Year 0: Obinna I
Thuktun F
You can complain now; I'm no longer a councilor
- Location
- United States
For a second time, work brings me to Amadioha-1, the main space station of the UWAS. Unlike before, however, the station serves not as a stopping point, but as the location of my prospective interview.
The station is far less crowded than the previous time. As the Colonization Fleet approaches, non-vital space traffic has gradually been brought to a halt, and Amadioha-1 now fulfills its secondary purpose- as a TGDF observation base. Rather than the usual throng of civilian contractors and tourists, I see scientists and TGDF members floating down the hallways.
Lieutenant Chinua Obinna greets me in the CIC of the station. Gaunt, almost skeletal, he nevertheless proves a lively individual as he gestures about the heart of Amadioha-1.
Q: Thank you for agreeing to talk to me, Lieutenant.
A: It's no problem. I know a lot of the older officers tend to be wary of journalists, but I think it's good to embrace our transparency policy. People need to be able to trust those in power, and times like these matter the most.
Q: I agree wholeheartedly. Now, let's get to the subject at hand. At what point were the procedures regarding the Colonization Fleet solidified?
A: A lot later than most people would think. It wasn't just because people were arguing about what to do, though I've heard there's was... is... a lot of arguing. It's mainly that our procedures are heavily reliant on available resources and technology, and that changes a lot more quickly than it does in other spheres. Fifteen years ago, we had fewer ships, fewer weapons... fewer everything. And the equipment we did have was of considerably lower performance.
Trust me, I know. I can still remember the freaky rattling the walls of our old tugs made when we turned the engines on. Nothing quite makes your testicles go up into your chest like feeling the fragile tin can, the only thing keeping you safe from dying a horrible and lonely death in the unforgiving vacuum of space, rattle like an old bus.
The biggest changes, I feel, came with the Homeward Bound project. The breakthroughs in engine technology meant that we could have warships capable of engaging in deep-space interception with the Fleet, and the laser we developed to push the Ramesses provided a comfortable buffer.
Q: A comfortable buffer?
A: Let me rephrase that. From the beginning, it was decided that regardless of what we did... do with the Fleet, we weren't simply going to destroy it. In case you forgot, that was, you know, a pretty big deal? Clinching the Schism and Armistice kinda big?
Still, we're kinda paranoid. It's our job. If someone in the Fleet got a whiff of the impactors used in the war, or just went bugfuck nuts hearing of what happened, and decided to accelerate... well, even blowing up the ship could mean there'd still be relativistic shrapnel heading to Earth. The laser provides a means of ablating the shrapnel away from the planet, in case of that nightmare scenario.
Q: How concerned were you of a relativistic strike from the Fleet?
A: Me? Not very. It's not just a civilian fleet, it's a Race civilian fleet. They had these kind of ships for millennia, and yet even their military forces didn't think of weaponizing them until they were exposed directly to such ideas. Meanwhile, we had sci-fi authors writing about the idea decades before we even made a fusion drive.
Command, however, is paranoid. Again, our job. We actually did drills on what would happen if the Fleet didn't decelerate, and instead started heading our way with intent to wipe out the planet.
He looks around, then leans in, as if worried about being overheard.
I know we're meant to be very transparent, but I also know that a lot of the brass probably wouldn't like me telling you this. Basically, the laser probably wouldn't be able to ablate all of the debris if a few starships decided to martyr themselves. Even a hunk of steel the size of your fist could pancake Lagos. One ship hitting us could have, like, thirty times the energy of Footfall.
If that's the case, then our fleet would be ordered to regroup at our bases on the other planets within the few years we'd have left. Some would try to help set up shop, preparing as large and as self-sufficient a colony as you can.
The rest... well, let's just say we'd use the laser to pay back the favor.
Q: How serious were these considerations?
A: Like I said, it was mainly just a scary thought exercise. And besides, it's no longer relevant. The Fleet decelerated, and it's too close to begin a proper acceleration. Of course, when I mean "close", I mean "they're passing the orbit of Neptune". That isn't stopping our fleet from intercepting them, though.
I don't know if proper communications have begun, since they might not have woken up yet. But you don't need to hear it from them to know that our situation's going to be a bit complicated.
Q: In what regard?
A: Interstellar travel definitely isn't as simple as point and go. Here, lemme show you.
He floats over to the control panel, and pulls up an image on one of the larger screens. In the picture, I can see a tight cluster of silvery objects, consisting of massive spheres with bullet-shaped bodies trailing behind, looking as though they are standing on pillars of flame.
Q: Is that the Colonization Fleet?
A: No, it's my gourd collection.
Laughs.
Joking aside, that's indeed the Fleet. This image is a composite, made of images taken by a few flybys we did and our Kuiper listening posts. The resolution on these photos are astounding- just five years ago these probably wouldn't have been possible.
