| |
Earth at T plus 422 days
Howard decided not to hide his annoyance when Commander Kelly once again followed Shiloh into his office without being explicitly told to do so. If the two of them kept behaving this way, he would feel compelled to take official notice and reprimand them both. Having an intimate relationship while in the same chain of command was one thing, but ignoring normal protocols when it came to senior officers was pushing it. To emphasize his displeasure, he made a point of lighting his own cigar, but not offering cigars to either of them. He saw both of them exchange a quick look. Good, maybe they were getting the message.
“I’ve read your After Action report, of course. I can’t find fault with anything you or your command did at Delta44. Your fighters searched about as thoroughly as anyone could ask for. I doubt if we’ll ever find out what happened to that frigate crew.” Howard paused before continuing. “As tragic as that loss is, we have to move on because there are other issues that have to be addressed. We got word back three days ago from the recon mission to the Sag Arm. Nemesis was still in Jumpspace at the time, and that’s why you’re hearing about this now. There was no sign of any AIs left over from your retro-temporal mission there. The recon mission did find traces of infrastructure that was apparently destroyed, but whether by the AIs themselves or by another agency was impossible to tell. The recon fighters are on their way back to Site C now. And speaking of Site C, work has begun on building copies of the new carrier design that you recommended in your report. Site B has too. So that leaves us with two mysteries: no sign of the hostile entity the Friendlies warned us about and no clue as to what happened in the Sag Arm after Nemesis left. Comments?”
“Commander Kelly and I discussed the implications of the missing frigate extensively on the way back here. We both agree that, subject to new evidence to the contrary, the prudent assumption to make at this point is that the frigate was attacked by the hostile entity and did not suffer some kind of catastrophic systems failure. With that as the basis for further actions, we recommend that at least half of the five thousand fighters guarding the Rim be redeployed to search star systems in the vicinity of Delta44. They should be assigned to star systems in at least double squadron strength, and they should be armed with attack drones.
“With regards to the Sag Arm mystery...” Shiloh paused to look at Kelly who gave a slight shrug, “I think that question will have to wait. Off hand, I can’t think of anything we could do to solve that mystery without taking Nemesis back in time again, and I can think of a lot of reasons not to do that, Admiral.”
Howard leaned back and took a puff of his cigar as he pondered Shiloh’s comments. “I was thinking along the same lines with regards to redeploying the Rim fighters. Are you thinking that there could still be a threat from the Sag Arm and therefore some fighters should remain on the Rim?”
“Yes, Admiral,” said Shiloh. Kelly nodded her agreement.
“Okay. How long would you estimate it would take to recall them and get them out there looking for this alleged hostile entity?”
“According to Paladin, it would take a minimum of eighty-nine days to redeploy all twenty-five hundred fighters. The first squadrons could be on station in thirty-four days because we can start with Site B and C fighters that are still within easy reach. Some of the recalled Rim fighters can take their place guarding those sites.” Shiloh wanted to say more in response to the CSO’s apparent conviction that the threat wasn’t real, but he decided to hold back. It was clear that the Old Man was annoyed at both of them, and questioning his opinions now was not a good tactical move.
“Yes, I understand. Some of those Rim fighters will take longer to recall than others. Thirty-four days will give Nemesis’ human crew a decent amount of R AND R too. Okay, make the necessary arrangements to redeploy those twenty-five hundred fighters. Once those orders have gone out, you and your crew can go on leave for five weeks. I want you back here on the tenth of next month. Any questions, Shiloh?”
“No, Admiral.”
“Then you’re both dismissed,” said Howard with a wave of his cigar.
Shiloh looked at Kelly whose expression reflected her surprise at not being asked if she had any questions. After leaving Howard’s office, Shiloh leaned over and said in a low voice, “I think from now on I should see him alone unless he specifically asks for you.” Kelly nodded, but said nothing.
It didn’t take long to brief Paladin on the re-deployment project. Paladin would stay on board Nemesis even though the ship would remain in a parking orbit around the moon. Shiloh was confident that Paladin could handle all the organizational and logistical details of the project without him. It was with a growing sense of excitement that he and Kelly left the Space Force HQ in civilian clothes to start their first leave since becoming lovers. He had several beaches in mind to show her.
. . .
