“What the hell?” said Recker. He racked his brain trying to figure out the reason for this unexplained development. “Lieutenant Burner, attempt contact with those destroyers.”
Lieutenant Burner didn’t require prompting. After a few tense seconds, he looked up. “Still no response, sir.”
In front of Recker’s eyes, the first of the destroyers to be ejected from the cluster was hit by a weapon from an unknown source. The warship’s hull went rapidly from red to orange and then white. A moment later, the stresses of heat expansion tore it into indistinct pieces of debris, which dispersed in an arc as it sped away from the other spaceships.
Recker guessed what was coming next and so did the others of his crew.
“Oh crap, no,” said Aston.
The second destroyer went the way of the first, becoming an incandescent storm of wreckage, doomed to forever travel through space with its carbonized passengers reduced to no more than a memory of what they’d once been.
With a snarl of fury, Recker crashed his fist against the top of his console. “No!” he roared. He closed his eyes and imposed control on his emotions. Anger had its place, but not here. “Find me the source of that weapon,” he said. “Do it quickly.”
“On it, sir,” said Burner, his bared teeth indicating he was struggling with rage of his own.
“I’ll assist Lieutenant Burner,” said Aston.
“I want something I can act on before we lose sight of the target again. By the time it comes back it might have disposed of our other ships.”
“The satellite is almost at its fifteen million klick minimum range, sir,” said Burner. “I’m picking up ghost traces of an object in the centre.”
“Something’s deflecting our sensors,” Aston confirmed. “If we didn’t have an idea of where to look, I doubt we’d have detected it even from a million klicks.”
“What are we facing?” asked Recker. “Tell me.”
“We won’t find specifics from here, sir.”
Recker couldn’t sit and he paced three steps one way and three the other, while his brain roiled with unformed ideas.
“If we could predict the target’s next orbital shift, we could send a couple of Hellburners to meet it when it completes another circuit,” he said.
“We lack data to predict the shift, sir,” said Aston. “And since our missiles won’t lock from this range, we’re relying on them heading to pre-programmed coordinates. The level of precision required may be beyond our hardware.”
“I know, Commander, I’m thinking aloud,” said Recker. He gritted his teeth – the Hellburners’ travel time from here to the target location was more than thirty minutes. Expecting them to hit an object with an 870 kilometre per second velocity using pre-programmed coordinates required a great deal of optimism, especially given the presence of the other warships around the satellite. Besides, using the Hellburners would mean allowing the enemy object to complete another two-hour orbit, during which time it might well destroy more of the captured task force.
“We could lightspeed to the far side of the planet in order to intercept the target and strike at it from a much closer range,” said Aston.
“Which means creating a huge particle wave,” said Eastwood. “If we’re undetected now, we won’t be after that.” A split second later, he gave a shout of alarm.
Recker didn’t understand what was wrong, but he spun towards his console in time to see thousands of lines of text rolling upwards on every one of his screens. He sprang into his seat and his eyes scanned the activity, trying to make sense of it.
“We’re shutting down,” he said in disbelief. His fingers jumped from place to place and he called up status menus on his screens. Within seconds, he knew what was happening. “Core override.”
“I can’t stop it happening,” said Eastwood.
“Nor me, sir,” said Aston. “I’m locked out of the weapons.”
Recker did what he could. First, he attempted to isolate the critical systems from the rest of the warship’s network. Somehow, the core override had already affected every piece of hardware, like it had appeared everywhere, rather than spreading from an initial source. In truth, Recker wasn’t sure if the weapon was hardware or software based and his ignorance hampered the efforts to counter the attack.
“I’m applying admin level protection on every file to prevent manipulation or deletion,” he said.
“That’s going to take too long, sir.”
“I know. It’s something.”
A few moments after applying new permissions to one of the data arrays, Recker’s link to the hardware was cut. He tried again on a separate array with the same outcome. “Damnit!”
The core override was unstoppable and it swept through the Expectation’s hardware. In less than sixty seconds, Recker was unable to access anything using his console. Whatever he attempted, he got no response to his commands.
“We’re powered up, but we can’t control anything.” Recker fought the temptation to punch his console. “I want answers,” he said. “Failing that, ideas.”
Eastwood already had an idea. “The core override was selective, sir. At first, I thought the attack was intended to purge our control systems, but if you look at your console you can see that all the monitoring tools are operational. If the status readouts are correct, the Expectation is in full working order. We just can’t do anything.”
“Which makes me think the core override isn’t just a dumb shut-down weapon,” said Aston. “I think it’s a tool designed to subvert at the command and control level.”
Suddenly, the propulsion note climbed in volume and Recker felt a surge of acceleration. “We’re moving.”
The monitoring tools were active like Eastwood said, and Recker accessed them. The propulsion output was stuck on 99% and stayed that way until the Expectation hit maximum velocity.
“Lieutenant Burner, can you access the FTL comms?” asked Recker, knowing the answer already.
