Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, and everyone on, above, below, or in a different dimension than that wonderful spectrum of human diversity (and lizard people if you're watching)! I am proud to announce that I am back! I hope you all enjoy this new chapter, and my writing skills have not degraded too badly.
Now for some information. The distance between Da Ling Er and Da Ling Liu (Relay 314 and Baikonur) is eight light years. The distance between Da Ling Liu and Da Ling San (Baikonur and Shanxi) is seven light years. The distance between Da Ling San and Da Ling Er (Shanxi and Relay 314) is 12 light years.
I noticed that I've been using the terms CIC and bridge interchangeably in this story. I'm going to start using only bridge to simplify things.
Most human ships use smaller, but more numerous secondaries compared to Hierarchy ships, more focused on dealing with fighters and munitions compared to the ship focus of Hierarchy secondaries.
Cyclops Delta, Eurylochus System, Dosala Station, PFS Swift Strike, Meeting Room, Commander Fursara Berasius 0300 April 5th 2157:
My gaze surveys the meeting room, taking in all the senior officers and department heads of the Swift Strike, my frigate. In total, there should be seven of us in the room, me, my 1st Officer, and the department heads of Navigation, Engineering, Supply, Operations, and Combat Systems. However, the Engineering head is not here yet.
As the old turian, his bronze face paint formed in a circular pattern, arrives, I begin to speak. "Ok, bad news everyone, our shore leave has been canceled." There are no verbal protestations, but I can feel them just the same. "We're being attached to the 52nd Patrol Group with the rest of the Flotilla and the 822nd for reconnaissance and escort. We're also being joined by three cruisers from the 104th Light Cruiser Flotilla."
The head of operations asks "Ma'am, what in spirit's name would they need a dozen frigates and a trio of cruisers for?"
"There was a hostile contact beyond the Relay, they first took out the Solana Hanus and then two of the cruisers from the search force. The cruisers are to reinforce the 52nd itself, while we are going to be trying to find the bastards." The others are fired filled with shock, but then rage and determination take its place swiftly.
"How long till we're heading out?" The voice of the Navigation Head breaks the short silence caused by my statement.
I drag the information about our orders from the depths of my mind as quickly as I can to give her an answer. "Orders are to leave as soon as possible for Relay 312, so it depends on how long it takes to get resupplied. Lieutenant Falvrius?" My words bring the attention of everyone in the room to the Supply Head.
He thinks for a moment, before speaking with certainty in his voice. "It should take only another two hours to resupply the Swift Strike. As long as the crew is all back by then, we should be able to leave less than 10 minutes after that."
"Ok, number one, it's your job to ensure everyone is on board." I say to my XO before turning back towards the rest of the officers. "Everyone, let's get to work."
Xingyun, Interstellar Space, SSV Hamburg, Bridge, Commander Noah Beek, 1920, April 4th, 2157:
I feel my blood pool into my feet as the Hamburg makes another high-g burn to avoid a salvo from the alien cruiser, the hardsuit I'm wearing trying to compensate for the inertial bleedthrough like an old flight suit I'd seen in an equally old movie my brother forced me to watch a few months back, before my deployment on the Marathon. The single powerful thud that seems to shake the entire ship reveals we were only partially successful, one of the powerful rounds being able to strike the rapidly weakening barriers of the Hamburg. 'Few more shots like that and we're done.'
Another mass accelerator round left the Hamburgs prow from its remaining operational accelerator, represented by a glowing lance in the bridge's main display. At this range the enemy isn't having much better luck dodging than we are, and it hits the cruiser, clipping her wing, taking off the last third with the kinetic energy of a small nuclear bomb.
"The enemy is still closing in. Fire all missiles, switch to secondary mass accelerators after five more salvos!" I hear the Admiral yell next to me, the first part little more than a murmur, while the second made the chaos of the bridge sound quiet. Her orders are fervently obeyed, and I see three glowing missiles launch from the Hamburg, one of the port tubes having been an early casualty of this battle. They quickly close the distance, passing the fighters and there dogfight between the two cruisers, the rapidly dwindling alien craft occupied by the Hamburg's still numerous fighters.
