Winds of Vengeance (34 page)

Will my weakness cost you your life…cost me the person closer to me than anyone I have ever known? I am pushing the fleet, perhaps even beyond reason. I am doing all I can to get to you…but I can do nothing but sit here and hope we are in time. Hope that I have saved you from the doom my own failure has threatened to bring on you…and all those who serve with you.

I sit here thinking of our last moments together before you left…if the words we exchanged will be the final ones between us. They were so inadequate, so incomplete. My mind is awash now with things I would have said, should have said. I know you are sure of my affection, as I am of yours. Yet, I fear you cannot understand the full intensity of what you have come to mean to me. I make my appeal to whatever unknown forces decide the fates of spacers like us. If one of us must die because of my weakness, my failure, let it be me. I have faced death many times, escaped by the barest of margins. I have seen many good men and women die, too many. If the survival of our people must claim another, let it be me…and not you.

Bridge – E2S Constitution

System G35

Earth Two Date 01.03.31

“I want those systems up and running now.” Erika West sat in center of
Constitution’s
flag bridge like a marble statue, cold, unyielding. The Pilgrims on her staff had seen her like this before, or at least heard stories from those who had. But the younger officers sat in stunned shock, struggling to face the withering intensity of her commands.

Erika West was a legend in the fleet, one whose own accomplishments shone even through the blinding light of Terrance Compton’s achievements. She had been Compton’s right hand, loyal to the finish, and her skills in battle matched those of her mentor. West had commanded the republic’s navy as long as there had been a republic, and throughout that time, no one would have called her soft or undemanding. But her peacetime demeanor had given way, replaced by the raw force of the pure warrior the veterans who had seen her in battle remembered.

“Yes, Admiral…the AI is rebooting. Estimate forty seconds to full operation.” Elsa Wagner had seen West in action before, or, more accurately, she had heard her on the com during battle. Wagner had been a young ensign, months out of the Academy when she’d been assigned to
Saratoga
, arriving eleven days before the fleet was trapped behind the Barrier. Barret Dumont had flown his flag from the Yorktown class battlewagon, and she’d been terrified of the stern old admiral. But then Dumont was killed in action, and Erika West arrived to take his place. Wagner remembered the terror she had felt at the mere presence of the new commander. She could still recall her first glimpse of West, hair short, neat…her uniform spotless, crisp, as if a wrinkle wouldn’t dare show itself.

Wagner was a commander now, and she had worked for years alongside the admiral who had once inspired such primal fear in her. She’d been a key aide to both of the navy’s top officers, and West had chosen her as fleet tactical officer for the rescue mission. The assignment hadn’t come as a complete surprise, but she was still relieved when she got the word. She was very fond of Admiral Frette, and she had been eager to serve in the fleet being sent to her aid.

The assignment made her
Constitution’s
exec as well. The admirals in the old fleet had relied on flag captains to skipper their flagships, but with the massively reduced crew complements on the republic’s vessels, it had become standard for a fleet commander to run his or her own ship as well.

“AI coming up now, Admiral…” Wagner’s voice was crisp, professional. Decades of working alongside Erika West had rubbed off on her, and she had acquired her own reputation for being a bit of a cold fish. It wasn’t a fair assessment, not really…but then it wasn’t in West’s case either, and the admiral had been putting up with it for more than forty years.

“Reactor online…scanning systems operational.” She paused, her eyes darting down to her screens. She knew the AI could feed all the information she needed directly into her mind, but the headset sat on its hook, unused. Wagner was an old school officer, slow to adopt radical new technology. She shared that trait with West, who she’d never seen wearing her own AI link. “We’re getting confirmations from the other ships, Admiral. All units coming online.” She was still getting used to the dual responsibility of monitoring both
Constitution
itself, and the rest of the fleet as well.

“I want full scans, Commander. Active and passive. I want a thorough study of every scrap of debris we can find.” The systems the fleet had passed through since leaving Earth Two had been mostly empty, nothing more than a hint of an energy trail to show that Frette’s forces had come this way. But system G35 was different. The communique delivered by
Cyclone
had been clear about the location of the battle Frette’s people had fought.

