by Tori Harris
From a practical standpoint, the decision to share certain details of the system’s capabilities was his alone to make. The mission to the Sol system had been put together so quickly that the new surveillance drones did not yet allow for continuous oversight of his activities by his masters on the Governing Council. Yet as isolating and problematic as it was for him to be the only member of his task force with access to the drones’ data, Sarafi admitted to himself that it was a bit intoxicating to be the only officer possessed of what felt like a nearly omnipotent view of his battlespace. At the relatively short distance of 22.9 light days, the Gunov had reestablished contact with the surveillance drones at the original rally point in less than an hour. Since then, he had simply watched and waited. In the interim, two additional Rusalov-class battleships had arrived and been forwarded on to the secondary rally point without incident. The longer he had waited, however, the more he had begun to wonder whether the loathsome Commander Miah had been correct. Perhaps the Humans were either unwilling — or even unable — to send additional ships to investigate the loss of their scout vessels. If that were indeed the case, his move to the secondary rally point had been an unnecessary precaution.
Contingencies wrapped within contingencies, he mused. In Sarafi’s opinion, there were far too many allowances for such things in the mission plan he had been given. The whole thing read like nothing more than a long series of conditional “if-then” statements, some of which were based on scenarios that he thought so unlikely as to border on the absurd. Then again, the first seemingly unlikely event had already taken place — the Humans had located the original rally point — forcing him to alter the original, simple plan (which he favored) in a manner he never would have predicted. Rather than simply allowing all of his forces to arrive at the original rally point, then proceeding to Terra for a quick, devastating strike (any interference from the Guardian notwithstanding), the plan now required him to use a portion of his forces as “bait” in hopes of enticing the Humans to attack. Otherwise, there was little if any military justification for leaving several ships to “guard” the original rally point. While sacrifices were sometimes required in battle, Sarafi was still somewhat uncomfortable with the idea that so many lives were being placed at risk in pursuit of what amounted to nothing more than a grand political agenda.
The Resistance leaders with seats on the Governing Council realized early on that the biggest single risk inherent in the expedition to attack Terra was that their forces would be completely wiped out by the Guardian spacecraft, the Humans, or a combination of both. Their concern, however, was not for the loss of their naval forces so much as the potential for wasting the opportunity represented by such a monumental crisis. A “victory,” from their perspective, required at least some of the task force to return home carrying a precious cargo of data — propaganda, Sarafi corrected himself. Depending on what events had transpired in the Sol system, that data would be leveraged to either justify the destruction of a nearly defenseless civilization, or to prove just how dangerous the Terrans had already become. The former would solidify their place in history as defenders of the Collective, the latter would most likely tip the balance in favor of all-out war in defense of their member worlds.
After what seemed an interminable period of waiting, the Humans had finally arrived at the original rally point. Watching events unfold from 593 billion kilometers away, Sarafi initially feared that the Resistance leaders’ strategy had backfired. Surely, with only a single Human ship arriving on the scene, there was little chance of anything more dramatic than an immediate surrender. Just as anticipated, however, Commander Miah — that fool of a Damaran — had somehow managed to provoke a confrontation. Unfortunately, the result, while exactly what the mission planners had hoped for in one sense, had hardly provided the raw material needed to portray the Humans as bloodthirsty savages bent on the destruction of the Collective.
The relatively small, Pelaran-enhanced Human vessel, along with a small group of fighter spacecraft, had easily defeated four resistance vessels, any one of which should have been more than their equal in battle. Precisely how this had been accomplished was still a bit of a mystery. The Human fighters had fired twenty-four missiles at the Babayev at a range that should have allowed them to be easily intercepted — even for one of the older, Shopak-class cruisers. Yet, for whatever reason, it appeared that none of the missiles had been intercepted by energy weapons fire or blocked by the ship’s shields. Once again, Sarafi silently cursed the rigid security measures governing the use of the new surveillance drone system. Since none of the officers aboard the Resistance ships at the original rally point had been granted access, their AIs were likewise not authorized to share their invaluable, on-scene tactical analyses or even their comm feeds with the Gunov. Instead, Sarafi was limited to the data-gathering capabilities of the surveillance drones themselves which, while considerable, paled in comparison to the warships that had launched them.
The longer he watched, the more unacceptable the situation became, and, in response, Sarafi began composing the official justification he would use to render the normally inflexible security protocols a bit more pliable. At least, he hoped, sufficiently pliable to avoid being prosecuted for improper handling of classified data. The notion that he still had to be concerned about such things seemed patently ridiculous at this point anyway — considering that he was currently in the process of leading a technically extralegal, officially unsanctioned military expedition against the homeworld of another civilization. Laws governing such things, he knew, were often ignored, or in some cases reshaped to indemnify those in positions of power.
In any event, it was not necessary for Sarafi to clear all of his personnel for access to the classified information. Even if he could justify something as simple as allowing the Gunov’s tactical officers to analyze the raw surveillance drone data feeds, he felt certain that they would be able to quickly determine why the Human attack had been so successful. If he did not do so at some point, would he not be held equally accountable if the Humans then managed to execute the same sort of attacks against the bulk of his forces?
