A Faded Star

by Michael Freeport

  “Yes, sir. How did you convince Ktenu to send everything?”

  “Your hunch was correct. After I had got off the comm with you, I resumed my conversation with Ktenu last night. His people are more than just in need of these supplies. They are truly desperate. I suspect they aren't as well prepared for an all out crab assault as they have led us to believe either. The way the command council acts towards us, like we are an unpleasant truth they have to face each time we talk to them, makes me think they intend to use us for as long as possible.”

  “No matter how morally corrupt we are to them, we can do things they refuse to allow themselves. They won't attack the crabs, and we will.” Hanlon smirked to herself.

  “What is it, Captain?”

  “Oh, I know you don't like my sense of humor, sir. I still think of things I find funny from time to time, though.”

  “You may indulge yourself, captain.”

  “Oh, well, I was thinking while we have them at a disadvantage, we should get them to turn over command of their factory ship. I was imagining the look Ktenu's face would have if we suggested such a thing.”

  “I'm sure he'd have an apoplexy.” Drogue motioned Hanlon to walk with him towards the boarding tube to the Broadsword.

  Hanlon followed the admiral and said, “Have you worked out how we can gain control of the salvage ship once the third raid is complete, sir?”?

  Drogue glanced over his shoulder as the pair walked past various divisions mustering and beginning their work day aboard the Broadsword. “Once the third raid is complete, I plan to come up with some premise to allow us to get a boarding party over to the salvage ship. I have a few possibilities in mind.”

  Hanlon paused while following the admiral. After a moment, she wondered if he planned to enlighten her as to his plans. “May I ask what your ideas are, sir?”

  “Why don't you tell me, captain? How would you get a boarding party on the salvage ship immediately following a combat action?”

  Hanlon was taken aback by his question. Although Drogue had mellowed slightly as their working relationship had developed, he very rarely sought her input once he had made a decision. “Um, I think the request to board the ship would have to appear legitimate to the alliance crew. The trick would to be to come up with a reason that made it look like we needed something aboard the salvage ship.” Hanlon paused while she thought. Drogue eyed her expectantly. Hanlon continued, “If we were recently in combat, we might need some of the salvaged materials to refit before departing the system.”

  Drogue gave her a nod and just a hint of a smile. “Excellent, Captain. I arrived at the same conclusion. There are two systems on each ship that must be functional for us to transit back to the alliance base. The gravity well generator and the EM field generator that protects us from interstellar dust. Both of these systems require some amount of the target materials. If one or both of these systems were critically damaged in the fire fight, we should be able to make a plausible case to send a shuttle or two to the salvage ship to get those materials to effect repairs.

  “Rather than send over a crew of technicians to retrieve those materials, we'll send over a boarding party to take control of the ship and fly it to the Lashmere system. Once we've taken a share of the materials, the salvage ship will be released back to alliance territory. I'm hopeful the alliance will accept the materials we leave them with and not make an issue of it. I think once we report the alliance is responsible for the near extinction of humanity, the mutual aid pact will rapidly be put to an end, regardless.”

  “With luck, the alliance will be too busy defending themselves against the crabs to try to come and take what we have.”

  Drogue nodded. The pair entered the bridge. Watkins and Kelper were already there, having just completed the morning brief with their divisions. “Put me on the general announcing circuit, Mister Watkins.”

  “Aye, sir.” Watkins tapped a control and then said, “You're on, Admiral.”

  “Crew of the Broadsword, today we are completing our load-out and preparing for our raids. The alliance has seen fit to provide us with a full load of foodstuffs, spare parts and damage control materials. We've rehearsed these actions over the last week and, despite what the alliance government thinks, we have a decisive advantage over the crab ships. Today, we will finish our preparations. Minimum watch stations and mandatory maintenance only. All non-vital crew are to have as much rest and relaxation as possible. Tomorrow we begin maneuvering out of space dock at oh-six hundred. This is Admiral Drogue, out.”

