Wingate nodded to one of the officers down the table.
"Commodore Tsukioka has prepared a brief on this topic. Commodore if you please."
The small neat Japanese officer stood.
"Ladies and gentlemen, our full report will be forwarded to your respective governments at the conclusion of this meeting. For the moment I will cover only the main points of my report. This report is based on the reading taken by Mississippi before the aliens’ destruction. Obviously there are limits to what those readings can tell us."
"Yes, yes we all understand the limitations." Clifton interrupted. "Can we get on?"
"Yes Ma’am. Based on the Mississippi’s readings the alien ship appears to be a mixture of technological levels. We have evidence of some systems we don’t understand even in principal others appear to be several steps behind our own technology." He continued unflustered.
"The most interesting point is their scanning technology. It appears to offer both Faster Than Light feedback and greater range than any technology we are aware of. It is also apparently small enough and cheap enough to use in a missile guidance system. The only possible way of achieve FTL scanning that we know of, even in principal, is via gravitational detection, however to detect something as small as a starship by this means, is well beyond our understanding. As a result we don’t have any active counter; Mississippi’s experience indicated that a ship might be able to avoid detection by powering down its systems but this is far from certain. The tactical advantages of a scanning technology that is not subject to transmission lags obviously cannot be overstated. However one possible ray of hope is the apparent use of conventional radar for terminal guidance. Our hypothesis is that the FTL scanner is not accurate enough for final approach and the radar observed in use, is at least a jammable technology."
"So they would be able to see one of our ships without it being able to see them?" The Indian Prime Minister asked.
"The current information would indicate yes."
There was a murmur of conversation.
"If I may continue?" The commodore asked in tones of a schoolteacher, the conversation stopped. "The second area where they appear to have an advantage is in Faster Than Light transmitters; the alien was observed making a FTL transmission. The transmission stream was far more complex than our one-point-five pulses per second and our smallest FTL transmitter is bigger than the entire alien ship, however the technology does appear to be within shouting distance of our own. The opposite is true of their conventional engines. While they did appear to be like our plasma based systems, the performance was far inferior. The alien proved only marginally more manoeuvrable than Mississippi, even after she had two engines disabled. This plus the fact that the aliens hull was clearly unarmored indicates that the power to mass ratio on their engines is significantly lower than ours. Possibly lower even than our first generation engines. One last factor that we find very interesting is the explosive yield of the long range missiles. For all the size of the missile it wasn’t very impressive, hinting at either a small warhead or a relatively weak explosive. Also the explosion wasn’t focused against the hull of the Mississippi so the bulk of the yield was effectively wasted."
"Is it possible that this could be an attempt at misdirection by one of the alien races already known to us?" The Chinese Premier asked.
"We believe that is very unlikely, sir." Commodore Tsukioka replied flatly. "The Tampel and the Mhar would have to make major technological steps forward in almost all critical shipboard systems in a very short time frame without us picking up on it. For the Aèllr to make the necessary technological developments is more possible but it would be very much out of practice; they have always placed a high premium on ship and crew survival"
"Not to mention they already know they can take us in a stand up fight but we would hurt them a lot. Politically it would take a lot for them to be willing to have people coming back in body bags again." Admiral Lewis added. "If this was an attempt to trigger an incident it would be closer to their own borders."
"This is all very interesting but what in practical terms does it mean?"
"If I may venture the observation," Leyland added, "Mississippi is a comparatively elderly ship and yet she dealt with the alien. This is surely a positive sign."
"Perhaps or perhaps not Prime Minster." Wingate replied. "You are correct, the Mississippi is an aging design, however even our most modern ships are built around the same premise. Namely combat at relatively short range with energy weapons. These aliens would apparently have the ability to detect and attack us from a safe distance. However I have to qualify that by saying this was only a single ship, it could have been their newest and best or another aging vessel, nearing retirement. We also have no idea on the overall strength of their fleet."
"Does this mean you’re looking for extra funding?" The Prime Minister of New Zealand asked in a sour voice.
"For the moment, no." Wingate replied ignoring the looks of faint surprise he got. "What we really need right now is information. What we have is so patchy we could easily head down the wrong track. What we the fleet are advocating is sending a single ship with a full science and diplomatic team to discover and if possible make friendly contact with this species." He continued. "If friendly contact proves impossible to achieve, an analysis of the level of threat they pose."
"I presume you are suggesting an armed ship." The President replied. "That could be seen as a hostile act."
"I believe, Madam President, it has to be armed ship or no ship at all. They have already fired at one of our vessels. If we sent an unarmed ship we would be trusting to luck that they are definitely not hostile without any information to confirm or disprove that assumption. We are suggesting using a single Herald Class scout cruiser to investigate and if possible make contact. If I may remind you they are about the same size as a River Class but with less armament and more importantly greater acceleration."
The president pursed her lips for a moment before looking up and down the table at the other council members.
"Admiral, there are real concerns that Battlefleet is not the organisation to lead any search for this race."
Wingate heard Lewis let out an irritated hiss.
