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He moved back a step from the table and pulled the control unit from his pocket. “I believe this alloy contains a lattice-like structure of dark matter, which serves to strengthen the metal and also to make it far more resistant to certain forces.” He flipped the switch and the viewscreen activated, displaying a large diagram showing the theorized composition of the metal in question. “We unfortunately know very little about dark matter, so my ability to even guess at the characteristics of this material is minimal.” He looked over at Holm and Cain. “For now, I would simply assume that it is very, very tough, and it will take your strongest weapons to damage it.” He paused and glanced at Garret. “I also believe it is likely that this material is used to some extent on their spacecraft, possibly the hulls. I would expect it to be highly resistant to laser fire though, again, that is a pure guess on my part.”

Garret and Holm both leaned forward and looked at Hofstader, but Garret spoke first. “Do you have any insights into how we should attack this metal? Any weaknesses or vulnerabilities?”

Hofstader frowned. “I’m afraid, admiral, that all I can offer now is the suggestion that you bring as much force to bear against it.” He sighed softly. “I know that is not terribly helpful.”

“No, I’m afraid it’s not.” Garret smiled briefly…the whole thing seemed like a sort of gallows humor.

“I have been researching it, but you have to understand, we have barely been able to confirm the existence of dark matter. The ability to secure or produce a large quantity and to manipulate it in a manufacturing process is utterly beyond us.” He paused, then added, “Indeed, a strict interpretation of our network of theories suggests that this type of usage is not possible.”

“I guess that book needs to be rewritten.” Cain leaned back in his chair, half-lost in thought.

“Indeed, general. I suspect much of what we believed we knew will be subject to significant change.” He paused, rubbing his chin. “We will be researching this for decades…centuries, probably.”

“Assuming anyone is left alive to study it, you mean.” Holm was fidgeting in his chair, trying to get comfortable. That was becoming more difficult for him with each passing year. The rejuv treatments slowed aging, but they didn’t seem to do anything for old wounds. “I’m afraid we’re going to be needing some help from you and your people in a much shorter time frame.”

“I assure you I understand fully, general.” Hofstader wasn’t an intellectual snob, but it was sometimes frustrating dealing with non-scientists. Some of them seemed to think you could drop a chunk of silicon in the ancient Roman forum and, three months later, they’d have a working fab producing integrated circuits. His academic colleagues frustrated him too, with their slow pace and rules and constant delays. But research did take time, no matter how many guns were pointing at your head. “We are doing everything possible to aid the war effort. Neither I nor anyone on Colonel Sparks staff have been out of the lab for more than a few hours of sleep every couple days.”

Holm softened his tone. “No one is suggesting anything to the contrary, doctor. We already owe you a great deal for the insights you have provided. Without your data indicating the invasion was external, we might still be facing imminent war with the CAC and Caliphate.” He looked down at the table. “We’re all just frustrated.” Another pause. “I’m afraid I don’t react very well to not knowing what to do.”

“That is entirely understandable, general.” Hofstader wasn’t about to criticize anyone for being on edge. He was terrified himself, and plunging into his research 20 hours a day was the only thing that took his mind off of it. He hadn’t thought of the Marines being subject to the same fears as him, and realizing that the great military heroes of the Alliance were also scared wasn’t helping his own state of mind. “We do have some information that is useful in the short term.” He glanced over at Sparks. “The colonel’s people are working on some equipment that will certainly help.”

“Colonel…” Holm looked over at Sparks. “…perhaps you could report now.” He glanced back over at Hofstader. “Though please interject, doctor, if you have anything to add at any point.”

Sparks stood up a little too forcefully, and his chair slid away from the table. He reached behind himself and pulled it back. “Thank you, General Holm.” Sparks was reflexively straightening his uniform. The meeting was casual, but he was still uncomfortable with all the rank present. “Dr. Hofstader is correct. We have utilized much of his work, as well as the data sent back from the battlezones, and we are working on several systems that can probably be put into the field in the short term.”

He reached down to the table and picked up his own controller, pushing the button and bringing a schematic of a spacecraft onto the screen. “First of all, we feel quite confident that the enemy vessels carry their anti-matter weaponry in exterior harnesses not unlike our missile racks.” He clicked the controller again, and the display changed to a close up of the ship’s hull. “Everyone needs to understand there is an enormous amount of conjecture in what we are able to tell you today. This is a conceptualization of the most common type of enemy ship, which we are calling the Gargoyle for reference purposes. These vessels mass approximately 68,000 tons, about the displacement of one of our cruisers.”

He clicked again, bringing up another image, a view of the same ship from a different angle. “Notwithstanding the size of these ships, they appear to have firepower well in excess of one of our Yorktown class capital ships. Indeed, it is likely they have several times the effective strength, though the technology difference makes straight-line comparisons difficult.” Ships weren’t really in Spark’s area of responsibility, but the joint naval-Marine research team was reporting to him, and he was presenting all of the data to the high command.

“Despite the strength of these ships, we have identified a number of potential vulnerabilities.” He clicked the controller again. The display showed a complex schematic with icons and vector arrows all over it. “This is a diagram of the missile attack on Raptor near Adelaide.” He turned to look at the screen. “I know it’s a little hard to read, so I will get right to the point. The enemy seems to be quite susceptible to our ECM systems…far more vulnerable than one would expect considering the technological advantage they enjoy.”

He clicked again, and a chart listing percentages appeared. “These are the estimated percentages of enemy missiles successfully diverted from the targeted ships in every engagement for which we have data.” He hit the controller again, zooming in on the chart. “You will note that ECM effectiveness exceeds 35% in every circumstance, and ranges as high as 61%. Further, if we look only at our first line warships and remove the matchups involving civilian and local craft, the minimum percentage is 46%. Comparable rates of ECM interception when facing Caliphate or CAC vessels are in the mid-teens.”

“Do you have an explanation for this disparity, colonel?” Terrance Compton was flicking his eyes back and forth between the display and Sparks.

“Only an educated guess, sir.” He glanced over at Hofstader. “Dr. Hofstader and I have discussed it, and we feel it is likely nothing more than the fact that our electronic systems and frequencies differ from the ones they use and any that they have faced before. The Alliance and the CAC and Caliphate know each other’s weapons and systems very well, but we are new to this enemy.” He paused, waiting a few seconds to see if there were any questions. “This is a lucky break for us, and we need to use it to the maximum advantage while it lasts.” His voice became grimmer. “They will undoubtedly adapt at some point.”