Part 1
On an average morning, average
things were happening. The planet Prometheus, third from the star
Alpha Centauri A, slowly rotated the Confederation Heavy Industries
orbital shipyard into the brilliant light of the star. Second shift
workers were trickling to their appointed places as first shift
workers slowly headed for whatever occupied their time when not
building or repairing ships in the orbital yard. In a sparse and
well-used conference room, a junior project manager reviewed his
schedules and associated documentation for one final time before
declaring that all was in readiness to commence his second ever
build. Some minor local dignitaries and a Navy lieutenant were
clustered around the coffee urn, chatting about everything from
planetside weather to sports. A company VP ducked in to check on
progress and wish the PM good luck on the new build, something she
liked to do for all builds in her department. With that, the
dignitaries followed the PM out to the Build Bay 4C observation deck.
A speech was made by one of the dignitaries, the president of some
obscure civic association, and the lieutenant offered encouraging
words on behalf of the Terran Military Forces. After a short round
of applause, the PM pressed a button and the bay lights snapped on.
With that signal, a small fleet of zero-g worker bots began to
maneuver a large beam into a predetermined position. In ancient
times, this would have been the keel of a vessel, but a major
structural member would have to do today. A small army of bots and
workers in hardened industrial vacc suits deployed into the bay to
begin the seven-week construction effort. Another short round of
applause acknowledged the commencement of activity, followed by a
round of handshakes and well-wishing as the assemblage broke up and
Bay 4C resumed a more normal ebb and flow of heavy industry.
Thus, on September 29th,
2271, TMF Denali began her life. Denali was the latest Mountain
class Reconnaissance Surveillance Scout Vessel and was designated
RSSV-1047. After substantial completion, she was moved to one of the
fitting-out bays in the yard, where she received her interior
appointments, electronics, and avionics. The fitting-out phase took
a further five weeks, and finally she was ready for shakedown trials
and acceptance testing. On December 22nd, 2271, the first
crew of Denali arrived and moved into their quarters. On January
17th, 2272, acceptance completed, and with some minor Pomp
and Circumstance, she was commissioned into the Navy.
Her career was slated to be an
uneventful one, with a utilitarian existence of patrol,
reconnaissance, and signals intercepts. With luck, she might be
assigned to an exploration mission, but her new crew was under no
such delusion. They were reasonably happy to be assigned to a
brand-new vessel, complete with the latest type 3 jump drive and
electronic packages and as a bonus the furnishings didn't have time
to accumulate any weird stains.
For the next 24 years, TMF Denali
had a quiet and routine career in the Navy. She moved from one
patrol assignment to the next, performing the mission she was
designed for with quiet efficiency. During a three-month refit in
August 2296, in addition to the usual heavy maintenance, she also
received electronics and avionics upgrades, and a new crew. The crew
was new to the ship, but not new to the Navy. The new CO is
Lieutenant Jacob Linden, an Academy graduate beginning his third tour
who is well regarded both by crews and by command and is a likely
candidate for promotion to Lieutenant Commander at the next promotion
cycle. The XO is Ensign Tina Appleton, a newly minted officer
courtesy of the Carruthers University ROTC program but has so far
been showing promise on active duty. The other 37 crew members are
all veterans of at least one tour making the Denali one of the most
experienced of the RSSVs.
On November 12th, 2296,
the crew packed their gear and checked out of transit quarters at the
Ross 271 (a) orbital dockyard. As they lined up waiting to be signed
on board Denali, there was much speculation about the state of the
"soft" upgrades, which is to say the mattresses and other
cushioned surfaces. The old-timers were taking bets there would
still be weird stains and getting plenty of action from their
one-tour shipmates. The chief of the ship, Senior Chief Petty
Officer Yamato, an experienced and squared away sailor on his fifth
tour, finally began to move the line, welcoming crew on board at the
quarterdeck with a check of their ID and an exchange of salutes.
Once the crew got to their berths, an audible groan arose from the
younger crew as, despite the fact the mattresses and cushions had
been replaced, weird stains somehow remained. Credits grudgingly
changed hands as the old-timers counted their winnings and explained
that the prevailing thinking, at least among Navy enlisted personnel,
is that the stain phenomenon probably has something to do with
quantum.
Quantum was very much on the mind of
the communications department. Perhaps the word department was a bit
grandiose for three crew, but it was technically correct. They
clustered around the communication station, admiring the newly
upgraded gear. The one thing that absolutely grabbed their attention
was the new quantum suite. Of course they had been training on a
simulator, but to get their hands on the actual unit was the
highlight of their month. The QCS192 system was the latest and
greatest in tactical communications, allowing for instantaneous and
undetectable communication between paired units that cannot be jammed
or intercepted. The system relies on the well-known but not entirely
understood, even though it has been nearly 300 years since it was
discovered, principle of quantum interference. In essence, a single
atom exists at two different points in space, so any changes in state
can be read simultaneously by both points in space. This allows for
instantaneous transmission of information that cannot be intercepted
or jammed, because there is no transmission occurring, just changes
in a single atom. For all practical purposes the sender and receiver
are in the same room. At the current tech level, quantum
entanglement can be utilized to a range of 13.9 light hours, or the
distance a radio signal will travel in that time, which generally
covers most medium sized star systems. Smaller units, such as the
QCS188 have ranges up to 10 light seconds, enough to reach far
planetary orbit from the surface. The two points in space are
contained in a pair of keys, one point per key, about the size of a
standard banking card. These keys are slotted into units that desire
to communicate. The QCS192 system has 256 slots for these keys and
therefore can maintain channels with up to 256 different
counterparts. The ship's safe currently holds a bundle of these
keys to be delivered to their new command station.
While the communications team is
lost in their techie reverie, the engineering department begins the
process of bringing the fusion reactor online from standby. It is a
routine process, but not one to be taken lightly. It is a process
that takes about an hour by the book but can be hurried in an
emergency. As the plant comes online, the engineering crew does
final checks on the sub-light engines and jump drive and finds all is
in order. Pilots, navigators, computer technicians, and all other
stations ensure their readiness for departure.
While the crew tends to their
business, the CO and XO meet the Port Captain, Lieutenant Commander
Roberts, who is technically in command during the ship's stay in
the yard, in the wardroom to formally transfer command. With the
customary exchange of salutes and handing over of the ship's log to
the new CO, the Port Captain stands relieved. Congratulations and
handshakes follow, and PO3 Nadine "Cookie" Al-Kaabi brings in a
fresh jug of Navy coffee, still made the traditional way with a pinch
of salt, and some ceramic "port-side" mugs and with a quick
salute for the benefit of the Port Captain, since things are rarely
very formal on vessels of this size, quietly withdraws to the galley
where she sets about making it her own. After a mug's worth of
conversation between the officers, the compartment comm unit buzzes.
The CO taps the unit, "Linden." A thoroughly Naval voice pipes
through, "Yamato, Sir. The plant is online, and all boards are
green. The ship is ready to sail in all respects." The Navy,
being a very traditional organization, has retained much of the
traditional verbiage from the days when it was exclusively a surface
service, and SCPO Yamato is fully in favor of this. "Thank you,
Senior Chief. Stand by, I'll be on the bridge shortly." Yamato
signs off with a crisp "Standing by Sir." With this development,
LCDR Roberts stands, followed by the CO and XO. With a final round
of handshakes Roberts takes his leave with, "Best of luck and
Godspeed to Denali and all who sail in her, Lieutenant." With a
final salute exchange, he exits the wardroom and is met by a junior
Chief in the passageway who escorts him to the quarterdeck and signs
him out. And with his departure Denali is once again ready for duty.
Linden and Appleton proceed to the
bridge to look over the assembled bridge crew and their stations. As
they arrive, Yamato snaps to attention and barks out, "Captain on
the Bridge!" Technically, the CO is the captain while on board,
but Linden always prefers to be called CO, at least until he has
eagles on his collar. With a smile, Linden acknowledges the
sentiment, "Thank you, Senior Chief, but CO will do nicely."
Slightly deflated, Yamato continues, "Very well, Sir. The bridge
is ready for inspection. There is a message waiting at the comms
station, to be read by yourself and the XO after we are underway."
With a nod, Linden performs the customary inspection as he moves from
station to station to check on readiness. The bridge on Mountain
class RSSVs is not laid out in the traditional open plan, but each
departmental station is tucked into a cubby between various equipment
and are not all visible to each other, but all can be seen directly
from a central rotating commander's console. Inspection complete,
Linden takes a seat at the commander's console. Giving it a full
rotation for luck, he begins the process of getting underway, "Pilot,
are we cleared by the yard for departure?" Chief Petty Officer
Clark affirms, "Yes Sir. We have yard clearance, and I am online
with the Tower." Linden acknowledges, "Very well Chief, retract
moorings and get us underway, course Ross 271 (a1)." Clark began
the procedure, "Aye, Sir. Tower, RSSV-1047 departing dock."
After a few minutes, Denali clears yard space. Navigation has
provided the course, and Clark engages thrust at a leisurely one
quarter ahead. At this point Linden transfers his status feeds to
the pilot station and rises from the console chair, "Chief Clark,
you have the bridge. Comms, please forward my traffic to the
wardroom. XO, Senior Chief, please join me in the wardroom." The
three depart the bridge and settle into the wardroom, although Yamato
remains standing. The jug of coffee remains, and a few new
"underway" cups have appeared. Damn she's efficient, thinks
Linden. He pours himself a coffee and the XO pours out two cups and
hands one to Yamato, who tests the coffee with a look of
satisfaction, as if he now knows for sure it will be a good cruise.
Linden taps the tabletop display and opens his message. A
distinguished looking Captain appears, "Good morning, Lieutenant.
I am Captain Stepanov of Admiral Mendez's staff. Here are your
orders:
Denali is hereby attached to
the 107th Reconnaissance Squadron
Proceed to the 51 Pegasi system
and rendezvous with TMF Hammersmith on or before 2296-12-12 and
report to Captain Aarav Yadav of TMF Hammersmith
Deliver the communications keys
package marked 107RCNSQ to Captain Aarav Yadav of TMF
Hammersmith
Deliver the communications keys
marked Colonial Administration to Colonial Commissioner Anvi
Chaudhary
A written copy of these orders,
introductory letters, various orders for 107RCNSQ, and additional
routine correspondence is attached to this message.
Linden dismisses the message and
leans back, taking a sip of coffee, "Well, XO, what do you think?"
Appleton pauses, taps the tabletop and brings up a chart of the
local area, "Looks like a good month to get there. It'll be
tight." The CO looks over at Yamato, "Senior Chief?" Yamato
briefly studies the chart, "Well, Sir, I make it closer to 27 days,
but the navigator will know for sure." Linden nods, and standing,
"Indeed. Let's get started, shall we?" The group heads for
the bridge, and on arriving Yamato dives forward and announces
Linden's return, "CO on the bridge!" Linden enters and sits at
the console, "Chief Clark, I have the bridge. Comms, give me the
1MC." Clark responds, "Aye, Sir. You have the bridge." Comms
confirms, "Sir, you are on the 1MC". Linden nods and continues,
"Attention all hands. This is the CO. We have received our
orders, and they are 1) Denali has been attached to the 107th
Reconnaissance Squadron; and 2) we are to proceed to 51 Pegasi and
rendezvous with TMF Hammersmith on or before December 12th.
Begin the transit now. That is all."
The Navigator, Petty Officer First
Class Pierre Thomas, immediately jumps into action. His first order
of business is to revise Denali's current course from the moon of
Ross 271 (a) to a clear jump point, after which the optimal route
needs to be calculated, considering availability of fuel, spares, and
supplies along the route. The first step is almost trivial, and PO1
Thomas feeds the course over to Clark who implements it immediately.
The CO watches the flurry of activity unfold and notes that level of
efficiency displayed by the bridge crew. He can see PO1 Thomas
communicating with the other navigational staff to get their input on
the optimal route as proposed by the nav computer. After a few
tweaks, Thomas pipes up, "CO, we have a course and jump solution
for our first hop: BD+08 4887." Linden checks his console, and
both the XO and Yamato casually steal a glance at the console as
well. The XO inquires, "Navigator, estimated time to a clear jump
point?" Thomas replies, "4 hours and 16 minutes, or 1343 hours."
While he is replying to the XO assistant navigator PO1 Penelope
Garza enters the bridge and drops into the second seat at the Nav
console. As befitting a vessel not designed for combat, the tactical
and navigational consoles are combined into one. Garza takes over
the tactical feed to ensure that there is no conflicting traffic.
About an hour later, Garza pipes up,
"CO, contact. Emerging jump, Ecliptic plus 27.454, Radial 288.1,
Range 952,460km. Assigning Sierra-4054 and starting a track."
Linden looks up from his console, "What do you make of her Garza?"
Garza studies the tactical feed, "Looks to be a civilian
freighter, signature matches the Rift Conveyor 28 out of Prometheus,
Sir. Apparent course is Ross 271 (a)." Details appear on Linden's
console. Routine traffic. Linden studies the data, "Very well,
Garza." The rest of the transit to the jump point proves
uneventful, and twenty minutes before the scheduled jump Linden
speaks on the 1MC, "Attention all hands, this is the CO. We will
be jumping for BD+08 4887 in twenty minutes. All departments make
preparations. That is all." Twenty minutes seem to pass quickly
as the crew finalizes their preparations. Each section or
compartment on the jump status board on the bridge begins to change
from red to yellow, some already indicate green. As the Denali
approaches the jump point all indicators are green. The jump drive
system requires two keys to engage; the pilot holds one and the CO
holds the other. As the ship reaches the jump point, Linden begins a
ritual that dates to the very first FTL jump. He flips open the
safety cover on the jump button on his console and slots in his jump
key. A loud chime sounds on the 1MC accompanied by a computer voice,
"Warning. The captain's jump key is inserted." As Clark does
likewise at the pilot station, a second chime and warning sounds,
"Warning. The pilot's jump key is inserted. The jump system is
now armed." Clark leads off, "Sir, the pilot sees a green jump
board." Linden responds, "Pilot, the CO sees a green jump board.
Proceed with the jump as planned." The pilot then readies the
count, "On Go. Three. Two. One. Go!" Both simultaneously jab
their respective jump buttons, and Denali temporarily leaves the
Universe.
At least the Universe as most people
understand it. The complexity of the physics of an FTL jump has
resulted in no less than 27 Nobel prizes being awarded. There are
small armies of theoretical physicists at work on improving, or even
just more perfectly understanding, the process. Beyond an academic
interest by the engineering department, none of that really matters
to the crew of Denali. They know what they need to know, that they
will cover the 8.04 light years to BD+08 4887 in 128 hours, 38
minutes and 24 seconds and they will re-enter the Universe
approximately 82.5 million kilometers from the central star. That
leaves the next five and one third days for shipboard routine.
Standing watch, cleaning, maintenance, and training. The mess and
the fitness room are popular hangouts for crew that are not otherwise
occupied, and many a tall tale is told over coffee.
As it always does, the time passes
and 30 minutes before scheduled emergence, the ship goes to Condition
Yellow. The minutes count down, and 5 seconds ahead of schedule,
Denali emerges from her jump. The pilot immediately begins to orient
the ship, and navigation verifies their location. Comms picks up the
system beacon and hears the reassuring tones of the automated message
welcoming them to BD+08 4887. With no traffic in evidence and all
else being as expected, the CO stands the ship down from Condition
Yellow. Linden looks over the system data, just as he did many times
during the jump. It hasn't changed, but it seems more depressing
now that he sees it with his own eyes. BD+08 4887 is a class M0 V
red dwarf, of no note or scientific interest, just merely continuing
its 10-billion-year journey into obscurity. There are two planets: a
colony on the inner planet orbiting about 0.2 AU from the star, home
to a couple million people, and a thousand-person facility operated
by some mining conglomerate on a small chunk of rock orbiting at
about 1.54 AU.
Routine turnaround activities are
underway in preparation for next leg of their journey. Jump drive
maintenance, various status checks, and of course, computing the next
jump. Well, Linden thinks, now that we are in the middle of nowhere,
we had better do a combat drill. Though not designed for combat,
Denali is equipped with two 6-megawatt pulse lasers in point defense
mounts. These are not fearsome weapons, designed for destroying an
incoming missile or possibly damaging an attacking fighter. Against
any larger adversary they would be lucky to scorch the paint.
Nevertheless, we had better practice using them, we are a Navy ship
after all. Sitting in his cabin sipping coffee, Linden programs a
drill scenario into the ship's computer. The XO currently has the
bridge, so let's see how she does with this. He takes a swig of
coffee, taps "Execute" and the drill is underway.
