The Lost Starship

-3-

Captain Maddox mingled among those standing against the back walls of the spacious chamber. He positioned himself in such a way that Admiral Fletcher or one of his people couldn’t spy him.

The massive conference table seated over fifty admirals, commodores, commanders and marine generals. Behind them was twice that number in aides. Everyone here belonged to the Star Watch except for three envoys in the center area.

One of the representatives wore a long robe and a scarlet headscarf, a sheik-superior from the Wahhabi Caliphate, a Muslim star empire. The second envoy, with a great handlebar mustache, represented the Windsor League, a combination of British, Canadian, Australian and Indian colony worlds. The last was a Spacer, a small woman with dark features and short hair. She symbolized the confederation of traders and industrialists with no fixed abode other than their starships.

There were other human worlds without a representative here, but they were in the minority. The men and women seated at the great table had at their disposal—if one counted the envoys—three-quarters of the military strength in what people commonly referred to as the Oikumene or Human Space. Over two centuries since the discovery of the Laumer Drive, mankind had colonized many star systems with an Earth normal or terraformed planet. The number grew if one counted every star system with a mining colony or scientific research center.

The majority of those worlds belonged to the Commonwealth of Planets. Before the advent of the New Men, there had been interplanetary wars, revolutions, coups, rebellions, insurrections, all the old ills of the Pre-Interstellar Age. Before the creation of the Commonwealth of Planets fifty years ago, the nations on Terra had fought each other, often using colony world strength. After a space bombardment with hell-burners smashing Greenland out of existence, the surviving nations started a process that led to the stabilizing Commonwealth, a union of sovereign star systems. A few years later, to give the Commonwealth teeth, they created the Star Watch to patrol the space lanes and protect the frontier worlds.

In all that time, no one had encountered aliens, although explorers had discovered several non-human artifacts. According to the best guesses, the alien societies had guttered out when humanity first mixed tin with copper to produce bronze.

The Oikumene was civilized space. Once one traveled farther, he entered the Beyond. Many voyagers had done just that: explorers, locators, Laumer technicians, bounty hunters in search of lost men or treasures and those wanting to begin again. There were known colonies in the Beyond and those hidden from sight. Fanatics of all stripes had left civilization, traveling in every direction. What grew to fruition on those hidden worlds? A few worriers fretted about it. Most people shrugged.

As a great philosopher had said, “People are most concerned about the pebble in their shoe.” They fretted about their mundane worries instead of troubling themselves on cosmic matters.

In such a manner, events had matured as the Oikumene or Civilized Human Space slowly expanded. Now, the New Men had appeared from the Beyond. Two still shots showed they looked human enough, if a little taller and thinner than the norm, with golden skin. No one who had encountered one of their warships had survived.

Already, Odin, Horace and Parthia had fallen before the New Men. Each was an independent star system. No one had heard a word from those planets since. The Commonwealth had sent envoys. They had yet to return. Maddox knew that several months ago the Star Watch had sent various battle groups to strategic systems, guarding the direct path from those conquered regions into Commonwealth territory.

It was one thing to smash an independent system’s handful of ships. It was another to face the might of the Star Watch.

As an Intelligence officer, Captain Maddox was privy to more knowledge than the average person about the New Men. The golden-skinned invaders had uttered only three words to the Odin fleet before its destruction and to the planet Parthia before its conquest. Presumably, the New Men had said the same thing to the others, too, but no one else had managed to get out a recording of those encounters.

Those three words were, “Surrender or die.”

Had the invaders slain everyone on Odin, Horace and Parthia? That seemed inconceivably barbaric. No one had practiced such planetary genocide before. Yet, what did anyone know about the New Men? Almost nothing. Were they Homo Sapiens or did they simply look humanoid enough to fool everyone? No one had interviewed one of the invaders regarding their philosophy or religion.

“Surrender or die.” No linguist had been able to detect an accent in those words to give a clue as to possible origins. What spaceship of colonists could have produced the New Men one hundred and fifty years ago, say, after disappearing into the Beyond? How large of an empire or star union did they possess in the Beyond? Or, were the New Men like the ancient Huns, perhaps, who moved en masse as nomads from one place to another? What technology made their starships so effective?

