Fifth Year of the Nomads

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

Polo’Liekki Laiska’Vanha’Verta sat in his ‘work’ office in the Vanha’Verta estate on Salama’Maa in the Toinen’Maailma system. He had been transferred back to the Toinen’Maailma system almost as soon as the relic on his desk had been found. Ostensibly, he was assigned to the Ship Museum Project and in charge of getting CAG Viimein’Laiva’Elossa in a condition suitable for display to the public. In actuality, he was assigned to the Fleet Archive and tasked with opening up the relic. To that end, he had requisitioned the historian Kertomus'Kielen’Sanahaku for his insight into old Empire technology.

Kertomus'Kielen’Sanahaku sat on the other side of the desk, arms moving slowly and graspers tapping delicately. It had taken over thirty Crown World Orbits for Kertomus'Kielen’Sanahaku to come up with a connector that would let the relic of a data vault connect to a modern terminal. It had taken Laiska’Vanha’Verta nearly that long to get access to the old Fleet security programs and codes. He found it ironic that the only place where they could be found was in the Fleet Archive itself. Laiska’Vanha’Verta was also equipped with a pair of old Fleet Archive files. One simply named EVV Known Passwords, which he presumed related to his ancestor Ensimmainen’Vanha’Verta, and another marked TKS Personal Log. some small research had shown this was in reference to Taivutus’Kielen’Sanahaku, the first Fleet Archivist and Kertomus'Kielen’Sanahaku’s ancestor. Laiska’Vanha’Verta could only twist his head at the irony of the situation. Two middle aged sapients attempting to decipher the workings of their ancient ancestors.

Kertomus'Kielen’Sanahaku tapped a final command and stood back, “that does it Polo’Liekki. The 453 is connected and ready, the old Fleet security programs have opened it up, and it’s asking for a password. No user id code, just a password.”

Laiska’Vanha’Verta hissed in frustration, “I have two files of what might be passwords, but no way of knowing which one it is. Do we just guess?”

Kertomus'Kielen’Sanahaku rapped his graspers on the table, “we could, but we should try to make a smart guess. Are there any passwords that show up frequently? Any that date to shortly before Ensimmainen’Vanha’Verta headed out for the last time?”

“Nothing that I am seeing. I wonder if the two shared any passwords?”

“It is worth a check, but I would not expect it.”

“There is one match on the lists, or rather a close near-match. Try either ‘Laatikko’Avaa’ or ‘Laatikko_Avaa’.”

Kertomus'Kielen’Sanahaku tapped his graspers on the terminal keypad, twisted his head, tapped again, twisted again, tapped a third time, and punched a grasper into the air. “Got it. The password was ‘Avaa_Laatikko’. Felt odd that they would both use a passphrase that was backwards of how it would be spoken, so I tried that. Now let us see here. Three folders it looks like. Raw scopes data, tactical display, and log backups. Where do you want to start?”

“I’m guessing that the first two are just raw input, and I believe that we would need the matching programs to display that?”

“Almost certainly. That leaves the log backups.”

“Last entry would probably be good to check.”

“Alright, here it is. One moment while the writing program opens it up… got it. On the terminal now. While you read that, I’m going to start the backup process. 453s may live for damn near forever but this one has been through hell so I don’t know if it will ever switch back on once we shut it down.”

Laiska’Vanha’Verta bobbed his head, not really understanding what KKS was on about, and scrolled the terminal window down to read the last log entry.

‘Log Begins.

‘Date: Uncertain. Ship power depleted, ship chronometers no longer functional.

‘Location: Unknown system, surface of the seventh world from primary star, star chart reference 7Y4S 6216149 1077668.

‘Status: beyond the reach of the light.

‘The ship’s reactor ran out of fuel a few Kymme ago. Possibly a Crown World Orbit or two by now. Terminal is on last gasp of life, batteries running down. Must make log entry brief.

‘Shipkeepers found the cause of the fault in new gravity drive. Programming error. Ship would not slow down enough when leaving FTL speeds, leading ship to ram into stellar masses. Sabotage suspected.

‘Without power life support is non functional. Atmosphere slowly leaking from rents in hull. Cryostorage nonfunctional, preserved food is now rotting. Liquid consumables are starting to freeze.

‘Many of the crew have chosen to embrace the final sleep by over consuming sleep or pain medications. Unsure if I will follow.

‘Log ends.’

Laiska’Vanha’Verta sat back in his chair and stared at the terminal. CAG Viimein’Laiva’Elossa. Saobaged. His own command, the BCG Viimein’Laiva’Elossa, surviving by a thread, only the weight of the Vanha’Verta clan name saving her from being condemned to the breakers. His recall to the Fleet base in the Toinen’Maailma system, his assignment and cover assignment. Laiska’Vanha’Verta’s relatives always butting heads with the Empire’s Beuracracy.

The reason the Fleet Archives were so well hidden, and so thoroughly secured, began to become clear to Laiska’Vanha’Verta. The Bureaucracy considered itself the true masters of the Empire, and the Emperor and the Politicians as their puppets. But the Fleet still swore their oaths directly to the crown and the Law, not to paper-pushers, and the Vanha’Verta clan was always a Fleet clan.

