There was a general murmur of agreement. Admiral Brin accepted the idea and added it to their very short list of solutions. Now that the ice had been broken, ideas and suggestions were beginning to surface. The group continued to throw ideas back and forth for the next two hours. Several other suggestions were made, considered, then discarded as being unworkable. At the end of the meeting only a few usable ideas emerged.
The tactical computers were then queried and simulations were run. The results were promising. Petty Officer Stevens' suggestion had considerable odds of success but it would require the redeployment and possible upgrading of hundreds of thousands of missiles. The logistics of moving so many weapons was complex but the plans were made. The redeployment of the fleets also seemed to improve the odds.
During the planning phase of her suggestion, Petty Officer Stevens amazed the assembled brass by coming up with yet another brilliant idea. The group had been discussing how best to quickly move the missiles from deep within the Alliance to the outer worlds. The time required to transport the missiles, even by the fastest ships, was measured in weeks.
“Why not use Falnath’s jump drive?” she innocently asked.
As if addressing someone who had just asked the dumbest question possible, Admiral Wiles replied, “Because no such ships yet exist.”
Looking him square in the eye Stevens replied, “The prototype works. Use that.”
Admiral Brin found himself having to work very hard to keep from laughing. He was starting to really like this impudent woman from Earth. “We will have to check with Falnath to see if her prototype can be used as a cargo transport.”
An hour later Falnath’s reply came through. The prototype was a very small ship but the field generator that was the heart of the jump drive could create a much larger field. Special racks could be attached to the exterior of the ship and loaded with missiles. It was beginning to look like the Alliance might be able to at least slow the Chroniech advance perhaps enough to give the factories time to rearm their ships with the more advanced weapons.
* * * * *
“The breach generator is repaired and realignment to the new field specifications has been completed,” a field supervisor reported. “We have commenced charging of all accumulators.”
“Excellent work!” the Commander replied. Glancing over to another screen he continued, “The breach ships will be here in less than a day. How long before we can breach?”
“All power accumulators should be at full charge in 32 hours. It will require another three hours to form the breach. The breach ships are recharging their own field generators so there should be no time delay between the completion of the breach and the destruction of the Kyrra field generator.”
“Excellent! I will inform central command that the invasion should be able to begin in 35 hours.”
Supreme Fleet Commander Aruthra was pleased with the news. It had been quite the roller coaster ride these last few weeks. It had started weeks ago with the news that the breach generator had passed the low power tests. Then the sudden, inexplicable brief dropping of the field by the Kyrra which had allowed one of the breach ships to move into Alliance space.
Elated that one breach ship was in Alliance space, the tension built as the breach generator prepared to send the second ship through. When it successfully created a breach, there had been cheers of success. The almost immediate dropping of the field was unexpected and caused a deep sense of disappointment because it meant that the Kyrra super ship would not be destroyed as expected. It also indicated that the Kyrra not only had detected the breach but had also been aware of the implications. The good news though was that the invasion could begin early.
The Kyrra, however, once again surprised them by reestablishing their hyperdimensional field only this time at a much larger diameter. Aruthra knew enough about such generators to know that changing the size of the field, especially one as large as the one the Kyrra were generating, was no easy task. The breach generator had to be recalibrated because of the new field size. The good news was that the odds of the generator being able to form an even larger field were quite slim.
Things were starting to look up again. The breach generator was powering up and the invasion fleets had been assembled. Something in the back of his mind, however, was bothering the Fleet Commander. After a moment of mental searching he found it – the Captain of his brother’s ship, one of the new heavy destroyers, had a major problem on his hands.
Honor was not something the Chroniech took lightly – especially when it involved the lives of their mates and children. It was what bound the Chroniech together and defined them as a people. Honor had served them well for hundreds of centuries and now was not the time to abandon it. The question though was whether or not honor applied to the enemy. The enemy had done something completely unexpected and those who knew about it wanted to know why.
Only a handful of people knew of Captain Zatch’s predicament and none of them would have traded positions with him for any sum of money or offer of power. It was starkly inconceivable that the Alliance had done what they did. No Chroniech would have hesitated for even an instant to have killed the survivors had their positions been reversed. Honor demanded that certain actions be taken. But did honor apply in this case? Only Captain Zatch's conscience could answer that. The decision concerning what to do was completely up to him.
The Supreme Fleet Commander had done all he could for Captain Zatch. Every ship in the fleet had been ordered to keep a lookout for the particular ship the Captain was now searching for. He had also included a strong recommendation to not engage the ship in combat as its capture was of more importance than its destruction. That and temporarily releasing the Captain from all duties was all the Fleet Commander could do.
Disaster at Cornelius
“We are approaching Cornelius,” the helm announced.
“Very well,” Captain Sheppard replied. Activating the hy-trans, as the Kyrra instantaneous transceiver had become known, she then put herself in touch with one of the Kyrra remotely operating the warships in formation with the
Dragon
.
“Captain Sheppard,” the furry face said as soon as the connection had been established. “How may I help you?”
“We are approaching the Cornelius star system. Have your sensors detected any sign of Chroniech ships?”
“Our sensors remain clear. There are no Chroniech ships in the area.”
“Very well. I’m taking us to battle stations just in case. Let us know if you spot anything unusual.”
The sensors remained clear of enemy ships as the fleet slowed to enter the star system. Not long after dropping into normal space the bad news started arriving. The first indication something was wrong was the lack of response from their long-range hails. As they got closer the sensors confirmed that no power sources were in operation.
