Two Worlds – Chapter 182

Benjamin Gold

Location: CWS Argo, New Lancashire, United Commonwealth of Colonies

“Five minutes until transition,” Spacer Apprentice Gilbert announced from the helm.

Ben’s fingers drummed steadily against his armrest as Argo rocketed through space in its Alcubierre bubble. He was deep in thought, not only for what he needed to do, but what he’d seen.

<Thousands of spacers dead…our offensive firepower in the Sector gutted by our allies…and those same allies taking on the Blockies…> The jumbled data in his head didn’t make any sense.

It was clear the Star Kingdom of Windsor was making a play for the York Sector, but after that was where things got confusing. It would have been smarter to ride the Commonwealth’s coattails until the Blockies in the area were completely crippled. That way they wouldn’t be fighting a war on two fronts. Any commander in human history would say it was better to fight one enemy than two, especially if both the enemies you were fighting were the predominant interstellar powers. Attacking the Commonwealth task force was premature and reckless.

<Their tech…> Ben didn’t know what to think about that. He’d seen a single cruiser kick major ass. Granted, the Commonwealth ships hadn’t seen the surprise attack coming, but the offensive and defensive advancements the Kingdom had at their disposal altered the paradigm of warfare.

<Even then…> It didn’t matter how good your tech was if you didn’t have depth.

A nation like the Commonwealth or Blockies couldn’t survive without depth. They needed offensive fleets to take the fight to the enemy. They needed fixed defensive structures and ships to protect important systems, and they needed an armada of vessels to guard the trade routes that were the life blood of their economies. It didn’t matter if the Kingdom’s cruiser could take down five times its number, because the Commonwealth could throw twenty times right back in their face.

It all reeked of recklessness, and from the time Ben had spent with members of the Star Kingdom’s High Nobility, he knew they were anything but reckless.

<I’m missing something.> Ben scratched his head, but the clock on the holo-tank was dropping quickly toward zero. All he needed to do now was relay the information and let the Admirals figure out the plan.

“Status?” Ben did his best to sound supremely confident.

“All departments are green, Sir,” LT Briggs replied. The destruction of the task force had shaken the XO at first, but her professionalism was back.

Ben nodded and waited for them to reenter normal space, “three…two…one…transition.”

Argo gave a buck as she entered normal space that would have thrown anyone not strapped in to the deck. “Report!” Ben yelled.

“Gravity fluctuation.” LT Briggs replied as her fingers flew across her console. “Stabilizing.”

The shudder that had ripped through Argo subsided. “Damage control? Engineering?”

“We’re green, Sir.” Spacer Lee’s voice replied from the back of the ship. “Just a bumpy arrival.”

The reason for the bumpiness quickly became apparent. “Navigation,” Ben said through gritted teeth. “Why are we half a billion kilometers in the wrong direction?” Their proximity to a planet that was not New Lancashire was what had caused the fluctuation.

The holo-tank’s star chart automatically updated and quickly told Ben that they were nowhere near where they were supposed to be. In fact, they were in the worst possible place to transmit their message back to Abraham Lincoln and RADM Nelson.

Their one-minute light bubble of data continued to expand, but Ben had bigger plans. He’d carried over as much acceleration as possible from the transition to get back to the assault carrier as quickly as possible. That was now working against him. He was rocketing through space in the wrong direction, and that space between him and his target were rapidly increasing each second.

“Helm, slingshot around the planet.” He did the math on the fly, and hoped it would work. “Comms, find me a relay. I don’t want to broadcast this system wide and start a panic. Plus, Neville Chamberlain is still with the main fleet body. The last thing we need is a dreadnaught ripping into our people at point blank range.” Ben shuddered at the thought. “Get to it!”

Ben’s frustration leaked through as he yelled at everyone to get back to work. A slight tremble went through the ship as she course corrected at high speeds, but from the projected course it looked like Gilbert was making it work. They’d slingshot around the planet and be on a least time course back toward New Lancashire.

