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Authors: Doug Farren

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BOOK: Chroniech!
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Four minutes after he had initiated battle stations, the XO reported from combat control that the ship was ready. Ken was very satisfied — four minutes was a good time. "Communications, any contact with Mintaka?"

"No sir. All channels are clear with the exception of standard telemetry data from probe one."

Ken had almost forgotten about the probe, since it had yet to report anything. Being that it still had nothing to report, he promptly put it out of his mind. Instead, he concentrated upon the situation at hand. Stricklen had decided to put the ship at battle stations because there was a very real possibility that if Mintaka had been attacked, the attackers could still be in the area.

As the
Komodo Dragon
plunged deeper into the planetary system's gravity well, it slowed ever more quickly. The ship's detectors were flung out to their maximum range looking for anything that could become a threat. Ken watched the numerous displays showing the Kauffman stardrive's power usage and the relative amount of spacial warp that the drive had to contend with as they both approached critical values. Eventually, a point was reached where the ship could no longer maintain the complex stardrive fields.

A single tone sounded throughout the ship followed by the voice of the helmsman. "FTL dropout in fifteen seconds," he calmly announced. The seconds ticked by, then a minor flurry of activity occurred on the bridge.

"Disengaging stardrive — sublight engines on-line — drive field synchronization in progress" the helm announced. "We made break-out at 8.64 mega-klics from Mintaka. Correcting for intra-system intrinsic velocity differential and setting course for Mintaka at max acceleration."

"Defense shield up and stable," the tactical station reported. "All weapon systems fully charged and ready."

"Initiating sweep of the system," the XO reported from his station in CIC. "No targets identified at this time."

"Very well," Stricklen replied. "Coms, I want continuous attempts to contact Mintaka on all channels. Also, send out a general call to see if there might have been any miners out in the system doing surveys. Let me know the moment you hear anything. Helm, what's our ETA?"

"ETA about 1.4 hours at max acceleration. We should be within detail scan range of the planet in about forty minutes," came the near instant reply.

Stricklen pushed a button on his console which opened a channel to Doug Scarboro in combat control. Once the connection had been established, Ken said, "Doug, as soon as you can, I want a series of probes sent out to perform a detailed search of the planet. Mintaka is a mining world and there may have been several geological expeditions away from the primary mining sites at the time of the attack. If there are survivors, they could be anywhere on the planet."

"I take it you are assuming they were attacked?" Doug asked.

"I am working under that assumption until proven otherwise. Use the probes to scan the surface and keep our main detectors watching our back."

"Yes sir," Scarboro replied and the connection snapped.

Ken was on his third cup of coffee when the first direct detailed scan of the main mining site came in. Doug's face appeared on one of the numerous miniature monitors on the captain's console. "First scan is in sir — you were right, they were attacked. I'll send the pictures up to the bridge."

The main monitor switched from a tactical display to a highly enhanced view of what used to be a mining town. Where over 3,600 people had once lived and worked there now existed a landscape pockmarked with craters and ruined land. Large scars from energy weapons were visible and, according to the false color image, several areas still had higher than normal temperatures. It was impossible to tell if any man-made structures had ever existed.

Ken slammed his fist on the armrest of his chair. "Who the hell would attack an unarmed mining site on a worthless planet?" he said in a low steady voice to no one in particular. "What about the other mines Doug?"

"This picture is a computer generated image based upon long-range scans made from the ship. We were lucky in that the main mining site was on the side of the planet facing us when we came within range. As soon as the other sites are visible to our scanners I will be able to answer your question."

"Where are the probes?"

"Twenty probes with search capability were launched about ten minutes ago," Doug replied. They will be within scanning range in about fifteen minutes."

As the
Dragon
continued to approach Mintaka, the continuing search revealed nothing but destruction. Each mining site had been blasted into oblivion. When the probes reached the planet, they sent back detailed views of the destruction. In all his years in the Alliance military, Ken had never seen such complete and total devastation. As time slowly trickled by, their hopes of locating any survivors sank lower and lower.

