The Earthfleet Saga- Volume One

  THE EARTHFLEET SAGA

  Volume One

  By

  Dennis Young

  © All story material Dennis Young 2019

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author(s), except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this book are either the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author(s).

  ISBN-13: 9781795457071

  Printed in the United States of America.

  First published March 2019

  THE EARTHFLEET SAGA

  Volume One

  THE EARTHFLEET SAGA TIMELINE

  The year is 2554 (Old Calendar). Earth continues its recovery from the most devastating wars ever waged. Half the planet is uninhabitable. The other half is overrun with refugees, those ill from effects of fission and fusion weapon use, and diseases that followed. The human population has been reduced by nearly sixty percent. Radiation levels worldwide range from dangerous to lethal.

  Infertility and birth mutations have increased infant mortality to thirty-eight percent. Crop growth has been cut in half. Sea life has suffered at a reduced, but undetermined, rate. Beaches all over the world have been littered with dead sea life for nearly a hundred years. Land fauna and flora have suffered drastic losses.

  Somehow, in the western North American continent, in what was once called disparagingly the “Left Coast”, a pocket of survivors is building a new future. Having commandeered the three remaining space stations orbiting Earth, the main Lunar military establishment, and partnered with the two friendly Martian colony strongholds, Earth Alliance arises. With the best and brightest, in the space of only fifty years following the war, they began to deal with the devastation and desolation that was left.

  The job is far from finished. In fact, it is only now beginning. Earth, the Cradle of Mankind, is all but done. And with the resources of the Moon, Mars, and the Allied Asteroid Belt States, Earth Alliance is now looking beyond Earth. Beyond the Solar System. Beyond that very desolation and destruction.

  Earth Alliance is looking to the Stars.

  In the late 2300’s, the Millennium Project and the Outward Presence Movement began. Generational ships, needing decades to cross the abyss of Space to the closest habitable planets, moved at less than the speed of light. Some never made their destinations, succumbing to the hazards of Space, or of humans confined too long in a limited, struggling, artificial environment. Yet some succeeded.

  In the early 2400’s, the greatest breakthrough in spaceflight was made, and the Lightspeed Barrier was breached. Ships built for sublight travel were quickly modified. New ships were designed and built. Launchings occurred once per year, on the day that became known simply as Naissance. Problems with artificial gravity, environmental systems, and weapons for defense were branched off from the discoveries made by HyperLight Systems.

  But as with every advance in Mankind’s history, a price was extracted. Humans were, after all, still humans. And while many colonies flourished, others did not. Some became ill-managed. Others simply decided their best course of action was piracy. Several became openly hostile toward Mother Earth. Because politics, as always, never died. It only hid for a while. Waiting. Watching. Planning.

  Earthfleet arose, and grew in size and power. A dream for many decades, it became a force within the Earth Alliance, a loose alliance of planets colonized by humans. Again, politics came into play, but this time, with the strength of Earthfleet behind it. It was a benevolent ruling system for the most part, but with teeth. And to this day, still is.

  And as Earthfleet probed the outer reaches of unexplored territory, new races were found; alien races, unlike anything Earth had ever seen. The adage was, “Little Green Men existed, but they were neither little, nor green.”

  There are five known alien species. Three are xenophobic, adversarial, and, in two cases, openly hostile. Skirmishes have occurred, though to this time, hostilities have been short-lived, if deadly. For nearly a hundred years Earthfleet has dealt with these challenges.

  But as with any advancing and expanding culture, confrontations have become more frequent. Disagreements over territories (planets and other resources) have required skillful negotiations in many cases, and the application of the “Big Stick” in others.

  Such are the ships of Earthfleet. While exploration of the galaxy is always the First Directive, the vessels are nonetheless more than capable of defending themselves and Earth Alliance interests.

  It is an interesting time to be alive… in the Olde Earth Chinese sense. And sometimes very, very dangerous.

  ROGUE WORLD

  Starship Bellerophon

  By

  Dennis Young

  Prologue

  Eighteen months prior to EAS Bellerophon launch…

  The labyrinth of alloy trusses and bulkheads stretched before him, bathed in crimson light of the construction dock web. Floating in geosynchronous orbit above the surface of Earth's moon, Armstrong Industries Shipyard was the main facility for AstroDynamics Starship Division, the prime contractor of the new Bellerophon-class vessels.

  It had taken five years of design and engineering, and sixteen months of construction, to bring the new ship to this point. The robotic fabrication and assembly arms tirelessly wove the skeletal bulkheads from durainium into a maze of vertical and longitudinal beams. The brilliant blue arcs of auto-welders flickered along the outline of the hull superstructure suspended within the immense enclosure.

  Captain William Haversen's eyes traced the profile taking shape before him. Modules of interior components, gravimetrics, and systems packages nestled in their own cages surrounding the hull, each undergoing final pre-checks or awaiting scheduled installation. The main HyperLight Systems energy core was in final development, being built and tested at a separate facility, but the entire sub-assembly would be here before he knew it.

