Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3) (21 page)

“Me, as well,” Rodriguez returned. “Like Rail said, they’re fighting too hard. Why risk destroying their emissary to humanity?”

“The only alien vessels to actually attack the
Talon
so far have been the fighters, when we first entered Prius 3. The other ships concentrated fire on the two corvettes in Avalon Rappel.”

“But that’s because the
Talon
pretended to be a derelict ship,” Rail said. “And you’re forgetting, one of their ships did fire at the
Talon
, at long range anyway, partially damaging the nose of your ship. And another nearly fired again, but because it was damaged, its particle beam recharge interval was four minutes instead of two.”

“Which may have been a ruse as well,” Jonathan said. “An excuse for them to spare us. But you’re right, we have no concrete proof. I guess we’ll just have to see how hard the enemy fight the
Talon
in the upcoming battle.”

“If it was a ruse,” Rodriguez said. “And there are no factions, and they trick us into giving them a planet killer...”

“Then there is a good possibility they’ll be using it against us,” Jonathan finished.

J
onathan turned toward Barrick and unmuted the line. “Tell Valor to hold this position until I discuss what to do next with the corvettes.”

“As you wish.” Barrick seemed hesitant. “There is one more, small thing I should mention.”

“What?” Jonathan asked warily.

“Otter tells me the hull composition of six of the ships, including the laser ship, matches an iron ore found on a certain large asteroid in Prius 3,” Barrick said.

Jonathan looked at the man dubiously. “What are you saying, they built those six ships in Prius 3?” If those vessels were manufactured in Prius 3, that meant Jonathan had been wrong about reinforcements awaiting in Vega 951 when the Raakarr returned from the Elder galaxy.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Barrick replied.

“How is that possible?” Jonathan said.

“In the Elder galaxy you already encountered other ships the Raakarr had built there, during their tenure in that galaxy itself,” Barrick told him.

That was true. At the time, Jonathan and his crew had theorized the Raakarr had more advanced 3D printers than they did, and could print the components necessary for reactors and power systems from a few basic raw materials.

“But they only entered Prius 3 a few days ago,” Jonathan said. “How did they build them so fast?”

Barrick paused. “Otter tells me it takes six months to build six ships, given one shipyard. So that means they would’ve had to have done it in secret over the past six months.”

“But none of their ships passed through the Slipstream into Prius 3 while we were in Vega 951 six months ago,” Jonathan said. “They merely guarded the wormhole. When did they have time to build a shipyard in that system?”

“There is such a thing as a ‘shipyard’ probe class in Raakarr inventories,” Barrick explained. “They could have launched one of these probes through the wormhole at any point while they were in orbit. It is a fully automated device which, once landed, would develop into a shipyard with the ability to create approximately one unmanned Raakarr vessel a month, depending on the ship class.”

“When you say shipyard, I imagine giant mechanical arms and lifting arrays,” Jonathan said. “How could they get something like that from a small probe?”

“It’s nothing like your usual shipyard,” Barrick said. “Otter tells me self-replicating microbots are involved. They use a form of etching to create the components. Because they’re self-replicating, in theory the machines can create more vessels as time goes on, though my understanding is that what usually happens when the shipyard deploys is that a base number of microbots are created, and once critical mass is achieved, only a small number of the bots are tasked with ship production, while the remainder are devoted to creating more microbots. Apparently thousands of them cease to function every minute, so new bots are mostly replacement units. The process is similar to how human cells are replaced, and can be modeled via cellular automata, though on a reduced scale.”

Jonathan didn’t know what to say. He was a little surprised that the aliens had revealed so much. Assuming it was the truth, and that the telepath hadn’t changed or invented any of it.

“Apparently the laser and capital ships take the longest to build,” Barrick continued. “But their production time can be shortened if they leave out lens segments of the laser, or cut back on the number of fighters in the capital ship.”

Jonathan still wasn’t sure he bought it all. “You say they built the ships in secret over the past six months. But the human comm nodes at the entrance to the Prius 3 Slipstream would have immediately transmitted the appearance of the alien probe to the military base on Prius 3A. And even if that probe somehow evaded detection long enough to reach the asteroid, the thermal signature made by all that construction would have revealed them.”

“Would it?” Barrick said. “Check the data on your aReal. The asteroid in question, most likely Hercules 951-A according to my local AI, rotates extremely slowly on its axis. That means the Raakarr could have easily set up a base on the far side and operated it unnoticed for the past six months.”

“Then how did the original probe escape detection?” Jonathan asked.

“Six months ago, according to my aReal, Prius 3A was on the far side of the third sun, which eclipsed the Slipstream from view of the military base and any telemetry drones in orbit. If the United Systems ships were not on patrol, it would have been relatively easy for the probe to enter, disable the nearby comm nodes with electromagnetic pulses, and then deploy behind the asteroid, which would have been close to Prius-2 at the time.”

On his aReal, Jonathan accessed the stellar positions of the Prius 3 celestial bodies and rewinded their locations to six months ago. Everything Barrick said was correct. It didn’t help that the former base was on the dark side of Prius 3A, facing away from the third sun
and
the Slipstream.

He realized something. “What about other United Systems telemetry drones? Not all of them would have been in orbit above Prius 3A. For example, the comm nodes near the Gate to Anvil Rappel.
Some
of our drones would have witnessed the original entry.”

“Perhaps,” Barrick said. “But consider: the visual and thermal signatures of the alien probe wouldn’t have been visible until too late. If it fired a stream of relativistic electrons at any United Systems telemetry drones it detected, the resultant EMP pulses would travel at nearly the same speed as the thermal information, disabling the drones shortly after detection, and rendering any scant data received as inconclusive.”

