Cornerstone, p.1
Cornerstone, page 1
CORNERSTONE
SINGULARITIES BOOK 1
ANTHONY JAMES
CONTENTS
Renar-2
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
New Beginnings, Perhaps
Also by Anthony James
© 2022 Anthony James
All rights reserved
The right of Anthony James to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted by him in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act, 1988
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher's prior consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed upon the subsequent purchaser
Illustration © Tom Edwards
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RENAR-2
With a deep rumble of propulsion, the Carbine class Light Attack Vessel, Gallivant, exited lightspeed after a two-day journey through the great void. On the bridge, Captain William Lanson scanned the status readouts on his command console and noted that the warship had completed its transit without sign of hardware failure.
“Sensors coming up,” said Lieutenant Becky Turner, the Gallivant’s senior comms and sensor officer.
“As soon as they’re online, run the scans,” said Lanson. A warship always emerged from lightspeed at zero velocity, so he pushed the horizontal control bars along their guide slots. The volume of the Gallivant’s Rodos drive climbed to a thunder as the vessel accelerated blind. “And then obtain a lock on Renar-2.”
“Yes, sir. Sensors online,” confirmed Turner. “Running a local area sweep.”
“I’m scanning for the planet,” said Lieutenant Fay Perry, the backup sensor officer.
Lanson waited impatiently for the outcome of the sweeps. Now the feeds were up, he could see the space outside. That space was all darkness and faraway stars.
“The local area sweep is finished, Captain,” said Turner. “No Sagh’eld vessels detected.”
“Renar-2 is on the forward feed,” said Perry. “Range: fifty thousand klicks.”
Lanson stared at the feed on his console screen. Renar-2 wasn’t much to look at – most planets weren’t – being little more than a grey sphere wrapped in dense, radiation-saturated clouds. Here and there, rugged mountains were visible, their harsh edges blurred by distance and interference. Aside from that, Lanson saw hints of canyons and rocky plains.
“Remind me why we came here,” said the Gallivant’s senior propulsion officer, Lieutenant Gus Abrams.
Now that the local area scans were complete, Lanson relaxed a little. He pulled the control bars towards him and the velocity gauge tumbled until it was showing forty kilometres per second.
Abrams didn’t really need a reminder, but Lanson humoured him anyway. “This place is high up on the mesh list. Don’t ask me why.”
He accessed the Gallivant’s strategic mesh list, which contained several hundred entries, and stared at it for a moment, lost in thought. The Human Confederation was fighting – and losing – a shitty war with a species of technologically advanced aliens known as the Sagh’eld. War across infinite distances carried many challenges - the travel time of a comm and the duration of many lightspeed journeys made it difficult to ensure a warship was in the right place at the right time.
When updated orders arrived, they might no longer be relevant, the target already destroyed, or one of a thousand other reasons that might mean an asset was no longer required at the destination.
Therefore, a warship’s commanding officer was provided with a list of destinations and given a high level of autonomy over where to go and when. The Human Confederation war fleet numbered in the hundreds, so the idea was to create a mesh where each vessel had the highest possible chance of being in the right place at the right time.
Lanson knew exactly how much computational power went into generating that mesh and how many of humanity’s best minds were employed in the task of figuring out what data to input into those computers. He was all in favour of the method, but it wasn’t proving efficient enough to combat the Sagh’eld’s technological advantages.
Naturally, direct orders could still arrive at any time, and that was what kept things interesting, though not necessarily in a good way.
“We’re going to run some scans, check to make sure the planet’s inhabitants aren’t killing each other, and then we’re leaving,” said Commander Ellie Matlock, from the station on Lanson’s right.
“Four thousand inhabitants at last count,” said Perry.
Lanson had read the files on Renar-2 several times already. The people living here were a bunch of prospectors who’d scraped together the funds to buy a few radiation-shielded accommodation prefabs, and the equipment to set up a small-scale mining operation. Certainly, the miners were of no interest to the Sagh’eld, but rare ores were a different matter.
“The last reported position of the mining operation was on the planet’s visible side, and in the far north,” said Turner. “The radiation and the other toxins in those clouds are screwing with our sensors, so we’ll have to travel in close if you want a visual, sir.”
“Try the comms first,” said Lanson. Already he wanted to be away from here. “See if anyone answers.”
“Running a comms receptor sweep,” said Turner. “No receptors found.”
“The mining operation only has access to civilian comms equipment, sir,” said Perry. “They can’t hide their receptor from us.”
“Damnit,” said Lanson sourly. “According to the records, the prospecting hardware is fully mobile – the miners could have moved on from their last known position.”
