“AFS 3rd and 4th Assault Brigades, Ring 1, 0° to 180° E.
“EA NW and SW Brigades, Ring 2 East. EA NE and SE Brigades, Ring 2 West.
“SF Southern Fleet, Ring 3 East. SF Northern Fleet, Ring 3 West.
“ESC Flights 1-4, target supporting connections beginning at 180° on the far side of the sun.
“Inflict maximum damage in the next twenty-two minutes.”
The Dyson rings followed a solar synchronous orbit, and nodes encircled the full circumference to guarantee no gap in power capture and distribution. The scale of both the power source and the structures drawing upon it asserted themselves in appropriately intimidating fashion. But they were up to the challenge.
Miriam maximized the screen to her left, where both the targets and her vessels were presented as neat, crisp blips. The crew on the bridge focused diligently on their duties, but all was quiet. “Envious of the rest of the fleet, Major Halmi?”
“I know better, ma’am.”
There was no enemy to track or target for the moment. Thus she had little to do, save monitor the mission’s progress, watch the clock count down, and remain on alert. Sometimes, a leader’s most important job was to get out of the way so their people could do their jobs.
The Machim warships were fast, capable of traversing nearly two hundred parsecs per hour using superluminal travel. That speed would put any ships stationed near Machimis here in seconds.
But Machimis was 0.8 AU away, and a pinpoint superluminal jump across such a short distance toward a massive, deadly target struck her as the sort of daring, risky maneuver Machims didn’t engage in. If her instincts were correct, they would forego it, which meant it would take them thirty-six minutes to cross the distance using sub-light propulsion.
Chastened by the disastrous encounter at the Sagittae Gateway, however, she did not allow herself to count on it.
AFS MA-PRIMARY
The filters necessary to protect sensitive retinas from the flood of solar rays were layered so thickly over the viewport the sun’s photosphere was reduced to a flat, sooty gray. A shame, in Morgan’s opinion.
You used to regard notable astronomical sights as distractions liable to interfere with shooting the enemy.
I’m trying to expand my perspective, Stanley. I almost died, so I’ve decided to appreciate the little things in life—or the very big things, as the case may be. Smell the roses. Pursue a few clichés.
Is this my fault?
Entirely.
It certainly wasn’t Harper’s fault, for Morgan had never met a more practical, no-nonsense, whimsy-free human being. Morgan found it refreshing and a perfect match for her, but Stanley’s philosophical musings and discerning mindset was altering her perspective a bit, here and there.
Commander Lekkas (AFS MA-Primary): “ESC Flight 3, target Ring 1 support structure in the arc spanning 165° to 195° reference Mission Tactical. Flight 4, same orders on Ring 2. Flights 1 and 2, same orders on Ring 3. And make it quick, because we have somewhere else to be.”
Their speed matched the orbital velocity of the rings, and as one, the Eidolons fired on the metamaterial strung between the individual power nodes. Designed to withstand the 5,400 K temperature the sun averaged for several thousand years before needing to be replaced, it required two flights’ firepower concentrated on a single point for twenty-three seconds to sear through it.
The instant the metamaterial was severed both halves plummeted away. The nodes were being dragged with them, and the larger ships’ targets suddenly became moving ones. But it wasn’t as if they couldn’t handle dynamic tracking.
The impressive length of the rings—some 5,200 megameters—meant it was going to take time, but eventually and inevitably all the nodes would tumble into the sun, burn up and be rendered both useless and irretrievable. Thus, once each of the three rings was severed at a single location, AEGIS’ job was done.
But they didn’t come all this way to do a half-assed job, and with her extensive logistics experience Commandant Solovy was not one to leave anything to chance. So the fleet would rip every node they could to shreds before the enemy showed up in force.
That wasn’t all they would do, either. “Flights 1 and 2, execute superluminal jump to designated coordinates on my mark.” She confirmed the other flights were carrying out their assignments apace. “Mark.”
