First Contact (Galactic Axia Adventure) (4 page)

“Again, I say good choice,” the instructor replied. “The rough surface would give the survivors protecting cover.”

He noticed Leatha nod her agreement. “I also want the commend Mr. Eagleman on some nice flying.”

Several students murmured their agreement.

“You are the first class to ever make it to the surface alive,” the instructor continued. “Most are either vaporized in space or splatter themselves on the surface when the power fails.” The look of surprise of their faces was quite a delight to the instructor.

“Now, let’s break for lunch,” Berlon said as he stood up. “We’ll watch the rest of this later.” The students got up and headed out of the classroom. After being put through the wringer on the simulator, they all had a heightened appetite.

Berlon followed his charges out and closed the door behind him. Just then another instructor rounded the corner. “So how did they handle your new simulation program, Berlon?”

“Not too bad, Drave,” Berlon answered, turning down the hall toward the mess hall. “Trooper Eagleman figured out a few new wrinkles for landing the thing.”

“He actually got it down?” Drave asked in surprise. “That’s a first. How did he manage to pull it off?”

“It was the craziest thing I’ve ever seen,” Berlon replied. “He had only five seconds of power left when he was ten seconds from landing, so he chopped the drive completely and let the ship freefall. Then, just above the ledge, he applied full power and used the last of the drive thrust to cushion the landing. It was still rough and he destroyed the simulator, but they made it down alive!”

Drave let out a low whistle. “That’s some slick flying!” he said. “I shouldn’t be surprised though. His training marks on real time have been outstanding.”

“He hasn’t done badly on the survey training either,” Berlon answered as they reached the mess hall.

As the two instructors stepped into line, the students that had just finished with the simulator were sitting down together at a table off to the one side. Berlon noticed that their experience that morning seemed to set them apart from the other students present—a difference they were not likely aware of yet but a difference none-the-less. When the instructor passed their table he could hear them vigorously rehashing this last scenario while they ate.

“That wasn’t fair to have a second Red-tail hit us out of nowhere,” one trooper said between bites. “It wasn’t like real life at all!”

“Who said life is fair?” Leatha answered. “Remember, space is indifferent and doesn’t play favorites.”

“I thought we were goners for sure when you cut the drive!” Ean said, pointing at Delmar. Delmar just waved him off and took another bite. His mind already on other things, Delmar was just as happy when the conversation changed to a different subject.

Ever since he’d entered flight and survey school, Delmar had driven himself unmercifully. Although he knew he wasn’t a failure for transferring out of computer school on Mica, he still felt that somehow he had to prove he had what it took to overcome the stigma of failure that overshadowed him. Delmar had to prove to himself that he could succeed at something. To his own surprise, he had taken naturally to flight training. His primary instructor once commented that the ship had become an extension of his hands rather than just a machine to be controlled. The ten months since then had been a continual honing of that talent.

His parallel training in survey had proven more of a challenge, but with extra effort Delmar had finally gotten the hang of it. Having some experience with computers also helped. Jake Sender had been right. The service didn’t waste anything, especially its people.

Delmar refocused his attention on the conversation which had turned to fighting Red-tails. This was one subject that he and the woman, Leatha, tended to opt out on whenever it came up. But that really wasn’t surprising. Delmar and Leatha were the only two of this class who’d been in actual combat with Red-tails.

The suppositions of the uninitiated could be amusing at best, but also frequently brought back the cold memories of fear and death. Nearly two years after his experience in basic training, Delmar could still picture the faces of his eleven fellow trainees who’d been killed when their training mission had come under fire. The attack by Red-tails had been totally unexpected on that training cruise, and his training unit had shown itself capable. But it cost them dearly. The vision of the headless trooper at the controls of their transport ship still haunted his nightmares.

