Authors note: This is the first story of a planned series entitled 'The Gliese Chronicles' that details some major events of Earth's first intergalactic colony around the star Gliese 687 C, a red dwarf located about 23.6 light years from the solar system in the constellation Scorpius.
THE GLIESE CHRONICLES: BY THE THINNEST OF MARGINS CHAPTER ONE
"Captain, the crew are beginning to wonder if we're ever going to stop practicing this same maneuver over and over again."
Captain Neenah Casperson looked at her First Officer with a frown. "When I think they can do it automatically, do it without thinking, do it when they are so exhausted it doesn't seem to matter anymore."
I knew it had to be that way. Our enemy was seemingly unforgiving, unrelenting, and more than capable of destroying my ship with minimal effort. An enemy that had no face, no form, no culture, and unknown to the human race. At least it seemed that way. They had come from outside the Gliese planetary system--beyond the present limits of human exploration—from the immense expanse of intergalactic space.
My ship was one of the smallest, yet most modern ships in the fleet, actually one of a kind. Designed for stealth and speed while armed with weapons that could disable or destroy a vessel much larger than herself. I thought it ironic, the weapons it carried had been designed for an entirely different purpose—the destruction of asteroids or comets that represented a danger to one of the three inhabited planets of the Gliese system.
The majority of my crew were green, most of them just out of their specialty schools, with no previous combat experience. Not a surprise as our culture had never been at war and this invasion had been short, but deadly. Only my First Officer and Engineering Officer had seen combat before-- though none of them as much experience as myself. I had been as tough on my fellow officers as the rest of my crew of twenty enlisted as we began our first mission. I turned to, Morgan Stanford, my First Officer.
"Secure from general quarters. The bridge is yours, Mr. Stanford."
"Aye captain. The bridge is mine."
I walked aft to my quarters, hearing the announcement to secure from general quarters from the nearest speaker. The crew was improving steadily, almost to the point where I thought we might come out of an engagement alive, with the ship in one piece. I entered my quarters, opened the command console, and reviewed the data showing how quickly the cloaking shield had come down, the weapons aimed, fired, and the shield returned to operation. I smiled—ten seconds. My target was eight seconds. So close, maybe close enough.
I had been amazed I had been given command of this ship, but after a while realized it was because I had been able to survive when others had not. By being both aggressive and cunning, with the right degree of caution thrown in—some said I was a natural-born leader. They were wrong-- I had simply been able to gain enough experience to know my enemy and their tactics well enough to defeat them by surviving. Still, the behavior of the enemy force was bewildering, baffling, and illogical in a way that defied my understanding. Was it a matter of communication—they not understanding our intentions, rather than a desire on their part to be aggressive?
Now, my job was to do the same for my crew, have them survive, while inflicting as much damage to the enemy as possible.
I remembered the meeting that resulted in my promotion to Captain, jumping ahead in the rank structure, and the man most responsible for it. It had been a contentious meeting of the Gliese Federation officials, Space Command officers, and various specialists with expertise in an array of engineering and the physics of energy and inert projectiles. Morgan had been the main driver of my promotion by declining to accept command of the ship I was now responsible for. I had at first been selected to be his First Officer.
The faces of the others in the room were still vivid in my mind when Morgan told them he would not take command of the ship. The room went completely silent, faces with shocked expressions. Then, questions as to why he would not do his duty to protect the citizens of the system were put forth—some with frustration, others with anger. His logic was flawless, even I was amazed as I sat listening. No one was more surprised than me when he was asked who he thought was best qualified to command the ship. He put my name forward.
The enemy, unknown and unseen by me, at least as individuals, had changed everything over the last nine months. After almost seven hundred years of colonization in the Gliese system evidence of an alien civilization had emerged—at first, there was excitement at the prospect of interacting with another life form. Initial contact by a small ship had shown it might be difficult. Then, after another attempt a month later, when several large alien ships were observed, excitement turned to dismay. Again, efforts to make peaceful contact had resulted in the complete destruction of the ship and loss of its crew.
Over the next few weeks several asteroid mining operations were found to have been destroyed—their finished metals missing, with much of their infrastructure taken as well. These mines were located in the asteroid belt beyond the most distant planet in the system. This suggested to me the aliens were in need of mineral resources. But why? They had their ships, if anything it, seemed food or energy would be a greater need and that would mean coming to habitable planets with organic life.
I had felt the loss of the second ship personally as the ship was unarmed-- commanded by a friend. Space Command had no designated warships--there had never been a reason to develop weapons except to intercept rogue asteroids or comets. The recorded verbal messages intercepted by Space Command from the alien ship to ours revealed they had no interest in peaceful coexistence. They wanted resources and expected to get them on their own terms. The message was clear and unambiguous—prepare to defend yourselves or suffer the consequences, or at least it seemed that way.
I sat at my desk and went over those first days again in my mind.
It started over a standard year ago and all of the engagements had occurred beyond the fringes of our planetary system. We all knew it was just a matter of time before our home-worlds would be threatened and offered no mercy. Preparations for defense were hastily mounted. This ship had already been almost two-thirds complete when it was modified for combat missions at my suggestion.
The largest of our ships had been modified with laser cannons modified from their intended purpose of asteroid destruction. These were mounted in fixed positions on the hull and there were only two cannons per ship with a total of four ships. The first engagement seven months ago was hardly an engagement at all-- despite being at relatively long-range. The alien ships had shields that the lasers were unable to penetrate. Once the power supply for the cannons was exhausted by repeated, rapid bursts, the enemy vessels lowered their shield defenses and counter attacked with powerful lasers of their own. Destroying each ship in turn as the shields weakened under the onslaught.
There were but three survivors of that engagement, they had been able to dive into a small escape capsule as the ship disintegrated around them. They remained hidden in the debris field for two standard days before sending a distress signal to be rescued as smaller alien ships collected scattered pieces of wreckage. Three survived out of a crew of two hundred five, the news devastated the home-worlds, and near panic ensued as the details were released to the public.
I was present at the third engagement of our two medium-sized ships, modified from freighters-- their cargo holds filled with energy generators linked to a single cannon slung on the underside of each ship. Like all of our ships, a force-field protected the ships from solid debris, but not from energy pulses. A jury-rigged system for protection from laser fire was installed on an experimental basis in the hopes it would afford some protection- the system worked on the ship I was aboard and failed on the other. The other ship was lost with all hands; at least the jury-rigged system had allowed for visual operations at a closer range offering an opportunity to observe the enemy vessels.
The engagement also involved smaller ships with the hope they would be able to make strafing attacks. These five smaller ships engaged in the battle early and all were lost within minutes. It had been terrible to watch as each disintegrated in a bright flash.
I cringed as the images entered my mind-- streaks of laser fire, bright flashes as engines exploded, pieces of ships scattering in all directions. We had finally been able to inflict indirect damage on the enemy--pieces of our destroyed ships penetrated their shields-- striking their ship.
The ship I was on took damage, returned fire, and then fled as the captain realized it was better to gather intelligence from the encounter rather than perish like the others. It turned out to have been a wise decision as we still knew almost nothing about their capabilities. All we knew at that time was we were losing ground rapidly. I was brought back to the moment by a voice.
"Captain, a message from Space Command. It's encrypted, for your eyes only."
"Thank you, Parsons."
I watched as the young woman left wondering if she would live to be my age-- twenty-seven standard years. It seemed unlikely. I strode to my console, entered my security code, then another code to authenticate receipt of the message. I read the message and felt my stomach churn. Battle orders. I had two standard days before engaging the alien fleet.
