Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

April 20 2184, 11:52 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard USNI Orbital Base "Alamo" In HPO Around Earth

Admiral Sheffield returned the salute. "Have a good trip Lieutenants," he said. "I'll see you back here in a week."
"Yes, sir," Lieutenant Rivera and Hill said in unison. They turned and boarded the shuttle that would take them to the Houston Space Elevator. With there ship out of commission, there was no need to have the crew cooped up on the ship or even on the Alamo. He'd given leave to whoever had wanted it and most had.
Of his bridge officers, only Baldwin and Walker had remained. He thought it was odd that they didn't take free leave. Sheffield liked to think it was some deep seeded loyalty to the USNI or maybe even him. Secretly however, he knew the true reason or at least speculated at it. There was a secret romance growing between the two of them. The Navy strictly forbade such relationships but Sheffield wasn't such a stickler. What happened behind closed doors was none of his business, not in this regard at least. As long as they continued to pretend nothing was happening between them, he would too.
Lieutenant Baldwin was with him now. Sheffield had barely stepped off the Thermopylae before he'd been summoned to a meeting with the Admiralty. His Communications Officer was escorting him.
They walked along and took an elevator. It left one spinning section of the Alamo and brought them to another. It was called Section Three on the map, but the fleet knew it by a different name; the Lion's Den. No one below the rank of Captain was permitted through without specific orders. The guard that permitted them after they left the tram looked suspiciously at Lieutenant Baldwin. Sheffield told the man that he was his assistant but the guard wouldn't admit them inside before a full clearance scan. It took a full six minutes to confirm Baldwin's ID, run a brief background check, and log the incident into the base's network for further scrutiny. The door finally opened and they walked in.
It was the smallest of the Alamo's eight rotating sections. Sheffield walked down the main corridor. Despite the apparently high security, there were still a large number of people in the section.
They reached the entrance to the meeting room and found no less than three armed guards standing by. Sheffield wouldn't have been surprised to find a squad of Marines on standby within earshot.
Sheffield showed them his Navy ID card and they proceeded to sweep him for electronic devices. They confiscated his datapad with the promise of returning it after he left. Baldwin was a problem though.
"Only those people named by Fleet Admiral McDermott may go inside," explained the guard. "I'm sorry Lieutenant but you'll have to wait out here."
Sheffield was ready to challenge the guard but Baldwin submitted. "It's fine sir," he told him. "I'll be waiting out here once you're finished."
Sheffield nodded and the guards opened up the first of two doors. He walked inside and it closed behind him. The space between the two would have shamed a proper walk in closet. He waited as another laser scanned his body for any devices the guards had missed. Satisfied, the computer's cold female voice said, "Approved. Please go inside Admiral Sheffield."
The next door opened and revealed a round grey table with six padded chairs. Four of them were filled. Sheffield felt the tightening of his bowels; the natural instinct of being in the presence of so many higher-ups. It made little difference that he was one of them.
Admiral McDermott stood at his arrival and greeted him. "Welcome Sheffield, it's good to see you again."
"You as well, sir."
The Fleet Admiral gestured to the three other men that were seated and said, "I'm not sure if you've been introduced before." He looked at the closest man and said, "Sheffield, this is Admiral Wessington. He's the head of the United Solar Naval Initiative's Reconnaissance and Stealth Division." Sheffield had never seen the man before. But then again, being the head of the Navy's stealth department, he wouldn't be very good at what he did if he had. Wessington was thin and wiry. He had greasy black hair that had been combed over to hide a prominent bald spot.
"Nice to meet you," Sheffield said.
"And this is Admiral Galanos," McDermott said. The woman looked Mediterranean. She had dark hair, dark complexion, and darker eyes. "She is the person in charge of Earth's Orbital Defense Group." She nodded casually toward Sheffield.