Finally Jonathan sighed, accepting that what Barrick said was entirely within the realm of possibility.

“So they snuck in right under our noses,” Jonathan remarked. “One question, why didn’t Valor tell me any of this when we were in Prius 3? If a shipyard existed in the system, we should have stopped to destroy it.”

“I don’t think he knew. His rank, as you previously surmised, probably wasn’t all that high aboard the Raakarr vessel.”

Jonathan pressed his lips together. “The
Talon’s
AI would have told him I’m sure.”

“If he bothered to ask, perhaps,” Barrick agreed.

“Fine,” Jonathan answered. “Another question: how many of these ‘shipyard’ probes do their ships have? Is it something that comes standard with every Raakarr vessel?” He wasn’t sure Otter or whoever Barrick was talking to would tell him, but he figured he would ask.

“They usually come with one each,” Barrick answered a moment later. “Though in a rush construction situation like what would have happened here, the microbots are programmed to omit any shipyard probes, along with other unessentials like lifepods. So the new ships likely don’t have any.”

“But those vessels that were part of the original reinforcements, like the pyramid ship, do have them,” Jonathan said. “So it’s entirely possible there’s another shipyard hidden somewhere in this system, or  Prius 3.”

“Possible, yes,” Barrick replied. “Probable, even. The United Systems would be wise to perform a clean sweep of the system when it comes time to retake Anvil Rappel.”

Jonathan considered performing such a sweep right then, but the time necessary to send probes to all the planets, or even to personally fly out to them, would be better spent returning home.

Too bad there were seven enemy ships waiting in the next system, blocking the way. He would have to assume for the moment that they were actually Elk, and not merely Zarafe pretending to be so. He would also have to assume that they would fire on the
Talon
if they recognized the vessel.

We could try to run past them, or...

As he stared at the positions of those ships on his aReal, an inkling of a plan began to form.

Jonathan thrummed his gloved fingers on his upper leg assembly.

“These six new ships, they’re manned by AIs?” he asked.

“They would have been, until the pyramid ship and its escorts arrived to activate them,” Barrick said. “Otter says skeleton crews were probably installed.”

It didn’t matter either way, he supposed.

“Tell me something else,” Jonathan continued. “At what range will the enemy Raakarr be able to tell we’re not with them?”

“What do you mean?”

“How are they determining we’re the defecting
Talon?
” Jonathan clarified. “By visuals alone?”

“There are other identifiers,” Barrick explained. “Something similar to the serial numbers that United Systems vessels use, transmitted with every communication.”

“Have Valor change them,” Jonathan said.

“He already did.”

“Change them again,” Jonathan insisted. “I want something we haven’t used before. Something the Raakarr comm drones we encountered in Prius 3 couldn’t have sent on.”

“It will be done,” Barrick said. “But like you said, there are other identifiers, mostly visual, and once we close to a certain range they will know we are the
Talon
.”

“Hence my original question,” Jonathan said, feeling a rising sense of frustration. “What is that range?”

“Firing range, basically,” Barrick said.

Jonathan nodded. That would work for what he had in mind.

He wanted to discuss his plan with Captains Rail and Rodriguez, but he felt a sudden overwhelming sense of doubt and turned once more to the telepath.

“You told me you could see the future,” Jonathan said. “Or its possible paths, anyway. I know you don’t want to reveal any specifics, but at least give me a hint. If we fight the Raakarr on the other side of this wormhole, will we win?”

“That would count as a specific.” Barrick frowned behind the faceplate. “But even so, I don’t actually know. I’ve never seen this particular branching of events.” He sounded slightly afraid. “Not knowing is an odd sensation... I feel disoriented, adrift... like a child wandering in the forest at night, lost in the dark. I haven’t experienced the unknown like this in what seems a long time. It’s a feeling that’s both exhilarating and... disconcerting.”

“Welcome back to the human race,” Jonathan said. “Where the future is an open road, an unknown quality that is what we make of it.”

“We can’t always make our own futures, Captain,” Barrick said. “Sometimes we are hemmed in to the path that destiny has set for us.”

“But you said it yourself,” Jonathan said. “You’ve never seen this particular branching of events. That tells me we’re making the future as we speak.”

Barrick took a moment, as if selecting the words of his answer with painstaking care. “While that may be true, there are certain key waypoints that transpire between events. And while the events themselves may change, such as the winners or losers of the upcoming battle, their outcomes are sometimes relatively unimportant in the cosmic scheme of things. The waypoints, however, those rarely seem to change. We are between two such waypoints at the moment. I have an inkling of what will happen going forward, and it will probably happen regardless of whether we win or lose the coming battle. Even if you or I meet our demise here, that waypoint will probably happen.”

“And is it a good waypoint?” Jonathan said. “Or a bad one?”

Barrick stared at Jonathan for several seconds, then lowered his gaze. “As I told you, it is best I don’t reveal any specifics.”

“But my question is hardly specific,” Jonathan said. “In fact, it’s one of the vaguest I’ve ever asked. Good or bad. All I’m asking for is whether I should bother to hope.”

“That is precisely why I will not tell you,” Barrick replied. “That way you may find hope regardless of whether it’s good or bad.”

“You’re right, I suppose,” Jonathan said. “Because no matter what the future holds, we’ll do our best to deal with whatever comes our way. That’s all we
can
do.”

Barrick smiled, though it didn’t touch his eyes behind the faceplate. “And so it is.”