New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1) (25 page)

“I am sorry, Director Wolfe,” it said. “My files only included summary information regarding the surrounding species in the area that you might have encountered in the final stages of the war. I often have trouble connecting individual and separate facts together into a coherent line of thought. I apologize.”

“No need to apologize,” Jackson said with a sigh. “We’re doing the best we can. Let’s take it from the top and try to piece something together that Fleet can use. If the information I have is accurate, the Darshik may already be heading to any Terran worlds they’re aware of.”

“I will do my best,” Cube said.

“Commander Graham, may I have a word with you?”

“Lieutenant Commander … Washburn, isn’t it?” Graham said, wiping his hands on his utilities. “You work in CIC?”

“Yes, sir,” Washburn said.

“What can I do for you?” Graham seemed distracted and busy, but Washburn needed his expertise and advise before presenting her idea to the captain.

“Captain Wright has tasked me with finding a way to get more direct intel from the Darshik planet in this system without risking the
Icarus
,” she said. “I have one I think has promise, but it will require some modification to a Jacobson drone and one of our com drones.”

“Intriguing,” Graham said, pushing aside his tile and giving her his undivided attention. “The Jacobson makes sense, but why do you need a com drone?”

“I don’t think the captain is going to want to risk having the
Icarus
waiting around to receive the broadcast from the drone, verify it, and then try to accelerate to transition velocity while only having the passive sensors to detect incoming threats,” Washburn said as she followed along after Graham motioned to her with his free hand.

“My thought is to program a com drone to listen as the Jacobson relays the data it collects in a single burst, then transition out of the system to get the data to New Sierra,” she continued. “Actually, the intel would beat us back by more than a week.”

“Two problems I see right away,” Graham said as he ushered her into his office and out of the noisy engineering bay. “We have no more point-to-point drones left aboard, and the standard com drone doesn’t have the fuel to make it from here to the DeLonges System. The best we could hope for is that, barring any interstellar obstacles, it makes it back to the Juwel System and relays the data through the standard network.

“Second, the com drones aren’t designed with this sort of tasking in mind. While it has the requisite receive and transmit hardware, it doesn’t have the computational power to set it adrift with the sort of intricate programming it would take.”

“So … back to square one?” Washburn looked crestfallen.

“No problems are insurmountable, Lieutenant Commander,” Graham smiled. “Just difficult. I think the idea is solid, but we’ll need to bring more people into the loop before presenting this to the captain. Commander Severn down in Flight OPS will need to be included as soon as you can manage it. We’ll need to coordinate between his department and mine to see if a drone can be modified to do what you want it to. The Jacobson is no issue … those little beauties are so flexible it won’t take but twenty minutes to program it for the mission.”

“I’ll get everybody moving right now, sir.” Washburn was already standing up. “Captain Wright won’t want to be sitting in this system any longer than she has to.”

“We’re agreed there,” Graham nodded his head. “She won’t risk this ship for something that can be obtained by the CIS later as a worst-case scenario. I’m putting myself at your disposal, Lieutenant Commander.”

“Thank you, sir,” Washburn said, already through the hatchway.

****

“How quickly can this be accomplished and what percentage do you give it for success?” Celesta asked, clearly skeptical.

  “Two days with all hands on deck.” Commander Graham shrugged. “After that, the whole thing is fairly straight forward. I’d say we have better than an eighty percent chance that it goes off as planned.”

“What we can’t account for, however, is the Darshik reaction,” Washburn said. “We’re assuming they’ll be so disoriented and surprised that we’ll be able to slip back out of the system, but that’s just my best guess. I feel I’d be negligent if I didn’t point out that the Ushin did give us the location of this system and they appear to be working with the Darshik … or at least for them. We could very well have been under observation the moment we transitioned in.”

“I’ll take your concern under advisement,” Celesta said. “It’s definitely something we should keep firmly in mind when it comes time to move the
Icarus
. We’ll need to plot out a wide, circuitous course to bring her back around to this jump point and there are more than a few times we’ll be at risk.

