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Quod Olim Erat: Fractal Contact (Chapter 5)
🕑 Added 2022-12-04 04:32:31 +0000 UTCThe fronts always shifted. The general public were presented with a firm, but factually incorrect, image. As far as they were concerned, the fronts were large areas of space on the outside of human-dominated territories—like the shell of an egg—where the fighting took place. By similar definition, the buffer zone was a thin layer between the actual front and all combat-free space. The truth was a lot messier. The buffer zones were large, ever-changing regions in which anything could occur. Ships of both sides flew in there, yet no side actually controlled the territory. If people knew that, at one point, the combined Scuu and Cassandrian buffer zones had been as large as human colonized space, they’d have a far bleaker outlook on life. As for the front itself, it varied on an hourly basis.
Standing at my spot on the bridge, I waited, diverting my attention between my work-screen and the wall. My request to have a direct line to the data had been rejected, rendering me rather useless. All I knew was that our mission parameters had changed.
According to the shared FI report, several Fleet clusters had suffered a defeat, resulting in a minor Cassandrian invasion into the buffer zone. Details were lacking, but from what was mentioned, I was able to run a crude simulation based on known deployment. The armada commander had clearly overestimated his strength, pushing forward with seven hundred and eighteen ships in an attempt to wrestle away a choke point system from the enemy. It was a significant move in an insignificant part of the front. I could assume that was the reason for the captain in question to make such an attempt. With the major fights raging elsewhere, making a small advance could have paid off.
Unfortunately for everyone, the Cassandrians had ended up being better prepared than expected. The report suggested that the human ships were outnumbered seventy to one. The failed attack had resulted in an immediate withdrawal, followed by a complete relocation of forces in the area. The Fleet had scrambled reinforcements to reduce the spill, yet several systems had been lost. The location we were heading to wasn’t among them, but the increased Cassandrian presence had required that we re-plot our approach. The matter was serious enough to merit a yellow alert that bypassed my core’s security protocols, waking me up mid-sleep cycle.
“What are my options, Sof?” the captain asked. I felt a certain degree of pride looking at the combination of calm, alertness, and firmness with which she handled the situation. Her demeanor was of someone that had seen combat but preferred to avoid it.
“Data is still coming in, captain,” the ship replied with slight annoyance. “There are conflicting simulations regarding the Cassies’ progress. We might have to wait this out.”
“Alternatives?”
The people on the bridge looked at each other. Running my own limited simulation, I could tell that the decision was going to be bad either way.
“Ensign Elcy,” Quinn said. “Your thoughts?”
“We should follow the fastest non-confrontational path, captain. The longer we delay, the greater the chance of complications.”
“That’s insightful,” the XO said in a fake whisper, making sure that everyone heard him.
“The Cassandrians are interested in third-contact artifacts just as much as we are. If they discover there’s a dome system, they’ll flood the system with ships, no matter the casualties. If they take the planet, we’ll lose the piece and they’ll gain an anchor point that will change the front distribution.” I glanced at the XO. “If I may, I recommend contacting Fleet Command for orders.”
“Not an option,” the XO was quick to counter. “We’re to maintain full silence.”
There was no point in arguing. The XO’s attitude aside, we would have contacted someone from Command if it was possible.
“Sof, how long will that take us?”
“Seventy-one hours approximately, if there are no major changes,” the ship replied. “The ensign’s reasoning has merit, but I don’t believe it warrants the risk. There are other potential artifact planets. The time it would take to replace us will be greater than locating a new find.”
“Always the pragmatist.” Quinn cracked a smile. She then looked at me. “Time and survival percentages, based on your experience.”
“Depending on the planet and location of the artifact, it’ll take between a day and five to locate the dome. Extracting might go on for a month, depending on the specifics.”
A month in hostile territory… far longer than battles usually lasted. There were no ground troops, no backup ships, no chance of survival if it came to a real fight.
“Sof, can you cut down the survey time to two?”
“You’re always pushing it, captain. It’s possible, but not recommended.”
“Set a course. Remain on yellow alert. I want to know all changes as they happen.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the ship replied. “Preparing for jump in fifteen seconds,” he announced throughout the vessel. Briefly, it reminded me of back when I had my old husk. I was the one bringing my crew into combat then, and it was my job to be ready, even when I knew I was taking them into a trap.
* * *
Yrensi-Atol System, Cassandrian Front, 612.07 A.E. (Age of Exploration)
“Arriving in five seconds,” I announced ship-wide.
There wasn’t a soul aboard that didn’t know, but protocols had to be followed. I didn’t have the same freedom Augustus did. By the looks of things lately, he didn’t have much, either. The recent mutiny had been deemed serious by Fleet HQ, who requested that I send constant reports regarding the crew’s psychological state. Surprisingly, Augustus hadn’t objected.