A few strategists had speculated advanced aliens as being behind the New Men. The theory was simple. Aliens had bred these New Men as assault troops for a larger invasion into Human Space. It was as good an idea as the rest, given the number of facts was the same as any other concept: zero.

There were many questions about the golden-skinned invaders, but no concrete answers.

The coinage of the phrase New Men had come from an Odin newscast showing the only known footage, which had been several seconds long. A tall golden-skinned man with dark hair wearing a silver bodysuit had bounded with incredible speed at elite space marines in the spaceport of Garm. The defending squad occupied a building. They wore exo-powered armor and fired shock rifles.

Due to the brevity of the footage, it had been difficult to get an accurate idea of the battle. Seen in extreme slow motion, two shock rounds passed the invader. Some experts believed the silver suit had interfered with the targeting computers in the rifles and the homing devices in the ammunition. While the Odin military had been small, they had used the latest export technology.

For a fraction of a second, one could see the New Man’s face. It had not been screwed up with controlled fear or even rage. Instead, he looked calm.

The brief recording also showed his weapon. Pistol-sized, it shot an energy blot. In a fast jerk, the recording had switched directions. The energy hit caused blue web-lines to short-circuit heavy armor and fry the Odin marine inside.

Then the footage ended. No one knew if the surviving marines had won that round or if the lone New Man had slain them.

Afterward, the Odin newswoman’s voice had trembled as she spoke about the New Man, an innovative breed of human who had invaded civilization from the Beyond. Her observation had stuck.

“Surrender or die.” No one knew what had happened to the defeated populations. That by itself had given rise to the worst fears. Surely, though, New Men would practice advanced forms of mercy toward the defeated. Or, would they believe themselves so superior to old-style humans that the losers needed extermination?

Whatever the case, until someone thought up a better name or the invaders gave humanity one of their own, they were the New Men, and their initial assault had sent a shockwave through every government in Human Space.

In the large conference chamber, Captain Maddox looked up as the whispering died away.

Lord High Admiral Cook in his white uniform and rows of medals walked in. A young lieutenant trailed him. Cook was large and red-faced. The woman behind him was beautiful, with brunette hair. She had athletic grace but appeared tired and nervous.

The Lord High Admiral came to the front of the conference table, placing his thick fingertips on the glossy top. He scanned the assembled throng, and he didn’t seem to be in any hurry to sit down. The lieutenant standing to his left and a little behind wore her officer’s cap. Cook didn’t. He had a thick wave of white hair and a seamed face.

“We face a grave challenge,” Lord High Admiral Cook said in his deep voice. “Because of its intensity, I will come straight to the point. As many of you know, we have moved seven battle groups into these various star systems.”

He pointed at the center of the table. A holoimage snapped on. It showed the battle groups in red, guarding the strategic routes from Odin, Horace and Parthia into Commonwealth space.

“What most of you don’t know,” the Lord High Admiral continued, “is that we sent another battle group into the Beyond. It was a fast-moving, hard-hitting group under Admiral von Gunther. The plan was to slip in through the back door, as it were, entering the Odin System from the Beyond. Von Gunther had orders to face down the invaders or destroy them if they proved hostile. He was also instructed to see what these New Men had done to the population and learn the fate of our envoys.”

Cook breathed heavily. Then he indicated the woman to his left. “I have been speaking with Lieutenant Noonan. She commanded a Galen-class escort. I would like to tell you she returned in it to us.” The Lord High Admiral shook his head. “Her lifeboat was the only craft to survive von Gunther’s encounter with the New Men.”

People gasped, glancing at one another. An entire battle group destroyed? It was difficult to envision. The New Men must have moved an armada to the Odin System. Did they plan a massed invasion against the Commonwealth then?

Like everyone else, Captain Maddox reexamined the pretty woman. She took a step back, as if the combined stares physically shoved her. Then, a subtle change came over her, a hardening of her features. She stood straighter. It was difficult to interpret the emotions behind her stoic mask.

