group. But finally she had the undivided attention of the escape committee.
“Well, everybody, I still have trouble believing it, but it’s true. All being well, we’ll be going home and…” Kerri couldn’t continue as emotion overwhelmed her and every other member of the group. All were of an age at which they had too much invested in the past to contemplate a new life, at which it was too late to start again, and the thought that all that was precious and dear to them might be restored was almost too much to take.
But finally, the group settled down and Kerri was able to start again. She was pleased this time to see emotion slowly replaced by a steely determination to do whatever it would take to make their escape from Eternity happen.
“Okay. Here’s what we have to do, and we don’t have a lot of time to do it in, so pay attention. First up, meet a friend of mine.”
The shock was total as the leading edges of two small mounds of rock just outside the pool of light lifted to reveal the smiling faces of two marines. The mouths of the escape committee members were hanging as far open as breather masks would allow, and the silence was total.
Major Anschar Shao, Federated Worlds Marines (retired), was the first to recover.
“Christ,” she said, “chromaflage certainly has come a long way since my day. But it’s good to see you, by God. I can’t tell you how good.”
“Likewise, Major,” replied the first marine, “Lance Corporal Jensch and Marine Maziz at your service, sir. Now, please, our time is limited because we need to be safely tucked up by moonrise. Two things. We need to get all of your neuronics modified so you can talk securely among yourselves and to us. When that’s done, we’ve got some holocams we’d like placed and some whisker laser rebroadcast units to cover some blank spots in our neuronics network, and when that’s finished, we’ll hand over to Commodore Helfort. That gives us less than three hours, so if I could have you, Major, and you, Captain Zuma. Just sit down with your backs to us and leave the rest to us.”
Monday, November 16, 2398, UD
One after the other in quick succession, the four deepspace heavy patrol ships of Task Force 683 dropped into normalspace over 30 million kilometers out from Hell, their arrival announced only by the briefest flashes of ultraviolet.
The
This was a very unpopular maneuver, with captains understandably concerned about exposing their ships’ poorly armored sides to any loose rock or debris in their path as the ships coasted in-system at 150,000 kph. But it had to be done.
Slowly the ships’ sensors sucked data from every part of the electromagnetic spectrum and from every direction. The massive sensor AIs crunched terabytes of data a second as the threat plot located and displayed every ship, every satellite, and every fixed installation in the Hell system, all prioritized by proximity and threat.
Kawaguchi could see it all, feeling godlike as she looked down on the Hammers going about their business, unaware that they were being watched.
Even from more than 30 million kilometers away, she could see the characteristic signature of a Hammer mership. Judging by her vector as it boosted out-system en route, it was bound for the planet Faith in the Retribution Star system 3.75 light-years away. Farther out, a Hammer warship boosted out-system. It was an old Constancy class light escort judging by its electromagnetic profile and was identified by Mother as the
The long drawn-out process went on, the sensors gradually sorting the electronic chaos into an orderly picture of Hammer activity across trillions of cubic kilometers of space. Most important, Kawaguchi was relieved to see the threat plot turn and stay a uniform orange. Her orders were very specific. She was to jump back into pinchspace immediately irrespective of vector the instant the threat level escalated to red.
“Command, command AI.”
“Go ahead.”
“Threat plot is orange. Mission prime directive met. Ready to commence deployment.”
“Command, roger. Deploy.”
For five minutes, the local plot showed nothing more than the four warships, now back in a loose line abreast, coasting in-system. And then, from each ship there began to emerge a growing line of little dots, each dot representing a single Sandfly deepspace starship simulator, all shepherded clear by unseen EVA teams.
With a flattened, stealth-coated ovoid cross section broadening sharply out into a blunt bow making it look like a hammerhead shark, the Sandfly was the Federated Worlds’ latest and most sophisticated deepspace ship simulator. It was able to replicate any ship, from the most dilapidated tramp mership running the trade routes to the Far Planets up to and including the Feds’ latest, the Seagirt class deepspace heavy cruiser.
The Sandfly came complete with a boost engine aft, double redundant microfusion plants amidships, and banks of transmitters forward capable of simulating almost any active emitter ever built, from the 10-meter VHF radio band through all the radar and satcomm bands, military and civilian, up to 400-nanometer ultraviolet comms lasers. Together with Krachov microshrouds, active jammers, radar echo enhancers, AI-controlled voice spoofers, pinchspace drop simulators, and all the other tricks of the electronic countermeasures world, the Sandfly was an impressive piece of equipment.
Today, Task Force 683’s job was to send 120 of them straight down the throat of an unsuspecting Hammer.
Not that the starship simulators would look like FedWorld warships when the time came. No, that would be too obvious. When they went active, they would look like no warships the Hammer had ever seen, and then, when their job of thoroughly confusing matters was done, they would explode into dust. Probably the most expensive dust ever, Kawaguchi thought cynically.
Three hours later and the deployment was complete. The starship simulators were arrayed in a rectangle 8,000 kilometers across and 2,000 high, the classic heavy battle fleet formation for a direct attack on a heavily defended planetary system.
As the starship simulators took up station, they were followed by a cluster of pinchcomsat killers, each one a small football-sized black sphere mounted on top of a small boost engine and carrying a fuel cell, a close-range attack laser, an integrated star/inertial navigation system, and a tiny low-power optical targeting system.
“Command, command AI. Ready to launch.”
“Command, roger. Launch.”
And with that, 136 stars flared into existence as booster rockets smashed the starship simulators and pinchcomsat killers on their way toward their targets and then, just as quickly, winked out, their job done.
“That was pretty,” Kawaguchi murmured.
Five minutes later, Kawaguchi and her ships jumped into pinchspace.
Thursday, November 19, 2398, UD
The usual gut-wrenching jump delivered the seven ships of Rear Admiral Kzela’s Task Force 681 safely into Eternity nearspace 525,000 kilometers out. That was far enough for the low-grade sensors on the only Hammer
