Twilight Serenade, page 7
part #6 of Earth Song Series
A dozen screens appeared around Lilith, and she spun around slowly, taking in the information. Minu knew she got her data partly through the implants in her brain and partly through visual cues. She couldn’t explain why she used both, it just felt natural.
“I now have full magazines of shipkillers,” she said as she finished surveying the screens, “and a considerable stock in reserve. Power is at capacity, and reserves are topped off. Shuttles are secured, drives on standby. Now, we wait.”
The minutes crept by as the ship glided toward the long-dead star system. Minu knew sensors were tasting the energy coming from inside the system, trying to understand what was there. The ship began to penetrate the screen provided by the supernova ejecta when it changed course and started to accelerate.
“What’s the chance it noticed us?”
“Low,” Lilith said. She watched with her sensors as the distant ship accelerated to hundreds of times the speed of light. “It will shortly be out of sensor range.”
“You think we’re safe?”
“It is likely the incident was noted, and a scout ship will investigate later. That ship’s actions suggest it was on a mission and didn’t want to delay overly long.”
Minu nodded and watched the screens for a while before taking out her own tablet and accessing information. She checked the work schedule for the salvage operations. Estimates suggested they needed two more days to get all the Ibeen space ready. The Fiisk was another matter. “I’m afraid we might have to abandon the battlecruiser.”
“I would hesitate to do that,” Lilith responded instantly. Minu knew Lilith had become excited when they decided the huge warship was salvageable. She’d told her mother it could be a game changer. The behemoth was built with a different combat doctrine than the comparably tiny Kaatan. Lilith’s ship was a quick, deadly killer. The Fiisk was a tornado of destruction able to wade into battle and stay there, dealing out death, while absorbing incomprehensible amounts of damage. “We’d have to destroy it rather than leave it to be salvaged by the T’Chillen, or any other higher order species.”
“That goes without saying.”
“But this may be the only Fiisk left in the galaxy. It has a considerable amount of firepower and would anchor our fleet’s combat ability.”
“I understand that, but I don’t see a way around it. Your initial estimate suggests it will take more than a week to get the drives on line and an unknown amount of time to put together an operating system to pilot the ship. I remember what we went through trying to move this ship without you, Lilith.”
“The Fiisk is many times more complicated because it was designed to operate with a Combat Intelligence, a Tactical Intelligence and a Fleet Intelligence.”
“So, who knows if it will even be possible to operate the thing without those specialized AI?”
Lilith nodded. “That’s true, but there might be another option, at least to move the ship to a safer location.”
“Okay,” Minu said, willing to listen.
“And there is another compelling reason to move it.” Minu waited. “The Combat Intelligence has recovered memories of the last several battles it was part of, including salvage locations similar to this one.”
* * * * *
Chapter 11
February 2nd, 535 AE
Ghost Fleet, Deep Space, Galactic Frontier
They ended up using large sections of ruined hull to shield the sides of the Ibeen as the Beezer crew finished heavy repair operations. Minu continued to be amazed by how quickly the big grazers took to working and living in space. They’d work outside with no safety measures other than a thin moliplas cable for more than twenty hours at a stretch, move aboard to eat and sleep for a few hours, then go back out and do it again. Who would have thought a species that was accustomed to grassy plains would love space as much as Lilith?
Once the repairs on Ibeen Epsilon were complete, and its main power restored via the improvised EPC, most of the work crews moved into frenzied action on the Fiisk. Minu retained a small group of workers. “I’m not of much use on the technical stuff,” she told Lilith, “so I’ll supervise the loading of the last of the salvage, then go through the smaller wrecks.”
It wasn’t sexy work, but it needed to be done. Using the advanced gravitic planers on the three Eseel gunboats, they began loading the smaller sections of wrecked ships that Lilith had tagged as useful and all the Kaatan shuttles they’d found into the titanic cargo balls of the operational Ibeen.
The cargo ships didn’t have external gravitational controls, so they used the Eseel gunboat to move the sections to the Ibeen and gently nudge them through the massive clamshell doors on each cargo ball. Once inside the bay, the Ibeen’s semi-autonomous systems took over and secured materials for transit, under the direction of the crew.
During a lull in the work, Minu met with Lilith and the revived Combat Intelligence, and it explained the reason for the derelicts.
“We were part of a large fleet retreating while fighting against enemy forces,” the CI said, its English getting better every day. “We’d participated in a counter-offensive against a species that, according to your records, does not exist anymore. Regrettably, T’Chillen reinforcements arrived to relieve the other species, forcing us to retreat.
“Continuous, harassing attacks along our lines of retreat were bleeding our forces. The fleet commander elected to perform an interdiction during one of those harassing attacks. It was then that I was critically damaged.”
Minu took notes on her tablet as the CI spoke. After a few entries, she spoke. “Lilith said that several other derelict groups were abandoned as you retreated.”
“That is correct,” the CI replied.
“Can you show us where, please.”
“Certainly,” it said. The CIC lights dimmed, and half the room became a map of the Milky Way galaxy. The CI zoomed inward, focusing on part of one spiral arm. A point flashed in green, and a line led away from it. It moved straight until it began flashing, then an arrow pointed to a place several light years off the main course and continued onward.