ControlPrime used its mechanically-augmented strength to lift up the limp body of one of the captured humans to get a better look. Red liquid was oozing from multiple cuts, and the creature was making a pitiful sound that reminded ControlPrime of the annoying sounds made by pre-adult insectoids. The interrogations had apparently reached the limit of their potential. All the humans were either dead or in such damaged physical shape that they soon would be. In any case, ControlPrime had learned what he needed to know. The human ship, which had intercepted the Grand Hive ship and dropped off the Heimdall AI in the other spiral arm in the past, had now returned to this time. That meant that the fleet could now attack the humans without interfering in its own timeline. ControlPrime dropped the human, which suddenly stopped making any noise. It took less than a second to transmit the orders to the fleet to begin execution of the long-planned attack strategy. Eighty-nine very large ships came around to a new heading in a perfectly synchronized maneuver. As soon as the scout craft were recovered, the fleet would enter Jumpspace and head for their first target. ContolPrime had selected the extra-temporal colony the humans called TerraB, now that his subordinates had recovered that previously-unknown location from the captured human ship’s astrogational databanks.
––––––––
TerraB star system at T plus 444 days
Victoria Shiloh leaned forward to get a better look at the ship that was intended to replace the destroyed Dreadnought. At slightly over two point one million tons, it was a little bit heavier than Dreadnought, but the basic design was the same. The ship looked finished on the outside, but there was still work to be done on the inside. At least she could maneuver, jump and fight if she had to.
“Okay, Aurora, we can head for the hangar bay now,” said Shiloh.
“Fearless’s hangar bay number two is preparing to recei—massive emergence from JS, DCAG. Multiple ships. HQ has declared a Code Red.”
Even as Shiloh struggled to overcome her surprise, a small part of her awareness marveled that AIs could remain calm in what sounded like a shit-storm of trouble.
“Get me to Fearless, Aurora, and I mean NOW!” yelled Shiloh.
“Already in progress, DCAG. I assumed that you’d want to fight this battle from there. Hang on, maneuvering is going to get a little violent, DCAG.”
Shiloh was already strapped in, and she tightened her restraining harness just in time as the shuttle began to accelerate faster than the inertial dampeners could handle. Shiloh’s eyes widened at the realization of how fast she was travelling compared to the massive ship that the shuttle now seemed to be on a collision course with. She trusted Aurora’s piloting skills completely, but her senses were telling her that a crash was inevitable.
“Get me a com link to HQ!” said Shiloh as she closed her eyes.
The implant in her head suddenly activated, and she heard the telltale background noise of people communicating with urgency and panic.
“DCAG to CSO! What’s the situation?” she asked, hoping that Kawasaki was within com reach. He was.
“I’m here, Victoria. Eighty-nine ships have emerged from Jumpspace roughly half a million klicks beyond the gravity zone. They’re approaching the planet at slow speed. It’s too early to tell if they’ve launched anything. Coyote is currently in control of Fearless. I’ve ordered him to assume temporary tactical command of all orbiting assets until you arrive on Fearless’s Bridge. When you get there, you fight the battle in orbit. We’ll handle any attempted ground assault. This may be the hostile entity that Earth warned us about.”
Shiloh felt the shuttle jerk and opened her eyes to see that they were now inside the ship. “I’m aboard now, Admiral! I’ll be on the Bridge asap!”
“Very good, DCAG. I’ll shut up and let you get on with it. This channel will stay open in case you need it.”
Even as she ran for the shuttle door and jumped down to the deck, she marveled at how calm Kawasaki had been. He had spoken quickly, but at the same moderate level as he always spoke, while she had clearly let adrenaline raise her voice to a shouting volume.
“Coyote, I’m on my way to the Bridge now! Give me a quick status report on orbiting defense assets!”
“Welcome aboard, DCAG. Fearless is powering up for battle. All turrets are operational, but the Bridge is undermanned with only two AIs. Spitfire and I can maneuver and fight the ship, but not as efficiently as we would with a full AI complement. There are currently four squadrons of fighters armed with Mark 9s as CSP beyond the gravity zone. They’re spread out at four positions around the zone and are ready to micro-jump to attack range when you give the word. Another fifty-five fighters are further out in space on training exercises, with twenty-one more within the zone. Except for the CSP squadrons, none of the other fighters are carrying attack drones, DCAG.”