  Hanlon oversaw the stores load and installation of the damage control equipment over the next five hours. Once her tasks were complete, she retired to her cabin and spent time reading a book until it was time to sleep. That night, she dreamed a dream she had had many times before. Always before she left on a mission, she dreamt of standing at the peak of a mountain, far above the clouds. Fierce, freezing wind whipping at her while she held her arms out to either side, as if welcoming it. The dream was vivid, and she always remembered when she had this particular dream.

  The offensive squadron left space dock the next morning and began its six day transit to the first system to be raided. The transit was quiet, almost routine. Everyone in the crew knew they were going to fight, but they had known that was likely from the time they volunteered to join the expeditionary force. Battle drills were held several times a day to maximize the efficiency and familiarity of each crew with their assigned ship. The arrival at the first system was equally uneventful. Drogue had ordered the five ship formation to come out of faster than light well outside the system to avoid triggering any kind of early warning system.

  Hanlon came up to the bridge a few minutes after the ships had come out of faster than light travel. Drogue, Kelper, and Watkins were already there.

  “Good morning, sir,” Hanlon said. “How far out of the system did we arrive?”

  “About six hours, right on target. We're setting up passive sensors now. If alliance intelligence is correct, they have no more than one destroyer class ship and between five or six corvettes escorting a small group of cargo ships. We've timed our arrival so we can slip in between their departure from the crab base and their jump out point. With luck, we'll get one of the larger convoys.”

  “Are we to destroy the cargo ships as well, Admiral?”

  “We plan to unless they offer terms of surrender. The crabs have a larger force in the system that we probably can't defeat so timing must be precise.”

  “Have we gained contact with the alliance salvage ship?”

  “We sent confirmation of undetected arrival a few minutes ago. They're ready to make a short trip in. We'll have to relay exact coordinates to them so they can arrive as close to the salvage areas as possible.”

  Watkins swiveled the low backed stool he sat on at his station and said, “Sir, if I may, what is the expected response time from the system picketing force?”

  “Alliance intelligence estimates it would take them between six and eight hours to respond to an incursion this far out in the system. Our analysis of alliance intelligence also suggests they may leave a portion of their force on station in case this attack is a feint in preparation to attacking the system as a whole. While the alliance is unable to take offensive action, the crabs are an entirely different matter. They may decide we're committing ourselves to an all out attack to try to regain some of the lost territory.”

  “I see, sir. Thank you.” Watkins returned his attention to his console.

  Time passed slowly for everyone involved. The ships slid through the dead of space, using only the slightest of their available engine power to minimize the chances of being detected. The gravitational distortions caused by the alliance and human ships were detectable at exponentially longer ranges as rates of acceleration increased.

  Once the ships were in position, Drogue sent the squadron to battle stations. Fortunately, the crabs had been polite enough to schedule their departure for late in the afternoon f
or the ship's 'day'. Of the three raids, this was the trickiest and also had the biggest potential payoff.

  Watkins said, “I've got the convoy on passive sensors, admiral.”

  “Put the data up on the forward screen,” Drogue said.

  The display came to life, showing a series of indistinct, fuzzy blobs. “Sorry, the resolution is still pretty poor at this range, sir,” Watkins said. “It looks like at least four convoy ships, possibly five,” Watkins added sensor data to each of the fuzzy blobs. “There are six larger signals and five smaller ones. In effect, the larger ones could all be either destroyers or cargo ships. To be safe, I have presumed two destroyers along with seven escorts.”

  “Very good, Mister Watkins. Miss Kelper, warm up the weapons system. Keep our power signature below the crab sensor threshold.”

  “Aye, sir,” Kelper said. “Weapons system will be active in just over two minutes.”

  “Very well. Mister Watkins, time to weapons range?”

  “They're decelerating for their FTL transit now, sir. At the current rate, they'll enter weapons range in sixteen minutes. When do you want me to begin using active sensors?”

  “Wait until they're one minute outside of weapons range. It won't take long to get positive weapons targeting since we already know pretty much where they are and who is who.”