“Or something else could have happened,” said Matlock.
Lanson nodded. “Either way, we need to find out.”
He cursed inwardly at the thought of running low-altitude circuits of Renar-2 in the hunt for the mining operation. It was possible the sensors would be able to pierce the clouds once the Gallivant was closer, but judging from their composition, the warship would need to be beneath them in order to obtain a clear view of the surface.
“If the Sagh’eld did decide to pay this place a visit, let’s hope they didn’t commit anything more potent than an Evus LAV,” said Matlock.
“And if they did come here, let’s hope they’re gone,” said Lieutenant Joe Massey, the warship’s backup propulsion officer.
“Yeah,” said Lanson, his mood becoming foul.
An Evus was the smallest and least capable of the Sagh’eld’s frontline warships, but even so, they were, in most engagements, more than a match for a Carbine class. While Lanson considered himself a skilled pilot, and while he had no doubts about the competence of his crew, he didn’t want to run into any Sagh’eld warships way out here on the fringes of human-claimed territory. A Carbine was best utilised in group combat, since it was lacking in one-on-one situations.
I’m just a glorified damn scout.
The thought made Lanson scowl and he felt his anger growing. Next time he returned to base, he’d push for a command elevation to something with more firepower than a Carbine.
“Let’s get this done,” said Lanson. “We’ll approach to ten thousand klicks and run a sensor sweep on the last known position of the mining operation. If that fails, I’ll take us below the clouds and begin circuits.” He half-turned in his seat. The bridge was a compact, trapezoidal space, with barely enough room to stand. “And I know we’ve already talked about this folks, but there’s a real possibility we’re going to run into trouble.”
Lanson requested power from the Rodos drive and the velocity gauge climbed steadily to the warship’s maximum of two hundred kilometres per second. With that achieved, he allowed the engine power output to fall off and the warship continued coasting through the vacuum at the same velocity.
When the Gallivant was nearing Lanson’s chosen distance of ten thousand kilometres, he hauled back on the controls and the warship decelerated. When the velocity gauge displayed ten kilometres per second, he levelled out and set the vessel on a large-diameter circular course, directly over the last-known position of the prospecting operation.
The view on the feeds didn’t give him much hope – the clouds were darker than any Lanson had seen before and they swirled lazily across the northern area of the planet without any breaks.
“Run those scans, Lieutenant Turner.”
“Yes, sir. First indications aren’t good.”
“Lieutenant Perry – keep a close watch for hostiles.”
“Yes, sir.”
Turner admitted defeat less than twenty seconds later. “There’s too much crap in the planet’s atmosphere,” she said. “I’m not able to gather any useful data.”
“In that case, we’ll have to reposition,” said Lanson. “Do you have any idea how close to the surface I’ll need to take us?”
“No, sir. I’d guess at less than five thousand metres.”
“Five thousand metres it is,” said Lanson. “Unless we hit a pocket of clear air higher up.”
He guided the Gallivant once more towards the planet, this time keeping a steady velocity. Viewed from an altitude of twenty-five thousand metres, the clouds were a blanket of grey that stretched to every horizon, swirling and drifting in a way reminiscent of a deep, treacherous ocean.
At twenty-three thousand metres, the warship entered the clouds. Soon, the sensor feeds were showing nothing but grey. It was raining outside and the droplets pelted against the Gallivant’s armour.
“Altitude: fifteen thousand metres,” said Turner.
“Are we close enough to run a surface scan?” asked Lanson.
“No, sir.”
Under Lanson’s control, the warship continued its descent. At eight thousand metres, there was still no sign of the clouds thinning and he asked Turner again about running a surface scan. Once more, she wasn’t hopeful of a positive outcome.
At four thousand metres, the Gallivant emerged from the thickest of the cloud cover. Immediately, the sensors began gathering a useful feed of the surface below. Lanson squinted at his screen. A huge, rain-pelted mountain range ran north to south directly below, though he couldn’t make out any sign of the planet’s inhabitants.
“Hold steady, Captain,” said Turner. “If there was a mining operation here, I should be able to detect signs of it.” The finding didn’t take long. “There! On the western edge of the mountain range!”
Lanson banked the Gallivant that way. He could see the area which had caught Turner’s attention – a series of fifty-metre-diameter holes had been created where a valley ran between two of the mountains. Bringing the warship to a halt directly overhead, he peered at the feed. The prospectors had been here, but they’d moved on and left none of their equipment behind.
“I guess this means we’re running circuits,” said Lanson. “Lieutenant Turner, add an overlay to the tactical – I want to follow the quickest route to get this done.”