“I’m approving this plan as you’ve brought it to me so far, but I think I might want to expand on it. The ramifications of what I want to do, however, could be profound. We just don’t know enough about this species to even guess what would happen if I take this one step further and, even more concerning, we don’t know if we’re just seeing the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Darshik military strength. They could have a much larger fleet, and we have no way of knowing whether the Ushin-provided intelligence should be discounted completely.”

“What do you have in mind, Captain?” Barrett asked.

“Something to respond in kind to the warning we were given in the Xi’an System,” Celesta said. “The
Ares
was dragged from an ultra-secret location just to be detonated in an unnecessarily dramatic display meant to either frighten or dishearten us … or both. We have a chance to do something similar here, but it could be akin to kicking the hornet’s nest, as Captain Wolfe used to say so often.”

“What do you need from us, ma’am?” Commander Severn asked, his feral smile clearly showing what he thought of the prospect of figuratively jabbing a stick into the enemy’s eye.

Celesta walked down the port main access tube, past Engineering, on her way to the drone launch bays. Unlike the shuttle launch bay on the starboard side of the ship, the drone bay was built so that individual craft could be pulled into a pressurized maintenance area without the hassle of bringing them in through an airlock. Even the largest drone, the Jacobson, was small enough that Flight OPS crews would simply seal the launch hatch and pressurize the entire launch tube before pulling the holding cradle into the bay. The
Icarus
currently only had four drones left onboard thanks to the Darshik showing up before she could recall them from her impromptu sensor network, but they were Jacobsons and they had plenty of mission modules aboard so her plan was still technically feasible, if just.

When she walked into the main unmanned space/aero vehicle (USAV) maintenance hangar, Commander Severn’s crews already had both Jacobsons sitting in the middle of the floor on their cradles, access hatches open and cables snaked into the machines from the associated support equipment that had been moved into place. She could also see the sealed crates that held the scalable mission modules had already been brought up from storage and were being inspected by another team of techs. The meeting hadn’t let out all that long ago and Celesta appreciated the sense of urgency with which Flight OPS was going about their business.

“Captain on deck!”

“As you were,” Celesta shouted to be heard over the noise in the hangar. “Where is Commander Severn?”

“Tech center, Captain,” a spacer third class called out and, unnecessarily, pointed to a closed hatch near a bulkhead that had cables passing through and running over to the waiting spacecraft. Celesta waved her thanks and walked over to the hatch.

The tech center was a quiet, isolated room where specialists could work in relative peace to complete the often-complicated programming that went into a drone prior to launch. It also allowed them to monitor the spacecraft once it had been handed off to the CIC or OPS on the bridge.

“Captain,” Severn nodded as she walked in. “We’re compiling the program for the first drone and my people are working on the second. That one is a bit less involved so I expect it to be done shortly. We’ll be running the programs through the simulators and then, if they check out, installing them in the Jacobsons.”

“And the com drone?”

“I have a team inspecting the drone itself and Lieutenant Commander Washburn’s people are helping program that one along with Commander Graham’s team,” Severn said. “My coders don’t have any experience with that system.”

“Of course,” Celesta nodded. “I’m not here to needlessly harass your people, Commander. I just want to be plugged in on every aspect of this operation. There could be … ramifications … if we pull it off successfully and make it back to Terran space.”

Severn motioned for her to move away from the furiously working programmers and near the hatchway.

“If I had any doubts about the plan, the ship, or you, Captain, I would have relieved myself from duty,” he said quietly. “We know the stakes, ma’am. We’re with you.”

“I never had a doubt, Commander,” Celesta said without a smile. “So now the part where I
do
lean on you … how much longer until we can get the Jacobsons on their way?”

“Twelve more hours, ma’am,” Severn said with confidence.

“Very good, Commander,” Celesta said. “I will leave you to it.”

