Exodus: Machine War: Book 2: Bolthole Page 7
“That doesn’t mean they’re stupid,” said Wittmore, who considered himself well read in the fields of computers and robotics. “There’s a reason they came waltzing in here and left. Something we’re not aware of. So we need to be careful here.”
“They might have been looking for us,” said Gertrude, her eyes narrowing. “Sweeping space looking for places we might be. And, since they didn’t find any indication of us, they left.”
“But why not take out the planet? All they had to do was move around in hyper a bit, come back out, and launch on the planet That would have either killed the world, something we know they desire, or brought us out of hiding.”
“Conserving combat power,” offered the Commodore. “It seemed like a large force to us, but they have no idea what we might have knocking around this region of space. They could be looking for us, and are determined to have enough force to get something back to their homeworlds with the information. They could mark this primitive world for later disposal.”
Later disposal, thought the General with a shudder. Of course they would think that way.
“I want you to keep all ships close to the planet,” he told the Fleet officer, looking her in the eyes. “Nothing is to boost around the system for the next couple of days, while your sensor chiefs scan for anything unusual. Just in case they left something behind to monitor us.”
“Yes, sir. I understand, and I concur with your thinking.”
But if they left something behind, it might be stealthed enough that we don’t have a hope of picking it up, thought the General, looking back at the system holo.
* * *
KLASSEK SPACE.
There were ten of the objects left behind in the system. Each was a cylinder of about a thousand tons mass, basically all sensors and power plant, with enough grabber power to move at ten gravities if needed. And a brain almost as advanced as that on the four million ton vessels that had dropped them. The Machines might not have gestalt, but they had mastered the art of making very small, very powerful computing units. They had similar capabilities to a human destroyer when it came to their sensory suite. And, because of their small size, they were undetectable at any range over a light second while boosting at one gee.
Now they boosted out along ten different vectors that would bring them to the same number of locations in the systems. There they would sit and wait, and watch. And when another ship of their kind came to the system, they would send them everything they had gathered.
Chapter Five
What interests me is the sense of the darkness that we carry within us, the darkness that’s akin to one of the principal subjects of the sublime - terror.
Anish Kapoor
SUPERSYSTEM, FEBRUARY 23rd, 1002.
“The first of the Klassekians have arrived, your Majesty,” reported Grand High Admiral Sondra McCullom, the Chief of Naval Operations. “We’ve already got them in training.”
Sean Ogden Lee Romanov, Sean the First, Emperor of the New Terran Empire, the bastion established by the refugees from the Ca’cadasans who had established themselves in this area a thousand years prior to become the mightiest power in this region, looked over at his wife with a smile on his face. “The first group has arrived,” he said with a smile. She didn’t need to ask him what he was talking about, since that was all he had been talking about since they had discovered the singular aliens.
“We have enough to train up as com wizards for the new inertialess fighters wings we are forming,” said McCullom, her own tone one of a child excited at opening a new present. “Hopefully the next batch will come through in a couple of days, and we’ll have enough to fill out the wings already deployed.”
And then we’ll have a lot of com techs to reassign, thought the Emperor. Not that any of them will be heartbroken on reassignment to other Fleet ships, the larger the better. “And then you’ll start getting them aboard other ships?”
“Your Majesty. We’ve already gone over this time and again. The fighters are a priority. We have no other way of communicating with them when they are in their bubble.
“And we still don’t know if it will even work,” continued McCullom, saying the words slowly to the over excited Emperor.
“It’s got to work,” cried Sean. It’s got to work. The inertialess fighter was an advanced system that could actually pass the speed of light by warping out of the Universe. It was undetectable until it struck, and had the potential to be a devastating weapon against the Cacas. In fact, it had proven itself in the trap Sean had set for the Caca fleet that had invaded the Empire, but had been slightly less effective in the counterstrike he had launched against them soon after. The problem had been coordinating the fighter wings, vectoring onto targets that were themselves changing their own vectors. The quantum entanglement of these aliens seemed to be a solution to the problem, but one they had yet to test. And if it didn’t work? Then we still have com wizards who can communicate among themselves across almost unlimited expanses of space, instantaneously, he thought, the smile back on his face.
“We will begin testing them tomorrow, your Majesty,” said McCullom after waiting a moment for the Emperor to speak. “We’ll put some sibling groups into fighters, go into warp, and see what happens.”
“Keep me informed, Admiral,” said Sean, then killed the holo.
“What’s wrong?” asked Jennifer, putting a hand on his forearm.
“The Admiral just reminded me that we won’t know if the aliens will work trying to communicate from warp until they test them tomorrow.”
“And if they can’t communicate from warp?”
“Then they will be of no use to us in the inertialess fighters.”
“But you can still use them in other ships?” When Sean nodded she smiled. “So, what you’re worried about is that they might not do the thing you want them to do, but they will still be a major asset to you if they don’t. Every ship in the Fleet can be tied into an instantaneous com net.”
