“We can’t determine its point of origin. Considering its trajectory however, it appears to have come from the Battle of the Belt.”
Lem glanced at Benyawe and saw that her interest was piqued as well. The Battle of the Belt was the name the crew had given to the massive line of wreckage the sensors had found since flying closer to the Formics’ trajectory. The Massacre of the Belt would have been a more fitting name in Lem’s opinion, considering how one-sided the outcome had been. It was impossible to say what had happened exactly, but the amount of wreckage suggested that anywhere between fifty to one hundred mining ships had attacked the Formics in a coordinated assault. Sensors couldn’t identify the ships at this distance, but they were likely free miners and corporates alike, allied for once against a common enemy.
A beacon sent from one of the ships in the battle might hold critical, useful intel. Maybe they had discovered a weakness in the Formics’ defenses. Or perhaps they had more information about the Formics’ weapons capabilities. Any nugget of information could be helpful.
“Is the beacon broadcasting a message?” asked Lem.
“Affirmative,” said Chubs. “But sensors are only getting a billionth of it through the interference. We can’t make it out. The light sequence suggests it’s a STASA beacon, though.”
Every satellite used blinking lights to identify itself from a distance in case radio had failed. No sequence was more familiar to anyone than that of the Space Trade and Security Authority.
“I’m on my way,” said Lem. He clicked off and launched toward the push tube. Benyawe, as he expected, followed close behind. When they reached the helm, a rendering of the beacon spun in the system chart in front of them, its lights dancing across its surface.
“Can you determine when it was sent?” asked Lem. “Was it before or after the battle?”
“Impossible to say,” said Chubs. “It may have nothing to do with the battle. We don’t know.”
“Where is it now? Could we intercept it?”
“It’s not along our current trajectory. If we alter our course, we could snag it in about eighteen hours.”
“Would that delay our arrival to Luna?” asked Benyawe.
“By twelve days at least,” said Chubs.
“Twelve days?” asked Lem.
Chubs shrugged. “That’s the math. We’d have to decelerate to intercept the beacon and then accelerate back up to our current speed. Twelve days minimum.”
Lem considered a moment. “You think we should go for it?”
“In all honesty, it’s probably not worth pursuing,” said Chubs. “If it were a free-miner or corporate ship, I might expect intel on Formic defenses or weapons, something useful. But this is a STASA beacon. It’s probably a worthless emergency announcement.”
“Maybe it’s a distress signal,” said Benyawe.
“If it is, it was sent from the ship before the ship was destroyed,” said Chubs. “There’s nothing left from the battle but debris. And even if by some miracle a few people survived in a scrap of wreckage and fired off a beacon, they couldn’t have held out this long. Too much time has passed. There’s no one out there we can save.”
“Maybe it has information about the battle,” said Benyawe. “Which ships were engaged, crew manifests. That would allow us to at least document the battle for historical purposes.”
“We’re not historians,” said Chubs. “That’s not our mission.”
“Even so,” said Benyawe, “thousands of people lost their lives. Their families on Earth have a right to know what happened to them. That battle is a testament to human courage.”
“And a testament to human inadequacy,” said Chubs. “You’re not going to boost morale on Earth by pointing out how our new alien friends wiped out dozens of heavily armed ships.”
“We’re not going to keep it a secret either,” said Benyawe. “Earth needs to know what it’s up against.”
“The Formics will reach Earth long before we do,” said Chubs. “By then Earth will know exactly what it’s up against.”
“I say we go for it,” said Lem. “Right now we don’t have any critical intel that’s going to make any difference in the coming conflict. With that beacon we might. If we show up twelve days late, so be it. It’s not like they’re expecting us.”