Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1) (7 page)

BOOK: Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1)
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seven

 

Jonathan studied the external camera feed. The vast expanse of stars was interrupted by a black stain above that completely blotted out the purple and orange clouds of the gas giant. He could discern nothing on the moon's surface in that darkness.

The
Callaway
was drifting: he had instructed the task unit to cut thrust, and all ships were running with their navigation lights off. He wanted to go in quietly. It wasn't possible to completely hide the thermal signature of an active starship, of course, but at least they weren't blatantly broadcasting their positions.

"Pretty quiet down there," the ops officer commented. "Thermal bands are ordinary. Nothing significant on LIDAR."

"What about the anomalous thermals that attracted the attention of the
Selene
in the first place?" Jonathan asked.

"Nothing. If there was a volcano somewhere down there, it's certainly not active anymore."

As the task unit grew closer to the site of the ruins, Jonathan couldn't shake a growing sense of unease.

He activated the noise canceler on his aReal and extended the silenced area over Robert.

"Feels like a trap," he told the commander. "You think we should turn back?"

Robert pressed his lips together. "You're the captain."

"Give me your honest opinion," Jonathan said.

Robert considered for a moment. "You're doing the right thing. It's our moral obligation to search for the missing crew members. No matter our misgivings."

Jonathan exhaled in relief. Though he had no intention of turning back, it was good to hear the support from his first officer.

"How do you feel about taking an away team down there?" Jonathan asked him.

"I'll go of course," Robert said. "Though I admit to having my own reservations about the place. A giant Möbius strip discovered in the middle of nowhere on some uncharted moon. Thermals that are present one moment and gone the next. Are we still going on the theory that we're dealing with rogue SK elements?"

"No," Jonathan said. "I don't know what to think anymore." He considered his options. "When we're in range, I'll order a Dragonfly down to dispatch some Model IIs." Those were HS4s that could operate in a vacuum. "If it looks clear, I'll send you in with an entire MOTH platoon. Fair?"

"Fair."

Jonathan reversed the noise canceling. "Nav, how far are we from the ruins?"

"About thirty minutes, Captain. If we want to assume a geostationary position above the site, we should begin braking thrust fifteen minutes from now."

"Remind me in fifteen." Jonathan glanced at the second watch comm officer. "How's our communication with the rest of the task group? I don't suppose we can bounce our signals off the comm nodes by the jump Gate yet?"

Comm nodes were small communication drones whose sole purpose was to pass in and out of the Gates that facilitated transit through Slipstreams; they moved back and forth between the same two systems all day, transferring data bundles with other comm nodes. Delay-tolerant networking at its finest. Three such drones were assigned to the exit Gate of the current system.

"Negative," the comm officer said. "We can't punch through the interference from the radiation yet."

"Too bad," Jonathan said. He sat back, lifting his aReal spectacles to rub his eyes.

"Though speaking of comm nodes," the comm officer continued. "I am detecting a slight signal variance from the direction of the Gate. I believe central command is sending a message."

"It's probably not meant for us," Jonathan said. "But launch a relay drone toward the comm nodes just in case." Launching a drone wasn't strictly necessary: if the message was for them, it would be queued by the drones until the
Callaway
left the radiation belt to receive it.

"Captain," Maxwell said. "I've reconstructed some of the fragmented data from the
Selene's
holographic drive. It's a video element. Recorded by the one hundred eighty degree lightfield camera on the bridge. I believe you will find it of interest."

"Replay the log and loop in the commander," Jonathan instructed the AI. "VR mode."

Jonathan found himself standing on the bridge of the
Selene
. Captain Chopra and her bridge crew sat at the Round Table, staring into their aReals.

"Situation report, away team," Chopra said.

There was a pause as Chopra listened to the response.

Jonathan asked the AI: "Do we have the audio feed of the response?"

"No," Maxwell said.

Chopra spoke again.

"Are you certain?" She glanced at her XO. "He thinks it's an Elder vessel."

"An Elder vessel?" the young XO said. "How did Wilkins come to that conclusion?"

"He says mass spectrometry performed on the alloy gives an exact match to the hull samples collected by the Lotus Expedition."

"An Elder ship," the XO said in obvious awe.

"We're going to be famous," Chopra said. She wrapped her hand around his in a blatantly inappropriate gesture.

"Maybe there's some tech we can salvage," the XO said.

"Or some archival data," Chopra said excitedly. "Who knows, with this discovery, we might be able to solve the mystery of the Elder once and for all."

The virtual reality video abruptly cut out and Jonathan found himself on the
Callaway's
bridge once more.