“Lieutenant Commander Gold, I would like to inform you that micro corrections made by myself during transit decreased our time in Alcubierre by twelve percent. I have detailed the data for further study. The saving on exotic matter fuel alone will save the Commonwealth Fleet billions of…”

“Not now, Geoffrey.” Ben cut off the Semi-Intelligent Ship’s Interface. Increasing the efficiency of Alcubierre transit was not at the top of his to-do list.

“Got it, Sir.” SP2 Olvera announced from her communications station. “I’ve got a platform in the belt on a remote smelter. Sending military override codes now.”

The relay on the smelter was sixty million kilometers to their stern, and the time to transmit to it was shrinking the closer Argo got to slingshotting behind the planet. It was a six minute and forty second round trip for Olvera to get confirmation that she had control of the smelter’s comms relay.

“Send it.” Ben breathed a sigh of relief as the data stream left the Argo just before it disappeared behind the dark side of the planet.

The message had to go the long way: sixty million kilometers to the relay and then another three hundred million to Abraham Lincoln’s comms suite for a total of a twenty minute transition time. Argo had already emerged out of the dark side and was rocketing back toward New Lancashire when Ben’s message reached the Abe’s officer of the watch.

“All Commonwealth Fleet assets, this is Lieutenant Commander Gold of CWS Argo. The task force assigned to destroy the Blockie mobile dockyard in the Hahn System has been destroyed. They were stabbed in the back by the Star Kingdom of Windsor’s cruiser Benjamin Disraeli. All hands are presumed lost. The cruiser then proceeded to attack the Blockie force and the dockyard. Sensor data of the engagement before we transitioned is attached. It is my professional opinion that the Star Kingdom is attempting to take control of the York Sector. All Fleet vessels should prepare for an attack, and the HMS Neville Chamberlin should be quarantined, boarded, and taken if at all possible. The engagement showed the Star Kingdom has advanced offensive weapons and defensive countermeasures beyond what we originally thought. Swift preparations need to be taken if we are to survive. Lieutenant Commander Gold, out.”

Ben was still several hours from rendezvous with the planet and awaiting a response when LT Briggs went rigid in her chair. “What is it, XO?”

Ben was busy watching the tactical outlay. The ship had automatically received an update from STRATNET when their ID was confirmed and a signal finally reached them. It showed that they weren’t in danger yet. In fact, HMS Neville Chamberlin seemed to be running drills on the edge of the system, but it was a large unknown vessel sitting close to Abe that his focus was drawn to.

“We’ve got an FTL footprint, Sir.”

Ben’s eyes snapped to the hyper limit and saw the large blob manifesting. The data was still being compiled, but even a midshipman could see whatever was arriving was going to be big.

<Has already arrived.> Ben corrected himself. The time lag was still fifteen minutes. Whatever was bearing down on New Lancashire had arrived ten to twelve minutes ago.

 

***

 

Mark “Coop” Cooper

Location: New Lancashire, United Commonwealth of Colonies

 

“Nope.” Coop waved his arms and shook his head back and forth. “No fucking way with a side of I’ll shove your head up your ass if you’re even thinking about this.” Coop glared at Mike as they walked off the Spyder that had transported them back down to the planet.

The meeting with Bob the alien had concluded after the ET explained Splitstreaming. Another meeting was scheduled for later, along with a tour of Bob’s big-ass ship. After the success of the initial meeting the RADM didn’t think it prudent to have a squad of HI involved, and even if he did, Coop wasn’t going to be part of that detail. Coop’s big mouth had fucked him again.

“Report to your Company when you return, Corporal.” The MSG had sneered when Coop boarded the shuttle, and Coop knew nothing good was waiting for him on the ground.

That was still better than the Splitstreaming conversation. Coop would take extra duty over that ET’s idea of a mode of transportation any day of the week.

“I don’t know.” Mike shrugged his massive shoulders. “Sounds interesting.”

“Interesting…INTERESTING!” Coop was freaking the fuck out.

As Bob described it, Splitstreaming was a common means of transportation within his Hegemonic Empire of touchy feely crap. The method of transportation involved the disassembly of an organic being to the atomic level, digitizing the data, and then transmitting it across space through encoded quantum entanglement frequencies. At the end of the journey, which could cross the known galaxy in seconds, the person’s biological structure was rebuilt at the arrival point and everything was hunky-dory.

