New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1) (24 page)

“What’s happened?” he asked instead.

“We received word from the taskforce. It was a point-to-point com drone from the
New York.
Admiral Wilton personally did the emergency brief,” Pike said, handing Marcum a hardcopy sheet of the summary. He read through the two-paged brief twice, his pallor matching that of Pike’s as he did so. It was an utter disaster, and not the type that came from bad decisions in the field or poor operational planning … the type that put people in prison for a long, long time. He couldn’t even think about what consequences he might face as he read through the list of ships still missing.

“Fuck me,” he said, swallowing hard. “Okay, Pike … give me a complete brief, everything you have. Then we have to go back down to the surface. The President will need to be informed of this as soon as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” Pike nodded and began bringing up information on the briefing room’s large wall monitors. The agent did most of the talking, acting as an aggregator while funneling in information from the other intelligence specialists in the room as needed. The picture he painted was bleak. Wilton’s taskforce flew right into what was apparently a very elaborate trap by the Darshik and, to make things just a bit worse, the admiral clearly suspected that the Ushin were directly responsible. Marcum hoped there were just issues with the translation in that regard, but he couldn’t deny that if the Darshik set a specific trap for the Terran taskforce
someone
had to tell them they were coming.

“So far that’s all we know,” Pike said, wrapping up his report. “The information from Wilton wasn’t as inclusive as it could have been because the
New York
was covering the withdrawal of the Forth Fleet destroyers and she was taking fire. The Seventh Fleet destroyer,
Atlas
, is likely lost. The
Icarus
was deep down in the system and Senior Captain Wright reported that she was going to try and draw the enemy further down to allow the
New York
and the destroyer
Hyperion
to hit the jump point.

“Admiral Wilton stuck to the plan with the opening salvos coming from his heavy-missile cruisers, but then he had the foresight to send them back through the Juwel jump point once they’d spent their payload. This actually could have been much worse given the fact you cut back the size of the taskforce being deployed and Admiral Wilton was able to save the bulk of his fleet.”

“Saving most of the taskforce was indeed a stroke of luck thanks to Wilton’s competent command.” Marcum nodded slowly. “But this wasn’t just a trap to destroy a bunch of Terran ships for the sake of it; they were trying to reduce our forces significantly in one decisive action before we could even figure out what the hell was going on. This sort of gambit can only be followed by one thing.”  

“That being, sir?” an analyst asked.

“An invasion.” Marcum tossed the pages he’d been nervously rolling up back onto the table. “Call your boss, Pike. We need to be on top of this as fast as we can.”

“Yes, sir.” Pike nodded and went to one of the secure com terminals.

****

Pike didn’t see any further use in antagonizing Admiral Marcum. Everything he’d said about the man to his face still held true, but he was still the CENTCOM Chief of Staff and the highest ranking military officer in the Federation. That alone accorded him a certain amount of respect and they would all need to work together now that the mission had changed from a simple routing out of an occupying force to protecting Fed planets along the Ushin/Darshik frontier.

There was also the fact that Pike himself had known about the plan to use Starfleet to expand the Federation’s territory by assisting the Ushin militarily. Granted it was ill-gotten knowledge and he’d had nobody to report it to as the Federation’s bureaucracy got its feet under it, but that did nothing to assuage the guilt he felt as Celesta’s ship was currently unaccounted for and had last been spotted deep in a system completely blanketed by the enemy.

It wasn’t his place to question what the elected leadership did, or didn’t do, when it came to the application of force to secure a political goal, and he had to admit that at the time it seemed like a decent trade-off. The Fleet flies in, kicks a weak holding force out of two systems, humanity gets their two dozen or so planets, and there’s even the feel-good story of freeing new allies from evil invaders. It was the sort of stark morality tale that played well in the press and to the public, the vast majority who had never even been to orbit or seen a starship in person. To them it was always something happening so very far away, but Pike knew how meaningless the distances were from watching the Phage crawl across the Frontier, wiping out planets at will.

