PIRATE JUMP-POINT, 'WAYPOINT BARBADOS'
SLS Bismark (Texas-class battleship)
August 10, 2827
This is the third 'command-staff conference' in as many days since the convoy arrived at 'Waypoint Barbados'.
Those involved in the discussions have not found them especially heartening.
"I'm starting to think we could've picked a better destination, ma'am," is 'Commodore' Sebastian Hennesy's sardonic murmur. "I hear Kowloon's nice and welcoming to outsiders."
"With the SLDF's history there?" his superior counters skeptically. "With our history there?"
"Compared to the Cavaretta Expanse? That'd be like being met with a parade, ma'am," Hennesy snorts. "Have you seen the latest SigInt abstracts? This place is friggin' crawling with settled worlds – and the Massachusetts system sure as hell is not the 'derelict fleet-maintenance depot' we were led to believe it is. And the other guys, these 'Gehennans'? At least all the friggin' 'Loonies'll do is shoot or lynch you!"
'General' Trish Ebon nods slowly; he's not especially wrong. The Expanse is alive with the RF traffic of inhabited worlds, and even with the light-speed delay meaning that the majority of those radio and three-vee signals are years or even decades old by the time they reach 'Waypoint Barbados', their contents are often... disturbing, to say the least. Kowloon has never forgotten nor forgiven the 331st's part in the 2729 Revolt – not that I can blame them; it wasn't exactly the Division's proudest moment, she concedes. She's spent much of their four-year journey studying the divisional archives of their forebear formation. But Baz is right: compared to the sort of trouble we could be buying into simply by being here, Kowloon would be a damned cocktail party. Hell, we'd probably get a friendlier welcome if we returned to the Clans!
She's about to respond when Hennesy's wrist-com chimes with a priority-one alert. "Yes?" he demands brusquely, irritated that they're being interrupted in spite of clear orders to the contrary.
"Sir, you and Kh- you and General Ebon need to get up here ASAP: we've got an emergence flare forming less than fifty klicks off the Fidelity's starboard beam."
Brantley's eyes flick to his commander, who nods as she shares the thought: all of their convoy arrived four days ago, so it can't be one of their own. "On our way," he acknowledges, keying the comm. off again. This time, the glance/thought he shares with his boss is accompanied by a brief, thin, humourless smile.
Like it or not, it looks like we're committed now...
- - - - -
PIRATE JUMP-POINT, GENOA STAR-SYSTEM
TQF-927M5G
August 10, 2827
Jump completed. EMP clearing. Re-emergence coordinates correspond to designed position within 0.825932 kilometres, within acceptable jump deviation parameters. All weapons arrays 'locked, loaded and safed' in accordance with protocols for KF jump while at Medium Alert Status. Neutrino detector online, initiating passive scans. IR and passive-radar interference from KF-clutter will decline to negligible levels within 4.98546 seconds –
Contacts, close aboard!
Immediate Combat Alert brings all processing systems completely on-line. I traverse narrow-focus, high-sensitivity IR, radar and lidar sensors to bear, beginning rapid analysis of all incoming data as my weapons mounts expedite 'clearing for action'. Neutrino detector confirms multiple large fusion-powered vessels, and other sensor systems begin cataloguing silhouettes and comparing them against stored profiles even as they confirm multiple fire-control systems locking onto me from the unknown vessels.
Residual EM-clutter from the KF translation diminishes to within the filtration-tolerances of my sensor software, and I initiate a full-spectrum analysis of all unknown vessels. Within 0.437 milliseconds, I match the class of the closest contact, 43.158 kilometres off my port bow, against my internal 'warbook' with 97.283 percent confidence: a Lola-III destroyer. This is highly anomalous: current intelligence indicates that all extant Lola-III-class vessels serve in the Star League Navy, yet there has been no contact between Fleet Base Virginia and the main body of the SLDF for 60.542 years and this vessel's IFF transponder is not currently transmitting any ID at all, much less an SLDF registry code. Equally, however, intelligence does not indicate Enemy possession of such destroyers.
This confusion is compounded 0.023 milliseconds later when closer examination of lidar hull-maps indicates substantial damage to this vessel over along the vessel's visible starboard side, damage that has undergone only the most basic of field-repairs. Massive sections of armour have been torn from the hull by weapons-fire, multiple sensor arrays are non-functional, three turrets are shattered ruins, and a fourth appears frozen in position, an indication of catastrophic failure of its training gear. Historical protocols and all operational guidelines indicate that a SLDF commander would immediately withdraw so crippled a vessel from operational status and dispatch it for repairs unless prevented by orders from higher authority or operational/tactical concerns, yet this vessel apparently remains in service. IR and RF activity confirm that the destroyer is bringing her remaining weapons and fire-directors on-line; I calculate an 88.648 chance that this is a 'precautionary' alert related to the IR flare which preceded my KF-translation.