"Yes Ma’am I’ve notice the debate in the media. I’ve also noticed most of them have ignored that fact that Mississippi was fired upon first."
"Yes Admiral but the fleet does have a certain… history."
"Yes Ma’am but the salient fact is we are the only armed human fleet. If the council opts for an unarmed ship, it can be a Science Directorate vessel or one from the national fleets. If armed, it has to be us.”
“Very well Admiral. Do you have anything else to add on this subject admiral?" She asked.
Wingate glanced at his own people.
"I don’t believe so Madam." He replied.
"Very well moving onto the next item; the proposed tracking station on…"
It took nearly another hour to work through the rest of the meeting agenda. Halfway through the meeting Secretary Callahan had finally turned up looking flustered. When the council members disappeared into a virtual conference room to discuss the matters raised privately, Lewis let out a sigh and sat back in his chair. Around the room other people were starting to gather up their papers. Callahan was reviewing the minutes of the meeting to get some idea of what he missed.
"What do you think?" Wingate asked his subordinate.
"That one of these days we are going to end up with political commissars on our ships." Lewis replied sourly.
"Council have to be aware of public opinion Paul."
"Being aware of it is one thing, pandering to it is another." Lewis replied in the same tone, "I’ll be sorry to see the Chinese finish their period on the Council, we get less messing from them than anyone else. They’re reluctant, sir but their choices are limited."
"Pardon?"
"They don’t want to send us but anything unarmed..." Lewis shrugged, “Might simply disappear
into the black.”
Unfortunately such prejudices had some backing, Wingate reflected as he rubbed his scarred face. The Contact War, had probably been histories most avoidable conflict. For various reasons the military leaders of the day had advised a course of action that resulted in armed forces being put into the same piece of space as an extremely rattled alien taskforce. What followed had been as tragic as it was inevitable.
Mississippi herself had finally come home only two days earlier and even after the temporary repairs received at Baden Station her wounds were all too apparent, and that might have focused a lot of minds. It had been nearly fifteen years since a Battle Fleet ship had fired a shot in anger and not since the end of the Contact War had a human ship staggered home so mutilated. It had affected the fleet; such an event couldn’t fail to. Most of the enlisted personnel and all the junior officers now serving had joined the fleet after the war, they had never seen the effects of battle damage in, so to speak, the flesh. However if there was now a feeling of unease there was also one of pride. One of their own had taken a terrible beating but had emerged victorious. Wingate had been in the main Battle Fleet control room when the battered cruiser had limped into the system under her own power, resolutely ignoring the two deep space tugs sent to escort her.
"There is one final thing I wanted to speak to you about; Captain Crowe." He said
"Well the man will likely have to be given a desk job." Callahan said briskly.
"I’m sorry Daniel, I forget when was it exactly we court-martialled Captain Crowe." Wingate replied.
"What’s the alternative exactly?" Callahan said looking up from the meeting minutes as he took a seat. "Simply give him another ship, ignore any protests? And before you say anything Admiral Lewis, yes I did read the report.”
“Yet you still seem to be taking the idiot Press’s interpretation.” Lewis replied coldly.
“No I believe the Captain did his best in an impossible situation. But the reality is a lot of people have reservations about Battlefleet. If the fleet gives Captain Crowe a frontier posting, it will be thumbing its nose at the world and lining up for a showdown with the Council. Is Captain Crowe worth that?”
“So we lynch him presumably.” Said Lewis
"Colourful as ever Admiral." Callahan sighed. "I am merely suggesting Captain Crowe be assigned a desk position. At least until things have calmed down again."
"That would be a mistake." Lewis said as he started to gather up his own papers. "Crowe spent the last six years playing taxi driver for the Science Directorate. A man like that isn’t going to accept a desk job."
"Accept Paul? I didn’t think the fleet worked on consensus."
"He could opt to resign his commission with the fleet, and probably would."
"That would be a possibility.”
Lewis frowned at the secretary.
"Yes I’m sure it would be politically convenient for Crowe to be hounded out of the fleet without any messy due process. I however would be somewhat reluctant to see the only skipper we have whose see combat against this race, being sacrificed to quiet the mob!" He snapped back.
Callahan’s mouth opened to snap back a reply but before he could speak Wingate raised his hand.
"Please gentlemen let’s keep this civil. With respect Mister Secretary, Admiral Lewis, neither of you are wrong.” he said, "In his determination to avoid an incident Crowe held his fire, that’s a far cry from trigger happy. To dismiss him either directly or indirectly would be unfair and unwise. Are we really prepared to tell every captain in the fleet that they can under no circumstances defend their ships?”
“No, of course not.” Callahan said with a shake of his head, “My office will be spending the next few weeks trying to portray him as a hero but sending him back out will make that much harder. So at the very least he is going to have to be kept closer to home.”
“I accept his next posting will be subject to an unusual degree of public scrutiny. You can be assured your office will be informed of the captain’s next posting." Wingate conceded.
"Would you like to join me for dinner before you head back to Titan?" Wingate asked Lewis as the two officers walked along the corridor away from the Council Chamber having parted from Callahan.