“Yes, Admiral. All ships initiating scans.” Wagner’s eyes dropped to the screen, staring, waiting for any data to come in from the sensors. She knew the AI would alert her to any findings, but she looked down anyway. There were fifty-seven ships in the fleet, and every one of them was banging away with active scanners. If there were any First Imperium ships in the system now, the fleet was advertising its presence.

“I want maximum dispersal patterns. Task groups are to engage thrusters, fan out in search pattern delta-2.” West’s words were like cold granite, not a hint of doubt. But Wagner had come to know the admiral well enough to realize that a fair portion of her legendary coldness was an act. Erika West expected to find trouble, if not in this system then in one ahead. Wagner was sure of that…and she agreed completely.

She was nervous. Spreading the fleet out into small search groups was risky. If they were attacked it would take time to get the whole force back into an effective combat formation…time they might not have. But it wasn’t her decision, and Erika West knew what she was doing.

“Yes, Admiral.” A few seconds later. “All units acknowledge.” Wagner leaned back and took a deep breath. They were searching for small traces of evidence, for anything that might give them a better idea of the battle Frette’s fleet had fought…and finding that was likely to take a while.

Her eyes darted down to her screen, and she snapped bolt upright. She’d expected to wait hours, but now the data was pouring in…reports from the other ships, and a torrent of information from
Constitution’s
own scanners.

“Admiral, we have scanner reports coming in from all across the fleet.”

West snapped her head around, clearly as surprised as Wagner at the early data. “Analysis?”

Wagner felt edgy, West’s intensity adding to the tension she already felt from the surprise scanner readings. Her fingers moved over her keyboard, entering instructions, executing a full AI review of the data coming in. But she didn’t need the analysis…it was rapidly becoming clear to her what had happened here.

“The battle.” The words just blurted out of her mouth…but now that they did, she went with it. “We’ve got definite debris from the battle, Admiral. High levels of residual radiation, heavy concentrations of heavy metals…even some large chunks of debris.” She turned and looked right at West. “There is no doubt.”

“Very well, Commander.” West’s tone was steady, seemingly unaffected by the news. “Continue scans…and launch a spread of probes to gather some samples. I want those chunks of destroyed ships analyzed…every one of them.”

*    *    *

Achilles stood and stared at the shard of twisted metal on the laboratory table in front of him. It looked much like a chunk from any ship’s hull, most likely part of a section that had been blown outward at a high enough velocity to escape vaporization when the ship it had been part of was consumed by the escaping energies of a fusion reactor or a magazine full of antimatter. To look at it, the remnant could have been from either a human ship, or one of the First Imperium’s vessels.

The Mule watched as the rays of the spectral analyzer moved over the sample, its normally invisible light reflecting off the metal as a faint indigo glow. The AI would confirm it in a few seconds, but the color of the light told Achilles all he needed to know. The debris was from a First Imperium vessel. The two powers used similar alloys, but the First Imperium hulls were infused with dark matter, and the knowledge behind its utilization was still a mystery to human science, despite years of research by the Mules. But the indigo spectral halo was a dead giveaway.

“Another First Imperium fragment.” He turned and looked down the table toward Callisto. “We’re running almost twenty to one. Admiral Frette’s report didn’t exaggerate. She crushed the enemy fleet…at least in this system.”

Callisto turned and returned his gaze, offering a smile as she did.

He returned the smile, his eyes fixed on her.

She is magnificent, in every way…as she has always been…

Callisto and Achilles had been lovers intermittently throughout their adult lives. He’d always considered her beautiful, indeed everyone who had ever seen her did. All of the Mules were close to human physical ideals, but even among her genetically-engineered brethren, Callisto was special. Her hair was almost silver, and her eyes blue-gray. But beyond her physical charms, she was smart, even by the standards of the Mules. Her intellect had always been part of what had attracted him to her. She was bold, adventurous, not at all constrained by academic process or fear of being proven wrong. She was independent, defiant…and she was without fatigue in the pursuit of knowledge. Her mind sliced ahead, with the boldness the great admirals had shown in combat.