Q: They look quite different from the Conquest Fleet ships.
A: It's the fuel tanks. Race ships have an absurd efficiency when it comes to fusion, which is always something that messes with my head when I think about how they still used floppy disks for a lot of stuff, but to get to that cruise velocity they still need a considerable fuel to mass ratio. The Conquest Fleet discarded them as they came in, which is why when they land they just look like bullets.
Not just fuel tanks, however. They also serve as protection from debris and radiation, along with the Whipple shielding and a beryllium coating that kinda goes over the bulbous part like an eggshell. They actually look a lot like the...
He grins and waggles his eyebrows.
Eggman starships?
Q: Enzmann starships, actually.
He frowns.
A: Damn. I thought I had a good joke there. In all due seriousness, though, the tanks demonstrate the issues at hand. Look at them.
He zooms in on one of the starships, pointing with a long finger to the fuel tank. Though slightly grainy, I can tell that the tank looks as though it has been sandblasted, with white striations and the occasional pockmark marring its normally silver appearance. A heavily-chewed disc seems to rise a little above the bulb.
That's all that's left of the Whipple shielding, and even the beryllium coat. Out there is some of the vacuum-iest vacuum to have ever vacuumed, as in a few atoms per cubic meter, and yet there was still enough interstellar medium to do that, just because of how fast they were going.
It's like I said. Interstellar travel is not easy, even for them. From Home to here, there was probably as much mass in their way as there is in a fart after you eat my mother's jollof rice, and it chewed these ships up. It's a miracle they didn't have any significant fuel loss from punctures to the tank. Hell, it's a miracle they got here in one piece, if you ask me.
Q: Then this is where the complications come from, I presume?
A: This is the crux, yes. Those tanks are useless, now. They'll have to discard them and get new ones if they want to seriously refuel, but there's still the issue of damage to radiators, and overall mechanical stresses. After all, they've been running nonstop for twenty years, or maybe a little less if you take time dilation into account.
Refueling alone would be tough. That's tens of millions of tons worth of fusion fuel we'd need to give them. And even if we could manage that quick enough, they'd still need new fuel tanks, some downtime so they can be extensively overhauled, and new shielding. If they were just refueled and sent back, I doubt any of them would make it. Whether their radiators break down, or the little shielding they have left fails and fleck of ice rips them open, they'd probably all die within the first light year.
That's the complexity I'm talking about. Even if we don't want them here, the Colonization Fleet isn't heading back to Home anytime soon.
The station is far less crowded than the previous time. As the Colonization Fleet approaches, non-vital space traffic has gradually been brought to a halt, and Amadioha-1 now fulfills its secondary purpose- as a TGDF observation base. Rather than the usual throng of civilian contractors and tourists, I see scientists and TGDF members floating down the hallways.
Lieutenant Chinua Obinna greets me in the CIC of the station. Gaunt, almost skeletal, he nevertheless proves a lively individual as he gestures about the heart of Amadioha-1.
Q: Thank you for agreeing to talk to me, Lieutenant.
A: It's no problem. I know a lot of the older officers tend to be wary of journalists, but I think it's good to embrace our transparency policy. People need to be able to trust those in power, and times like these matter the most.
Q: I agree wholeheartedly. Now, let's get to the subject at hand. At what point were the procedures regarding the Colonization Fleet solidified?
A: A lot later than most people would think. It wasn't just because people were arguing about what to do, though I've heard there's was... is... a lot of arguing. It's mainly that our procedures are heavily reliant on available resources and technology, and that changes a lot more quickly than it does in other spheres. Fifteen years ago, we had fewer ships, fewer weapons... fewer everything. And the equipment we did have was of considerably lower performance.
Trust me, I know. I can still remember the freaky rattling the walls of our old tugs made when we turned the engines on. Nothing quite makes your testicles go up into your chest like feeling the fragile tin can, the only thing keeping you safe from dying a horrible and lonely death in the unforgiving vacuum of space, rattle like an old bus.
The biggest changes, I feel, came with the Homeward Bound project. The breakthroughs in engine technology meant that we could have warships capable of engaging in deep-space interception with the Fleet, and the laser we developed to push the Ramesses provided a comfortable buffer.
Q: A comfortable buffer?
A: Let me rephrase that. From the beginning, it was decided that regardless of what we did... do with the Fleet, we weren't simply going to destroy it. In case you forgot, that was, you know, a pretty big deal? Clinching the Schism and Armistice kinda big?
Still, we're kinda paranoid. It's our job. If someone in the Fleet got a whiff of the impactors used in the war, or just went bugfuck nuts hearing of what happened, and decided to accelerate... well, even blowing up the ship could mean there'd still be relativistic shrapnel heading to Earth. The laser provides a means of ablating the shrapnel away from the planet, in case of that nightmare scenario.