The last Admiral was the only one that Sheffield recognized. His fate had nearly paralleled that of his. He'd started out in the Air Force and climbed the ranks until he became a General. Sheffield had worked with him indirectly during the Red War on several occasions. After the war, Sheffield had heard they'd transferred him to the United Nations Space Force. Apparently he'd been transferred once more.
"This is Admiral Omar," McDermott said. "He run's Venus' Carrier Groups." The Fleet Admiral turned back to him and said, "As I'm sure the rest of you already know, this is Admiral Sheffield. He's the head of the USNI's, as of now, only Battle Group. Take a seat Admiral."
Sheffield sat down in the black leather chair. He saw that his name was stenciled into a metal plate in the table in front of his seat. He looked over at the empty chair beside him. Stenciled on the table in front of it was: Admiral Nathaniel Turner- Mars Orbital Defenses.
McDermott cleared his throat and said, "I think we should first begin this meeting by congratulating Admiral Sheffield." Congratulations? Sheffield felt that a demotion would have been more suitable. He thought that the Fleet Admiral was joking but his eyes were all business.
"It was a hairy situation you were put into Allen," he said. "You did well though. Fist of Jupiter is no closer to our network databases than they were before and you got all the surviving ships that you could out of there."
Sheffield nodded. He didn't feel the same but he couldn't let that be known. Admirals had to be many things but modest and self-doubting were not any of them.
Sheffield still had no idea why he was at this meeting. However, McDermott was always direct and to the point, so he decided to trust him. He always appreciated that quality in a commanding officer. True to character, the Fleet Admiral did not waste any time.
"I know I don't need to remind anyone here that anything discussed in this room does not leave this room, but it makes me feel better anyway. Most of the material covered will be made public soon enough, but until then, can be regarded as highly classified information."
The Fleet admiral set his datapad on the table and pointed it at the far wall. The little device projected a white screen onto the wall as Wessington dimmed the lights. "For the last two weeks, the boys down in Evaluation and Analysis have been tearing apart every last shred of video acquired during the Battle for Mars to try and make some sense out of it. Today we're going to go over what they came up with."
McDermott tapped the datapad and large blocky letters that read, "Fist of Jupiter," came up. "Fist of Jupiter's technology is not only highly advanced but also significantly different than any known military organization. From this fact, we've deduced that they have no Earth-bound affiliations. We thought that their name might have been an indicator but we've already investigated the Jupiter System. Besides the scattered scientific outposts and the handful of civilian settlements, there's nothing there." McDermott tapped the pad and a spectroscopic chart came up. It was the one that showed the faint heat signatures of twelve enemy ships, the reason the Mar's System had been abandoned. "Further, it is still a mystery as to how they not only built such a large fleet, but did so without being detected. They would have needed immense industrial power and a wealthy supply of resources. The location of FoJ's base of operations is still, as of now, unknown."
"As far as the enemy's ships and how they function, we've been able to make several conclusions. I think you'll find them interesting." The projection changed, showing a rough blueprint sketch of one of their frigates. The Fleet Admiral looked over at him. "Sheffield, you fought them head on. Please share what you learned about their ship's durability."
Sheffield sat up straighter and thought for a moment. "Of the two ships that I engaged personally, only one was completely destroyed. It was pulled into Mar's gravity well and was torn apart-but not before multiple missile strikes by our ships." The other Admirals listened to him with rapt attention. "Their carrier lost sixty percent structural mass by my calculations after similar missile strikes and taking a direct shot from my ship's main cannon. We slowed it down but did not destroy it."
"That is all correct except that our analysts concluded that it actually lost sixty two percent mass," the Fleet Admiral said. "Their ship's are incredibly resilient. Under careful examination of the video feed, we've decided that their ships structures are vastly different than our own." A diagram came up showing a hypothetical 3-D view of the interior of the ship. The image looked nothing like USNI ships. It appeared that there were large sections of the ship that were unused. He didn't understand.