At the tactical and navigation
station, PO2 Ute Hofmann stands her watch. There is not much
happening in this system she thinks. This has got to be the back end
of space. Just then her tactical display comes to life. Immediately
she comes into sharp focus. Just call it out, just like you trained.
"XO, contact. Emerging jump, Ecliptic plus 77.032, Radial 181.0,
Range 25,607km. Assigning Sierra-4055 and starting a track." The
XO swivels the command console to face navigation. The XO inquires,
"What do you make of her Hofmann?" Hofmann replies, "No match,
new vessel. Specs and intention unknown." The XO considers this
for a moment, and given the unknowns and proximity to Denali, she
opts for caution, "Set Condition Red." The call goes out over
the 1MC, a nerve-jangling klaxon followed by an urgent, "Set
Condition Red throughout the ship." The crew jumps to it, everyone
heading for exactly where they should be.
A PO3 skids onto the bridge and
occupies the weapons station, only staffed during Condition Red. She
pipes up, "XO, weapons are hot and ready." The XO acknowledges,
"Very well. Hofmann, status?" Hofmann updates the XO, "Tactical
feed to weapons is active. Solution is in progress. Sierra-4055 is
maneuvering, probable course to intercept Denali." Once again, the
XO acknowledges, "Very well. Pilot let's open some distance,
full ahead, course Ecliptic minus 75.0, Radial 90.0. Keep us clear
of the star's gravity well, we may need to jump." PO1 Thomas
hurriedly enters the bridge and joins Hofmann at the TacNav station.
The XO immediately puts him to work, "Thomas, plot us an emergency
jump in-system, in case we need to duck." PO1 Thomas acknowledges,
"On it, XO." Hofmann pipes up, "XO, Sierra-4055 is closing,
now at 20,000km. No further details available on Sierra-4055."
SPC4 Mgembe at the sensor station pipes up, "XO, we have an optical
of Sierra-4055. On your console now. It is not a recognized
configuration." Appleton studies the image but does recognize the
hostile. It is a standard model used for training simulations. She
smiles inwardly as she recognizes this is a drill. "Very well,
Mgembe. Thomas, do we have a jump?" Thomas confirms, "XO, we
have an in-system jump solution." Appleton acknowledges, "Very
well. I don't think we'll be needing it."
Linden, watching the bridge from his
cabin, winces. She made me. I shouldn't have used a standard
component. Taking another sip of coffee, he decides to pull the plug
on the drill. He rises and makes his way to the bridge, and is
greeted by Yamato, "CO on the bridge!" Linden announces,
"Everyone stand down. Pilot, zero our vector. Comms, give me the
1MC." On the 1MC, "Attention all hands. This has been an
exercise. Set condition Green throughout the ship. Section heads
review your area's performance, and I will meet with each section
during the next jump to assess. That is all."
Linden turns to the XO, "Not bad,
XO. What is our status for continuing the voyage?" The XO
summarizes, "Allowing for a few minutes to reset, we are ready to
continue. We are at a clear jump point, fuel status is good, next
jump is computed." A quick glance towards Thomas is rewarded with
a confirming nod. Linden heads for the passageway, "Very well,
XO. Jump in 30 minutes, start the clock." As he returns to his
cabin, the 1MC announces the impending jump to TRAPPIST-1. He nods
to himself with some satisfaction. They all did well, no balls
dropped, no pooches screwed. He returns to his coffee with a
comfortable feeling about this patrol.
Another jump is complete. This time
to TRAPPIST-1, 6.74 light years, and another 4.5 days gone off the
calendar, arriving November 21st, still ahead of schedule.
TRAPPIST-1 is quite a bit more interesting than BD+08 4887.
Historically, it was one of the first systems to have a planetary
system identified. And at that time, it was believed to be the
unlikeliest. It is a tiny, class M7 V red dwarf that shines only
1/200th as brightly as Sol and is even closer to its
demise than BD+08 4887, but it is orbited by 7 planets in a tidy
little solar system. The planet closest to the star, still bearing
its original, if unimaginative, name of TRAPPIST-1 (a), is
surprisingly earthlike except for the temperature. It is tidally
locked, so the same side always faces the star. This causes the day
side to be quite hot, and the night side to be perpetually frozen.
This leaves a 1000km or so strip around the day-night interface that
is reasonably habitable. The tension between the hot and cold sides
also makes for some interesting weather, but nothing so extreme as to
deter the four million or so colonists who call it home. There are a
few other medium-sized installations scattered throughout the system,
and a modest amount of routine civilian traffic to keep the Tactical
station awake while the rest of the ship resets.
Denali is equipped with a Jump 3
drive, which has a range of up to 11.2 light years. This is new
tech, quite an improvement on the older Jump 2 drives which had a
range of 7.7 light years. Denali carries sufficient fuel for
approximately 30 light years of travel, so with 14.78 light years
gone she will need to refuel before her final jump. Her next
destination is LP 463-23, which has a decrepit Navy tanker
permanently stationed in orbit around LP 463-23 (a). After an hour,
all is in readiness and Denali commences her next jump. On November
29th Denali arrives about 40 million kilometers from the
star LP 463-23, another 10.86 light years closer to her destination.
LP 463-23 reminds Linden of BD+08 4887, with the same depressing
central red dwarf, but without any of the interest of TRAPPIST-1.
The refueling tanker is in orbit around 'a' and requires about a
5-hour flight into the star's gravity well to reach the planet.
Once refueled, Denali will need to spend another 5 hours to reach a
clear jump point. Well, nothing for it, thinks Linden and issues the
orders to the bridge crew. Comms calls ahead to the tanker to plan
the refueling and receives an enthusiastic response from what must be
an exceptionally bored crew. Five hours later, Denali docks with TMF
Walker (TF-5587), a 58-year-old fleet support tanker that will end
her career as an orbiting gas station for passing Naval vessels.
Yamato closely supervises the refueling operation. Liquid hydrogen
is not to be entrusted to just any deck hand because he has no
intention of ending his career in a hydrogen explosion. Yamato
fusses over everything until every detail meets his exacting
standards. Once the Senior Chief is happy, and his counterpart on
Walker is happy as well, refueling begins and takes about 45 minutes.
While the fuel is flowing, Walker's fuel gang shares gossip with
the Denali crew, one of their few opportunities in the past month or
so. More than one Navy story is exchanged, often met with amused
disbelief, or a "If you think THAT was bad..." one-up. Yamato,
keeping his hawk-like gaze on the fuel transfer, smiles wistfully to
himself, remembering the old days when he would have been one of the
ones swapping stories. Of course, senior NCOs still trade stories,
but they take it to a whole other level. And alcohol is generally
involved. As the transfer completes, the respective crews begin
methodically breaking down the connection and stowing the associated
gear. The operation is now complete, and the NCOs exchange a snappy
salute across Walker's fueling bay. Yamato makes his way up to the
bridge and informs the CO refueling is complete.
Denali climbs out of the gravity
well to a clear jump point and makes her final 10.55 light year jump
to 51 Pegasi. On December 6th, Denali emerges about 175
million kilometers from Helvetios, the officially recognized name of
51 Pegasi, although almost nobody calls it that. Now to find the
Hammersmith and get settled into their new duty station. "Navigator,
plot a course for 51 Pegasi (c). Pilot, prepare to engage and get us
there quickly. We're a few days ahead of schedule and we might be
able to get in some shore leave." A murmur of excitement ripples
across the bridge. Linden continues, "Does anyone have a fix on
Hammersmith?" Garza reviews the tactical display, "No, sir. I do
have plant signatures of Shasta at 'c', and Everest and Erebus
out near 'd'. I also have plant signatures of two known civilian
ships, GDMEC Ranger at 'b', and Transit Queen at 'c'.
Hammersmith, Matterhorn, and Olympus Mons may be laying low."
Linden nods, "Very well. Comms, send my compliments to Shasta and
let them know we are inbound." A quick calculation in his head
tells Linden they can expect a reply in about 20 minutes. He looks
over the system readout and finds it much more interesting than their
earlier stops. A bright yellow star, slightly larger and hotter than
Sol, hosts five planets, one of which is warm and earth-like.
Colonization efforts have recently begun on 'c', and there are
around 60,000 settlers there so far. Gravity is close to earth at
0.98G on the surface, light enough to put a spring in your step.
After 20 minutes, the expected reply from Shasta, "Greetings
Denali, Shasta sends her compliments. Recommend dock on arrival.
Look forward to your visit. Shasta Out." Linden scratches his
chin as he ponders the word "visit." They are probably unaware
we are joining the squadron, but since we are probably the first ship
to arrive since that order was given, we are probably carrying the
orders ourselves in the housekeeping traffic we were given. In any
case, there were about 12 hours until arrival. About an hour before
rendezvous Linden hands the bridge over to Yamato and heads for his
cabin to change into a more formal uniform. He swings by the XO's
cabin to get her up to speed. Both the CO and XO make their way to
the bridge as the rendezvous approaches. Comms pipes up, "CO,
traffic for Shasta has been forwarded." Linden acknowledges, "Very
well. Pilot, are we ready for dock?" "Yes, sir. The Senior
Chief is at the quarterdeck airlock now to oversee the connection."
Linden takes a seat at the command console and watches the docking
dance unfold. The operation goes smoothly, and with a satisfying
thump the ships temporarily become one. "Set port watch. I am
heading for the airlock." A round of acknowledgements from the
bridge crew follows.
Linden and Appleton arrive at the
airlock just as it is being opened. Shasta's CO and XO approach
and stop at the threshold. "Request permission to come aboard."
Linden issues the customary "Permission granted." A small
ceremony follows, where the Shasta's officers present their
credentials, are inscribed into the visitor's log, exchange salutes
with Yamato, and continue onto the quarterdeck where they exchange
salutes with the CO and XO. The ceremony continues, to Yamato's
enjoyment, as Linden shakes hands with the Shasta's CO, "Welcome
aboard Lieutenant. I am Lieutenant Jacob Linden, Commander of TMF
Denali. May I present my Executive Officer, Ensign Tina Appleton?"
It is now Shasta's turn, "I am Lieutenant Veronika Kuznetsov,
Commander of TMF Shasta. May I present my Executive Officer,
Lieutenant Junior Grade Haruto Watanabe?" The formalities
completed, the XO's shake hands with the COs and each other.
Linden shepherds the assembly further into the ship, "Now that
that's over, please join us in the wardroom." As they depart,
Linden calls out to Yamato, "Senior Chief, make arrangements with
the downport for us to land, and get me an appointment with
Commissioner Chaudhary at his earliest convenience after we touch
down." A crisp "Sir." Is heard in reply.
As expected, Cookie had set out
coffee and the "port-side" mugs, along with some sort of small
cakes. Pouring the coffee, Linden goes right to his main question,
"So, Lieutenant, we were expecting to see the Hammersmith on
arrival. We have orders and other traffic for them." Kuznetsov
takes her coffee and sips, "Veronika, please. We're rather
informal this far out. In any case, Hammersmith, Matterhorn, and
Olympus Mons jumped out for GT Pegasi to try to locate an overdue
expedition. Three research vessels, Dowd, Grenville, and Circe were
doing a comprehensive survey of GT Pegasi for the Navy and were due
here a month ago. Fifteen days ago, we declared them overdue, and
Hammersmith went to look. If there are no other problems,
Hammersmith is expected back in 4 days." Linden considers this.
"I see. It appears that Everest and Erebus are on patrol and
Shasta is keeping an eye on 'c'." Kuznetsov nods, "Correct.
We patrol in pairs, at least for the last 3 months. I hate to sound
like a superstitious swabbie telling ghost stories, but things have
gotten a bit spooky lately." Linden and Appleton both look up from
their coffees, not expecting to hear something like that from a
mid-ranking officer. Appleton needs more information, "Spooky?
How so?" Kuznetsov sips her coffee while she frames her response,
"Well, there is a general ominous feeling among everybody in the
system. It really is contagious and for the Navy's part we try to
play it down. But we are at the edge of human space here and that
contributes to the overall mood. That, and the ruins." Linden
nearly spits out his coffee.
"The WHAT?"
Part 2
Kuznetsov resumes, "I take it you
haven't heard." Linden and Appleton chime in, "No, we
haven't." Watanabe stands and secures the passageway door.
Kuznetsov continues, "About 6 months ago, ruins of some sort,
temples or something, were found in the jungle. One of the courier
ships stationed here brought the news back to Admiral Mendez, and
couple of months later a bunch of academic types showed up and headed
for the jungle. Admiral Mendez sent word that although this is not
strictly classified, it would behoove anyone with an interest in a
career in the Navy that did not feature a posting to a black hole
observation station to shut their traps." Stands to reason, thinks
Linden. The implications are huge; this is the first evidence of
intelligent life humanity has encountered. After a few seconds,
Linden responds, "I'm still trying to get my head around this.
It looks like 51 Peg has gotten even more interesting. You said you
have been patrolling in pairs for 3 months. Why then and not 6
months ago?" Kuznetsov explains, "There have been a few ships
that have gone missing, such as the GT Pegasi survey. Small
independent explorers heading out to the next system, looking for the
big score and not being heard from again. We don't have the
resources to go looking for strays. We only checked on the GT Pegasi
survey because they were on Navy business." Appleton taps the
tabletop and brings up a local chart and begins looking it over. A
bad feeling starts to creep over Linden, "You said 'a few'
ships. How many is a few?" "Eighteen."
Linden audibly groans, "Eighteen!
Out of how many that left here?" Kuznetsov finishes the bad news,
"Out of Eighteen. Mostly headed for Xi Pegasi, but 3 jumped for G
68-5, and 2 jumped for G 127-50." Appleton scrolls the chart, "Xi
Pegasi, F class star, with an M class companion. Preliminary
astrometry shows 5 planets, some in the habitable zone, definitely
worth checking, plus it looks like a good jumping off point for
further exploration." Watanabe breaks his silence, "And although
G 68-5 and G 127-50 are red dwarfs, there are 3 planets, including 2
gas giants plus an asteroid belt around G 68-5, and 2 planets and 2
belts around G 127-50. And the first planets in 68 and 127 are both
close in so there might be potential there." Linden slowly shakes
his head, "100% loss. That's astonishing." Kuznetsov
responds, "Agreed, Jacob. May I call you Jacob?" "Jake is
fine." "Jake, there is only so much we can do once civilian
explorers jump into the wild. Command has been notified, but we've
been ordered to stay put because of the importance of the ruins. And
we're a bit short handed." Linden takes the opportunity to get
back to routine business, "So your traffic didn't mention our
presence at 51 Peg?" "No." "I see. Denali has been
attached to the 107th, so hopefully that will help. We
were supposed to report on the 12th, so we'll take care
of some planetside business first." Kuznetsov nods, "Welcome
aboard Jake. But we're still short 4 vessels, we are squadron
after all." Linden hadn't considered that, sips coffee, "Good
point. Ok, now that I've got a lot of new info to process, I think
we'll break dock and head planetside. Great to meet you both, and
we look forward to working with you." With handshakes and salutes,
the meeting breaks up and Kuznetsov and Watanabe head for the
quarterdeck, not difficult considering all the RSSVs in the squadron
are the same class.
Linden and Appleton make their way
to the bridge. Yamato, ever on the ball, "CO on the bridge!"
Linden glances around, "What's the word Senior Chief?" Yamato
relays the news, "Sir, we are cleared planetside for pad 22 at our
convenience. Commissioner Chaudhary sends his regards and is
available anytime tomorrow from 0430 to 1230 standard. Two vessels
have jumped in; both are known courier vessels. No traffic for us."
Linden nods, "Very well, Senior Chief. We are breaking dock with
Shasta, see to it." Yamato snaps to attention, "Sir", and
leaves for the quarterdeck. On the 1MC Linden announces, "Attention
all hands, prepare for atmospheric insertion. Atmospheric watch to
your stations. Set Condition Yellow throughout the ship. That is
all."
The crew scramble to their
positions, and Yamato reports the dock is cleared. When all is in
readiness Linden straps himself into the command console and gives
the command, "Pilot, you have your landing instructions, take us
in." Chief Clark acknowledges, "On our way Sir. It will
probably be a bumpy ride; the air looks to be tropical and juicy."
Linden has an unrelated thought, I wonder if Cookie got the mugs put
away. He bets himself half a credit she did. With that thought,
Denali touches atmosphere with a solid jolt. Landing a ship like
Denali is different than the high-speed burn throughs of the first
days of space travel. It is more like aircraft speed, and just as
controlled, but can still be rough. Clark and the atmospheric
conditions do a good job in minimizing the turbulence. Once under
10,000 meters, it feels just like a commercial aircraft. With the
ship's inertial dampeners disengaged, the crew feels motion and
natural gravity for the first time in a long time. A brief
mechanical whine and the rumble of atmospheric drag indicate that the
landing struts are deployed. Landing is imminent, and the ship slows
considerably and pitches up slightly as Clark flares off the
remaining velocity. Denali settles on pad 22 and Clark begins the
post-flight checklist, "Sir, we are on the deck. Beginning spin
down checklist." Linden unstraps himself from the command console,
"Well done Clark. Carry on." Linden stands the ship down to
Condition Brown, the same as condition Green but the ship is touching
dirt, and rises from the console, "Pass the word for the XO and
Senior Chief to meet me in my cabin."