Everyone involved in the Ushin deal should have seen clearly they were being manipulated. Events had happened too quickly and too conveniently, hindsight being what it is, and now it seemed they might be inextricably mired in a situation they were not prepared for. That excuse held water when the Phage had appeared out of nowhere and begun razing planets, but to have it happen this soon afterwards didn’t give Pike a lot of hope for the species.

“What the hell’s going on?” The voice almost startled Pike as he rounded the corner heading for the docking-arm complex.

“What do you mean?” he asked innocently.

“We’re getting back-channel rumors that the taskforce we just deployed was wiped out,” Amiri Essa whispered. “What the—”

“Lieutenant Commander, I would suggest you forget anything you’ve heard regarding any deployed Fleet ships for the time being,” Pike said, all traces of his usual sardonic humor gone. “I’m not kidding. The shit is about to hit the turbine, and it’s a
lot
of shit. I’d hate to see you get splattered with any of it.”

“I guess that’s all the confirmation I need,” Essa said. “How about you, Agent? You going to stay squeaky clean as usual?”

“Amiri,” Pike began in exasperation.

“Got it.” Essa held his hands up. “Just watch your back, Pike.”

“Always.”

The
Icarus
shuddered back into real-space in what seemed like the middle of nowhere. The navigational data provided by the CIS assets had put them just inside the heliopause of the target system, and at that range the primary star wasn’t much brighter than some of its nearest neighbors.

“Position confirmed, ma’am. We’re as far out as we can get and still be considered in the star system,” the chief at Nav reported.

“OPS and Tactical, begin full spectrum passive scans immediately,” Celesta said. “We are under strict emission security protocols, everybody. I don’t want a damn thing that has a direct connection to an antenna even powered up except for the passive detection systems. OPS will coordinate all requests through CIC, but for now just assume that your equipment is on that list and tell your backshops to sit on their hands.”

“We’re already receiving a lot of thermal and RF energy that indicates a heavy presence down there,” Adler said. “Can you confirm, OPS?”

“Confirmed,” Accari said. “CIC is processing the initial returns and building a profile of probable ship placements based on what we know about this system.”

“Which is next to nothing.” Barrett frowned. “Ma’am, would you rather I go down to CIC to help them chew through the incoming data?”

“You’re not trained as an analyst, Commander,” Celesta chided him gently. “I need you up here, XO. Nav, I want you to plot me a reciprocal course to utilize this jump point as our egress. OPS, tell Engineering I want the engines prepped for a quick start, but keep them cold for now. Let’s just be a hole in space for a bit and see what we see.”

There had been some argument among her senior staff when she’d informed them they had hit the Epsilon jump point for a reason other than escape. She intended to complete the reconnaissance of the second star system the Ushin had tried to lead them to in order to get some answers CENTCOM would likely need about the entire debacle.

From the nav data the CIS had provided, she had decided to transition in as far away as she could and stay cold for as long as possible. The
Icarus
wasn’t a Prowler and the destroyer didn’t run very cold when she was underway. She had again cursed the bad luck of losing the damn RDS pod, something that would have allowed them to get in close with minimal risk of detection, and had her people working on a practical plan to allow them to capture the much-needed intel without risking the ship. While it was true they needed to know as much about the Darshik, and apparently the Ushin, as possible, she wasn’t about to risk the
Icarus
or her crew doing something foolish like trying to play spy with a mainline warship.

“Maintaining general quarters; we need to rotate watches soon,” Celesta said to her XO. “We may have come in undetected or they could be sending an intercept for us right now. With the passives it’s just too difficult to tell. Either way we need to rest the crew.”

“I’ll handle it, Captain,” Barrett assured her. Celesta nodded her thanks and went back to staring at the threat board as the tactical computer struggled to identify anything from the small bit of light and radiation captured by the passive array. She needed to come up with something drastic or the entire trip would have been for nothing. With one final look around the bridge, she handed over command to her executive officer and went for a quick meal in the wardroom, hoping against hope that the passive scans would turn up something interesting over the next few hours.

****

“We’re sure about this?” Celesta could hardly believe what she was being told.