“We sent a powerful force to investigate the Odin System,” the Lord High Admiral said. “It was composed of fourteen capital ships, four of them Bismarck-class battleships, two motherships and the rest varying types of cruisers. It also included accompanying destroyers, missile boats and escort vessels, along with ancillary repair ships and three troop transports.”

The Lord High Admiral cleared his throat. “We called it a battle group for security purposes. But, as you can see, it had twice the usual numbers.”

Cook’s features stiffened as he raised an arm to indicate Lieutenant Noonan.

“I want you to hear her story.” The Lord High Admiral turned to the woman, and he seemed to become fatherly. “Lieutenant Noonan, if you would please relate your first meeting with the enemy, the battle and your eventual escape, I would appreciate it.”

Maddox arched his neck to get a better look at her face. Her eyes seemed haunted.

Lord High Admiral Cook stepped aside.

She moved into his vacated spot, holding her arms rigidly at her sides like a cadet in training. Maddox noticed that she clenched her hands into fists. This must be difficult for her.

Noonan inhaled. Then, she began to speak fast.

“Admiral von Gunther took us into the Pan System,” she said. “We had jumped from Aphrodite Five. As most of you must realize, we had to go deep into the Beyond to get to Aphrodite Five.”

Faster than light travel involved the Laumer Drive, with Laumer-Points and tramlines. Many stars possessed these wormholes that connected systems. Delicate ship instruments found the precise entrance location. The drive then allowed a ship to jump almost instantaneously between the two points, moving many light years along the tramline in the blink of an eye. Coming out of a Laumer-Point always strained the passengers. People varied on the effects. Some felt shaky as if with the flu and recovered in minutes. Some vomited and trembled uncontrollably, taking several hours to recuperate. A few always died, usually from heart failure. As important, every known computer system—electrical, bio or phase—shut down after a jump and took precious time to reboot. It meant the warships coming out of a Laumer-Point were vulnerable to a swift enemy attack—if the enemy vessels were close enough.

Crossing a star system to reach the next Laumer-Point often took weeks of travel. It meant that some jump routes were strategically more important than others.

“From the Pan System,” Noonan said, “the battle group meant to go to the Larson and then into the Odin System to confront the New Men.”

She shook her head.

“We had moved fast, trying to leave as little evidence as possible of our passage. The admiral had decided to go to combat conditions once we attempted the jump from the Pan to the Larson System. That meant we hadn’t launched any nukes into the Pan System preceding our arrival from Aphrodite Five.”

Maddox ingested the information. Because starships and their crews were exceptionally vulnerable until they recovered from Jump Lag, standard combat procedure called for thermonuclear-armed drones to jump first. Simple timers ignited them on the other side. Thermonuclear blasts would clear any nearby enemy ships waiting to ambush them. The small lieutenant was saying the battle group had failed to take that standard conflict procedure.

“As it turned out,” Noonan said, “the New Men were waiting for us. They struck soon after we appeared. Our sensors were still down. Everything was, except for our shields. We had barely made it out of jump.

“I’d heard rumors that Admiral von Gunther had a picked crew of fast-recovering personnel. By what happened next, I believe it. He must have realized our peril sooner than anyone else did. Before his laser batteries could charge, he drove the Scharnhorst straight at the enemy. He must have known his vessel didn’t have a chance. Two of our heavy cruisers were already drifting hulks.”

Noonan frowned. “I don’t know what type of energy the New Men hit von Gunther with, but their beams burned through armor faster than I would have believed possible.”

“What about his shields?” Admiral Fletcher asked. He was a big man with a permanent scowl.

Noonan shook her head. “The enemy beams appeared to have cut right through von Gunther’s shields.”

The shock of the information broke the spell. Officers began whispering to each other.

“Attention!” Lord High Admiral Cook said in a commanding voice.

The room quickly grew quiet again.

Cook bowed his head to Noonan for her to continue.

