Warborg - Star Panther (17 page)

Martin shut down the yacht simulation and just seemed to be drifting through space with Prowler sitting in his lap. They’d been traveling for six days and during the last four they were running silent. Martin scratched the top of Prowler’s head. “Sure is quiet out here,” He sighed.
We’re getting pretty deep into Koth territory. I guess I expected more activity. This is almost spooky.
He settled in a bit, letting the stars mesmerize him as they slowly floated by. “We’re a shadowy phantom just passing through little fella.” He smiled at his AI buddy. “Let’s just hope it stays that way.” The last thing he saw was Prowler’s big yellow eyes as he dozed off.

Martin was jarred awake by Prowler’s low growl and his movement as he stared into empty space. Martin blinked himself awake. “What’s out there fella . . . show me?” A small red dot appeared, seeming to float in empty space. As Martin watched several more dots appeared sequentially in a random pattern. “A reconnaissance drone?” Martin muttered. “Way out here, deep in their own territory?” He rubbed the back of his neck. “This don’t make no sense . . . even for the Koth.”
It’s just bouncing all over the place, not really going anywhere.
“Maybe it’s malfunctioning.” He speculated out loud. Prowler’s ears flattened. A second drone popped into view showing up as yellow dots. Martin watched in silence as two more drones were spotted. They all were jumping in the same random fashion as the first. “I’d buy one malfunctioning, but not four.” Three more showed up as he contemplated their existence. “Be on your toes fella, I don’t think they’ll spot us, but we better be ready if one does.” Prowler answered with a slow blink.

For the next several hours Martin watched in silent amazement as they passed through literally hundreds of the drones. “They’re patrolling!” Prowler, show me a wide view, time history of all the drones we’ve spotted, link the dots for the individual drones. Martin’s view of space shifted dramatically. The linked dots formed a deep, dense, over lapping net. It was very noticeable it was a sensor barrier when observed in its entirety. “Go to a sector view and extrapolate this pattern across the sector.”

Again Martin’s view shifted. He sucked in his breath. “Oh my God.” The field of drones formed an immense wall that slowly curved back toward Koth occupied territory as it faded from the simulation in all directions. Martin noted they couldn’t see through to the other side.
How thick is this thing . . . or is it solid?
Martin’s gut tightened. “Show me our path.”

Martin studied a white line pulsing in the barrier. It entered at a shallow tangent to the curve of the barrier and was still driving in deeper as it faded at the edge of the view. “This ain’t good, fella.” He sagged a little as he considered their options.
If we change course there’s too good a chance one of the drones will detect the change in the FTL field. If we drop into sublight space we should be all right running silent, but it will take months to work our way back out, and then if we try to jump it’ll be like a flash bulb in a darkroom to them.
On Martin’s command a small instrument consol faded in next to him.
Thirty hours before I’m going to have to regen the FTL field, thirty six if I want to push our luck.
Martin shuddered at the thought of their FTL field collapsing and dropping them into normal space. It would be noisy, and his ship would take fifteen seconds to re-establish the FTL field from a cold start. Martin studied the simulation for a second. Even though it was off the edge of the simulation, it was painfully obvious they would still be deep in the barrier after thirty hours. His ship had a quiet regen, but would it be quiet enough? “Steady as she goes little buddy.”

. . .

Martin checked the time. It had been twelve hours since he made his decision to continue.
Sometimes I’m glad I’m not a bio. I’d be soaked with sweat and have stomach cramps from hell by now.
Another drone blinked in and out, well within its sensor range. It didn’t self destruct. Martin blew out yet another held breath. He closed his eyes and sucked in a huge breath.
So far, so good.

The thought was splintered with Prowler’s low hiss. Martin’s eyes sprang open just as two drones self destructed at the very limit of his detection.
What the hell!!
A heartbeat later several FTL jump signatures
[8]
appeared in the area, followed by a smattering of microjump signatures, then nothing. Martin tensely waited. A few moments later a single larger signature appeared. “Steady fella.” Martin muttered, more to himself that Prowler. He watched as the two drones were replaced and all the ships jumped several minutes later. “Now what was that all about?”

. . .

