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nebris~The Conclave scout cruiser skipped in about a light year out from the system's star. The ship was originally a Rraey battle cruiser, but it had been extensively modified to accommodate a multi-race crew in addition to installing an extensive sensor suite. The Captain was a Lalan and the XO a Vreen. The rest of the crew came from nineteen other races. This mixture helped assure the Conclave Council that its reports were 'accurate and true'.
The system they were approaching was simply listed as Tsushuzi Colony Number Three. Not much was known about the Tsushuzi – like the names of their two colony worlds – and it seemed like things would remain that way as they now appeared to be an extinct race.
The Captain frown at the view-screen. “Enlarge,” he ordered. The distant world grew larger. It seemed an ordinary planet, blue and green more or less. “Take us in two light months.” The View-screen flickered. The world remained unchanged. “Take us in two more light months.” The View-screen flickered again. The Captain grunted. The world was now a swirling mass of gray with orange/red flashes.
The Bridge Crew looked on as well, their respective expressions showing what would called be 'grim' or 'horrified' on their home worlds. They were looking at a murdered planet. The Captain sighed. “Take us back one light day at a time.” Eight skips back and the view-screen once again showed an ordinary world. “Hold here.” They sat and waited. The Watch changed, but the Captain stayed put, eating and dozing a bit in the Command Chair.
A little over fourteen hours passed....and then multiple skip signatures began to register, the view too large to see the individual ships, but quite clear to the ship's sensor array. What followed however was all too visible, the blue/white actinic flashes of dozens of large thermonuclear weapons detonating just inside the planet's atmosphere. They seemed endless. The entire surface of the planet was on fire. After a short while, the smoke became a solid overcast.
No-one said anything for a few moments.
The Captain turned to the Navigation Officer, the being in charge of the ship's sensors. “How many?” he said. The NO blinked, checked her instruments. “Umm...one hundred and twenty seven detonations, sir.” She scanned another panel. “All within the one hundred forty eight to one hundred and fifty one megaton range. All very very dirty.”
The Captain signed again. “Are survivors possible?” he asked, though he knew the answer already.
“Unlikely, sir,” the NO said. “Anyone on or near the surface would be dead within two rotations or less. Below the surface I can't say, but readings show substantial of tectonic actively after the attack. Several of the blasts appear to have been sub-surface.”
“Very well,” said the Captain. “Helm, take us in to about one light day out. We should be safe at that distance.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the Helmsmen.
~*~
The scout cruiser got to within roughly four hundred thousand kilometers before the radiation levels became too dangerous. But that was close enough to see the planet's gray black surface, swathed in streamers of ugly gray clouds, with flashes of orange where lava belched up through the its shattered mantel.
The Bridge remained largely silent through all of this. They were all veterans of various fights over colony worlds, but none of them had ever seen this level of total and complete devastation. It would tens of thousands of years before life could ever return to this world.
“The humans have gone utterly insane,” said the XO.
“No,” said the Captain, “They knew exactly what they were doing. This may be monstrous and evil, but the massage is brutally clear; if you attack us, we will kill your worlds forever.”
“They we should annihilate them all now!” the XO said with vehemence.
“And risk this?” The Captain indicated the dead world hanging before them. “That would be a war no-one would win.”
“Captain, I have the readings on the delivery vehicles,” said the NO.
The Captain turned toward her.
She continued. “I had to dig. They're all very old CU scouts and corvettes, nearly all over a hundred to hundred and fifty years old. But definitely human and definitely CDF.”
The Captain looked tired. “I have long heard rumors that the humans maintain vast ship bone yards hidden away in obscure systems without habitable worlds. I guess they're true.”
“So these were suicide ships? The XO said.
“I did not get any life sign readings at all,” said the NO.
“Not the human way, “ said the Captain. “They just stripped out the crew quarters and weapons, stuck a big bomb inside, then used an autopilot. No need for anything complex, just skip to edge of the planet's atmosphere and 'Boom!' They probably all skipped a few times from one of those hidden bases.”
The Captain looked back at the view-screen. “Have we gotten all the readings we need?”
“Yes, sir,” said the NO.
“Very well. Helm, get us out of here.”
“Yes, sir!” said the Helmsman with emphasis.
As they pulled away and got ready to skip, the Captain wondered if the other two scout cruisers, one for the Tsushuzi Home World and one for Colony Number Two had gotten the same results. He suspected they had, slumped slightly in the Command Chair.
“The humans are brilliant monsters,” he muttered. The Bridge Crew pretended not to hear him.
~*~
Because it was so massive, a full and complete rotation of Conclave Station took approximately thirty one Colonial Standard hours. That became a Station 'day'. Said diurnal cycle was then divided into sixteen sub-units, which became Station 'hours'. It was then agreed, after much wrangling, that two hundred and sixty of these diurnal cycles would constitutive one Station 'year'. It was then agreed that each of these 'years' with be broken into six forty day 'months', which were named 'Sur' after the Vreen name for month. That was an in honor of General Gau.
