Crimson Worlds Collection II

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Crimson Worlds Collection II Page 80

by Jay Allan


  He winced slightly as he watched Alex extract her revenge on the hapless gang-banger. “Whatever I paid those boys, it wasn’t enough,” he whispered to himself with a laugh. “That’s my Alex.”

  The door slid open. “You sent for me, sir?” Stark’s man looked the part…tall, handsome, well-groomed.

  “Yes.” He was still watching on his monitor, though the last of Alex’s attackers was finally dead. In the end, she’d made him beg for it. “I want you to take a security detail and go fetch Number Three. I think she’s had enough.” He paused then added, “Be careful. Don’t underestimate her. She is very dangerous.” He glanced up from his desk. “And go put on a uniform. I’d just as soon she thinks I only sent regular security to get her.”

  “Yes, sir.” He turned and walked through the door without another word.

  Stark leaned back in his chair and spoke softly to himself. “Well, my sweet little Alex, now we can have our talk. I trust this little adventure will serve as a reminder about who you are truly are…and where you came from. Where you could easily end up again.”

  Chapter 20

  Bridge – AS Midway

  X2 System

  Near X1 Warp Gate

  Terrance Compton sat at the head of the conference table, looking at the screen, mesmerized by what he saw. So that’s what the inside of a First Imperium ship looks like, he thought. It was similar to a human vessel in some ways, yet vastly different in others. It was odd to follow the video through the empty, silent corridors. They were small, far too tiny in places for men to pass. But they were built for the bots that serviced the vessel and repaired its damage. Bots that were now silent, mysteriously deactivated like the rest of the ship.

  “It is clear that the enemy is vastly ahead of us in nano-technology, as they are in virtually all areas.” Thomas Sparks stood alongside the table, continuing his report. “The operation of the vessel appears to be through a combination of dedicated automated systems and independent bots of various types. It is clear the ship was purpose built for robot operation, however I also hypothesize that the design was adapted from one originally intended to be crewed by organic beings. There are vestigial systems and design features that appear to strongly support this theory.”

  Compton fidgeted in his chair. “General Sparks, I think we all appreciate any insight on our enemy, and I have no doubt we could sit here for days and theorize about the First Imperium and its technology.” He was speaking gently, trying not to sound scolding. He understood the scientist was fascinated at all the new data, but he also knew he had to find a way to defeat the enemy – and do it soon. Otherwise nothing else mattered. “May I suggest that we focus first on matters of tactical significance…things that may be useful in the short term.”

  Sparks nodded. “Of course, Admiral Compton.” Sparks was a Marine research engineer, and his own curiosity generally ran to weapons and strategic systems. But he was overwhelmed now, and distracted, his mind running in a hundred directions. “While I am hopeful that further research on that vessel will lead to large leaps forward in many of our offensive and defensive systems, I am afraid we found little that is likely to be of immediate use.” He panned across the table, his eyes settling on Compton. “Immediate being defined as the duration of this campaign.”

  Compton wasn’t surprised. He really didn’t expect to peel open that ship and find a superweapon sitting there with an instruction manual. He’d hoped they might find some sort of tactical weakness in the enemy vessel…something his people could use in battle. But even that, he realized, would take, at the very least, months of research to decipher…and probably years.

  “I believe I can offer a reasonable explanation as to how this ship fell into our hands, at least. The First Imperium operates, as we already know, on a very hierarchal basis. It appears their warships work in a similar manner, with a single central AI running virtually every aspect of ship operations.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “It is logical if you imagine an operating system designed by a computer and not an organic being. Our own ships require multiple officers, for example, because even the most proficient captain can’t manage all aspects of running a large vessel. In turn, we utilize multiple AIs on our vessels, even though we could build a single unit powerful enough to replace the others. Although this is the purest speculation, our early research and development likely replicated our existing pattern of apportioning work to multiple individuals. Thus, we went down a path of distributing the workload while the First Imperium, at least for many thousands of years, was directed by artificial intelligences that opted for centralization.”

  Sparks shifted again. His rapid trip from Sigma 4 on the Torch transport, followed by climbing into his armor and crawling around the enemy ship, had left him stiff and sore. He was exhausted too, but the mental stimulation of all the new data was temporarily overcoming his physical fatigue. “It appears that a First Imperium vessel is entirely dependent upon its core AI system. This would be enormously useful to us in battle, except the artificial intelligence unit is located in the most heavily shielded and defended part of the ship. It is virtually impossible to damage until the vessel itself has been blasted to pieces.” He paused, then added, “Indeed, we may someday discover a method for disrupting or disabling these systems from long range. If we are able to achieve that, the advantage in the conflict would almost certainly shift dramatically in our favor.” Another pause. “Of course, we are nowhere close to developing a method for accomplishing this.”

  Compton leaned back in his chair. “I appreciate the potential future implications of this information, but how does it explain what happened in this case? Why this particular ship simply stopped functioning?”