The Mules did not pair off as most of the other humans did. They did not condemn the humans for their bonding rituals, but they considered themselves above it all. Incapable of reproducing, they lacked any imperative to form family units…and they had much stronger senses of self than the others, at least that is how they looked at themselves. They took pride in independence, but also in the sense of community among their small group.

She held her smile for a few seconds more. The Mules weren’t above feeling affection for each other, and it was clear Callisto was glad Achilles had included her when he’d proposed the Mules send a research team with the fleet. But then her grin slipped away, replaced by an earnest look. “Achilles, I’ve been running some size and projected mass computations based on the fragments. This debris, all of it, comes from relatively small vessels…and that confirms the lack of heavy units in the enemy force.”

“So what does that tell you?” He wasn’t sure he knew where she was going. They already knew Admiral Frette had fought against a task force without any heavy vessels.

“Well, obviously that Admiral Frette faced a fleet composed entirely of light vessels, which of course we already knew from her report. But extrapolating from that, I surmise that there are indeed heavier units located elsewhere, perhaps farther down the line of advance Frette’s fleet followed.”

The assertion seemed like a wild guess, but Achilles knew his old lover didn’t make wild guesses. Anything that came out of her mouth was the result of hard calculation.

“This was a large force to consist entirely of light units, but Admiral West’s speculation could be correct.” He frowned. The general consensus in the fleet was that Frette had encountered an exploratory force that had been deployed beyond the borders of the imperium when the Regent was destroyed and had only just returned. He didn’t believe it any more than he thought Callisto did, but he didn’t have an alternate theory either.

“I was initially working under that hypothesis, but I no longer believe it to be the case.”

“You know I am doubtful too, but I am as yet unable to offer an alternative explanation. Are you?”

“Perhaps. I believe I can offer some evidence-based determinations, though much of my end conclusion remains speculative.”

“Please…share your analysis with me.”

“I have performed some additional tests on these samples, and I have obtained some interesting results. First among these is that the spectral analysis shows considerably higher concentrations of dark matter in these alloys than we have seen in the older fragments back on Earth Two.”

Achilles, stared down at the workstation in front of him, punching at the small keyboard. His eyes widened as the result was displayed. Callisto was right. There was almost thirty percent more dark matter in the new samples.

“How do you explain the difference?”

She paused. “You are aware that we have long suspected that the First Imperium’s binding process, the technology they used to infuse the dark matter into their hulls, was imperfect, that over time particles of the dark matter would slowly bleed off?”

“Yes…but that is based on considerable speculation. We have a limited quantity of First Imperium wreckage to experiment with…and no alternate way of establishing an estimated age for each specimen.”

“That is true, Achilles. But I submit we now have the basis for expanding the theory. The variance in dark matter concentration on all prior samples has been small, less than one percent from the highest to the lowest reading.”

Achilles turned and walked toward Callisto, looking down at the screen in front of her. “You believe the vessels Admiral Frette encountered are newer than those that produced the fragments we already possess?” It was half question, half statement.

“Far newer. Indeed, let us assume First Imperium ship production ended roughly five hundred thousand years ago. That would mean that the newest ship faced in the war in human space and during the fleet’s journey was half a million years old.”

“That is in keeping with all active theories about the First Imperium…and it is corroborated by the records we found on Earth Two.”

“Yes…and now we calculate for the previously noted differences in dark matter concentrations. We must estimate the normal use and replacement schedule for a First Imperium warship before the Ancients fell. The Alliance had a fifty to sixty-year useful cycle for vessels, with ships remaining in front line service for roughly half that time. But First Imperium ships obviously had a longer useful life, a conclusion that is clear since so many were still functional five hundred thousand years after the last was constructed. So let us assume a thousand-year turnaround under normal conditions.” She paused then added, “I understand that is an estimate unsupported by direct facts, but it seems reasonable.”