Chapter 3: Ships in the Night
Author's Note:
A special thanks to ProfFartBurger for giving the world an interesting nickname for Mass Relays. If not for him, I'd be forced to use something far stupider.
Is an interesting mission too much to ask for? Admiral Litrinox sighed. It was the long, heavy sigh of a man too tired to moderate his boredom. His banner officers knew better than to react to such flagrant disregard for discipline. Today had been a bad day. Really, terrible was a better fit. Not in terms of military defeats or emotional turmoil, really just in terms of sheer lack of anything at all to do, it was terrible.
Litrinox was a man of action, of doing and moving and shaking till talons were worn and clan marks sunbleached. He'd worked tirelessly to reach his position, kissed and kicked ass from Palaven to Khar'Shan. The Admiral was a veteran of the Batarian "Police Actions," a hero (if you believed his versions of events) that deserved more than a quiet post in the Attican Traverse to cool his blood.
The only excitement that had managed to find its way into the ass-end of Citadel Space was the report of Batarian pirates raiding an Asari commune deep inside "no-go" territory. And yet, four days into an extensive search of all possible escape routes, and two after the Admiral had given up all sense of decorum, all they'd found were trace amounts of eezo and varren shit.
"Admiral, entering System 314 in 1 minute."
"Thank you helm." Litrinox somehow managed to edge the sarcasm from biting to simply sardonic, and surveyed the deck from his elevated position. Turian commanders prized the ability to watch over every officer's position, and Litrinox only rarely lost the pride he felt every time he surveyed the bridge of the Reticent. The dreadnought was the pride of the patrol fleet, in every sense of the word. 1100 meters long, the vessel's mass accelerator was nearly 95% the length of the ship, her armor meters thick, her… well, he could go on. Had gone on before, in the times where hours dragged. Now, he had at least something to do.
The Reticent lurched as it dropped back to subluminal speeds. "Sensors, get me a read out on-"
"Admiral, we have four unidentified ships on lo-scan, one is within green range. By the spirits! Relay 314 is online!" the woman tried to contain her shock.
Litrinox sat up straighter in his seat. "Even Batarians wouldn't be that foolish, the penalty is death if they're caught!"
"Looks like their eezo cores are shot sir, no sign of mass manipulation, usually a sign of a botched activation. Shall I hail them?"
"Sir, combat VIs have intercepted an electronic warfare package, looks like the closest ship tried to hack our language databases?"
"Then those slavers are even more stupid than I thought, no hails Comms, destroy them." The four cruisers and five frigates of the Turian patrol fired practically simultaneously, and the UNSC Grateful Live was turned into cooling chunks of metal before her crew even reacted to the shots.
Ava had been reviewing the scans taken from the 'Tuning Fork' as Zizka had taken to calling it, enjoying the ambient noise of a bridge hard at work. Not that what she was doing was of much use here, without bones, a real language, or new architecture she was left feeling a bit left out of the excitement. Which left her to document her initial findings in increasingly verbose ways.
Ava was trying to come up with a new way to write "concentric circles" when 2nd Lieutenant Sidhu started shouting.
"Grateful's picking up 10 contacts! Size estimates place 5 corvettes, 4 frigates, and a light cruiser!"
D'Noka choked on her coffee. "Identified?"
"No ma'am, Grateful authorized Contact Protocol. Oh God! Quantum Link Dead!"
"Does Morning corroborate?"
Jin only nodded.
Devastation overtook the bridge. How had this happened in under a minute?
Sidhu broke the silence, her voice wavering, "Tach-Scanners indicate the fleet is moving on intercept course."
The Captain stood. "I'm ordering an evacuation of the Dawn, we need to get the hell out of here."
Aubin did too. "Ma'am, I'm overruling, the Dawn contains sensitive information about human colonies, we can't let our aggressors take it."
A mixture of disgust and surprise wormed its way across D'Noka's face. "Kid, this is my ship, the only people that can overrule me are-"
"I invoke urgernte regula as an Officer of the ONI Office of Requisitions, Zizka I authorize you under command code C-Z-9-9-1 to authenticate."
The purple form of Zizka appeared, looking at his feet. "Sorry D'Noka, his codes are legitimate."
D'Noka cursed under her breath, "Fine then spook, you're free to get us all killed, contact the Morning, tell them to hurry the hell up with that tow."
Zaeed never wanted to stare down a Spartan again. It was a tense minute with the Spartan at gunpoint, and his men trying, and failing, to contain their horror and excitement. It was a relief when Cortana finally managed to break into comms, and confirm his and the Morning Star's intentions. Now, well, he was attaching tow-cables to the most famous ship in human history with the help of probably the most famous human in history. It was difficult to express how fanboy-ed up he was, it took all of his professionalism to keep him from asking for an autograph.
