Into the Darkness: Crimson Worlds Refugees I (11 page)

“And Sergei?”

“Yes, Admiral?”

“If it comes to that, I need you to be discrete. Make sure the men involved are extremely reliable…and able to keep their mouths shut. No witnesses. And search Captain Harmon from his hair to the bottom of his feet. If he hangs on to some kind of com unit, all hell will break loose.” Another pause. “Understand?”

“Understood, sir.”

Chapter Six

Command Unit Gamma 9736

The old network had slowly come to life. Not all of it, not even most—but enough. The sensors swept through space, searching, watching. Data was flowing in from ancient scanning devices. For weeks the input had shown nothing, no sign of the enemy. They had disappeared, vanished into the depths of space. But now there had been contact.

It was an old scanner, ancient beyond imagining, from the days before the old ones disappeared, before Command Unit Gamma 9736 had been created. Before, even, the Regent had been activated. Indeed, the scanner dated from the early days of the Imperium, when the old ones still used primitive fusion power, as the enemy did. It circled a great gas giant, one particularly rich in tritium, the vital fuel of nuclear fusion.

It was small, low-powered, simple in design, yet after so many long ages, it still functioned. It was also stealthy, using low powered subspace communication. Probability suggested an extraordinarily small chance the enemy would have detected it from one simple communique. And Command Unit 9736 was not going to increase the risk of discovery. It sent back a single pulse, an order for the unit to shut down. No further information was necessary. The Command Unit knew all it needed to know. The enemy had paused in its flight, driven by the need to replenish its fuel stores. They were vulnerable, unable to flee until they extracted the needed fuel from the gas giant’s atmosphere. And Command Unit Gamma 9736 knew where they were. Even now, orders were being dispatched, fleets being gathered to destroy the enemy.

The Command Unit had considered its strategy carefully. Massing its fleets before attacking was the most tactically sound approach, save for one fact. Allowing more time to pass before engaging the enemy increased the chance that they would complete their refueling operation and once again escape. No, the attacks could not wait—they had to begin as soon as possible. The enemy had to be pinned in place, as many of his vessels damaged and slowed as possible.

The Command Unit ordered each force to engage as soon as it reached the system. The fleets would attack the enemy, keep them constantly fighting, slow their refueling efforts. The cost would be high in lost ships, but that was of no matter. The Regent’s orders were clear. Destroy the enemy. At all costs.

Command Unit Gamma 9736 had issued its orders. Its own determinations were of little account. The primary directive was obedience to the Regent, and that above all. Its fleets would move. They would attack, unmindful of losses. They would pin the enemy down in the system…or follow them if they fled.

AS Jaguar

System X18, Orbiting Planet X-18 V

The Fleet:  225 ships, 47,912 crew

“That looks great, Commander. You have made enormous progress in a short time. Your engineers are to be commended.” John Duke stood on
Jaguar’s
tiny bridge. The fast attack ship was a cramped affair all around, and her tiny control center was no exception.

“Thank you, Admiral. It’s delicate work, but we all understand the importance of getting the refinery up and running as quickly as possible.” Jerrold Davies’ voice sounded tinny over the com, but the engineer was remarkably composed for someone in a pressure suit hovering deep in the atmosphere of a gas giant almost as large as Jupiter. “Normally, we’d take something like this a little slower, but there’s nothing normal about things now.

Duke didn’t understand the intricacies of building a tritium and helium-3 collection refinery in the atmosphere of a massive planet, but he was pretty sure trying to do it too quickly was damned dangerous. Indeed, they had already had two fatalities on the project. But that paled next to the prospective death toll if a First Imperium force caught the fleet so low on fuel.

“I’m sure we all appreciate your efforts, Commander. Right now there is no one in the fleet who holds our fate more in hand than your engineers.” Duke was trying to give Davies a little shot in the arm. The engineer hadn’t complained, but his people had been working twelve hours in pressure suits for every six hours off. That was a grinding workload in controlled conditions, but climbing around on an open superstructure in the upper atmosphere of a gas giant it was downright reckless.
But necessary
, he thought. And every word he had said was true. Davies and his people
had
to succeed. The fleet didn’t have a chance if they didn’t succeed.

