by Tori Harris
“First and best, sir,” Commander Schmidt said proudly.
“First and best,” Prescott replied, smiling broadly. “By the way, let’s just stick with ‘Captain’ for now, if you would. I’m afraid if you all suddenly start calling me ‘Commodore,’ I might miss something important. Are we ready to go?”
“Yes, sir. All systems in the green. The ship is at General Quarters for combat ops and ready to C-Jump,” Schmidt reported as he made his way back to the Tactical 1 console.
“Very good … Commander Logan, bridge.”
“Logan here. Go ahead, Captain.”
“If you’re having doubts about any of our critical systems, particularly the shields and the C-Drive, now would be a good time to say so.”
“As much as I hate to tempt fate by answering that question, everything down here is exceeding expectations so far, sir. That short C-Jump provided some data that allowed us to dial the C-Drive in a little tighter, so you should be able to expect good positional accuracy and the full one-hundred-light-year range. In fact, you might see a little more than that if the current trend holds. As far as the shields go, they are almost completely managed by the AI, so there isn’t much either of us can or should do other than hope they work when we need them.”
“We aren’t going far, but it wouldn’t surprise me if we get a warm greeting at first when we arrive. If you see the slightest indication that the shields are not going to hold, I need to know immediately.”
“Aye, sir, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Thank you, Commander. Stand by for C-Jump followed by possible incoming fire. Prescott out.”
SCS Hadeon, Pelaran Resistance Rally Point
(3.3 light years from Earth)
“Perimeter drone contact!” a Wek lieutenant called from one of Hadeon’s four Defensive Operations workstations. As if to further emphasize the lieutenant’s announcement, the sound of the battlespace defense cruiser’s reactors increasing their power output was clearly audible on the bridge as she automatically opened fire with her starboard energy weapons banks. “Only one ship this time, and in almost exactly the same location as the previous two scout ships. The AI classified the contact as a probable Terran warship and has already engaged.”
“That much I can hear for myself. Who gave the order to fire?” Captain Miah demanded, furious not because of the attack so much as the idea that anyone would presume to take action without his expressed permission.
“Captain,” Commander Takkar said, leaning over and speaking in a low voice in an attempt to save the pompous Damaran from further embarrassment, “the task force’s standing rules of engagement allow the battlespace defense AI to autonomously attack hostile targets if there is sufficient data to classify them as such. The system was designed to provide force protection over a large area of space. Removing the need for manual intervention is a key …”
“I’m fully versed on the design of the Keturah-class BD cruiser, Commander,” Miah interrupted with such a vehement tone that Takkar pulled quickly away — his mind instinctively preparing his body to defend itself, if necessary.
The massive Wek commander’s reaction caused an equally involuntary chill to run down Commander Miah’s spine. Realizing that he was perilously close to crossing a line that might yield an unpredictable response from this simple-minded barbarian, he immediately moderated his tone.
“Apologies, Commander. I am not sure the original rules of engagement should still apply, given the dramatically diminished size of our current force. That, however, is a discussion for later. In the meantime, does it make sense to you that the Humans would send a single vessel back to the precise location where they lost contact with two of their scouts?”
“I prefer not to speculate, Captain Miah, but the Terrans might simply be looking for their missing ships,” Takkar said, furrowing his brow. “It’s also possible they know we are here and wish to communicate with us.”
“If that were the case, I assume we would have received their hail by now. Besides, I’m sure they are intelligent enough to realize that our immediately opening fire on them is a strong indication that we are not here to chat,” Miah sneered.
“The Pelarans seem to be in the habit of sending in a single ship … one with such an asymmetric technological advantage that additional ships are simply not required,” Takkar said as he called up a real-time video feed of the intruder from the closest surveillance drone. He had offered this final explanation not because he believed it to be the case so much as he knew that it would both irritate and terrify the Damaran.
“Nonsense! There is no indication the Humans have done much more than putter around in the immediate vicinity of the Sol system with a few small scout ships and maybe a frigate or two,” Miah scoffed. “Surely you don’t mean to imply they have anything that might pose a serious threat to several of our warships at one time.”
Commander Takkar, having long since grown tired of Miah’s seemingly endless stream of insulting comments, simply nodded towards the view screen in reply. The light-amplified and thermally enhanced image of the approaching Terran warship was rendered with a stunning level of clarity, and it was with no small degree of satisfaction that Takkar detected a renewed stench of fear from his so-called captain.
TFS Theseus, Location Dagger
Since the primary objective of Theseus’ mission was contingent on the Resistance task force agreeing to a parley, there was no particular need for subtlety upon her arrival at Location Dagger. In fact, Prescott had intentionally chosen their transition point to coincide with the final recon location of the two missing Hunter RPSVs in the faint hope that it might provide some indication of their intentions.
“Four contacts,” Lieutenant Lau reported immediately from Tactical 2. “Passive sensors only so far — approximate range: three million kilometers — four Sajeth Collective cruiser-class warships. They’ll have us in six seconds, Captain.”