  “Aye, sir,” Watkins said.

  Everyone watched the countdown to active sensors on the forward display. Hanlon felt the tension level rising steadily as the numbers got smaller and smaller. Despite the advantage in firepower the small squadron of ships had, very few of the officers and crew in the expeditionary force were veterans of the Ebrim-Karn war. Hanlon's thoughts wandered to the dream she'd had the night before. Once again, she was standing on the freezing mountain. Unlike previous repetitions of the dream, it was not the beginning of a mission, but in the midst of one. Something had felt slightly different about the dream this time as well. Just before she'd come awake, she had looked up and something, a tiny black dot had been visible in the sky above her. For years, that dream had repeated itself without variation of any kind she could remember. This was the first time things had changed. She wondered at the significance of the black dot in the sky above her. Glancing at the screen, she realized with a start the ship was about to begin its active scans.

  “Mister Watkins engage active sensors as ordered,” Hanlon said.

  “Aye, ma'am. Engaging active sensors.” The return was immediate at this range. “Five cargo ships, one destroyer and seven escort class ships confirmed. The warships are powering their weapons systems. It looks like they didn't detect the other ships.”

  “Are the other ships in position?”

  “Yes, sir. I'm getting active scans from all four destroyers. The convoy flew right past them.”

  “Miss Kelper, fire at will.”

  “Aye, sir. Firing main gun now.”

  The weapon shrieked its destructive power forward into the oncoming bow of the crab destroyer. Sensors updated immediately, showing a massive hole ripped into the front of the ship.

  “Damage report on the destroyer, Watkins.”

  “It's heavily damaged, sir. Next shot should finish them off. Five of the escorts are down, Rapier got a second shot off already.”

  “Good. Fire again as soon as the main gun is recharged.”

  “Aye, sir. Firing.”

  The destroyer burst into a rapidly expanding collection of fragments. The ship's reactor failed just after the hit, causing a blinding flash to illuminate the bridge.

  “Target the lead cargo hauler, attempt to disable only,” Drogue said.

  “Aye, sir. Firing at thirty percent power, Admiral,” Kelper said. The shot took the first cargo ship exactly where intelligence placed the crab bridge. The ship began to tumble immediately, out of control.

  Hanlon said, “Target the next freighter.”

  “Aye, ma'am. Firing now.”

  The second ship lurched to the side and began venting atmosphere and fluids from the hull breach cause by the impact. The ship made a wobbly effort to turn away from Broadsword when Dirk nailed the bridge with a follow up shot. The ship stopped maneuvering and drifted slowly along its trajectory, carried only by momentum. The other three freighters were all disabled.

  “Signal to the squadron: Good shooting everyone. Send a message to the alliance salvage ship to get in here and start picking up this salvage.”

  “Aye, sir,” Watkins said. He worked at his console for a moment and then spoke again. “Alliance ship ETA one minute. Also, active sensors show the crab force mobilizing to head in this direction. Looks like four battlecruisers, ten cruisers, and twelve destroyers. Unclear on escorts, the range is too great to get clear readings with all the other large ships around.”

  “What's their ETA, Mister Watkins?” Hanlon asked.

  “Unclear at this time. The formation is still getting together. Once they start accelerating, I'll be able to project a reasonable estimate, ma'am.”

  “Very well. Once you have a good estimate, put it on the forward display.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  The alliance salvage ship arrived. Hanlon turned her display to view the ship. It was her first time seeing the vessel. It was strangely unlike the design of the rest of the alliance ships. All of the alliance ships she'd seem so far were two part designs with large conical sections at both ends of one to six cylindrical connections between them. The salvage and factory ship was completely different. A large, ring shaped ship nearly a kilometer in diameter. It moved in towards the drifting debris.

  “Sir, we're getting a message from the salvage ship. They recommend we move away from the wreckage.”

