“Tactical, kill the active sensors. OPS, secure Link transponder,” Celesta ordered. “That ship knows where we’re at but let’s not advertise that we’re charging back at full speed. The longer it takes for it to know what we’re doing the further the Aludra Star gets and the better chance we’ll have to take a real shot at it when we arrive.”
A chorus of affirmatives met her orders as she settled down for a tense few hours. Despite having been on an extended mission when taking into account their failed effort to reestablish contact with the Ushin, the ship was ready to fight as was her crew. The RDS required significantly less power than magneto-plasma engines under normal operating conditions so they were still carrying plenty of fuel and their expendables were still in the green. The only thing she had to worry about was engaging the enemy and getting it to hold still long enough for her to shove a Shrike down its throat. It had taken her by surprise before, but she was more than confident that her ship would drop the hammer on it if they met head-to-head.
As the frantic activity subsided and her crew settled in to prepare for the coming engagement, a random thought flitted through her head: Where the hell was Pike and why was he even here?
“Well … this was unexpected,” Pike said to Essa as they stared at the sensor readings. They’d been drifting in high orbit over Juwel, scanning the surface, talking to the ground forces to get their unofficial report on the campaign, and checking out the alien construct in the western sea that Wolfe had fired upon. As the Broadhead completed its third orbit they were nearly blinded by a flash and then, below them, the Darshik stealth ship was also over the planet.
“So, what do you want to do?” Essa asked. He almost sounded bored as they recorded every detail of the ship from close range including all the battle scars inflicted by the Relentless and the Aludra Star. It looked like some effort had been made at repairing the hull coating, but there were still gaps where bare metal was visible.
“Other than perform a Jackson Wolfe special and just ram it there’s little we can do,” Pike said. “This thing doesn’t carry enough firepower to bring down a capital ship even if it was a lucky shot and I knew where to target to hit something vital.”
“I wonder why it’s just sitting there,” Essa said. “It’s within range of Neuberlin … why not start hammering the Marines while it can?”
“It’s going to try and either draw the two ships left in the system back or get them to split up,” Pike said. “If the crew is half as competent as they’ve appeared to be then they know the Aludra Star isn’t going to be able to get back—and there we go.” He indicated the alert that had just popped up on the display. “The Icarus shut off her active sensors and dropped off the Link. Wright is going to come about and try to sneak in here for a shot.”
“There has to be something we can do to help out,” Essa insisted.
Pike didn’t answer, just kept poring through the details of the running analysis his ship was performing on the Specter while the Broadhead sat silently above it.
“Well …” He scratched his chin and frowned. “The drive sections in the aft part of the ship are oddly exposed. If you look it’s almost like the ship wasn’t completed and the outer hull stops amidships. The guts of the entire aft end are exposed.”
“Why don’t they show up on radar?”
“Must be some sort of composite,” Pike shrugged. “Do you see the two large blocky things on either side, sorta angled out away from each other?”
“Yeah.”
“I’d bet you a case of very expensive Earth whiskey that those are the RDS field emitters,” Pike said. “And that would mean that thick, armored bit connected to it that doesn’t look like it’s part of the frame would be the command and power lines.”
“How expensive are we talking?” Essa asked.
“It’s actually from Scotland, so very,” Pike said.
“Okay, say I take the bet. What’s your point?”
“I can’t take this ship out as in destroy it completely, but I bet I could sever one or both of those cable assemblies,” Pike said.
“Why the hell would someone build a ship like that?” Essa asked.
“Maybe they never expected to take a hit, maybe there’s issues with their drive, maybe—Listen! Do you want to do this or sit and argue about ship building methodology?” Pike said irritably.
“Keep your shorts on.” Essa raised his hands. “So if this is so easy, why not just do it and be done with it?”
“This isn’t without risk,” Pike said. “We’ll be exposed and we’re well within weapons range. I’m banking on the fact they’ll be as surprised as we were when they showed up and it’ll give us the time to get the hell out of here.”