Shiloh shook her head as she ran down empty corridors. Normally, fighters would be recovered by their carrier, re-armed with Mark 9s, and re-launched, but Fearless didn’t have any Mark 9s on board, because she wasn’t officially operational yet. Landing on the planet to be re-armed would take too long. Against 89 ships of unknown size and strength, she had 32 fighters armed with Mark 9s, plus another 76 fighters armed only with their onboard lasers and GLB cannon, and those had to be used at relatively close range. Her gut was telling her that the odds were not in her favor. A thought suddenly occurred to her.
“Coyote! Has anyone tried to send a warning back via RTC?”
“Affirmative, DCAG. No joy. We clearly didn’t get the warning.”
“Bastards!” said Shiloh. The Friendlies were still jamming, just as they had promised. “I’m almost to the Bridge!” Coyote must have been watching her progress via video cameras. Each powered door opened for her as she reached it. She was now passing civilian workers who stood in shock as she ran by. No time to get them off the ship now!
––––––––
As she stumbled into the Bridge out of breath, she saw that the main display was showing the tactical situation. She thanked the Gods of War for that stroke of good luck. Even with Coyote’s descriptions, she’d be severely handicapped without that visual aid. A quick check of the sidebar data proved disappointing, however. The alien formation, now designated as Zulu1, was too far away to allow continuous radar tracking. Therefore the display showed the presumed location and vector based upon the initial data from the emergence detection system. In point of fact, nobody knew with any certainty where those ships were now or what they were doing.
“Okay, Coyote, I’m ready to assume tactical command of all orbiting assets. What would you recommend we do in order to get confirmation of what Zulu1 is doing now?”
“All fighters have been notified that the DCAG is in command. Since none of our fighters are carrying recon drones, I recommend that three fighters be ordered to micro-jump to within radar range and report via L-wave transmissions.”
Shiloh groaned as she realized how Space Force had blundered badly by not equipping at least some fighters with recon drones. Now she would have to order some of her cherished AIs to undertake highly risky recon missions themselves.
“Give the order, Coyote.” She quickly checked the display as Coyote acknowledged the order. “CSP 2 and 4 seem to be able to micro-jump directly at Zulu1. Is that right, Coyote?
––––––––
“Affirmative, DCAG. CSP 1 and 3 will have to make preliminary micro-jumps in order to clear the gravity zone before they can jump again to within attack range of the target.”
“Okay then, let’s get 1 and 3 to where they can jump directly at the enemy. I want all four CSP squadrons to be able to attack simultaneously. Any of the rest that need to reposition themselves for an attack jump can do so now. How long before we can expect that recon data?” As she spoke, she sat down in the Command Station chair and activated the chair’s acceleration restraint system.
“Bloodhound, Raven and Blackjack are lining up for their micro-jumps now, DCAG. Once they jump, we should have their radar report within another thirty seconds. CSP 1 and 3 are preparing to conduct their repositioning jump.”
Shiloh jumped in surprise as the display started pinging to announce a series of information updates reflecting multiple individual micro-jumps by fighters. “Turn off that damn ping!” she ordered.
“Damn ping is off, DCAG.”
Coyote’s cheeky response almost made her laugh. She recognized his attempt to lighten her mood. Letting the desperate nature of the situation affect her thinking would be counter-productive.
“We’re getting recon data now, DCAG. Tactical has been updated.”
Shiloh realized with shock that Zulu1 was accelerating at high G towards the planet and had launched over 500 small craft that were organized into groups of ten. All of those groups had taken up station escorting the larger ships.
“How big are those smaller craft?” demanded Shiloh.
“Data transmissions from all three recon fighters have ceased. Probability that they’ve been disabled or destroyed is ninety-eight point five percent. Analysis of data received indicates small craft are approximately two to three times as massive as our standard fighter, DCAG. All four CSP squadrons now have direct micro-jump capability. All other fighters have repositioned themselves too. Awaiting your order to attack, DCAG. Recommend giving the order sooner rather than later.”
“Understood. Assign targets and co-ordinate the attack for maximum effect. Execute when ready!” Shiloh realized she was holding her breath and let it out. Concentrating all her fighter strength against the larger ships was the only strategy that had any chance of working. The relatively small craft would have much less power for weapons compared to the kind of energies that a large ship could generate. TerraB’s network of ground-based GLB cannon had enough power to outrange anything those small craft could carry, but might not be able to reach the larger ships before they could fire back. That was why she had to try to disable or destroy as many of the big ships now as possible, but with each of the CSP fighters only carrying one Mark 9 attack drone, the best they could hope for was reducing the enemy fleet from 89 to 57 ships. Her fighters would have to use their onboard laser and GLB cannon against the rest at close range if they could penetrate the enemy escort formations.