“Show that again, one tenth speed.” Martin requested. He closely observed as each ship arrived on the scene. As they came into view each was tagged as a ship type by comparing their field signatures to a database of known ship types. There was no correlation for the initial ship. The next to arrive were two Koth strike fighters followed immediately by three Koth light fighters. The last to arrive was a rarely seen Koth tactical transport ship. Only the Koth ships displayed a signature when they left, the mystery ship never established an FTL field again. Martin didn’t even notice a couple drones come and go as he contemplated what he had observed.

“That was an intercept,” Martin mused, thinking aloud. “But who did they intercept?”
The missing warborgs? No, the field signature is totally wrong for any type of human ship.
“Besides, a warborg would have kicked their butts . . . unless he was really damaged,” Martin fretted as he stared out into the blackness.

“Hell, we’ve got more pressing business than worrying about this.” Martin shook his head and held Prowler a little closer. “They had ships there in just a couple seconds . . . HOW? We gotta be more careful that I could ever have dreamed fella.” Martin’s thoughts drifted from their plight back to the far off battle. He snapped up right. “Prowler, the Koth jumped and the drones didn’t care!” Martin slapped himself on the forehead. “How could I be so thick?”
The goddamned drones ignore known Koth FTL field signatures. Otherwise the Koth couldn’t operate in their own barrier.
“God I’m stupid. Arghhh.” He took a deep breath and shook his head. “Prowler, we need to make like a Koth in here. Find a Koth FTL signature and reconfigure our systems to match it. You got that?” Prowler gave him a lazy meow and started grooming.
Always a good sign.
Martin thought as he smiled down on his little buddy.

. . .

Sixteen hours later Martin wasn’t so sure. He had managed to get a couple hours of sleep, but the stress being continuously buzzed by the drones and the lingering questions about the distant fight were taking a toll. The only Koth signature Prowler was able to match with the human ship was a little used light missile frigate. “Fighting the Koth is like fighting a bunch of old lady librarians. They’re not really much in a head to head fight, but they never fail to nit pick details,” He muttered.
I don’t think they’d take a piss without a plan.
He shook his head as he studied the archive about the Koth frigate. They used to be all over the place when the Koth were attacking human installations. Now they were almost non-existent, the last sighting of one was over six months ago. Martin sighed.
Well, if there’s anybody who would still maintain them as an active ship it would be the Koth.
“Besides, all the Koth ships would have to pass through this mess on their way to the front. So I guess it stands to reason if there are any of them still active they’d be let through,” Martin mused, more to reassure himself than anything else. “These friggin’ drones are as thick as flies,” he grated studying the area around his ship. Another drone passed by as he watched.

. . .

“Now let me get this straight,” Martin muttered shaking his head. “I’m going to drop into normal space in an area ass deep in reconnaissance drones, slowly dissipate my FTL field, and only way to get the hell out of Dodge by the way. Then casually cold generate a field that the drones may or may not ignore.” He shook his head and laughed. “What am I . . . stupid?”
Like we have any real choice. Shit!
Martin took a deep breath and blew it slowly out. “Ok fella, let’s do it. You’ve got control, make it as quiet as you can. I wanna’ be a hole in space.” He held his breath.

Normal space slowly faded into view and Martin marveled at his AI’s absolute control. A drone blinked in and out, no self destruction. He watched in silent concentration as Prowler bled off the FTL field. Another drone came and went.
So far, so good,
was his fleeting thought while he studied his instruments with clinical interest as Prowler adjusted settings all over the ship. A drone blinked through just a few hundred meters from the ship and Martin felt a knot of primal fear start to form.
Trying to make the Star Panther look like a Koth ship. I must be crazy.
What seemed like hours later Prowler signaled he was ready. Martin checked the time, barely three minutes had passed. Martin gritted his teeth and shut his eyes. “Do it!”

The FTL field generators came to life at almost full power. Martin’s mouth fell open and his eyes bulged. “What the hell are you doing! Jesus Christ, why don’t you just hang out a damned neon sign that says ‘Nuke Here’! Shit!” He tried to take control of the systems, they didn’t respond. “OH FUCK ME! Prowler!” A drone flashed through. “Oh shit.” The drone didn’t self destruct and Martin sagged in absolute confusion. A few seconds later they initiated their jump and were on their way. The yacht simulation started and Martin stared wide eyed at Prowler who was contentedly grooming in the co-pilot’s seat. Martin slumped into the command seat still glaring at Prowler.