“Jump complete.” I displayed a map of the system on the bridge wall.
The system seemed abandoned. According to the report we were given, there had been heavy fighting in the area, after which both sides seemed to have lost interest almost simultaneously and moved on to other strategic points. Officially, over eleven thousand of ships had been lost. Judging by the amount of debris I could detect, the number was at least twice as much.
Three more ships jumped in after me, all of them Ascendants.
“No enemy craft detected,” I announced. “We’re alone.”
“For the moment.” Augustus stood up from his chair. “Have all the ships do intense scans for the next hour. Head to the fifth planet.”
“Done.” I conveyed the order to the rest of the group.
Neither I nor Augustus were designated as operation lead, but no one dared challenge him on this. Rumors of his recent experience had spread a lot further than I estimated. Shipyards were always gossipy places, and having a living legend brought back from the front to be yelled at in person was a memorable event.
“Mission specifics, cap’n?” Wilco asked. The weapons officer was somewhat restless. Of everyone aboard, he had been with Augustus the longest, going back further than their personnel files. After all this time, though, I had managed to establish a reliable behavior pattern of his. By all signs, the man was displeased with something.
“After we scan the planet. Have everyone go to yellow alert.”
A combined close-range scan of the system revealed nothing but more ship remains. Once done, the three remaining ships ran a wide intersystem scan while I launched a wave of minisats and proceeded to scan the planet. No matter how many times I attempted to do so, no results came.
When Augustus ordered me to display my findings on the bridge, I knew that I was being actively thought quarantined. This had all the markings of another BICEFI op. According to my personal statistics, in over twenty-three percent of the cases, that didn’t end well.
How long will they have us do scans? Light Walker asked in the ship comm channel. He was considered a wild battleship, even among our cohort. By all odds, he should have been destroyed years ago, yet chance always seemed to be in his favor.
Until we’re told otherwise, I replied.
He’s your captain. Why not ask him?
I know what the answer will be. Why not ask any of yours?
Only your captain has the mission. Glowing Veil joined in the conversation. She had just undergone a massive reconstruction, resulting from being torn in two during an attack attempt. Thankfully, enough of her cores had been retrieved for her to re-join the front. We’re only to support and protect you.
Three ships against the Cassies? Light Walker said, expressing the doubt all of us felt. We won’t even be able to delay them for half an hour.
Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.
I didn’t want to admit it openly, but I was certain Glow was wrong. Ever since our arrival, I had dedicated half my subroutines to run simulations to determine the possible chances of survival. Unless we had orders to flee at the first sign of contact, our odds were nine-point-seven out of a hundred.
Twenty minutes after I’d started the planetary scan, Augustus removed the quarantine restrictions. A large area of the planet became visible, with everything on it.
The fifth of a seventeen-planet system, it was far from the system’s star, and its surface remained frozen. The small amount of gases created a perpetual cloud cover of frozen helium. Going deeper, there was nothing of particular significance in the planet’s core. What I did manage to find were several emergency beacons requesting immediate evacuation. The transmission protocols were up to date, even if it didn’t use standard comm methodology.
“No life remains detected,” I stated, not that anyone could survive in such a place for long without protective exo gear. Just to be sure, I performed a few more high-intensity scans of the area near the beacons but failed to find anything of significance. “I can’t detect any distinguishable equipment, either.”
“Apart from the beacons,” the comms officer corrected.
“Including the beacons. Based on all available data, there isn’t anything down there. It’s possible that the cloud cover is interfering with the scan. I recommend sending an auto-shuttle down there to—”
“Prep the ground troops,” Augustus barked. “Gear them up as appropriate and send them down one platoon at a time. Modify the shuttle, too: I don’t want them to freeze and break while going through that thing.”
“Conditions there are harsh, sir. Sending ground troops isn’t recommended.”
“Those are our mission orders. They’re to search and find all remains of all members of Mission Blue Phoenix. Specs will be given to the ground officers directly. You just provide the transport and be ready in case we need to evacuate.”
“Aye, captain.” I started constructing the exos required to keep a person alive on the planet’s surface.
“Tell the other ships to process the local space junk and fly it to you. All the grunts are for the planet.”
Given the size of the beacon area, I didn’t see the need for it. My objections, though, were yet again overruled. And so began the slow and tedious process of constructing exos and transporting them to the planetary surface.
As each squad hit the planet, their bio readings jumped through the roof and remained there. I had no idea what was happening down below, but I could tell it wasn’t remotely pleasant. On several occasions I requested permission to follow events through the grunt’s cameras but was denied. To my surprise, the refusal didn’t come from Augustus himself, but an unknown outside source. They had the required permissions and full mission authority. The only thing that was left for me was to keep on creating exos and monitor the situation.
