January 20th, 2262. 05:00 CNS Des Moines – CNC

The senior leadership, or what was left of it after the attack and the would-be coup attempt, was meeting to discuss the new, and very unwelcome, findings. John was looking at the holographic display. The information wasn’t as accurate as it could be given the passive nature of their scanners. The ironic thing was that they had observed more enemy movements and captured more data after they were crippled than they had in the preceding six months of spying on the enemy.

“Captain, that’s the fourth slip stream wake that we’ve detected in the last two hours,” Eileen said, “And they were incoming. That one was easily the largest.”

John continued to stare at the map. The number of patrols had increased substantially. Thankfully they had largely stayed in orbit around the small world the attack occurred over. But three patrols had ventured to other parts of the solar system.

“If any of the patrols get in visual range of us it’s not going to take long for them to realize we’re alive. And I think we need to assume that we are still being tracked,” John stopped and was deep in thought, “What’s the closest a patrol has gotten to us?”

“Not even remotely close,” Billy said, “We’re well outside of any influence of the planet now.”

Beth then added, “What are they staging here for?”

“Chief, how much longer do y’all need to test and debug our broken ass ship?” John asked.

“If you put a gun to my head we could jump now. But I’d feel more comfortable going in twelve to twenty-four hours.”

“No need for that Chief. But I’d like you to work on procedures to get us out of here at a moment’s notice. What can you tell us about our slip capabilities? How long of a jump can we make and so on?”

“We’re still investigating that,” Deniz said cautiously, “Assuming slip space isn’t overly turbulent, we think two, maybe three jumps will be possible. If it’s rough we’re stuck with a single jump, and that’s if we survive a rough jump.”

“What kind of distance can we go?”

Deniz shook his head, “Not a normal jump. The loss of a generator isn’t that big of a deal, the problem is a lot of our capability to store energy was blown up, and the railgun, which can work as a really strong capacitor, is completely out of action.”

“Send me your estimates, post haste, please. I want to map out the route home.”

“In other news, Guetta is raising hell in his cell,” Lieutenant Moreland said.

“Tell him if he doesn’t behave, he’s going in the sensory deprivation tank for a day,” John all but spat out the words.

“Roger that. Not that this affects me, but how are we going to handle the others that were following him?”

Lieutenant Linton stood up from her seat, “I’ve done deep scans on everyone except Lieutenant Guetta. Four of the twelve do feel deep regret over their actions and feel like they were sold on false promises. The other eight don’t feel they were doing anything wrong and are reluctantly accepting their punishment.”

“Are the four the only ones that have accepted responsibility for their actions?” John asked.

“Yes. Captain, I recommend rehoming them,” Rebecca said, “Their actions fit their words and feelings.”

“Do it, get them back on normal shifts. But I’m not going to be the ultimate judge that decides their fates. That’s beyond my paygrade. I will not recommend any action for those four. For the others, I’m recommending a bad conduct discharge.”

“How did you get them in line?” Deniz looked very curious.

“I shared with them some highly classified information. Information that no one would believe under normal conditions. Then I made it crystal clear to all that I will not tolerate deviation from the mission. The implication was specific and permanent.”

“Right, moving right along,” Eileen said, “Chef is asking if we want to do any more rationing of the food?”

“How much do we have left?” Billy asked.

“Two months and a half months’ worth without any rationing. That’s excluding the hydroponic potatoes we set up a couple of weeks ago in the cargo bay. The first harvest was used to produce more edible ones this go around.”

“We’re still on the safe side of average caloric intake, but I wouldn’t recommend cutting any more than where we’re at now,” Lieutenant Blanchet said.

“I’m going to defer answering that question until we jump. We’re not in any danger now and we still have plenty of space to vertically integrate hydroponics. Any other items on the agenda?”

“We’ve exhausted our options at fixing the communication systems, that rail round properly screwed things up,” Ana said.

“No more EVAs. If push comes to shove, I don’t want to jump into slip space in a hurry if anyone is outside.”

“You’ll have them in by the top of the hour,” Deniz said.

“Good work everyone, meeting’s adjourned.”

The group began to disperse. John leaned back in his chair and took a deep breath. Soon, soon they’d be on the way home. Or the ship would explode. Either way, a fair amount of stress and worry would be no more.

“Hey stumpy, want to play cornhole?” Chase shouted over to Billy.

“I am done with my shift I think?” Billy said with absolutely no confidence.

Eileen shook her head, “You know damn well you have three hours left in your shift.”

“But cornhole. And not working. And my stump hurts,” Billy tried to make a pitiable look by waving his stump around.

Beth leaned over and whispered to John, “I blame you for that horrible nickname.”

John smiled, “Go and relax. I got you covered here.”

Eileen looked at John and shook her head, “You’re just going to sit there and watch the passive scanner, aren’t you?”

“Yup,” John nodded his head.

When the commotion was over only Eileen and John remained in CNC. John, true to his word, was sprawled out in his chair with his legs resting on a terminal as he watched the passive scanner refresh the main display.

“Why are they massing here. This is about a fleet’s worth of ships,” John just spoke his thoughts out loud.