  “I’m sorry, sir…I was getting to that.” Sparks took a breath. “I believe that there was a malfunction in the main power conduit leading to the AI, a freak incident. Most likely there was a manufacturing flaw, and the kinetic energy from the torpedo hit caused a break. In essence, the plug got pulled on the ship’s brain. Unfortunately, it is not something we can replicate. Just a lucky break.” He paused, then added, “Clearly, the long term implications of our ability to study an intact First Imperium AI are enormous…though, again, it is unlikely to produce anything practical in the near term. At this point, I haven’t even been able to determine how to open the case yet.”

  Compton let out a long breath. “Yes, general, I’d have to agree than capturing that AI is a potentially enormous development.” Assuming we survive long enough for your people to figure it out, he thought, though he kept that part to himself. “Is there anything of more immediate usefulness? I can’t believe we won’t be facing a fight here soon, and any insights that can give us an edge would be most welcome.”

  “I’m afraid nothing of immediate tactical significance, sir.” He paused, then added, “There is one more thing of possible interest, though I doubt its utility in terms of aiding us with imminent combat. I’m afraid, also, it is based on the wildest of suppositions.” Sparks had clearly been unsure if he should even bring it up.

  “By all means, general, please continue.” Compton straightened a little in his chair, his eyes brightening ever so slightly. Sparks was a genius and Compton, for one, would listen to his wildest guesses with rapt attention. “I can assure you that anything you wish to speculate on is of interest.”

  “Well, admiral…” Sparks was clearly still hesitant. He was an engineer, trained to focus on facts…or at least theories based on solid evidence. “…we found a certain type of bot on the enemy ship, a type we have never seen before.” He paused again.

  Compton was staring at Sparks, listening intently. “Yes, Tom? Say what you’re thinking.”

  “I believe it is some type of authorization bot, sir. It is my…ah…wild guess…that they act as keys to activate vital systems. An extra layer of security, preventing implementation of various processes unless one of these keys is present and deployed.”

  “Tom, I know
this is all guesswork, but your gut feel on this is better than anything else we have.” Compton was interested now. “Please elaborate. Just go through your thought process for us.”

  “Yes, sir.” Sparks took a deep breath. “First, they appear to be constructed to connect with other equipment. We have previously speculated that the enemy utilized a form of universal interface between systems. That theory is supported by our preliminary examination of the captured vessel. In fact, it appears there are at least three types of interface, and these are evidently based upon the security level of the system in question.”

  Sparks glanced at Compton, who nodded for him to continue. “Secondly, we have found connection interfaces on captured First Imperium equipment and debris that match these bots.” He paused and looked right at Compton. “Including on Epsilon Eridani IV.”

  Compton’s eyes widened. “Please continue, general.”

  “There are sections of the Epsilon Eridani complex that appeared to be fully intact, yet are completely non-functional. This now makes more sense to me. The complex has a large number of these interfaces in areas we projected where vital to the overall operation.” He was nodding as he spoke. “If I am correct…and that is an enormous ‘if’…we may very well be able to activate at least sections of the great machine on Carson’s World. These bots may jumpstart our ability to produce antimatter in quantity more effectively than a thousand years of research could.”

  Sparks allowed his last comment to sink in. If Hofstader and the rest of the Pact’s team could quickly adapt the production and storage technology of the ancient antimatter factory, Sparks and his team could quickly weaponize it. He had half-developed designs for antimatter weapons already, all of which had been halted by the inability of Earth science to produce and store usable quantities of the precious substance.

  “We have never captured one of these bots before, though based on the amount of wreckage we have collected from battle sites we should clearly have found at least remains of them. It is my hypothesis that this is a security measure, that the central AI directs the key bots to self-destruct when a ship is near destruction. We must therefore extract them, as well as the AI itself, with extreme care in case there are alternate security precautions in place. We could easily trigger an undetected self-destruct routine if we aren’t careful.”

  Compton had been quietly thoughtful, considering everything Sparks was saying. Capturing this ship alone was reason enough to have launched the campaign. A chance, even a long one, at weaponizing antimatter was just the sort of game changer he and Garret had hoped for when they planned the invasion.

  Now they needed time...time the fleet was going to have to buy. Whatever it took. Sigma 4 and X1 were both “straightaways”…systems with only two warp gates. When they were the only route between two warring parties, these types of systems were natural bottlenecks, providing ideal locations for defense. It was like the Line, only even more concentrated. We’ll have all of mankind’s might concentrated in one place, Compton thought…holding a new Line, while Sparks, Hofstader, and the rest of the white coats tried to turn this captured ship into a massive leap forward in technology.

  “General, I believe that our first order of business is to arrange to tow the enemy vessel out of this system to a location farther to the rear.” Compton sat very still, clearly deep in thought as he spoke. “I do not believe it would be wise to attempt to begin your research efforts in deep space, especially in this exposed location.”

  “I agree completely, sir.” Sparks frowned. “I’m afraid that may take some time, admiral. The enemy hull material is extremely difficult to work with. It will take considerable effort to create a connection with a towing vessel, especially one that will endure significant acceleration.”

  “Well, general…that’s your problem.” Compton smiled. Mine is making sure nothing interferes with you while you’re doing it.” He tapped the com controller on his collar. “Commodore Harmon…send a drone back to X1.” His task forces were spread out between Sigma 4 and X2. “The fleet will immediately advance and assemble here in X2.”