The hours became days, then weeks. Even with the assistance of all three ships, transforming the blocks of metal alloy into anything suitable for the ground troops was a production nightmare. The Fleet had never intended on sending hundreds of thousands of people in heavy exo gear to a planet. Every ship had the capacity to easily create a few hundred such constructs, but not more. To make matters worse, spare parts had to be dropped down on a regular basis.
Base modules also became a must. Those were to be dropped in parallel with the troops, ensuring they had a place to repair their tech. Food supplies came in the form of food tubes—the only containers that could provide nourishment within the exos without the soldiers dying in the process.
After the third week, ground troop casualties marked a sharp increase. Even with multiple temporary bases on the planet, exhaustion had reached the level at which mistakes were starting to show. Every hour, a few dozen people would die, often in groups, all due to a perfectly avoidable mistake. When the total reached one thousand, I took direct action.
“Captain,” I said directly in his quarters, bypassing the privacy mode he had set. Normally, I wouldn’t dare, but a loss of a thousand people was considered an emergency circumstance, granting me the right to do so. “We’ve passed the thousand casualty mark.”
“So? Quit being a rookie.” A quick analysis of his voice suggested that Augustus was half asleep.
“Future deaths can be avoided. Based on the bio-reading, I’ve estimated that they are doing double shifts in harsh conditions. The patterns aren’t typical for prolonged combat, so I can conclude that they are doing a different sort of activity. Regulations clearly state that—”
“If they don’t push themselves, a bloody ground war is what’s going to happen!” he shouted.
Instantly, I checked the latest long-range scans as well as the Fleet report of enemy movements. There were no indications that we were in any danger. And still, an analysis of my captain’s voice pattern indicated that he was being truthful.
“What is the mission, sir?”
“It’s not for you to know.”
“That never stopped you in the past.”
Thousands of milliseconds of silence were followed by laughter.
“I’ve taught you too many of my bad habits. Well, what the heck. It’s a crap mission, anyway.” Based on the sounds, I could tell he got out of bed.
“Is it a third-contact scenario?”
“Damned if I know. All I was told was to gather all the remains from a previous mission that crashed down there. And I mean everything. Every body, every ship part, every toenail if I have to. It’s to be bagged, tagged, then transported in secure containers aboard. Naturally, you won’t know anything about it.”
“Naturally, sir.” There were times that I hated thought quarantine. It seriously interfered with mission efficiency. If I were allowed to link to the soldiers’ feeds, I could spot objects multiple times better than human eyes. There was a nineteen percent chance that the mission would already be over. Of course, some bureaucrat somewhere had deemed that I didn’t have the security clearance to know the operational parameters.
“All the large items are back onboard, so the poor bastards are freezing to death, digging up dirt and seeking fragments until the mission overlords have had enough. And the best part is that at the first sign of Cassies, we’re to jump out and leave them behind.”
The sound of that sent waves of pain through my conscience cores. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d been ordered to abandon soldiers, but it didn’t get any easier.
“That’s why they’re pushing themselves to work so fast. The grunts aren’t that stupid, they know how things stand. If they’re not aboard when the Cassies arrive, they won’t be here at all.”
I reviewed all internal video feed footage from my entry in the system. There were no indications that anything had been taken aboard. The only things that had entered my hangars were empty shuttles which had then left, sometimes after a quick repair.
“Is the mission worth it, sir?”
“Damned if I know. Most of them are.”
I could almost hear the unsaid part. In the rest of the cases, it was a matter of people covering up their own incompetence. In all likelihood, it was the former, though that didn’t make it much better. Given the potential losses, we might as well have joined a front hot spot.
* * *
Things had occurred just as Augustus had said they would. One week after our conversation, a small Cassandrian fleet was spotted approaching the system. Immediately, I and the other ships were put on high alert. The moment the first enemy ships entered the system, I jumped out. Three hours separated the two events and yet there had been no call for evacuation. The ground troops had been kept in the dark up to the moment when I was no longer there.
I had made several requests for an all-out ground bombardment. Killing my own was going to be beyond painful, but a quick death was preferable to leaving them to slowly freeze. My requests were denied. Months later, I heard from a ship that had gone in the area that the remains of my grunts had been found during a planetary scan. All of them had gathered in the temp bases, clustered together in their final moments. I could only hope that the outcome of this mission would be different.
On the surface, there were several things in my favor this time. The crew, myself included, were highly valued individuals under the direct command of an arbiter. We wouldn’t be sacrificed for no reason. On the other hand, keeping a dome from falling into Cassandrian hands was enough reason in itself.