“Zulu1 has jumped closer, DCAG!” Coyote’s electronic voice was about as loud and excited as she had ever heard from an AI. The enemy had timed their micro-jump to perfection. Just as her 32 fighters were about to micro-jump closer and launch their Mark 9s, the enemy had jumped right to the edge of TerraB’s gravity zone. Their cumulative velocity took them into that zone within seconds of emerging from the micro-jump. Before Shiloh could ask Coyote if the drone attack should be aborted, the 32 fighters launched their Mark 9s, which immediately micro-jumped to the edge of the gravity zone. They would have to fly through normal space the rest of the way and hope they could penetrate any anti-missile defenses. The sidebar showed a time to interception of less than five seconds. Because Fearless was deep within the gravity zone, there was a 15 second lag for any incoming data due to the distance from the edge of the zone. Shiloh understood that the tactical display was showing the estimated positions of fighters, drones and the enemy ships based on the latest data it had. When the drone icons merged with Zulu1, Shiloh held her breath waiting for confirmation that the Mark 9s had actually made it that far. After 15 seconds had passed, a text message scrolled across the bottom of the display.
[NO ATTACK DRONE DETONATIONS DETECTED]
“The Mark 9s appear to have been intercepted before reaching their targets, DCAG. I’ve ordered all fighters to micro-jump as close as they can and then attack at maximum acceleration. Recommend that Fearless break out of orbit and head for Sol.”
Before Coyote could say more, Shiloh reacted. “What? Leave the battle? NO! You can take us out of orbit, but we’re staying in this fight, God damn it!”
“Check the sidebar data, DCAG. We’re already losing fighters. The enemy’s small craft appear to have powerful and accurate beam weapons. They can outrange us, and they outnumber us. My brothers are willing to distract the enemy while Fearless retreats in order to fight another day. I calculate that TerraB cannot, repeat, cannot be saved. Earth’s Space Force will need all the carriers it can get in order to stop this alien fleet. If we don’t maneuver for a jump to Sol now, we may not be able to avoid enemy fire, DCAG.”
Shiloh shook her head violently. The thought of leaving her family, friends and the rest of TerraB’s colonists to certain death caused a physical pain in her chest that was excruciating.
“NO! I don’t care about the bigger picture! I’m not leaving my people! GET THIS SHIP INTO THE FIGHT! NOW, COYOTE, NOW!”
After the barest pause, she heard Coyote’s calm voice. “Fearless is maneuvering to engage the enemy. It has been an honor serving with you, DCAG.”
. . .
Kawasaki turned away as the icon representing Fearless broke up and faded away. All TerraB’s fighters had been destroyed too. Their only hope now rested on the massive GLB cannon that ringed the city. Zulu1 was approaching the cannons’ extreme range.
“Activate GLB units,” said Kawasaki in what he hoped was a calm, confident voice. The Ops Center staff needed that reassurance. The main display switched from the tactical view of the space surrounding the planet to a zoomed-in video image of one of the armored bunkers 34 kilometers away. The armored doors were opening, and the massive cannon was starting to rise to its firing position. Power units were already charging the capacitors. As soon as Zulu1 was within extreme range, each cannon would lock onto a target and fire. As big as the enemy ships were, the focused gravity waves should still inflict massive damage by cutting deeply into the guts of the ships.
‘Ready to fire in five...f—“ The voice was cut off by the blinding flash from the display as a laser beam that must have been 100 meters wide slashed across the cannon, which exploded. Kawasaki heard a groan and realized that he had made that sound. He quickly checked the status indicators for the other cannon. They were all showing a red LOS. Loss of signal meant they had been destroyed too. He closed his eyes and asked his ancestors for guidance.
After a few seconds, he ran over to the Communications Station. “Record this message and send it to Earth while we still can, Lieutenant.”
“Ready to record, Admiral,” said the young woman in a trembling voice as tears rolled down her face. Kawasaki put his hand on her shoulder and gave her a comforting squeeze. He began speaking.