Every hundred light years or so a new flash indicated another battle and showed where the damaged units were abandoned. After the CI marked a final point, the map ended. The point indicated the location where the CI’s ship was damaged, not far from where they currently were.
Minu felt a moment of pity for the machine. Its crew was long dead, taken out in a battle during a war, and they never knew how it turned out.
“Lilith, have you reviewed these locations?”
“Yes, Mom,” Lilith said. “Of the six locations we learned about from this CI, two are considered dangerous based on their proximity to higher order species and their probable starship assets. They have already been discovered or are too close to aggressive species to risk direct evaluation.
“Another is no longer there. I passed within a light hour of it, and I can confirm there was nothing. Whether this means enemy units found it or the People salvaged it is unknown.”
“That leaves three,” Minu said.
“Exactly. The direction of the fleet’s withdrawal is roughly parallel to the track we would take to return to Bellatrix. Examining the first two sites carries little risk. The final one is trickier. I have observed aggressive ships in that area before.”
“Do we know if there is a colony or leasehold that belongs to a higher order species there?” Kal’at asked. When they told the Rasa scientist there were more caches like the one they were working on, he’d been quite excited.
“Unfortunately, except for observed worlds or public knowledge, I don’t know,” Lilith admitted. “Our species’ status as a client severely limits our access in the same way other species can’t access our information.”
“That will soon change,” Minu said, half to herself. “Mark number three as tentative. We’ll plan on surveying the other two at least.” Lilith nodded in agreement, glad her mother had seen the wisdom of the idea. Kal’at blinked rapidly, a sign of excitement. “CI, do you have lists of the equipment we might find?”
“The lists are not comprehensive,” the computer said. “During the relief and triage of elements after a battle, the Kaatans were tasked with perimeter defense. But there was data available about assets had we needed to replenish.”
“What kinds of ships and numbers are at the closest location?”
“That was the battle that led the fleet commander to try and stop the harassing attacks. We lost two Fiisk, one Kaatan, and our two remaining Kiile.”
“What are those?” Minu asked, “I’ve never heard of that class.”
“Carriers,” Lilith said.
“Your husband would be excited,” Kal’at pointed out.
Minu nodded. Aaron would have been thrilled. Flying was one of his greatest passions. “We have our decision. We’ll finish our salvage operation here, then we’ll make for Dervish.”
* * *
They spent a day finishing the salvage of the large ship parts Lilith deemed the most useful. When she began, there seemed to be an immense amount of salvage, sections of several dozen hulks. Once they were done, it all fit into six of the thirty cargo balls on Ibeen Alpha. The 1,500-meter-long ship was six times the length of the Fiisk battlecruiser, and almost nine times as long as the Kaatan.
Only the savaged wreck of the Kaatan which held the new Combat Intelligence remained. It was too large to fit into any of the cargo modules, even on the Ibeen. However, Lilith was sure they could fix one of the three severely damaged ball sections of the Fiisk in time. They wouldn’t have enough space to effectively mate the remains of the Kaatan within the hull of the Fiisk, but they could make do. “It’s not an ideal solution,” Lilith explained, “but we’ll be able to link the two ships’ systems enough to move it out of here.” The Combat Intelligence seemed game.
Minu and her team utilized the Eseel to maneuver the crippled Kaatan hulk into position, then the Beezer took over. Again, feeling like she was of no help, Minu left the Beezer and her daughter to work on the battlecruiser while she took one of the Eseel and began to explore.
The ghost fleet floated in a space that had once been an L5 point in a dead star system. The minuscule amount of light given off by the brown dwarf, a pale shadow of what was once a thriving F-class star, was barely enough to see by. The planet that balanced the dwarf star was a burned cinder orbiting in the system’s old life belt. The globular cluster, the remains of the star’s life force, continue to expand outward and had dissipated to the point of being almost invisible to the naked eye.
Minu flew the Eseel with relative ease. The controls were just as intuitive as those on Lilith’s shuttles, even though the pilot’s area was configured for the much smaller People. Lilith said she could fix that later, when time allowed. The cockpit was designed to hold four, a pilot, a copilot, a gunner, and a shield operator, who did double duty as an engineer.
Though the craft had a normal crew of four, it could easily be operated by one being in most situations, which was why Lilith could control many at once, even while fighting the Kaatan.
She orbited the planet, a mottled black sphere that reminded her of Remus. The Eseel’s sensors had better resolution than those on just about any other ship she’d been on. She went around the planet twice, letting the sensors work, but found nothing of interest, so she broke orbit and headed outward.
The next planet out had been a gas giant before the primary exploded. The computer modeled the fate of that world, which was effectively blown into the interstellar wind. A small core not much bigger than a medium-sized asteroid was all that remained.
The next orbit revealed a planet more than twice the size of Bellatrix. The computer located it just outside the system’s original life belt. She couldn’t tell from the readings if it had ever been more than a big ball of rock crisscrossed with fissures and volcanoes. As Minu approached, the computer plotted a moon in orbit which she thought was unusual considering what had transpired in the system.
