by Tori Harris
One of the Marines looked as if he was about to respond to the commander’s obviously rhetorical question, but Master Sergeant Rios took a step in his direction with a look that dared the young trooper to say just one damn word. The young Marine held his hands up in mock surrender and took a step back, abruptly ending the potential for any additional banter, appropriate or otherwise.
Reynolds kicked the toes of her boots into place to engage the feet of her suit, using a motion similar to stepping into a pair of snow skis. She then leaned forward, bending her knees and bowing her head to clear the collar of the suit before standing up again with her arms entering the sleeves over her head. With this accomplished, the rest of the process was entirely automated. The suit made a few creaking sounds that always reminded her of a horse’s saddle as it completely sealed around her body.
Reynolds took a step back from the wall, shifting her shoulders and stomach muscles as the suit fully conformed to her shape.
"Ready when you are, Top."
"Copy that, Commander. Bridge, Flight Deck. We are entering the personnel airlock now. Ready for departure in zero three minutes."
"Acknowledged, Flight Deck," Lieutenant Dubashi replied. "Clear for departure when ready. Expect RPSV launch in zero two minutes."
"Flight Deck acknowledged." Rios activated the personnel airlock departure cycle using the keypad to the right of the massive door, then stepped aside to allow his team into the small chamber. "Let’s move, folks."
Terran Fleet Command procedures required a complete decontamination process prior to exiting or entering all TFC spacecraft when transitioning through "presumed contaminated" environments. The process utilized a combination of chemical and radiative methods to sterilize all external surfaces that would be exposed during the EVA. The system was almost exclusively of Pelaran design, but, so far at least, seemed one hundred percent effective at eliminating all known contaminants without killing the Humans inside their EVA suits.
Once the decontamination cycle was complete, Rios did a quick check of his team prior to opening the external door. "Just a reminder that gravity in the chamber is now at .1 G. That’s not much, but you will still feel the change as you exit the chamber. Breathe normally, don’t get tripped up on the way out, and do not throw up in my EVA suits! Count off if you are ready."
"One, Master Sergeant!"
"Two, Master Sergeant!"
"Three, Master Sergeant!"
"OK, people, here we go." Rios again used a wall-mounted keypad to issue the command to open the external door, immediately stepping outside the ship as the door swung outward. "Give yourselves a few moments to adjust. Then form up fifty meters aft and execute a final suit and weapon systems check."
Wearing combat EVA armor definitely tended to give the operator a sense of invulnerability. The suit’s skin remained flexible enough for fine control movements while being all but impenetrable to micrometeoroid impacts and small caliber kinetic energy weapons. Internally, synthetic musculature increased physical strength of even someone as powerful as Master Sergeant Rios by a factor of five, when necessary. The real feeling of power, however, derived from using the suit’s propulsion systems in a microgravity environment. Small, electrically powered Cannae thrusters, which were essentially scaled down versions of the Ingenuity’s sublight engines, were embedded throughout the backpack and skin of the suit. Working in concert, the thrusters allowed the operator, for all intents and purposes, to fly. Since the operator had no chance of managing the complex task of controlling all twenty-five thrusters manually during flight, a neural interface was built into the suit’s helmet. All the user had to do was simply plot a course to a destination by mentally manipulating the user interface projected in their head-up display. After that, the EVA suit automatically handled the hundreds of thousands of minute adjustments required to transport them safely to their destination.
In spite of her earlier enthusiasm, Reynolds felt a wave of nausea as she stepped through the airlock door and pushed herself away from the ship. Her suit’s AI noted her various physiological responses to stress and immediately began working to help her refocus on the mission at hand. Soothing, cool air flowed into her helmet, followed by the comforting voice of the King of Rock and Roll.
"Good morning, Sally, all EVA systems nominal. Power and oxygen levels looking real good at one hundred percent. Pulse rifle integration is complete. Maneuvering to the rally point now."
"Thank you, Elvis. I’m fine. I just need to get my bearings for a second."
