Part 3: Second Contact

Eight Hundred and Twenty Fifth Year of the Exodus, Zeroith Year of the Splintering

Eight Hundred and Twenty Fifth Year After the Battle of the Sol System

Every human in the TRAPPIST-1 system was watching the small test ship Sunstreak. It sat at one edge of the system, its inertialess Black Hole Drive online and waiting. The countdown ticked to zero, the Sunstreak brought its other propulsion system online, and promptly vanished from every sensor.

Officially called a Distortion Thruster Assembly (DTA), it was known colloquially as an Alcubierre Drive. Like the hypothetical drive from which it drew its name, it worked by using gravity fields to distort space-time around the ship. Unlike that hypothetical drive it did not break the bonds of time. Travel still took time and it was not possible to arrive before you departed.

According to all of the mathematics, studies, and computer modeling, the DTA drive would function and the Sunstreak would cross the TRAPPIST-1 system in less than three hundredths of a second. Physically, the Sunstreak mounted the first ever DTA drive that humanity had ever built, and it was utterly unknown whether it would function properly or not.

The Sunstreak reappeared just as abruptly as it had vanished. There was no eruption of light or radiation, just the faint gravity distortion of its Black Hole Drive coming online to shed the last of her speed.

“Sunstreak to all points. Test complete. DTA drive functioning within expected parameters. The stars are within our reach.”

Abby Bain sat back in her chair and stared at the recordings of the Sunstreak’s historic flight. The Void Guard had really done it. They had created a FTL drive. A scouting ship really could be sent back to the Sol system. They might finally be able to know what had happened to Earth.

Abby found that she did not care all that much. She was responsible for the development of all of the human colonies in the TRAPPIST-1 system, both planetbound and on orbital habitats. She did not have a family of her own, but almost every one of her subordinates and staffers did. They had new lives here, new responsibilities that they had settled into over the last fifteen years.

Abby did not want humanity to go back to the Sol system. They had a perfectly good, if rather cramped, system here in TRAPPIST-1. Why should humans move back to a dying world in a dying system, just because it was where they had come from once upon a time?

Admiral Supesu smiled down at the Sunstreak test results. Commodore Agins’ DTA drive had worked precisely as the calculations had said that it would. And by those same calculations, the Sunstreak could make the trip to the Sol system and back in at little a seven days. That was an effective velocity of just under four thousand one hundred times the speed of light.

In the Sunstreak, he had a spaceship that could finally learn what had happened to humanity in the Sol system in the last eight hundred years. And if needed, he had the shipyards and the technology to build a fleet that could deliver retribution onto the Twisted.

Admiral Supesu signed the orders for Sunstreak to make the trip to the Sol system, a mission of recognisance only, and to report back. He hoped they found the Sol system empty of hostile forces. He issued contingency orders anyway.

Flight Instructor Donn MacBrash smiled at the young student as she studied the plans of the Sunstreak with focused intent.

“What do you think of her Cadet Supesu?”

“I think that I would like to know more about her DTA drive before I put my hands to her helm in real life. That being said, this new Black Hole Drive configuration has been wonderful in the simulators.”

“That is good to hear because, just between you, me, and the bulkhead, you might be serving on a Black Hole Drive equipped ship soon enough.”

“Really? My posting request was approved?”

“Well, nothing so definitive, no. On the other hand, I’m a bit tapped into the grapevine. You did request a posting to one of the Experimental Squadrons, and given your well deserved marks, it’s probably going to be approved. The only question is which one. The Sunstreak is going to be the most contested, second only to the Solar Wind.”

“The Solar Wind? The Admiral is approved the completion of her construction?”

“Of course he did Cadet! With the new drives, the Solar Wind will be able to reach any system we can see in a few weeks, months at most.”

“Hmm, and that will reduce the consumables storage and hydroponics bay requirements by quite a bit. I wonder what Commodore Asgir will put in those spaces…?”

“Well, you will find out in a few weeks Cadet, right after graduation.”