“Understood. Designate as Charlie 1 through 4 and bring up a tactical plot on the starboard view screen, please,” Prescott replied calmly. “Dubashi, begin transmitting Admiral Naftur’s parley request hail in a continuous loop until we get a response.”
“Aye, sir,” both responded as the somewhat intimidating tactical plot appeared on the right side of the view screen. With the exception of Lieutenant Lee, every member of the bridge crew had witnessed firsthand the huge volume of firepower even a single cruiser could bring to bear, and each now struggled to steel themselves for the potential battle to come.
Sensing the tension in the room, Prescott spoke up in as confident a tone as he could muster. “Everyone take a deep breath and relax. We may well get fired on shortly, but we’ll be just fine. Keep in mind that we’re here to defend our home, and while we would prefer to avoid a fight if we can, we’ve brought exactly the right ship for the job if a fight turns out to be what’s required.”
“Hooyah, sir,” Lieutenant Lau replied.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” Prescott asked.
“Hooyah!” every member of the bridge crew shouted as one.
As if on cue, both Tactical consoles emitted a series of warning chimes indicating that the threat posed by the nearby warships had increased to critical levels, requiring the crew to take immediate action.
“They have opened fire with energy weapons, sir,” Lau reported. “It’s a little wide … almost like they are still working up a firing solution … or maybe just trying to bracket our position.”
“The AI says it’s also a little early,” Schmidt added from Tactical 1.
“Now there’s some actionable information,” Prescott replied eagerly. “Patterson suspected they were using something similar to NRD surveillance drones as some kind of wide-area fleet defense network. See anything nearby?”
“Not yet, sir, but it would have to be close … they opened up almost immediately after we transitioned.”
“We’re here to talk, but we don’t have to sit here and allow ourselves to
be an easy target for them. Use an active spherical scan at maximum power and let the AI know what it’s looking for. Take it out as soon as you find it.”
“With pleasure, sir,” Schmidt said.
Working feverishly at her own touchscreen, Commander Reynolds opened a tactical assessment window on the port side of the bridge view screen. Multiple views of each of the four enemy ships were displayed with all known vulnerabilities highlighted. Glancing up quickly from her own Command console, she was gratified to see that two of the four cruisers were of the same type they had encountered previously — each suffering from the same field of fire limitations Ingenuity had used to great advantage in the battle at Gliese 667. Thus far, no such vulnerability had been noted for Charlie 3 and 4, but since all four warships had similar hull configurations, she had confidence that something similar would apply to them as well. Completing an exhaustive analysis of the cruisers’ engine configurations, the AI added the now-familiar gap between each ship’s sublight engine nozzles and their aft shields.
“Same lobing pattern as before near the engine nozzles on all four targets, Captain,” she reported, nodding in the direction of the tactical assessment. “Charlie 1 and 2 also have the same limited firing envelope on their main weapons we saw before. The other two cruisers are something different — defensive platforms maybe, based on their long-range energy weapons.”
“Excellent. That might come in handy, but I’m still hopeful it won’t come to that. I’m not all that concerned about this incoming fire just yet. We’re well out of their effective beam weapon range based on what we know about their cruisers so far. What we’re seeing right now actually seems like some kind of automated defensive response. For the moment, I think we just need to sit tight and see what they do. We have to give them time to receive our message and decide how to handle it before we take any definitive action ourselves.”
“Do you intend to close with them?”
“Unless they stop shooting at us, hell no!” Prescott laughed. “If we’re going to have a conversation, however, it would be helpful to get a little closer. If they agree to talk to us, I’d say we can move in to three hundred thousand kilometers or so. That will give us a manageable, one-second comm delay, but still provide us enough room to maneuver if they do something unexpected.”
“I have their surveillance drone, sir,” Schmidt reported, excitement creeping into his voice. “Firing …”
Outside, a single, gimbaled beam emitter mounted amidships on Theseus’ starboard side swiveled in the direction of its target and discharged, vaporizing the drone within a fraction of a second as if it were barely worthy of the destroyer’s attention.
“Target destroyed,” Schmidt reported.
“Nice job. That should at least make us a little harder to hit. We must have transitioned right on top of that thing, and I’m guessing that’s how they got our two Hunters as well. Make a note that we need to tweak our passive scans to pick those up, if possible. They have to be giving off some kind of emissions we can detect.”
“Aye, sir.”
Just prior to the surveillance drone being destroyed, Hadeon’s fire-control AI had finally perfected an extreme-range firing solution for its target, sent the necessary corrections to its starboard beam emitters, and fired. Ten seconds later, the salvo began arriving at its target. In response, Theseus’ AI detected, then localized the infinitesimal interactions occurring between the incoming energy and its own gravitic fields, performed the immensely complex calculations required to deflect the energy, and then dramatically increased power to create an intense gravitic distortion at the chosen location. The first set of shield intercept events occurred above the destroyer’s bow, each one creating a brief flash of light in the visible spectrum.