“True. But it will help us to make the fighters the superweapon we need them to be.”
“You’ve got some of the smartest people in the Empire working on weapons’ research,” said Jennifer, rubbing his arm. “If you can’t use the aliens in the fighters, I’m sure they’ll find some way to put them yo use, something the Cacas are going to hate. And they’ll come up with something else for the fighters.”
“Of course they will,” said Sean, pasting a smile on his face. If only it were so easy to just come up with whatever we needed. If only it was that easy.
* * *
BOLTHOLE, FEBRUARY 24th, 1002.
“What’s the status of our visitors?” asked Vice Admiral Rosemary Gonzales, striding into the Control Center on the Bolthole defense station, a couple of hundred kilometers out from the huge metallic asteroid that was twelve hundred kilometers in diameter. She had been called out of retirement to head up the command of the Bolthole system defense, both because of her tactical expertise, and her years of heading up R & D and construction projects.
“Still out there in hyper, ma’am,” said the duty officer who was in charge of monitoring all system traffic, and the presence of traffic that was not wanted or desired. “I’m not really sure what they’re up to.”
Gonzales shook her head, feeling the headache of sleep deprivation coming on. She hadn’t gotten in a good night since getting here and having the responsibility of the system handed over to her. There were twenty million people in the system. Closer to twenty-one million with the Klassekian refugees and the Fleet personnel who had just arrived.
She had really expected this to be an easy assignment, guarding the system against either pirates or low tech civilizations out to flex their muscle. She hadn’t expected to find herself in charge of a system under siege. With a total of the one out of date battleship, which she had brought with her, four battle cruisers, one still in docks undergoing extensive repairs, two heavy cruisers, one also almost a wreck, six light cruisers and fourteen destroyers
. Enough to hold off those pirates and lower tech conquerors, but probably not a Machine Empire with a hatred for humanity. If they could hate, that is.
It might be easier to defend if the Bolthole asteroid was the only target. But she also had the one almost habitable planet, Tethys, which had been wiped clean of life ten thousand years prior by an asteroid. Now it was undergoing the minimal terraforming needed to make it a living world once again. Fifty thousand Imperial citizens were working on that project, which was expected to take another year. Eventually the planet would become a paradise rest and recreation center for the system. Now it was a world still high in carbon dioxide and low in oxygen. Huge plants were processing the air still, but most of the personnel had been moved back to the asteroid. Closer to the star were antimatter production satellites, still manned and running, since that material was vital if they were going to power any of the ships and weapons they were trying to frantically build.
The gas giants had orbiting gas mines, also abandoned at the moment, and at the edge of the system was the icy body they had been converting into a supermetal production facility. Part of it was up and running, enough to give them a trickle of supermetals for the new construction. Continuing construction of the facility was suspended, only the personnel needed to keep cranking out product still there.
So Henare concentrated the people, making it easier to defend them, but because of that we’re falling behind on getting this project up and running. That was a serious concern. Soon they would have a wormhole gate, and within a year the population of the system was to double, then double again the year after. The eventual goal was to have five hundred million people working in the heaviest industrialized shipbuilding system in the Empire.
“Admiral Henare on the com for you, ma’am,” called out the tech manning the communications station.
“Send it to my personal holo,” she ordered the tech. A moment later she was looking at the face of her superior officer, Admiral Anaru Henare, his heavily tattooed face, the traditional markings of his Maori people, as attention getting as it was sometimes frightening.
“I have some good news, Rosemary,” said the Admiral with a smile.
“Lord knows I could do with some, sir.”
“I know. Those bastards are still out there, driving us all crazy. But Mr. Hartmann is reporting that twenty-seven of those fast attack craft are ready for deployment, ahead of schedule, missiles loaded. Do you have crew picked out for them?”
“Yes, sir,” she replied, thinking of the crews that would be pulled from the other assets in her force. Along with some of the Klassekians who would be their com wizards. Those, of course, did not have sufficient training to actually be called spacers. She already had a couple of them assigned to all of her ships, giving her the advantage of instantaneous com. And all of them were just about disasters aboard ship, getting in the way, not moving properly about the vessels during emergency drills. Not their fault, but something that couldn’t be rectified at this time. “We can sure use them. And the other twenty-three?”
“Probably another couple of days on that, Admiral. But we’re starting to lay down new hulls in the now vacated docks.”
And that will take another couple of weeks, which I’m not sure we have, thought Gonzales. She looked over at another holo, where the incomplete and unnamed battle cruiser was being melded into a ten kilometer wide nickel iron asteroid to form a near invulnerable battle station. It would not be fast, it would not be maneuverable, but it would be able to handle just about anything thrown at it. For a time. And it’s still more than a week from completion.