“I’m in,” Essa said. “So when do we spring our trap? I’d think you’d want to give Captain Wright time to be close enough to take a shot if we manage to disable it, but if you wait too long you risk the ship moving off out of range.”
“It’s been just under an hour since the Icarus dropped off the Link,” Pike said. “I don’t know how fast that ship actually is now as it’s highly classified, but I think if we take the shot within the next ninety minutes she’ll be able to hit it while it’s disabled.”
For the next hour the Broadhead’s powerful computer used the data from the optical sensors to create a targeting sequence that would simultaneously use the attitude jets to move the ship into the proper orientation and fire its four modest forward laser cannons. Pike would have loved to take a quick snapshot with the active sensors just to get a half-assed density reading on their target, but he couldn’t risk it given their proximity. It was borderline miraculous, not to mention a testament to the Tsuyo engineers, that they hadn’t yet been spotted.
“Looks like we’re ready,” he said as another forty minutes elapsed and the computer let him know it was as ready as it could be given the constraints on it.
“Let’s do it,” Essa smiled, causing Pike to scowl.
He pressed the flashing EXECUTE icon and the ship instantly pitched forward and over as the ionic jets spun them around to the proper orientation. There was a high-pitched whine as the cannons fired over and over. The lasers were invisible in space, but through the transparent forward canopy they could see the effect of their weapons fire as sparks exploded from around the areas they’d targeted.
Pike looked at the magnified view on the curved console and saw that they’d severed one of the power conduits and were now burning through the other one as the enemy ship began to move. It slowly rotated down and away from them, bringing its prow to bear on them as the Broadhead easily matched movements now that it could use its own RDS with all thoughts of hiding gone.
“That’s it!” Essa cried. “Second one just burned off!”
“Then let’s get the hell out of here!” Pike executed the second program he’d set up and the lights dimmed perceptibly as the ship’s drive pulled an enormous amount of current. In the blink of an eye the small infiltrator shot away, leaving the floundering cruiser behind and soon out of range.
“Ship, open a channel to the Icarus,” Pike said as the Broadhead climbed up and away from Juwel once it was on the other side, its diminutive stature and powerful drive allowing it to pull away without transferring to a higher orbit first.
“Channel open.”
“This is Agent Pike currently pulling away from Juwel. I believe we’ve managed to disable the enemy stealth ship by disrupting power to its main drive,” Pike said. “Recommend you switch to active sensors to acquire and destroy target. Pike out.”
“—destroy target. Pike out.”
“Tactical, active sensors,” Celesta said after the channel had closed. How had Pike managed to get close in his little spy ship and take out the main drive?
“Actives up.” Adler looked up as the threat board populated quickly since they were so close to the planet. “Target acquired. It … appears to be just sitting there, ma’am. We’re not seeing any significant damage at this r
ange, however.”
“Lock on two Shrikes and standby forward laser batteries.” Celesta was now on the edge of her seat. “Helm, brake now!” The Icarus’s relative velocity was too great for the Shrikes to be successfully deployed. They would fire, but would be unable to maneuver to the target.
“Braking maneuver, aye.”
“Velocity threshold reached,” Adler reported.
“Fire missiles!”
“Missiles one and two away!” Adler said. “Tubes reloading, laser batteries charged and locked on target … fifty seconds until we’re within range, but it will be a quick shot at this speed.”
“I’m hoping there won’t be enough left to shoot at,” Celesta said. She watched, fascinated, as the target spun around but made no effort to evade the incoming missiles. It was going to be like shooting fish in a—
“Target has disappeared,” Adler said. “Transition flash detected. I’m sorry, Captain, it jumped away right before the missiles reached it.”
“Damnit!” Celesta snarled, slamming her palms down on her armrest in a rare overt display of emotion. “Did we detect a secondary flash? Did it hop somewhere close?”