"That's all I have, Captain," Maxwell said.

Jonathan glanced at Robert. "I'm not sure that was helpful."

Robert nodded. "Raised more questions than it answered."

"Elders." Jonathan shook his head.

The Elders were an extinct race believed to have once ruled that quadrant of the galaxy. A technologically advanced species credited with the creation of the vast network of Slipstreams in the region, the Elders mysteriously vanished sometime between three and eight hundred thousand years ago. Remnants of an Elder starship had been found fifty years ago in the Lotus system, some eighty-four light years from Earth, on a barren world orbiting a red giant. The wreckage was a vast, monolithic, sprawling ruin composed of a previously unknown alloy. There were no obvious engines, weapons, or other compartments common to human ships—sleeping quarters, mess halls, and so forth. There did not even appear to be any controls on said vessel: the ship was a hollow, seamless mass. And no actual bodies were recovered, either. At least, that was the official version of events.

"You think that wreckage down there actually belongs to an Elder vessel?" Robert asked the captain.

"No idea," Jonathan said. "Though the scientists aboard the
Selene
obviously did."

"Approaching deceleration range," nav reported a few minutes later.

"Begin deceleration for geosynchronous orbit above the crash site," Jonathan said. "Tactical, transmit the order to the task unit."

Fifteen minutes later the
Callaway
and the rest of the fleet had decelerated enough to assume a geostationary position above the wreckage.

Robert shifted restlessly beside the captain. "Are you sure you don't want me down there right away?"

"Positive, Commander," Jonathan said. "Let the HS4s map out the place first. Ops, launch some telemetry drones, and notify the shuttle department head I want an HS4 team deployed immediately."

A few minutes later Jonathan found himself watching the video feed from a telemetry drone as the Dragonfly departed the ship. The small craft approached the surface; the flashing navigation lights occasionally illuminated the shuttle against the dark background of the moon.

The Dragonfly was halfway to the surface when the comm officer spoke up. "Captain. The comm drone I dispatched toward Contessa Gate has returned to communications range. You were right, the communique from central command wasn't for us. However, the drone did pick up a return message for you from the admiral of Task Unit One. It's marked classified."

Jonathan thrummed his fingers on the armrest. He was tempted to send the admiral's missive directly to the archives for later viewing. Then again, since it had been dispatched shortly after the receipt of a message from central command, it might actually be something important, especially considering recent events in United Systems space.

"Send it to my aReal."

Jonathan's inbox indicator flashed.

He was about to replay the message when Ensign McNamara sat up straight in his seat.

"Captain," the ensign said urgently. "Thermal reading, five thousand kilometers off our nose. A ship."

"Is it the
Aegis
?"

"Negative," McNamara said. "The thermal configuration doesn't match any known ship in our database."

eight

 

Jonathan regarded the tactical display. A red dot had appeared above the moon's horizon, five thousand kilometers in front of the
Callaway
.

The ship had been hiding behind Achilles I, waiting for the most opportune moment to pounce. At that distance, every weapon would be within optimal firing range. Jonathan was suddenly very glad he hadn't sent down Robert in the Dragonfly.

"Tactical, how fast is the newcomer moving relative to the task unit?" Jonathan said.

"Roughly thirty thousand kilometers per hour," the tactical officer said. The aReal labeled him Lieutenant Miko.

The dashed line of the vessel's computed trajectory intersected the task unit.

Jonathan quickly ran the numbers. If he reversed course, the task unit would only remain in the potential line of fire even longer. The best action was to plow ahead, and use the approaching vessel's own momentum to put some range between them. The gravity of the moon would give them an added boost due to a slight slingshot effect.

"All ahead, emergency power!" Jonathan said. "Plot a course forty-five degrees away from the object." There was no time to retrieve either the Dragonfly or the telemetry drones.

"Course plotted," helm returned. "Ahead full emergency."

"Order the fleet to assume defense pattern bravo."

"Transmitting orders for pattern bravo," Miko said from the tactical station.

"And Maxwell, sound General Quarters goddammit!" Jonathan buttoned up his collar.

"General quarters!" The AI's voice came over the main circuit. "General quarters! All hands man your battle stations. Up and forward to starboard, down and aft to port. This is not a drill! General quarters, General quarters. Incoming vessel. Unknown origin!" A klaxon sounded five times before the message repeated.

On the tactical display, the dots representing the ships of the local flotilla began to spread apart in three dimensions, their Delta Vs countering the pull of both the moon and the gas giant.

Jonathan activated the weapon readiness display on his HUD. The long range missiles and nukes were ready to fire. Short range Vipers were charging. Mag-rail point defenses were locked and loaded.