Not long after that point they begin to dodge for their lives, the alien cruiser opening up with its secondary mass accelerators. The craft itself begins to rapidly burn portward while turning its bow to keep its main weapons on us, giving the less damaged cannons on its starboard side a better firing arc while increasing the missiles' travel times.
The cannons manage to take down one of the missiles, the cylindrical weapon going up in a brilliant blue explosion, soon another is taken down, creating a similar detonation satisfyingly closer to the cruiser. The last one almost makes it, only a few moments from striking the vessel's hull, before being taken out by the cruiser's point defense lasers.
Not long after the final missile was destroyed, we reached effective secondary range for both ships. As several battles have shown, this seals our fate more often than not. We put up a good fight, but the Geneva class is a below average mid range fighter compared to even other human cruisers, never mind the alien craft.
Nevertheless, the Admiral is unready to give up. "Launch all reserve fighters and fire missiles as soon as they are loaded! Divert power to the aft engines, get us to their port side!"
The battle is fierce, the enemy launches a missile strike of their own, 4 lances of light joining the dozens of smaller, swifter ones from the mass accelerator rounds. "Launch flack mines! Spearwall!" The Admiral shouts, quickly inciting a response and reaction from the weapons officer.
As the small mines begin to spew from the, our secondary guns don't turn to fire against them, instead remaining on the alien cruiser. Some make it through the ship's barrier, hitting the hull and damaging subsystems, one of the missile launchers, another secondary turret, a laser cluster, and that's only what we can see. One by one the systems of the alien cruiser are taken out. The antimatter tanks are set to be like ours, so their small size mean that it is unlikely the relatively weak shots from the secondaries could break through the thick armor and backup barriers surrounding them, which only main weapons can usually penetrate, but everything else besides the nearly equally protected reactor is fair game for destruction. We are also taking our own punches, perhaps more than the enemy cruiser has.
As the missiles close with the Hamburg, the Admiral shouts "fire spearwall!" leading to dozens of flack mines, the last of our stock, to detonate, bathing the missiles with nuclear fire. They are left as Indistinguishable collections of debris floating towards the Hamburg at a much reduced pace.
"Fighters Alpha-8 through 16 launched, rest of the squadron have cleaned up the enemy birds and are closing in on the target." The words of one of the bridge officers brings a smile to my face.
Turns out the smile was too soon, as only a few moments after the pronouncement, all the lights on the bridge turn a bright red and 'Ship Destroyed' is shown on all displays.
I see the Admiral scowl. "The data, now!"
I quickly move my hand to my omnitool, bringing up the new data from the simulation. "Main cannon accuracy was 28 percent under 10 thousand kilometers, slight improvement over the last few simulations, but with us only using the data from two battles, the simulated movements may be off from the real thing. Missile and secondary accuracies are within minor deviations of the last seven solo simulations and the simulations from the rest of the fleet. Fighters are still in the game so their data isn't available yet, but they seem to have faired just as we feared, without missiles they can't really match the enemy craft one on one with the estimations we have, though I've seen the stats and considering their seeming lack of fighter use, I think they're high balling them a bit too much." We don't have good data on the performance data for the enemy ships. For the cruisers it isn't too bad, 2 battles isn't great but they were heavily engaged for both. The fighters on the other hand were wiped out in both battles by large units of our fighters with missiles, so the techs working on the simulations have had to work with our limited data and fill in the gaps with our equally limited knowledge on the alien's tech. It's even worse for any attempt a frigate, corvette or, god forbid, dreadnought analog, considering we have no data for any such crafts or even knowledge on their existence, meaning the frigates haven't gotten a chance to square off against their counterparts in the simulations, and the larger fleet (more squadron really) battles aren't very accurate with no frigates, which are replaced with more fighters.
So far, the results have been, while not horrible, not inspiring. Generally, when starting at the edge of effective firing range, the alien cruisers did better than us, not by an extreme amount but still with around 3 wins for every 2 we won. There has been a pretty consistent trend that, as the ranges increased, and we could take more advantage of our better point defenses and fighters, the ratio got more in our favor, while when the range closed, and the enemy could take advantage of their more powerful secondaries and shields, it went more in their favor, as was shown by our own most recent battle.