"I’m due to join my wife in… about half an hour." Lewis replied "although I could do with a drink of something to wash the politics out of my mouth.”
Wingate looked up at his taller subordinate.
"You seem to be getting more intolerant of our leaders as you get older."
"Laura has been saying the same thing for years." Lewis replied with a rare smile.
"Hmm… A thought occurs; if we transferred Crowe to Science Directorate completely even the council couldn’t claim he’d get up to much mischief in an unarmed sh…"
"Not a prayer." Lewis interrupted. "Laura told me last week officially Science Directorate accepts our findings that Crowe was not responsible for the incident. Unofficially, despite the work he’s done for them, those hypocritical bastards won’t touch him with a bargepole." The disgust was clear in Lewis’s voice.
Wingate nodded to himself.
"Well that’s no great surprise." He said after a moment. "Alright change of subject, how are simulations coming along."
"Not really much good news on that front either. They’re going badly, worryingly badly." Lewis said seriously. "I’ve got every tactical officer in the Home Fleet working on it and so far the results have been poor. Even such large missiles are very small targets for plasma cannons. So far only the much maligned Lunar class have fared well but I don’t think we can place too much reliance on only six ships."
Wingate grunted an affirmative.
"It would be useful if we could lay our hands on some more flak ships." Lewis added. "There’s a thought. Might also solve the Crowe problem."
"Oh?"
"Flak ships don’t wander around on their own. If we could put him onto one of the Luna’s that would keep him somewhere useful and under the watchful gaze of a senior officer. Might keep the Council happy." Lewis explained
Wingate looked at the ceiling for a moment.
"Yes I can probably work that deployment out. What about the sims?"
"Bottom line is if it’s a long ranged fight they win, if its short ranged we win. In this case we think an attack would offer the best form of defence. If we could pin them against something they have to defend, we could probably force them into our weapons range, we’d take some licks but we would do damage. If they attack however, it wouldn’t be pretty, missile fire would probably be the first indication they were there."
"The Council would have a collective fit if they heard you talking about attack." Wingate commented.
"They’re perfectly welcome to ensure I don’t have to attack anyone." Lewis replied with a faint smile as they turned into the admiral’s dining room.
Chapter Three
Echoes and Ashes
2nd February 2067
The marine on duty at the main access hatch of the Herald Class cruiser Harbinger watched impassively as the officer drifted down the access way towards him. Behind her came a rucksack on a towing line. With an occasional touch she corrected her drift until she reached the marine. Then twisting gracefully she caught hold of the guide bar and arrested her movement, reaching back she stopped the pack with a touch.
"Commander Faith Willis reporting for duty aboard the Cruiser Harbinger." She said as she passed the marine her storage drive and pushed herself down until her boots made contact with the deck plates. The magnets in her boot held her down in a standing position as the marine plugged the drive into his pad and examined her posting orders carefully.
"Very good Ma’am." He replied after a moment. "Permission to board, I’ll inform the Second Lieutenant that you’ve arrived."
"Thank you." The commander replied flatly before pulling herself through the airlock and into the ship. The marine watched the commander go before shrugging to himself and returni
ng to his position.
Captain Marko Flores woke with a start as his intercom buzzed. The book he’d fallen asleep reading fell off his lap and landed with a soft thump. It buzzed again as he tried to get the earpiece into position.
"Captain here."
"Officer of the day, sorry to bother you, sir, but our new First Officer has arrived." Said the lieutenant at the other end of the connection.
"Already? Good, give me five minutes then send her in."
"Yes, sir."
After pulling on his jacket he quickly ran a comb through his hair and checked his beard was neat. The fleet wasn’t all that keen on facial hair and in the early days had made a stab at banning it outright. A storm of protests from Muslims, Sikhs and a few other groups had seen the idea dropped fairly abruptly. So instead the fleet contented itself with vaguely frowning upon beards; something Flores had long since decided he could live with.
Moving over to his desk he switched on his computer screen and called up the copy of Commander Willis’s file that had been sent to Harbinger the day before. The fact that the ship even needed a new second in command was something of a disaster. Until five days ago Harbinger’s first officer had been the highly capable Commander Martin Wilfor, a man who had served with Flores for nearly three years. Unfortunately Wilfor was subject to a single failing; when busy he could become spectacularly forgetful. Five days earlier he’d been hurrying to examine a potential problem in the dorsal radar. Upon reaching a ladder he needed to go down, he stepped out onto fresh air expecting to push himself down. Unfortunately the ladder in question wasn’t in the zero gravity environment of the main hull, it was in the centrifuge. Commander Wilfor crashed down two decks sustaining two broken legs and a broken jaw. He was probably lucky not to have broken his neck, although Flores doubted he was currently feeling lucky at all.
It was an easy mistake to make when you crossed from zero G into gravity and back a dozen times a day. Certainly Flores had himself made the same mistake, abet less drastically, many times; attempting to put things down in mid air when in gravity or failing to stick them down when not.
The Nameless War Page 5