"Are we receiving any radio signals, or any other attempts at contact?" Jonathan said.

The comm officer looked up. "No sir."

"Relay a welcome message in all known languages and communication protocols."

"Relaying," the comm officer said.

Jonathan tapped his foot impatiently. "Anything?"

"No response," the comm officer said. "Either they don't recognize that we're trying to communicate. Or they don't want to."

"Detecting a thermal buildup—" McNamara began.

The external video feed on Jonathan's aReal abruptly pixelated before returning to normal.

"I just lost the signal from all of our external telemetry drones," McNamara said. "It appears we were hit first by gamma radiation, followed by electrons traveling at relativistic speeds—an electromagnetic pulse. A concentrated, highly directional beam launched from the target ship. I registered a peak power density of seven megawatts per square meter. Hull systems are holding up."

All shipboard electronics, including the external sensors, were designed to use the entire hull as a voltage ground during an EMP event, which normally occurred when a nuke detonated in the atmosphere of a nearby planet. Unfortunately the drones, because of their small size, didn't have that ability.

"The
Aurelia
,
Dominion
, and
Maelstrom
are all reporting similar burst readings," the comm officer reported. "And we've lost communications with the Dragonfly."

"The crew's radiation exposure?" Jonathan said.

"Minimal," McNamara said. "The hull armor scattered most of the gamma rays."

"Is it possible that was an attempt at communication?" Robert said.

"Yes," Jonathan said. "An attempt to communicate their hostile intent."

McNamara stiffened. "Another ship just emerged from the cover of the moon."

Jonathan glanced at the tactical display. Sure enough, another red dot had appeared.

"This one seems to be moving away from the moon entirely. Their heading is..." Miko paused. He looked up. "It seems to be making for Contessa Gate."

On the 3D display, a dotted line extended from the second vessel, converging on the outskirts of the system right over the exit Gate.

"Either they intend to pass into United Systems territory," Robert began.

"Or they intend to destroy the Gate," Jonathan finished.

"I'm reading a thermal buildup on the second, farther ship," McNamara said.

Jonathan waited tensely.

"Active sensors are detecting a highly directional EMP pulse emanating from the second vessel," the ensign continued. "Aimed at Contessa Gate."

"Will the Gate survive?" Jonathan asked.

"Yes. But if the pulse is the same intensity as the one that hit us, the comm nodes won't. We'll lose contact with the rest of the United Systems."

Jonathan turned toward the comm officer. "Comm, can we override the command sets and order the devices through the Gate to safety?"

"We can," the officer said. "But even if we send the instructions now, our signal won't beat the directional pulse."

"Do it anyway. Have Maxwell send my command override."

"Yes, Captain."

"Detecting another thermal build-up from the nose of the closer vessel," the ensign said.

"Evacuate all crew from—" Jonathan was cut off as a bright flash emanated from the nearest ship.

"Sir, the
Dominion
!" the ensign said.

"Maxwell, track the
Dominion
," Jonathan said quietly, dreading what he would see.

The video feed updated with a zoomed-in view of the destroyer. It was split cleanly in half down the middle, lengthwise. The sight physically sickened Jonathan. He felt weak, nauseous.

He closed his eyes.

"They used some kind of particle beam weapon," the ensign said.

No time to grieve.

Jonathan forced his eyes open. "Tactical, can we use missiles at this range?"

Miko shook his head. "This close, our acceleration will cause any missiles to overshoot their target."

"If we cut thrust, can we engage starboard nozzles in time to angle our nose toward them?"

"Negative," Miko said. "We'll have slingshot far past the target by then."

The other option was mag-rails, which were meant more for point defense, or the Vipers—heavy lasers.

"What's the charge on the Vipers?"

"It's only been three minutes since general quarters," Miko said. "So thirty percent."

Jonathan stared at the 3D display. The task unit was about two thousand kilometers away from the enemy by then, their angular path giving the craft a wide berth.

"Have the remaining ships prepare to fire Vipers." That meant the
Aurelia
and
Maelstrom
, as the
Grimm
and
Selene
weren't armed. "I want full port broadsides released simultaneously across the task unit. Concentrate on the same spot. Aim for the center of mass."

"Vipers ready," Miko announced.

The enemy vessel was approaching its closest point of the flyby.

"Fire," Jonathan said.

The Viper laser generator was a massive structure housed in the center of the
Callaway
. When fired, the beam traveled down a main passageway, and mirrors deflected it toward appropriate laser turrets, where it was further focused by circular mirrors twelve meters in diameter. External shutters opened and closed in sync with the release of the beam, preventing an enemy from firing its own laser at the mirrors and destroying the generator.