Sometimes there would be a draw, usually with our fighters either destroying or, more often, mission killing the enemy ship after it was mauled by its battle with our cruiser. The rest were mostly from missiles hitting after their origin ship was already taken out. Once, however, a simulated alien cruiser took out the Belfast, right before being gutted by a mass accelerator round the Belfast had shot before its death.
"Ma'am, are we going to run another solo battle, or should we do a third fleet battle?" I ask her.
She pauses for a moment, thinking, before speaking. "Give the crew some rest time, no more simulations for this shift." I see one of the crewmen nearby smile at that, the ending of nearly 5 constant simulations bringing relief to the man. "I think that Captain Johansson can lead the next fleet battle, good practice in case I'm ever taken out. We'll go off after this shift with the rest of the crew." That made me smile too.
About 35 minutes later, we walk out of the bridge as the next shift takes over with the Hamburg's captain.
Xingyun Cluster, Ibn Battuta 2157-3 System, Outer System, MSV Long Haul, Captain Tracatra Varis, 1940, April 4th, 2157:
I smile as we leave FTL at the edge of another system, a binary system with a yellow dwarf and a red dwarf orbiting each other at a fair distance. The Long Haul has been out past the new Relay for the last week, getting ahead of most of the competition for surveying systems in the new Cluster. So far we've been jumping from system to system, cherry picking the best spots for potential resources and checking those, before heading off to the next system. The last 4 systems have almost put us in the black with the expected costs of the expedition, and we still have another 5 to 8 days to go before we run out of supplies on the ship. 'Hopefully this system puts us in the black and we can start making bank.'
"Give me the preliminary scans, what are we working with?" I ask the sensor officer, a somewhat stout asari maiden about eight times my age.
She looks at the old but well maintained display in front of her. "Five planets, two terrestrial and two gaseous in orbit of the yellow dwarf, with another terrestrial orbiting the red. Metallicity is about 0.01. No asteroid belt of any note, but the innermost gas giant seems to have some pretty large asteroid fields at its L4 and L5 points."
"Are either of the gaseous planets good for He-3 extraction? And are there any good discharge points?" I ask. The Long Haul is equipped with a He-3 skimmer skiff. It's bulky, expensive, and does not supply enough to negate fuel concerns, but it extends our operation time by a fair bit. The skimmer on the Long Haul isn't the best, so it can't work in deeper gravity wells.
The asari looks back down at her display. "Seems like the third and fourth planets in orbit of the yellow dwarf have magnetic fields strong enough to discharge in, the third planet is small enough for the skimmer to work."
"Ok, jump us to the third planet, initiate discharge and once it's done jump to the L4 point and begin surveying some of the metallic asteroids." The navigator, another turian, begins preparations for the in-system jump, but is interrupted when the communications officer speaks up.
"Umm, captain, we're getting an artificial signal from deeper in the system." The sensor officer, a quarian whose name I only remembered due to the rather humorous last part of it 'Who would name someone Qwib-Qwib?', says, causing confusion to ripple across the bridge.
"How did someone get here before us? Did the expedition survey this system?" I ask, more to myself than to the others.
The sensor officer shakes her head. "This system is not on their vector, and even still, it's half a dozen light years beyond the Relay system, and the expedition left after they found 313."
Her words only add to the confusion. "So what is the signal?"
All eyes turn to the quarian. "Putting it on speakers."
"Attention, Welcome All Vessels, This Is Alliance Outpost Ibn Battuta 2157-3-A1. Your Appearance and Operations In This System Will Be Recorded And Sent To The Alliance Xingyun Cluster Authority On Shanxi And The Alliance Department Of Stellar Administration. Please Query This Station For System Information, Claims, And Emergency Assistance. This Message Will Repeat."
"Soooo, what the hell was that?" The navigator was the one to break the silence brought about by the transmission.