The surface of the planet showed the unmistakable scars of planetary bombardment from orbit by heavy energy weapons. All major settlements and population centers had been reduced to slag. It appeared as if the Chroniech had limited their attack to non-nuclear weapons. The fleet settled into orbit and probes were sent down to quickly scan the surface for survivors.
After several hours of searching, the probes were recalled. Either there were no survivors or they were either unable or unwilling to respond to the constant hails. Over 900,000 people had once called Cornelius home. It now appeared as if the planet had a population of zero.
Based upon the fact that Cornelius was located 1.3 light years from the hyperdimensional barrier, Captain Sheppard had decided to remain in orbit until the barrier was dropped. This would give any survivors that may have been in hiding the chance to make themselves known so they could be picked up. The fleet spread itself out in widely separated orbits with the hopes of detecting any calls for help.
* * * * *
Stricklen was dead asleep when the alarm klaxon went off. For a split second he was confused and didn’t know where he was. His many years of military service, however, kicked in as his brain quickly set aside the dream he had been having and focused on reality. Jumping out of his rack as the lights automatically came on he started throwing on his clothes and at the same time said, “Dragon, status!”
Before the computer could reply, the entire frame of the ship shuddered. Stricklen broke into a cold sweat – the only thing that could create such a shudder was a very close explosion that had managed to at least partially breach the shield. Instantly, the general quarters alarm was replaced by a more ominous sound – a loud shrieking noise indicating there had been a loss of hull integrity in his area.
Stricklen tossed the shirt he was about to throw on aside and reached for his emergency vacuum suit. The air pressure indicator above his door, a large multi-colored bar graph which normally indicated green, had moved into the yellow band and was visibly on its way toward the red end. The door controls indicated that the emergency seals had been activated and the pressure in his stateroom was normal.
The emergency vacuum suits were designed to be quickly donned and would fit most Humans or near Human life forms. It took Ken less than thirty seconds to pull the suit out of the locker, stuff himself into it, and seal it up. Walking over to the room’s com-station he threw the switch that silenced the alarm.
The air pressure indicator above the door had stopped moving but was still showing yellow. Although the suit would protect him from a vacuum it would be a very unwise idea for him to try to open his door – something the door’s control mechanism would prevent. He was trapped.
Stricklen glanced at the suit's HUD and noted that it had successfully linked with the ship's internal communications net. “Dragon, what is our status?” Because of the alarm and his focus on getting into his suit Ken didn’t know if the ship had responded to his request the first time. If it did, he hadn’t heard it.
“A cloaked HK activated 3.8 seconds after being detected and detonated a high yield nuclear warhead at a distance of 3,423 meters. Damage has been sustained to several areas of the ship.”
Stricklen needed to inform the bridge of his status. He depressed another button and waited. A few seconds later a voice he did not recognize said through the speaker, “Bridge, Petty Officer O’Conner.”
“This is Captain Stricklen. I am in my stateroom, unharmed, and suited. The door seal is holding with air pressure on the other side at unsafe levels.”
“Thank you Captain,” the voice replied. “We are dispatching damage control teams. Someone will contact you when it is safe to exit.” There was a slight click as the connection was broken.
Even though he desperately wanted more information Stricklen knew that now was not the time to pester the bridge with questions. Instead, he walked over to his computer terminal and said, “Dragon, display the damage to the ship.”
The screen came to life and displayed a section of the ship. Ken quickly took in the details. He had been lucky – very lucky. Staterooms and berthing compartments as well as supply rooms and other nonessential areas of the ship were located toward the hull. This arrangement provided a buffer space between the hull and the interior of the ship where the more vital equipment was located. There were exceptions, such as the Captain’s stateroom, which was always located near the bridge.
According to the ship’s internal monitoring system the hull had been breached only four frames forward of his stateroom. A section of the armored hull had buckled allowing the internal atmosphere to escape. A supply room and an emergency escape pod had also been damaged. Ken scanned the isometric graph of the radiation field from the explosion and was relieved to find that he had been subjected to less than five REM of radiation – not a good number but nothing to worry about.
Touching another icon Ken scanned the casualty report. Thankfully, it was short containing only three names. His heart stopped however when he read them. The list was alphabetical and the last one was that of Captain Sheppard. The status indicator next to her name showed yellow meaning she was currently marked as missing.
“Dragon, how can the Captain be listed as missing when you are aware of her whereabouts at all times?”
“The Captain was in the exercise room at the time of the explosion. Internal sensors in that area are offline. Based upon the damage there is a high probability that the Captain is deceased, however, this has not been confirmed.”
Ken didn’t have to look at the display to recall where the exercise room was in relation to the damage they had received. That room was where the hull plating had buckled and it would most likely have depressurized almost immediately. There was no doubt in Ken’s mind that Captain Sheppard was dead.
* * * * *
“Breach generator at full power,” the technician at the master control console announced.
“Initiate!” the Commander ordered then turned to his own console. A moment later the face of Supreme Fleet Commander Aruthra appeared on the center screen.
As soon as the connection had been established the Commander said, “Supreme Fleet Commander, the breach generator has been activated. With the improvements that have recently been incorporated we should be able to breach the barrier within two hours and keep it open long enough for both breach ships to pass through.”
“This is excellent news Commander,” Aruthra replied not bothering to hide his joy at receiving the good news. “I will alert the fleet.”
Aruthra had much to be happy about. He had just received a report from a hunter-killer that had been left in orbit around one of the Alliance planets that had been included in the expanded barrier. The information squirt just prior to the detonation of the HK’s warhead had reported the presence of several Kyrra warships and the Alliance warship that Captain Zatch had been searching for. Unbelievably, that very same warship had been the one to wander within the HK’s trigger boundary.