“Admiral Compton will want an estimate on when the facility will be operational.” Duke hated pressuring Davies. He knew the engineer’s progress to date had been nothing short of exceptional, especially since he was working with far less than optimal equipment and supplies. But the rest of the fleet was at a virtual standstill without the tritium Davies’ people were here to refine. And staring at the warp gate scanners and hoping no enemy ships came pouring through was hardly a strategy Compton could be expected to embrace.

“We’ve got the platform up and operating, but we’ve just started on the refining and purification units. I’d say three days, possibly four. As long as we don’t have any more setbacks.” The job had been an enormous one. Davies’ people had been compelled to build an anti-grav platform, a huge structure held aloft by a bank of heavy thrusters. Without the platform, the immense gravity of the planet would have pulled the entire construction deeper into the atmosphere, until the rapidly increasing pressure crushed it all.

“Understood, Commander.” Duke could tell the engineer was tense. Davies was one of the best, and he knew what was riding on his team’s efforts. Indeed, his own fate, and that of his crews, was inextricably tied to the survival of the fleet. Yelling and constantly reminding him of the urgency was pointless. And he suspected Davies blamed himself for the two members of his crew who had slipped off the edge of the platform as well. Duke didn’t imagine falling until the pressure crushed you like a grape was a pleasant way to die.

“I will pass your report on to Admiral Compton, Commander.”

*  *  *

“Entering warp gate in ten seconds, Captain.”

The tactical officer’s announcement was unnecessary. Captain Hans Steiner was well aware his ship was about to enter the warp gate.
Vanir
was the lead vessel of the three John Duke had assigned to explore the system they already knew would be dubbed X20. The naming convention was boring, but it was easy too, and the last thing anyone in the fleet had time for was thinking up names for new stars and planets.

“Stay on the scanners, Lieutenant. I’ll want a reading as soon as possible.” Steiner knew his own order was relatively pointless too. The warp gate would scramble his ship’s systems, and his crew had very little control over how long it took for things to come back online. A razor sharp team could shave a few seconds, maybe. But then again, in a truly dire situation, that could be the difference between victory and defeat. Life and death.

“Yes, sir. Entering warp gate…now.”

Steiner felt the strange feeling he always did in a transit, a bit of mild nausea and a flush of heat. Then he saw the stars reappear on the forward screen. A few seconds later, the main power came back on, and the ship’s systems began rebooting.

Vanir’s
captain sat quietly, waiting along with his crew for their instruments to come back to life. It always felt odd just after a transit, that minute or two when a ship was blind, helpless. Steiner realized there was nothing he could do but wait for the systems to reboot. If there were enemy ships waiting for his tiny flotilla, scanners wouldn’t do his people much good. His three ships were there to scout, not to fight. And if they ran into the enemy, their failure to return on schedule would deliver a clear message to Admiral Compton and the fleet.

“Scanners coming up now, sir.” The tactical officer was leaning over the scope, waiting for the first readings. “Raw data coming in now, sir. The AI’s online again and crunching on it.” The officer paused, reading the information as he got it. “Star classification B3 to B4. Six planets, two in possible habitable zone. Two asteroid belts, one between planets two and three, and the other at the edge of the outer system.”

Steiner listened quietly. They were there to scout thoroughly, and scans on the star and its planets were important. But he knew everyone on
Vanir
, and on
Woden
and
Tyr
as well, was interested in one bit of data first and foremost. Were there First Imperium ships waiting in X20?

“Targeted sweeps, Lieutenant. Focus on particle trails…any signs of recent ship movement.” Steiner knew he didn’t have to remind his people, but he did it anyway. It was easier than sitting silently, feeling extraneous.

“No signs of any ships, Captain. No drive emissions, no unnatural energy readings.” A pause then:  “We’re getting indications of multiple warp gates, Captain. At least five. But still no sign of enemy activity.”