“No, ma’am,” Accari said. “The computer is constantly looking for a flash with that signature and nothing has been detected.”
“Coms, ask Agent Pike if he sees anything from where he’s at.” Celesta struggled to remain calm. “It has to still be in the system.”
“No, ma’am,” Ellison said after a few seconds. “The Broadhead didn’t pick up a second flash.”
“Tactical, spin those missiles and have them brake to a stop.” Celesta sounded suddenly weary. “We’ll need to retrieve them, CENTCOM can’t waste two Shrikes given the loss of Bespitd Depot the last time these bastards hit us.”
“Signal sent,” Adler said. “Missiles braking to a stop and entering recovery mode. Warheads safed.”
“Tell Flight OPS to send a Jacobson drone to go get them.” Celesta stood up. “Stand down from alert. Mr. Barrett, you have the bridge.”
“Would you like the Icarus to begin a patrol pattern, Captain?” Barrett asked.
“No need, XO.” She shook her head, glaring at the main display that now showed the night side of Juwel. “It’s gone. It’ll hide in the outer system and repair its drive and head home. It’ll come at us again when it has the advantage. The First Battle of Juwel is over.”
28
It was three full days since they’d last seen the Darshik ship and Celesta’s prediction had held true. There hadn’t been a reappearance of the Specter, but Pike’s ship had detected a transition flash well out in the system that indicated it had indeed fled, heading back for friendlier skies. The fact the ship had escaped her a second time had put Celesta in a foul mood, and her crew generally tried to avoid her as the Icarus monitored local space and provided occasional fire support for the Marines on the ground, who continued their seek and destroy mission for the remaining Darshik ground troops.
Pike had left right after the Aludra Star had transitioned out. He’d messaged one more time on a private, encrypted channel to tell her he was impressed that she’d come out with a single ship and had salvaged the Juwel mission, but he could tell she was in no mood to talk. Before he signed off he had mentioned going to Admiral Pitt and lobbying to get a more robust taskforce sent out to hold the system when Fleet R&S sent a team out to find out what the hell was plopped down in the ocean off the west coast.
“Captain Wright to the bridge! Captain Wright to the bridge!” It wasn’t the computer’s voice coming over the intercom, that was Accari and he sounded a bit distressed. She left her office and jogged to the bridge to find her OPS officer and XO leaned over the tactical station, jabbering away animatedly.
“What is it?” she asked brusquely.
“Transition flash detected within the system,” Barrett said. “It’s not the Specter, it’s not a standard Darshik cruiser, and it’s not one of ours.”
“Transmission coming in,” an ensign manning the com station said.
“Put it on the overheads,” Celesta said.
“This is the Ushin ship, Vol’a’atar,” the artificial voice said smoothly. “We have come in search of the Terran delegation that came under attack near the planet of our initial meeting and would continue our discussions if possible. We understand that trust is not guaranteed from your side given recent events.”
Celesta stood stock-still for a long minute, well-aware there were many eyes on her as she thought over her options. There had been no attempt at direct communication with the Ushin that hadn’t led to the loss of human lives at the hands of the Darshik. Would this be the same or would they finally be able to open a dialogue with their supposed allies? She knew it was at least important to get a toehold somewhere to put recent battles into context.
“OPS, tell Ambassador Cole he’s about to earn his paycheck,” she finally said. “Coms, reply back that they are to approach the planet slowly and halt at a range no less than seven hundred thousand kilometers and hold position while they talk to our ambassador.”
“Aye, ma’am.”
“Having them come closer here allows us to keep the planet under our protection and keep them in range as well,” Celesta explained to Barrett when she saw his furrowed brow. “To meet them further out in the system to alleviate the com lag would leave Juwel defenseless.”
“Is it really them?” Cole burst onto the bridge looking like he’d been in the middle of dressing when he’d been called.
“It appears to be,” Celesta said. “Maybe this time you’ll actually get to complete your mission.”