Before he knew it, the rest of Delmar’s class was getting up to return to class. Quickly finishing his last bites, Delmar rose and followed them to the disposal chute with his tray. As they walked back to class, Delmar let the others drift ahead still embroiled in their discussion of combat and tactics. Delmar was mildly surprised when Leatha fell in beside him. Their mutual status as combat veterans seemed to set them apart from the rest. Without a word, they walked on in companionable silence.

∞∞∞

It was late evening so only the night skeleton crew was on duty at the new radio telescope on Maranar. The final tests had been successfully completed hours earlier and the radio observatory was ready for full operation. According to the schedule, the day after tomorrow the site would begin an around-the-clock scan of the nearby planets to build a comprehensive map of their atmospheric elements.

One of the few scientists on duty checked his watch. After observing that none of the other night personnel were present, he quietly entered the control room of the radio telescope. Going over to the locked cabinet containing the antenna frequency controls, Dr. Oren used his pass key to gain access. Pulling a folded piece of paper out of a pocket in his lab coat, he consulted the scribbled figures written on the crumpled sheet. He carefully adjusted the frequency of the radio telescope and then activated the array.

Outside, the grid hummed and then settled down. With the flick of another switch Oren activated a bypass circuit that sent the signals received to a hidden recorder secreted elsewhere. He let the recorder run for fifteen minutes, being careful to watch for any of the other personnel.

Consulting his watch again, the scientist shut down the array and reset the frequency controls. He retrieved the disc from the hidden recorder then relocked the control cabinet. Exiting the control room unobserved, Dr. Oren resumed his rounds and tried to keep his pace slow and measured.

It had taken literally years of preparation to assemble the information contained on the small disc. The thought of having such a treasure-trove of information almost made the man giddy. With great effort, he managed to feign the boredom more typically seen on this shift. In just a few more hours he would have a chance to play the disc and start the process of deciphering its contents. But for the remainder of his shift, all Oren could do was feed his hopes with guarded speculation.

∞∞∞

Detachment Commander Tess consulted a holographic starmap in the main control room aboard the mothership for this sector. Her eye easily picked out the closed planet and its primary star just off center in the floating display. Small green lights marked the location of each of the assigned Watcher ships monitoring the planet. Some floated in stationary orbit where the radar used by the natives of the planet could not detect them. Others were hidden on two of the planet’s three moons. Since the natives were showing interest in their largest moon, the Axia ships naturally avoided it. Around this were the picket ships forming a protective sphere the Axia had established long ago.

The commander was pleased that the Axia took such care concerning the closed planets, especially ones they’d seeded with a human colony many generations ago, or where the Axia had lost contact during the Dark Times. Cosmically speaking, they were defenseless in what had become a hostile universe. As an enlisted Lady-of-the-Fleet, she had personally seen the depredations left by Red-tail attacks on unprotected planets near the rim. The slaughter of innocent civilians was horrific, and countless thousands more had been herded like cattle into transport ships to be taken wherever the Red-tails took their doomed captives.

Commander Tess was momentarily reliving a tragedy of so many years ago when two excited trooper-thirds entered the bridge. With a start she looked up to see their eager faces as they reported their presence.

“Yes? What is it?” she asked after she’d returned their salutes. Trooper-Third Diane Zubbe was normally on duty this shift, but the commander was surprised to see her male companion, T3 Tim Errel. His shift had ended hours ago and he should have been resting or asleep.

“Request permission to use the holographic display,” Diane said.

“What would be the nature of your use of it?”

“We’re testing a hypothesis of mine, commander. We want to plot a series of Red-tail sightings and project their trajectories.”

The commander thought for a moment. She always tried to encourage initiative among her junior enlisted personnel, and it had paid off handsomely more than once. Besides, this shift was in danger of being among the most boring in recent memory.

“Permission granted,” Tess agreed, “but only if you explain your hypothesis to me as you go.”

“Yes ma’am,” Diane replied. Tim removed a piece of paper from his pocket and crossed the bridge to the display controls where he input the data concerning the sightings.