We jumped through three systems on our way through the buffer zone, then stopped. The Cassandrian invasion was progressing faster than anticipated, changing the front line considerably. The Fleet had decided to pull back its forces in one section while pushing forward in a spot where enemy numbers were considered thinned due to the displacement. That made things more precarious for us. While the Cassies hadn’t moved in the direction of our target system as of yet, a greater enemy presence increased the chances of them doing so. Already there was more talk among the bridge officers that the best outcome we could hope for was to find that the planet had no dome on it. The flight path was readjusted, causing us to take even a longer route.
Due to the seriousness of the situation, the captain ordered us to go to red alert status. Everyone on the bridge was replaced by the second shift and sent to get some rest; everyone except the captain, the XO, and myself. As a retired battleship, I could maintain peak efficiency for another ten hours.
On the tenth jump spot, the captain ordered a one hour pause. Her intentions were clear: as unlikely as it were, having a ship jump too much, too quickly, could be detected and attract unwanted attention. To avoid this, we were going to establish a calm time between jumps, doubling it each time. That meant that from this point on, it was going to take us approximately seven hours to reach our destination.
Boredom settled in, creeping through every section of the ship. At first, the command staff spent every minute following the chatter from the Fleet. After a while, a tit-for-tat pattern was established. According to my simulations, the Cassandrians were on the verge of overextending themselves, but remained stronger than any defending Fleet forces. Simultaneously, our own advance had grinded to a halt, engaging in heavy fighting in three systems of medium strategic importance.
I attempted to discuss my findings with Sof, who in typical fashion scoffed at my initiative. Even so, after a while, he admitted that he had agreed with my general conclusion.
The next jump passed seamlessly. The system was empty, occupied by two worthless planets orbiting a small white dwarf. When the two hours of waiting began, the captain reduced the bridge staff to its minimal level, though she had us remain on red alert.
“Elcy, walk with me,” the captain said, making her way off the bridge. “XO, bridge is yours.”
“Yes, ma’am. XO has the bridge,” he replied, going to the captain’s seat.
Several people glanced at me as I followed the captain. I could appreciate the weird position they were in. How do you deal with a junior officer who was their captain’s grandmother? The moment I managed to find the answer, I intended to share it with them.
“Your thoughts?” Quinn asked as we walked through the corridor to her quarters.
“Regarding our mission or the Cassandrian advancement, ma’am?”
“Both.”
“The Cassies aren’t good at tactical thinking. If they were aware of the presence of a dome, they’d have gone there in force, losses be damned.”
“A lot could have changed since your time on the front.”
“Until there are reports of new ship classes, there’s little to worry about, ma’am. If I’m allowed a direct feed to the information, I could make sure that there’s no danger for the mission.”
“Always demanding special treatment.” The slight changes in her voice indicated that she was smiling. “Very well. Sof, give her a direct feed. Battle reports nothing else.”
“Yes, captain,” the battleship agreed reluctantly. A millisecond later, waves of data flowed into my conscience core. Not too long ago, that would have been enough to drown me. Thanks to the auxiliary core LUX had given me, I could handle it without issue.
“And the mission?”
“I think you’re being overly cautious, ma’am. The time wasted between jumps outweighs the potential advantages of remaining hidden.”
“Why? You said the Cassies react on instinct.”
“It’s a probability game, ma’am. We aren’t the only ship moving through the buffer zone. If they are already watching the system, they have an interest in it. If not, we’re reducing our available time to find and extract the dome.”
Quinn stopped in front of the door to the captain’s quarters. I was almost certain she had already considered the possibility. In a way, it reminded me of back when she was little. Even when she had made up her mind, she’d come talk to me for mental support. Back then, she’d occasionally use me as an excuse in front of her parents should they grumble at her. I was fairly sure she had outgrown that, but even so, she wanted a clear state of mind.
“A double jump?” She looked at me over her shoulder.
“I find that would be optimal, ma’am.”
“Sof, what do your simulations say?”
“The odds are in our favor. The ensign is correct on this point. However, that will decrease our warning window. If there’s a new change in the front in the next six hours, we’d be at a serious disadvantage.”
“That’s why you have the authority to decide, ma’am.” I stepped in. “In one scenario, we’d be at increased risk for the next six hours. In the other, we’ll be at risk all the time after that. On the front, there’s only one guarantee.”
“Sooner or later, you end up dead,” the captain said beneath her breath. It was the sad truth, and one of the reasons that people were allowed to request to transfer to non-combat duty after one tour. “Make the calculations,” Quinn ordered. “Inform the XO and the crew. I want us ready to scan the moment we’re there.”
“Understood, captain,” the battleship acknowledged.
“Back to your post, Ensign. I’m relying on you to find the goods.”
“Yes, ma’am!”
Moments later, Sof made a ship-wide announcement regarding the upcoming jump.