“We can only hope, Captain,” Cole breathed.
For the next two weeks Ambassador Cole sat through marathon sessions in an enclosed, secure com room while talking to the Ushin representatives. Celesta was invited by the Ushin to sit in on a few sessions, but her fear that the Darshik would attack while they were distracted kept her on the bridge as much as possible. She received daily briefs regarding the information she was cleared to hear from the ambassador over the evening meal they’d begun taking together in her office.
For her it was an efficient method to get the information coming from the Ushin almost as soon as it happened. For Cole it was a way for him to organize his thoughts from the day and better prepare himself for the next round of talks.
“They’re far from a homogenous society,” Cole was saying over a meal of overcooked pasta and a bland, almost tasteless tomato-based sauce. The galley crew were having to get creative with the dwindling food stocks. “They’re a fractured and fractious people, even more so than our own enclaves though they’ve been a spacefaring people far, far longer than we have.”
“How is that possible? Their ships aren’t any more advanced than our own save for a few specialized capabilities,” Celesta said. His sonorous voice and tendency towards oration over conversation had begun to wear on her nerves.
“The same reason our ship design had stagnated for centuries before the Phage: lack of need,” Cole said. “Only recently have they even had a need for a martial force.”
“Because of the Darshik?” She saw the reaction when she said the name and her eyes narrowed.
“I actually meant because of the Phage.” Cole said, recovering quickly.
“The Phage attacked the Darshik, not the Ushin,” Celesta pressed. “What aren’t you saying? Or more specifically, what are you not allowed to say?”
Cole set his napkin down and leaned back, looking her in the eye. “You have to understand that I’m a one-man-show on this mission,” he said finally. “I’m creating classification levels on information as I get it and usually arbitrarily. It’ll likely all be gutted and reclassified when we get back to Terran space.”
“So technically nothing you tell me is above my clearance level since you’re setting the classifications,” she reasoned. “Unless there’s a specific reason I can’t be trusted with this information.”
“Well played,
Captain,” Cole sighed. “Very well … there is no such species as the Darshik.”
“You have my complete attention.” Celesta set down her utensils.
“We misunderstood during our initial meetings,” he continued. “The word Darshik roughly translates to worshipers in our language, but it’s a bit more nuanced than that. The Darshik are Ushin that have only recently splintered off and built their society around key people who learned their lessons from events so horrific—”
“The initial Phage attack,” Celesta finished.
“Precisely,” Cole nodded. “Only four planets were attacked by the Phage when they met the Ushin, and those societies were found to be of little threat so the core mind decided to use their systems as staging areas, breeding grounds, and logistical hubs.
“Swarms of Alphas would stream through their system and once in a great while the Phage would deign to talk to the Ushin there. It … changed them.”
“We become what we fear most,” Celesta repeated a line she’d always remembered from her time in school.
“Indeed,” Cole said. “When Jackson Wolfe killed the Phage and all the individual units became inert, refusing to talk to the Darshik, they became increasingly agitated, convinced they’d displeased their overseers. You have to understand that many generations of Ushin were born and died with Phage units in their skies and along the way they began to deify them despite being a society that had evolved well past base superstitions.”
“But in its death throes the core mind got a message to the Ushin, telling them who was responsible for killing it,” Celesta argued.
“Yes, but only a select few ever actually talked to the Phage in their system. And those Ushin, now Darshik, interpreted that message as a call to arms,” Cole said. “You know where the story picks up from there as you’re the one who found the Ares in the Xi’an System.
“When the other Ushin found out about what their reclusive violent sect was about to do they made plans to reach out to us. The Darshik found out and razed two Ushin worlds to the tune of billions dead. The Ushin leadership was shaken to the core. It was no longer about trying to warn the humans of Darshik aggression, it was now about trying to enlist our help in dealing with what had become a grave threat to their very existence.”
Iron & Blood: Book Two of The Expansion Wars Trilogy Page 26