But there were no names for individual months or days. Breaking that down among four hundred and twelve races would have been a cultural and political nightmare, so they skipped the whole thing. Station 'days' were merely numbered.
And so it was that on the 16th Day of Third Sur of Fifth Cycle, Station Calendar, the Colonial Union Diplomatic Ship Ashtabula requested docking instructions from Conclave Station Control.
The Ashtabula was an eighty year old battle cruiser that had been brought out of retirement and refurbished for this task. That 'refurbishment' had consisted largely of ripping out the offensive weapons suite and filling that empty space with 'diplomatic quarters'. Otherwise, she was unchanged, though like all CDF ships, she still ran just fine. But if The Conclave chose to seize her, all they'd get was a well preserved antique.
This did however mean that she took rather a bit longer to get to her skip point than the newer ships, but Ambassador Rigney and his staff used that time to keep studying the intel on The Conclave, files which were scrubbed just before the last skip to Conclave Station. And the trip was quite comfy because the 'diplomatic quarters' were very spacious. Missile launchers and their magazines took up a hell of a lot of room on a battle cruiser.
Edward Softly new Sec of State.
nine months have passed since since the destruction of the Earth Station. General Gau 'we have the force of time on our side' decides to wait out the CU, believing it will crack within twenty years, especially if they can be permanently divided from Earth. To those who want to wipe out humanity, he cautions, “Remember, there is an unknown third force at play here.” Many believe that the Consu are somewhere in that mix, though how and why is a mystery. Hence, caution prevails.
The CU Ambassador Able Rigney arrives at Conclave Station. 'we have lots bombs'
Gau speaking about the bombs; “I am familiar with the weapons they speak of. Yes, they are easy to produce and in very large numbers. But they are inherently unstable. In ten to twelve of the human's standard rotations, the weapon's ability to detonate will begin to degrade and rapidly. In another half dozens rotations most of them are unlikely to detonate at all. Each one would need regular physical maintenance to prevent that degradation. That is a daunting proposition, going out to service thousands of these weapons scattered all over the place. And keep their locations secret while doing so. I suspect that is why they used scout ships and corvettes. Those are very large platforms for such a weapon. In all probability the humans used that space to create an environment of optimal stability for the weapons within those hulls in order to maximize their operational usage without having to engage in any regular maintenance. [laughs] This is a classic Colonial bluff to buy time.”
“The existence of the Colonial Union can be used to solidify The Conclave. A terrifying external enemy is a useful tool. Their brutal retaliation against the Tsushuzi has already driven a dozen races into joining The Conclave seeking our protection. Let us use this gift wisely.”
The system they were approaching was simply listed as Tsushuzi Colony Number Three. Not much was known about the Tsushuzi – like the names of their two colony worlds – and it seemed like things would remain that way as they now appeared to be an extinct race.
The Captain frown at the view-screen. “Enlarge,” he ordered. The distant world grew larger. It seemed an ordinary planet, blue and green more or less. “Take us in two light months.” The View-screen flickered. The world remained unchanged. “Take us in two more light months.” The View-screen flickered again. The Captain grunted. The world was now a swirling mass of gray with orange/red flashes.
The Bridge Crew looked on as well, their respective expressions showing what would called be 'grim' or 'horrified' on their home worlds. They were looking at a murdered planet. The Captain sighed. “Take us back one light day at a time.” Eight skips back and the view-screen once again showed an ordinary world. “Hold here.” They sat and waited. The Watch changed, but the Captain stayed put, eating and dozing a bit in the Command Chair.
A little over fourteen hours passed....and then multiple skip signatures began to register, the view too large to see the individual ships, but quite clear to the ship's sensor array. What followed however was all too visible, the blue/white actinic flashes of dozens of large thermonuclear weapons detonating just inside the planet's atmosphere. They seemed endless. The entire surface of the planet was on fire. After a short while, the smoke became a solid overcast.
No-one said anything for a few moments.
The Captain turned to the Navigation Officer, the being in charge of the ship's sensors. “How many?” he said. The NO blinked, checked her instruments. “Umm...one hundred and twenty seven detonations, sir.” She scanned another panel. “All within the one hundred forty eight to one hundred and fifty one megaton range. All very very dirty.”
The Captain signed again. “Are survivors possible?” he asked, though he knew the answer already.
“Unlikely, sir,” the NO said. “Anyone on or near the surface would be dead within two rotations or less. Below the surface I can't say, but readings show substantial of tectonic actively after the attack. Several of the blasts appear to have been sub-surface.”
“Very well,” said the Captain. “Helm, take us in to about one light day out. We should be safe at that distance.”
“Yes, sir,” replied the Helmsmen.
The scout cruiser got to within roughly four hundred thousand kilometers before the radiation levels became too dangerous. But that was close enough to see the planet's gray black surface, swathed in streamers of ugly gray clouds, with flashes of orange where lava belched up through the its shattered mantel.
