Crimson Worlds Collection II

by Jay Allan

  The room was silent. Cain’s points had been tangential to the primary topic, but they served to remind everyone present of the overall context…of what they were truly fighting.

  “I believe I can add on more bit of analysis with regard to what we can derive from this device.” Hofstader had broken the silence. His voice was soft, somber. “I think we need to realize that its existence supports one other extremely unpleasant assumption. This represents a level of technology well beyond anything else we have seen. I now believe it is highly unlikely that the vessels we have encountered to date represent the best the enemy has available…or even anything close to it. I would speculate that there are far stronger forces that we have not yet seen. If they possess a weapon of this power, I hesitate to even guess at what else they might have.”

  Hofstader’s point hit everyone in the room. They’d been resigned to a fight against long odds, but the thought of even more advanced enemy forces was extremely demoralizing.

  Garret broke the silence. He didn’t really have anything to say, but he wanted to interrupt the somber musing. “Well, we will cross that bridge when we come to it.” He shifted his glance down the table. “For now let’s…”

  “Admiral Garret, you have an urgent message coming in.” Garret had removed his earpiece, so the AI was speaking on the open com.

  “Yes, Nelson…what is it?” Garret answered in the open as well. There was nothing classified from the people in the room with him.

  “We have received word from Admiral Compton. He has engaged enemy forces in System X2.”

  “Very well, Nelson. Transfer all available data to my command console.” He looked up at his companions. “And issue a fleet order, Condition Yellow.” He stood up and glanced down the table. “Gentlemen, I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this meeting short.” He turned and walked quickly from the room.

  “Admiral Garret, may I have a moment?” Hofstader stood in the open doorway, looking meekly into the admiral’s office. “I know you are busy getting the fleet ready to move out.”

  “Of course, Friederich.” Garret was motioning for the scientist to come in. “Have a seat. I always have time for anything you consider important.” He pointed toward the two guest chairs facing his desk.

  “Thank you, admiral.” Hofstader walked from the door and sat down. The office was small, utilitarian. In a starship, especially a warship, space was always at a premium. Even the fleet admiral’s office was small and cramped.

  “What can I do for you, Friederich?” Hofstader had been sitting silently, apparently hesitant to begin what he’d come to say. “Is there a problem?”

  “No, admiral.” His voice was slow, tentative. “I have a plan…more of an idea than a plan, really.” He paused, trying to decide how to proceed. “My plan…idea…whatever…is based on some of my former work. Former theories, actually. I have no real evidence to support it. But if it works, it could end the war immediately.”

  Garret had been half-gazing at his ‘pad as he listened to Hofstader, but his head snapped up, and he stared right at the physicist. “Friederich, I don’t care if something came to you in a dream last night after you ate a big dinner. If you have something in mind that can end this war I want to know about it…fact, theory, or wild guess.” His eyes bored right into Hofstader’s. “Immediately.”

  “It has to do with an extensive body of theoretical work I did some years ago regarding warp gates and their physical properties.” He paused. “Without going into detail, it is my belief that the release of an extraordinary amount of energy inside a warp gate would cause a disruption that would...” He was looking for the right word. “…disable the gate.”

  “By disable, do you mean the gate would no longer facilitate transits? That the warp gate would be non-functional?” Garret couldn’t keep the excitement out of his voice.

  “Admiral, please remember that this is the wildest speculation on my part. I was never able to test any of these theories because we didn’t have access to a sufficiently large energy source.” He had been looking down toward the desk, avoiding the admiral’s stare. But now he looked up, directly into Garret’s eyes. “Until now.”

  “You are suggesting that we detonate the enemy device inside a warp gate?” It was a question, but Garret already sounded convinced.

  “I wouldn’t go so far as to suggest we actually do it, admiral. I just wanted to share my thoughts with you.” His eyes dropped down again, and he continued nervously. “That device is of incalculable value, and I can offer no proof whatsoever that such a course of action would work. First, my theories may be utterly incorrect. Beyond that, we would need the time of detonation accurate to within a microsecond.” He paused then added, “Even in the best of circumstances, it would be a considerable longshot, Admiral Garret.”

  Garret sat quietly for a minute, considering Hofstader’s words. He knew the German scientist was a genius, considered brilliant even among his peers. He’d never been wrong about anything in the time Garret had been working closely with him. Hofstader seemed to have considerable doubts about his plan, but Garret began to realize he himself was convinced. “Is the disruption permanent?”

  “Please understand, admiral. I cannot even guarantee there would be disruption. However, my theory is indeterminate on the duration of the effect. It could be permanent but, more likely, it would be temporary. There would be some degree of leakage from the gate. The trapped energy will dissipate over time. Nevertheless, I believe the period of complete disruption would last at least several centuries. Possibly longer.”

  “So if we detonate that thing in the gate between X1 and X2 we would cut the First Imperium off from human space for at least a few centuries?” Garret knew Hofstader would come back with another protestation about the untested nature of his plan, so he beat him to it. “Assuming your theories are correct?”