"Their ships seem to have a system of compartments that have no other use than to absorb damage." A missile materialized out of nowhere and headed toward the floating model. When it hit, the concussion punctured three different sections but left the important parts like the crew quarters and the engine undamaged. "These compartments are honeycombed throughout the ship making them structurally superior to our own," McDermott explained. "Missiles can tear through five decks of armor without hitting anything important; railgun rounds can turn them to Swiss cheese, but unless we know where to target, they'll just keep smiling at us."
"A ship with such a design leads to several implications. First and foremost is that it must have a very small crew. Our estimates are no more than twenty personnel on such a model as this," McDermott said about the holographic frigate. Sheffield was stunned. It was unheard of to have so few people on such a large vessel. "In light of this, we've realized their ships may be vulnerable to a boarding action." He had thought the same thing. With only room for two dozen crewmen on board, he doubted that they would waste any room for Marines. Or did they have automated defenses on board?
McDermott surveyed their faces and then said, "I know the question that all of you are waiting to ask so I'll save you the time. The answer is no, after two weeks of intensive research, we haven't learned anything useful about their weapon systems. We know that they are energy based weapons; using some kind of advanced laser or plasma technology that is beyond ours. It works by superheating molecules and breaking them down to the atomic level. We're currently doing research on unconventional means of defense against them."
"Their engines remain a mystery to us as well. They also use some sort of laser technology for propulsion that can double over as point defense. Whatever it is must be non-nuclear and powerful enough to operate their laser weapons which require a tremendous amount of energy. As I'm sure Sheffield can vouch for first hand, these bastards are difficult to detect. Such an energy system would create a lot of thermal energy. Despite this, their ships are incredibly elusive. They're nearly undetectable except when they're at close range or are using excessive power. This leads us to believe they must have some kind of cooling system integrated throughout their ships. It lowers the temperature of the outer armor to match that of space." Admiral Wessington leaned forward and paid particularly close attention during this. It was his specialty after all.
"Even though it is unknown how they operate, we believe they are their ships weak points." He changed the projection to a video feed from a SCARAB during the battle. "I think you'll enjoy this."
The feed began and showed a volley of missiles being launched from the heavy gunships. They streaked through space toward the tail end of a frigate. Laser defenses wiped out half of them, but the surviving missiles hit their engine exhaust. It seemed to fracture and then shatter before the entire ship exploded.
"Their propulsion system seems to be very fragile. If we can destroy the exhaust port, it just might rupture the whole system." Sheffield made a mental note of this. It wasn't likely that he would see the tail end of any of their ships during battle, but if he did he'd know exactly how to monopolize on the chance.
Everything that Sheffield had heard until this point had been shocking to him. He didn't like what the Fleet Admiral said next. "Alright ladies and gentlemen, I hope you have your seatbelts firmly fastened. This is when today's presentation takes a turn for the... bizarre."
The video feed changed to earlier during the battle. Single ships engaged, firing missiles and becoming short-lived fireballs when they hit. "I want you all to watch these videos and tell me if you notice anything unusual."
Admiral Omar nodded and said, "Their single ships don't have any cannons but they do have laser point defense systems. If this is accurate, our fighters would have an advantage in a dogfight."
"That's very good Admiral. You're correct in that regard but there's something else here." He looked over at Sheffield again. The Fleet Admiral seemed to enjoy putting him on the spot. "Admiral Sheffield, you were once a fighter pilot for the UNSF. Do you notice anything out of the ordinary?"
Sheffield looked close as the ships danced and twirled through space. USNI pilots were the best in the Solar System. None of them would hesitate for a moment to push themselves to the periphery of what a human could handle. Though the more he watched, he saw that at nearly every encounter the Fist of Jupiter ships were outmaneuvering their own ships. It took him another few moments to comprehend but finally he said, "The enemy fighters do not have human pilots on board."