The Bridge remained largely silent through all of this. They were all veterans of various fights over colony worlds, but none of them had ever seen this level of total and complete devastation. It would tens of thousands of years before life could ever return to this world.
“The humans have gone utterly insane,” said the XO.
“No,” said the Captain, “They knew exactly what they were doing. This may be monstrous and evil, but the massage is brutally clear; if you attack us, we will kill your worlds forever.”
“They we should annihilate them all now!” the XO said with vehemence.
“And risk this?” The Captain indicated the dead world hanging before them. “That would be a war no-one would win.”
“Captain, I have the readings on the delivery vehicles,” said the NO.
The Captain turned toward her.
She continued. “I had to dig. They're all very old CU scouts and corvettes, nearly all over a hundred to hundred and fifty years old. But definitely human and definitely CDF.”
The Captain looked tired. “I have long heard rumors that the humans maintain vast ship bone yards hidden away in obscure systems without habitable worlds. I guess they're true.”
“So these were suicide ships? The XO said.
“I did not get any life sign readings at all,” said the NO.
“Not the human way, “ said the Captain. “They just stripped out the crew quarters and weapons, stuck a big bomb inside, then used an autopilot. No need for anything complex, just skip to edge of the planet's atmosphere and 'Boom!' They probably all skipped a few times from one of those hidden bases.”
The Captain looked back at the view-screen. “Have we gotten all the readings we need?”
“Yes, sir,” said the NO.
“Very well. Helm, get us out of here.”
“Yes, sir!” said the Helmsman with emphasis.
As they pulled away and got ready to skip, the Captain wondered if the other two scout cruisers, one for the Tsushuzi Home World and one for Colony Number Two had gotten the same results. He suspected they had, slumped slightly in the Command Chair.
“The humans are brilliant monsters,” he muttered. The Bridge Crew pretended not to hear him.
Because it was so massive, a full and complete rotation of Conclave Station took approximately thirty one Colonial Standard hours. That became a Station 'day'. Said diurnal cycle was then divided into sixteen sub-units, which became Station 'hours'. It was then agreed, after much wrangling, that two hundred and sixty of these diurnal cycles would constitutive one Station 'year'. It was then agreed that each of these 'years' with be broken into six forty day 'months', which were named 'Sur' after the Vreen name for month. That was an in honor of General Gau.
But there were no names for individual months or days. Breaking that down among four hundred and twelve races would have been a cultural and political nightmare, so they skipped the whole thing. Station 'days' were merely numbered.
And so it was that on the 16th Day of Third Sur of Fifth Cycle, Station Calendar, the Colonial Union Diplomatic Ship Ashtabula requested docking instructions from Conclave Station Control.
The Ashtabula was an eighty year old battle cruiser that had been brought out of retirement and refurbished for this task. That 'refurbishment' had consisted largely of ripping out the offensive weapons suite and filling that empty space with 'diplomatic quarters'. Otherwise, she was unchanged, though like all CDF ships, she still ran just fine. But if The Conclave chose to seize her, all they'd get was a well preserved antique.
This did however mean that she took rather a bit longer to get to her skip point than the newer ships, but Ambassador Rigney and his staff used that time to keep studying the intel on The Conclave, files which were scrubbed just before the last skip to Conclave Station. And the trip was quite comfy because the 'diplomatic quarters' were very spacious. Missile launchers and their magazines took up a hell of a lot of room on a battle cruiser.
Edward Softly new Sec of State.
nine months have passed since since the destruction of the Earth Station. General Gau 'we have the force of time on our side' decides to wait out the CU, believing it will crack within twenty years, especially if they can be permanently divided from Earth. To those who want to wipe out humanity, he cautions, “Remember, there is an unknown third force at play here.” Many believe that the Consu are somewhere in that mix, though how and why is a mystery. Hence, caution prevails.
The CU Ambassador Able Rigney arrives at Conclave Station. 'we have lots bombs'
Gau speaking about the bombs; “I am familiar with the weapons they speak of. Yes, they are easy to produce and in very large numbers. But they are inherently unstable. In ten to twelve of the human's standard rotations, the weapon's ability to detonate will begin to degrade and rapidly. In another half dozens rotations most of them are unlikely to detonate at all. Each one would need regular physical maintenance to prevent that degradation. That is a daunting proposition, going out to service thousands of these weapons scattered all over the place. And keep their locations secret while doing so. I suspect that is why they used scout ships and corvettes. Those are very large platforms for such a weapon. In all probability the humans used that space to create an environment of optimal stability for the weapons within those hulls in order to maximize their operational usage without having to engage in any regular maintenance. [laughs] This is a classic Colonial bluff to buy time.”
“The existence of the Colonial Union can be used to solidify The Conclave. A terrifying external enemy is a useful tool. Their brutal retaliation against the Tsushuzi has already driven a dozen races into joining The Conclave seeking our protection. Let us use this gift wisely.”