In his cabin, Linden takes a short
break to sip coffee and study 51 Pegasi (c). He chides himself, you
wanted interesting, well, you got it. His thoughts are interrupted
by a knock. "Come." The XO and Senior Chief enter the cabin,
"Sir, you wanted to see us?" Finishing a sip of coffee, Linden
issues instructions, "Yes. XO, get with whatever port
administration they have around here and get our supplies up to full.
Senior Chief, you get the fun one. We've got 4 days before
Hammersmith is due in system, so set up a shore leave schedule on the
basis that Denali will lift in 100 hours. I'm sure they have some
sort of bar around this place." Yamato grins, "Yes, sir."
Linden adds, "XO, we're going to visit the Colonial Commissioner
at 0830 standard tomorrow and deliver our package. That reminds me,
please set clocks for dual display, standard and local time. That is
all." With that the XO and Senior Chief set about their tasks.
Appleton signs out at the
quarterdeck, and notes that the Chief standing watch there is wearing
a sidearm as is customary when planetside or docked at a non-naval
facility. She gets her first real lung-full of the local air. Every
planet has a unique smell, and 'c' is fortunately nothing
horrible, more of a musty smell than anything, likely from the jungle
plant life surrounding the area. The oxygen content feels about
normal, which is good as well. She surveys the landing field,
estimating it is about a 5-kilometer patch of cleared jungle paved
with concrete and landing pads of various sizes marked out in paint
in widely spaced rows with light standards dotting the landing area.
The far edge of the downport appears to be an airstrip, with hangar
buildings at the near end and a terminal building. Utility vehicles
roam around the port, and others are parked by the hangar buildings,
waiting for the moment that the port receives another visitor.
Distant animal noises float across the concrete and are suddenly
drowned out by the starting of a turboprop aircraft. She looks over
towards the hangars and sees a 16-seat passenger turboprop taxiing
towards the terminal. She is perhaps 100 meters into her trek to the
terminal, and administration building she hopes, when a small
open-topped utility truck diverts its course towards her. She pauses
her trek, and for the first time realizes that she no longer notices
the smell of the air and becomes fully aware of the heat. The sun,
51 Pegasi to be precise, is blazing and it has got to be 50 degrees
out here, and it is humid as well. She had been so wrapped up in
soaking in the planetside view she hadn't even felt it. She chides
herself, great situational awareness Tina, you didn't even notice
you're in a sauna. Should have worn tropical gear not the
utilities, too late now. The truck pulls up alongside and the driver
calls out, "Need a lift, Ensign?" The heat radiating back up off
the concrete makes the decision for her, "Please. I'm heading to
the admin building." The driver motions her in, "Sure thing.
Hop in. First time on Charlie, Ensign?" Recognizing his effort to
be diplomatic, "It shows, huh?" She notices his mode of dress,
work boots, utility type shorts, t-shirt with what looks to be the
downport logo, an orange mesh hi-vis vest with Tyler written on it
with marker, sunglasses, and a ball cap. He smiles as he pulls away,
"I'm afraid it does. I'm Bob Tyler, I work over at the
aircraft hangars, usually only on days we have flights, which is
about 4 days a week." She returns the introduction, "I'm Tina
Appleton, XO of Denali. We just got in system and we've been
attached to the 107th Reconnaissance Squadron. We're
about to unleash a thirsty crew for some shore leave." Bob
chuckles, "It's always lively around here when shore leave
happens. Just for background, there are 3 bars in town, all of which
are glad when shore leave happens, if for no other reason it breaks
up the routine. And the occasional furniture." Appleton smiles,
"I'm sure our Senior Chief has already gotten all the intel."
The truck arrives at the terminal, "Thanks for the lift, Bob" as
they exchange a sidewards handshake and Appleton hops out. As Bob
begins to roll away, "No problem, Ensign. See you around."
Appleton turns and surveys the
terminal building. It is two stories high, with a control tower
rising another two stories on the far corner. The construction is
basic concrete, but with lots of large windows, which are heavily
tinted and probably double as solar cells given the strength of the
sunlight. A few vehicles are parked along the front of the building,
and it looks to be a mix of personal and downport vehicles. She
heads through an automated double door into the lobby and must pause
to allow her eyes to adjust to the interior lighting. After about 15
seconds, she can see well enough to continue. The interior air
initially feels quite chilly, but it quickly becomes comfortable.
Glancing around, she notes terra cotta tile on the floor with a
Pegasus laid out in a mosaic in the center of the room. Cute, she
thinks. The rest of the room has a few unfamiliar looking large
potted plants, probably used to be growing on this very spot, and
some comfortable looking padded benches along the side walls. She
can hear the taxiing turboprop pulling up on the far side of the
building as she sees a status board and wanders over to it. Sure
enough, Flight 2 departs in 30 minutes. That accounts for the
turboprop. She notes a wide doorway on the left-hand wall
optimistically labelled "To All Gates" as well as a door on the
far wall labelled "Administration." Bingo.
Appleton heads through the door and
into the reception area. It is a Mark One standard outer office,
complete with a potted plant, several chairs, a coffee table with
various out-of-date hardcopy periodicals scattered on it, a water
cooler, a coffee maker, a small table with disposable cups and coffee
fixings, a small trash can, and a bored looking receptionist behind a
desk completes the look. The receptionist perks up, "Good
afternoon! How may I help you today?"
Appleton steps up to the desk, "Good
afternoon. I need to speak with someone about provisions for my
ship." The receptionist taps her screen, "Let me see if Mr.
Howard has room in his schedule." Appleton suppresses the urge to
say something snarky. If this guy is doing anything but practicing
his golf swing right now, I'll eat that potted plant. The
receptionist confirms, "It looks like he is free right now. I'll
walk you back to his office." The receptionist rises and motions
Appleton to follow. As they walk down the corridor, the receptionist
inquires, "Are you new here? I don't remember seeing you
before." Appleton responds, "Yes, we just arrived." Before
she can find the next thread of conversation, they arrive at an open
office door and the receptionist knocks on the frame, "Ralph?
Someone to see you." A middle-aged bureaucrat rises from behind
his desk and motions Appleton into the office. They shake hands, and
he introduces himself, "Ralph Howard, logistics manager."
Appleton responds, "Tina Appleton, XO of Denali. I'm looking for
provisions." Howard motions to a chair, and seating himself dives
right in, "Should be no problem. Do you have a list?" Prepared
as always, Appleton fishes her data pad out of a pocket, notes the
port logistics address that appears on the list of nearby connections
and sends the list. A ding on Howard's desk confirms receipt. He
makes a few taps and reviews the list and nods. "No problem, we've
got everything on the list. I'll have it sent over." Appleton
smiles, "Great. Do you have a vehicle we can borrow, some sort of
truck or something?" Howard nods, makes some taps, "Sure. Sue
has all the keys up front; she'll get you fixed up."
Howard thinks a moment, "How are
you fixed for remotes?" Caught slightly off guard, "We have our
standard compliment on board, why?" Howard expands on his thought,
"We've got a bunch in the warehouse here. Last naval supply ship
dropped off 100 of these things, the other RSSVs took a few for
replacements and extras, but there are about 60 left. Ok if we send
some along?" Appleton is impressed by the initiative, "Absolutely.
If you can spare ten, we'll stash them in the hold. Could come in
handy." She rises from her chair, as does Howard and they shake
hands as she heads out to reception to collect the vehicle keys. Sue
provides the keys to an 8-seater van, which is a perfect choice for
their needs. Quite probably the standard loaner when the RSSVs are
on the deck Appleton thinks as she drives back to Denali and parks
off to one side. She signs back aboard at the quarterdeck and tracks
down the CO to make her report. Having done so, she then tracks down
Yamato and turns the van keys over to him. "You might need these
for shore leave." Yamato pockets the keys, "Thanks, XO. You'll
be happy to know I've gotten all the intel on the bars in town, so
it should be a fairly organized event, none of the random wandering
around that often happens." Appleton ponders how Yamato might have
done this but feels it wise not to ask. There are things mortal man
is not meant to know. "Very well, Senior Chief. We've got a
delivery with our provisions and ten extra remotes on the way. Have
someone keeping an eye out for them." Yamato nods, "Ten extra
remotes? Were they having a sale, Sir?" Appleton smiles, "No,
apparently, they received a bunch of extra remotes. A lot of them
are already with the squadron. Perhaps someone at HQ thought the
squadron has a full complement for ships, or more likely just screwed
up." Yamato nods knowingly, supply screwups are a common
occurrence, and sometimes you just have to get creative to get around
them. Remotes are drone sensor platforms that can extend the range
of the ship's sensors by quite a bit, but are bulky items, about
the size of two large sofas end-to-end. "I'll get them stowed
away no problem, Sir." Appleton nods approvingly, "I knew you
would, Senior Chief. Carry on."
Linden patrols the passageways,
passing a critical eye over the ship to ensure all is up to spec. So
far, so good, he thinks. He watches the provisions and spare remotes
being brought on board. Yamato is showing his usual efficiency in
getting everything stowed away, so there is nothing to see here.
Linden continues his patrol, encountering nine crewmen on the
quarterdeck who snap to attention as he approaches. He looks them
over, "The first shore leave detail, I take it?" The senior-most
among them, CPO Heinz Braun, the chief engineer, snaps off a salute,
"Yessir. We're just waiting for the Senior Chief to give us our
final instructions." Linden can't even image what they might be.
"Very well, Chief. Carry on." as Linden continues onward. All
being in order, he eventually returns to his cabin.
His legs stretched, he resumes
grinding through the various mission reports of the 107th.
All is deadly dull and dreadfully routine until the ruins are
discovered. The tone of the reports begins to take on a pessimistic
and ominous tone, like Kuznetsov had said. And these are the
official reports. I wonder what the unofficial traffic looks like.
And then there are the researchers, or whatever they are, who came to
investigate. Quickly scrolling through the logs, he counts 24 ships
in a ten-day period. That must be some sort of record for traffic
around here, perhaps apart from the initial colonization effort. I
know the discovery of intelligent life is the biggest news in a
thousand years, but why all the secrecy? Is someone worried that the
news will cause widespread panic? Or is it something altogether
worse?
He suddenly realizes that he himself
is now getting the "spooky" vibe. Got to shake that, Jake.
Someone has to stay sane. And, yet, he thinks, here I go down the
rabbit hole. He looks over the list of missing ships. No pattern
emerges. As Appleton pointed out, the destinations are logical, a
welcoming binary star, and a couple of unexciting but potentially
habitable systems. The exploration vessels that went missing don't
seem to have any common ownership, or any other factor in common,
such as a known flawed model of equipment that might strand them.
Their arrivals and departures appear random in timing, no suspicious
regularity. Perhaps tainted provisions? Some took on provisions
here, others did not. Perhaps impure fuel? Some took on fuel here,
others did not. Perhaps malware took out their computers? Some
joined the local network, others did not. The only thing they had in
common was that they were all here at 51 Peg. Two never even
approached 'c' just checked in by radio before continuing.
Or were they all here? Yes, these
18 were here, but are there other ships that are missing that jumped
from other systems and if so, were their destinations all the same as
these? He makes a note to send an inquiry with the next courier run.
He glances at the wall clock, notes that it is 2200 standard, checks
the bridge feed and sees that the port watch is squared away and all
is quiet, and decides to rack out for the night.
Part 3
At 0600 Linden's alarm sounds and
he rolls out of the rack and jumps in the shower. Fifteen minutes
later, he joins Appleton in the wardroom. "Good morning, XO."
"Good morning, CO. It looks like Cookie has oatmeal for us this
morning," replies Appleton. On cue, Cookie ducks in and deposits a
large bowl of oatmeal in from of Linden. He pours coffee, "Thanks,
Cookie." He takes note of little packets of brown sugar, raisins,
and maple syrup on the table, and selects and mixes raisins and brown
sugar into his oatmeal. After the first few bites, he inquires about
the shore leave, "So did everyone make it back last night?"
Appleton smiles, "They made it back this morning around 0400, like
a bunch of little drunken baby ducks under Yamato's wing."
Linden smiles at the image. That's a real navy Senior Chief in
action. "Glad they had a good time. Are there any reports of
fires, floods, or gunshots from town?" Appleton shakes her head,
"Not a one. Yamato's really on his game." Linden nods while
chewing. Linden taps the tabletop and calls up a map of the area.
He locates the Colonial Administration office towards the near edge
of town. A very straightforward drive, no weird detours through the
jungle. Just straight down Port Road until it meets Main Street then
juke about 100 meters north to the parking lot. "Meet me in my
cabin at 0800 and we'll crack the safe and head out." "Roger
that, CO."
At 0800 Appleton arrives at the CO's
cabin. Linden is readying the safe for opening. "Come on in, XO."
Appleton enters and seats herself on the edge of Linden's desk.
He inserts his safe key, types in a long combination, and is rewarded
with a click as the safe opens. He withdraws a bundle about the size
of a shoebox, inspects the label, and shows it to Appleton to verify.
She verifies, "I confirm that this is the package labelled
Colonial Administration." Linden completes the transaction, "I
concur, this is the correct package." He closes and locks the safe
and withdraws his key. Linden thinks to himself that these ship's
safe drills are unnecessarily complex but supposes that it is a
universal protocol and there could be far more dangerous contents in
safes on other ships, like nuclear launch keys. Package in hand,
Linden and Appleton head for the quarterdeck and are surprised to see
Yamato tending to business. Linden calls out, "Senior Chief! I
thought you'd be racked out. Are you made of cast iron or
something?" Yamato straightens up, "No, Sir. Cast iron is
brittle and rusts. I'm made of Chrome Moly Steel, noted for high
tensile strength, corrosion resistance, and resistance to fatigue."
Linden and Appleton laugh, "Very well Senior Chief, carry on."
Yamato produces the van key, "You may need this, Sir." Nodding,
Linden takes the key, and they sign out. The van is squarely parked
and looks like it has been washed. Both officers think it best not
to inquire. Appleton jumps into the driver's side, and they set
off. Linden notes two other ships parked, both small independent
freighter types. It is a straight shot to the port main gate, and a
straight road from there to the center of town.
The
Colonial Administration building is the same basic construction as
the port terminal building, a two-story basic concrete construction
with many large, heavily tinted windows. At the parking lot entrance
there is a sign announcing the Colonial Administration, and a
modest-sized parking lot that far exceeds requirements, and row of
vegetation that separates it from the building. An automatic sliding
double door with hours of operation in white letters
faces the parking lot. Appleton parks the van in a convenient
space, and the pair enters the building. They remove their covers
and tuck them under their arms, and after the mandatory eye and
temperature adjustment, Appleton notices that it is quite a bit
busier than the sleepy terminal building. There is a uniformed
security guard, who approaches and greets them, "Good afternoon. I
noticed the pause for your eyes to adjust. Try Rae's place just
down the street. She has the best selection of sunglasses and other
protective wear." Linden, somewhat nonplussed by the immediate
plug for a local business manages, "We're here to see
Commissioner Chaudhary. Can you point us in the right direction?"
The guard begins walking with a hand outstretched showing the
direction, "This way, please. My name is Corporal Kabir Malhotra,
Colonial Security. If you or your crew ever need anything, just let
me know." Linden acknowledges the offer, "Thank you, Corporal.
We'll keep you in mind." They arrive at the Commissioner's
office, and the Corporal opens the door for them. Linden
acknowledges the gesture, "Thank you for the assistance Corporal."
The Corporal leaves with, "Sirs."
It is the same Mark One reception
area as the terminal, they must order them as a kit thinks Appleton,
but notices that the receptionist is not the bored temp type but very
much knows his business. The receptionist stands, "Welcome to the
Colonial Commissioner's Office. The Commissioner is in a meeting
for the next 7 minutes but will be happy to see you then. Please
have a seat and make yourselves comfortable. May I get you water or
coffee?" Linden and Appleton take seats, "No, thank you we're
fine." The receptionist resumes his seat and goes about his
business. A few minutes later, a delegation of locals leaves the
Commissioner's office. The receptionist rises and gestures to
Linden and Appleton, "This way please," and ushers them into the
Commissioner's office.
The receptionist closes the door as
he leaves, and the Commissioner, still standing after ushering out
the delegation, shakes hands, "I'm Anvi Chaudhary. Welcome to
Charlie. Please be seated," gesturing to a small conference table.
