As far as the eye can see

[Atragon9 0]

A9 watches the image of an over-worked, over-stressed and emotionally numb Admiral Gutarez fade from the main viewscreen on the bridge of the Manticore. He is trying to absorb and process everything going on while making sure not to show too much panic to his crew. He knows that they draw their own emotional compass using him as "true North," especially in times of distress. What could be more distressing than seeing the home world for the bulk of his crew - and the center of the Federation - almost totally destroyed by an unknown foe and in a frighteningly short period of time?

 

He turns away from the screen, not wanting to stare at the images making permanent scars into his psyche. Walking over to the tactical console, he verifies what his eyes have been telling him. Over 85% of the land masses on Earth have been pummeled by meteor attacks, or artificially displaced heavy objects. The societal and governmental infrastructure is gone and no signs of a sustained power grind can be detected. Besides the fact that this planetary mass still orbits the sun and has a sustainable atmosphere, the Earth - as it is known - is gone.

 

He returns to his command chair and monitors the scans as the ship makes an orbital pass over the surface. He doesn't want to get in the way of his crew, as providing them with this task is giving them the opportunity to delay their deep reactions to the horror below. All he can do is monitor the data feeds and keep open every comm channel, even the previously secret and secure lines that had been set up by the Federation Council for direct Manticore access.

 

After an hour and a half of the sensor sweeps, it is almost getting routine, but he can definitely tell a growing sense of despair from his crew. If this is how the higher officers are reacting up on the Bridge, he really must walk the ship to gauge how bad the news is being taken. Standing, he turns to Captain Sovak, looking as inscrutable as ever. "Captain, you have the Bridge, I am going to..."

 

Suddenly the normal sounds of the room are disrupted by a static-ey voice coming out of a small speaker in the Command Chair's arm. A9 turns to look at it as if he is hearing the rattling of Marley's chains.

 

COM> [buzzcracklehumm] ships in the sector [buzzzz] calling all [whooooshcrackle] Secure [hummmgargggle] ...ease respond

 

A9 snaps out of his frozen state and jumps back into his chair trying to triangulate the source and clear up the signal. "Helm, lay in a course for Latitude -23.700071; Longitude 133.88065 - full impulse!"

 

As the ship homed in on a spot in the middle of the Australian continent, the message continued to improve until finally they could hear, "Calling all ships in the sector, this is the Secure Command and Control commline. If any Federation ships can hear this message, please respond on the ELF frequency of 20 Hz and transmit your C&C code. Calling all ships in the sector, this is the Secure Command and Control commline. If any Federation ships can hear this message, please respond on the ELF frequency of 20 Hz and transmit your C&C code. Calling all ships in the sector, this is the Secure Command and Control commline. If any Federation ships can hear this message, please respond on the ELF frequency of 20 Hz and transmit your C&C code." The automated message kept repeating.

 

"Ops, I need an ELF transmission set up right away. Helm, keep us in geosync over this location. Now, what do I say to the remains of our race?"