A Faded Star (26 page)

 Aden said, “Amazing, sir. Has the Aeternum produced
anything else?”

 “Two other things. The first batch of shipyard
upgrades have been completed. We tasked the Aeternum with producing smaller
versions of itself. There was a design for one kilometer rings with identical
capabilities on the ship's files. We popped four of them out at once. The first
four docks in the shipyard are now being retrofitted with the new manufacturing
rings. The other thing it produced was a prototype stealth ship. Admiral Brand
has an idea about ships that can't be detected. He instructed the ship to
produce the most advanced ship design for stealth action possible. Take a look
at the result.”

 Stokes tapped his data pad. The display changed to
show a ship unlike anything Patho had ever seen. The ship was an elongated
diamond resting atop what had to be a smaller version of the manufacturing ring
itself. There was a wide set of angular projections both forward and aft on the
top of the ship. The whole ship was pitch black, making the exact shape
difficult to make out even on the screen.

 “Is that ring a manufacturing ring as well,” Patho
asked.

 “It is. Apparently, all advanced ship designs include
the capability to 'resurge' according to the database. With a small ring a
couple of hundred meters across like that one, you could make a second ring
half a kilometer across and then a two and a half kilometer ring, followed by a
five kilometer ring. The five kilometer ring is, apparently, the pinnacle of
design as far as the Aeternum's database is concerned. When asked, the computer
did acknowledge that larger rings could be made, but there seems to be no
reason to make such a ship. Bigger ships that are completely crammed with
offensive and defensive technologies become little more than mobile bases. The
second issue with larger designs is one of mass and inertia. The materials
engineering is an issue for bigger ships. They could rip themselves apart under
torsional stress without very careful structural design even with the most
advanced materials in the manufacturing database. Smaller, tougher and more
maneuverable ships are the rule here.”

 “I see, sir. What about that stealth ship? How hard is
it to detect?

 “It flew within a hundred meters of one of our sensor
satellites at full throttle, weapons fully charged, and we didn't see it.”

 “Wow. Where do I sign up to get one of those?”

 Stokes chuckled. “Get in line, Commander. I think the
admirals will commission a series of ships based on the experimental design.
For right now, it's just a prototype with a number of possible permutations.
There are also several problem areas with the design. It has no defensive
capability, and there are a few other issues.”

 “May I ask what they are, sir?”

 “The available power is pretty limited in stealth
mode. When using full throttle and at full power, the ship still can't
accelerate half as fast as Rampart can. Weapons power is also pretty minimal
compared to a full on warship of the same tonnage. Probably between fifty and sixty
percent the offensive potential.”

 “But delivered without warning, at the most opportune
possible moment, surprise is one of the most decisive advantages a captain can
have on the battlefield, sir,” Aden observed.

 “I agree. I've been communicating with Admiral Brand
on that very subject and suggested that all ships at least include some level
of stealth technology. Giving us the ability to hide and operate under minimal
power with negligible chance of detection would be of tremendous value. We're exploring
ways to retrofit the technology to ships of Rampart's class.”

 “Speaking of Rampart, have we uploaded our drone
technology to the manufacturing computer?”

 “That was the last thing I was going to tell you about
before we broke for the afternoon. Rampart will be getting a full complement of
newly designed drones. These drones will be virtually undetectable, carry half
again the firepower and have twice the defensive abilities over the previous
drones. Expected manufacture is day after tomorrow. Once Rampart has completed
refit and testing of her new systems, we're heading out with the Rook to see
what's happened at the alliance base. It's a little over five jumps. We have
the ability to shorten it to four if the way looks clear. The star charts aboard
the Aeternum are pretty out of date, as you might imagine. We're using our new
sensor network to update as much as we can, but a lot of things can't be
detected until we are much closer.”

 “It sure will be nice to see how the new drones
perform.”

 “I want you to work up an exercise schedule. Run it by
Mister Kri. Rook will be shaking down at the same time. You may want to include
a few joint exercises. Show their tactical officer how it's done.”

 Patho caught himself grinning at the Commodore. “I
will, sir. If their tactical officer was in my graduating class from tactical
school, he won't stand a chance.”

 “I think he is. Make sure you use it as a teaching
tool and not a way of embarrassing the other ship, though.”

