The Tycho Conflict
— We haven't received any responses from the mining base and the reconnaissance ships for several days, stammered the man, holding a report in his hand.
Pier Benir raised an eyebrow. He never displayed his feelings directly, even when a threat seemed critical.
— What do the surveillance satellites say? he asked calmly.
The man nervously flipped through the pages of the report, trying to find the right information.
— Nothing. They've either been destroyed or are out of service due to the electromagnetic waves caused by the explosions, he replied, lowering his eyes.
The president remained silent for a moment, considering the implications. The Nation of United Humans hadn't had any declared enemies since the end of the space colonization wars, and peace seemed firmly established. But this peace was now threatened by these mysterious attackers.
— Gather the division chiefs immediately. We need to prepare for a counterattack, he said with cold determination.
Shortly after, in the command room, the division chiefs were gathering, some still in their night uniforms, others in combat gear. A hologram projected a map of the Moon and the affected sectors.
— We don't yet know who these attackers are, but they've annihilated all our installations in the Tycho crater, declared President Benir, pointing to the location on the map. We need to organize an immediate defense around the remaining bases.
— And what do we know about Captain Jaxon Rhylis, sir? asked a general, consulting his notes.
— Captain Jaxon Rhylis, like all the other ships, is completely unreachable, unfortunately, Pier replied.
A heavy silence fell over the room. One of the generals, Paula Strix, who had known thousands of battles in the past, felt her instinct pricking at her. Something wasn't right, and they might be walking into a crude trap.
---
Jaxon Rhylis had found his bearings aboard his ship. All the items had been put away, the cabinets repaired and secured, and he had rearranged his quarters to his liking. Being alone, he had combined several rooms to form a vast complex suited to his needs: a well-equipped kitchen, a library brimming with rare scrolls and books, a music room with a full range of instruments, and comfortable chambers.
He had made his decision.
— Nate, we're heading back to the Moon. Maybe we'll find clues about the masterminds behind this attack, declared Jaxon.
— Understood. However, I must point out that the NHU has probably sent a garrison of ships. I've tried to pick up radio transmissions, but we're still too far away, replied Nate.
— Exactly. They risk either getting slaughtered or finding nothing, retorted Jaxon. Our current weapons are insufficient.
— We should approach the Moon to try to establish contact with the ships before it's too late, suggested Nate.
— Let's go, concluded Jaxon.
---
— Our radars aren't detecting anything at all, announced the radio officer.
Paula Strix, arms crossed, stood solemnly and silently in the control room. The tension was palpable, each officer at the controls measuring the importance of every exchanged word.
— And on the ground? she asked, her voice betraying a hint of concern.
— The installations don't appear damaged, but they aren't emitting anything at all. Everything seems silent and completely dead, replied the officer, his voice reflecting the confusion of the situation.
— Thank you, Paula replied in a tone meant to be reassuring, though she was far from it.
This lack of signal was troubling. Paula Strix possessed an extraordinary intuition that often allowed her to anticipate the unexpected, a sixth sense forged over numerous critical missions. Something was off, and she could feel it. Her piercing eyes scrutinized the screens, looking for clues invisible to others. With her lips pressed tightly together, she commanded respect and a certain fear in the control room. The atmosphere was heavy, all the officers working in respectful and slightly anxious silence, sensing the gravity of the situation and the importance of every detail in this ocean of uncertainties.
Every flickering screen and every displayed report were analyzed with meticulous attention, but nothing seemed to explain this complete radio silence. Paula maintained her outward calm, but inside, her mind was racing, trying to unravel the mystery of this strange tranquility enveloping the base. She knew that in the vast silence of space, this kind of calm never boded well.
The four other generals, each piloting a squadron of ten ships, were to reach the Moon in no less than an hour to join her.
---
— We're almost in view of the Moon's surface, announced Nate's metallic voice, resonating in the ship's control room. The NHU has been there for a few hours already. They haven't found anything.
Jaxon nodded silently, his eyes fixed on the floating holograms before him. The projection mapped the Tycho craters, each dip revealing bright points indicating the Unified Human Nation's ships, their stationary positions contrasting with the vast lunar emptiness. A slowly blinking red dot on the map symbolized their own position.
— Should I initiate radio contact? asked Nate.
— No, Jaxon replied firmly. I want to see how the operation unfolds from a distance.
The ship glided silently through space as Jaxon adjusted its trajectory. Now situated thirty thousand kilometers from the lunar surface, he activated the minimal consumption protocols and engaged signal jamming. The ship then blended into the darkness, rendered undetectable at this distance thanks to its sophisticated camouflage. The cockpit lights were reduced to their minimal intensity to avoid attracting attention.
At this distance, he was twenty-five minutes of navigation away from the nearest NHU ship. This gave him enough margin to anticipate any potential attack while allowing him to exploit the maximum range of their radars. Data slowly accumulated on his screens, showing the trajectories, energy power, and signals of the other ships in place.
Then suddenly, a streak of points disappeared. Jaxon blinked, and a black line had crossed out the cluster of floating bright points in the room.
— Nate, what... ? Jaxon began, but he didn't have time to finish his sentence.
— General Fost lost his garrison in an instant, sir, Nate said in a cold tone. And General Atenki was killed by the second light streak.
Barely had Jaxon wanted to respond when the third streak had erased another line of ships, like a cosmic eraser.
---
— General Fost and Atenki are dead, announced Officer Marentz, his voice trembling, and their garrisons are gone. The third impact destroyed three of General Opal's ships. The fact that we were further back with General Rivers saved us.
— Move away immediately; the blasts passed just a few hundred kilometers away, ordered Paula, unperturbed. Calculate the origin of those blasts immediately.
All the ships in Strix's garrison quickly moved several thousand kilometers away from the Tycho crater. Thanks to triangulation, it was confirmed that the shots had been fired from the vicinity of the crater. A fourth shot illuminated the silent sky of the Moon, but this time it missed its target.
The enemy stayed well-camouflaged until the last moment to let us get close and lower our guard, observed Paula.
— A call from General Opal, also with Rivers, announced an officer.
General Opal reporting. A round face appeared on the screen. The man seemed petrified, his breath short, his small eyes sunken into their sockets, and his wide mouth appeared swollen. We couldn't do anything. Nothing on the radars before the attacks.
Rivers was pale. He had witnessed the destruction of the ships firsthand, the shots had brushed past his own at two hundred kilometers away.
Paula Strix observed the holograms of the remaining ships, her posture firm and her piercing eyes searching for answers in the chaos surrounding them. Rivers and Opal's call maintained a constant communication, their faces appearing on the main screen in the control room.
— General Opal, what are the damages to your unit? asked Paula, her voice calm despite the palpable tension.
Opal, still petrified, tried to catch his breath. He cast a nervous glance at his own screens before answering.
— Our losses are heavy, General Strix. Three ships destroyed, five others severely damaged.
Paula nodded, absorbing the extent of the damage. She turned to Rivers, whose pale face betrayed his fear. She knew the initial attack plan would no longer work. Continuing a frontal attack would only worsen their losses.
— I think it makes sense to withdraw all units to safety, she suggested. Here's what I propose: Rivers, gather your forces and establish a defensive perimeter. Opal, reposition the damaged ships and prepare for evacuation if necessary.
Paula Strix took a deep breath before continuing. The metallic walls of the control room echoed her directives, amplifying the urgency of the situation.
— As for me, I will personally investigate the area around that crater with my ship.