  “Yes, admiral. And assuming they do not find an alternate route through space that is still uncharted by us.” The tension in Hofstader’s voice was obvious. “I was extremely reluctant to suggest this course of action but, as you have noted, if it does work we will have effectively ended the war. Or at least forced a hiatus of several hundred years. By then, perhaps our civilization will have gleaned sufficient technology from the enemy artifacts to face them on even terms.” He left unspoken the selfish thought that it would also be someone else’s problem.

  Garret leaned back rubbing his face with his hand as he considered the options. He thought about calling another meeting, but he decided that wasn’t necessary. He was in command, and he realized he’d already made a decision…one he wasn’t going to change. There was too much upside not to try. They’d come here looking for some type of miracle…and Hofstader had just dropped in on his desk.

  “Friederich…” Garret stared right at Hofstader as he spoke. “…well done. Do it.” Another pause. “What do you need from me?”

  Chapter 30

  Alliance Primary Shipyards

  Orbiting Wolf 359 V

  Wolf 359 System

  The Alliance’s great shipyard at Wolf 359 was a series of orbital structures, majestic and immense, that dwarfed any other construct in space. The nearly endless series of factories, storage facilities, workshops, and space docks extended in a line over 180 kilometers in geosynchronous orbit, 110,000 kilometers above the system’s fifth planet.

  A gas giant, larger by a third than Jupiter, Wolf 359 V was a vibrant blue globe, the most distant of the worlds orbiting the red primary. Uninhabitable, and useful only for its gravitational hold on the shipyard facilities, it had long been unnamed, referred to only as planet 5. Eventually, the name Poseidon came into informal use, and some years later it was made official. Whether the name was motivated by the presence of the shipyard or the fact that the blue of the planet resembled the color of Earth’s oceans is unclear.

  The system’s third planet was Arcadia, one of the Alliance’s largest and most important colonies. A flash point of the colonial r
ebellions, Arcadia remained one of the most fiercely independent of the Alliance worlds. It had a diversified economy, but it had become more dependent on its proximity to the shipyards in the years since the rebellion. The Confederation Agreement that ended the insurrections also provided for control of the shipyards to pass to the colonies, and more and more workers from Arcadia had taken positions on the various production lines.

  Before the First Imperium invasion, the shipyards had been garrisoned by a full battlegroup, but now, with all humanity allied against the enemy, those defensive forces had been redeployed to the front lines. There were only a few patrol ships on duty now, and those were second line units, not the veteran forces that had historically protected the complex.

  “Attention Faulkner, this is Convoy Gamma Epsilon, inbound for Wolf 359 shipyard central docking…answering your query.” The challenge by the patrol ship had been an automated one. Standard procedure.

  Faulkner was a small vessel, an old suicide boat too obsolete to maintain its place in a front line fleet. Ensign Jon Cleon glanced at his scanner, then at the manifest on his workstation display. Convoy Gamma Epsilon…there it was…27 ships, just as expected. And right on schedule too.

  “Convoy Gamma Epsilon, you are cleared for final approach to Wolf 359 central docking.” Cleon make a cursory effort to hide the boredom in his voice. “You guys are right on time,” he added. “Almost to the minute. Can’t remember the last time that happened.”

  “Authorization received and acknowledged.” The reply was quick, concise…and exactly what regulations specified.

  Wow, Cleon thought, whoever’s in charge of that convoy must be one hell of a nutbuster. He leaned back in his chair, glad he wasn’t part of that crew.

  The red light switched to green. The docking connection with the freighter was secure. “Open the hatch.” The deck chief had a sleepy sound to his voice. It was late, at least simulated late. Orbiting a gas giant didn’t offer much frame of reference for time of day, so the shipyards ran on an Earth normal clock. For an Alliance facility, that meant Eastern Standard Time.

  The hatch was big…ten meters across by four high, and it made a heavy scraping sound as it slid open. “Let’s go, you lazy sacks. We got a lot of unloading to do. They’ve been waiting for these reactor control units on the line.” He dragged himself to his feet, turning and checking on the progress of his crew. “Hey! Let’s go.”

  He heard footsteps coming from inside the freighter. They made an odd sound, like metal on metal. He was still trying to figure it out when a dozen hyper-velocity rounds ripped the top half of his body to shreds.

  Armored soldiers poured out of the freighter, firing at the dock crew as they did. There were only 20 or so crew, and they were unarmed. It only took a few seconds for the attackers to wipe them out.

  “Force A leader reporting. Dock Beta secured.” The officer spoke clearly, sharply, with the relaxed confidence of a veteran.

  “Very well, A Leader.” The voice on the com was similar, almost eerily so. “You are to proceed to secondary objective and secure the area.” There was a short pause. “Personnel at secondary objective are considered essential, so you are to utilize non-lethal ordnance in taking control of the area.” Another pause. “Any maintenance or security personnel encountered en route are to be terminated.”

  “Yes, Control. Orders received and understood.” He turned and walked across the open bay. “Force A Leader, out.”

  “All security forces, Condition Red. I repeat, Condition Red.”