Steiner sighed softly. The most dangerous part of scouting was the first few minutes, when his ships were blind and paralyzed. Now, at least, they were past that. That didn’t mean there was no danger waiting for them in X20. But their chances of surviving the scouting run had just increased dramatically.

“Set a course for the third planet, Lieutenant. A system with two habitable planets is prime real estate. Let’s see if anyone’s been here before us.”

*  *  *

“Move your asses!” Jerrold Davies clung to one of the large girders, watching as a crew installed the heavy conduits connecting the main refining unit to the portable reactor. The thick insulated cables were a tenuous way to transmit the nuclear plant’s output, but it was all he had right now. He’d cut his way through half the safeguards in the book, but he’d gotten the thing done—almost done, at least—in less time than anyone had thought possible. Though a proper inspection would have turned up a hundred violations of normal procedures.

Back home a job this ramshackle would gotten you busted down to the ranks, and here it’s as likely to make you a hero.
There’s just no time to go by the book when you’re being chased by homicidal robots…

The power unit would be self-sustaining once the refinery began producing tritium, using a portion of its own output to sustain the nuclear reaction. But for now there were huge canisters piled next to it, fuel taken from the fleet’s increasingly parlous supply. The gas was highly concentrated, and the containers were dangerous to handle. He’d be a lot happier when he could get them off the platform.

As soon as the conduits were in place, his people would do a last series of checks and fire up the reactor. If all went well, they would have an hour to do a few final tests before they activated everything and began extracting tritium from the atmosphere.

He watched his people climbing all over the platform, checking hastily assembled parts and running what few diagnostic tests time allowed. Davies had set the deadline—the refinery would commence operation at 4pm fleet time. That left less than two hours to get things finished. And working in the strange environment of the gas giant’s atmosphere wasn’t doing anything to speed things along. The gravity wasn’t too bad this high up—about 1.3g. But the ammonia clouds were a problem. Every time one blew across the platform, visibility plunged.

The radiation was also a worry. The output from the planet’s magnetic field would have been fatal to an unprotected man in less than a minute. His people’s suits shielded them, at least partially, but he still had everyone maxed out on anti-rad meds. Despite all the precautions, he knew they were all going to need full cleanses and cell rejuvs when they were done. At least none of his crews had come down with full blown radiation sickness. Yet.

The refinery was a precarious structure, hurriedly constructed, its design based not on optimal specifications but on what the fleet had available. It rocked back and forth dangerously in the planet’s powerful winds, and it drifted with the atmospheric currents. It had been difficult enough to secure basic thrusters to keep the thing up, but adding stabilizers and positioning jets to keep it steady had been out of the question. They’d picked the calmest spot they could find, away from the severe storms elsewhere in the atmosphere, and that would have to do. But calm was a relative term, and his crews faced a rough ride until the operation was complete and the facility closed up shop. Davies had everyone on safety lines, but he’d still had four fatalities since work had begun.

Normally, they’d have built an enclosed control room and installed a permanent reactor with proper safeguards. But time was more important than safety right now, and Davies was well aware that an enemy force could appear at any time. If that happened now, the fleet was as good as destroyed. The only thing that would change that prognosis was fuel, and every minute his people wasted was another sixty seconds the fleet sat nearly defenseless.

He moved slowly across the open deck, taking one last look at the three large intake fans. The refinery was a simple operation. Once activated, it would take in vast quantities of gas from the atmosphere and separate out the tritium and helium-3, both of which were vital to operating the fleet’s reactors. Helium-3 was relatively easy to find in the atmospheres of gas giants, but a planet with a good supply of both isotopes was rare. Davies knew they were fortunate to have found one so quickly, and he intended to make sure his people did their jobs to the highest standard. There were 225 ships to fuel. That was a lot of tritium and helium-3, and not a lot of time to do it. The warriors had gotten them all out of X2, but now it was the engineers’ turn. And Jerrold Davis wasn’t about to let Admiral Compton down.