She moistened her lips. “I don’t know how it all happened. We couldn’t record yet. I recall raising my head. The viewer had just come back online. I saw the Scharnhorst making its death ride. Von Gunther took his ship straight down their throats. The enemy beams scored direct hits on his armor. I saw it with my own eyes. The armor plates blackened as the beams bored into them. I remember scooting forward on my chair, wondering why von Gunther had failed to raise his shields. Then I saw the telltale shimmer, and I knew he had raised them. The enemy beams simply ignored the electromagnetic deflectors, hitting the Scharnhorst again and again.

“My people finally began stirring. I’ve always come out of Jump Lag quicker than others could.” Noonan shrugged. “I remember hearing von Gunther on the comm. He ordered us to retreat. He ordered us to race back to Earth and report on the New Men. He tried to say something else. I believe he had learned something important. Before he could finish his thought the Scharnhorst broke apart under the enemy beams.”

Maddox noted the widening eyes, the stir of those around him. Once more, Lieutenant Noonan’s tale had surprised everyone.

Admiral Fletcher spoke up. “How many ships did the New Men have?”

“Three, I believe,” Noonan said.

Instead of whispering, men and women began to talk aloud to each other. Three enemy ships had done this to the Scharnhorst? By the swiftness of the battleship’s destruction, it should have been twenty.

“Silence in the hall!” Lord High Admiral Cook roared. “I will have silence in my hall.”

“I know what you’re wondering,” Noonan said. “How could three vessels do this so quickly to the Scharnhorst? The Bismarck-class battleships have incredibly powerful shields. It would take four equally great craft pouring their lasers against a shield for at least fifteen minutes to begin to make it buckle. Even then, it should last another ten minutes. Afterward, the armor plating could take a hell of a pounding.”

She shook her head. “The enemy didn’t outnumber us. It was the opposite. We had far more vessels than they did. And they didn’t have monster craft, either. If I had to guess, each of their ships had the tonnage of a heavy cruiser. The Scharnhorst was bigger than each of her three tormenters. What’s more, by its ramming attack, the Scharnhorst had forced the New Men to concentrate on her. I think von Gunther would have smashed one of their vessels if he could have reached them.

“As the admiral’s flagship broke apart, our three surviving battleships began to unlimber their heavy lasers. The strike cruisers launched drones. Many of the destroyers together with the missile boats began flanking maneuvers. The New Men had hurt us, but we still had far more ships than they did. What’s more, von Gunther’s charge had given us time to recover from Jump Lag so that operating systems began coming online enough to begin fighting.

“I wanted to join the assault. The destruction of our ships enraged me. Yet, I had heard the admiral’s last orders. He had almost told us something critical. I believed that then, and I still do. Something crawled down my spine. It wasn’t fear of our destruction. It…”

Her mouth moved silently before she said, “I think I sensed the historic pregnancy of the moment. As the others began firing, I reversed course and began an emergency evacuation for the Laumer-Point. As we entered the jump, I watched the rest of the fleet—”

“You fled the battle,” Fletcher said, sounding surprised and outraged.

“Yes, sir,” Noonan said, flinching. “You can say it like that if you wish. I prefer to say that I followed Admiral von Gunther’s last orders. I did more than simply retreat. I also shouted orders for everyone to evacuate ship.”

Admiral Fletcher struck the table with his fist.

Noonan took a step back as everyone stared at her with disbelief. Maybe it was too much. She lowered her gaze.

“You may find this hard to believe,” she said.

Like the others around him, Maddox leaned toward her, as her voice had grown softer.

Noonan touched her chest. “In my heart, I felt the New Men would annihilate our battle group and come after us. What I had just seen—it terrified me. Their technology was far superior to ours. I felt a duty to return home and report that. It turned out I wasn’t the only one who obeyed Admiral von Gunther. One of the motherships along with a strike cruiser and four destroyers made it through. After they recovered from Jump Lag, the others began to race for the next Laumer-Point. It would take them a week of hard acceleration to reach it. As they began the journey, all hands aboard my escort ejected in the lifeboats. I’d left the ship on automated, setting it to follow the mothership.”

“This is gross cowardice in the face of the enemy,” Admiral Fletcher declared.