Perhaps worst of all for the political component of his mission was what he had observed after the Babayev had been rendered defenseless in the aftermath of the skirmish with the Human warship. Hadeon, obviously surprised to find herself at a tactical disadvantage, had ceased fire and shortly thereafter begun launching her shuttles in the direction of the stricken cruiser Babayev. The only scenario Sarafi could imagine to fit what he had observed was that Commander Miah had fired first, then promptly surrendered to the Human vessel as soon as he had suffered his first loss. Once the shooting had stopped, the Human warship had shown remarkable restraint, allowing the Resistance vessels to conduct their rescue operations when it would have been entirely within their rights to destroy every enemy vessel in the area.
Sarafi had been considering the idea of sending in additional Resistance warships to provoke the Humans into continuing the battle when the Baldev arrived. Surely, this was the best possible scenario for accomplishing the political portion of his mission objectives. If the Human warship managed to destroy four cruisers as well as the lead vessel in the newest class of Sajeth Collective battleships, he would certainly capture all of the data necessary to convey the nature of the threat back to the Governing Council. If, on the other hand, the Human vessel was destroyed, Sarafi felt confident that he could proceed with the original mission to attack Terra with a reasonable assurance of success.
At that moment, the distressing sound of what he now recognized as a defense perimeter violation alarm interrupted his deliberations.
“Commodore Sarafi to the bridge,” his communications officer announced urgently over the ship’s intercom system.
Chapter 4
TFS Theseus, Location Dagger
(3.3 light years from Earth)
“Multiple new contacts!” Lieutenant Lau announced from Tactical 1.
“Did we de
tect hyperspace transitions?” Prescott asked, glancing quickly at the tactical plot for confirmation.
“No, sir … stand by … confirmed, the Baldev is launching fighters.”
“Understood. Let’s try to stay clear of them if we can. Let me know when you have a total count.”
“Aye, sir. Ten so far and still launching. It looks like they are just forming up to one side of Bravo 1 for now.”
“Commander Schmidt, it occurs to me that the Wek aren’t big believers in point defenses, so if those fighters happen to get within range of ours at some point …”
“The sea-whiz will make believers out of them, sir.”
“Very good. Be watching for the opportunity. You might have to tweak the AI’s settings a bit. Otherwise, if we switch the railguns to point defense mode, it will primarily be looking to stop inbound missiles rather than taking down fighters.”
“Aye, sir,” Schmidt replied, sensing that his captain’s unusually specific instructions were a sign that he was perhaps a bit more apprehensive than during previous engagements.
“Both Badger flights are standing by, sir,” Dubashi said from the Communications console.
“Excellent. Signal them to —”
“Multiple contacts, multiple hyperspace transitions. These are behind us, sir!” Lieutenant Lau interrupted, this time in an even more excited, urgent tone.
“Easy, Lieutenant Lau,” Prescott soothed. “They’re ours, right?” Still staring at the tactical plot, he could see that the latest contacts were represented by two yellow icons, each with an “UNK” indicator to show that the precise number of contacts had yet to be determined. Seconds later, both icons changed to blue with accompanying text blocks designating twenty-four additional F-373 fighters each for Badger 1 and Badger 2 Flights, respectively. –
“Yes, sir, they’re ours,” Lau said sheepishly. “And they just C-Jumped again — right into an extended trail formation with the original two flights.”
“Dubashi, signal the fighters to commence their attack,” Prescott ordered. “Helm, steer in the general direction of Charlie 2, and follow our fighters in case we need to finish her off. Don’t crowd them, though. Hang back and let’s allow the situation to develop a bit before we go charging in.”
“Aye, sir,” Fisher and Dubashi replied in unison.
Although Ensign Fisher had immediately adjusted course to follow Badger 1 Flight, he need not have done so. Within seconds of receiving their order to attack, both groups of fighters transitioned to hyperspace.
“Badger 1 and Badger 2 Flights have transitioned, sir,” Lau reported.
Before Lieutenant Lau could finish his sentence, thirty-six Reaper fighters reappeared in normal space, roughly seventy-five thousand kilometers aft of Charlie 2. The flight had executed their C-Jump so that they arrived in a stacked, line-abreast formation, providing every spacecraft a clear line of fire in the direction of the cruiser’s vulnerable stern.
“Badger 1 Flight - Fox Charlie!” came the tactical comm call from Captain Zhukov, indicating that his formation was firing C-Drive-equipped missiles — in this case, two HB-7cs from each of the flight’s thirty-six fighters. As soon as the missiles were clear of the formation, every spacecraft pitched down slightly to clear their flight paths, followed shortly thereafter by Zhukov’s call of “Badger 1 Flight is Juliet.” With that, the entire flight transitioned to hyperspace once again. Although each individual ship was still under the direct control of a single pilot, each of those pilots was trained to interact on an almost subconscious level via their neural interface. This interaction took place not only with their own fighter and its AI, but also with every other ship in their flight, particularly with their flight commander, Captain Zhukov. The result was much more than a mere merger of “Human and machine.” Instead, it was truly more of a coupling of Human and artificial intelligence at such a fundamental level that their performance far eclipsed what either was capable of achieving without the other.