"Captain," the communication station announced. "Report coming in from probe one. The source of the gravitational anomaly has been found. It's a ship sir!"

Taking his eyes off the view of yet another a destroyed mining site, Ken turned to the communications station and asked, "What kind of ship?"

The communications operator punched in a command on his console and the main viewer shifted to show a spacecraft of a type unknown to Ken. One side of the screen displayed the ship's statistics. Length — 850 meters; Width — 280 meters; Height — 160 meters; Type — unknown; Origin — unknown. The ship was slowly rotating as if it had lost stability control. As Ken watched, a badly damaged area came into view.

"Do we have any additional data on the ship?" Stricklen asked.

"Yes sir," the tactical station replied. It was this station's job to analyze all externally gathered tactical data, including that obtained from remote probes. "The computer has been analyzing it."

Ken touched a button and spoke, "Dragon, identify the ship that is currently being scanned by probe one."

A soft, almost boyish sounding voice replied, "The ship is of an unknown configuration. No match in the Alliance ship registry can be found. It is drifting in space and appears to have no operational propulsion system. At least one power source is known to be operating within the ship. Microstructure analysis indicates the ship has been adrift for several thousand years. A more accurate determination of its age will become available after all data has been received. The ship has been preliminarily classified as a cargo vessel similar to an Alliance heavy cargo carrier. Additional information will have to wait until the probe data can be further analyzed."

"A thousand year old derelict with something still operating onboard?" exclaimed the captain. "Another damn mystery! I hate mysteries."

"Captain!" yelled the communicator. "A signal has been detected from the planet — possibly a survivor!"

Stricklen forgot about the probe and its mystery ship. "On speaker!" he almost shouted out the order.

A loud static-filled hiss issued from the speakers. The crackles and pops indicated extreme amplification. After a few seconds a faint voice was heard. "… ee nothing. What ab … " The entire bridge crew burst into cheers of joy.

"Quiet!" Stricklen yelled out. "Can you get a fix on the source of that signal?"

The communicator turned to his console and spoke softly to the computer. After listening to the reply he announced, "Probe 9 picked it up sir. Computer estimates the signal to originate about 300 klics Southwest of the OM-3 mining area. The probe is continuing to close in on the signal's location. Probe 5 is being redirected to assist in triangulating their exact location."

The static continued for a moment, then — "The rover has … CRACKLE-POP-POP … ay supply. Unless … POP-HISS … or we're screwed." The signal was getting stronger and clearer as the probe homed in on it.

"Wilks," Stricklen called the communicator by name. "Can you route a transmission through the probe on the same frequency the survivor is using?"

"Yes sir! Just one moment… Ready on com channel three."

The captain selected com channel three and said, "This is Captain Ken Stricklen of the Alliance heavy-cruiser
Komodo Dragon
. We are about to orbit Mintaka. If you receive this signal please reply."

There was a moment of silence then a clear voice said, "Frank, did you pick that up?"

This time another very faint voice could be heard. "Yeah — better answer them. Even if they are the enemy we're going to run out of air in a few hours anyway so what the hell."

"Hey!" said the first voice. "This is Brian O'Niel and I read ya loud and clear. We received a message that the town was under attack and then all contact was lost. What happened?"

Stricklen decided not to tell them that their home and families had been wiped out. That job would be left to the ship's psychologist. Instead, he replied, "We are still investigating. How many people are in your party?"

"Myself and three others. We're running short of air and supplies. How soon can you get us out-a-here."

"We should have a shuttle there to pick you up in under an hour," Stricklen replied. "If you have an emergency beacon, turn it on and we will home in on it."

"We have a beacon," came the reply. "As soon as I make my way back to the crawler I'll dig it out and turn it on. Captain," Brian said in a more serious tone. "Don't give me no political or psychological bull. The town's gone isn't it?"