“No, sir – same with all external comms in or out.” He paused for a moment. “I’m into the sensors again!” Burner’s excitement was short-lived. “I can’t control them and they’re fixed on the same settings as before the override. I’ll attempt to estimate our course based on the position of the stars.”
“We’re heading to the same place as all those other ships,” said Recker. “No place else we could be going.”
“It’ll take more than three hours to reach the closest point of the previous orbit,” said Aston. “Sounds like we’re in for a long trip.”
“That gives us time to work on a solution, Commander.” Recker turned. “Lieutenant Burner, can you access the internal comms?”
“Yes, sir. Those aren’t much more complicated than two tin cans connected by a wire. They’re working fine.”
“I want you to speak to Sergeant Vance. Tell him to check out the deployment vehicle and the two tanks in the underside bay. I want to know if they’re affected as well.”
“I’ll pass on the order, sir.”
Recker proceeded with his investigation into the extent of the core override’s effect on his warship. It didn’t require expert evaluation to realize that the weapon was sophisticated and he experienced a fleeting hopelessness over the situation. This was the same attack which had incapacitated not only the HPA fleet, but the Daklan heavy cruisers as well. And a weapon which had brought down the Vengeance eighty years ago.
“The Vengeance crashed onto Tanril because of the core override,” he said, hoping that talking would spur on an idea.
“And when we found it, it was like someone had done a fresh install of the control systems,” said Eastwood.
Recker drummed his fingers. “When we were flying it home, we suspected that the warship had done a complete and automatic reinstall from backups, and the shipyard concluded likewise.”
“We have the control software install package on one of our data arrays,” said Aston. “Checking…damn, it’s been deleted.”
; “That would have been too easy,” said Eastwood angrily.
“Someone on one of our spaceships would have already figured it out,” said Recker. “If not us, then the Daklan.”
“Whoever built the Vengeance must have had a lot more experience combating the core override than we have,” said Aston. “Somehow they figured out a way to get their backups online.”
“Too late to prevent the crash into Tanril.”
Recker grimaced. “And the shipyard found microscopic traces of biological matter across the bulkhead. The crew of the Vengeance were likely killed in the impact.”
“Which means the core override can be selective in what it does,” said Aston. “When it came to the Vengeance, the override switched off the life support prior to impact, ensuring everyone onboard got killed.”
“And the same could happen to us.” Recker swore again. “For the moment, it seems like we’re being taken towards that ghost satellite. Why?”
“Information,” said Burner. “We’re being brought in for interrogation. Once that’s done, we’ll suffer the same fate as the Barbarian and the Claymore.”
“Why were the other ships spared?” wondered Recker.
“It seems Lieutenant Burner is right about an interrogation, sir,” said Eastwood, his voice thick with worry. “Check out the utilisation on our main core.”
Recker didn’t need to check. “It’s up and down. I thought that was a result of the core override attack.”
“I had a closer look and our own core is actually working to break the encryption locks on some of our critical data arrays.”
“I thought the core override had control over those already?”
“That’s what I thought as well, sir. In fact, it seems like the attack was specifically designed to take over our command and control systems – effectively locking us out in order that a further attack can take place on our encrypted data.”
“The command and control system doesn’t have access to the encryption keys, sir,” said Aston. “They’re tied in with our biometrics and also encrypted.”
“So our attackers are using our own core to brute force into our data,” said Recker, clenching his fists. He swore again. “Those arrays contain our star charts.”
“The analysis of which might lead a hostile species to our home worlds,” said Burner. “Shit.”
A chill gripped Recker, constricting his entire body. If this conclusion was accurate, the core override might eventually crack open the encryption locks protecting all kinds of data that humanity didn’t want falling into the wrong hands. Once that happened, all bets about the future were off.
Unable to prevent himself, Recker gave his crew an extended demonstration of the language he’d picked up as a ground trooper many years ago.
Chapter Seven
For two hours, the crew worked ceaselessly, not only to regain control of the Expectation but also to prevent the warship’s own core from extracting the sensitive data from its arrays. So far, they’d had no luck and though Recker wasn’t about to give up hope, he was fully aware that the crews on all those other captured warships had been doing the same thing for longer and without apparent success.
Meanwhile, Sergeant Vance had investigated the lower bay and reported that all three vehicles were fully operational. Either the core override hadn’t noticed them or it wasn’t interested. It was possible the holding clamps wouldn’t accept the command to release, but they could be easily blown in an emergency. Recker had passed on the order for the soldiers to board the deployment craft and await further commands.
As he thought about the mountain of problems, he pulled at the controls in frustration. He’d tested the response numerous times already and nothing new happened on this occasion - the engine note changed fractionally and the propulsion output dropped a little before jumping once more to 99%. Recker tried again and this time the output gauge didn’t move.
“The core override is learning and reacting,” he said.
