“Go ahead, Argent control.”
“Cavalier Five Heavy investigate new contact Kilowatt X-Ray Nine bearing one zero seven mark ten at zero point six m-clicks. Your signal is buster.”
“Acknowledged. Argent control. Cavalier Five heavy vectoring one zero six.”
Three Wildcat fighters from the vaunted 16th and the ominous blocky outline of Tarantula Hawk Gunship Black Four turned in formation to set course on their new heading. The unusual hybrid formations of fighters with gunship escorts had been recently recommended by the senior officers in the battleship Argent’s star wing and enthusiastically endorsed by her captain, Jason Hunter.
The loss of Task Force 92 at Prairie Grove and the subsequent near-inevitability of full-scale war in and around the closest star systems placed urgent responsibilities on ships of the line. Fortunately, Argent didn’t follow the conventional path from her previous mission directly to the largest concentration of ships. It wasn’t the Hunter way. Instead, the battleship and her star wing had diverted to Prairie Grove in an attempt to locate and engage the Sarn battle group that had massacred four Skywatch ships and crews with neither warning nor provocation.
Hunter’s ultimate destination was to link up with Alert Force 29 and to help determine the reason Commander Drake’s reinforcements didn’t arrive when they were supposed to.
Along with Lieutenant Calloway, Cavalier Five’s other two pilots were among the more experienced combat space patrol drivers in the squadron known as the Devil Cats. Lieutenant JG Abee, the command pilot in charge of the five-man crew of Gunship Four, was more acclimated to surface combat. Nevertheless, he had seen a fair amount of action and was one of the specialist officers who had helped prove once and for all the T-Hawk was not a gimmick. The strike battleships were the only ships of the line carrying Tarantula Hawk squadrons. Certain ship designers, weapons specialists and flight officers alike were eager to show what they could do, and all three factions had found a friend in none other than Captain Hunter. Jason was one of the only command-grade field officers who had taken a keen interest in T-Hawk technology, and he was well aware of the advantages his fighters acquired by having one or more of the menacing-looking ships backing them up, surface or not.
At the moment, however, the presence of gunship Black Four, also known as “Hellsquare,” wasn’t helping the rest of the formation with the unusual readings they were getting from their long-range scanners.
“There’s way too much interference coming out of this system, Chuck,” said Lieutenant JG Will Sykes. “They’ve got to have some kind of Nemesis or something out here to put out this level of power.”
“If they’ve got fighters patrolling system’s edge, they’re going to be flashing ECM traffic,” Calloway replied. “What have you got, Max? Any chance that fat hull can punch through all this reflection noise?”
“We’re not seeing anything unusual, El Tee,” Abee replied. “I agree with Will, though. All the data we managed to retrieve from the surviving repeaters at Prairie Grove put the enemy formation at at least one heavy, probably a carrier of some kind. Lord only knows what she’s got for escorts, but even the Sarn are bright enough to field dedicated signals units.”
Lieutenant Calloway studied his instruments closely. His formation’s progress looked agonizingly slow projected against even a focused view of the edge of the El Rey system. Although all of Argent’s patrol fighters and gunships had by now been outfitted with modified Sullivan drive fields and could cruise at relative speeds of more than 20,000 miles a second, it still meant trips from the outer edge of a star system to its most distant planets took anywhere from ten to fifteen hours, which was much longer than combat pilots could remain at peak readiness. Argent’s chief engineer had given her fighter crews a considerable advantage, but out here near the El Rey Oort cloud, space was still a really big place.
The good news was that El Rey was still a Core system, for all intents and purposes, and that meant it was under continuous surveillance from perimeter repeaters. Unit seven was not in its designated navigation zone, but unit two was. It gave the patrol formation the scanner equivalent of a set of binoculars, at least as far as position eight. It wasn’t picking up anything unusual either, but it was also reporting an unusually high level of harmonic interference.
“What could be making all this radio noise at system’s edge?” Calloway wondered aloud. “ECM doesn’t create harmonic interference. It doesn’t need to.”
“If I didn’t know better, I’d say the repeater is picking up some kind of energy source. Like debris radiation or something,” Sykes replied.
“Agreed. That’s what the battle computers think, but there’s nothing there. If you’re picking up something radioactive, fine. But there has to be a thing to be radioactive. You need matter. Mass. Something.”