When she closed to less than 100,000 kilometers, the computer suddenly updated the sensor information. It wasn’t a moon; it was a cluster of battle-damaged ships. The computer couldn’t explain how they had ended up where they did. Minu hypothesized that the shockwave from the exploded star carried some of the wrecked ships into the planet’s orbit. That seemed as reasonable as any explanation the computer could come up with.
“I found more ships,” Minu told her daughter over their link. “I’m sending you the data.”
Lilith was quiet as she analyzed the information. “What you found appears to be parts of three more Fiisks and an unknown number of other classes. It’s a shame we may not have much time to investigate.”
“I’ll take a look while you finish working on the Fiisk.”
Minu maneuvered in next to the ‘moon’ and used the ship’s sensors to give it a thorough going over. With the help of Lilith’s data, it was easy to identify the various parts and see how they fit into the huge jigsaw puzzle. It was a twisted pile of wreckage, and there appeared to be no way to get inside. She was about to give up when the computer identified an airlock.
“I have an entry point,” she told Lilith.
“I see it, Mother. I don’t think you should go in by yourself.”
“You do know who’s First here, don’t you?” Silence. “I have the bots you sent with me, I’ll be fine.”
“Please be careful with my future sibling.”
Minu smiled and touched her growing belly. “Little person is nice and safe.” And he or she will already be used to zero gravity when born, she thought.
She set the Eseel to close on the lock and went aft. She was already wearing most of her spacesuit so all she needed to do was attach the support pack to her chest and put on gloves and the frighteningly thin helmet. That just left the bots.
Despite the number of times she’d seen Lilith use them, Minu had no confidence in the blue crystalline constructs. She didn’t know how they worked or how to control them; she only knew that Lilith had tasked them to do her bidding. With a sigh, she held out a hand. Instantly, the half dozen bots that had been hanging from the bulkhead of the Eseel leapt over and landed on her outstretched hand.
She tried not to shiver as they moved around her body, positioning themselves. Two joined around her torso and one around each of her limbs. Once they’d settled, she didn’t notice they were there. The machines couldn’t have weighed more than a few dozen grams each, but they made her feel strangely safe.
Minu ran the diagnostics on her suit using the control pad on her right forearm, and once it confirmed everything was good to go, she left the pilot cabin, went to the rear, and decompressed the bay. Space loomed, and she had nothing to keep her from drifting away but the six alien bots.
Imitating her daughter, Minu leaned out and pointed with her hands. The bots used their field generators to propel her into space. “Are you sure this is safe?” she asked her daughter.
“Completely.”
“What if they break down?”
“While it’s unlikely any would fail,” Lilith said from far away, “you only need one functioning unit to return to the shuttle.”
Feeling more confident, Minu spent a few minutes learning how to use gestures to maneuver. The bots were surprisingly intuitive, and in minutes she was flying back and forth with ease. Her confidence boosted, she flew toward the moon of debris.
Her HUD took her to the airlock. The computer said it was an anterior dorsal section of a Fiisk heavy cruiser. Up close, the magnitude of the debris was incredible. The moon was composed of the remains of dozens of ships gathered there by unknown forces.
She examined the lock and confirmed there was no power. Tapping the bot on her right arm with her left finger, she pointed at the lock and traced a line along the dualloy door. A moment later the bot assaulted the doorway, following her indicated line exactly, and easily sliced through the ultra-strong, hybrid metal.
Once the beam cut off, she grabbed the lock’s central grip and pulled. The cut section released with no resistance. Minu tossed it, and it drifted away, revealing the interior.
Lilith had warned her against using too much of the bots’ power, so she was relieved to find the interior door standing open. Flicking on her suit’s lights, she entered.
Minu flew around the interior hallways for a few minutes, examining equipment spaces and empty chambers with unknown uses. It was obvious the ship had been thoroughly salvaged. She was about to give up when she came to a closed door. The bulkhead was buckled right down the middle, probably from whatever force had destroyed the ship.
Since she was about done exploring, Minu figured expending some more power was not going to put her in danger. She activated the bot again, cut a circle around the perimeter of the door, and almost died.
Minu never thought about the load the door might be under from the buckling wall until the bot’s beam cut through, and the door shot out at her.
“Shit!” she yelped, instinctively raising her right arm to shield her face. The door slammed into her and pounded her against the bulkhead with enough force to rattle her teeth and make her see stars.
“Are you okay, Mother?” Lilith’s worried voice came over the link. Minu shook her head, trying to clear the cobwebs. “Mom? I’m moving the ship to you.”
“No,” Minu finally managed. “I’m okay. I just made a stupid move with a piece of debris.”
“Is your suit compromised?”
Minu shook her head again and raised her left arm, examining the control interface. The suit’s integrity was intact. A small cloud of blue shards floated around her. The bot on that arm had exploded from the impact. “Suit’s fine, but one of your bots is toast.”
“Please return to the shuttle.”
“I will, right after I check out this room. Might as well, after it tried to kill me.” Lilith didn’t say anything else, so Minu maneuvered into the room and looked around inside. “It’s a storage bay,” she said, “there are racks of octagonal crates with mounting points, and there are tracks throughout the space.”