Coop wasn’t brilliant, but he also wasn’t stupid, and this Splitstreaming crap didn’t pass his bullshit-o-meter. “No way! You couldn’t pay me enough to fucking dissect my ass and beam it across the galaxy. Are you kidding me, Mike? You would actually be down for that? Whatever comes out the other side isn’t even you anymore.”

“I’m not saying yes and I’m not saying no,” Mike replied calmly. “I’m just saying I don’t know. Plus, I might not even be eligible.”

To make the whole process even more screwed up, Splitstreaming required certain genetic and psychological components. Not everyone would be able to do it, and it was possible the human race wasn’t compatible with the procedure. There was a chance you’d go crazy or your head might just explode upon arrival. Coop didn’t know if the last one was true, but he’d seen some new stuff today, and it looked like anything was possible.

Coop was hoping humans just couldn’t do it. Not only did he not want to get streamed across the galaxy, but the ability for Blockie troops to arrive in Commonwealth cities at random was messed up. It turned the rules of war on their head, and Coop was more comfortable with the way things were.

“I’m going to my room,” Coop announced. He was tired of talking about how much the world was going to change. Just thinking about it was exhausting.

“Master Sergeant wanted you to go to HQ,” Mike reminded.

“I’ll go to HQ.” Coop waved him off. “But I want a second to myself first.”

<I need to mentally prepare for my ass chewing.> Coop hid the real reason. He wouldn’t be surprised if he lost his team over this. People with a few gold stripes tended to get pissed if you stepped out of place.

It wasn’t a long walk to the barracks, and although it was a little hard to fit through the door in his armor, he managed to squeeze in. He still had plenty of battery life, so he just shuffled out of the LACS in his room, and went to take a nervous shit and wash his face. The cold water felt good right about now.

“COOPER!” SSG Hightower stuck his head in the bathroom just as Coop was finishing up pinching off the load. “Go down and see the Lieutenant, NOW!”

“Yes, Staff Sergeant. Right away, Staff Sergeant.” Coop was full of false motivation as he flushed and went to wash his hands. The SSG stood at the door with his arms crossed and waiting. “I’ve got to maintain hygiene standards, Staff Sergeant.” Coop took his time washing his hands and whistling the Commonwealth anthem.

“Stop being a smartass and let’s go.” The SSG smacked him in the back of the head as he passed. “Suit up and meet me down there or else…”

The SSG didn’t get time to say what he’d do if Coop dragged his feet. For the second time in twenty-four hours the wailing sound of the base alarm rolled over the city of Town Center.

“All military personnel, report to your assigned staging areas. All civilian personnel, please report to the nearest shelter. The Planetary Defense center is now at Defense Condition One. This is not a drill.”

“What the fuck now?!” Coop looked up at the ceiling with exasperation.

“Let’s move, Cooper!” The SSG was already sprinting down the hallway.

<Just one second.> Coop shimmied into his armor and buttoned it up tight. Once it was on, he reached over and effortlessly lifted up the bed. He extended one of his forearm blades and slowly carved away the bottom of one of his bed’s leg posts. Inside a hollowed part of the post sat a money chip and half a dozen empty ones.

The room could still be inspected whenever the LT wanted, so Coop had to be a little ingenious with the hiding place for all his hard-earned cash. He sprayed a nano-solvent on the bottom every time he removed or replaced anything, and scanners manned by bored soldiers on CQ wouldn’t pick up anything.

The last time the alarm went off, Coop had been at the air field and quickly shipped up to the assault carrier. If things had gone to hell, he wouldn’t have seen that cash ever again. He wasn’t going to make that mistake twice. Fate gave him a second chance, and he wasn’t going to squander it. He grabbed the full money chip, sprayed the solvent, and dropped the bed. There was a slight rattle from the empty space due to the retrieved chip, but he could fix that later. Right now, everyone had bigger things to worry about.

Coop put the chip in one of his armor’s compartments and raced after the SSG. If he died today, at least he had tens of thousands of dollars close to his heart. He thought that was poetic.

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