"That's correct Sheffield." The other Admirals gasped at this revelation. "In fact, we don't believe they are controlled by humans at all. They're handled by computer intelligence. That's why they are faster and more agile then our own. However, we may be able to use this to our advantage. They might be faster, but hey can't think like a human. There are numerous examples when pilots used innovative tactics to get the upper hand during the battle. The enemy adjusts their tactics eventually but we have something no computer can obtain; creativity."
"There are two possibilities on how the computer intelligence works. The ships either have their computer pilots on board, in which case we'd have to destroy each ship separately. However, due to how coordinated they are and how expensive such a design would be, we believe there is another possibility. The ships are controlled by a single computer on board one of their ships. Logically it would make sense that their mother ships; the FoJ carriers are the brains that control them. We don't know how it works but if we can destroy the carriers, it should neutralize their fighters."
It was another tactical consideration. The analysts had done well. The more they knew, the better prepared they would be to win the next time around.
The picture changed to a still frame of a camera from the Washington base. It showed a Fist of Jupiter soldier lying on the ground. He'd been blown in half, his body was missing from the waste down and his helmet lay a few yards away. The soldier was bald with a goatee and had a scar that ran across his eye.
Another still frame appeared beside this one. It was a mission playback from a marine. On the bottom of the screen it read, "PFC J. Grabowski- Mission Time 1:56:27." It showed another soldier in the standard grey blue armor of Fist of Jupiter. The man was bald with a goatee. There was a scar across his eye.
It was Sheffield's turn to gasp. What was going on? Could the soldiers just look very similar, brothers maybe? The similarity was uncanny and he knew that if they took a closer look, the scar over each one's eyes would match up precisely with the other.
"That's right everyone. We're dealing with AI single fighters and a clone army. We thought these two soldiers may have just been a fluke but throughout the battle, whenever we see the face of one, this is who we see."
"Who is he?" Admiral Galanos asked in a voice far too calm for how Sheffield felt.
"Honestly, we don't know. A few weeks ago, you might remember that we executed a black ops mission on colony C45. We had two suspects that we tried to capture. We caught one but the second that escaped, yours truly. Mr. John Doe himself." Sheffield felt ill. They had to fight enemy ships with no pilots and soldiers that were copies of one man. Theoretically, this entire army could be masterminded by one single man, whoever the hell he was. He knew that couldn't possible but just the thought was unsettling.
"I see that look on all of your faces and believe me; I felt that way when I first heard this. Trust me though, there's some light at the end of this tunnel. Between this cloned army, the computer controlled fighters, and the small capacity of their ships, it means their army is much smaller than we thought. It also means they don't have as large of a civilian following or public support as we'd thought."
McDermott turned off his datapad and left them in silence for a few minutes. He knew they had to absorb everything he'd just told them. "Well, now that I have you all feeling like Alice in Wonderland, why don't we get to the main point."
"This is it. The word's come down, the votes were passed. We're mounting an offensive. We're heading out and we're going to retake the Mar's system. After that, we're going to sniff out the Fist of Jupiter's base of operations and blow them all to hell. Sheffield's Battle Group Epsilon is going to be the vanguard but we're all going to have parts to play. I'm afraid I can't tell you much more than that except to be ready. Anything more specific than what I've already told you is so classified, less than a dozen people in the Solar System know about it. Get your ships ready and prepared. For anything. We'll be speaking again soon." With that the Admiral stood up and saw them all off.

Sheffield was escorted to a lounge where Baldwin had been sent to. He stood up from a thickly padded couch as soon as he saw his Commanding Officer. "Well?" he asked.
Sheffield shook his head. "I don't think we're in Kansas anymore."
Lieutenant Baldwin's eyebrow arced upward, unfamiliar with the phrase. "We're on the Alamo, sir."
Sheffield laughed. "It's a figure of speech. Let's just say that the rules of the game have changed and we need to play catch-up. And quickly."
Baldwin still looked at him skeptically but Sheffield knew he trusted him. "Whatever you say, sir," he replied, confident he'd get some answers eventually.