"You’re fine, darlin’. You gotta know I was nervous every time I got on stage. Just relax and let it happen, mamma."
A detached part of Sally’s brain knew how ridiculous it was to be having a conversation with a rock legend who died three hundred years earlier. That awareness, however, coupled with the familiarity of the voice and its association with pleasure, allowed her to relax almost immediately. Psychological research had proven the effectiveness of this approach time and again. Consequently, EVA operators tended to choose AI voices ranging from their own mothers, to famous actors or musicians (Michael Caine and John Wayne were perennial favorites), to famous leaders like Gandhi, Winston Churchill, or even Bill Clinton.
As she approached the rally point with Rios and the other Marines, a Hunter Remotely Piloted Space Vehicle moved into position farther aft and above the squad. Although the current ETSI terms and conditions prohibited weaponization of Ingenuity itself, Fleet considered personal weapons and armed auxiliary aircraft to be something of a loophole in their contract with the Pelarans. Accordingly, the RPSV carried eight HB-7 multimission-capable missiles in addition to fully articulated dorsal and ventral railgun turrets. The RPSV’s small size allowed the frigate to carry four Hunters, capable of handling a number of important missions including reconnaissance, close air support, and even rescue operations under the right circumstances.
Rios managed a surprisingly graceful pirouette as he turned to take in the view of Ingenuity’s stern and complete one last check of his team before moving out. "Alright folks, it looks like everyone is good to go. We’ll be covering the distance to the target in just under zero three minutes. Keep your eyes open and speak up immediately if you see anything that might be a threat. Keep your rifles slung for now."
"Bridge, Rios."
"Rios, go for bridge."
"I’ve got four good suits plus an RPSV in the green. Moving to target."
"Bridge copies. Lieutenant Commander Schmidt found what he believes is an external access hatch. He just uploaded the location to your suits."
"Rios copies. On our way."
Without further comment, Master Sergeant Rios arced away over Ingenuity’s stern in the direction of the target. The Hunter, Commander Reynolds, and the other two Marines followed in loose formation a few seconds later, their own navigation systems following the mission profile predefined by Rios.
As they approached, Reynolds became more aware of the sheer size of the alien spacecraft. The ship had been torn in half somewhat forward of center, but the bow section ahead was still over three hundred meters in length.
"Any chance of us getting that door open, Top? I doubt there’s a brass knocker."
"All we know is what we do on our own ships, Commander, but if that is any indication …"
"There should be emergency hatches we can access from the outside."
"Should be, yes. They are required on commercial and military spacecraft to facilitate rescue operations. Ours always have explosive bolts on the outside and a double airlock behind them. But that’s Earth vessels. Who knows what we’ll find on that thing. Ingenuity is as close as Humans have come so far to building a spacecraft from the ground up as a true combat vessel, and even she has external access hatches. We might rethink that policy if we start running into enemy warships with boarding parties, though."
As the squad approached to within two kilometers, Master Sergeant Rios called for a halt, raising his right hand with a fist just as he
would if he had been commanding a small assault team on Earth.
"Bridge, Rios."
On Ingenuity’s bridge, the unexpected pause had Captain Prescott’s full attention. "I got it," he said immediately, preempting Lieutenant Dubashi’s response. "Rios, Ingenuity-Actual. Is there a problem, Top?"
Tom Prescott had served with Master Sergeant Rios for nearly ten years. While he knew Rios to be a man of singular physical courage, Prescott also trusted the man’s judgment and knew that he would not risk the lives of those under his command unnecessarily.
"Not sure, Captain. I could have sworn I saw movement just aft of our target access hatch."
"Hold your position while we do some close-in recon with the RPSV."
"Rios copies, holding here."
"Lieutenant Dubashi, any fluctuations in power output?"
"No changes in the trend, Captain, but power readings continue to fluctuate. I haven’t seen anything approaching what I would classify as a spike, however."
"That’s what I wanted to hear. Keep a close eye on those readings, Sagari."
"Aye, sir."