  “Very well. Helm set course towards the edge of the system full thrust for five minutes then drop to zero thrust. Have the rest of the squadron form up on us.”

  “Aye, sir,” The helmsman said.

  Hanlon said, “What do you think of that salvage ship, Admiral?”

  “It's odd. None of the other alliance ships appear to be built with the same design philosophy. I had expected something like the Broadsword, but far larger with an assemblage of arms and hatches to cut up and take in as much of the wreckage as possible. I'm not sure how that ship, despite how massive it is will take in all of the ships we disabled and destroyed.”

  “It should be interesting to see, sir.”

  The forward display showed the ship maneuvering to pass all twelve wrecks through its center. The ship slowed to a crawl as it approached the first freighter. The area in the center of the ship began to glow dimly, and the ship just appeared to start ripping itself apart. Streams of ship bits flowed along visible pathways into openings spaced around the inside of the ring like ship. Hanlon and Drogue exchanged incredulous looks at one another.

  “It must use some variant of the demolecularizing technology the alliance installed on these ships. I wish I knew how it got the materials to flow into the ship so neatly,” Hanlon said.

  Drogue said, “It's an impressive display of technology. See, it's gathering up most of the debris from the destroyer as well.”

  The display showed most of the larger fragments of the destroyed ship flowing into streams of material and entering the alliance ship. The process It looks for each ship from the defeated convoy. Hanlon fought off a growing sense of unease.

  “Admiral, I'm concerned about this ship. If it represents the level of technology the alliance has, I wonder if these ships aren't just bottom of the barrel surplus they gave us to go get killed in.”

  “I don't think so, captain. If that were the case, wouldn't the ships Ktenu flew in be more like this salvage ship? Perhaps this ship is just highly specialized. Its design may be mandated by the function it performs.”

  “I see. You're probably right, sir,” Hanlon said.

  “We're getting a signal from the alliance ship,” Watkins said.

  “What do they have to say?” Hanlon said.

  “They've completed
their operation and are ready to depart. Also, the crab force is still more than five hours away on their current flight profile.”

  “Very well,” Drogue said. “Signal all ships to engage faster than light transit at the predesignated point. Rendezvous at the next system as scheduled.”

  “Aye, sir. Signaling all ships now.”

  A series of brilliant flashes of light marked the departure of the offensive squadron and the salvage ship from the L1131 system.

  Admiral Drogue called for an after action report the next morning, once everyone had had a chance to rest and prepare written accounts of their performance.

  Drogue, Hanlon, Watkins, and Kelper walked into the conference room. Four displays were already on and showed the command crews from the other four ships in the squadron.

  Admiral Drogue sat down and said, “Good morning, everyone. We're just going to go over the attack carried out yesterday and see if there are any areas we can improve our performance. Miss Hanlon, would you give us the overview, please?”

  “Yes, sir. The total time in action was approximately thirteen minutes. In that time, all five ships used their main guns to a high degree of effectiveness. Three ships were destroyed outright; the crab destroyer and two escorts. All five freighters were salvaged in their entirety. A report from the salvage ship indicates they are at seventy percent capacity for material storage. The next trip may bring them over capacity, but they have a plan for that as well. Apparently, the alliance salvage ship has the ability to smelt the salvage into large blocks of pure metals and alloys. Those blocks can be stored aboard the Broadsword as needed. They can also be left at a spot in space so the alliance can return later to retrieve them.

  “The Rapier has the highest kill count. Three escorts disabled and one freighter. The remaining destroyers all got one escort and one freighter. Broadsword took out the destroyer and disabled one freighter. The attack was preformed exactly as planned. None of the crab ships had time to react to our attack. Active sensors were engaged forty seconds before the first shot was taken. With the destroyer defeated in the first minute of action, we hypothesize there was little to no effective command and control for the remaining warships. Although three ships did manage to effectively begin evasive maneuvers against us, the fact that they were surrounded by four destroyers made it impossible for them to escape. During the attack, only the Rapier and Poniard took hits, both of them minor.”