Placing the box on the table, Linden leads off, "I'm Lieutenant
Jacob Linden, and this is Ensign Tina Appleton, of TMF Denali. We've
just joined the 107th, and we have a package from Admiral
Mendez for you." Chaudhary slides the over the box over to
himself, "So I see." Linden produces his data pad, "I will
need your signature to acknowledge receipt." The Commissioner
signs the pad and opens the package. There is a hard copy document
inside, as well as 32 pairs of quantum communication keys. Chaudhary
reads the document, nods, "Our comms section with be thrilled with
these. We received a QCS192 unit last month but haven't had a
chance to use it without these keys." Linden nods, "Our comms
section is in a similar frame of mind. We have to wait for ours
until Hammersmith jumps back." Chaudhary thinks for a moment and
removes 3 pairs from the box and hands one complete pair and two
A-sides to Linden and puts two B-sides back in the box, and explains,
"One A-side for Denali, one A-side for Shasta, and one pair to
split between you. As far as I know, the other vessels in the
squadron aren't equipped for quantum comms yet." Linden tries to
keep his surprise to himself. Why would the Admiral send keys to
Hammersmith? "Thank you Commissioner. I suspect the comms
sections are going to be busy for a few days playing with their new
toys." As Linden pockets the keys, the Commissioner produces his
data pad, "If you wouldn't mind." Linden signs the receipt.
Chaudhary moves on, "Do you have everything you need at the port?
Anything we can help with?" Linden moves to wrap up, "No,
everything has been quite smooth, Commissioner. Thank you for your
time." With that, they all rise and shake hands, and Linden and
Appleton depart.
They wave at the Corporal on their
way out, and head for the van. Linden suggests that they swing by
Rae's and get sunglasses, "I feel like a rookie, not have bright
conditions gear. Let's see what they have." Appleton pulls the
van to the parking lot exit and glances both directions up and down
the street, "There it is, on the right." She turns the van onto
the street and parks in front of Rae's Emporium. They enter,
pausing to let their eyes adjust, and are greeted by a smiling older
woman. "Welcome to Rae's! I'm Rae, and if I don't have it,
you don't need it. What can I help you with today?" Linden
casts his newly adjusted eyes around a medium size store, with all
sorts of gear the unprepared explorer might have forgotten to bring
along. Still on standard time, "Good morning, Rae. Sunglasses
would be great." Rae lights up, "Of course, just this way.
Men's styles here and for the Ensign, ladies are over there. Feel
free to holler if you need anything." As Rae bustles off to greet
some incoming business, Linden and Appleton peruse the selection of
sunglasses. They both select aviator style shades, noting the tags
that specify self-adjusting capabilities with an impressive UV and
brightness coverage, and at 30 credits, not too expensive. They
browse around the store for a few minutes and then head to the
counter and check out. Rae inquires, "Are you here about the
ruins?" So much for keeping it quiet thinks Linden, "No, our
ship has joined the 107th. We're just getting some
chores done." Pleasantries are exchanged as they head out to the
van with new shades donned. Something is nagging at Linden as they
start the drive back to Denali.
Appleton notices the look of concern
and figures she'll bring it up before they get back to the ship and
pipes up, "Something on your mind, CO?" Linden looks over at
her, "Yeah. Something is going on, but nothing I can put my finger
on. Just a weird feeling." Appleton nods, "Kind of 'spooky'?"
Linden snorts, "Very funny, XO. But yeah. That's the annoying
part. We're in the Navy, so the fact is we obviously don't get
told everything, but we usually get told what we need to know to do
our jobs. But I'm getting the feeling there are things we should
know, but don't." The XO nods and shares some doubts that Linden
also has but can't share because he is the senior officer, "I'm
new, but some things aren't making sense. Even I know supply
screwups are everyday occurrences, but to deliver maybe 750kcr of
sensitive gear to a frontier warehouse? To deliver highly sensitive
communication keys for a squadron that for the most part can't use
them? Or were they unaware of that fact? How could they be unaware?
Does that box for Hammersmith even contain communication keys? Or
are we expecting reinforcements? Why wouldn't they bring their own
keys? Eighteen missing ships from one frontier system? Alien ruins?
All of it really does feel, well, spooky." Linden hears a lot of
his own concerns echoed in Appleton's litany of apprehensions.
He's glad she got it said so it won't build up. He's also glad
that she felt she could confide in him as her CO. Adopting a
reassuring tone, "All valid points, XO. I have answers to
precisely none of them, but I think when Hammersmith gets back we'll
get a clearer picture of the situation." As they pull up to
Denali, Appleton, temporarily unburdened, "I'm sure we will. We
only have three more days to find out."
Linden gathers the communications
department and signs the keys over to them. They are almost giddy
with excitement. They immediately take their leave and head for
their equipment space to begin putting the quantum gear into
production. Later that afternoon the next shore leave detail is
underway under the watchful eye of Yamato. The comms crew has
successfully configured their link to the Colonial Administration
comm center, and with their far-side counterparts were having all
sorts of geeky fun before finally declaring the link operational and
reserving it for official use. The routine of portside life
continues onward. Rae has been selling sunglasses like hotcakes, and
the local bars and eateries are thriving under the patronage of
Denali's crew. Yamato has yet to show signs of fatigue or rust.
The morning before the last batch of revelers is scheduled to be in
town, Appleton borrows the van and tracks down the warehouse where
the remotes are stored. Thanks to the shades, she doesn't get
ambushed by the sole warehouse employee who is putting together some
pallets of miscellaneous goods. "Can I help you with something,
Ensign?" calls out the employee. Appleton checks her data pad for
a lot number, "Yes, I'm looking for a Navy shipment, lot
N9427-ERCV-1881726." Consulting his data pad, after confirming the
designator he taps it into the pad. He points over towards the far
side of the building, "Over there, Ensign. You'll see the Navy
items set off from the rest." Thanking him, she heads for the
indicated area. She finds a section set off by wide aisles
containing perhaps 50 remote-sized crates and a substantial number of
other boxes and crates, all with Navy markings. Inspecting the
remote-sized crates, everything is in order. The other goods are all
routine provisions and spare parts. Nothing strange here. She heads
back to the van, checks her watch, and decides there is plenty of
time to cruise around the town.
She heads out of the port, checks
the nav display and realizes that the name of the town is Town. She
thinks they must have had a mighty slim budget for names. She passes
the Colonial Administration building, Rae's Emporium, two hotels,
and several other frontier-architecture style low-rise office
buildings. She passes the three bars, various eateries, more
businesses, and skirts along the edge of the residential district
where most of Town's 38,000 or so residents live. Nice little
bungalow style houses, she thinks. They look spacious, comfortable,
and well designed for the climate. As she rounds back towards the
Colonial Administration building, she sees a sign that prompts her to
put on the brakes. It reads "Ruins Tours Here" and in smaller
letters underneath "See the Alien Wonders!" Not exactly the keep
it low key thing she was expecting. I guess folks around here are
looking forward to cashing in when the hordes of researchers and
tourists start to show up. After a few seconds of contemplation, she
heads the van back to Denali.
Linden shakes his head when he hears
about the tour sign, "You've got to be kidding me. This must be
the worst kept secret ever. Let's forget about that for now. How
are we looking for lift tomorrow afternoon?" Appleton runs down
the checklist, "All provisions and spares are on board,
communications to the CA have been upgraded, the power plant is at
standby, and all crew are present and accounted for, which we will
revisit after the last shore leave detail returns. In short, the
ship is ready." Linden nods, "Very well, XO."
The final day on the ground passes,
the shore leave detail returns safely, and Yamato grabs some rack
time. Later that day, the entire crew is sufficiently recovered to
permit the planned lift to proceed. The engineering gang begins
bringing the power plant online, navigation has plotted the orbital
parameters for a rendezvous with Shasta, and the pilot obtains
clearance from the tower. When the power plant is completely online,
Linden gives the word on the 1MC, "Set Condition Yellow throughout
the ship. Prepare for lift. Pilot, lift." Clark acknowledges,
"Aye, Sir. Beginning lift." The ship lurches as it begins to
hover and drift forward, slowly picking up speed. The pilot retracts
the landing struts and engages the ships inertial dampeners,
preventing any changes in speed and direction from bouncing the crew
off the bulkheads, as well as engaging the floor gravity. The sudden
change from 0.98G to 1G is noticeable, but the crew will soon adjust.
The roar of the ship's engines is impressive but quickly becomes
quieter as the atmosphere thins. After about 20 minutes, Denali
inserts into an orbit at the same altitude as Shasta. "Comms, hail
Shasta and make arrangement for docking." A minute later, "Shasta
confirms dock. Course relayed to pilot." Denali maneuvers on the
course provided by Shasta and with 30 minutes has caught up to her
and begins lining up for docking. Yamato has already headed for the
quarterdeck to supervise the docking. The dock is accomplished
within 5 minutes. Linden on the 1MC, "Set Condition Green
throughout the ship. Communications department meet the CO on the
quarterdeck." Then to Clark, "Clark, you have the bridge."
Clark acknowledges as Linden and the XO head for the quarterdeck.
The hatchway now open, the ceremony
associated with boarding the Shasta commences. After permission is
granted, salutes are exchanged, and visitor log signed, the Denali
party is met by LTJG Watanabe, "Welcome aboard Shasta." Linden
responds, "Thank you, Lieutenant. This is our Communications
Officer, Petty Officer First Garcia." Garcia addresses Watanabe, "A
pleasure, Sir. With your permission, we have some upgrades for your
QCS192." Watanabe concurs, "Interesting, please go ahead."
Watanabe gestures the comms folks ahead. Linden calls after Garcia,
"Garcia, don't forget to get a receipt." Garcia acknowledges,
"Will do, Sir." Watanabe gestures to Linden and Appleton,
"Please join the CO in the wardroom. I have to get to the bridge,
but I'm sure you know the way." Linden nods, "Thanks,
Lieutenant. We'll be fine." They exchange salutes and Watanabe
departs. Linden and Appleton make their way to the wardroom and find
Kuznetsov looking at a display on the tabletop. Kuznetsov gestures
them in, "Come in, have a seat."
Linden and Appleton sit at the
table. "Veronika, I took the liberty of bringing over some keys
for your QCS192. One channel to Colonial Administration, and one
channel to Denali." Kuznetsov nods, "Appreciated, Jake. Shasta
and Denali are the only ones in the squadron with quantum comms.
Looks like we finally get to use the gear we've been hauling around
for 7 months." Linden, "I've been wondering about that. When
I delivered the key package to Commissioner Chaudhury, I mentioned
that Denali also had a QCS192 and that I also had a key package for
Hammersmith and he mentioned that Shasta and Denali were the only
ones in the squadron with quantum capability. It sounds like that is
the case. I'm wondering why I'm carrying keys that Hammersmith
can't really use. That, and all the spare remotes. It seems like
there is a puzzle piece missing." Kuznetsov holds her response as
the steward knocks and enters with coffee and "underway" cups,
sets the tray on the table, and withdraws. Pouring coffee for the
visitors and then herself Kuznetsov resumes her thought, "I didn't
know about the keys for the Hammersmith, but it just adds to the
mystery. Denali has been on station for less than a week; have you
figured out by what I meant by 'spooky' yet?"
Kuznetsov studies their reaction and
thinks if there's ever a poker game, I'm taking all of Appleton's
money and most of Linden's. She continues, "It seems you've
given it some thought. The thing that makes the most sense to me is
that they are just prepositioning some useful items for when the news
breaks about the ruins and the gold rush is on." Linden nods
thoughtfully, "That makes sense for the extra gear, but the 18
missing ships?" Kuznetsov nods in agreement, "Yeah. That goes
way beyond any statistical blip. But every jump for those three
systems fails? That makes no sense whatsoever. One, or possibly
two, could be explained by systems failure or rookie explorers. If
it was just one system, I could see some sort of natural phenomenon,
like there's a black hole there or something, but astrometry would
have charted that a hundred years ago." Linden hadn't considered
the black hole theory, but she had a point. That kind of object
stands out like a sore thumb in astrometric surveys. He decides to
add his thoughts, "I was wondering if there were ships that jumped
from other frontier systems that went missing. If there are, were
their destinations the same as these 18?"
Just then the comms box in the
wardroom buzzes and Kuznetsov taps it, "CO, we have an emerging
jump, Ecliptic minus 14.08, Radial 136.02, Range 65.581 million
kilometers. Assigning Sierra-5177 and starting a track."
Kuznetsov replies, "Very well. Any read on 5177?" All three
officers are hopeful that it might be Hammersmith or one of the other
RSSVs. "Signature matches a known vessel, Glorious Trader 12,
corporate registry, home port Tannhauser Prime. Probable course is
Charlie." Kuznetsov manages to hide her disappointment, "Very
well, Zao-Hsu. Carry on." Getting back on topic, "Interesting
line of thought Jake. Worth checking." Linden picks up the
thread, "I was thinking of sending one of the couriers but wanted
to wait for Hammersmith because I'm sure they'll have traffic as
well. Plus, I don't want to step on my new CO's toes before I
even meet him." Kuznetsov chuckles, "So, looking to make Admiral
one day? That's some political thinking there. In any case, I
don't think Captain Yadav would take it too badly, but you're
right. We can't tie up a courier for a single inquiry. Just send
it to the courier queue and it'll go with the next run." They
finish their coffee over small talk and Navy gossip, and Linden and
Appleton sign back aboard Denali.
Linden stops by his cabin and
formulates his query and transmits it to the courier queue. The day
wears on and there are no further inbound ships. Garcia and her team
finish their work with Shasta and return on board and geek out some
more playing with universal forces beyond humanity's understanding.
After sufficient fun, the Denali-Shasta link is declared
operational. The other RSSVs in-system, Everest and Erebus, continue
their planned sweep along the 'd' orbit. Everything settles into
the normal routine of a quiet frontier system. There are drills to
familiarize the crews with working with each other, and to practice
using the new comms in concert with the CA. December 12th
comes and goes, and on the 13th, Kuznetsov, Linden,
Watanabe, and Appleton meet in Shasta's wardroom for coffee. After
coffee and pleasantries, they begin recording the meeting for
transmission to Everest and Erebus who are still at a 1-plus hour
radio delay. Kuznetsov leads off, "Lieutenant Anika Singh of
Everest, Lieutenant Filippo Bruno of Erebus, we are recording our
meeting for your review and comment and ask for your input at your
earliest convenience. First, I am introducing Lieutenant Jacob
Linden, CO of Denali, and Ensign Tina Appleton, XO of Denali. Please
say hello." Linden starts, "Good morning, Lieutenants. I am
pleased to be working with you. Ensign?" Appleton speaks up,
"Good morning, Sirs. A pleasure." Kuznetsov takes the floor
back, "The reason for this meeting is that as we are all aware,
Hammersmith, Matterhorn, and Olympus Mons are two days behind
schedule. While this may just be a normal delay, and hopefully this
is premature, given the extraordinary loss of vessels in this area, I
feel it would be a good idea to decide at what point we will declare
Hammersmith, Matterhorn, and Olympus Mons missing."
Linden and Appleton both saw this
coming, given the recording of the discussion and relative formality
of the tone. Kuznetsov continues, "I propose that if the vessels
do not return, and we have no further information as to their status,
by 1200 hours December 20th, we declare those vessels
missing and so inform Fleet command and request reinforcement or
relief. Should that event come to pass, the remaining commanding
officers of the 107th Reconnaissance Squadron will appoint
a temporary unit commander until such time as a permanent replacement
is provided by Fleet command. Please consider the situation and my
proposal and make your thoughts known to all commanders at your
earliest convenience. Thank you all for your time. Recording ends."
Kuznetsov stops the recording, tags it an official record, and
forwards it to comms for distribution to the commanders of all the
ships in the squadron. Linden, speaks up, "This is a first for me.
It almost feels like a conspiracy." Appleton speaks up, "It
makes sense as a plan. The whole situation feels, well, spooky."
Linden cringes, but Kuznetsov agrees, "It does indeed, Ensign.
More coffee anyone?" Another cup of coffee is poured, and
conversation turns to lighter subjects and finally the meeting breaks
up and Linden and Appleton return to Denali. Shortly after, the
ships break dock and resume their formation. The commanding officers
of Everest and Erebus return their replies and concur with
Kuznetsov's appraisal and proposal. Linden returns his reply for
the record, indicating his concurrence as well.