“I’ve been bothered lately by all of the Red-tail sightings,” Diane began.

“We’ve all been bothered by the sightings,” Tess said. “There’s been a general increase for several months.”

“It wasn’t the number of them that bothered me, ma’am. It was the ones that we barely detected—those that were sometimes attributed to being sensor ghosts.” She looked over at her companion.

“I’m ready here,” Tim reported.  Diane nodded to him and then looked back at their commander.

“By sifting through the reports from the picket ships, we managed to glean out those few that fit our criteria,” she continued. “We were looking for the faintest of the sightings and then trying to plot their time and course from there.”

She gestured toward the display. One by one, red markers appeared in chronological order for each of the sightings. The commander watched patiently until more than a dozen markers appeared.

“We then plotted their observed courses,” Diane offered. She nodded toward her companion. Thin red lines appeared and ran almost parallel off the edge of the display. “Here’s where we needed the main holographic display,” Diane stated. “Permission to extend the field.” The commander nodded.

Immediately, the overall size of the sector shrank as the display changed to show the regions surrounding their sector. Markers appeared to identify neighboring sectors and their motherships. The display also adjusted to show the empty sectors where there were almost no star systems.

With a touch of the controls, Tim extended the thin red lines from where they’d stopped at the edge of their sector. They extended rapidly outward and began to converge near the center of one of the empty reaches of space where they all intersected precisely.

“Magnify,” the commander ordered the young man at the controls. She stepped into the holographic image and examined the intersection which rapidly grew in size displacing the rest of the display around it. Faint stars that normally didn’t show on the larger display began to appear. Finally, near the intersection of the red lines, there appeared a shrunken red dwarf and its single planet. All of the lines met just outside of the planet’s orbital plane. With a wave of her hand the commander stopped the magnification and froze the image.

Commander Tess studied the display for a moment while Tim held it steady. “Highlight it and then back it off a bit,” Tess said tersely.

Tim complied. A pulsating red globe took shape around the red dwarf and its planet and then shrank as the image shifted. Again, the edges of the surrounding sectors, including their own, appeared.

Tess backed away from the holographic display. “Show me the known positions of all battle-class cruisers and attack fighters,” she ordered, her eyes never leaving the small red globe. Slowly, small green lights appeared as the image projector highlighted the few ships meeting the criteria within their field of vision. Most were well away from the shrinking red globe.

Commander Tess paused for a moment and then came to a decision. She spoke to the trooper manning the comm equipment. “Make a copy of this field map and prepare it for transmission, deleting the location of all Galactic Axia ships, then forward it to Regional Fleet Command. We’ve got a big problem on our hands.” The comm operator nodded his understanding and began the compilation.

The commander turned to Diane and Tim. “Your suspicions appear well founded,” she said. “Good work. Now I want both of you to continue monitoring all of the scattered reports for further congregating of Red-tail ships. Request sighting reports from neighboring sectors if you have to. Top priority. Notify your department supervisor that I’ve pulled you for a special detail. We’ll need every scrap of information for the upcoming fight.” The couple looked at each other in amazement.

The commander turned from them as they headed off toward the records department. Tess stared again at the holographic display. Moving to the controls, she adjusted the settings to show all the sectors surrounding the throbbing red globe. Further adjustments showed her the position of all Axia ships, including the smallest patroller. There were still too few ships for her liking.

Timing would be critical in this engagement. If they waited for reinforcing fleets to arrive, the Red-tails could easily flee and scatter. To snuff out this group would take speed, daring, and surprise. She’d have to use all available ships now or let this opportunity slip away.

Chapter Three

The older man looked out the window of his small office. The morning was overcast and threatening rain but as senior scientist on duty, he knew it wouldn’t adversely affect the operation of the new radio telescope. Minor repairs on the grid had been completed and everything was as it should be. Dr. Garret donned the universal uniform of his profession; a white lab coat. With a final glance outside, he turned and headed down the hallway toward the main operations area.