“Ok, ya smug little shit, what was that all about?” Martin groused. A display lit up on the side console with two flat lines on it. One was labeled Koth frigate and the other Star Panther. In slow motion the two deflected in unison as the FTL fields took shape, they were precise duplicates through out the entire generation. Martin rested his chin in his hand as he studied the curves form a few times. Then the Star Panther line was labeled 10% power and the process started again. There were noticeable deviations from the Koth FTL curve. Martin smiled at Prowler, “Okay, I’m sorry. I never realized how the power inflow would effect the forming of the field even if the final results were the same. Very good, little fella.” Martin contemplated his still slightly shaking hands, then laughed. “We’re totally invisible to the drones now.” He had a thought. “Do you have a regen curve for the frigate?” Prowler looked at him for a second and a single curve replaced the pair in the display. Martin gave Prowler a relaxed smile, “Very good. I’m going to get some real sleep. You’ve got the Panther.” Prowler blinked then went back to grooming as Martin headed for the master’s chamber.

. . .

“It’s a friggin’ freeway,” Martin muttered as he watched yet another group of Koth ships pass through.
Man there’s some heavy ships headed somewhere.
He thought as the FTL signatures rolled down his display. “And we’re only seeing the ones doing a field regen within our detection range. Something’s going on little fella.” Martin glanced at another display.
We can run in cold silence for another three hours, that should get us well clear of the Koth traffic.
Martin thought with a smile, marveling at one of the most exotic and unique features of the Star Panther. They were running on pure inertia with all the FTL systems either shutdown or barely idling. “We can’t keep this up for long fella, but while it lasts a firefly makes more noise than we do.” Another group of Koth passed by. “Geez, we should put up a toll booth, we’d be rich in a week.” Martin chuckled hollowly, worrying what all this traffic meant. He studied a large holodisplay. By our best estimate we should clear the drones in about three days. “Until we do, we can’t do shit warning Command about all this Koth movement,” Martin sighed.
And I bet in three days Command will know all about it.
It was a sour thought. One of the Koth FLT signatures caught his eye.
That’s a heavy barrage ship. Holy shit, they’re after a planetary installation somewhere.
“Prowler, extrapolate their path into our space. Let’s see if we can tell where they’re going.”

Martin’s stomach sunk as he contemplated the display Prowler produced. “The Merced system . . . Are you sure?” ‘90% probability’ flashed in the corner of the display. “Travel time from here to the Merced system?” The 90% probability was replaced with ‘180 hours’. Martin felt a sense of panic. “How far from the Merced system to Earth in travel time?” The ‘20 hours’ that flashed on the screen seemed to mock his sense of reality.
My God the Merced system is the last main defense installation between Koth space and Earth. It’s a big hard target, but if the Koth knock it out there’s nothing to stop them from hitting Earth.
“Prowler, we gotta warn them.” Martin fought down his despair as he watched several drones bounce through and to accentuate his desperation another small group of Koth ships passed through. “Prowler, in three hours we should be clear of this Koth traffic. If we change direction and go like hell, what’s our best time and course to get clear of these damn drones?” ‘36 hours’ flashed on the screen.

Commander Stratton drummed his fingers on the desktop as he again looked at the clock.
Two more hours of this crap.
He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose as he half heartedly scrolled through the operational status report on the Merced units.
Third shift Officer on Duty, what a load of bullshit. A flunky straight out of boot could do this job.
The vidphone buzzed disturbing his thoughts. He stared at it sourly and let it buzz a couple more times before tapping the answer button in disgust.
The latrine must be backed up again . . . so we better notify the Officer on Duty, he’ll know what to do.
A young Lieutenant’s face appeared. “Yes, what is it?” Stratton sighed with barely concealed animosity.

“Sir, we are receiving a high priority message on the encrypted command channel requesting direct communication with the Officer on Duty.