  As the pre-commissioning commanding officer and the Earthfleet liaison, it was his job to oversee the project and ensure the design prerequisites mandated by his command authority. In simple terms, he was there to make sure they built it right. Based on his previous experience with Boeing AstroD, he knew that was the least of his concerns.

  As his inspection sled passed forward of the bow, a smile creased his face. The excitement had never left him. Even though this was his fifth class-ship assignment, he never tired of the details, the responsibility, even the drama of preparation for Prime Launch. At the present rate of progress, he knew standing on her unfurnished Bridge for the first time would be only weeks away, and helming her shakedown cruise mere months following that.

  It would not be soon enough.

  One

  Shakedown

  “Duty Log, Captain William Haversen, 160704.6. EAS Bellerophon has been ordered to Sector Twelve of the Jen’riss Interdiction Zone in support of EAS Addisson. Addisson is suffering from three years of cumulative damage, wear, and system degradation, and will put in at Fleet Base Eight for repairs and refitting. Bellerophon is currently enroute and will rendezvous with Addisson in about twelve hours.

  “I can’t emphasize how honored and fortunate we
are to have been chosen for this assignment. Addisson is becoming a legend in Earthfleet, and any assistance we can provide is offered with sincere appreciation of her service.”

  * * *

  Haversen paused the recorder, thinking. Deciding he had nothing to add, he switched it off.

  “Engineering to Captain.”

  He pressed the intercom button. “Haversen here, what’s the analysis, Mr. Simmons?”

  “As we thought, the phase coils are out of alignment and need recalibration. Four hours minimum.”

  “Can we maintain speed at all?”

  A pause as Simmons spoke to a tech away from the intercom. “80c, Captain, nothing more.”

  “Make your preparations, I’ll be on the Bridge in a few minutes and order reduced speed.”

  “Aye, sir. We’ll do our best.”

  Haversen closed the connection. I know you will. She’s a new ship and things are bound to go wrong. That’s what shakedown cruises are all about. Even when we’re ordered to the Jen’riss I-Zone to relieve one of the most prestigious ships in Earthfleet.

  Haversen exited his quarters quickly. Bellerophon’s corridors were tight, and the ship itself more compact than others he’d been in command of. Ships like those of the Eisenhower class, one of which Bellerophon now sped to offer needed relief.

  Addisson had been out for three years and the cumulative issues had reached a point only Fleet facilities could correct. And since it would take time, a general upgrade had been included in that timeframe, meaning Bellerophon would take up Addisson’s tasks; exploration, investigation, and of course, deterrence along the I-Zone. Haversen expected no less than a six-month cruise. Plenty of time to work the bugs out of a brand-new ship.

  Bellerophon was different than Addisson in several ways. Bellerophon was primarily a fighting vessel, built, armed, and equipped to do exactly the type of duty involved in deterrence. She was leaner, faster, quicker, carried a crew of less than three hundred, many of those superfluous except in times of combat. She was also recipient of Earthfleet’s latest and most advanced weaponry and defensive systems, including the newest BlackMark stealth equipment, “smart torpedo” launchers, and Particlebeam Accelerator Kinetic-energy Systems (PAKS). Her sensor capability was second to none, and the new auto-modulating detectors could track a fully-stealthed ship if everything was working correctly. But on a new ship, with untested equipment and a new crew, “working correctly” was a relative term.

  Haversen entered the lift and tapped for the Bridge. The car moved smoothly upward. Four decks later, the doors opened and Haversen stepped into the heart of Bellerophon.

  The Bridge buzzed. Comm, Engineering, Tactical, Sciences, Counter Measures, Helm, Nav, Secondary Systems; all were manned and active. An arc of screens and instruments was the only illumination source, save the dim lights above Bridge center. The main viewer showed an extrapolated view of hyperspace, as the ship was enclosed in a bubble of “real-time”, and technically decoupled from the material universe.

  The man in the command seat rose as Haversen approached. “I relieve you, Lieutenant Richards.”

  “Aye, sir.” Richards motioned the helmswoman from her chair and took his place at the con.

  Haversen scanned the Bridge. “Report.”

  “Communications is clear, sir, no incoming or outgoing transmissions, nothing outlying or encrypted we can detect.” Lieutenant Sabrina Shaw scanned her readouts, noting clear channels throughout.

  “Alert from Engineering received. Awaiting your orders to reduce speed.”

  The E-tech at Engineering looked expectantly and Haversen nodded. “80c, Ensign, keep an eye on your readouts.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  Haversen glanced at the woman seated at Tactical. “What are we shooting at today, Karina?”

  Karina Vikihrov’s finely-chiseled features showed a wry grin. “Nothing, sir. Targeting is clear.”

  Haversen allowed himself a brief smile. Karina’s Russian accent always brought good thoughts. He looked to his right. “Sciences?”

  “No current anomalies in the area, Captain.” Lieutenant Commander Aiko Somura, head of the Sciences Division, turned to Haversen. “We have glitches in the long-range sensors, which I’ve reported to IT and Engineering.”

  Haversen nodded. “Helm and Nav?”