“Your guess is likely better than mine,” Eileen said, “Captain, I know it’s not my business to say anything. But I overheard one of the traitors mentioning ‘salting a world.’ Am I allowed to ask for more details?”

“No, you’re not. It’s information that isn’t going to help you do your work.”

“Understood.”

John began flipping a pen in the air as he watched the view screen. Two more slip wakes were detected, both incoming, though they were much smaller. The ships were a defensive screen around the planet. Where the enemy battleship was.

“Eileen, run our scans of the enemy battleship through the VI. Focus on energy readings, atmospheric readings, and molecular scans. Basically, throw the kitchen sink at the data.”

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“Sure thing. Not like I have anything more pressing to take care of. What are you thinking though?”

“This is a disproportionate response to a salvage operation. Something was…” John let the words hang, “Special or unique about that battleship. Also, I want to see the damage readings for it too.”

The computer began a real-time list of everything that it had observed. Unfortunately, what he saw wasn’t of much help. Several compartments were exposed to the void. Most of the weapon systems were seriously damaged, that much was clear. But something about this vessel just rubbed John the wrong way.

“Holy cow, we threw everything we had and that’s all the damage it took?”

“Still got hammered shitless though. We didn’t have the guns to put her down. Something was special about that battleship though. I need to find out what that is though. What’s the time to completion?”

“Two hours and change.”

John sighed, “Well, I’ll keep on working or something.”

“Your every bit as bad as Billy is.”

John looked offended, “Right now, maybe. But you know that’s totally false. And you’re being a big softie on him now because he was injured.”

“You literally called him Stumpy. And the nickname stuck. That’s just…”

“I know, Beth already called me horrible.”

“I don’t get how guys can give all of these horrible nicknames. They are just so mean-spirited.”

John laughed, “You’re reading into things too much Eileen. We’re not being mean-spirited. It’s just that men are not all that creative with our nicknames.”

“That doesn’t excuse you for coming up with that name.”

“Fair enough,” John grinned, “Was still kinda funny.”

Eileen rolled her eyes, “Say, when were we supposed to notify fleet command that we’re back to safety?”

“Two hours from now,” John stared at the passive scanner, “They already know something is up, but not the outcomes or not.

CNC was fairly quiet after John’s statement. Passive scanners showed a large number of outgoings, but small slip wakes. Something was very curious about that ship. John would have to be patient for the computer to finish its scan though.

08:00 St. Mary’s Station, First Fleet Command

Admiral Dufresne was sitting at his desk staring at the terminal. There was a confirmation window that requested he confirms the order. It was in response to labeling the stealth and reconnaissance wing missing.

Eventually, he pressed the OK button. He spun around his chair and looked out at the docking ring that his office overlooked. Tim sighed as he thought about what could have been. The promise in that young lieutenant was something he was willing to bet the farm on, but now it felt awfully hopeless.

“Sir, apologies for interrupting you. I thought you’d like to see this intelligence report,” an aide to the admiral’s office said.

“What is it?” Tim asked as he took the data slate from the aid.

“Fleet movements. Alliance has sixty percent of their fleets along our borders. We think it's related to whatever the missing wing did. But why they are so agitated is unknown.”

“Highline Ridge, Lambda Bootis, Iota Draconis, and Tau Gruis. Over a full fleet's worth of ships have been coming and going in all of those systems,” Tim looked at the full list then looked up at the aid, “Are any of these systems identified as possible locations for our missing fleet?”

“Yes sir. Lambda Bootis. We’ve sent probes there but all we’ve detected is the massive amount of traffic coming and going from one of the smaller habitable planets.”

“What about the confirmation of a battle there?”

“Naval Intelligence is not being forthcoming with any intercepted traffic.”

“Of course, they aren’t. I’ll see what I can do on that front.”

“Sir, one more thing. Ensign Lief-Robertson was requesting an update.”

Tim sighed, “Share with her what we know, which is honestly not much but given his message and the wing not communicating with us the signs are not good. Officially they are MIA, we do not have enough information to confirm they are KIA at this time. We continue to hope and pray that the fleet comes home safely.”

“Thank you, sir.”

The aid then left the room. Tim shook his head as he stared at the missing ships. His ships had gone missing for reasons. If anyone came back alive it would be an absolute mess. Multiple inquests would be called at a minimum. The political fallout would be immense.

As it were, the Alliance was postering for a large-scale push into Confederate territory. Things were cooling off until this unexpected attack occurred. The tide had been turning in their Confederate Navy's favor. Now it was hard to see any way for the civilian government to not declare war.

“What a sad state of affairs we have here,” Tim stood and walked over to the window, “If you are out there, please find some way to come home.”

10:45 St. Mary’s Station, Residential Section, Unit 3-B12

Twenty-two long days had gone by. Alice tried to be stoic during the workday, but the moment she got home she was a mess. Unfortunately, she couldn’t keep herself composed at work today. When the high-ups in the fleet marked her husband's ship as missing in action it felt like the first step in a long and painful process.