The communications officer is the one to respond to his question. "We're getting the same transmission on repeat from a location in relatively close orbit of the yellow dwarf. Considering we are getting it all the way out here, it has been going on for a while." He continues to speak after we've all had a chance to digest that information. "I've already run the message through the ship's database, it matches no language, computer or organic, known in the galaxy, not even the dead ones."
You could hear a pin drop after his last statement. First contact is a rare event, with centuries often passing between the discovery of new races. Yet it seems we have found ourselves in the middle of one. "Jump to the origin, and prep the first contact package, we do have one right?"
"We should, it's required that all exploration ships registered in Council Space have an up to date first contact package, but I haven't checked for one since I took this job, so I'll have to look for it." The words of the communications officer annoys me, but I don't comment.
"Well, set the vector and activate the FTL, let's meet some aliens."
Xingyun Cluster, Ibn Battuta 2157-3 System, Alliance Outpost Ibn Battuta 2157-3-A1, Outpost Central VI, 1945, April 4th, 2157:
[2157.04.04.19.45.01.2113]
-FTL exit detected, vessel detected at 9,243.22 kilometers, scanning vessel-
[2157.04.04.19.45.02.1513]
-Vessel matches no known design, no recognizable IFF detected-
-Initiate Protocol Gamma-33B-
-Download all data to courier drone 02-
-Begin launch preparations for courier drone 02-
-Send message: Attention unknown vessel, identify yourself, activate IFF, and state your purpose in this system. All spacecraft within Alliance jurisdiction are required to have an IFF system installed and active at all times when deployed. Punishment for not following these requirements may include, but are not limited to: fines of a minimum of 15 thousand credits, revocation of spacecraft operation certificates, and jail time of up to 18 months. Please comply.-
Xingyun Cluster, Ibn Battuta 2157-3 System, Outer System, MSV Long Haul, Captain Tracatra Varies, 1945, April 4th, 2157:
I stare at the space structure pondering whether it looks more like a fungus, or a tumor. "Tell me what that is."
The sensor officer looks at her display, interest clear on her face. "Structure is on a modest metallic asteroid around a few megatons in mass. Externally there seems to be some sensors, docking ports, communications equipment, mining, and a lot of construction. On the inside however, inferred is picking up a lot of activity, I think it's a fabricator, and a decently large one. There's nothing that looks like an organic signature, or even a pressurized area, completed anyways. Unless these people make the hanar and volus look normal compared to most races, I think this thing is an automated station, perhaps self constructed."
We are interrupted when the communications officer speaks up. "Captain, we're getting another signal, and it doesn't look like the last one."
Interest and concern fills me. "Put it on."
The message is just as incomprehensible as the last one, though it concerningly seems to have a more warning tone than the last one, at least to me, considering this is a completely unknown species, it could be asking to join us in peace and harmony I none of us would be able to tell.
I pause to consider what we should do, before coming to a decision. "Send the first contact package, and." I hesitate. "Open an audio channel to the station."
The quarian's fingers move swiftly across his display, almost gliding. "Package sent and channel open captain."
I hesitate, racking my brain on what to say, what would be best for such a historic event, but then I begin to speak.
Xingyun Cluster, Ibn Battuta 2157-3 System, Alliance Outpost Ibn Battuta 2157-3-A1, Outpost Central VI, 1945, April 4th, 2157:
[2157.04.04.19.45.32.5493]
-Message received from unknown vessel: Hello, this is the interstellar survey ship Long Haul. Our people haven't met yet, so I welcome you to the galactic community with open arms. I know you probably don't understand us, but I'm sending a first contact package that may help with that.-
-Unknown language detected, switching to Protocol Omega-1-C-
-Data package received, scanning-
-No erected viruses, data construction unknown, opening-
-Unknown language detected-
-Transfer copy of data packet to courier drone 02-
-Search database for closest Alliance vessel-
-Search complete, closest Alliance vessel SSV Ibn Battuta, Pytheas class exploration cruiser ECR-49-
[2157.04.04.19.45.50.3144]
-Courier drone 02 launch preparation complete-
-Courier drone 02 data download complete-
-Courier drone 02 launch, primary destination SSV Ibn Battuta, secondary destination Shanxi Outpost-C1-
-Send data package: first contact package-
Xingyun Cluster, Ibn Battuta 2157-3 System, Outer System, MSV Long Haul, Captain Tracatra Varis, 1945, April 4th, 2157:
It is completely silent after I finish speaking, everyone too focused on waiting for the station's response. Fear fills me. 'Did I say the wrong words? Will it consider the message or package an attack? Did I just start the next Rachni War?' My mind continues to fabricate fears, which quickly turn into dread. The complete, yet somehow deafening silence serves as the perfect breeding ground, each second compounding my fears.