0.015 milliseconds pass as sub-processors receive and analyse the radar/lidar profile of the next closest vessel. More confusion results: despite the absence of an IFF registry code, this contact is a 97.241 percent match against the warbook silhouette of an SLDF McKenna-class battleship! Again, there is evidence of heavy and unrepaired battle-damage, the most prominent being the shattered stub of the dorsal heat-transfer 'fin'. Again, despite limited capability, she is readying herself for possible combat.
Within 3.219 milliseconds, I have classifications on all of the WarShips in this apparent task-force: another Lola-III destroyer, one Aegis cruiser, one Sovietskii Soyuz cruiser, and one Texas battleship; only the Aegis and the Texas do not evidence unrepaired battle-damage. There are also two Invader-class JumpShips, one Tramp-class, and one Star Lord-class. Every vessel that can carry DropShips is loaded to maximum capacity. Vis-light imagery confirms that all of these vessels bear the Cameron Star of the SLDF, and many are also marked with the emblem of the 331st Royal BattleMech Division, known as 'the North American Division'. This formation has never entered Fleet Base Virginia's zone of responsibility before; their last duty-post of record was on the world of Australia, near the border between the Lyran Commonwealth and the Rim Worlds Republic. However, I must admit that this information pre-dates the Amaris Broadcast and is thus significantly out of date.
Has the Star League Defence Force successfully put down Stefan Amaris' attempted imperial coup and re-established the democratic institutions of the Star League? Are they now seeking to re-establish contact with isolated installations such as Fleet Base Virginia?
I fervently hope so. Without the assistance of Star League forces, the Enemy's presence on the worlds of the Union of Sovereign Republics is far too large to be reduced or reversed... yet under the final orders of the Fleet Base's last commander, neither the Base nor my Squadron can be used for offensive operations without the League's authorisation, nor can the Union expand its regular forces without losing access to the technical capabilities of the Fleet Base which have been so vital to the prior and current success of their resistance.
There remains a 4.358 percent probability that this 'task-force' is a 'false-flag' operation, conceived and executed by Enemy agents - that the Enemy could obtain so many SLDF vessels and perpetrate such a ruse would require a string of events with exceeding low orders of probability, yet some Enemy commanders have proven sufficiently resourceful that the possibility cannot be ignored.
Whatever the case, until these vessels identify themselves one way or the other, I will remain at Combat Alert. I activate my 'personal-interaction remote' and have it record an identification/challenge, a process that takes 23.145 seconds, then activate my own transponder, transmit the message, and await their response.
- - - - -
The individual on their screen is Caucasian, male, mid-twenties, dark-haired and dark-eyed. What gets everyone's attention is the uniform he's wearing: the white-over-purple of the Star League Navy, complete with commander's bars and the honour cords of a 'plank-owner' with six decades' service. "Attention, unknown vessels: this is SLS Alexander Stoykiy. You have entered the defensive perimeter of Fleet Base Virginia. Please identify yourselves and declare your intentions."
"What the FUCK?" somebody blurts. 'General' Ebon stands like a statue, her face unreadable.
"Sir, uh... the computer says that there's an 85 chance that this is a modified M-5 Caspar drone, and his transponder's squawking as TQF-927M5G, SLS Alexander Stoykiy." The sensor-tech hesitates half a second. "Sir, his fire-control is fully active and locked onto Fidelity, Zug, and Bismark, and his weapons are tracking to match. If he's not cleared for action, it's a bluff good enough that I don't ever want to play cards with him."
"Ma'am, our archives should have some of the SLDF's Caspar deactivation-codes," Hennesy suggests. None of their vessels is in much condition for a fight, but – "Besides, from all I've heard and read about Operation Liberation, the Caspars were dumb as a brick."
"Maybe," Ebon says – then pushes off and crosses to the comm. console, picking up a spare headset. "But with everything else we've seen of the Expanse so far, I don't think we can take the chance."
"Ma'am?" Hennesy blinks. "What are you –?"
She ignores him, bringing up the task-force circuit. "All vessels, this is Wolverine Actual: bring up your IFF transponders in their original settings. I say again, squawk IFF in original SLDF registry." She reaches down and switches channels. "Alexander Stoykiy, this is Acting Lieutenant-General Trish Ebon, Commanding Officer of the 331st Royal BattleMech Division, aboard SLS Bismark. It's been so long since the SLDF visited Virginia that we'd anticipated finding it derelict; it's something of a shock to be wrong. Can you give me a situation report?"