The heavily filtered scene outside the viewport blurred and snapped back into clarity so fast the events almost seemed to happen out of order. Stealth activated automatically. The filters eased, but the planet now located below her was so gray and drab one could hardly tell.
Commander Lekkas (MA-Primary): “Flights 1 and 2, proceed to 31.2 megameters altitude above planet Machimis, then move to every fourth orbital module, in flight and call-sign order. Hold position above the modules.”
Unlike the Dyson ring nodes, the power relay modules orbiting Machimis moved independently of one another on a staggered geosynchronous orbit above the equator of the planet, far inside the extensive orbital planetary defenses. They were hefty structures, but they paled in comparison to the gigantic nodes surrounding the planet’s sun—which meant they were compact enough to be wrecked by Eidolons.
Commander Lekkas (MA-Primary): “Siyane, ESC flights are in position and awaiting your orders.”
Alexis Solovy (Siyane): “Copy that. Maintain stealth and commence attaching negative energy mines to the relay modules, but do not activate them.”
Commander Lekkas (MA-Primary): “ESC Flights 1 and 2, proceed with mine staging.”
Alexis Solovy (Siyane): “Meanwhile, I’m just going to sneak all quiet-like past some Central Command Annex defenses and leave a small present on its backup generator.”
The defenses protecting the Annex were, needless to say, nothing to scoff at. But Alex and Valkyrie had been iterating continual improvements to the Siyane’s cloaking shield for more than a year now. If anyone could slip through the defense net, it was them.
Morgan dropped a negative energy mine onto the surface of the relay module beneath her, confirmed solid contact and moved on to the next. Four modules per vessel covered all fifty-two modules.
Six minutes later all the mines were placed. Then they waited.
The timing was tricky. Set them off too soon, and Machimis security was alerted to the offensive before the AEGIS fleet finished taking out the Dyson rings. Set them off too late, and the planetary defenses would swallow her Eidolons whole, stealthed or no.
While this mission served an important strategic purpose, its equal purpose was to make a statement—to knock the enemy back on its heels and disrupt not only its military capabilities but its governing ones. Once the relay modules exploded, the sole power remaining here would be what was stored in batteries on the surface.
As the batteries were swiftly drained by the hungry Machim war machine, the power would begin to go out on Machimis. The more rapidly and dramatically this happened, the more impactful the statement.
Alexis Solovy (Siyane): “Well that was bracing, but they still don’t know we’re here. Commandant Solovy, Phase 2 is fully implemented and awaiting your go-ahead for detonation.”
AFS STALWART II
“Report from ESC Flight Five, Commandant. Machim vessels inbound, 120 megameters distant and closing.”
Miriam had been right about caution winning out on the part of the Machim commander, even in what must be quickly escalating to a crisis situation for the adversary. She filed the information away and checked the mission status. All three rings sliced, making the ultimate outcome inevitable. 11,086 of 15,420 nodes destroyed outright. Phase 2 staged and ready to activate.
Brigadier Ashonye (EAS San Antonio): “EA 2nd DAS Regiment reports successful elimination of bow shock transmitters. Phase 3 complete.”
And now Machimis’ backup-to-the-backup power supply, in the form of an array of modules capturing the energetic by-product of the solar wind impacting the planet’s magnetic field, had been neutralized as
well.
It would do.
Commandant Solovy (AFS Stalwart II): “All Phase 1 and Phase 3 forces break off and rendezvous at Mission Staging Coordinates Beta. Phase 2 forces, trigger all mines then immediately depart to join us at Mission Staging Coordinates Beta.”
The coordinates were eighteen parsecs from Machimis, or two minutes forty-three seconds by sLume propulsion, and far enough away to avoid detection of their momentary presence there. They would’ve been sitting ducks if they stayed here while they waited for the Caeles Prism to power up, the Prevos to connect to it and the traversals to be made.
At the staging coordinates they could afford to take a little time and due care. Besides, she wasn’t inclined to reveal the nature of the newest tool in their arsenal to the enemy.
