had, I urge you all now to forget them and join me in facing the First Imperium fleet. They are the enemy. They are who we should be fighting. Not each other.”

  Compton was still angry about what had happened, but he realized none of that was important anymore. He pushed it away, to the back of his mind. He’d been dead serious with his threats. He’d had no intention of letting the mutineers get away with their treachery, at least not the officers. And he had been prepared to fight it out, despite knowing what a wasteful and pointless exercise that would have been. But he no longer had the luxury of being so “by the book.” The urgency of battle brought clarity to him, and the imminent death the First Imperium fleet carried with it sharpened his focus. He had almost made a terrible mistake, and now he was reminded how little chance of survival his people had unless they stood as one. They simply could no longer indulge old prejudices or grievances, not if they wanted to live.

  “Fight now, all of you. Stand with me, and I will stand with you. Defeat the enemy here, win the victory as you have so many times before, and we will move forward from this point, forgetting all that has happened. Man your posts, fight like the devils I had at my side in X2, show these machines what a human fleet can do...and we will prevail again. These robots think we are parasites, nothing but primitive vermin to be exterminated. Let’s give them another lesson…NOW!”

  Compton sighed hard. Of all the pre-battle speeches he had given, this one had been the hardest. Looking past mutiny, trusting again in officers who had just betrayed him…it went against every instinct he had. But Terrance Compton was nothing if not a realist, and one look at the scanner told him all he had to know. He needed every vessel in this fight.

  “I am with you, Admiral Compton.” Udinov’s voice blasted onto the com a few seconds after Compton finished. All RIC units are to obey the fleet admiral. Fight now, as you have never fought…and send these machines to whatever hell they came from.”

  Compton smiled. He wasn’t surprised, not really. For all that had happened—the mutiny, his own rage, his willingness to blow Petersburg to bits—he’d always considered Vladimir Udinov to be a good officer. They were all on new ground now, and he knew the Russian admiral had only been doing what he felt was right for his people. Compton wanted to nurse his self-righteous rage, but he had to acknowledge he might have done something similar if their roles had been reversed.

  Indeed, Compton himself had not hesitated to disobey command directives during the colonial rebellions…orders that would have seen his fleet bombard an Alliance world and kill millions. He was considered a hero now only because the rebellions succeeded, at least partially, and because the First Imperium invasion turned all attention toward defense and survival. Had Alliance Gov crushed the revolt, Compton had no doubt he’d have faced disgrace and execution.

  A few seconds later, Lord Samar came on the com, issuing similar orders to the Caliphate contingent. Even Gregoire Peltier managed a brief rallying cry to his forces. Only Zhang remained silent, though even without his command, over half of the CAC ships began to maneuver back into the fleet’s formation. Whatever disputes they may have had, the spacers and their officers had pushed them aside. The fleet would fight again as one.

  “All squadrons launching now, sir.” Hurley’s voice was tense. He could feel her frustration at not being at their head.

  “It will be okay, Admiral,” he said. “I’d love to go with you and get a close look at the enemy for once, but I need to get back to Midway. Still, you can refuel and be back out here in a few minutes, I suspect…in plenty of time to make the party. Especially if you stand behind Chief McGraw and keep your foot up his ass while he’s turning your bird around.”

  “Yes, sir.” Hurley suppressed a laugh, most of it at least. She’d just been thinking about how to motivate McGraw to set a new record in arming and refueling her ship.

  “Commander Wilder, I’m told you’re the best pilot in the fleet, by none other than your illustrious admiral here.” Compton nodded and gave Wilder a quick smile. “So let’s see how quickly you can get me back aboard Midway.

  * * *

  Vladimir Udinov felt almost relieved as he watched the scanner, following Petersburg’s movement toward the First Imperium fleet. The robot ships were cold and deadly, the product of a science far beyond man’s. But the Russian admiral had fought them before and his people had blown them to hell. The First Imperium was a nightmare to battle, but they had nothing that would make him sweat like trying to stare down Erica West.

  “Approaching missile range, Admiral.” Stanovich sounded relieved in the same illogical way. He too had fought the First Imperium forces before, and he knew just how deadly they were. But, for all the strength and technology of the enemy, at least this was a straight up fight. The standoff with Midway had been one of the most deeply stressful experiences in his life, and he was glad it was over—even if the alternative was to leap into the fire.

  “Prepare to flush the racks, Commander. All vessels may launch when ready.” Udinov had been impressed with Aki Kato’s daring missile attack, and he felt the urge to replicate the bold maneuver. But Compton had expressly forbidden it. Kato’s near-reckless expedited release of his external racks had allowed him to launch a devastating volley against the enemy in X2. But Kato’s ships had been doomed already, too battered to keep up with the fleet and destined to be left behind. The PRC captain and his skeleton crews had been unconcerned with further damage
and determined to hit as hard as they could before abandoning their vessels.

  Udinov’s ships, however, were not expendable, and taking damage releasing their own racks was too much of a risk. There was a brutal fact about this battle just beginning, something everyone in the fleet understood, but most tried to ignore. If they couldn’t defeat the enemy, and they had to flee, any ship that was too badly damaged in the fight was likely to be abandoned. And if the fleet was running for its life, it was unlikely there would be time to shuttle the crews off before vessels were left behind. Enough ships would suffer that fate at the hands of the enemy without adding to the gruesome total.

  Udinov felt Petersburg shake as her external missiles fired. Rack-mounted ordnance could increase a vessel’s firepower by almost 40%, but the system was logistically intensive, requiring the entire superstructure to be replaced between battles. That had been difficult enough back in human space, with bases and lines of supply. But Udinov knew they’d be lucky to manage one more reload from their dwindling stores. After that, they’d be down to the missiles in the internal magazines. Until they ran out of those too.

  That’s tomorrow’s problem. Today’s is surviving the next few hours.

  “I want all racks cleared in ten minutes, Commander. Advise all ships. Anyone who is still messing around in ten minutes, ten seconds owes me his ass.”

  “Yes, Admiral.” Stanovich hesitated, just for a second. Udinov wasn’t demanding a turnaround as fast as the few seconds Kato’s people had managed with their soon-to-be-abandoned ships, but it was damned quick nevertheless.

  Udinov leaned back in his chair. Compton was right all along. If we’d somehow managed to find a way home, we’d have brought death with us…like some dead ship drifting into port carrying a plague. It was selfish, reckless even, to try.