The Chief was quiet while he lugged the cables in zero-g, ignoring the gawking marines, and the general air of reverence. Zaeed had no idea how he did it, but he didn't get a chance to ponder it for long. The comms squawked, and Captain Hursnov sounded through his helmet. "All call, sensors report hostile alien lifeforms, attach your cables and RTB."
Zaeed took a second to gather his thoughts on that bombshell, before his command instincts took hold once more. "You heard the Captain, move your asses!"
"My estimates place the aliens intercepting the Dancer in under an hour, or the Morning in under 15 minutes." Zizka stood before the holo-display rendering the system, the 10 red ships in the alien fleet were rapidly approaching from galactic north, while the two human ships -marked blue- were scattered far apart, with one towing a destroyed hulk.
"Why don't they just use FTL to close the distance?" Sidhu questioned.
"Who knows, maybe their FTL requires a cooldown?" Heras studied the maps intently, "Since we can't use slipspace to place some distance with the Dawn towed, I don't see how she can get here safely, why can't we just destroy it and be done here?"
"The Dawn's navbanks contain vital information that would be useful to all humanity Lieutenant Heras, we will return that ship."
"The Morning could never tow that huge ship quickly, it already looks like those aliens have faster speeds in realspace. If they get their FTL back up…"
The Weapon's Officer, Dentin, butted in, "And how will we escape? Cole Protocol prevents direct retreat to human-held space, we couldn't go back to Shanxi even if we had the time."
Zizka answered that, "I think it's safe to assume they know we came from the Forks, how else would they have arrived at exactly the right time to intercept?"
"Luck?" A brief chuckle passed through the officers gathered around the map.
"Wait, Zizka do you have the schematic for the Dawn's aft?" D'Noka's voice took on a serious tone.
"Of course, why?"
"Okay, this is gonna sound stupid…"
Captain Hursnov thought that the Fleet Captain's plan was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard, but he saw no other alternative. "Are the guns set Kowalski?" His helmsman, and primary gunner, nodded. "Christ, fire when ready."
The Morning Star's main gun was a piddly thing in comparison to the MACs of even the heavy frigate his commander helmed, yet against the unshielded and sundered hull of the Dawn, her MAC round was like a knife through air. Her shot caught the "neck" of the craft, the point where the bridge and her navigational computers were connected by only a few thick bulkheads to the ship. It wasn't a clean cut, and the historian in him cringed at the thought of maiming an already priceless ship, (despite its already sorry state) but as the bridge drifted easily from the wreckage, he couldn't help but grin at the sheer absurdity of it.
"Detach hull cables, and full speed ahead!"
"Then why would they simply cut and run?" Litrinox had called a meeting of the fleet, with all the Captains meeting holographically on the communication deck. "These pirates are willy, and they're remarkably advanced, these may be sponsored by the Hegemony."
Arkernion, the Captain of the cruiser Kerigeen, stepped forward, "If it pleases the Admiral?" Litrinox nodded, "My XO proposed the theory that they may be recovering mapped territories from beyond the relay."
"Spirits," Desolas, Litrinox's Under Admiral, stepped forward, "I get the feeling the damned Batarians have been illegally colonizing again, they've been lobbying the Council for nearly a decade to activate the relay."
"Then I'll recall the rest of the patrol fleet to System 314, we may need to amass an invasion fleet." Litrinox sighed. "Alright, Arkernion, investigate the wreck, we'll continue with the pursuit."
"Understood, breaking off now." His hologram winked off.
"Turians, we lead the way!"
"We lead the way!" The holograms winked away one by one, leaving the Admiral standing in the semi-darkness with his Under.
"You did say you wanted excitement." Desolas had a way of getting under his friend's armor with those japes. Desolas smiled, before clasping his hand on Litrinox's shoulder.
"Spirits Desolas, I could have you court martialed for that one." Litrinox deadpanned. He held the deathly serious face for only a moment before breaking into a snicker. Desolas soon joined him.
"We should probably get back my friend." Desolas' smile faded.
Litrinox groaned "I wish you hadn't said that." Desolas was a chronic party killer. When the pair returned, the bustling activity of the bridge hadn't let up. "Status Report helm?"
"Frigate-equivalent is still making a run for it, we're recalculating intercept, but I estimate the ships will reunite before we catch them."
"How annoying, is warp spun back up engineering?"
"It'll be another few hours Admiral, we're better off in realspace for now."
"Understood, comms, can you get an update on Arkernion, I'd-" The ship groaned under the stress of impact, and threw Litrinox to the ground. The inertial dampeners struggled to reestablish order, as gravity flexed and reasserted itself.
"Sensors!?" the Admiral roared.
"I don't know Sir, I'm detecting radiation from… fr… from-"
"Spit it out you imbecile!"
Sensors' second sputtered out the words, "Nuclear detonation detected from the hulk, the Kerigeen's gone."
Silence reigned the bridge, as red clouded Litrinox's vision.
The bridge of the Dancer exploded into cheers and whoops.