“No,” Noonan said, staring straight ahead. “I had a hunch. I believed the New Men would be coming. I took my lifeboat and raced behind a nearby asteroid. We barely made it. I began recording with passive sensors. This is what I discovered. Three enemy vessels of heavy cruiser size came through the jump point. It indicated to me that none of the enemy had sustained any damage from us. I learned something else, too. Their ships began functioning within thirty seconds of appearing in the new system.

“Jump Lag clearly didn’t distress them like it does us. Their sensors locked on the fleeing warships. The enemy beams fired within minutes of their arrival. It wasn’t a laser beam. My instrumentation was clear on that. The fleeing cruiser and destroyers turned around to fight. The mothership launched several squadrons of strikefighters and bombers. And that’s when things became weird.”

Noonan bit her lower lip. “I heard several of our bombers hailing the New Men. Answering pulses returned from the enemy craft.”

“What’s this?” Fletcher asked. “You’re suggesting those bombers were in communication with the New Men?”

“I suggest nothing, Admiral,” Noonan said. “I’m just reporting what I saw. I watched a squadron of bombers detach from the wave of strikefighters heading at the enemy vessels. That squadron moved away even as Commodore Franks on Mothership Constellation gave them orders to attack. I’m not sure, but I think Franks trained his lasers on the errant bombers.”

“What do you mean, think?” Fletcher asked, his features contorted with rage.

“Constellation gained sensor lock on the wayward bombers,” Noonan said. “Then, I heard Franks accuse Commander Miles of treachery. Before the mothership’s lasers could fire, the New Men destroyed the giant carrier under a combined barrage. Afterward, they demolished the attacking strikefighters. Within forty minutes of their arrival in the system, the New Men had annihilated the remaining ships of our battle group.”

Noonan looked up, scanning those gathered in the chamber. “Three enemy vessels demolished a greater number of our ships without suffering any harm in turn. They annihilated us with an ease I wouldn’t have believed unless I was part of it.”

“Wait, wait,” Fletcher said. “You must back up. What happened to the other lifeboats and to Commander Miles’ bombers?”

Noonan cocked her head and stared into the distance. “The New Men beamed every lifeboat but mine. The last bombers… they approached the enemy vessels and landed in a docking bay. Afterward, the three ships left, heading back to the Pan System.”

“Did the New Men order the bombers to land?” Fletcher asked.

“If they did, I didn’t hear it,” Noonan said. “In my opinion, Commander Miles went willingly.”

Lord High Admiral Cook stepped near as he indicated an empty chair.

Noonan stared at him for a moment before sitting down in it.

The Lord High Admiral glowered at the others. “All right, then. You’ve heard what I’ve heard. There are several troubling elements to the story. I’m sure each of you has reached the same conclusion I have, but I will enumerate the problems. Compared to us, the invaders have seriously advanced weaponry. It allowed three of their ships to destroy masses of ours: a fleet composed of fourteen capital ships. I am inclined to pull our other groups back. I fear trying to beat the enemy in a battle of maneuver. The New Men are far better than us at recovering from Jump Lag in every way. Yet, the worst problem is this: we clearly have spies in our midst, traitors helping the New Men. How else did the enemy know to guard the Pan-Aphrodite route? It would appear that Commander Miles on Mothership Constellation communicated with them in some fashion. That the New Men were able to corrupt Star Watch combat officers would seem to mean they have an active secret service among us. It would also appear that they have full knowledge about Earth. In return, except for the color of their skin, we know nothing about them.”

Lord High Admiral Cook rapped his knuckles against the table. “This is a dire situation, people. Before we move against them again, we will have to come up with a plan on how to defeat vastly superior ships. What’s more, we must figure out a way to keep them from learning our secrets.”

Silence filled the chamber as his words sank in.

Finally, Admiral Fletcher stirred. “Sir,” he said.

“Go head, Admiral.”

“What if the New Men don’t wait for us to move, but they invade Commonwealth territory first?”

“Exactly,” Cook said. He looked from right to left, taking his time doing it as he stared at each person in turn. Finally, he said, “I’m open to suggestions, people. Because if the New Men invade us, I don’t know what we can do to stop them.”