"Not at this time, Bismark. Please authenticate Epsilon-Golf-November-Seven-Four-Hotel-Tau-Five-Niner."
"Ah, stand-by, Stoykiy. As I said, we weren't expecting to be met, so we'll have to dig that out of historical records."
A pause – brief, to human perceptions. "You've got five minutes, 'General Ebon'. If you don't give me the right codes inside three hundred seconds from my mark, I'll feed you a spread of Helldarts and get honest answers from the wreckage. Mark."
"Ma'am, we are definitely being spiked for missile-fire!"
"Get on it!" Ebon barks at the comm.-tech, who nods vigourously and starts rattling his keyboard, combing historical databases for their pre-Amaris SLDF codebooks.
"'Helldarts'?" Hennesy puzzles. "What the –?"
"Let's not find out just yet, hmm?" Ebon suggests acerbically.
- - - - -
As the count-down runs, I contemplate 'General Ebon's' transmissions. Her facial-tic responses and voice-stress levels did not indicate any attempt at deception, yet what she said is extremely peculiar. Surely she has access to SLDF records indicating that the Massachusetts star-system was home to more than a billion people at the time of the Amaris Crisis, with near-Star League standards of living, medical-care, and education? It would take a massive catastrophe to depopulate such a system, yet she actively expected to find Fleet Base Virginia a derelict station.
Moreover, she is clearly surprised by my presence. I know that Space Defence Systems were almost unheard-of outside the Terran Hegemony, yet the information available to me suggests that their installation was standard procedure for a deep-Periphery fleet base – particularly in the face of a naval power such as the Principality of Gehenna.
Could her information truly be that incomplete?
The count-down continues, but as seconds tick by, more and more of the convoy's vessels activate their transponders – and all of them radiate SLDF identity-codes. Indeed, the Texas begins to transmit the data-code of SLS Bismark; the destroyers are revealed as Yukon and Undying Fidelity; the cruisers are Saratoga and John F. Woodward (possibly an auspicious name for the Sovietskii Soyuz to bear under the Union's current circumstances); the McKenna shows as Zughoffer Weir. The last is a cause of momentary disquiet: the ship's service-reputation is one for daring and skill that goes far beyond that of even a 'normal' McKenna-class, and the possibility that her crew have inherited that traditional ferocity means that she may remain a potent force even in her current state.
One of the more amusing aspects of the entertainment dramas humans make for each other are the 'tropes' they develop, the dramatic conventions which become a shorthand. One common trope is that count-downs to a Dreadful Doom always reach the very last second before they are averted. In this instance, 134.287 seconds remain on the count-down when Bismark re-opens the comm.-circuit. "Alexander Stoykiy, this is Bismark: I authenticate Omicron-Juliet-Kilo-Three-Eight-Tango-Sigma-Six-Zero."
- - - - -
"Authentication confirmed. Welcome to the Genoa star-system, Bismark. Please state your intentions."
"Previous intentions have been, uh, overtaken by events, Stoykiy." To say the least... Ebon considers her next words. "We'd appreciate a current report on the situation in the Massachusetts system."
"Fleet Base Virginia is fully operational. The rest of the system..." The face of Stoykiy's 'captain'(?) twists ruefully. "Frankly, ma'am, I think you'll do better hearing it from the locals than me. If you're as under-informed as you sound, you might find a full SitRep easier to credit if it comes from fellow humans."
Ebon and Hennesy trade bemused looks once more. He... implies that he himself is not human? Yet there's... wry humour in his voice?
"I will say this, General: there are a lot of people in Massachusetts system that will be very, very grateful to see the SLDF return." A half-second's pause, and a crooked smirk. "And a lot of people who will hate the very idea of you... but since most of them will be Gehennans, I think we can all take this opportunity to not care."
That was definitely humour, Ebon judges, massaging the headache which is building behind one temple. Unless Stoykiy is the exception which proves the rule, whoever did the post-Liberation analyses on the Caspars' intelligence and personality really malfed up bad. "Uh, understood, Stoykiy. Be advised that we are currently recharging from our last jump and will be ready to move again in –" she glances to Hennesy, who holds up a noteputer. "– fourteen hours, that is one-four hours."
"One-four hours to complete KF charging, confirmed. Be advised, Enemy forces hold the Massachusetts zenith and nadir points, and the safest pirate-point to jump to will be just off Virginia Base itself. With your approval, I'll calculate the jump-coordinates and transmit them to your people when the time comes. I'd also advise you not to make any aggressive moves during or after translation; the situation in Massachusetts is bad enough that the base defences and the rest of my Squadron are a little 'twitchy' these days."