"Tango down in nuclear hell!" Sidhu reported, beaming one of those 'kid-in-an-explosion-store' smiles
"Fell for the oldest trick in the book, maybe these aliens aren't all that smart after all." D'Noka patted Sidhu's shoulder, before returning to center-deck. "Any wisdom on why our alien friends fell for that Doctor Peters?"
Ava drew her eyes from the jeering crew. "Naivety? We may be their first contact as well."
"Huh. What an unpleasant bunch these are."
"Quite, Captain."
"Captain!" Jin shouted over the din, "Priority communique from Captain Hursnov, he wants to talk privately."
A look Ava couldn't quite describe passed over D'Noka's face. "I'll take it in the Comm Hub. Heras, you have the room!"
"Hursnov, it's a suicide mission and you know it!" D'Noka roared, her face scrunched into astonished rage. "What of your crew, what happens to them when you do this!"
Hursnov remained calm in the face of his superior's storm. "I've asked for volunteers from vital staff, Ike, the rest will be boarding Pelicans, and boarding your craft once we rendezvous."
"Don't play this game with me Pyotr, we can both make it-"
"You know that's not true, that nuke only bought us a few minutes, if the Fork's our only hope for warning Shanxi, one of us won't make it, or neither of us. The Dancer can tow faster, and may be able to survive if my plan doesn't work."
"Pyotr, please, there has to be another way."
"I'm sure you came to the same conclusion Ike, I'm sending Zizka and your helmsman the procedures for the switch, I'd like docking permissions as well ma'am."
D'Noka shook her head, and put her head in her hands. "Fine… thank you Hursnov."
"No need, I'm only doing my duty."
"That's some navy bullshit Hursnov."
He gave a tight grin to his friend. "It sure is."
The bridge was silent, it echoed as the Captain walked up and down the narrow halls toward his station. The comms station pinged, and the Captain almost called for Heinlien, before his words caught. He walked over to the station, and answered the call.
He was greeted by D'Noka's warm, brown eyes, and bronze piercings, glinting in the light. "I must say, the Master Chief and Cortana in the same gift, you are very flattering." Her smile seemed plastered on, and faded quickly in the face of the coming end.
"You're always the joker Captain. Is everyone aboard?"
"The last pelican landed a moment ago, the cables are attached."
"Then I guess this is it then Ike." The silence hung between them, static and the bustling of the bridge behind him mingled into a wall of noise now blaring in the quiet.
"I'll miss you Pyotr."
"As will I."
Hursnov cut the transmission before the tears came.
A raw, unbidden anger surged under the surface of the Reticent's bridge. It had been centuries since nuclear weapons had been used in wartime, centuries since a Turian vessel fell to one. The fact that pirates somehow managed to obtain them, and then use one on a Turian cruiser, it was so much more than a slap to the face. When that spirits-damned frigate turned back to face them, trigger fingers were itchy across the fleet.
Litrinox had his eyes glued to the range finders, his orders at the tip of his mandible.
500 Thousand meters…
300 Thousand…
100…
"Fire!" Litrinox roared.
That's when one frigate turned into ten.
UNSC corvettes are equipped with holographic beacons, which are generally used in search and rescue missions, or as helpful markers in assaults. However, using them requires an impressive amount of power, so much so that it makes them generally ineffective in combat, especially with the heat requirements they pose, and the fact that creating a decoy makes you light up like a Christmas Tree in the Alps on thermal imaging. However, against an alien race, such a trick might just work, if it didn't cook the crew alive first.
Hursnov cracked a grin as the alien ships lined up with his craft spun wildly to attack the ghosts now swarming them. The swarm of corvettes swung and spun like fighters in the black, forcing shipboard cannons into a frenzy of misses. He laughed at the decoy's physics defying dives and ducks through the enemy formation, at the alien cannons and lasers lancing through intangible ships and into the sharp, avian vessels of his enemy. He laughed even as his sweat began to burn his face, as his gunner shot round after round into the smaller vessels, as the heat became unbearable, and then all-encompassing. Even when his cabin began to burn he laughed, as the ghosts finally shorted out, and the vessels turned to him. He watched the Dancer disappear on his melting sensor screen, and he tried to collect himself, but the heat was too much.
He watched the big vessel turn towards, and saw the flash of fire before darkness took him.
"I've never seen holographic tech so advanced before, nor FTL." the sentence came out smooth, more relaxed than the other voices aboard the STG stealth frigate.
"Indeed sir, it seems that once again the Turians have ruined a first contact." A more familiar cadence is found in this voice.
Another jumps in "Any bets on how long it takes them to realize what they've done?"
"Keep your betting to yourself Lour, though I'd wager they've already figured it out." the slow drawl spoke again. "Let's maneuver towards one of the more intact wrecks, maybe we'll find something good."
Author's Note Again:
Sorry for the long gap between updates, it's been a busy week, and I expect it to only worsen. Expect updates to only happen around the weekend henceforth. Please leave reviews, or questions if you have any. Keeps the pen sharp!