 “Of course, sir. I'll give him a few openings to see
if he takes me up on them.”

 “Good. One last thing, Mister Patho. I've heard a bit
of information that I deem reliable. Agent Cobb is gunning for your family. You
might end up caught in the crossfire. If he comes at you again, let me know and
make sure you get legal representation. I won't have that man tearing your
career apart.”

 “Thank you, sir. I will keep you informed.”

 “Good. If there's nothing else?” Patho shook his head.
“Dismissed then, commander.”

 Captain Erickson paced back and fourth behind the
command chair on the Saber. Her arms were crossed behind her back, and her eyes
darted back and forth between points on the floor in front of her. She watched
the timer on the screen. The offensive squadron was scheduled to arrive at L262
in less than ten minutes. She tried to calm her nerves. Her mind kept wandering
over the absence of crab forces in M673. Something about the situation made her
skin crawl.

 “Ma'am, we're getting a signal from the Broadsword.
They want us to override FTL system safety and go into the system to this
point,” Commander Hoskins said. The executive officer put a point up on the
small tactical display.

 “Very well, override safeties and continue to the
designated point.”

 “Aye, ma'am,” Hoskins said. He worked for a moment
before saying, “Ma'am, I can't get the system to accept the override.”

 “Keep trying. We still have a couple of minutes.”

 Hoskins worked as hard as he could, but the system
refused the override again and again. They ran out of time and Saber slowed to
sublight speed right at the edge of L262.

 “Sir, we've come out of FTL,” Hoskins said. His voice
was tight, and his tone clipped, betraying his frustration at failing to get
the ship to obey him.

 “Very well, exec. Full sensor sweep, Lieutenant
Thurman.”

 Thurman, the operations and navigational officer said,
“Aye, Ma'am.” There was a pause before he said, “Ma'am, the rest of the
offensive squadron completed their transit and arrived at the target
coordinates. It looks like a large crab force is waiting in the system.
Multiple crab ships are mobilizing all around the other four ships, ma'am.”

 “Signal the Broadsword, our computer did not accept
FTL safety override. Lieutenant Samson, plot an intercept along the
Broadsword's current heading. Make sure we can meet up with them.”

 “Aye, sir,” Samson said. After a moment, the tactical
officer said, “Ma'am, we can meet up with them about twenty million kilometers
along their current heading, we should be able to avoid most of the larger crab
formations.”

 “Very well. Mister Hoskins, put me through to Admiral
Drogue.”

 A moment later, Drogue's wizened face appeared on the
comm screen. “Admiral, looks like the crabs were waiting for us. My tactical
officer says we have a good chance of making a rendezvous point with you about
twenty million kilometers along your current heading.” Erickson felt a huge
knot of fear settle into her stomach as she said the words. Taking that action
would virtually guarantee the deaths of everyone aboard the Saber.

 “That's a negative, captain. I am ordering you to make
for the alliance base. Signal the alliance salvage ship on your way out and let
them know to retreat to their base as well. Our chances of escape are poor at
best. We flew directly into a trap.”

 “Aye, sir. I will do as you order. Is there anything
else I can do?”

 Drogue's eyes were distant for a split second before
he said, “Survive, captain. With luck, I'll see you again. Drogue out.” The
admiral's face vanished from the screen.

 Erickson said, “Signal the alliance salvage ship and
have her return to the alliance base. We'll be right behind them. I intend to
stay and record the battle until it's over or we're forced to leave.”

 “Aye, ma'am,” Hoskins said. He turned and began
passing orders to see the captain's wishes seen to. “Ma'am, we have a response
from the alliance ship. They're returning to the alliance base.”

 “Very well,” Erickson said. She watched the tactical
display as Drogue's formation pivoted along their course and with machine like
precision and took out a formation of five destroyers. Just as things looked
like they would get through, a trio of battlecruisers started their drives and
began firing at the formation. She watched in helpless anger as first the
Poniard was destroyed, then the Dirk and finally, the brave fall of Broadsword
herself. The entire bridge crew watched silently along with their captain.
Someone was crying softly behind Erickson, but she didn't care to find out who
it was. She watched Rapier brake hard and maneuver to pick up most of the
escape pods that were drifting along on their inertia imparted by the ships
they'd escaped from.