“What we need is a wormhole, Admiral,” she said to her superior. “At least one, a personnel gate, and preferably a ship gate as well.”
“There is supposed to be one on the way,” replied Henare. “When? Your guess is as good as mine. Meanwhile, we make do with what we have. We are expected to hold this system, and protect its assets. And that is what we are going to do. Understood, Admiral”
“Yes, sir. I will do my best, as I am sure will the people under me.”
“And that’s all they can ask of any of us,” said Henare. “Henare out.”
The holo blanked, leaving Gonzales to her own thoughts for a moment, staring at the tactical holo that was displaying what they knew about the intruders, which was not a lot.
* * *
“We’ll reach the hyper VI barrier in two hours, Admiral,” reported Commander van der Griff, the Flag Navigation Officer.
“Any change to our escorts?” asked Nguyen, looking over at his Flag Tactical Officer, Commander Anton von Godstedder.
There were about thirty of what they had termed Machine ships, since that seemed the logical explanation for who they were. The Admiral thought maybe the term Machine ships was inaccurate, since they really didn’t have a crew, but were in fact simply machines. As far as they could tell, the enemy vessels were all much smaller than any of his four battle cruisers, though four were about the same mass as his heavy cruisers, maybe slightly larger. Of the rest, twelve of them were a million tons, while the rest were in the four to five hundred thousand ton range. His forty-six million plus tons against their twenty-seven. And they had learned that the Imperial ships were at least as capable as they were, probably a bit more powerful per tonnage, despite having to haul around the life support and quarters for organic beings. The machines could use that mass for other things, like weapons, fields and propulsion, which almost made up for the tech gap.
They forged on for over an hour before there was any change to the pursuit profile. And it was something the humans were not expecting.
“Whoa,” exclaimed the Tactical Officer as a dozen more vessels appeared on the holo, coming up from the port stern. The machines would be able to accelerate after them, then decel enough to avoid the barrier in a profile the Imperial ships couldn’t match.
“Can they catch us before we get to the barrier?” he asked the Tactical Officer, trying to determine the possibility in his head.
The Tactical Officer started running the figures through his board, the input of commands taking much longer than the digestion and analysis of the data. “They can catch us, but they will not be able to avoid the barrier.”
Which means they would have a high probability of being destroyed in catastrophic translation. But would they really care, if they are even capable of caring? It will all be cold calculation for them. If they think the return is worth it, they will try to catch us and damage some of my ships, if they can make some of us hit the barrier and catastrophically translate as well.
Time passed, the enemy ships drawing closer, until they were within missile range of even the destroyer class hyper capable missiles, which only had fifteen minutes flight duration in hyper.
“Calculate a firing solution on those ships and open fire on them,” he ordered the Tactical Officer, then looked over at his Com Officer. “Send that order to all ships. All ships are to fire half their load of hyper capable missiles at that force, timed to arrive along with this vessel’s.”
The acknowledgements came back, and Nguyen leaned back in his chair and continued to watch the enemy ships. The rest of the pursuer were also accelerating, but it didn’t look like they were about to go past the point of no return to kill a few human ships.
“Firing,” called out the Tactical Officer, and fifty-two green vector arrows appeared on the plot, decelerating so they would drop behind the also decelerating human force.
The Admiral waited for the enemy response. He expected a counter launch, some kind of response, but there was nothing. What the hell are they up to? thought the Admiral, wishing he had some experienced Fleet officers aboard with more current tactical knowledge. They were explorers, not trained for large task force combat. They were expected to defend themselves on exploration missions, taking out the occasional pirate or chasing off a lower tech force. With equal or greater tech civilizations, they were expected to be diplomats. But this foe was not into discussio
n.
The minutes passed, the task force getting closer to the hyper barrier as their missiles continued to decelerate in a closing profile with the enemy. Still no response from the enemy. If it had been an organic controlling that force, they surely would have at least sent a few weapons their way. They were running out of time to make that response, every second reducing the odds that their missiles would get to the human force before running into the barrier.
“Missile impact in two minutes,” called out the Tactical Officer, as the green icons got closer to the enemy pursuers, closing mostly due to the velocity of those ships.
There was really nothing to say, and the only sound on the bridge was the Tactical Officer counting down to impact first in fifteen second, then, after passing the one minute mark, in five second gradations. At the ten second mark some of the missiles disappeared from the plot, then more every second as the enemy ships took them under counter fire. The Admiral had no way of telling what that fire was, but since there were no graviton emission tracking material objects leaving the targeted vessels, he had to assume it was laser or particle beams. Over half the missiles were gone, leaving twenty-three still inbound.
“Impact,” yelled out the Tactical Officer, as the vector arrows of eighteen missiles and three enemy ships faded from the plot. Some of the green vector arrows continued past the enemy force, still decelerating, trying to change their vector for a return to the targets they had missed. They didn’t have a chance of making it.