So if push came to shove, as it often did in the Empire, and the Politicians could not control a crisis, the Emperor might actually move to reclaim the powers that the Law said he had but that custom denied him the usage of. Such as being the head of the government in fact as well as in name. If the Politicians resisted, as they would to protect their own power, and that of their puppet masters the Bureaucrats, the Emperor would call upon the Fleet to support himself as he had the right to do so under the Law. And when that happened, it would come down to how the Sapients in charge of the Fleet reacted. The Valo’Haltija was a Vanha’Verta and the Emperor’s sapient, as were many of the Kokko’Liekki and Polo’Liekki. Were the Emperor to face down the Politicians and if the Fleet sided with the Emperor, then the Bureaucrats would be out of power.

And the Bureaucrats would hate that. So quite naturally, they would have tried to sweep any achievements made by the Fleet, and especially by a Vanha’Verta, out of sight in order to keep their power and prestige. After all, anything that improved the standing of the Fleet could only come at the expense of the Bureaucrats and their standing.

The Fleet’s actions indicated that they were aware of this. They had moved him to a public assignment (restoring the CAG Viimein’Laiva’Elossa) that the Bureaucrats could not object to, and at the same time had put him in a location that was secure against attacks. After all, if the Bureaucrats were callous enough to destroy an entire CAG and her crew to cover up one unfortunate story, then they could easily clean up a second one. He had already seen it in action: the Bureaucrats had stolen his Titan kill.

But there had been Titan two, back in the Kuud’Estoista’Maailma system. It had made that one transmission, telling Laiska’Vanha’Verta to beware, and then gone to FTL speeds. Where it had ended up, and what was inside its hull, nobody knew. Laiska’Vanha’Verta suddenly had a sinking suspicion that his life was going to become rather complicated in the next few dozen Crown World Orbits, what with avoiding the Bureaucrats and Titan two lurking in the wings. Waiting to cause a crisis the likes of which the Empire had never seen before. Laiska’Vanha’Verta could only think of two other times when the Empire had faced serious opponent with a void capable fleet. The Battle against the Fanatical Purifiers of the Toinen’Maailma system, where there was fragmentary evidence, only present in the Fleet Archive, that the Fanatical Purifiers had launched a Titan-class ship that had gone missing. And again at the Battle of the Kuud’Estoista’Maailma system, where one Titan had been slain and a second one had fled.

Laiska’Vanha’Verta pressed his grasper to his eyes as an utterly terrifying though stuck him. What if the Fanatical Purifiers and the Kuud’Estoista’Maailma ‘locals’ were in fact the same species?

Admiral Supesu stared at the two ships as they loped back into the system from their pre-acceptance trials. The Yurt was the first ship of the Tent class of hydroponics and accommodations ships that would make up the Provisioner branch. With a total crew compliment of ten thousand people, they were enormous cylinders packed to the brim with people and food production. Each Tent class ship was capable of feeding thirty thousand people in addition to their own crew, and as many as sixty thousand at subsistence rationing levels. The Vanguard was the first of the Hunter class frigates that would serve as the Protector branch’s long-range scouts and outer pickets. She was not very large, nor particularly heavily armed. After all, the extra rations had to fit somewhere. The Hunter class did have two things going for it: an impressive passive sensor suite, and their size. Hunters were small enough to be built onboard the Solar Wind, requiring no external scaffolding or other semi-permanent constructs.

The Vanguard had been built both as a test of the Hunter class ship design, but also as a test of the Solar Wind’s own production facilities. Everything on and aboard the Vanguard had been made aboard the Solar Wind. Raw materials brought in by mining craft had been smelted down, refined, cast, machined, and assembled into the final ship.

“Solar Wind Actual,Yurt Actual. Pre-acceptance trails complete. We have some small issues, but nothing the engineers can’t fix in a few hours.”

“Yurt Actual, Solar Wind Actual. Good to hear! I think they are waiting for you at the Scaffolds, so I’ll leave you to it. Out”

“Solar Wind Actual, Vanguard Actual. Pre-acceptance trials complete. All systems green, all inspections passed. We are no longer sheep in the pasture.”

“Vanguard Actual, Solar Wind Actual. Once the Hawkwing class ships start coming online, perhaps. Out.”

Admiral Supesu turned to look at the Scaffolds. The Solar Wind was free of hers, but ten other ships were under construction. Eight more Tent class ships for the Provisioner branch, and two of the Hawkwing class Carriers. Humanity had learned from its wet-navy past, blue and brown water both, and decided to skip over the entire idea of Battleships in favor of going directly to Carriers.

With a limited pool of manpower and high levels of automation, a single Hawkwing could launch a full one hundred and forty four strong wing of strike craft with a crew of just over three thousand five hundred people, counting the crews of all of the ships in one big lump. The Hawkwing itself would only have a small number of long-ranged missile tubes for offensive weapons, but with rotating launch cells and onboard missile and strike craft construction facilities, a Hawkwing could reload itself in the field with only minimal support form the Producer branch. The strike craft themselves were still on the design board, but each was projected to have as much firepower as the old Isoroku class of ships her grandfather had used at the Battle of the Sol system. Compromises had been made to cram all of that firepower into such a small hull, such as having a crew of only eight humans and enough life support for no more than two weeks of independent operations.

Admiral Supesu grinned and stretched, popping her neck. Another year and the Hawkwing class CVs would be ready. Three years after that, and the Twisted Empire was going to get a nasty surprise.