At that distance, the concentrated ten laser broadside would have a spot area of one centimeter squared. At thirty percent charge, the Vipers would fire three times in pulses of one hundred nanoseconds each, with a combined intensity of over two hundred megajoules per pulse. Joined with the broadsides from the
Aurelia
and
Maelstrom
, that was enough to eat through five meters of hull material in an ordinary ship. The capacitor bank would require the next ten minutes to fully recharge, however, depending on the power draw of other systems on the reactors.

A flash filled the external camera. Jonathan hadn't actually seen the vessel fly by, but according to the tactical display, the target was quickly receding.

"Direct hit," Miko said.

"Damage assessment?"

"I'm detecting massive quantities of thermal leakage from the enemy hull," the ensign said. "Plus a good amount of debris. We hit them good. However the target is rotating its nose, apparently trying to bring their particle weapon to bear."

Jonathan had an urgent request from engineering on his aReal. He accepted.

"What is it, Stanley?"

"The reactors can't take much more of this," Stanley said. "We're going to go critical soon. We have to cut back the speed."

"Reduce speed to eighty percent," Jonathan told the helm.

"You'll have to cut it back to sixty in another ten minutes," Stanley said.

"I'll inform the helm to keep a watch on reactor temperatures," Jonathan said. He terminated the call. "Did you get that, helm?"

"I did, Captain," the helmsman responded.

The task unit continued around the moon, with the lagging
Grimm
taking up the rear. The distance between the flotilla and the enemy widened by the second.

"Target is continuing to turn around," Miko said. "They're decelerating now, too."

"Helm!" Jonathan said. "Get us behind that moon."

In a few moments the enemy ship passed beyond sight, hidden by the moon.

Ahead, the gas giant had emerged from behind the dark mass of the celestial object.

"Nav, plot a course for the giant," Jonathan said. "Use the gravity well to slingshot us away from the pursuer. Tactical, relay the course to the unit. Comm, launch a relay drone and inform the admiral of our current predicament."

Twenty minutes passed. The red dots representing the two enemy vessels had frozen when the
Callaway
passed beyond the moon's horizon. The gas giant lay directly above them, growing closer by the minute as the task unit attempted its slingshot maneuver. The bridge began to shudder slightly as the conflicting forces acting upon the ship vied for dominance—inertia, gravity, and thrust.

Jonathan switched to the forward camera. He saw the haze of the horizon in the distance, just below the vast, round sphere that was the giant. He enlarged the feed to take up the entirety of his aReal.

The stars seemed so alone there, floating below that horizon. Alone, and free.

The beautiful sight calmed him somewhat, reminding him of a view from another lifetime, near the summit of a mountain.

The wreckage of the
Dominion
came to his mind's eye. Over eight hundred crew and two hundred civilians had been aboard.

He heard Famina's voice in his head.
Why won't anyone help me?

"Pursuing vessel has crested Achilles I," the ensign announced. "But the farther ship's position is still concealed by the moon."

Jonathan switched to the rear camera and tracked the target, zooming in. The enemy ship was visible, thanks to the light from the distant star. With its dagger-like shape, the incoming object bore a vague resemblance to a United Systems corvette, though it seemed slightly more streamlined, with a smooth hull completely devoid of superstructures and polished to a mirrorlike sheen. At two kilometers in length and seven hundred and fifty meters at the beam, it was the size of a United Systems capital ship. Jonathan zoomed in further and began to lose optical clarity. Still, he thought he could see the small, dark gashes where the Vipers had ripped into the hull. It was his imagination of course, as any tears would only be a centimeter in thickness.

"How much range have we put between ourselves and the ship?" Jonathan said.

"Forty thousand kilometers," Miko answered. "Though the target is closing that gap."

"If we launched rear kinetic kill missiles," Jonathan said. "Will the weapons make the target?"

Miko was quiet a moment. "I believe so. But just barely. The Delta-V requirements necessary to transit into the higher orbits of the gas giant will cause the missiles to exhaust all propellant shortly before arrival."

"What about a nuke?" Jonathan asked.

"Even worse. Because of the extra weight, we'll only be able to get a nuke out to about halfway."

"Fighters?"

"Same issue." Miko seemed determined to deliver bad news. "We send any squadrons out there, they're liable to exhaust their propellant sometime before or after reaching the target. And the controls will be extremely sluggish—they'll have a hell of a time dodging that particle beam. Either way, they won't be coming home."

BOOK: Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1)
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