"Lieutenant Commander Schmidt, any change in emissions?"
"Negative, sir, but we’ve gathered enough data now to classify the signal as a probable distress call. It also appears to be directional, but I’m having some trouble determining where it’s aimed due to the ship’s rotation. I should have it nailed down shortly."
"Let the ship’s AI chew on that for now, Schmidt. I want you to take manual control of the RPSV and take a closer look at that ship, starting with the area around the access hatch you found."
"I’m on it, sir." Although there were several pilots in Ingenuity’s crew, Lieutenant Schmidt was the only officer on board (with the exception of Captain Prescott) who could claim to be an honest to goodness fighter pilot. He had spent the first ten years of his career in one of the few remaining active fighter squadrons of the United States Navy. "Fighter jocks" had become something of an anachronism in national military services around the world now that modern air combat operations were handled almost exclusively by remotely piloted aircraft. In most cases, this was a reasonable strategy since RPAs were less expensive to operate and not subject to the limitations associated with keeping a Human being alive in the cockpit. Even with advanced AI, however, there were still occasions when automated or remotely piloted drones were not as effective as manned aircraft. In addition, pilots with real flying experience tended to have a completely different perspective on flying, even when forced to do so remotely.
Although Schmidt usually preferred to stand while working at the Science and Engineering console, it just didn’t feel quite right while he was manually "flying" an RPSV. It took only a moment to reconfigure the workstation before taking his seat in what was now essentially a simulated cockpit. After a quick systems check, he took control of the Hunter from the ship’s AI, alerting the other members of the bridge crew with the obligatory verbiage, "I have the RPSV."
"Understood, Schmidt. I want every sensor at our disposal scanning the area around that hatch."
"Aye, sir."
A magnified view of the alien ship’s hull from the perspective of the RPSV took over the center section of the view screen. The sun’s position behind Ingenuity fully illuminated the scene. Although only one-fifth the apparent size in the sky and over thirty times dimmer than in Earth orbit, Sol still pierced the darkness at this distance with an apparent magnitude of -23. Most Humans fortunate enough to have visited the far-flung corners of the solar system were surprised to experience just how brightly illuminated it was. Here, the RPSV needed no external lighting with the sun still shining at over ten thousand times the brightness of a full moon back on Earth.
"Bridge, Rios. I’ve got whatever it is on infrared."
The sensor data from Master Sergeant Rios’ EVA suit was immediately integrated with the RPSV data displayed on Ingenuity’s bridge view screen. In response, Lieutenant Commander Schmidt translated the Hunter to the right and immediately located the heat source.
"Sir, we’ve got ourselves a survivor."
Chapter 3
Earth, Terran Fleet Command Headquarters
(1045 UTC)
All twenty officers crowding the flag conference room rose as Duke Sexton, the Commander in Chief, Terran Fleet Command, CINCTFC, entered.
"Take your seats, people. As usual, this meeting is classified Top Secret, code word MAGI. The room has been automatically secured for this briefing." He glanced at the CNO. "Well, Patterson, I think I’ve lost count, but this seems to be about the fourth earth-shattering news you’ve interrupted us with today, and it’s not even lunchtime yet. I assume with the way information travels around here that everyone in this room is in the loop at this point, but please show us what you’ve got anyway."
"Good morning, again, Admiral Sexton, I’ll get right to it. I believe most of you are aware of events up to and including Ingenuity’s departure, but so much has happened that I’d like to briefly run through this morning’s timeline."
Admiral Patterson paused to look around the room before continuing. In his nearly thirty years of service, this was the first time he could remember having the rapt attention of his entire audience.
A timeline stretched horizontally across the bottom of the screen in the front of the room. Important times were annotated and further emphasized with a strip of small thumbnail picture and videos. As the CNO spoke, the display changed rapidly to keep pace with his briefing. Thumbnail images zoomed to fill the entire screen, with increased detail and additional computer-generated annotation perfectly timed to emphasize the most important points.