At precisely the same instant that Captain Zhukov’s fighters had appeared behind Charlie 2, Commander Waffer’s flight had split into two separate elements. The largest of the two groups, with twenty-four spacecraft, appeared aft of Bravo 1, quickly confirmed that Charlie 3 and 4 were still designated as noncombatants, and then immediately executed a “probing attack” against the Baldev. “Badger 21 Flight - Fox Charlie!” Commander Waffer called as a total of forty-eight anti-ship missiles streaked away toward the distant battleship.
The smaller group, composed of twelve fighters, flashed aggressively into normal space so close to the Baldev’s fighter escorts that their targets were already well within optimal railgun range. The Reaper formation slashed directly through the middle of the still-assembling Resistance fighters behind a deadly wall of fragmented kinetic energy rounds that raced away from the F-373s at nearly ten percent the speed of light. “Badger 22 Flight - Guns Guns Guns!” came the call from the lead pilot in the second element of Badger 2 Flight. Each pilots’ announcement of weapons releases, while somewhat helpful in keeping Theseus’ crew updated on the progress of the attacks, came at such a rapid pace that it was difficult to follow the battle, even while staring at a real-time tactical plot.
“Badger 2 Flight is Juliet,” Commander Waffer called, as both elements of his flight C-Jumped away to regroup and assess the damage from their first attack run.
All of the Resistance fighters unfortunate enough to have been caught in the path of Badger 22 Flight’s railgun attack — which turned out to be a total of nine — were ground into rapidly expanding clouds of dust by the barrage of fragments laid down by the Human fighters. Like an afterthought tinged with bitter regret, the Baldev herself had finally opened up with her energy weapons, but her response was far too late to even test any of the Reapers’ shields.
“My God. Are you able to keep up with what’s happening?” Reynolds asked quietly. “I feel like I’m five minutes behind this battle and it just started thirty seconds ago.”
“The violence and speed of the attacks is a key element of their strategy,” Prescott said. “Don’t get too hung up on the comm calls. In fact, we can discontinue them if they are too distracting. Just continue using your tactical plot like you always have and focus on the AI’s battle damage assessment.”
“One two zero friendly missiles in flight, Captain,” Lieutenant Lau reported from Tactical 2, “they are transitioning … stand by … impacts! Multiple impacts on both Charlie 2 and Bravo 1.”
“Enhanced views of each, please,” Prescott ordered, after which two windows opened on the view screen displaying zoomed-in, light-amplified views of both ships. The image of Charlie 2 had barely stabilized on the screen before the entire aft end of the ship was cleaved into two sections. At the same time, the massive cruiser’s outer hull appeared to be in the process of being peeled back from the stern as a result of incredibly violent explosions deep within her drive section. For a moment, it looked as if she, like her sister ship the Babayev, might be taken out of action while remaining largely intact, but it was not to be. As Theseus’ bridge crew watched in awe, the entire image bloomed forth in brilliant white light, temporarily obscuring their view as the entire ship exploded in a colossal ball of antimatter-induced fire.
“Charlie 2 destroyed,” Lieutenant Commander Schmidt reported calmly.
“Badger 22 Flight - Vampire Vampire Vampire!” the lead pilot in the second element of Badger 2 Flight called over the tactical comm channel, indicating that they had detected the launch of hostile anti-ship missiles.
“Confirmed, Captain,” Schmidt said, “I have a missile launch from Charlie 4. Zero eight enemy missiles in flight. They’re targeting us, sir. Estimated time to impact, three three seconds. No friendly missiles in flight at this time. Damage to Bravo 1 unknown.”
“Just eight? Anything from Charlie 3?”
“No, sir, not yet, although she still looks to be putting herself in a position to fire. None of them are even bothering with their
energy weapons at the moment — just the salvo of missiles from Charlie 4. Wait one … disregard what I said about Charlie 3, she just transitioned to hyperspace.”
“Understood,” Prescott replied. “Advise immediately if she returns to the area. Designate Charlie 4 as an enemy combatant. Helm, we’re going to let the fighters worry about that last cruiser for now. Plot a C-Jump to a position in the neighborhood of where Badger 21 Flight launched their missiles at the Baldev’s stern. We should be getting updated battle damage assessment data forwarded from the fighters shortly. Hopefully, that will give us some idea of what we’re up against.”
“Estimated time to impact, one three seconds,” Lieutenant Commander Schmidt reported from Tactical 1.
“Helm, execute your C-Jump when ready.”
“Aye, sir. Tactical C-Jumping.”
On the bridge view screen, Theseus’ AI displayed a “flyby” of the debris that had until recently been Charlie 2 before passing rapidly over the top of the Baldev. After transitioning back into normal space, Ensign Fisher once again pushed the destroyer’s sublight engines to full power, beginning a vertical climb as if to perform a loop. As the ship passed over the point where the maneuver began, he performed a half-roll to complete an Immelmann turn and headed the ship back in the direction of its target.