Part 4
The days dissolve into the routine
activities of a patrol station on the frontier. Shipboard duties
such as drilling, cleaning, maintenance, and the endless monitoring
of instruments consume the days. As the occasional ship enters the
system, there is the hope that it will be the overdue vessels, but it
is just routine civilian traffic. In the early morning hours of
December 20th, Kuznetsov sends a request to all ships to
ensure all traffic that will leave with the courier ship is received
prior to 1200 hours. The next courier ship in the rotation is put on
notice that they will be departing at 1205 hours, and the courier
begins to maneuver to a clear jump point. The tension on board is
thick as the hour approaches. At 1200 hours, with no sign seen or
signals heard, Kuznetsov broadcasts over the 1MC and to the squadron,
courier vessel, and Colonial Administration, "As of 1200 hours, 20
December 2296, TMF Hammersmith, TMF Matterhorn, and TMF Olympus Mons
are missing and presumed lost. Fleet Command is being informed of
this development, and the 107th Reconnaissance Squadron is
requesting reinforcement or relief. Be advised that Fleet Command
will not receive this communication prior to 13 January 2297, and we
will not see a response before 7 February 2297. Until that time, and
until we hear otherwise, the 107th Reconnaissance Squadron
will continue to carry out the mission that we were assigned with our
usual dedication and efficiency. Quarterdeck, sound the ship's
bell three times to honor our missing comrades." The bell slowly
chimes three mournful notes. "Godspeed Hammersmith, Matterhorn,
Olympus Mons, and to all who sail in them. As you were."
At 1205 hours Courier ACX-9337
jumps, thus beginning her journey to Fleet Command. The mood across
the 107th is somber, but professional. Some of the more
experienced of the crew have seen similar situations before, though
not on this scale, and lend the benefit of their experience to their
shipmates. Yamato makes a point to circulate around the ship,
checking in on each department and especially the off-duty crew whose
minds have the most time to wander into dark places. Later that day,
Linden and Appleton join Kuznetsov in Shasta's wardroom. It is the
same procedure as before, with the meeting recorded both for
inclusion of the commanders "at sea," as Yamato would put it, and
for the record. Kuznetsov begins, "Good afternoon. While we still
hold out hope that the missing vessels and crew might still be found
safe, realistically we know they are lost to us. I have convened
this meeting to select a temporary commanding officer of the 107th
Reconnaissance Squadron. I have reviewed the service records of all
the officers assigned to this station and find that I am the senior
officer in this system at this moment, which makes me, by default,
the acting squadron commanding officer. I ask that every officer on
this station review any information at their disposal to confirm my
findings. If I am incorrect in my findings, I will happily step
aside. I ask that you give this matter your due consideration and
reply with your findings at your earliest convenience. I am also
sending a copy to the Colonial Commissioner's office for their
information and comments. Everest and Erebus, we look forward to you
joining us here at 51 Pegasi (c) mid-January before we begin our next
sweep. That is all. Godspeed." The recording is ended, and
Kuznetsov sends the recording to comms for distribution.
Linden, who was thinking for a
moment that it might have been him, is somewhat relieved. Linden
breaks the silence, "Congrats, Veronika." Kuznetsov snorts,
"Thanks. I'd rather do without the honor. Before the current
sweep gets back, work up a patrol plan for Denali and Shasta for the
'e' orbit." Linden acknowledges with a smile, "Aye, Sir. As
the new CO, I have a package in the Denali's safe that needs your
signature." Kuznetsov nods, "May as well get it while we're
still docked. Let's go." The officers move to Denali and
Linden's cabin. Linden and Appleton gather around the safe and
Kuznetsov stands discreetly to one side while the other two go
through the safe drill to verify the correct package. Having done
so, he presents the package to Kuznetsov, and she signs Linden's
data pad. She sets the package on Linden's desk and opens it and
reviews the contents. There are 96 key pairs in the box. Appleton
looks thoughtful, "You don't think that... Excuse me." She
taps the comms box on the desk and hails Yamato. Yamato responds
almost instantly, "Sir?" Kuznetsov and Linden watch with
curiosity. Appleton continues, "Senior Chief, have someone open
one of the new remote crates and go over the drone and see if it is
equipped with a quantum communication device." Kuznetsov and
Linden glance at each other and share a mildly impressed look.
Yamato responds, "Aye, Sir. I'll advise when we know something."
Appleton signs off, "Very well, Senior Chief. Carry on."
Linden inquires, "So, Ensign,
what's the plan if the remotes are in fact quantum capable?"
Appleton takes a beat to compose her response, "I would strongly
recommend that we equip the new remotes with keys and either swap
them for the existing remotes in the existing stowage or set up a
capability to deploy them directly from the hold. Once equipped with
the keys, data transmissions to and from the remotes will no longer
be subject to detection, disruption, or interception. That and that
fact that communication is instantaneous will increase the utility of
the remotes immeasurably. It will also allow practical networking of
remotes and other tactical data between Denali and Shasta and the CA
from or to anywhere in the system." Both Kuznetsov and Linden
pause to absorb the implications, especially the concept of a
tactical network. Tactical information is shared between assets, but
the delays introduced by distance make synchronization very
difficult, because the same information could be recorded seconds or
even minutes apart and needs to be reconciled with all other
networked ships that may also be minutes or hours apart. Linden
buzzes the galley, "Cookie, please bring coffee for three to the
wardroom." Linden motions to the group, "Shall we adjourn to the
wardroom?" The officers proceed to the wardroom, pour some coffee,
and secure the door.
After about a half an hour of
discussion and coffee, the comms unit buzzes. Linden answers,
"Senior Chief, what's the word?" Yamato relays his findings,
"Sir, please advise the Ensign her suspicion is correct. These
units are equipped with QCS188s in addition to conventional
communications gear." Kuznetsov slides ten keys and her data pad
across to Linden as Appleton pipes up, "I'm here Senior Chief.
Thanks for the update." Yamato replies, "My pleasure. Is there
anything else, Sirs?" While signing for the keys, Linden closes
out, "Nothing else, Senior Chief. Carry on." Kuznetsov
summarizes her thoughts, "This is no doubt why the extra gear was
sent, and I'm sure deployment and tactics are being, or have been,
developed by the Navy, but regardless we are the first in this system
to have this gear, so we get to develop our own. It looks like the
upcoming sweep will be a real training and testing opportunity. We
should probably get all our technical sections working together
immediately to figure out how to set up and effectively use this
quantum tactical network." Linden and Appleton nod, and Linden
sets things in motion, "XO, have the sensor, tactical/navigation,
computer, weapons departments, plus anyone else you think might be
useful, meet up and start working out the technical implementation
and practical use of this new gear. With concurrence, I would like
those departments from Shasta to be involved as well." Linden
hands the ten keys and his data pad to Appleton, "And have these
installed in the new remotes." Appleton signs for the keys as
Kuznetsov gives her approval, "By all means. Work with my XO for
scheduling. I think we'll remain docked until we're ready to
start testing." With that the meeting breaks up and Appleton sets
about her work.
In the coming days, Linden works up
the patrol plan for the 'e' orbit, to include testing the newly
upgraded equipment. The technical sections of Denali and Shasta get
to grips with their various projects, configuring, testing, and
reconfiguring. They include the CA communications section in their
testing and are able to get imagery relayed from planetside sources.
On January 18th, Everest and Erebus return from their
patrol. Debriefing takes two days, and Everest departs for
planetside for some overdue resupply and shore leave. Erebus
maintains orbit and will switch places with Everest in a few days.
On January 21st Denali and Shasta break orbit and set
course for the 'e' orbit. The plan is to briefly orbit 51 Pegasi
(e), a large, uninhabited ice planet with a single moon. They reach
their destination on the 23rd, briefly survey 'e', and
begin a drift just outside of the 'e' orbit, at 19 AU from the
star. In addition to their normal watches, the technical crews of
both ships are still enthusiastically working on the upgraded gear.
If all goes well, Denali and Shasta will return to 'c' on April
4th.
Six remotes are deployed at 2.5
million kilometers, keeping them inside of the 3-million-kilometer
range of the QCS188 units on board the remotes, in a pattern that
provides spherical coverage for both ships and provides valuable
warning time for anything moving at lightspeed due to their
instantaneous communication with the ships. By January 26th,
the unified tactical system is declared operational, and to avoid
confusion each ship takes every other watch as the primary operator,
alternating at change of watch. More drills, practice, cleaning, and
maintenance occupy both crews as the days pass. Anticipation builds
as February 7th approaches, the date that a reply from
Fleet Command is expected. The novelty of instantaneous
communication with the CA and, with the CA comms section relaying
signals to and from Everest and Erebus in orbit, has not worn off
yet. The commanding officers of the squadron are not strictly
enforcing communications discipline, because it is not subject to
detection and more importantly continues to test the equipment.
On February 7th, Denali
is primary operator on the forenoon watch. PO1 Garza pipes up, "XO,
contact. Emerging jump, Ecliptic plus 38.60, Radial 207.97, Range
3.072 billion kilometers. Assigning Sierra-1029 and starting a
track." Appleton swings the console around to face Tac/Nav, "Any
read yet Garza?" Garza replies, "Plant signature matches courier
AFD-6212, probable course is Charlie. We can expect their
transmission in approximately 2 hours direct, or in 25 minutes via
relay from Charlie." Appleton nods, "Very well, Garza. Carry
on." Appleton buzzes the CO's cabin, "Sir, courier has
arrived. Expect traffic in approximately 25 minutes." Linden
acknowledges, "Very well, XO. Send it to my cabin when received."
Linden reviews routine administrative issues at his desk while
trying to ignore the 25 minutes, somewhat unsuccessfully. At the
predicted time, his comm unit buzzes and a message feed opens with
Captain Stepanov appearing, "Admiral Mendez has received your
communication and is gravely concerned with the fate of Hammersmith,
Matterhorn, and Olympus Mons. We are holding out hope that they may
yet make their way to port, but in the event they do not the
following orders shall take effect:
As senior officer on station,
Lieutenant Veronika Kuznetsov will be commanding officer of the
107th Reconnaissance Squadron; and
The 107th
Reconnaissance Squadron will continue its current mission as best it
is able; and
Given the now 21 ships that are
missing, the 107th Reconnaissance Squadron will query all
ships entering or leaving the system as to their intentions and
strongly advise them against destinations that have resulted in
losses.
Fleet Command is gathering
reinforcements to join the 107th Reconnaissance Squadron.
Be advised it will take some time for reinforcements to arrive but
expect them no later than 30 April 2297. Fleet Command, Admiral
Mendez, and other commands will advise soonest if or when there are
further developments, and we are confident you will do the same.
Godspeed to you all. Message ends."
As Stepanov disappears from the
screen, Linden notices additional routine traffic for his attention.
Among the various messages is a reply to his inquiry regarding other
missing ships. He opens the reply from the Fleet Navigational Hazard
Office and finds that there have been four additional ships reported
missing after jumps from nearby systems, two from Wolf 1225 to GT
Pegasi, the same destination as Hammersmith, one each from LP 463-23
to G 68-5, and 85 Pegasi to G 130-3. Linden was really hoping the
answer would be negative, but no such luck. Just then his screen
prompts him to join a call. Accepting, Kuznetsov, and the other COs
appear. Kuznetsov leads off, "Good morning. I'm so glad we can
have practical live meetings now. Ok, we've all seen Fleet's
reply. No surprises, we keep doing our jobs as we always have. Does
anyone have anything to add?" Lieutenant Bruno of Erebus speaks
up, "April 30th seems like a long time." Singh of
Everest nods agreement. Kuznetsov replies, "It does, but I think
that may be an optimistic estimate. It will take time for Fleet to
identify and dispatch reinforcements. It's not like there are a
lot of ships standing by at Ross 271." Seeing the point, Singh and
Bruno signal their understanding. Linden adds, "I did receive a
reply from Fleet regarding my query about other missing vessels in
the area. Unfortunately, there are an additional four identified. I
have forwarded the traffic for your information. That makes a total
of 25 from this area." Kuznetsov wraps the meeting, "If there is
nothing else? Meeting adjourned."
February passes slowly, as time
tends to do while on a patrol sweep. There is some routine civilian
freighter traffic, and nobody seems to be in a hurry to jump any
further out. Apparently the rumor is spreading through port bars and
hiring halls, with tales getting taller as they go. No further word
arrives from Fleet Command, seeming to confirm Kuznetsov's
appraisal of their relief date, although it is always impossible to
know if there are any ships in jump at any given moment. Colonial
Security has successfully placed quantum keys into ten of the
planetside Mark 34 mini drones they have been issued and are relaying
endless hours of footage into the combined tactical network, so it is
recorded for all posterity. February fades into March, and the
Denali and Shasta patrol sweep is about half done, and thoughts are
beginning to turn to shore leave. As the first week of March passes,
the routine of patrol life continues, with nothing out of the
ordinary happening. On March 10th, a civilian exploration
vessel jumps in system, with the stated intention of going onward to
Xi Pegasi. Kuznetsov gives them the rundown, reading off the names
of all 25 vessels that have gone missing. Although this does seem to
make an impression, it ultimately does not dissuade them from
continuing, and after a brief pause to reset, they jump out. For the
next two weeks, the routine of patrol life prevails.
Part 5
On March 24th, Denali is
the operational control for the forenoon watch. It promises to be
another day of monitoring instruments, cleaning, and maintenance.
Two more weeks until the patrol puts back into Charlie, with shore
leave to follow. The bridge is quiet as the XO looks over the
command console. All the stations are manned, and the crew is deep
in their usual routines. The tactical board signals an event, and
PO2 Hofmann immediately investigates, "Contact. Emerging jump,
Ecliptic plus 11.41, Radial 76.55, Range 27.565 million kilometers.
Assigning Sierra-1087 and starting a track." Appleton swings the
command console to face Hofmann. Hoping perhaps it might be
reinforcements she inquires, "Any read, Hofmann?" Hofmann
pauses, "No match, new ship. Specs and intention unknown. No
course information yet. The power plant looks big, though, high
output." Appleton ponders this for a second, and calls the command
position on Shasta, "Lieutenant Watanabe, what do you make of this
contact?" Watanabe responds after a second, "No information here
either. Let's keep a good eye on it. Everest, Erebus, any
insights?" Singh answers for both, "We haven't seen this one
either." Just then Hofmann pipes up, "Contact. Emerging jump,
Ecliptic plus 23.77, Radial 308.96, Range 1.785 billion kilometers.
Assigning Sierra-1088 and starting a track." Appleton doesn't
have to ask as Hofmann continues, "No match, new ship. Specs and
intention unknown. No course information. Power plant output is
high but not as big as 1087." That's enough for Appleton as she
keys the 1MC klaxon and follows with, "Set Condition Yellow
throughout the ship. CO to the bridge." The other ships follow
suit.
PO1 Thomas and PO2 Garza enter the
bridge, followed shortly after by Linden. Yamato calls out, "CO on
the bridge." Appleton stands up and moves aside, pointing out the
display on the command console, "CO, two unknown contacts have
jumped in with power plants cranking." Linden nods, "Very well,
XO." Appleton drifts over to the now crowded tactical/navigation
station. Linden sits at the command console and notes there are open
lines to the rest of the squadron and quickly checks their status.
Kuznetsov is now on the bridge of Shasta, Singh and Bruno are on
their bridges as well. Thomas, now taking over as primary tactical
pipes up, "Contact. Emerging jump, Ecliptic plus 24.78, Radial
312.71, Range 1.778 billion kilometers. Assigning Sierra-1089 and
starting a track. No match, new ship. Specs and intention unknown.
No course information. Power plant output is high, very similar to
1087. Possibly same type of vessel." Linden inquires, "What are
we looking at with these high output plants?" Thomas replies,
"1087 and 1089 read as 875MW, 1088 read as 460MW." Linden
whistles under his breath. The Mountain class RSSVs pack a whopping
85MW plant. Ten times our output. If these ships are up to no good
this is going to be rough.
Kuznetsov issues orders, "Linden,
get some separation from Shasta, we'll keep the remotes, set out
six more to cover Denali. We'll control your three by relay
through your comms. Singh, Bruno, get undocked and get ready to
move." All commanders acknowledge. Linden turns to Yamato but
doesn't even get the order out before Yamato starts moving off the
bridge with, "Already on it, Sir." Linden notes the weapons
station is already manned, "PO3 Serra, you're early. We weren't
expecting you until Condition Red." Serra smiles, "I'd rather
be early than late, Sir. Standing by to maneuver the remotes as soon
as the Senior Chief gets them out of the hold." Linden smiles,
"Very well, Serra. Carry on. Garza, since Thomas is busy, get us
a diverging course from Shasta, towards the outer system. Clark,
standby to execute." The crew sets about their tasks. Clark pipes
up, "I have the course. Standing by." Linden gives the word,
"Execute course change." Thomas calls out, "Contact. Emerging
jump, Ecliptic plus 23.77, Radial 311.76, Range 1.871 billion
kilometers. Assigning Sierra-1090 and starting a track. No match,
new ship. Specs and intention unknown. No course information."