 Rapier began thrusting forcefully along to the
departure point, and Erickson felt a moment of joy before seeing a battleship,
the most powerful crab unit, begin active maneuvers right in front of the
Rapier.

 “Make triple copies of all sensor logs, Mister
Thurman.” Erickson's voice quavered as she spoke. Hundreds of brave men and
women were dying as they sat and watched, helpless to do anything about it.

 “Aye, ma'am,” Thurman said.

 The Rapier suddenly streaked, and the battleship
vanished in a furious ball of discharging energy. Hoskins gasped and then said,
“They used their FTL drive as a weapon.”

 Erickson shook her head, trying to clear it. “How many
escape pods are still in the system?”

 “Looks like seventeen, ma'am,” Hoskins said.

 “Very well. Let's lurk here and see what the crabs do.
We have plenty of distance and can go into FTL at any moment. If they leave the
system, we can go in and pick them up.”

 The Saber watched as a single crab ship methodically
moved in and began gathering up the escape pods. Then Erickson got the shock of
a lifetime. Thousands of engine signatures lit off throughout the system. The
entire crab fleet was in there. It was waiting for the tiny formation of human
led ships.

 “Get a full sensor scan before we leave, Mister
Hoskins,” Erickson said. “Let me know when we have a complete scan of the crab
fleet. Be ready to engage FTL if there is even the possibility of us coming
into engagement range of any of their ships.”

 “Aye, ma'am,” Hoskins said. The crew worked quietly
for a few moments. Erickson reflected on what she'd just seen. The crabs were
either foolish or arrogant concentrating their forces in this way. They'd
brought hundreds of times the amount of firepower needed to defeat the
offensive squadron. The fact that they'd let the offensive force maneuver so
freely after arriving indicated they were trying to gather intelligence as much
as pluck a thorn from their collective side. She was surprised at the speed
with which so many ships had been put in place.

 Her thoughts were interrupted when Hoskins said,
“Sensor scan complete. Head for the alliance base?”

 “Yes, commander. Engage FTL.”

 The Saber left L262 behind. The six day journey was
tense and sad. Many of the crew knew those who had perished in L262 and even
those who didn't were affected by the loss of so many fellow naval comrades. By
the time Saber made its approach to the alliance base, the mood aboard was
quite dark.

 Erickson came to the bridge ten minutes before Saber
was scheduled to arrive. She relieved Hoskins, who was normally in command on
second watch. “What's our status, Mister Hoskins?”

 “We're scheduled to arrive at the alliance base in ten
minutes, ma'am. Sensors indicate some high level of energy activity in the
system, but we can't definitively say what it's from.”

 “Very well, Commander. Send the ship to battle
stations.”

 “Aye, ma'am.” Hoskins tapped his console, and an alarm
began blaring from every loudspeaker in the ship. The crew was awakened and
hustled to their assignments with time to spare for the arrival at the alliance
base. “Battle stations manned and ready, Captain,” Hoskins said.

 “Very well. How far behind us is the alliance salvage
ship?”

 “Roughly three hours. We made the transit a lot
faster, but we stayed at L262 for a long time as well.”

 “When we enter comm range with the alliance base, send
a signal that we've arrived along with the status of L262. The crabs have
pulled a fast one on us, and I don't want to find out they've outmaneuvered us
again. Besides, we might be able to persuade the salvage ship to go to Lashmere
instead of the Xalcek system if the need arises.”

 “Arriving at the alliance base, now, captain,” Thurman
reported.

 “Very well. Bring us out of FTL and begin active scans
of the system.”

 The Saber dropped to sublight speed and swept with her
active sensors.

 “Ma'am, we have multiple crab drive signatures, looks
like the same force that was in L262. Near on a thousand point sources across
the system. They appear concentrated at the base.”

 “Put the data on the tactical display, exec.”

 The screen displayed the massive fleet swarming around
what had once been the alliance's forward base, the second most powerful
defensive structure the alliance had in the field, second only to the Xalcek
system itself. Hoskins and Erickson leaned forward and studied the display.

 “Looks like the closest hostile is more than an hour
away, ma'am,” Hoskins said.

 “Agreed. Send a signal to the salvage ship and advise
them they should change course to head to the Lashmere system.”

 “Aye, ma'am. Sending signal now.” There was a wait of
several minutes before a response was received. “They insist on inspecting the
situation themselves, and they will push on to the Xalcek system if the
situation here is as bad as we are telling them.”