While the flight leader and Lieutenant Sykes discussed the unusual readings, the transmission engineer aboard the gunship was busy reviewing the reported movements of the starship Concordant. The vessel’s navigational computer projected a completely routine parabolic course through the orbit of El Rey Five. Several repeaters had picked up the cruiser exactly where she was supposed to be. Until Repeater Two, when for some reason Concordant never arrived at her detection waypoint.
Every Skywatch vessel maintained communications with repeater networks when on course inside a star system. The tracking and data records policies had grown from old Earth aircraft and RADAR. After numerous instances of missing aircraft, engineers had built all manner of electronic and computerized systems to keep track of where an aircraft was and also whether it was following its filed flight plan. If there was a deviation, the system was supposed to take notice and direct additional resources to determining the exact nature of the problem, and to track as closely as possible where the aircraft was moment by moment. The results were encouraging, and the program was continued when man ventured into space.
Repeaters were equipped with immense data storage systems and were also outfitted with the most sensitive short and long-range tracking equipment available. Whenever they detected any vessel or object capable of a course correction, they back-plotted the initial point at which the vessel became visible to its own instruments and designated that point as the “DWAY” or “Detection WAYpoint.” From that point, the repeater plotted new waypoints in real time at regular clock intervals or at any point where the vessel either altered its course or speed. The information gathered by the devices was crucial in conducting rescue operations for friendly vessels and zeroing in on potential intruders before they reached their targets.
But in this instance, Repeater Three lost SRS contact with the starship Concordant at its “LOSWAY” or “Loss of Signal WAYpoint.” Had the vessel maintained its expected course, it should have been picked up by Repeater Two roughly four minutes later at a projected DWAY on a high bypass course through the orbital wake of El Rey Five.
That DWAY never registered.
“And there were no transmissions? No debris? No kinetics or motion sensor readings?”
“That is correct, lieutenant. Neither of the repeaters detected anything unusual, except that Repeater Two logged the anomalous lack of a detection waypoint for the Concordant at her expected position.”
“This doesn’t make any sense. What are you telling me, Max? A Skywatch cruiser and a crew of 245 men and women just vanished into space?”
“Based on these readings, sir, that’s exactly what I’m telling you.”
“No weapons fire? No heat signatures? No drifting missiles with spent fuel?”
“Negative.”
“That’s worse than an enemy carrier. The flotilla at ER3 didn’t pick anything up. No contact. No log buoy. And no enemy activity to speak of either. If you’re going to make reinforcements disappear, why not act on the advantage?”
“Could be as good a question as to what happened to the Concordant,” Abee replied.
The Cavalier Five formation continued its least-time course to the edge of Repeater Two’s command zone.
“Alright, let’s come at this from the other direction,” Calloway said. “Do we have residuals on Concordant’s original course?”
“Excellent question,” Abee replied. His SRS technician was already hard at work using the gunship’s relatively sophisticated sensors to backplot the cruiser’s expected position based on the its projected course as reported by the operational repeaters within range of the combat space patrol formation. Black Four didn’t really need high-tech instruments for this kind of analysis. Knowing where to look involved more math than theory. The navigational computer came up with the answer in a matter of moments.
“Affirmative residuals, sir,” Abee reported. “The Concordant was on course with no unusual emissions until approximately half a million miles from the projected DWAY at the edge of Repeater Two’s range.”
Calloway rolled his eyes. “Alright, I’m out of ideas.” He activated the fleet command net. “Cavalier Five flight lead to Argent. Come in.”
Strike Battleship Argent BBV 740 El Rey Frontier CPT Jason Hunter Commanding
Captain Jason Hunter stepped on to Argent’s war deck still drying his hair. He was wearing workout clothes and neither of his athletic shoes were tied. They somehow managed to stay on his feet, however.
“What have you got, XO?”
“A mystery of sorts, sir,” Commander Cochrane O’Malley replied. “It seems the Conquistador and Flotilla 29 requested reinforcements in the El Rey system. When the cruiser Concordant was dispatched from Manassas Station to fortify their position, she vanished. Patrol Cavalier Five has provided us with some perplexing readings from the repeater network.”
“A missing cruiser?” Jason tossed the towel on the reactive table display and activated his commlink. “Hunter to Tixia. Commander, would you please report to the war deck?”