Serra pipes up, "Remote 4 is free, deploying forward 2.5 million
kilometers. Expected on station in 30 minutes." Linden studies
his display. What the hell goes on here? Mgembe and the sensor
operator on Erebus are in heavy technical discussion. Mgembe offers
some insight into the bogeys, "CO, the power plants on all four
unknowns appear to be fusion type plants based on neutrino
emissions." Linden acknowledges, "Good work. At least it's
something we can wrap our heads around. Thomas, what is the output
on 1090, and are any of the unknowns moving yet?" Thomas
summarizes, "1090's output is the same as 1088, I make it 460MW.
If the unknowns are moving it isn't by much. I am concerned about
the fact that 1088, 1089, and 1090 are clustered together. That's
either a hell of a coincidence, or their jumps are very precise."
Serra pipes up, "Remote 5 is free, deploying aft 2.5 million
kilometers. Expected on station in 30 minutes." Linden
acknowledges, "Very well, Serra. Observation noted Thomas, keep
them coming."
Half paying attention, Linden hears
Kuznetsov on the command circuit updating Commissioner Chaudhary
about the situation. Chaudhury puts the security force on alert, but
it is really only a formality. The security force is a detachment of
lightly armed police, perhaps a hundred strong, and some of them are
out with the researchers in the ruins. Ruins. A cold shiver runs
down Linden's spine. Oh shit. Did we just piss in someone's
sacred burial ground or something? Kuznetsov, on the command
circuit, "Linden, say again, did not copy the last." Linden
snaps back into focus, "Did I say that out loud?" Kuznetsov,
"You mumbled something about a burial ground." Linden, slightly
embarrassed, "Apologies, no bearing on the situation. Did your
tactical people copy Thomas' thoughts?" Kuznetsov replies, "Yes,
if their jumps are that precise, that is not good news. Neither is
the apparent size of those power plants." Serra pipes up, "Remote
6 is free, deploying port 2.5 million kilometers. Expected on
station in 30 minutes." Linden acknowledges, "Very well, Serra."
It is the middle of the night on
Charlie, and at the Colonial Administration building, alarms are
sounding. The Colonial Security personnel assigned to the town are
mustered in Pegasus Multi-purpose Room which usually hosts community
meetings and the like. About 60 uniformed Colonial Security officers
are milling about, some still straightening their uniforms. Someone
has coffee going, and there are plenty of takers. Disposable cups
are starting to accumulate on tables and shelves as they wait for
someone to tell them what is going on. The officers straighten up as
the Commissioner and CS Captain Stevens enter the room. Stevens
addresses the group, "Good morning. We are here this morning
because multiple unknown ships have jumped in system. Their
intentions are unknown at this time, but indications are they are
potentially hostile, and we are treating them as such until we know
otherwise. Be very clear, this is not, repeat not, an exercise. All
personnel will draw rifles, vests, and plenty of ammunition. We will
deploy by squad to the following areas: squads one, two, and three
will patrol the town. Squad four will deploy to the power plant and
set up a perimeter and other defensive positions as required. Squad
five will do the same here in the CA building. Squad six is with me
and we will head to the port and prepare demolitions for any
sensitive Navy equipment in the warehouse and then patrol and defend
the terminal building. Keep in touch, we can't react to things we
don't know about. Keep a lookout for anything unusual and remember
you will see a lot of civilians milling around. There will be plenty
of questions, rumors, and the start of panic. Answer questions as
best you can with information you know to be true. Do the best you
can to squash rumors and keeping calm and professional will be the
best thing we can do to keep the panic down. The Commissioner has
some words. Commissioner."
Chaudhury steps to the fore, "Thank
you Captain. Good morning. We are in constant communication with
the 107th who are doing an excellent job of reporting
information as it happens. This is what we know currently: In the
past two hours 31 unknown vessels have jumped in system. We have no
solid information on their capabilities or intentions; preliminary
analysis indicates these ships do not match anything we've seen
before. They have yet to begin moving, it is unknown what they might
be waiting for." Chaudhury pauses then continues, "I will echo
what the captain has said: answer questions as best you can with
information you know to be true and do the best you can to squash
rumors and keeping calm and professional will be the best thing we
can do to keep the panic down. And I will add, render what assistance
you can as you are able. We are not, and hopefully will never be, in
combat now. Our mission is to help the civilian population as best
we can while keeping our eyes open and preparing to defend if
necessary. Captain?"
The captain continues, "Thank you,
Commissioner. Squads, you have your assignments. Move out!" The
six squads form up on their squad leaders and head out to their
assigned areas. Squad five follows Corporal Malhotra out to the
lobby area and forms up in a semicircle around him. Malhotra
addresses the squad, "Ok, we have our orders. Everyone tune your
squad comms to channel 12, overall comms will remain on the standard
channel. And make sure you are fully charged. We stay in twos,
nobody wanders off. Smith, Gwaltney, find a master key to the
building and unlock every last door in the place. If we are running
down a hallway and have to duck out, I don't want to get hung out
to dry by a locked door. Besides, if this is as serious as it
sounds, locked doors won't be a problem for our visitors only a
pain in our ass. And shut off that damn alarm." Smith and
Gwaltney head off to locate the master key and silence the alarm.
Rogers, Timmons, Garcia, Walters, patrol by twos in a loose perimeter
outside. You remember the last exercise, look for spots you can duck
for cover and places hostiles can approach from. And be sure to let
us know if you're coming in. Chang, Wilson, patrol the interior of
the building. We'll probably see quite a few of the staff coming
in, so don't get jumpy because these civilians will surprise you
coming out of the bathroom. Ok, move out." Almost on cue, the CA
communications staff enters the building. "Robbins, with me."
Malhotra flags down the comms chief, "Fred, we've got a
situation." Malhotra and Robbins escort the comms team to the
comms area as Malhotra explains the situation.
Onboard the Denali, the atmosphere
on the bridge is tense. The 107th has gone to Condition
Red. The atmosphere is not helped by Thomas calling out, "Contact.
Emerging jump, Ecliptic plus 11.36, Radial 76.81, Range 27.507
million kilometers. Assigning Sierra-1119 and starting a track. No
match, new ship. Specs and intention unknown. No course
information." Linden acknowledges, "Very well." Linden
reviews the display on his console. The 32 contacts are clustered
into two groups. The far group, designated group A, has 20 contacts
and the larger power plants, and the nearest group, group B, has 12
contacts with one large and 11 smaller plants. The current analysis
suggests that group A consists of combat vessels, and group B
consists of transports or supply vessels with an escort. Bruno
relays news on the command circuit, "The four civilian vessels at
the downport are lifting for orbit. The nearest clear jump point is
65.7 million kilometers from Charlie; based on known specs the
fastest will get there in 26 hours, the slowest 32 hours. That is
directly towards the far group, so they may vector to clear space
away from the unknowns, adding hours to jump readiness." Kuznetsov
replies, "Very well. Are the couriers moving yet?" Singh
replies, "Affirmative. They are heading for clear jumps away from
the far group and will stand by until ordered to jump or their
situation becomes untenable. Their ETA to jump is 17 hours."
PO1 Thomas calls out, "CO, group A
is moving. They appear to be forming up and probable course is
Charlie. Given the current course and apparent speed, ETA for
Charlie is approximately 10 hours 24 minutes. Group B is moving.
They appear to be forming up but are not changing location."
Linden acknowledges, "Very well." On the command circuit, he
adds, "I guess everyone has showed up to the party and they're
getting down to business. They are really moving, I guess we know
what those power plants are for." Thomas calls out again,
"Correction. The large plant contact from B, Sierra-1087, appears
to be moving away from the group, probable course to intercept Shasta
and Denali. Velocity appears similar to group A." Kuznetsov
acknowledges, "Looks like they've seen us. Let's go dark."
Linden acknowledges, "Aye, Sir. Good thing the quantum comms is a
stealthy as it gets." Turning his attention to the bridge, "Serra,
can the remotes keep up with us for a sprint?" Serra replies,
"They can, Sir. At least for a short while." Linden continues,
"Very well. Stay sharp Serra, we're going to do some fancy
maneuvering. Clark, pick a direction and do a 30 second burn to get
us some velocity. On my signal, after you cut off the mains, pick
another random direction and make course adjustment with maneuver
thrusters only to get us off the original vector, and repeat the
random direction course adjustments from time to time. Understood?"
Clark replies, "Understood, Sir." The main engines engage for
30 seconds and stop. During the 30 second burn Linden contacts the
Chief Engineer, "Chief Braun, prepare to bring the plant down to
standby on my mark." Somewhat surprised, Braun acknowledges, "Aye,
Sir. We'll need about 5 minutes to bring it down. For reference,
our batteries are fully charged, sufficient to run life support and
controls for 48 hours." Linden had known this from his status
display, but it is always good to hear confirmation. Linden gives
the order, "Chief, put out the lights." The engineering gang
hops to it.
On the 1MC, Linden keys the klaxon,
and announces, "Attention all hands. The power plant is being
taken down to standby, brace for zero gravity." As the bridge crew
straps themselves in, Linden checks the chronometer on the board,
"Serra, are our remotes still with us? Clark, standby to execute
thrust." Serra confirms, "Yes, Sir. Remotes are on station."
Clark replies, "Standing by Sir." On schedule, the lights switch
to emergency mode, floor gravity and inertial dampeners shut off, and
indicators and alarms sound on each station and are quickly
acknowledged by the crew. Linden counts down from ten in his head,
and then, "XO, sound collision." Linden pauses while the
collision alarm sounds, then "Clark, execute." The ship's
maneuver thrusters fire and all loose objects take on lives of their
own. Serra fights lateral g-forces to ensure the remotes match the
course change but manages. Yamato floats onto the bridge and hovers
near the command console, "Sir, Cookie is fixing up some coffee in
zero-g bulbs for the bridge crew. They should be here soon."
Linden nods, "Very well, Senior Chief. How are we doing further
back?" Yamato reports, "Everyone is doing just fine, Sir.
Though there might be some bumps and bruises after the last maneuver,
but they'll have figured out how to hang on for the next one."
Linden nods, "Nothing like kissing
a bulkhead to demonstrate physics in action." Linden glances at
his console display and notes Sierra-1087 is still closing on the
general area and should arrive there in just over 10 hours. Mgembe
pipes up, "Sir, we have an optical and thermal image of
Sierra-1087. On your console now." Linden scrolls and zooms the
image. A little grainy, but clear enough to see a large ship, a
fairly compact wedge shape, instruments estimate it at 200 meters in
length and 80 meters at its widest point. The hull does a good job
at concealing any heat signature, but the heat from its drive exhaust
is intense. Linden notes that this is a live image, and the range is
counting down. This will be good intelligence to pass along if we
live that long. Linden acknowledges, "Good work Mgembe, keep it
coming." Cookie floats onto the bridge with a carrier full of
disposable coffee bulbs. A marvel of food service engineering, these
drink containers are designed for coffee. They are spill proof even
in zero-g, well insulated, cool to the touch, have a small battery
that charges from the heat of the contents, two buttons on the lid
introduce cream and sugar flavors into the contents, and the battery
powers a patch of a substance on the bottom of the container that
creates an electron bond with whatever surface it touches, which can
be momentarily released by a button on the side. The bulbs are
gratefully accepted by the bridge crew.
After another two course changes,
the afternoon watch ends, and Shasta takes over as primary, allowing
the Denali bridge crew to function in a support capacity, along with
Everest and Erebus. The bridge watch standers are relieved, and the
XO takes over the command console. Linden floats over to the Tac/Nav
station and takes a look at the official plot. It looks bad for
Charlie; they'll be there in about 2.5 hours. Everest and Erebus
are creeping along with the civilian vessels, shepherding the slowest
ones. If group A decides to do something about them, they are
history unless they abandon the civvies, and even then it would be
tight. Sticking his empty coffee bulb to the back wall of the
bridge, Linden floats down the passageway to his cabin, and racks
out, making sure to deploy the zero-g straps to keep himself from
floating off or getting bounced off of a bulkhead during maneuvers.
The next maneuver happens a couple
of hours into his sleep, but the zero-g straps hold. Linden, now
awake, floats over to his desk and realizes that a desk is not really
designed for zero-g operation. He checks his status feed and finds
that Sierra-1087 continues to close, about 2 hours from where Shasta
and Denali went dark. Group B is now moving on Charlie; they will
arrive sometime tomorrow. Fortunately, Everest, Erebus, and the
slower civvies had taken a longer vector, away from incoming group A,
otherwise they would already be dead, but they are still a good 44
hours from a clear jump. Group A is already in orbit and deployed
around Charlie. The CA comms section is still in touch, so it
appears group A is just securing the area for group B. Linden
realized that first watch has just started, so he isn't due back on
the bridge for another 4 hours. He may as well try to get some
sleep; he'll probably need it. Surprisingly, he is able to drift
off, no doubt helped by his strong confidence in his crew. His alarm
wakes him at 2330, in time to get ready for middle watch. Linden,
realizing a shower is out of the question, dresses and floats down to
the galley, where Cookie is dispensing low crumb count handheld food
and coffee bulbs. Helping himself to some food and a coffee bulb he
floats his way to the bridge. Yamato announces him, "CO on the
bridge!"
Linden floats over to the command
console, "XO, what's the status." Appleton summarizes, "Group
A has taken stations in orbit around Charlie, cleared all of the
communications, weather, and imagery satellites, and set up a
defensive screen in that area, with exception of two probable combat
vessels, Sierra-1104 and Sierra-1105, that are moving to overtake
Everest, Erebus, and the civvies. Unfortunately, their time to a
clear jump is just under 40 hours. The hostiles will overtake them
in about 16 hours. Even if Everest and Erebus abandon the civvies
they will still be overtaken in 32 hours." Linden sees it in
Appleton's face and completely agrees. Once they decided to escort
the civvies this became a no-win for Everest and Erebus. But it is
not that simple. Escorting the civvies is part of the mission and to
leave them to their fate alone is almost unthinkable but so is not
being able to escape and fight another day. Appleton continues,
"Group B is underway and their ETA at Charlie is about 1005 hours.
Closer to home, Sierra-1087 is in the area, range varies but hovers
around 200,000 kilometers, inside of our remote screen. They have
launched 14 remotes, six of them are larger and could be fighters, to
broaden their search. Every so often one of the remotes will go
active with powerful radar and lidar. That reminds me, the breakers
on our active sensors and conventional radios have been opened so we
can't accidently radiate." Linden nods, "Good thinking."
Appleton continues, "We have a jump solution for LP 463-23 in place
if it gets too hairy." The middle watch chime sounds and the crew
swaps places as the first watch team is relieved. Linden and
Appleton switch places as well.
Linden checks in with Shasta, "Good
morning Shasta." Kuznetsov replies, "Good morning Denali. I
assume you're up to speed?" Linden answers, "Yes, at least on
the tactical situation. I'm about to start reviewing any technical
insights we gleaned. It's going to be an interesting day."
Linden knows how careful they need to be about their choice of words
and trying to keep the phrasing at least neutral for the benefit of
their crews. Kuznetsov acknowledges, "Indeed. Incidentally, I
have designated Everest and Erebus as Task Force Charlie. Carry on.
I'll be checking in on Everest and Erebus for about the next 30
minutes while they still have a radio connection to the CA relay.
Shasta out." Linden thinks that it is not a call I never want to
make.
The situation on Charlie feels less
scary in the afternoon sunlight, but it's even more serious now
that hostile ships are in orbit. The Colonial Security patrols
continue, mainly trying to keep order amongst the nervous population.
Rae's Emporium is largely sold out of survival supplies, and many
of the colonists have taken to the jungle to hide out and dig in.
The Commissioner is glad for this, because it gets quite a few folks
away from any fighting. It is unknown what the hostiles want, but
Chaudhury fervently hopes that it is not extermination. Perhaps once
the dust settles, the colonists can carry on some sort of normal
existence. He is somewhat encouraged by the fact that the orbiting
ships have not simply bombarded the colonial settlements into rubble.
He also is cognizant of the sensitive equipment under his care. The
Navy remotes have been wired with enough explosives to bring down the
warehouse, and the QCS192 unit here in the CA building is wired as
well. His box of unused quantum keys rests on top of the unit and
will go up at the same time. The quantum communication units and
keys in the Mark 34 mini drones will be taken care of if the drones
self-destruct. He notes the time and logs into a conference with the
other settlements on Charlie, including the temporary camps for
researchers around the ruins.