"At 0620 UTC, one of our surveillance drones detected explosions near the orbit of Jupiter – on the opposite side of the sun from Earth’s current position. Based on the position of the drone, we knew that the explosions had occurred ten minutes prior, at around 0610 UTC, and at a distance of approximately fifty-three light minutes from Earth. Local reconnaissance assets were redeployed based on that data, allowing us to observe the area in question beginning at around 0640 UTC. Approximately twenty-two minutes later, this squadron of thirteen spacecraft transitioned in. We missed it at first, but if you’ll watch closely, you can see that one of the ships transitions out again less than two seconds later. These ships are, of course, of unknown origin, unknown configuration, and unknown intent. Light from the explosions arrived at Earth at 0703 UTC. We had less than ten seconds to capture as much detail as possible from the time the ships arrived until they were destroyed."
During the two hours since Admiral Patterson had briefed Captain Prescott, additional sources of footage had been integrated and the original imagery enhanced and modeled in three-dimensional space. The result was as spectacular as any epic science fiction movie ever produced by Hollywood. The screen was divided into three panels, each showing a variety of angles, varying zoom levels, and even "flyby" footage of the battle. The destruction of the alien squadron was displayed in such exquisite detail that it was difficult to grasp the fact that it had been recorded by various spacecraft located nearly one billion kilometers away from the battle itself.
In spite of the fact that nearly everyone in the room had seen some version of the footage, there were audible gasps, a number of expletives, and the general sound of senior naval officers shifting uncomfortably in their seats.
At the head of the table, Admiral Sexton raised his hands. "Settle down, folks. Without a doubt, we are witnessing unprecedented, historical events unfolding before us this morning, but we’ve all been expecting things to get more interesting for some time, have we not?"
The Commander in Chief looked around the table at his staff, allowing the room to go dead quiet before he continued. "Look, ladies and gentlemen, we are more prepared for this kind of thing than we’ve ever been before. That’s not to say that we’re anywhere near where we need to be in terms of military capabilities, but we’re at least at a point where we are aware of what is happ
ening inside our own system and can put assets in play quickly when we need to do so. Let’s not start jumping to a bunch of conclusions about what happens next. I need each and every one of you on point, doing your jobs better than you’ve ever done them in your life. We have ten billion people depending on us, so stay sharp and listen up."
Aware that he had probably said more than he should under the circumstances, the CINCTFC nodded for Admiral Patterson to proceed with his briefing.
"At 0705, two minutes after we witnessed the destruction of the alien vessels, we received this message." Admiral Patterson nodded towards the screen, now displaying an image of the Pelaran "Flash" message. "It was received over the secure command and control channels of the NRD network and is presumably Pelaran in origin. After fifty years of receiving ETSI data, this is believed to be the first direct, non-broadcast communication from the Pelarans."
The CNO nodded to Admiral Sexton, who had raised his hand to interject a point.
"I’m open to suggestions to the contrary, but I think we have to take the message at face value for now. The Pelarans believe they know our technical capabilities better than we do at this point, so they assumed we would detect the battle, or at least the after-effects of it. I’m guessing they primarily wanted to inform us that they had perceived a threat and taken military action within our solar system."
The commandant of the TFC Marine Corps looked up from his furious note taking. As was his habit, he eschewed tablet computers for an old school legal pad and pencil. "So we’re assuming this ‘Guardian System’ is the ship that took out that squadron. Did we get a picture of this thing?"
The CNO pointed to Admiral Tonya White, Chief of Naval Intelligence.
"So far, we don’t think so," she replied. "We’re in the earliest stages of sifting through the data we have so far. I can tell you, however, that we believe the Pelarans were using some sort of antimatter-based beam weapon. That’s the only thing we know of that might, in theory, result in the type of damage we just saw. The beam itself is invisible, but we’re hoping we might be able to determine the approximate position of the source, based on the physics of the exploding ships. Then, we’ll just have to see if we happened to get it on video. The Pelaran vessel could have been tens of thousands of kilometers away when it fired, so I wouldn’t bet on it."