“This is the one thing in this system the tactical computer has a
very
specific model for,” Lieutenant Commander Adler nodded. “There’s a Phage Super Alpha sitting down in that system.”

The Super Alpha was the first type of combat unit the Phage had sent against humans in the first probes before the war cranked up in earnest. Although it was still connected to the hive, or the “core mind,” it had a much larger neural mass than the standard Alphas and a bigger profile. Their shapes were all somewhat irregular due to the growing process the Phage used when producing them, but the sheer mass and rough shape wouldn’t have been something the computer would have mistaken for something else. The thermal signature of the object was also an identical match for a Super Alpha that wasn’t trying to hide. With a ninety-seven-percent probability the computer had picked up on one of the Phage’s most devastating combat units sitting down in a Darshik star system.

“Let’s look at this logically,” Barrett said. “We knew that there were Phage combat units still floating through space after we killed the core mind, essentially alive but without direction. Is this thing maneuvering or showing any other signs of activity?”

“Negative, sir,” Adler said. “It’s in a high, stable orbit over the third planet and appears to have a lot of unidentified ship traffic around it.”

“Not to get off subject,” Lieutenant Commander Washburn said, actually raising her hand, “but the third planet is most definitely inhabited and shows signs of an advanced society. EM radiation is about what we’d expect from one of our more heavily populated planets, and we’ve detected lit cities on the dark side.”

“Let’s talk about that for a moment and then come back to the Phage ship,” Celesta said. “This system’s location was supplied to us by the Ushin. Given that we’re assuming the last, uninhabited system was a trap, what do we think this is?”

“We know there’s a connection between the Phage and the Darshik from our initial intel brief, ma’am,” Accari said. He was the most junior officer in the room, which raised a few eyebrows, but Celesta knew that he sometimes saw things the others missed. “Our mission profile stated we were to come here second, but if we assume we weren’t meant to survive the trap set in the Tango System, I think the most likely conclusion is that the knowledge of this system was either mistakenly given or they wanted another Terran force to make its way out here when we didn’t make it back home.”

“Without even a rough psychological profile of the Ushin from CIS, Fleet R&S, or the Fed diplomatic corps, I think trying to guess the Ushin intent with that degree of accuracy may be a waste of time,” Celesta said. “Let’s just operate under the assumption we were fed this location on purpose, and when we get here it just so happens to have one of the combat units that killed millions of people from an enemy that almost wiped out the species.”

“If we lend credence to the theory that the Darshik were changed by their encounter with the Phage—that they began to deify it—that could be our answer,” Barrett said. “Maybe we were brought as a sacrifice.”

“That’s wildly primitive thinking for a species that has interstellar travel capabilities,” Celesta said, controlling the urge to roll her eyes. “But you could tell me they brought us here as cattle stock to feed the masses and I wouldn’t be able to refute your theory. Let’s keep this conversation to what we do know.”

“So far that’s very little,” Washburn said. “The passives at this range will need a lot of time focused on a single spot to begin getting a detailed picture.”

“Then I think the obvious spot would be that Super Alpha.” Celesta stood up, in turn causing all her staff to leap to their feet too. “Keep the sensors trained on that spot and begin getting me a picture of what in the hell is going on down there. Lieutenant Commander Adler, I’d like you to turn over that task to CIC. I need you doing your primary job and protecting the ship. You’re authorized to bring the redundant passive array online to scan local space and make sure nobody sneaks up on us again.”

“Should we deploy the gravimetric detection system?” Adler asked, referring to the six small autonomous drones that could form a laser grid that detected minute changes in gravity, alerting them that something with mass was moving close to them.

“I’ll keep that option open, but not right now,” Celesta shook her head. “The system broadcasts a constant telemetry signal to the ship that will alert them that
somebody
has snuck into their system. We’re still going to maintain strict emission protocols for the time being.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Adler nodded.

“Lieutenant Commander Washburn,” Celesta continued. “After you get the CIC settled and collecting every scrap of intelligence that comes from that planet, I want you working on some outside-the-box ideas to get us a better look down there. You’re free to pull in other departments as you see fit. If nobody has anything else? Dismissed.”