“Captain, I’ve spotted something,” said Perry. “Zooming the feed.”
“Well I’ll be,” said Lanson, as he looked at the object Perry had located. “A gravity truck.”
“Yes, sir, and it’s directly east of the previously-known position of the mining operation.”
“That truck must have broken down,” said Lanson. He smiled thinly. “East it is.”
Holding the Gallivant at the same altitude, Lanson piloted it east. Several minutes went by and the terrain below changed to undulating plains of the same grey as everywhere else. The rain hadn’t let up and rivers of toxic water rushed along thousands of gullies in the stone.
“There’s something on the horizon, Captain,” said Lieutenant Turner. “I think it’s the prospectors.”
Lanson didn’t increase the warship’s velocity and he waited impatiently for the sensor feeds to improve. He swore at the sights ahead of him.
“Everything’s wrecked.”
The mining operation had consisted of several huge surface dredgers, along with ore lifters, a fifty-metre particle beam generator and mobile accommodation blocks. All of it had been turned into debris. Craters littered the surface and the stone was blackened in numerous places from plasma heat.
“A missile attack,” said Matlock. “The Sagh’eld left nothing alive.”
Lanson stared angrily at the remains. The prospectors weren’t a threat to anyone, and yet they’d been murdered on this godforsaken planet, far from their homes.
It was proof, if any were needed, that the two sides in this war were fighting with different rules.
ONE
“Let’s head up into the clouds,” said Lanson. “In case the enemy warship is still in the vicinity.”
“I’d estimate this attack took place more than a week ago, sir,” said Turner. “I doubt the Sagh’eld stuck around.”
“Even so, I’m not taking chances,” said Lanson.
He brought the Gallivant vertically away from the surface. At six thousand metres, he reduced the warship’s velocity to zero. From this altitude, the plain below was only just visible, though the details were hidden by the clouds.
Lanson grimaced in sudden realisation. “We should scan the remains to see if we can discover any clues about the type of vessel responsible for this attack. It’ll help the military build a picture of what kind of resources the Sagh’eld have operating in this sector.”
Although he wanted to be away from Renar-2, Lanson knew that if he left now, he’d have only done a half-assed job. His sense of duty wouldn’t let him leave.
“I’ll position us over the attack site and reduce altitude until we have a clear sensor feed,” he said. “Lieutenant Turner, you’ll only need top-down visibility for a couple of seconds, right?”
“That’s right, Captain. There’s a chance we’ll need a sensor view from some different angles, but I’m hoping we’ll be fine with just the overhead feed.”
Lanson repositioned the warship, while keeping it within the clouds. When the Gallivant was directly over the attack site, he reduced altitude quickly down to four thousand metres.
“Enough?” he asked.
“Yes, sir, that’s enough,” said Turner.
The moment he received the confirmation, Lanson increased altitude. The Rodos drive grumbled, and the warship ascended once more into the clouds.
“Do you want me to take a look at the feed recording immediately, Captain?” asked Turner.
“Negative – transmit the data to base. We’re getting out of here. You can study the feeds once we’re far away from this damn place.”
As he spoke the words, Lanson spotted movement on the feeds. An object slid by somewhere to the west before it was once more obscured by the clouds and the rain.
Lanson swore. The Human Confederation military had nothing in this area of space, and that left only one possibility. “A Sagh’eld warship,” he snarled. “Those assholes didn’t leave after all.”
“I didn’t catch enough of a reading to determine what it was, Captain,” said Turner. “It could have been an Evus, but equally it could have been—”
“Something much worse,” said Lanson.
“The enemy vessel was travelling southwest, Captain,” said Perry. “It may be that we escaped notice.”
Lanson gritted his teeth. Perry could be right, but it was all down to guesswork. Lanson’s grip was tight on the controls and he wanted, more than anything, to pick a direction at random and pilot the Gallivant away from here. On the other hand, the enemy sensors might then pick up the increased sound signature of the warship’s Rodos drive, or they might detect the disturbance in the clouds.
“Commander Matlock, set the hull repeaters to automatic track and destroy, for all the good it’ll do in these clouds.”
“Yes, sir. Hull repeaters set to fully automatic. Our Fury clusters are loaded and ready – should I launch on sight?”
“Yes, fire as soon as you have a target, Commander.”
Standing still was rarely the best option, so Lanson fed power into the Gallivant’s engines and aimed it northeast. The altitude and velocity readings both climbed steadily. At ten thousand metres, he levelled out, and altered course so the warship was heading directly north.
“If the enemy warship detected us, we’d know about it by now,” said Perry. “Surely.”