“Whoa … I’m pretty sure that was a hit on the forward shields,” Lieutenant Lau reported. “Yes, several confirmed hits. The AI is reporting successful intercepts. Zero hull impacts so far.”
“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day,” Prescott replied, exhaling with relief. “Tactical, let’s add your hull impact counter to the tactical plot. Helm, they will probably lose their firing solution now that we have destroyed their drone, but go ahead and perform some evasive maneuvers to further complicate their targeting. Maintain roughly the same range and bearing to the Resistance ships for now, but keep them guessing. I’d prefer they not have the opportunity to start gauging the effectiveness of our shields just yet.”
“Aye, sir,” Lau and Fisher replied.
“Commander Logan, bridge.”
“Logan here. Go ahead, Captain.”
“We’ve had some shield impacts. Anything we need to know?”
“As long as you know someone is shooting at us, I think we’re good for now,” Logan replied. “Those hits wouldn’t have done much damage at this range anyway, but it looks like the system is performing as advertised so far.”
“That’s outstanding news, Commander. Let us know if you see a problem. Prescott out.”
“Sir, they appear to have ceased fire,” Schmidt reported.
“And they are hailing us,” Dubashi added from the Communications console. “Textual only. It reads: ‘Parley request granted. Power down all weapons and approach to within four hundred thousand kilometers. Do not exceed .01 c. Any acts of aggression will result in your vessel’s immediate destruction. Hadeon out.’”
“Not exactly rolling out the red carpet, but good enough, I suppose. Fisher, how long will that take us at one percent light?” Prescott asked.
“Including acceleration and deceleration time, just under twenty minutes, sir,” he replied immediately.
“Thank you. Make it happen, please. Dubashi, go ahead and reply with a simple acknowledgment and an ETA. Also, please have a message sent to the medical bay requesting an update on Admiral Naftur and urgently requesting Ambassador Turlaka’s presence on the bridge as soon as she is available.”
“Aye, sir,” she replied.
“I don’t guess I need to point out that they may have stopped firing because they lost their drone and recognize this as an opportunity to have us willingly fly right into their optimal kill range?” Reynolds asked.
“That’s a little cynical, don’t you think, Commander?” Prescott said with a grin. “Fine. Let me tell you what I have in mind, just in case that happens …”
F-373 “Gamble 22,” Near the Original Pelaran Resistance Rally Point
(In hyperspace - 3.3 light years from Earth)
“Admiral Patterson wants us to what?” the pilot asked, incredulous.
“Now that Theseus has arrived and the supporting flights of additional fighters are standing by to assist, he has asked us to attempt to follow the trail of particle emissions left by the departing Resistance ships,” the fighter’s AI replied in a matter-of-fact tone.
“What trail? You never said anything about any trail. Why are you just now mentioning this?”
“I didn’t detect it at first, but once we established data links back to the Navajo, I was able to get some help processing all of the data we’ve been collecting. Admiral Patterson had already requested that the Navajo’s AI try to determine the destination of the departing ships, so we’ve been working on the problem together while you and I have been stuck out here waiting for further orders.”
“I’m happy for you both. What did you find?”
“It turns out that there is a faint trail of what you might refer to as exotic particles, but it decays over time. We actually just came to the conclusion that it should be possible for us to follow the trail only a short time ago. The Navajo’s AI then brought it to Admiral Patterson’s attention and … Hey, look at it this way, at least now we have something interesting to do again.”
“Hold on a second, there. What, specifically, are we being asked to do?”
“Now that we know there are four Resistance capital ships guarding their original rally point, and we have seen two additional ships depart since we got here, Admiral
Patterson believes the bulk of their forces are no more than one light year away — perhaps much closer. We’re simply going to follow their trail until we find them.”
“Oh sure, that sounds simple enough. Seriously, how are we supposed to do that?”
“The quickest way is a series of consecutive C-Jumps. We jump, look for the trail, jump again … lather, rinse, repeat. Assuming the particle emissions lead all the way to their destination, it shouldn’t take us very long.”
“Okay, so if and when we find where they left hyperspace, are we expected to transition out and take a peek?”
“No. The last thing we want to do is spook them into moving again. So we’ll most likely need to C-Jump back here to transmit a real-time report. It’s a pretty big deal, actually. If Fleet knows where all the Resistance forces are located, it becomes much more straightforward to orchestrate a decisive attack, if necessary.”
“Alright, alright. I’ll grant you that it’s better than sitting out here with nothing to look at. By the way, did you just say ‘lather, rinse, repeat?’”
“You say it all the time. Are you interested in hearing a playback of the five most recent occasions?”
“I say a lot of stuff I wouldn’t want you to repeat, but I have never in my life, not one time, said that,” he replied, knowing that this argument was well and truly lost. “I assume you have a series of C-Jumps plotted?”
“You should be able to see a waypoint indicator for the first one now. All systems in the green. C-Jump range 48.5 light years and stable. We are prepared for transition.”