They all filed out of the conference room and back to their duty stations, while Celesta leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes for a moment. The stress of the situation was building and she had to admit that she was not only scared beyond belief but had no idea what to do next. She briefly wished for a moment that the ship she was sitting on was the
Ares
and she was still the XO … but then she remembered what Captain Wolfe had told her about all those insane situations they’d flown into during the war.

After his retirement, as his last bit of advice to his former XO, he said that he’d been scared shitless during at least eighty percent of the combat hours his ships had logged. Despite appearing cool, calm, and relentless he was quaking in his boots, but he knew that if they were to have any chance of making it through then the crew couldn’t know that. The ship could only have one captain and any perceived weakness on the bridge invited debate and insolence in the crew. He’d compared a starship crew to a pack of dogs, and while his metaphor had been crude, it was apt: There could be only one alpha, and if she wasn’t it someone would challenge her for it in situations like they found themselves in now.

With strengthened resolve, she walked out of the conference room and back towards the bridge. She’d find a way to get the
Icarus
back home safely and bring CENTCOM any intel she could glean in the process that would help in what was looking like an inevitable war.

****

“Good morning, Cube,” Jackson said as he walked in. The other technicians and researchers were already getting up and preparing to leave the room since recently any time the director came down to talk to the research subject it was always of a highly classified nature. “Thanks, everybody.” Jackson nodded to his people.

“What would you like to discuss today?” Cube asked after the hatch to the cargo hold clanged shut.

“I want to expand on our previous talks about the species that calls themselves the Darshik,” Jackson said, rolling a chair over to where he could see the lit terminal on the Vruahn machine and sitting down. “In light of recent events I’d like to move away from the more abstract information in your database and see if you can’t dig up something a little more practical.”

“The Darshik have moved against you. I warned you of this.”

“You said that they were militaristic,” Jackson corrected. “As far as we knew the Darshik only knew of us through their connection with the Ushin. The Phage connection was just a theory of yours.”

“What’s happened, exactly?” Cube asked. Jackson pursed his lips and thought hard about what he was about to say next. The news of Starfleet’s engagement against the Darshik-held worlds, and what appeared to have been a disastrous ambush, was highly classified. He didn’t think telling an alien machine would be the wisest thing to do, but the rub was that out of every intelligent being in Terran space the Cube was the only one that had ever even heard of either species.

“Fleet sent a taskforce out to two systems the Ushin claimed were theirs and the Darshik were occupying.” Jackson decided to go for broke. “The first system ended up being an overly elaborate trap that only dumb luck allowed most of our ships to escape from. I need to know if we can expect some sort of retaliatory strike or if you can provide any context as to why the Ushin would apparently help the Darshik.”

“I have told you everything my memory holds on both species,” Cube said simply.

“But you and I both know that sometimes different lines of thought will jar loose some facts in there you may have failed to mention the first time I asked,” Jackson said.

“Your tone of voice and body language implies you think I deliberately withhold information from you.”

“The thought has crossed my mind,” Jackson said. “Come on. Give me something useful.”

The panel on the Cube went dark and it fell silent. Jackson was used to these gaps in the conversations, some lasting as long as thirty minutes. He attributed it to either lingering effects of the accident that had formed the Cube’s intelligence or, more likely, pouting, as they always seemed to happen when he was pressing or implying that he didn’t believe it.

“The probability is strong that the Darshik will come,” it said finally. “It is their way, although that wasn’t always the case. Their interaction with the Phage at an early stage in their societal development may have caused this—”

“It couldn’t have been that early if they already had interstellar flight capability,” Jackson interrupted.

“The Darshik did not develop their interstellar travel technology,” Cube said.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Jackson muttered. “So where did they get it?”

“The species you call the Ushin provided the technology that the Darshik have then modified on their own.”

“That’s a pretty damn important thing to leave out, isn’t it?!” Jackson strained to keep his temper in check. Explosions usually resulted in the Cube going dark for a few days. “Please tell me exactly what you mean by that.”