“You might want to stop by and talk to Commander Graham, Captain,” Severn said as she reached for the hatch handle. “His people could use a little encouragement … they have the more difficult task in this project.” Celesta just nodded to him and left.

She still had some doubts about what it was she was planning to do. It was unsanctioned and risky … but being a starship captain meant taking bold, decisive action when the opportunity presented itself without wringing one’s hands or fretting over lack of direction from leadership. In spite of her doubts this
felt
right. She’d make a stand here, and if this was the hill she died on, literally or figuratively, so be it.

****

“Flight OPS and Engineering reports all ready,” Accari reported. “CIC has also checked in and is standing by.”

“Very good.” Celesta stood in the middle of the bridge, breathing in the relative calm for a moment before setting things in motion that could not be reversed.

“OPS, tell CIC they are clear to execute. They are authorized to launch all needed spacecraft and weapons on my authority.”

“Aye aye, ma’am,” Accari said. “Operation is live; starting the mission clock.”

“Tactical, how’s the neighborhood?” Barrett asked.

“Passive sensors indicate local space is clear, sir,” Adler said.

“Jacobsons have departed the
Icarus
,” Accari reported. “Coms drone has also been launched. All drones are moving away on maneuvering jets. CIC says weapons will launch in three hours.”

“Very good,” Celesta said. “Stay sharp and stay loose, everybody. We have a long watch ahead of us, and we’re still behind enemy lines.”

After the mild flurry of activity of launching spacecraft and coordinating across departments, the bridge settled into a tense quiet with station operators talking quietly to their backshops through headsets. Celesta watched the main display as the drones began thrusting down into the system, firing their plasma engines in the lowest stable output mode they could to avoid detection. The acceleration profiles meant it would take a long time for them to get into position, but it greatly minimized the likelihood they’d be detected.

“Weapons firing,” Lieutenant Commander Adler announced just under three hours later, startling Celesta slightly as she’d been wholly focused on the threat board. “Shrikes one, two, and three are away and carrying launcher velocity only, no engines.”

“Now the real wait begins,” Barrett said softly. “Twelve hours before the Shrikes fire their engines, nearly two full days for the Jacobsons to get in position.”

“OPS,” Celesta ignored her executive officer, “inform Engineering that we’re ready to begin prepping the mains for start. We’ll be moving the
Icarus
soon and we cannot afford any slips in schedule due to malfunctions.”

“Aye, ma’am,” Accari said.

****

“All sections have checked in, Captain,” Barrett said as he put down his com link. “The
Icarus
is ready to get underway.”

“Not a moment too soon,” Celesta said. “Helm, come about to your first course change; ahead one-quarter and maintain low-output mode on main engines.”

“Ahead one-quarter, low-output, aye,” the helmsman said. When he throttled up the mains the vibration was so muted through the deck that it could hardly be felt. The course her nav team had plotted out kept the
Icarus
in open space and away from any stellar body that the Darshik might be using to hold a detection satellite in orbit. They would fly out in a long, lazy arc down within the orbit of the seventh planet before coming about sharply and surging to transition velocity. If they timed everything right, their engine thermal bloom might be overlooked when things kicked off down near the Super Alpha.

They’d been able to confirm through the passive sensors that the Phage combat unit was surrounded by some sort of grid or scaffolding, and that there were at least fifteen other ships parked in orbit very close to it, some active and some looking like nothing more than derelicts. The presence of other ships had given her pause when it came to executing her plan, but ultimately she pressed ahead. It wouldn’t be long now … the drones and weapons had been cold-coasting through the system for the better part of two days, and so far there was no indication they’d been spotted, but Celesta took no solace in that. A Darshik cruiser had managed to sneak up right behind them without the passives detecting it, so the fact there wasn’t any overt sign down in the system that they’d been spotted didn’t lessen her anxiety.