Stratton typed out a quick sequence on a side console. Instantly the source and authorizations appeared. He did a quick double take when he saw it was from The Star Panther and Major Martin Morgan. “I’ve got it.” He tapped the disconnect button on the vidphone before the Lieutenant could reply.

Stratton studied the console for a several seconds remembering the humiliation he suffered because of this warborg. As he watched the incoming message terminated. A cold smile formed on his face. “Rot in hell you bastard. No one’s coming to save you this time.” Laughing he tapped the cancel and delete keys. He looked at the clock. “Maybe this job does have an upside.”

. . .

“What a jerk,” the Lieutenant seethed under his breath when Stratton vanished from his vidphone. He looked at the message header in wonder.
Major Martin Morgan from the Star Panther. . . wow! Too cool.
His wondrous smile collapsed when the incoming message terminated without warning. By reflex he locked the holding queue and was stunned to see the delete command come through a second later. “This can’t be right,” he hissed. With practiced precision he bounced the message to another queue . . . then another . . . and yet another, with the delete command in hot pursuit like a guided missile. “MAJOR!!”

. . .

The Major in charge of the central Merced communications office watched over her ward with an easy pride knowing they were good.
Another relaxed shift with a good bunch of troops.
She smiled. She heard one of the junior officers on a side console say; “This can’t be right.” Then he started typing like crazy. She started to stand up when he yelled for her. She rushed over. “What!”

“I’ve got a big, really big, data stream . . . on the secure command . . . channel.” He replied in broken pieces as he raced to keep ahead of the delete command. “It terminated . . . abnormally. Stratton . . . never even opened it . . . He just sent . . . a delete . . . command.”

She made her decision in a split second. This officer had always shown excellent judgment. She pushed in front of the startled enlisted troop on the next console and typed in a quick sequence. “Bounce it through 247.163.177.19.233/que/echo, Lieutenant.”

He did as he was told and grimaced as it took a split second longer than usual to bounce back out of that queue. Two bounces later he sagged when the delete command entered a queue before he could clear the message. “Damn.” He slumped in his seat, brushing a bead of sweat from his temple. “I guess it was inevitable . . . I just wish I knew what Major Martin Morgan wanted to report. I hope we’ll know someday.”

The Major felt the hair stand up on the back of her neck.
Still carrying a grudge are we Stratton.
“You tried Lieutenant. Why don’t you take a break.”

The Lieutenant gave a tired nod of resigned thanks and headed for the break room, grumbling under his breath.

The Major casually went to her office and quietly closed the door behind her. With a calmness she didn’t feel, she sat down and pulled up the queue she had given the Lieutenant. She sighed in relief as a mirror image of the message showed up. With careful keystrokes she renamed the message and put it back into its original sequence. She opened the encrypted file and studied the data. She couldn’t read the actual contents of the file but long experience told her it was a huge chunk of sensor data.

She tapped out a number on her vidphone. Her commanding officer answered after the second buzz, he was clearly getting ready to come in. “Mark, I have a situation . . . you need to be here now.”

He studied her strained features for just a moment. “On the way.” And vanished from the vidphone.

. . .

Admiral Silverberg studied the two apprehensive faces in his vidphones. “I’ve already mobilized the entire battalion. What do you make of this message?”

“Take it serious Admiral, damned serious,” Admiral Chinn replied. “This man is nobodies fool, if he says you’re going to get hit hard and heavy, count on it.”

“From the look of the sensor data logs he sent I’d be scrambling for re-enforcement as we speak.” Briton added. “He saw only the tip of the iceberg . . . and he knew it.”

Silverberg sighed. “It’s already in work. What do you make of all that other noise around him?”

Briton gave a tight smile. “Reconnaissance drones, Admiral.” He hesitated, “Literally thousands of them. We’ve never seen them except in ones or twos.”

Chinn smiled. “Only the Star Panther could have survived in that mess, and probably only with Major Morgan in charge.”

“And a lot of help from Prowler, I suspect.” Briton added with a tight smile.

“No further word from him?” Briton asked quietly.

Silverberg shook his head. “No, sorry. Just him telling someone off screen they had company and the abnormal message termination.”

“Talking to Prowler, no doubt.” Admiral Chinn looked a little worried.

“Who’s Prowler?” Admiral Silverberg’s curiosity finally got the best of him.