Another time. Another day.
The Stalwart II’s own sLume drive engaged, and they vanished less than a minute before the enemy arrived.
MACHIMIS CENTRAL COMMAND ANNEX
The Machim Primor rode the space elevator up to the Central Command Annex alone. Fawning aides and valets were a nuisance in the best of circumstances and an inefficient distraction in all circumstances, drawing time and resources away from the work to be done. He tolerated an aide or two when necessary, but more than two made him feel like an Idoni.
Machimis’ omnipresent cloud cover soon obscured the surface below, and a laden silence enveloped the compartment for the several seconds it took to break through the upper atmosphere into low-orbit space.
He spent the time reviewing active operation reports, and the brief trip passed without incident. He disembarked on the Annex and proceeded toward the central meeting room.
Ela and asi alike bowed in reverence as he passed, but above all they took care not to delay him in any manner. He sensed them scurry off to work as soon as he passed. Good. It had been a measurable length of time since three Imperiums had been docked at the Annex at the same time, and the fact they were here now generated a great deal of work for everyone to do.
The official response of the Directorate to the continuing attacks by the Humans, the anarchs and now the Katasketousya was that no exploration, harvesting or military operations were to be postponed or canceled. Business continued as usual, reality be damned.
He could make that happen, but it did require effecting a number of adjustments to resource allocations, and this was before one took into account the enemy which needed vanquishing—also his responsibility. But while Erevna was ready to set fire to the world over the destruction of a single lab, he intended to handle his losses and win the day without a speck of theatrics.
The destruction of several major manufacturing facilities was a significant blow, but hardly an insurmountable one. Similarly so the loss of several divisions’ worth of vessels in the recent battles. The aggregate hit to resources was felt, but only by him and perhaps a few of his elassons. It was, in part, why he was here.
He entered the Annex’s cavernous central meeting room to find the elasson Navarchos captains of the docked Imperiums waiting on him.
The instant he entered the room, the air filled with complex holographic representations of deployments, active assignments and supply points, both functional and otherwise.
He strode to the center of the data. “Gentlemen. While we meet, your vessels are undergoing any necessary repairs and being outfitted for the tasks to be assigned to them. We have many responsibilities in many places, and we will meet them in full.”
The hologram flickered, fading almost to nothingness before sputtering back to life.
He instantly invaded the mind of the Annex Administrator, Polem ela-Machim. Report.
We’ve lost power transmission from Solar Node 1-1405. Backup power initiated until we transition to Node 2-2113.
He continued on with the meeting apace. “Now, the assignment of eighteen percent of the regiments in each LGG Region to guard the gateways is necessary in the short term, but it has reduced our fieldable forces concomitantly. To compensate—”
Polem ela-Machim: Solar Node 2-114 is not transmitting. Transitioning to tertiary node, 3-0839.
It was enough of a shock to cut him off mid-sentence. He remained monitoring Polem’s work as he ordered a full security sweep of the solar sector. He did not yet know what, but something was wrong. Until he did know, he picked up where he had left off. “—for the reduction as well as the brief pause in the supply of new battlecruisers—”
Polem ela-Machim: Tertiary node is not transmitting.
Machimis Planetary Security: Hostile forces detected in solar vicinity. I-1C and D Regiments en route to intercept.
“We have a security situation.” He replaced the logistical map with the results of the security inquiry. Though the display was awash in radar pings indicating unknown vessels when it sprung to life, the number of pings decreased precipitously as he watched. In a matter of seconds all were gone.
So were the three rings orbiting the sun.
The colossal structures provided twenty-eight yottawatts of power to Machimis, the Annex and multiple supporting stations in the stellar system every day. They had taken almost a decade to construct. The amount of power they generated was immense, but so was the power needed to drive the Machim military engine.
Their primary power source had been wiped out in the blink of an eye, the attack completed and the enemy gone almost before anyone had known they were there.