  Chapter 21

  Red Rock Valley

  8 Kilometers South of Enemy Base

  Planet Sigma 4 II

  Cain stood on the reddish outcropping, staring out over the jagged valley below. This was rough terrain, far from ideal for an attack. But his forces had pushed the enemy back relentlessly, and the retreating bots had come this way. He didn’t know what tricks the First Imperium forces had in store, what tactics and stratagems they had gleaned from their battles with humanity. He didn’t care. His battle plan focused on one thing…one thing only. Getting the enemy to commit their last reserves first.

  “I know you’ve got Reapers here, you bastards.” Cain’s voice was calm, but it dripped with venom. “You aren’t going to fool me.”

  Sigma 4 II was a pleasant world, one men would certainly have colonized…if the First Imperium hadn’t gotten there first. It was Earthlike, but minus the pollution and slums. There were mountains and streams and golden valleys covered with wildflowers. The enemy had built a base on the planet…and there were a few small ruins that may have once been civilian towns. Still, it was clear this was a world on their frontier, lightly developed and never heavily populated. He wondered if their core worlds, wherever they were, had been raped and ravaged and scarred by war like Earth. Whether they were covered with festering slums where the masses had lived in misery, ground under the boots of those in power.

  His forces had dubbed the area Red Rock Valley. He smiled briefly, amused at the need warriors seemed to have to name everywhere they fought. Cain, for one, didn’t really care. One battle was much like another to him. Still, he thought, it was a good name.

  The army had advanced nonstop since the breakout 10 klicks back. They’d fought every step of the way, not letting up…not for a second. The enemy had been badly disordered by the plasma bombardment, and Cain had no intention of letting them regroup. The relentless pursuit had come at a cost, however, and casualties were high. And rising.

  His commanders were begging him to release the Obliterators, but he’d coolly refused every one of them. Even Isaac Merrick had joined in after the last firefight had brought a number of units above the 50% casualty mark. Everyone but Farooq. The Janissary had been the only major force commander to remain silent. His unit was as badly hurt as any other – worse than most - but still he grimly advanced without so much as a whisper about reinforcements.

  Cain hurt for his Marines and their comrades, fighting and dying up on the line. But he knew they would do what he needed them to do. Whatever the cost. He would spend their lives…he knew that, and so did they…but he wouldn’t waste them. If Erik Cain said he needed to keep the Obliterators in reserve, his Marines would turn grimly back to the fight and press on. They didn’t love him, not for the most part, but they trusted him…and they would follow him anywhere.

  He stood dead still and sighed. Things were going to get worse for those men and women fighting the enemy. Cain hadn’t told anyone what he was planning, but once it was done he wouldn’t be surprised if his Marines hanged him from the nearest tree. But this battle was more important than the lives of any of the warriors now fighting…and that included Cain. Every one of them was expendable as long as they got what they came for. They needed that base, and they had to take it intact.

  He could see movement through the low areas. It was Farooq’s Janissaries surging forward, with Cooper Brown’s Marines on their right. Cain didn’t like maneuvering through the narrow valley…it reeked of a trap. But he had snipers and heavy weapons teams posted all along the heights and scouts positioned well to the front. He might lose here…he might remain on this alien planet with his Marines, dead and unburied for eternity. But he was sure of one thing…the enemy wasn’t going to mousetrap him. If the First Imperium was going to beat him, they’d have to do it in a straight up fight.

  “General Cain…” Isaac Merrick’s voice was
strained, out of breath. “The forward skirmishers are out two klicks. The enemy is still pulling back.” The old army general was having trouble getting around in his new Marine armor. Cain couldn’t help but smile. He remembered what he felt like back in training. Powered armor wasn’t something you put on one day and just jumped into action. Merrick had gotten some practice time in, but nothing like real training. There was no choice, though…fighting First Imperium forces without armor was nothing short of suicide. The only other option was leaving him behind, and Merrick would have none of that.

  Merrick was down in the valley, just behind Brown’s regiment. Other than the difficulties adapting to his armor, he’d made an extraordinary chief of staff. Erik felt vindicated in his decision…and glad to have the old soldier on his team.

  Cain had been worried about what the enemy had emplaced in that mountain fortress. He wondered why his forces hadn’t taken any fire from there earlier…certainly they had ordnance that could have reached his forces even back at the LZ. He’d held back his nukes in the hopes of taking the base intact. That was why they were here, after all…to learn something they could use to beat the enemy. Really beat them…and end the war.

  He looked down at the valley for a few more seconds. No one was going to like his next order. His troops were almost all veterans, but even experienced troops were only human. The enemy had been pulling back, offering minimal resistance. His forces had pursued, but with less aggressiveness than he wanted. He understood…they were exhausted and they’d suffered heavy losses. But that was all irrelevant. Cain needed the enemy to commit their last reserves, and a half-assed pursuit wasn’t going to make it happen. He turned his head slowly, looking out over the field. “General Merrick…all forward units are to attack at once.”

 

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