Kynttilan’Liekki Laiska’Vanha’Verta stared at his visual display in rapt attention. The gravity engines had been installed last Crown World Orbit, and were about to be activated. The mining ships stood ready to catch the first waves of ‘waste’ rock to be tossed into orbit. The reclamation forges were ready to liquify that rock down and claim all of the minerals that they could gather. The Fleet hovered in a protective rink, ready to intercept any stray debris.

And here Laiska’Vanha’Verta sat, observer to it all. Official recordings were being made, Fleet and Bureaucrat alike, but he was making his own recording too. Mostly for his personal collection, but also so that he could watch it again later and revel in this display of the Empire’s power.

The Sunstreak dropped back to slower than light speeds at the very fringes of the Sol system. Her crew immediately shifted vectors and dropped into orbit around the Sun outside of Pluto’s orbit. It was a very conservative orbit, but their passive sensors would pick up everything in the Sol system in a few hours. From there they could decide to move into the Sol system or return from whence they came, hopefully undetected.

Almost instantly, their sensors picked up massive gravitic energies coming from the vicinity of Earth.

Kynttilan’Liekki Laiska’Vanha’Verta frowned as his Beacon’s active scopes picked up a scope ghost, then promptly classified it as a false echo and removed it. He made a mental note to request the refurbishment or replacement of his outermost Beacons. This was not the first such false trace that they had reported, and each time the Fleet had wasted the time and efforts of a frigate squadron chasing it down. With the momentous events occuring this Crown World Orbit, Laiska’Vanha’Verta went ahead and squashed the signal before the frigates were dispatched. He reckoned that they either had more important tasks to perform, or would enjoy having some rest time to watch the skinning of the third world of the Toinen’Maailma system.

The Sunstreak’s sensors were reporting plenty of data, including the massive concentration of ships around Earth and the titanic gravitic energies radiating from her surface. They also noted the total absence of any human signals. The commander of the Sunstreak had the experimental human-Twisted communicator brough online in an attempt to decipher the signals that they were receiving. Much of the transmissions’ context was lost in the translation, but the pompous officiality of the occasion was beyond doubt. The presence of a large number of military ships in Earth orbit could not be denied.

The first mountain sized pieces of planetary crust were heaved into orbit. The molten glow of magma radiated dimly into space, illuminating the actions of the mining ships. The Sunstreak watched in helpless horror as Earth was torn open and fed into refineries and processing plants piece by piece. The sensors reported the massive shipyard in orbit around the Earth, the final destination of so much of the refined materials coming from the destruction of humanity’s birthworld.

“Captain, Tracking. I think we are witnessing a planet crack mining operation in progress.”

“Understood Tracking. Do you have any trace of human habitation in the system?”

“Captain, Tracking. Negative on traces of humanity Sir. The furthest human outpost in this system would be the Pluto Research Base, if it is still there.”

“Helm, set a course for Pluto. The Far Strider was not able to catch the end of the Battle for Earth. It looks like humanity lost, but I’d like to have firm proof to take back to the Admiral.”

“Captain, Helm. Aye aye Sir.”

The Pluto Research Base had only ever had a crew of robots on account of the dwarf planet’s extreme cold temperatures and nearly nonexistent nitrogen methane atmosphere. But it had served as a repository of human knowledge, just in case.

The Sunstreak arrived without fanfare, and dropped into low orbit. Not made with planetary landings in mind, she carried a pair of shuttles and half a dozen environmental suits. The base showed heavy external damage and no power signatures, so volunteers were called for. Six volunteers entered the base, unsure of what they would find.

What they found was dead human bodies in environmental suits and more expended gyrojet ammunition then they could count by hand. They gathered what dog tags and identification papers they could find, along with every single helmet camera, tablet, and data storage device they could carry. The batteries were long dead, but the remains of the base may just have preserved some vital traces of data. That done, they withdrew to the Sunstreak, which departed for the TRAPPIST-1 system with even less fanfare then it had arrived.