“Oh sorry, that’s his AI co-pilot.” Briton nodded.

“He’s a cat.” Chinn smiled.

“Whaaa . . .” Admiral Silverberg started to speak when he was interrupted by his secretary on the intercom. He tapped the connect button.

“Commander Stratton is here, Sir.” The voice came through the audio only intercom.

“Send him in, thank you.” Silverberg disconnected.

A moment later a disheveled Commander Stratton was escorted in by two security officers. He looked around the office and curled his lip slightly at the sight of Chinn and Briton. “Commander Stratton reporting as ordered, Sir.” He snapped a salute at Silverberg.

Admiral Silverberg felt his bile rise.
I can’t believe I allowed myself to take the piss ant as a favor to his uncle.
“Commander, early this morning you received a high priority communication from one Major Morgan. Why did you delete it before you even looked at it?”

Stratton stared straight ahead, glaring at the wall over Silverberg’s head in silence.

“Very well, have it your way Commander.” Silverberg hissed, his face slowly turning red. “If it weren’t for the quick work of some communications personnel, work taken at their own risk I might add, we would never have known what was in Major Morgan’s communication.” The Admiral rubbed his forehead in anger. “Major Morgan has not been heard from since.”

A slight smile flickered across Stratton’s face.

“Would you like to know what was in that message that you decided to delete without bothering to check Commander Stratton?” Silverberg seethed.

Stratton looked the admiral in the eye and gave a smug smile, his career was finished and he knew it. “His last will and testament, I hope.”

Silverberg fought back the urge to jump up and slap the insolence off Stratton’s face. “No, this is what you
decided
to delete.” He angrily slapped a button on his console. A wall display lit up on the office wall. Martin’s face materialized.

“. . . I repeat Merced Command, a Koth armada is en route to your location. I anticipate an attack by a fleet of over a thousand mixed Koth vessels in one hundred to one hundred twenty hours from now. I am sending what sensor data I have.”

Admiral Silverberg slammed his fist down on the off button. “It wasn’t his last will and testament he sent, you fool . . . it was our’s if we hadn’t been warned.” The Admiral was visibly shaking. “I’m charging you with dereliction of duty during wartime.” He squinted his eyes. “I’d charge you with treason and have you executed, if I thought I could make it stick.”

Stratton paled to a ghostly white and a wet spot ran down his pant leg.

“Get this ‘gentleman’ out of my sight.” Admiral Silverberg snarled in total disgust.

The two security officers gave a quick nod and pointed to the door showing their total disdain for Stratton. Stratton started to say something, but one of the security officers cut him off. “Just give me a reason you piece of shit, c’mon, just give me a reason.” The other officer gave Stratton a not so gentle shove toward the door. A sobbing Stratton shuffled out followed by the security officers, as he left the trailing officer gave Silverberg a sad, angry nod as he quietly closed the door.

Admiral Silverberg sat in silence for a few seconds regaining his composure. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He apologized to Chinn and Briton.

Chinn gave him a hard smile. “I wouldn’t have missed that for the world.”

“Here, here.” Briton added solemnly. “I think the security officers were rather upset with him also.”

Silverberg’s eyebrows shot up. “They would have been just as dead as the rest of us if we didn’t get that warning . . .and they knew it.”

Admiral Chinn’s face transformed into a nasty smile. “I’m sure you’re men will go by the book, but his fellow inmates will know what he did. Think he’ll make it to trial?” She was answered with two equally evil looks.

Admiral Silverberg shook off the event. “You two have the most head to head experience with the Koth in large scale battles. What should I expect . . .”

Silverberg’s alert console screamed for attention. He slapped the connect button. A wide eyed Commander stared back.

“Admiral, we received an incoming micro-burst from the Star Panther, data only. You better look at this now! Secure net channel six.”

Admiral Silverberg tapped a button on his console and the wall display came to life again. He glanced at the two vidphones to make sure they could see the display. They watched for several seconds.

“The bloody hell . . .” Briton’s quiet voice roared in the silent office as they watched the frantic struggle on the display.

“Damn, he’s quick!” Silverberg muttered in awe.

“Prowler,” the other two said in unison.