“That’s exactly what it’s doing, sir,” said Eastwood. “If I had control-level access again I could probably disable it given enough time.” He laughed bitterly. “Except there are no backups to restore from, so the repair work might take hours, days or weeks.”
“I wonder if the satellite destroyed the Barbarian and Claymore because they had no more secrets to give, or for another reason,” said Aston.
“Those destroyers were fitted with earlier-generation cores,” said Eastwood. “It might be that they’d take decades to brute-force an encryption lock.” He tapped his console. “The Expectation has a new core, fitted with a dedicated number cruncher unit.”
“How long until our core breaks open those arrays, Lieutenant Eastwood?” asked Recker.
“I don’t know, sir – this is a totally unprecedented situation. What I can tell you is that the Trojan has many times our processing power and last we saw, it wasn’t destroyed.”
For the hundredth time, Recker cursed the design of the spaceship. He knew where the data arrays were stored, but they weren’t intended to be physically accessed from the interior. Once installed, a core and its associated arrays were assumed to be in for the life of a warship and replacing them required shipyard facilities.
“Can we disable the sensors?” asked Recker in desperation. “Assuming that any stolen data has to be broadcast and since the comms route through those arrays, maybe it’s something we can do.”
“We have physical access to some, but not all, of the comms antennae, sir. The enemy will only require one functioning antenna in order to transmit what we assume they’re trying to steal.”
“There’s got to be a way,” said Recker.
Another hour went by and still the crew were unable to regain control of the Expectation. Had the destroyer been alone, Recker would have focused his efforts on ways to detonate the weapons magazines in order to take out the data arrays. With so many other HPA warships involved, the successful destruction of his vessel – if achievable - would have been little more than a pointless gesture.
“Assuming the enemy satellite didn’t deviate from its orbital track or change velocity, we should have another ten minutes before we’re brought into the cluster,” said Burner.
“Time’s running out, folks,” said Recker.
The crew had worked hard to overcome the effects of the core override and knowledge of their failure rested heavy upon each pair of shoulders. Recker wasn’t disappointed in their efforts and he made sure they were aware of the fact.
“But we’re still screwed,” said Burner.
“Not yet we aren’t, Lieutenant. I’m convinced we can fix this.” The words were easily said but Recker was finding it increasingly difficult to maintain the belief. “Has anything come into the sensor viewing arc?” he asked. “I’d like to see my enemy.”
“Without control over the tracking, we’re relying on luck, sir. I’m sure when we’re brought in with the other warships, we’ll see what fired the core override.”
“I feel it’ll be all over by that point, Lieutenant.”
“It’s not like we’re in charge right now,” said Eastwood.
Recker didn’t want to argue and didn’t attempt to impose his view. He stood in order to stretch his muscles, and a shape, protruding into the aisle, caught his eye.
“The overstress device,” he said, pointing at it.
Eastwood glanced down as if he’d forgotten it was there. “I’ve been using it as a footrest, sir.”
“You mentioned it had a cut-down version of our engine control system built in.”
“Yes, sir, it does,” said Eastwood, blinking as his mind began working.
“Do you still have access to the device?”
Eastwood entered a command into his console. “Yes, sir. The rest of the command and control system doesn’t even know this box exists.”
A faint hope crept into Recker. “What would happen if you activated the overstress?”
“The processor would squir
t in the control program in order to set the engines into their new state.”
“What would happen then?”
“That control program would sit alongside the main controller, maintaining the overstress state until it decides the propulsion has had enough, then it’ll shut down again.”
“At which point the main controller resumes control.”
“Exactly.” Light dawned and Eastwood’s expression changed to one of excitement. “If I activate the overstress, you’ll have a period during which the Expectation will respond to the controls.”
“Which might be a long time, or not much time at all,” said Recker. He was trying to keep his own excitement contained, though he didn’t yet have an idea how to take advantage of the new possibilities.
“And we won’t have control over the weapons or anything else, sir,” said Aston. “If you were planning to put a couple of big holes in the enemy satellite, I can’t offer you that.”
“I’m aware, Commander.”
A plan was forming in Recker’s mind. It was risky and borne out of desperation.
The best plans always are.
He announced his intention.
“We’re going to let that satellite bring us into the cluster, then we’re going to activate this overstress device and I’m going to use the Expectation as a battering ram to smash the enemy to pieces. If anyone’s got a better suggestion, I’m happy to listen.”
“I wish I had, sir,” said Burner. “Believe, me, I wish I had.”
Eastwood had other concerns. “Aside from the many flaws I won’t mention, what happens if this overstress unit decides that it’s not safe to increase the load on the engines?”
“That’s an excellent question, Lieutenant.” Recker glanced at the timer he had running on his console. “You’ve got a few minutes. Is that enough to delete the section of coding that estimates the safe levels of engine operation?”
“Yes, sir. The coding is so basic I can do that in less than a minute.”
Fractured Horizons (Savage Stars Book 2) Page 6