Q: How concerned were you of a relativistic strike from the Fleet?
A: Me? Not very. It's not just a civilian fleet, it's a Race civilian fleet. They had these kind of ships for millennia, and yet even their military forces didn't think of weaponizing them until they were exposed directly to such ideas. Meanwhile, we had sci-fi authors writing about the idea decades before we even made a fusion drive.
Command, however, is paranoid. Again, our job. We actually did drills on what would happen if the Fleet didn't decelerate, and instead started heading our way with intent to wipe out the planet.
He looks around, then leans in, as if worried about being overheard.
I know we're meant to be very transparent, but I also know that a lot of the brass probably wouldn't like me telling you this. Basically, the laser probably wouldn't be able to ablate all of the debris if a few starships decided to martyr themselves. Even a hunk of steel the size of your fist could pancake Lagos. One ship hitting us could have, like, thirty times the energy of Footfall.
If that's the case, then our fleet would be ordered to regroup at our bases on the other planets within the few years we'd have left. Some would try to help set up shop, preparing as large and as self-sufficient a colony as you can.
The rest... well, let's just say we'd use the laser to pay back the favor.
Q: How serious were these considerations?
A: Like I said, it was mainly just a scary thought exercise. And besides, it's no longer relevant. The Fleet decelerated, and it's too close to begin a proper acceleration. Of course, when I mean "close", I mean "they're passing the orbit of Neptune". That isn't stopping our fleet from intercepting them, though.
I don't know if proper communications have begun, since they might not have woken up yet. But you don't need to hear it from them to know that our situation's going to be a bit complicated.
Q: In what regard?
A: Interstellar travel definitely isn't as simple as point and go. Here, lemme show you.
He floats over to the control panel, and pulls up an image on one of the larger screens. In the picture, I can see a tight cluster of silvery objects, consisting of massive spheres with bullet-shaped bodies trailing behind, looking as though they are standing on pillars of flame.
Q: Is that the Colonization Fleet?
A: No, it's my gourd collection.
Laughs.
Joking aside, that's indeed the Fleet. This image is a composite, made of images taken by a few flybys we did and our Kuiper listening posts. The resolution on these photos are astounding- just five years ago these probably wouldn't have been possible.
Q: They look quite different from the Conquest Fleet ships.
A: It's the fuel tanks. Race ships have an absurd efficiency when it comes to fusion, which is always something that messes with my head when I think about how they still used floppy disks for a lot of stuff, but to get to that cruise velocity they still need a considerable fuel to mass ratio. The Conquest Fleet discarded them as they came in, which is why when they land they just look like bullets.
Not just fuel tanks, however. They also serve as protection from debris and radiation, along with the Whipple shielding and a beryllium coating that kinda goes over the bulbous part like an eggshell. They actually look a lot like the...
He grins and waggles his eyebrows.
Eggman starships?
Q: Enzmann starships, actually.
He frowns.
A: Damn. I thought I had a good joke there. In all due seriousness, though, the tanks demonstrate the issues at hand. Look at them.
He zooms in on one of the starships, pointing with a long finger to the fuel tank. Though slightly grainy, I can tell that the tank looks as though it has been sandblasted, with white striations and the occasional pockmark marring its normally silver appearance. A heavily-chewed disc seems to rise a little above the bulb.
That's all that's left of the Whipple shielding, and even the beryllium coat. Out there is some of the vacuum-iest vacuum to have ever vacuumed, as in a few atoms per cubic meter, and yet there was still enough interstellar medium to do that, just because of how fast they were going.
It's like I said. Interstellar travel is not easy, even for them. From Home to here, there was probably as much mass in their way as there is in a fart after you eat my mother's jollof rice, and it chewed these ships up. It's a miracle they didn't have any significant fuel loss from punctures to the tank. Hell, it's a miracle they got here in one piece, if you ask me.
Q: Then this is where the complications come from, I presume?
A: This is the crux, yes. Those tanks are useless, now. They'll have to discard them and get new ones if they want to seriously refuel, but there's still the issue of damage to radiators, and overall mechanical stresses. After all, they've been running nonstop for twenty years, or maybe a little less if you take time dilation into account.
Refueling alone would be tough. That's tens of millions of tons worth of fusion fuel we'd need to give them. And even if we could manage that quick enough, they'd still need new fuel tanks, some downtime so they can be extensively overhauled, and new shielding. If they were just refueled and sent back, I doubt any of them would make it. Whether their radiators break down, or the little shielding they have left fails and fleck of ice rips them open, they'd probably all die within the first light year.
That's the complexity I'm talking about. Even if we don't want them here, the Colonization Fleet isn't heading back to Home anytime soon.