“Executing next course change,” the helmsman said without prompting nearly seven hours later, veering them down into the system and beginning the wide loop that would eventually bring them back around with just enough room to accelerate, deploy the warp drive, and transition out. So far so good. It wasn’t that Celesta really expected to escape undetected, but their only option was to fly back through the system they’d just fled from, so she decided to roll the dice and hope against hope that the
Icarus
could sneak back out without the ships still in that system getting advanced warning.

“Ma’am, we have an … anomaly … down near the Super Alpha,” Adler said as the
Icarus
slogged through her lazy turn. “Passives have been able to tentatively identify one of the ships near that lattice structure; the computer is making it as a
Foster
-class heavy cruiser with a forty percent degree of accuracy.”

“The
Leighton
,” Barrett said. “They brought her here.”

“Is that ship under power?” Celesta asked sharply.

“It doesn’t appear so, ma’am,” Adler said. “The anomaly is reading as cold. No engines, no thermal exhaust, no discernable lights.”

Celesta frowned. Like most Terran starships the
Foster
-class was capable of running “cold” for a limited time, but under normal operations an older ship like that would have a visible thermal plume from the cooling systems as well as the regular discharge of plasma over-pressure from the powerplant. She couldn’t imagine that the
Leighton
still had any survivors on it if it was reading as cold as surrounding space. Even if they had inexplicably decided to switch over to closed loop cooling right as the
Icarus
transitioned in, there would still be hot patches on the hull that wouldn’t have cooled that quickly. The ship just wasn’t designed or built for that level of stealth.

Her presence did throw Celesta’s plan into flux, however. She could assume that there was no living crew aboard the
Leighton
, but she couldn’t assume that they were all dead. It was equally likely they’d been removed from the ship and were detained somewhere else. What would happen to them when her operation went live? She could still quietly recall her assets and just hope the small burp of EM radiation that required would escape notice, but then what? There was zero chance the
Icarus
and her small contingent of Marines could find the crew, effect a rescue, and escape so deep in Darshik territory, but would their operation sign their death sentence?

All these questions flitted through Celesta’s head in less than a second as she realized there was still really only one option open to her. The crew of the
Leighton
had signed up for the same dangers her crew had, and while they deserved every chance for a rescue, there wasn’t a chance for that with one destroyer.

“The op is still a go,” she said. This drew a few looks from her crew, some incredulous, others concerned, but she ignored them.

“You heard the captain,” Barrett said sharply. “That ship is a derelict and we all know it. We have work to do, so let’s get to it.”

This seemed to snap everyone out of their stunned silence and got them moving in the right direction again. Celesta understood the emotions they were feeling and even shared them, but her responsibility was to the Federation and to humanity as a whole … she had a chance to deliver a hard blow if her guess was correct, and she couldn’t shy away from that based on nothing more than a slim chance the
Leighton
crew was still alive. She sat back in her chair, the weight of her decision seeming to press her down into it as she thought about what might happen if she were wrong.

****

“
Your aggression is unwarranted. Your attacks were unprovoked. We will not allow you to continue. Like the Phage, you will learn a hard lesson of what happens when you attack humans
.
This will be your only warning
.”

The message was being broadcast at full power across the system from a Jacobson drone streaking at full speed in a heliocentric orbit just past the fourth planet. It had been loaded with multiple transmission modules and was spitting out the message on every frequency in both Standard and what their Ushin translation matrix had given them.

“Second Jacobson has gone active,” Accari reported.

“Helm, all ahead emergency,” Celesta ordered. “Bring the
Icarus
to transition velocity. OPS, stand by to deploy the warp drive.”

“All engines ahead emergency, aye!”

“Shrikes have fired their second stage boosters, weapons going active,” Adler said as she watched the mission clock. The
Icarus
was so far out that they had no idea if anything was actually happening save for the message being broadcast by the second drone since it had actually reached them. The rest was just assuming everything was working as it had been designed.

“
Icarus
is at transition plus ten! Engines to zero thrust and securing from flight mode,” the helmsman called out.