“On my way.”
“What else do we have out there?”
“Patrol Four isn’t very far from Five’s position. We’re not getting any readings from the direction of Dante’s Twins. Nothing unusual to report.”
Hunter studied the enormous tactical display of the El Rey system. The five planets were all displayed. A Skywatch formation avatar was located next to ER3 to represent the Conquistador and her group. An Argent patrol avatar pinpointed Calloway’s heavy fighter patrol near system’s edge.
“Well, commander, we know they’re after El Rey at some point. The only question is when. Did Chuck’s scanners pick up anything from Concordant?”
“Apparently, she was on course to rendezvous with Conquistador when her residuals just stopped. The acquisition interval passed. Relay Two should have picked her up here.” A new location appeared on the tactical map representing the location where Concordant should have been acquired, but wasn’t.
“Alright,” Jason said, standing close to the display. “Cavalier Five is responding to a report of potential enemy activity somewhere near position eight.” Hunter stabbed the display with a finger. “They can’t get a fix on whatever is causing all the hubbub, and on their way there, they discover the starship Concordant never registered a DWAY with Relay Two.” Jason stabbed the display again. “Call me crazy, commander, but those two events look related to me.”
“I think you’re becoming telepathic, sir,” O’Malley replied.
“What does Commander Drake have out here on this side of the system?”
“Flotilla 29 has been keeping all the chickens in the coop, sir.”
Jason studied the map. “He doesn’t want to exceed the engagement envelope of that ground installation at ER3,” Hunter concluded, hands on hips and examining the tactical display. “Based on recent events, I can’t say I blame him.”
“Reporting as ordered, sir.” Zony handed Jason a new cup of coffee and took her traditional seat at the light table with her own cup. The horizontal surface was displaying the same tactical information as the reactive display.
“This electronic roadshow is driving my flight leader up a wall, commander,” Jason said, taking a sip. “What do you make of the interference wave coming from Repeater Two’s deflection zone here at system’s edge?”
“Harmonics,” Zony said, zeroing in on the confusion in an instant. “Where are they coming from?”
“I’d take a wild guess, but I don’t have to do that because I have the best signals officer in the fleet,” Jason replied.
“This is either a transmitter who doesn’t know what they are doing or faulty equipment.”
“Explain.” Jason took a seat.
“These harmonics are being generated on the same wavelengths the transmitter is trying to jam. The problem is they are picking up their own transmissions. They are jamming their own signals and wasting a huge amount of power in the process.”
“Stick thinks its radiation, but so far they can’t determine a source.”
“If I wanted to, I could create harmonics in their transmissions by jamming them with the right power levels and frequencies in our own. It’s just like the old games we played in the pool when we were using the rafts and surfboards to push waves at each other. When those waves collide in a certain frequency range or when they combine in a certain frequency range, secondary waves are created at alternate frequencies. If there’s enough power involved, those secondary waves can become ‘primary’ waves for another level of transmission.”
“It’s like dropping pebbles in the lake when the ripples combine,” Hunter said.
“Exactly,” Zony replied.
“So they have two transmitters?” O’Malley asked.
“That would be my leading theory, sir,” Zony replied.
“Two sources of electronic jamming...” Jason mused.
“Either way, they are wasting an incredible amount of power overcoming their own noise,” Zony replied.
“Does any of this make it easier to identify the location of the transmitter?”
“With Dominique’s help I can tell you how far apart they are,” Zony replied. “Simple set of calculations. If I had a fixed point in space with enough data over time, I could triangulate a range of possible vectors.”
“But not range?”
“Not unless I know the relative power levels involved. I can estimate based on shipboard systems, since most of them have upper limits relative to the physical resilience of the antennas.”
Hunter stood, rubbing his chin. “Fixed position in space...” A moment later he stabbed the map a third time. “Repeater Two.” He glanced at Zony.
“That just might work, sir!”
“Alright, let’s assume our enemies are either cruiser-class Sarn warships or carriers. Run simulations for all possible combinations, power levels and vectors. If anything jumps out at you, we’ll stick a pin in it, affirmative?”
“Signals is on it, sir.”
“Very good. Commander, you have the war deck.”
“Acknowledged,” O’Malley replied.