  “Helm responding normally, sir,” replied Richards.

  “Navigation clear, Captain.” Lieutenant James Reid looked over his shoulder to Haversen. “Nav is also experiencing difficulties, sir. IT says three hours. Electronics check out, so it’s a software problem.”

  “Nothing we didn’t expect on an initial cruise,” replied Haversen. “Do your best and keep IT informed. Call your relief to the Bridge to man Aux-Nav if necessary. If anything goes down, let me know immediately.” He glanced to the Secondary Systems station. “Where is the XO?”

  “Commander Ndashimye is off duty, sir.” Shaw at Comm answered. “Shall I call her to the Bridge?”

  “When is she due?”

  Shaw read the duty listing as it scrolled by. “0600 Hours, sir, about thirty minutes.”

  “We’ll wait. Everyone, I can’t tell you how important this mission is. Addisson needs a rest and it’s our job to take up her tasks. So we have two jobs, really; fill in for Addisson and shake the bugs out of Bellerophon. Think we can do it?”

  A chorus of “aye, sir’s” met his ears. He grinned. This may be a new crew and a new ship, but it’s all going to work out fine.

  * * *

  Emile Ndashimye didn’t know how the open paint bottle had ended up on the floor, or how best to remove spatters of cerulean blue from her boots, duty pants, and now her hands. Only three days out from Fleet Base Eight and already her tiny studio was in shambles.

  Not shambles, she thought, only a minor setback and a lesson in how uncooperative art can be in the pursuit of calm and clarity.

  Now, with her shift due in ten minutes, she shed the soiled garments, changed into her spare boots, and carefully inserted her hands into the cleanser.

  The intelligent thing to do is not pursue my pastimes in uniform. I need a lab coat for future use. A very long lab coat.

  Ndashimye was of African Tutsi stock, dark-skinned, tall and slender as her people tended to be, with a creative mind and love of the arts. But her strong streak of duty was a factor she had struggled with all her life.

  For two years she had practiced painting to ease her rigid attitudes, attempting to find some quiet release and relaxation. To date, the experiment had yielded mixed results.

  The cleanser light showed green, and she retracted her now paint-free hands, donned a fresh uniform, stepped from her quarters to the lift, and with only seconds to spare, entered the Bridge.

  “XO reporting for duty, sir.” It was only then she noticed the splotches of cerulean blue on her wrist and arm.

  Haversen swiveled to face her. “Right on time, Commander. Take the con, I need to visit Engineering.”

  Ndashimye paused. “Permission to make myself more… presentable, Captain. A minor mishap in my studio. My apologies.”

  Haversen grinned. Several of the crew stifled smiles. “See to it and I’ll wait.”

  “Thank you, sir.” She exited quickly. Several soft chuckles were heard around the duty stations.

  “A good officer is always aware of her image,” said Richards from the helm. The earnestness of his tone was offered with a half-smile.

  Haversen grinned again. Even Karina at Tactical was working hard to suppress a grin.

  “She’ll be fine,” said Haversen, as he punched the intercom button. “Bridge to Engineering. Tell Chief Simmons I’ll be there in a bit. Our XO had a bit of a go with a bottle of paint, it appears.”

  The tech on the other end of the comm was heard stifling a laugh. “Ah… yes, sir. The Chief says take your time, we’re not going anywhere. So to speak.”

  * * *

  “So tell me again how brand-new primary phase coils can get out
of alignment.” Haversen sat with Chief Simmons in the Engineering Office, coffee in hand and diagrams scattered over the table.

  “They didn’t get out of alignment, they were defective when manufactured. Lucky we have spares.” Simmons motioned to the hard copies. “When I said four hours, that was before we knew we’d have to do a full replacement. Now we’re lookin’ at three days.”

  “We’ve not seen this problem before. When we were in Westminster, it was the inverters, wasn’t it? What if the replacements are defective, too?”

  Simmons shook his head. “Then, Captain, we have a real problem. We’ll do a full scan once they’re in place and powered up.”

  Haversen mused, watching the viewscreen as a dozen E-techs worked to uncrate the replacement coils deep in the cargo hold.

  “Stony, we’re less than ten hours from rendezvous with Addisson. We can’t do a change-out before then, and once we’re on station, we’ll still need full systems. We can’t be sublight for three days.”

  “We can run off emergency power for six hours, givin’ us 80c max. Can we live with that?”

  Haversen blew a breath and ran a hand over his lightly-graying hair. “Alternatives?”

  Simmons considered for a moment. “Hail Addisson, see if they’ve got spares.”

  Haversen nodded. “Good idea, but they’d be old-line parts and may not work, right?”

  “Coils are just energy conduits, but that’s a good point. Lower efficiency, run hotter… we’d have to keep an eye on ‘em closely.”

  “Estimated max speed with those? Care to make a guess?” Haversen grinned.

  Simmons’s gave him a sour look and mused for moments. “No idea, but off the top of my head I’d say a 100c at the most. Maybe not even that.”

  “Bridge to Captain Haversen.” Ndashimye’s voice was soft though the intercom.