Eventually, almost mercifully, the silence is ended by a noise from the sensor console and the exclamations of the sensor officer. "Activity from the station! One object powering up and detaching, bringing up scans now."
The fear in my heart is amplified when I see the image that comes up; cylindrical structure with a large engine at the back. Small thrusters on its sides burning to bring it on a selected vector 'A missile? Is it going to attack us?' I almost order the Long Haul's limited weapon systems activated, hoping to preserve the crew's lives by shooting that thing out of the void, but I reconsider when I take in the craft more fully, or more specifically the direction it is pointing. The display shows the craft isn't aimed at the Long Haul, the main drive pointing about 30 degrees away from the Long Haul while the bow is pointing to the middle of nowhere. Quickly, the craft seemed to glow a bright blue and disappeared in a streak of light. "Sensors, trace that vector, is there anything out there?"
After several moments, the asari responds. "Yes ma'am, class M star about 4 light years away. Seems like it's a courier drone, probably sending for someone."
I smile, the fears filling my mind disappearing as quickly as they appeared. Well, then. Let's wait."
I am creating this as an apology for the significant gap in uploads for the last few weeks. Sorry about that and I hope you enjoy.
Local Cluster, Sol System, Mars, Promethei Planum, Prospecting Rover Golden Streak, Mateus Silva, 1840 April 9th, 2148:
I strain my eyes as I look at another report from one of the survey drones, the ninth I've seen in as many minutes. 'A few iron veins, some other minerals, a few high concentration patches of eezo but nothing worth mining.' I sigh, this is the fifth expedition I've led out to the endless plains of mars, coming to the world only a month ago hoping to strike it rich from the planet's eezo. However, I haven't been having the best luck, and while my finds have so far kept me and my crew afloat, riches beyond compare aren't really in the cards like I hoped when stepping on this dustball.
"Mat! Battery two is giving out, fucking second hand crap. We should be able to work it through the rest of the expedition, but it'll need to be replaced when we're back at Redstone." I curse as the words of my engineer, second in command, and old friend George Bignell, reach me. 'Looks like we will be running a loss for this one, we should have enough funds left to do another run before things get really tight, just gotta hope we strike eezo next time, else I might have to sell the Streak and head home.'
The Golden Streak is an 2142 World Strider Prospecting Rover, originally built to find and extract metal from the moon's surface before her last owner brought her to Mars hoping to strike it rich last year. Needless to say she failed and sold the Streak to pay off her debts and get home. Unfortunately, I haven't been having any better luck than her.
"Uh, Matius, I think you might want to see this." Jacky says, trying to direct me towards the display right in front of her chair. Jacky is a nice girl, and the only person on the Streak to actually call Mars home, having been born in 2119 at Port Wells. She'd never left the planet to her own admission, and was originally hired by the Streak's previous owner. She's ok, her mind drifts sometimes but she does her job well.
"What is it Jacky, you find a vein?" I ask her as I get out of my seat and move across the cramped rover's monitor room to look at her display.
She shakes her head "I don't think so, take a look at this." Her hand waves towards the display bringing my attention to a set of underground readings from one of the survey drones.
It takes a few moments to interpret the data, very confusing data. "That doesn't look natural, are there any records of construction in the area?"
Jacky shakes her head. "Already checked, the closest thing is over 150 kilometers away, it should be untouched." She pauses for a moment. "And given how big it is, there is no way someone could build this unnoticed."