She wasn’t ready to say goodbye to John. If he was really gone, then the universe had robbed her of a lifetime’s worth of experiences. Was life truly this unfair?

To add insult to injury, the walk back to their condo was interrupted by several bouts of crying. Alice felt like she was turning into a crazy crying lady in a public setting. Thankfully her oldest brother, Terry, used some of his leave and came to Manchester to help out.

Eventually, the siblings managed to make it back to the condo where she could clean up and change into something more comfortable. Her choice of attire to either mourn or settle down was sweatpants and a matching hoodie. She sat on the couch in the living room clutching a pillow to her chest.

Terry sat at the bar and spun his chair back, “Giving up hope this soon?”

“It feels different this time. When our friends were together it felt like we could do anything. But now? I feel so damned helpless.”

“Welcome to the life sis. This is the harsh reality of being in the military.”

“Terry, you are not helping one bit.”

“I know. I’m not sure what the hell to do or so. Hell, I don’t even know why mom and dad asked me to come here. I’ve always sucked at helping you when you were feeling sad.”

Alice let out a quiet giggle, “Does your wife feel this way too?”

“We’ve never been in a situation like this.”

“Dad said you were planning on retiring. I thought you were going to stick it out for your career.”

Terry sighed, “I got my early track review for Captain. Pretty much means I’m stuck as a non-line commander for the rest of my career. I work another twelve years my retirement pay is what, two hundred a year?”

“Work for mom and dad and you can make that in a month just by picking your nose.”

“And mining for gold in my belly button,” Terry laughed awkwardly, “Can’t say that I want to leave the service, but if making captain is an impossibility it makes sense to get out now. And my contract ends in October. Going to take a nice long siesta and start the new year in a new role.”

“We’re committed until we’re thirty. I think John will be a lifer.”

“Sis, you’re going to need to stick to that hope and never give up that he’ll be back. Or…”

“I can’t say goodbye. Not yet. Not yet.”

11:00 CNS Des Moines – Engineering

John, Ana, and Brian were chatting. Ana and Brian were looking at the data slate and then shaking their heads. The readings made no sense though. Gamma and theta radiation were not good things for living beings. Not surprisingly they weren’t generated in large, or even dangerous amounts under normal operating conditions. But that battleship was ground zero for both radiation types.

“Well?” John asked.

“There is no good reason to be outputting that much,” Ana looked very worried.

“Well, no one is alive on that ship. So, we did get a crew kill to add to our tally,” Brian said sarcastically, “Does that planet primarily produce ag products for the Alliance?”

“Then the fleet is here for two reasons. Remediation and to ensure we don’t come in and finish the job. But that doesn’t answer the most obvious question,” John said.

“Woah. No no no no, they can’t be doing that,” Ana said.

“Not a mind reader here.”

“What if those old battleships were rigged with a final solution-style weapon,” Ana said quietly.

“If we can’t win…” John then made a gesture that resembled an explosion, “Boom. Fucking hell. We actually have proof that the Alliance was willing or planning to commit war crimes here. Salting the damn ground.”

Ana and Brian looked at John very worried. She was trembling. Brian’s legs felt weak, so he stepped back and leaned on the terminal behind him. John turned and pressed the communication button on the terminal behind.

“Deniz, need you here stat,” John said, “Need you to confirm our theory. And then we need to figure out something sneaky.”

“In the mess, be there in five.”

John leaned down and stared at the results. It didn’t make sense that they would escalate the war in this manner. Were the Alliance to actually deploy this weapon anywhere near a populated world the Confederate Navy would retaliate in kind. The death toll would be astronomical.

The time felt like it had slowed to a crawl. Eventually, Deniz walked into engineering. He was confused why the three people looked pale. His happy demeanor changed when he walked over to the screen and scanned the readout.

“This is a joke, right?”

“What’s your take on this?”

“Antimatter can be produced only in incredibly small amounts, but if you do it wrong you can create some really awful radiation as a side effect. This looks like someone is trying to do that. And also have something rigged up to do the same for gamma radiation,” Deniz shook his head, “But any crew that would man this ship would die a horrifically painful death after initiating the objects that produce that radiation.”

“We walked ass-backward into something huge now. And now more than ever we need to let our fleet command know this information as soon as possible. We obviously didn’t use a probe to flash anything home because that would kind of let everyone know we were still alive.”

“Problem is there’s a limit on how much information we can flash with a probe. And flashing will let everyone and their brother know that we're here. I’ll get to work on a message that we will load on the probe.”

John nodded, “How long do you need for the probe?”

“Thirty to forty minutes.”

John pointed at Ana and Brian, “Finish the scans on the slipstream stuff, we’re jumping when this is done.”

Engineering quickly morphed into a hotbed of work. John headed out of engineering and began making his way to the secondary bridge. Despite several crewmembers wanting to speak to him he politely excused himself and continued his brisk pace. He was a man on a mission. When he got to the bridge, he surprised the pair of officers that were on duty there.

John sat down on the captain’s chair and opened ship-wide communications, “This is your captain. All hands to your stations. We will be bringing main power back online and jumping out of this system in forty-five minutes.”