Corporal Malhotra and squad five are
continuing their patrols in and around the CA building, swapping the
inside and outside officers to avoid heat-related fatigue, and with
four of the officers on break at any given time. Almost all of the
CA staff are at their desks or scurrying around the building. The
shredders are working overtime, but the sheer volume of accumulated
paperwork is overwhelming them. A bonfire has been started in the
parking lot, and cartloads of paper and everything else deemed
sensitive or that might prove useful to hostile forces is piled on.
Malhotra checks his watch. The latest word is that a second group of
hostile ships will arrive by morning, and speculation is that they
may be troop carriers. He checks his data pad for status updates and
continues his rounds.
Just before 0400, local time, the
port reports it has picked up an additional 11 ships in orbit.
Wilson from his squad wakes up Malhotra who is catching some sleep
with the others on break and relays the news. Shaking the rest of
his squad awake, Malhotra heads for the multi-purpose room where
there are urns of coffee and pastries. Quickly fueling up, he
relieves the next squad members due for a break. May as well have
everyone as fresh as possible. He checks in with the captain, who is
still with squad six at the port to get the latest. The captain
confirms the new ships have arrived, and that there are no changes to
their plan of action. Malhotra steps out into the parking lot,
catching a few breaths of relatively cool fresh air and glancing up
at the stars. He has never gotten used to the night sky here, very
different than the one he grew up with on Nasak Shamiya, 3rd
planet around the star Gamma Serpentis, which is about 36 light years
from Terra and maybe 80 light years from here, and is a younger,
hotter star than Sol. He grew up with heat, but not the humidity
like here in the equatorial jungles of Charlie. After a few more
breaths of fresh air to further wake himself he sets about checking
on his troops.
On Denali, Appleton is at the
console on the bridge on forenoon watch. Middle watch and morning
watch have been uneventful, featuring two more random maneuvers to
confuse Sierra-1087's search efforts. The tactic has been fairly
successful, though 1087 has closed to within 50,000 kilometers of
Shasta, well inside of the screen established by her remotes. 1087's
remotes and fighters are being quite efficient in helping 1087, and a
few are getting closer to Denali. They must have some other type of
sensor that is given them hints at our location, or perhaps the
occasional bursts of radar and lidar from the remotes are returning
just enough of a signal to get them that much closer to pinning us
down. In theory, Mountain class RSSVs have low-observability
technology in the hull design and various coatings and paints, but
after getting scoured by micro, and not so micro, particles in space,
plus throw in an atmospheric landing or two and the efficiency of the
low-observability coatings may be a bit reduced. That's the
theory, anyway, thinks Appleton. Anything to keep her mind off of
the impending doom of Task Force Charlie.
The projection is that the pursuers
will intercept sometime after 1630 today and barring a miracle, that
will be disastrous for them. Group B has already entered orbit
around Charlie but hasn't done much of anything yet. At least the
couriers are at a clear jump point, recording all of the signals that
the CA communications station is relaying. The afternoon watch chime
sounds, and the bridge crew is relieved by their afternoon watch
counterparts. Linden will relieve Appleton for dog watch in 4 hours.
At 1235, Hofmann pipes up, "XO, it looks like Group B is starting
a landing on Charlie."
Part 6
As dawn breaks over the port, the
word goes out from the tower radar controller. The landing is
underway. Over twenty small targets have been spotted coming from
several of the group B ships and beginning their atmospheric
insertion. The captain confirms the information and issues final
instructions to the squads. The primary target area for the landing
appears to be the port and therefore the demolition of the Navy
equipment at the warehouse will take place in 5 minutes. The Mark 34
mini drones are being placed in autonomous mode, which means they
will find hiding spots that will allow them to capture as much
intelligence as possible and relay via quantum to the CA. It also
activates their self-destruct protocols to prevent capture. Malhotra
makes a quick round of the CA building to check on the squad and make
sure everyone is squared away. On schedule, an enormous thud rattles
the CA building as half of the warehouse vanishes in a large
explosion. Malhotra spends the next few minutes explaining the
explosion to worried staffers but is interrupted by his comms unit
informing him that there are fast moving tactical aircraft in the
area, somewhat unnecessarily as during the broadcast the building is
shaken by two fighters streaking over the building at full throttle.
The civilian staffers descend into full blown panic at this point,
and Malhotra realizes he can no longer do anything useful here and
turns his full attention to his squad and their mission.
Malhotra heads out of the building
to check on the perimeter teams. There is anxiety in the faces of
the four security officers. He huddles them up, "Ok, guys this is
for real now. I want you four as one team. Forget the patrolling,
find a good spot to cover the parking lot and the approach to the
building, that's where they will probably be coming from. Don't
get yourselves stuck outside, make sure you'll be able to fall back
inside if you need to." Just then another, or possibly the same,
pair of fighters streak overhead nearly deafening them. They all
reflexively watch them for a few seconds after they pass. They are
relatively familiar in look, and Malhotra thinks that makes sense
given that they are atmospheric craft which pretty much dictates
their design. Recalling some class or other from school, form
follows function. As their attention begins to return to their
huddle, the rumble of three ships landing at the port grabs it again.
These are smaller, dumpy looking vessels, probably troop landers.
Malhotra can't see exactly where they are landing, but it looks
like one of them will be close to the terminal building and the other
two at the near side of the port. While they are watching the
landings, a few staffers hurriedly exit the building and depart in
their vehicles. Malhotra resumes, "Right. Stay on your radios,
you are our eyes out here. The security cameras only tell us so
much. There are still civilians around so be careful. And if you
need to fall back let us know before you do so no jumpy sucker inside
opens up on you on your way in. Anything for me?" Generalized
head shaking provides the answer. Malhotra shakes hands with each
one, and with a determined smile, "See you inside." As he heads
into the building, the sound of small arms fire drifts in from the
port.
On the bridge of Denali, Appleton is
glued to the planetside transmissions that are being relayed via
quantum. The security officers at the port have been engaged by
troops that have landed nearby. Everything seems to be conventional
so far, no weird alien disintegrators as popularized by action vids.
Some small explosions are heard over the audio, sounds like grenades.
The captain is directing his troops calmly, but they are taking
casualties. Just then, Kuznetsov calls on the command circuit, "Good
afternoon Denali." Appleton responds, "Good afternoon, Shasta.
I keep wondering why the hostiles don't seem bothered by the
remotes, do they see them and don't care or have they completely
missed them?" Kuznetsov is calling to make an announcement,
"Unknown, Ensign. I am calling to advise that Shasta will be
powering up and jumping for LP 463-23 as soon as we are able. Our
situation is becoming untenable, Sierra-1087 is too close and once we
start the power up cycle they will be on us, and we'll have to jump
if we live that long. I've spoken my peace to Everest and Erebus
and their crews, and now I will speak to the crew of the Denali."
Appleton is stunned by the news, but rallies, "Before I forward you
to the 1MC, I have a thought that might buy you some time. Since
your remotes aren't going with you, get some more use out of them.
Have one go active, throw some radar or lidar concentrating on 1087,
give them something to worry about. Since it appears they haven't
noticed the remotes, that should make them think there might be
something bigger coming from an unexpected direction." Kuznetsov
takes a second to contemplate, "Ensign, that is an excellent idea.
Let's hope it works. In any case, put me on the 1MC."
Appleton replies, "I'll lead in
for you," switching the 1MC, "Attention all hands, this is the
XO. Lieutenant Kuznetsov of Shasta, Commander of the 107th
Reconnaissance Squadron, wishes to address the crew of Denali.
Lieutenant." Appleton switches the command circuit to the 1MC.
Kuznetsov speaks, "Good afternoon Officers and Crew of Denali. The
position of Shasta has become untenable, and we will be forced to
power up shortly. This will bring us to the direct attention
Sierra-1087, but I believe we will be able to jump before they are
able to get close enough to destroy us. I know this will seem like
we are abandoning this fight, but I assure you this is the furthest
thing from our hearts. We have served alongside Denali for only a
short while and in that time we have come to know you as our
shipmates. As Squadron Commander, I have certainly come to rely on
Denali, and now I ask that you carry on as you always have, with your
usual efficiency and professionalism, gather as much intel as you
can, and make a record of what happens in this system for as long as
you can. I wanted these thoughts to be on record on Denali as well
as Shasta in case the worst happens. I am confident we will ship out
together again. Godspeed Denali and all who sail in her. Shasta
out." Linden joins the 1MC from his cabin, "Lieutenant
Kuznetsov, on behalf of Denali, I thank you for your words of
encouragement and recognition. Godspeed to Shasta and all who sail
in her."
Shortly after, Hofmann pipes up,
"Shasta is powering up. Sierra-1087 and her nearby remotes are
maneuvering towards her position. Wow. Er, sorry XO, one of
Shasta's remotes just went active. Radar and lidar has painted
Sierra-1087 and she has changed her course and appears to be engaging
in evasive maneuvers." Appleton smiles, "Very well, Hofmann."
Appleton notes the time and calculates it will be 1400 before Shasta
is powered up by the book, maybe 1330 if she cuts corners, which
they'd be fools not to, and they're not fools. Hofmann
continues, "Shasta is using maneuver thrusters for an evasive
pattern as well. One of 1087's remotes, Romeo-1087.3 is closing on
Shasta fast; ETA is 25 minutes. A second remote, Romeo-1087.7 is
closing as well, but it is further away; ETA is 45 minutes."
Appleton thinks, damn, and acknowledges Hofmann, "Very well. How
close are our visitors?" Hofmann responds, "Romeo-1087.4 and
Romeo-1087.5 are closest, at 206,804 and 208,977 kilometers. The
others appear to be looking elsewhere. Romeo-1087.9, .10, and .11
are clustered together further back at 1.102 million kilometers.
Romeo-1087.12, .13, and .14 are also clustered further out but are
now moving towards Shasta. Based on behavior, I make them out to be
fighters." Appleton agrees, "I concur. Re-designate targets
Romeo-1087.9 through .14 as Foxtrot-1001 to Foxtrot-1006 and run
individual tracks." Hofmann acknowledges, "Aye, Sir."
Malhotra gets a call from the
facility manager's office, "Corporal, we pointed the security
cameras westward up Port Road, and we can see a couple vehicles
moving down the road towards us. It's tough to tell, but they seem
to be tracked armored personnel carrier types and look to have
machine guns mounted. It looks like there may be, no make that there
is, at least one vehicle moving cross country parallel to the road as
well. They seem to be checking every building along the way."
Malhotra replies, "Thanks for the update, Jackie. Can you see
who's in the vehicles?" The facility manager, pauses, then
responds, "They're closed topped but when they exit to clear
buildings we get a glance. Zoom is at maximum, and we don't have
very good detail, but they look about our size probably wearing
combat armor. I'd put odds on assault rifles or some sort of long
arm for weapons." Impressed by the detail of the intel, Malhotra
signs off, "Ok, Jackie. Keep it coming." Most of the civilian
staff have evacuated the building by now, a lot fewer cars in the
lot, less cover for the hostiles. The staff that have stayed behind
have dug in and very contrary to CA policy brought personal firearms
from home. Malhotra admires the spirit but knows it does not end
well for them. The hostiles brought personnel carriers to a
gunfight. And a hell of a lot more guns.
Malhotra relays the news to his
squad and the others at the power plant and patrolling the town.
About ten minutes later, the outside team reports hearing the
personnel carriers approaching the intersection of Port Road and Main
Street and grinding through the brush on either side. A tracked
vehicle breaks though the brush on the west side of Main Street
directly opposite the CA building and halts. Another carrier pokes
into the intersection of Port Road and Main Street, about 100 meters
south of the CA building parking lot entrance, and yet another breaks
the tree line a further 100 meters or so south on Main Street and
halts. The outside team is under full cover at this point but risks
a stealthy look. Ten hostiles disembark from the carrier in the
intersection and storm across a small lawn and into the utility
building on the northwest corner of Port Road and Main Street. The
outside team's nerve seems to be holding, but Malhotra knows they
are now in an untenable position and is about to bring them inside
when ten hostiles exit the carrier directly opposite the building and
advance at a run across Main Street. The outside team opens fire
when the hostiles hit the edge of the parking lot. They score a few
hits, and the hostile squad hits the deck returning fire.
The hostiles in the utility building
open up to support their pinned comrades, peppering the area around
the outside team. The personnel carriers open fire with their
machine guns, and the outside team is killed almost instantly. The
pinned hostiles, down three soldiers, resume their rapid advance
across the parking lot. Malhotra curses the loss, but quickly
recovers, and directs his remaining teams to converge to cover the
lobby. He and Wilson take positions that will allow them to fall
back towards the communications station. The other two teams take
positions at other corridors and peer around corners ready to engage
anyone who comes in through the door. The personnel carrier directly
across the street fires its machine gun through the lobby doors,
shattering the glass and causing the teams to duck back around their
various corners. While they are recovering, a grenade bounces into
the lobby from outside, going off with a loud bang and showering the
lobby with shrapnel, injuring one of the defenders. Before the echo
dies down, the remnants of the hostile squad crash through the
remnants of the doors and pour automatic fire into the lobby area.
As the defenders fire their weapons blindly around corners into the
lobby, a burst of heavy machine gun fire from the intersection
shatters windows along the south side of the building. Crashing
furniture in the offices that line that wall betrays the squad of
hostiles entering the building through the newly made openings.
Shortly after, a shout and what sounds like a few pistol shots
followed by a short burst from an assault rifle tells Malhotra
everything he needs to know about the fate of one of the staff.
As he changes the magazine in his
rifle, Malhotra updates the rest of the squads as to the situation.
He hears the carrier across the street rev up and grind onto Main
Street, followed by a second carrier, and head further north up the
street. As he points his weapon blindly around the corner into the
lobby, fighters streak over the building again, causing an
involuntary duck for cover. About two seconds later the massive
sharp crack of a substantial amount of high explosives knocks him to
the ground. Recovering, he fires blindly around the corner. On the
radio, he orders his teams to fall back to more tenable positions.
Fortunately, nobody is stuck between the lobby and the breached south
side of the building. "C'mon Wilson! We're moving back to the
stairwell." Malhotra and Wilson run at full tilt down the corridor
and duck around the corner of the stairwell to the second floor. The
stairwell entrance is about 25 meters north along the corridor from
their previous location, and they cover the corridor to the lobby
opening, waiting for someone to peek around the corner. Within 30
seconds, someone obliges, drawing fire from Malhotra and Wilson, but
they are quick and manage to pull back before any bullets find their
mark. Anticipating the next thing to happen, Malhotra taps Wilson on
the shoulder, and they head up the stairs and as they turn the corner
at the landing and start up the second flight a grenade bounces down
the corridor and detonates at the base of the stairs. They are
stunned by the blast, but unharmed by shrapnel. Picking themselves
up, they scramble up the remaining steps and into the second-floor
corridor. Both Malhotra and Wilson take the opportunity to change
magazines and share a concerned look.
Malhotra tries to raise the other
teams but can only contact Timmons and Garcia. They report that they
made it to the corridor along the north side of the building. "Ok,
be ready to break a window and bail if you have to. Continue as best
you can." Timmons and Garcia acknowledge. Malhotra checks in with
the squads around town. The report is that squad two engaged an
enemy squad, but air support put a bomb into their position, likely
killing the entire squad. Squads one, three, and four are preparing
to head out into the jungle and carry on from there. Malhotra nods
silently. Probably the best move. He turns to Wilson, but Wilson,
seeing the look on his face cuts him off, "Forget it. I may be
detached from the Marines, but General Order 5 still applies: I will
quit my post only when properly relieved. So just forget it. What
now?" Malhotra nods, "Ok, here's the thing. The most
important thing in this building is the communications center. We
head there, see if we can build a barricade to keep it operational as
long as possible." Wilson grins, "Now that's a plan." The
two run down the hallway to the far northeast corner that houses the
communications center. They come up short as Fred the communications
supervisor brandishes a shotgun. Fred looks immensely relieved, "I
damn near shot you guys!" Malhotra responds for both, "I'm
glad you didn't. Fred, put that ridiculous thing down, it won't
do a bit of good. Are the comms still up?" Fred lowers the
shotgun, and leans it in the corner by the door, "Sure are. I've
got every last feed coming into here and getting relayed by quantum
to Shasta and Denali, radio, voice, video, security cameras, the mini
drones. Everything." Malhotra nods, "Great. Me and Wilson are
going to try to keep you in business as long as possible."
Part 7
Linden joins Appleton on the bridge
but remains floating as he is not due until 1600 for dog watch. He
hovers near the Tac/Nav station, much to the discomfort of Hofmann.
Appleton notes that 20 minutes have elapsed since Romeo-1087.3 began
closing on Shasta. Another 5 minutes until interception. At least
Shasta is still making evasive maneuvers. That has got to make
engineering's job 10 times harder, getting bounced around like that
trying to get a plant up to speed. Appleton's thoughts are rudely
interrupted by Mgembe, "XO! Probable nuclear detonation!"