  “What the hell?” Ian Jones leapt off his bunk, almost tripping in the process. He hadn’t been asleep, just relaxing. His team was scheduled to go on duty in a little over an hour. He hopped through the door on one foot, pulling his boot on as he did.

  His team was in the outer barracks doing much the same. They were in uniform, mostly, but they were standing around raggedly, confused expressions on their faces. “What’s up, Cap?” Hank Young was the first to ask, but they were all looking at him expectantly.

  “I don’t know anything you boys don’t.” They all knew what Condition Red meant. It was an all-hands call to duty. It meant the complex had been boarded by hostile forces. “Just get your asses in gear, and we’ll all know soon enough.” He walked over to a large cabinet on the wall and punched a combination into the keypad. His people were normally armed with stun pistols, but not during a Condition Red alert. The cabinet slid open, revealing a long row of neatly stacked assault rifles.

  Jones grabbed the first rifle and started toward the door. “Let’s go. You guys waiting for a written invite?” He tapped the pad to open the door and looked back over his shoulder. His people were lining up at the weapons locker, grabbing their rifles and moving up behind him.

  Jones had no idea what could be going on. The Powers weren’t at war; they were allied against the First Imperium. And that fight was almost 200 lightyears away. Who could be invading the shipyard complex? He was still wondering that when he jogged through the door and out into the corridor.

  “Control, this is Force A Leader.” He was standing on a wide catwalk, looking out over the massive bay. A 600 meter long hull stretched almost out of sight into the distance. It was a Boise-class cruiser, undergoing heavy repairs. Most of the work at the shipyards was done in the outer spacedocks, but some tasks were more easily completed in a pressurized environment. “All Sector A primary objectives secured.”

  “Very well, A Leader. Continue report.”

  “All engineering and skilled technical personnel we have encountered have been confined in one of the empty bays. We have penetrated the main AI’s security and are identifying all confined individuals. I have search parties out looking for unaccounted essential personnel.” He looked out over the docked cruiser. His people were still searching the ship…a stubborn group of security troopers had retreated this way, and he wasn’t about to move forward if they were hidden behind his force.

  “Excellent, A Leader. Report on armed resistance.”

  “In general, the security forces have been easily destroyed with minimal losses to our units.” He paused. He had to report something that had been unexpected. “There is one security team that has been considerably more difficult to destroy than the others. My forces are currently in pursuit.”

  “Understood A Leader.” There was a pause…possibly a discussion taking place on the other end. “You are to prioritize the neutralization of enemy security forces. All such personnel are to be terminated on sight.”

  “Yes, Control. Understood.”

  “These guys are pros.” Ian Jones was out of breath, his shoulder drenched with his own blood. The hyper-velocity round had only clipped his shoulder, but it almost took off his arm. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear they were Marines.

  Jones knew the Marines well. They’d plucked him out of the slums of Bristol, and offered him a chance at making their grade. He did five years of Marine training, but he washed out because he suffered from extreme claustrophobia. He simply couldn’t handle being entombed in a suit of powered armor, and none of the counseling had solved the problem. The Corps had reluctantly sent him packing with an honorable discharge as a private and a letter of recommendation. That had opened the door to virtually any security job in occupied space.

  “You’ve got to get word to Arcadia. They’ve got control of this place already. I’m pinned down with half a dozen of my people, but I can’t raise any other security teams.” He was speaking to the only admin office he could still reach, trying to get word out about what was happening. He was propped up against the wall, holding his rifle with his good hand. The pain in his shoulder was unbearable. Every word he spoke was a torment.

  Jones had been a guard captain for a little over a year. He’d been hired to do two years on the job and then take over the top security position in the shipyards. Now it looked like he was going to die in this cargo hold.

  He could hear the sound of metal pounding on metal. “They’re c
oming.” He spat the words into the comlink. “You have to reach Arcadia.”

  There was a large explosion, and the door blasted inward, hanging loosely, still connected at one corner. He could see the shadowy shapes outside, moving closer. Then the fire, rounds zipping into the room…his people going down, one by one.

  Finally it was just him, leaning behind the desk, trying desperately to hold the rifle up so he could fire. Then more pain, then none. Just wetness on his chest, his gut. Then haziness, floating…darkness.

  Chapter 31

  Bridge – AS Pershing

  System X2

  3,000,000 miles from the X1 Gate

  “General Cain and Dr. Hofstader will be in position with the device in approximately eleven hours, admiral.” Tara Rourke was turned around, facing Garret. “They will advise when they are prepared and then await your further orders.”

  Hofstader had hastily constructed an attachment to the First Imperium device. It was a small explosive that would destroy the power source keeping the magnetic fields in place. When the fields dropped, the antimatter would instantaneously begin annihilating with any matter it encountered. Hofstader had jury-rigged a shell of high density matter, mostly highly radioactive elements, around the exterior of the alien device, providing a sufficient mass to pair off with the antimatter and insure a rapid release of the full energy potential. It was a rushed effort, and one he hoped to have time to improve upon before it was needed.