 “Fair enough. I guess they need to see it for
themselves.” Erickson rested her chin in her hands for a moment while she
considered the situation. “I wonder how they could have gotten here before us.
They must have flown the exact same course as we flew. How could they have
flown past us without being detected.”

 Thurman said, “I don't think it’s possible. The
gravity displacement wave they would have produced moving such a large fleet,
especially at such a high multiple of C, would have made them impossible to
miss even with our sensor degradation while at FTL speeds.”

 “Which means this is not, in fact, the same fleet as
was at L262, but a second fleet of nearly exactly the same size and
composition.”

 “It's a rather unsettling thought, captain,” Thurman
said. “What are we going to do?”

 We'll make our way to Lashmere. Set an initial course
to Xalcek. Once we clear sensor range, slow and turn for Lashmere. I don't want
the crabs to extrapolate the position of Lashmere in case they don't know where
it's at yet.”

 “Aye, ma'am. Helm set course for Xalcek and engage FTL
soonest.”

 “Aye, sir,” the helmsman said.

 The Saber flickered and vanished into a brilliant
flash of light before the crabs had even noticed that they were observing the
system. After two hours, Saber stopped and adjusted her course to make the
twenty day flight to Lashmere.

 Marli Simmons had a huge grin on her face as she sat
on the bridge of the Aeternum. Since her assignment to the initial design board
for the new Lashmere Navy ships, she'd had a lot of time to sit and browse the
information contained in the database. Her first sweep through the database had
revealed most of the places she wanted to go, but the more she dug in the
system, the more information she found and the more she was able to refine her
goals. The original Terran Empire had held sway over thousands of star systems.
Many of them had had advanced research facilities. Her goal to find the ones
that were focused exclusively on the enhancement of the human lifespan was
nearly complete. The empire had also held its cards close to its chest when it
came to classified research. Simmons had to break through multiple lockout
encryption routines and to create a fake set of login codes to allow her
repeated access to the most classified sections of the database. Six locations
were now on her primary target list. Originally, none of these star systems had
appeared to have anything worth investigating, but the more she dug, the more
pieces of the puzzle fell into place.

 Now all she needed was a plan that would allow her to
get Lashmere Naval Command to send an expedition to these bases and facilities.
The sooner they got their hands on this hyper advanced medical technology, the
sooner the people of Lashmere, and more importantly, Marli herself, would live
far longer than they did today. She finalized her data and got it wrapped up in
her data pad. She would present her findings to Commodore Stokes as soon as she
saw him.

 She walked out into the passageway outside the bridge
and saw Halford Kri walking towards her. He paused when he saw her then broke
into a huge grin and waved.

 He jogged up the passageway to her and said, “Marli,
good to see you. How's things going?”

 Simmons cast about in her head for a reason to be
here. She said, “Just getting some data in line for my initial proposal for new
ship designs.”

 Kri peered at her for a moment before saying, “Marli,
you're turning bright red. Are you okay?”

 Simmons wanted to slap herself. She knew she was a
terrible liar. “I'm fine, just surprised to see you is all. I thought you were
still assigned to Rampart.”

 “I am.” He looked Simmons up and down with his eyes.
“You're looking good, Marli. How is your new assignment going?”

 “Thanks, Hal. We're trying to use the best of the
available technology in the manufacturing ship's database to build a fleet to
defend Lashmere.”

 “We can't build too many ships. We don't have enough
people to get them fully crewed.”

 “We're looking at using high levels of automation for
the ships. A ship the size of a destroyer could be crewed by as few as thirty
people with the designs we're looking at now.”

 “Thirty? We need almost four hundred to crew a ship
like the Bastion right now. It might be considered a destroyer compared to
Rampart,” Kri observed.

 “Imagine being able to operate twelve or thirteen
ships with the same crew. So far we're getting a lot of resistance from
logistics. They still can't get their heads wrapped around how much these ships
can be automated. We might manage to squeeze the crew down to sixty or so. That
would provide a lot of redundancy of expertise and still maintain optimal
fighting ability on board. So it would still be six or seven to one. A ship
like Rampart, which has a crew of over a thousand could be maintained by a crew
of less than two hundred. More than half of that would be Marines.”