“Threat Alert Orange instituted throughout the system. Emergency response teams are dispatched to evaluate the anomaly with the Solar Power Network. Gentlemen, issue a recall order for your crews and prepare to move on any target identified.”
The nearby gateway was well-guarded; the enemy had not come through it. So they had again utilized unknown wormhole technology to their full advantage. Even so, it was quite a feat to elude comprehensive sensors placed throughout the Machimis system and its outer reaches to arrive at the sun undetected.
Yet they had done so without warning and unopposed. Unchallenged.
They had invaded his own system, wreaked destruction upon it as surely as if they had bombed the planet below, and departed it to leave him to grapple with the resulting havoc. Was there no greater humiliation?
Triage required that he deal with the most pressing issues first, however. He reached out to Theriz and Diaplas to request provisional—
The floor lurched beneath his feet as a low boom echoed through the walls. Was the Annex under attack?
The holograms flickered and went out, and the room fell dark.
Machimis Planetary Security: I’m receiving indications the planetary orbital power relay modules have suffered undetermined damage. Update: a series of near-simultaneous explosions have destroyed the modules.
All the modules. At once. He blinked.
Polem ela-Machim: The explosion we just experienced was the result of a bomb placed on the Annex’s reserve power battery. Switching to emergency power.
A few weak orange lights illuminated to cast a pallid glow across the cavernous room. It was an anemic offering.
Administrator? Security?
Machimis Planetary Security: Sir, the Bow Shock Network is gone. This is all the power we will have, and we will not have it for long.
The enemy hadn’t merely breached the stellar system and its sun. They had breached Machimis high orbit AND Annex defenses. Then they had had their way. Casmir’s impassioned warnings, delivered a few short days earlier, flashed in his mind as cruel, acrimonious taunts.
On the surface, batteries would keep power running for a time. But given their lack of any ability to replace it in the short-to-medium term, they needed to ration the power stored and direct it to essential services.
Directorate wishes be damned. Business was no longer as usual.
He scarcely believed he was giving the order. Institute Threat Alert Red system-wide. Maximum emergency rationing of supplies, staples and power.
As his eyes fell upon the viewport and the planet b
elow, the lights began to go out.
PART VIII:
LIFE, INTERRUPTED
“Because you are alive, everything is possible.”
— Thich Nhat Hanh
56
CENTAURUS ARX
MILKY WAY SECTOR 1
* * *
THE CENTAURUS ARX HUNG LIKE A PRIZE JEWEL staged against a backdrop of lesser gems.
A companion to the closest gateways to Sol—double gateways placed midway between Sol and Alpha Centauri, each connecting to opposite ends of the Milky Way—over the millennia it had grown to become the largest Arx in existence. In fact, it was technically three massive structures connected by a series of flexible passages.
Part mercantile hub, part entertainment extravaganza, part business headquarters and shipping center, one could wander its levels for days and never reach an end. Clear markers, prodigious maps and overbearing security notwithstanding, people routinely got lost. Occasionally they disappeared entirely.
Eren knew precisely where he was going, however. He made his way through the maze under deep disguise, thanks to the noted overbearing security and the fact that his face was now on an Anarch Most Wanted list or something. His cover was as a Diaplas tech engineer. His skin was shifted to olive, his eyes and hair darkened to black, and his facial features altered subtly to change his profile.
The measures taken were extreme, but he’d jumped at the chance to take the lead on this mission—to not only be responsible for the most important location of the operation, but also to coordinate the other agents spread across the Directorate’s domain.
On returning from blowing the Maffei I Gateway with Alex, Caleb and Valkyrie, he’d stopped at Post Alpha long enough to get into costume then traveled straight here. He should be on a collision course with exhaustion, but instead he felt invigorated.
He’d convinced Sator Nisi to go public with an impassioned plea to the two and a half trillion beings living under Directorate rule, but accomplishing such an act wasn’t a simple matter.
Aurora Resonant: The Complete Collection (Amaranthe Collections Book 3) Page 75