'Interesting, let's see if we can crack open this little mystery.' "Any part of this thing near the surface?" I ask Jacky.
Her fingers begin to quickly fly over the keyboard, swiftly bringing up a more comprehensive scan of the area. After a quick look, she says "Right here." while pointing to a section that appears to be close to the surface. "There is only a few meters on top, mostly sand and maybe some rock, the Streak should be able to take that off and let us see what the hell that thing is."
I grin "Well then set a course, I'll take the wheel. It shouldn't be too far away, so the drones can still return on their own." I move towards the front of the rover, sitting in its driver seat and getting the girl moving. Her wheels almost scream in protest after so many hours unmoving in the sands of mars, but eventually obey, moving the rover swiftly to its new destination.
It took only 10 minutes for us to reach the site, and another 15 for the equipment to all be set up. After half an hour of robotic digging, the object was revealed, if a door made of something none of our equipment could Identify could be called an object. After a rather large amount of effort, the door opened to reveal a corridor ending in what looks like a slanted elevator shaft.
"So, what now?" Asks George. "Should we call this in? Who would we even call in for this?"
"Send a drone down." I order, halting his line of questioning. 'No way am I letting someone else take this over before I learn what the hell this is.' I take a good look down the corridor and what I can see of the shaft. It looks old, older than anything that should be on Mars considering mankind hasn't even been here for more than a few decades, let alone the centuries that would be needed for anything this advanced to reach such a poor state.
"Uh, yes boss." George responds, moving his hand down to touch the omnitool on his other arm, taking control of the drone that first found the place, and ordering it down into the depths.
The drone makes it through the corridor without any problems, and begins to slowly go down the elevator shaft. It does not end even after dozens of meters, reaching the top of the main segment of the anomaly and continuing. After over a hundred meters, the drone finally reaches the bottom of the shaft, being greeted by the shaft's elevator, still no exit in sight. The elevator's door is damaged, the twisted metal creating a small opening, not enough for the large drone to enter, but perhaps enough for a human. Beyond it I can see another corridor.
"Well, looks like we're calling this in, can't exactly do any more unless we head down ourselves, and we have no clue how safe it is down there." George says, almost with relief in his voice, something that just spurs me on further.
"I'm heading down." George starts to protest, but I don't listen as I head down the corridor. I pass through the corridor quickly, reaching the elevator shaft before George is out of breath, Jacky's voice already joining his. The shaft is slanted, but not enough to walk. Luckily, it has depressed handholds built into the side, the too far distance between each hold adding to the mystery of this odd place. Using the holds, I begin my slow journey down in the facility's depths, trying to keep my eyes away from the hundred meter fall under me. The shaft looks even older up close, each scar, each worn down spot, looking as if it holds an ancient history long forgotten by anyone living.
When I finally reach the elevator, I squeeze my way through the hole, and greet solid ground like an old friend. I am quickly distracted however, when I am forced to the ground by a weight I haven't felt in a long time. 'The hell?' I think as gravity far greater than should be possible on Mars bars down on me. I barely notice as the lights within the elevator and corridor beyond it flicker back to life, some quickly falling back into inactivity, while others don't restart at all, leaving the area half illuminated like an ancient building lit by torchlight.
I regain my bearings, slowly getting used to gravity, which seems to be slightly high than even Earth's, and look down the twilight engulfed corridor, the path flanked by closed, open, and broken doors, half a dozen to a side, with a final, larger door at the end.
I slowly walk through the hallway, each step making a 'thud, thud, thud' dur to my hardsuit. I flash a light through each of the open doors, revealing a multitude of additional corridors, enough that It could take me days to explore them all. Some of the open doors abruptly end in collapsed hallways, the rock of Mars winning the battle against the facility's metal after I don't know how long.
The door at the end calls, to me, like a mystery unsolved, or a present unopened. I reach the door, only for it to open on its own, the door sliding into the wall in components, revealing something shocking.
"George." I say once I regain my voice. "You may want to call someone, this is big, far bigger than any of us." I stare into the large room, no, hanger, and gaze upon the dark gray, scared ship in front of me. "So much bigger."