Ken glanced up from his console and noted several of the bridge crew looking at him.
These are miners,
he thought.
They're a tough breed and, as men, they deserve an honest answer to an honest question.

"Mr. O'Niel," Ken said. "As far as we know, you and your men are the only survivors. Do you have any information as to who attacked you?"

A long silence was eventually broken by Brian's subdued reply. "No — the only transmission we received told us that the town was under attack and that we should make ourselves scarce." After another moment of silence, "Thank you for being honest with us captain."

"Welcome. Sit tight. A shuttle will be there as soon as possible.
Komodo Dragon
out."

Ken leaned back in his chair for a moment then put in a call to the ship's psychologist. Tasharra Harper stemmed from a family with deep roots in Kentucky. The 37 year old had been assigned to the cruiser eight months ago. Her short cut brunette hair and greenish eyes gave her a pleasant, if average, look. She always seemed to have an optimistic outlook and Ken had taken an immediate liking to her. "How can I help you captain?" she asked as soon as she saw who had called her.

"We're picking up four survivors from Mintaka," he said. "I thought you might want to greet them when the shuttle gets back aboard. Nobody else is alive down there."

Tasha nodded her head in understanding and replied, "I understand captain. I'll be there."

Ken thanked her and cut the link.

The search of the remainder of the planet took just over 18 hours. Only the four initial survivors were found. The remaining 4,628 men, women, and children were listed as killed by the actions of an unknown enemy. The destruction had been so complete that no records or other means of identifying who may have attacked the outpost could be found.

As the last probe was being brought aboard the
Dragon
, the ship prepared to leave. "Preparations for departure are complete," the XO reported. "An HK has been programmed and is ready for launch."

The HK was a hunter-killer probe which Stricklen had decided to leave behind. This device would be placed into a passive orbit where it would wait and watch to see if the enemy made another appearance. If they did, it would report that fact and any other information it could gather concerning the attackers to the
Dragon
.

HK's were specifically designed to remain undetected. They were invisible to most direct scanning devices and heavy shielding reduced their electromagnetic emanations to virtually undetectable levels. There was the possibility that the attackers had left a similar probe in the area and was even now watching their every move.

If an enemy ship did decide to return to the scene of the crime, the HK could be switched to kill mode and attempt to destroy the enemy ship. The HK was armed with a ten megaton thermonuclear warhead for this purpose.

"Deploy the HK," Stricklen ordered. "Helm, set course for the location of probe one. Coms, inform sector command that we have recovered four survivors from Mintaka. Send them a copy of our planetary scans and tell them we will be investigating an apparent derelict prior to returning to Almaranus."

Stricklen consulted his computer screen then activated the ship-wide address system. "Attention all hands. We are leaving Mintaka after recovering four survivors of a brutal attack on the mining colony there. Cancel battle stations and return to normal watch rotation. Commander Billings please report to the bridge. All command staff report to the conference room in ten minutes."

Stricklen turned the bridge over to Commander Billings and headed for the conference room. While the probes had been completing their search of Mintaka, he had been periodically reviewing the data from the derelict ship. The information disturbed him. Normally he would have left the investigation of such a discovery to a better equipped science and salvage ship, but the information returned from the probe had caused him to rethink this philosophy. As a precaution he had instructed that all information concerning the derelict be classified.

On his way to the conference room, Ken used his wrist-com to call the ship's psychologist. "How are our guests holding up Tasha?" he asked once the connection had been made.

"They're doing fine," replied the tiny voice from his earpiece. "It would be nice if we could find something for these men to do. They're not used to just sitting around and they need to feel useful. With your permission, I'll look into their backgrounds to see if we can't give them something to keep them busy on the way back."

Ken trusted Tasharra's judgment in this matter. She was, after all, the ship's psychologist.

BOOK: Chroniech!
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