Appleton, takes a beat, sees Linden start to drift over to the
sensors station, and prompts for more information, "Mgembe, take a
breath, and calmly tell me what's happening." Mgembe takes a
second, "Yes, Sir. XO, there has been a probable nuclear
detonation in the 40-kiloton range at the last known position of
Romeo-1087.3. I am sending the optical feed from the incident to
your console." Appleton acknowledges, "Very well." She calls
Shasta on the command circuit, and gets Watanabe, "Denali, we just
had a damn close call. Some sort of nuke went off nearby."
Appleton starts viewing the footage as she inquires, "Any damage?"
Watanabe responds, "Some popped breakers from EMP, but otherwise
we're good." As Appleton watches the footage, she sees it was a
closer call than Watanabe realizes. A massive beam of energy left
the remote a split second before it was consumed in a sphere of
nuclear destruction. It looks like a lot of the blast's energy got
focused into a beam that missed Shasta by approximately 200 hundred
meters. If that had connected it would have punched a hole clean
through the ship or even ripped it to shreds, and likely instantly
and fatally irradiated any crew who were able to survive the initial
hit. Doing a quick mental comparison, if only half the detonation
energy had gotten focused into the beam, that beam would have had
slightly more energy than the bomb that destroyed Hiroshima 350 years
ago. A shudder runs down her spine as she breaks the bad news to
Watanabe, "Lieutenant, check the sensor optical footage of the
detonation. It was closer than you think." A minute later, a
shaken sounding Watanabe replies, "I see what you mean, Ensign.
Fortunately, Romeo-1087.7 is still 20 minutes from that range. I've
stopped our evasive maneuvers to allow engineering to make better
headway in getting our plant online. We will resume in 18 minutes if
we are still not ready to jump." Appleton responds, "Acknowledged
Shasta. Denali out."
Linden floats over to the command
console with a carefully concealed look of concern. No words need to
be exchanged. This is something the TMF Navy is not ready for.
Appleton is keeping a sharp eye on the remotes in their area, but
even at their high speed they are more than an hour from Denali. If
we have to go, we should be able to jump before they get close. Just
then Yamato floats onto the bridge with a carrier full of coffee
bulbs. Linden regards this unusual scene, "Senior Chief, did you
get busted down to mess assistant?" With a grin Yamato floats a
couple bulbs towards the console, "Never happen, Sir. I'm giving
Cookie a hand. She's making coffee rounds in the aft sections."
Linden snags the bulbs and hands one to Appleton, and with a smile,
"Carry on, Senior Chief." About 10 minutes later, Mgembe pipes
up, "XO, Shasta has her plant online, showing full power."
Appleton acknowledges, "Very well." The command circuit comes to
life, with Kuznetsov speaking, "Denali, we are taking our leave.
Hang on as long as you can, bring home all of the intel we'll miss
out on. All boards are green, we're underway in 30 seconds.
Godspeed." Linden returns the sentiment, "Godspeed Shasta."
The command circuit goes dead and Shasta's remotes self-destruct,
causing some additional concern among the hostiles. A few seconds
later Shasta jumps. A sudden feeling of loneliness descends over the
officers, but Linden puts it in perspective out loud for the benefit
of the bridge crew, "Here we are, doing what Denali was built to
do, lurking around in hostile space, doing reconnaissance, soaking up
intelligence, intercepting signals. Our batteries are good until
about 1100 tomorrow, so unless the hostiles get wise, that's what
we do until then."
Malhotra and Wilson hurriedly drag
furniture from nearby offices into the hallway to construct a
barricade about 5 meters down from the communications station. They
know they don't have a lot of time, but they are trying to make the
barricade as bullet-proof as possible, given the limited materials
they have to work with. Wilson tosses some chairs down the hallway.
Malhotra, while setting the desks in a two deep row with a small
library's worth of books between them to absorb energy, looks
sideways at Wilson. Wilson explains, "Just one more thing for them
to trip over on the way down the hallway, and besides the stairwell
is 25 meters away and they'll have to sidearm grenades around the
corner which means the grenades will be bouncing along the floor.
Hopefully they get hung up in the chairs further down the hallway."
Malhotra nods, "Good thinking." The barricade is as complete as
it will ever be, and the sound of boots on the stairway indicate
imminent action. Wilson stations himself at the right side of the
barricade, which offers the best view of the stairs on the left side
of the hallway. A burst of small arms fire from downstairs and
shattering glass without answering fire means Timmons and Garcia got
backed into a corner and have extracted out the north side of the
building. Malhotra risks a move back to the north wall and peeps
over the windowsill to see Timmons and Garcia heading across the lawn
into the commercial buildings to the north. At least they're
clear. Malhotra ducks back down and moves back to the barricade.
Using intuition and reflexes learned
in the Marines, Wilson fires a short burst at the stairwell just as a
hostile looks around the corner, catching them squarely in the head.
The body hits the floor and is instantly dragged back out of view.
Wilson advises Malhotra, "Stand by for grenades." Malhotra
hunkers down, and Wilson fires at the stairwell hoping to disrupt a
grenade throw, which he does, the grenade lands a mere 10 meters from
the stairwell and explodes before it even reaches the chairs.
Shrapnel peppers the barricade but does no substantial damage.
Malhotra offers thanks to the inventor of adaptive ear protection
because in his estimation they would have been deaf in the lobby.
Malhotra taps Wilson shoulder, "I'm going to check on Fred."
Wilson acknowledges, "Roger that. Stay low!" Malhotra nods and
duck walks back to Fred's door. Once around the corner he
straightens up and sees Fred busy at work coordinating the various
feeds that are being sent to Denali. Fred speaks up, "Big picture:
Shasta got made and she jumped, Denali is still out there drinking it
all in. Everest and Erebus are still escorting the civvies, but
they're done for, the poor bastards. Closer to home, the security
cameras are down." Malhotra crosses to the east window and looks
down, glad to see lawn, "Fred, are those charges on a timer?"
Fred nods, "Yep. I sure don't want to be here to press a
button." Malhotra takes a couple steps back from the window and
shouts, "Wilson! This is just me! Fred, cover your ears!"
Malhotra fires a burst from his rifle at the east window, shattering
the glass. A surprised looking Fred glances inquisitively at
Malhotra, who explains, "Fred, that's our way out once you set
the timer. Wilson, on your six!" Malhotra heads back into the
hallway, ducking low.
He slides in behind the barricade
just in time for a burst of fire from the far south end of the
hallway. Malhotra props his rifle on the edge of the desk in front
of him and keeping under cover fires blindly down the hallway.
Wilson drops down to avoid the scattering of rounds impacting the
barricade and walls around them. Having emptied his magazine,
Malhotra withdraws his rifle and reloads. The hostiles at the
stairwell take advantage of the suppressing fire from the far end of
the hallway and manage much more accurate throws for two grenades.
The twin explosions obliterate the chairs and shred the frontmost
desks. Wilson and Malhotra fire blindly over the remaining desks
hoping to catch the hostiles coming into the hallway. A hail of
return fire tells them they were not entirely successful.
Near the smoldering ruins of the
small office building where squad two perished, a Mark 34 mini drone
is hunkered down in the debris. The Mark 34 is roughly spherical,
about 0.5 meters in diameter, with a small gravitic plate allowing it
to hover and move over any terrain, adjustable camouflage, solar
cells, a small multi-format electrical probe for recharging from a
number of standard connectors and is packed with various sensors
designed to record an impressive variety of reconnaissance and
intelligence data. It is equipped with a QCS188 quantum communicator
in addition to conventional radio. The Mark 34 is run by a limited
AI operating system, which has the ability to plan reconnaissance,
avoid capture, and if that fails, wipe all data and self-destruct.
This particular Mark 34 has decided to name itself Billy, for reasons
even Billy doesn't comprehend. Billy has detected probable hostile
movement to the north of its current position, heading southbound
towards the CA building. Billy scrunches further down in the rubble
and waits, focusing its instruments along the alleyway between
buildings. Inside of a minute, a hostile fire team makes their way
from the cluster of taller office buildings along the narrow
alleyway. Billy captures video in several different spectra as well
as audio and intercepts of their tactical communications. The
hostiles do not spot the drone and continue on. Billy feels
simulated happiness as it transmits all of the data via quantum to
the CA QCS192 unit.
On the bridge of Denali, PO1 Garcia
gets a call from CA communications. The data feeds from the CA have
been excellent, providing much valuable intelligence. The CA
operator, Fred, relays their status, "Hey Isabelle, it's Fred.
We're backed into a corner here, and it looks like we've only got
a couple minutes before we blow the demolitions here. One thing I
just saw from a drone feed blows my mind. Take a look at drone 4's
feed. Anyway, it's been a pleasure working with you guys. Hope we
meet up again." Garcia mists up a little, "We'll be back as
soon as we can. Vaya con Dios Fred." The sounds of gunfire in the
background underscore the urgency of the situation. Fred signs off,
"CA out." The data feeds continue, but it is clear that it will
not be for long.
At what is left of the barricade,
Malhotra and Wilson have fallen back to the door of the
communications room. A grenade hits the floor just inside the
barricade, and Malhotra and Wilson dive out of the doorway and prone
into the room. Wilson takes some shrapnel in his calf but manages to
get himself up on one knee and fires out the door to discourage
anyone who might feel like stepping across the wreckage of the
barricade. Malhotra shouts, "Fred! Start the timer! 15 seconds!"
Fred hops up, for the first time notices a hefty gash in his left
arm but taps in 00:15 and presses start. Fred shouts, "Wilson!
Clock is running!" Malhotra drags Fred to the window, "Out you
go Fred. Wilson! Now!" Fred climbs through the frame, and after
a half second hesitation jumps onto the lawn below. Wilson empties
his magazine out the door and dashes for the window and practically
dives out, followed immediately by Malhotra. Fred is heading east
towards some thick shrubbery that lines the building across the east
lawn. Malhotra begins helping Wilson limp at high speed towards the
same spot, hopefully they can get a little cover and get their
bearings, as a massive explosion obliterates the northeast corner of
the building, showering debris and shrapnel across the lawn.
Malhotra is knocked down by a chunk of masonry that caught him
squarely in the back. Wilson grabs his collar and hoists him to his
feet, and they continue to the shrubbery. Malhotra knows he has
broken a couple of ribs for sure, and the gash in Wilson's calf
looks bad, but it is fortunately a flesh wound. Fred has torn off
one of his sleeves and is tying it around the shrapnel wound on his
arm. Wilson quickly glances at Fred's arm, "Did your sweater
vest get injured at all?" Fred grins and tears off his other
sleeve and hands it to Wilson, "Here you go Wilson. Well, now what
for Team Quantum?"
Part 8
Garcia pipes up, "XO, the CA
quantum feed has gone dark. I think that's the end of it for good.
Before signing off their last status update, they mentioned we
should take a look at the feed from drone 4. I haven't had time to
review it yet." Appleton acknowledges, "Very well, Garcia. I'll
check it on my console." Appleton sifts through the enormous
amount of raw intelligence data and finds the drone 4 feed. She fast
forwards through the routine looking data from earlier in the day and
slows down as things begin to happen. Linden sips from his coffee
bulb as he leans in to get a look as well. The drone has focused on
an office building that Appleton recognizes from her recon around
town. A squad of CA Security officers dash inside from Main Street,
take up positions, and exchange fire with out of frame hostiles.
After about a minute of the skirmish, the almost deafening sound of
aircraft overhead is followed by a devastating high explosive
detonation that levels the building. The drone is knocked around but
steadies itself. Linden shakes his head, "Those poor bastards.
They never had a chance." The footage continues with the drone
maneuvering along the alley east of the destroyed building and taking
cover in the wreckage. A bit of fast forwarding later, some figures
approach down the alley. At first Appleton thinks they are CA
Security, or civilians fleeing, but they are wearing combat armor.
And they are blue.
Appleton and Linden stare at the
image for some time. Appleton finally speaks quietly, "CO, what am
I looking at?" Linden looks for a few seconds more, but the image
doesn't change, and he quietly replies, "The same thing I am.
Four blue humans with black hair wearing combat armor with assault
rifles working their way down an alley." Linden checks the imagery
data, trying to remember his academy imagery class. The hue and
saturation values read as normal, so blue skin is not a corruption of
the image or odd choice of optical filter by the drone. The
questions start to pile into his mind and combined with the ruins
begin to multiply. Linden immediately tags the drone 4 data as
classified, limiting access to Linden, Appleton, Kuznetsov, and
Watanabe. Getting a grip before it gets the better of him, Linden
calls out to tactical, "Hofmann, where are hostile units in
relation to us?" Hofmann replies, "Romeo-1087.4 is local plane
+15.66, local radial 178.65, range 274,365 kilometers, Romeo-1087.5
is local plane -24.01, local radial 214.44, range 237,989 kilometers.
Foxtrot-1001, -1002, and -1003 are clustered together at local plane
+34.21, local radial 95.12, range 1.064 million kilometers. Closest
contact is Romeo-1087.5, and at best observed speed is 51 minutes
out." Linden was not expecting a detailed report but thinks maybe
there's something in my voice. I'll have to watch that, "Very
well. Good work Hofmann. Advise if any of the contacts breaks the
45-minute line." Hofmann acknowledges, "Aye, Sir." Linden
notes that the ranges on the remotes have opened some, probably just
part of their search pattern. With the CA offline, Denali settles
into their more traditional reconnaissance and intelligence gathering
modes, plotting hostile moves, optical observation, and
communications intercepts. The dog watch chime sounds, and the
afternoon watch are relieved by the dog watch. Linden replaces
Appleton at the console.
The pursuit of Task Force Charlie is
drawing to its agonizing conclusion. The pursuing elements of group
A, Sierra-1104 and Sierra-1105, are within 40 minutes of
interception. The mood is grim as the bridge crew watches the gap
close. Garza at tactical pipes up, "CO, it appears Sierra-1104 has
launched remotes, designating Romeo-1104.1 and Romeo-1104.2,
tracking. They are moving fast; probable intercept time is 15
minutes." Linden acknowledges, "Very well, Garza." Addressing
the sensor op, "Hartmann, do we have visual?" Hartmann replies,
"Yes, Sir. We're optically tracking Task Force Charlie as well
as Sierra-1104 and Sierra-1105. Be advised that at this range, 2.906
billion kilometers, the image is of poor quality and 2 hours and 42
minutes out of date." Linden nods, "Very well, Hartmann."
Garza pipes up, "CO, Everest and Erebus have changed course to meet
the incoming. Intercept time for the Romeos is now 5 minutes."
Linden shakes his head. Last stand. What else can you do? It beats
getting run down. Linden replies, "Very well, Garza." Garza
swears inaudibly under her breath then, "CO, two neutrino events,
probably nuclear detonations at last known positions of Romeo-1104.1
and Romeo-1104.2. Everest's plant is offline. Erebus is
continuing, based on emissions their plant is operating at 60
percent, and dropping fast. Erebus is now offline. No further
information." Linden nods, "Very well, Garza." Linden thinks,
I guess it's up to the visuals to write the obituary. If we have 2
hours and 42 minutes remaining in this system. Garza has additional
information, "CO, the couriers have jumped, and Sierra-1104 has
deployed what appears to be a medium sized craft, designating
Foxtrot-1007 and tracking. It is closing on the baby ducks, er,
sorry Sir, civilian vessels, ETA is 10 minutes."
This is different, thinks Linden,
"Very well, Garza." Appleton voices similar thoughts, "CO,
this is different. They might be trying to board the civilians."
Linden nods, "Hopefully their intent is humanitarian. Now all we
have to do is hang on for another 3 hours to get the final
transmissions and visuals from Task Force Charlie. We won't do any
more course changes until we jump, so we don't accidentally tip our
hand. XO, go back to engineering and put them on notice we'll be
doing a power-up within the next 3 hours. It is doubtful they'll
have the full hour." Appleton starts floating towards the
passageway, "Aye, Sir."
An hour passes, and Sierra-1087
continues her efforts to locate Denali. Sierra-1087 appears to be
concentrating her efforts closer to Shasta's last location,
possibly assuming the ships were in a relatively tight formation.
Garza pipes up, "CO, Romeo-1087.4 and Romeo-1087.5 are moving,
course is towards Sierra-1087. She may be recalling her remotes.
Foxtrot-1001, -1002, and -1003 are holding, and range is unchanged at
1.064 million kilometers." Linden nods, "Very well." Linden
mentally reviews their situation. This is encouraging, but I've
got a nasty suspicion that they're trying to encourage us to power
up so those fighters hanging out can pounce. Including Sierra-1087,
there are 21 combat ships, plus their remotes and fighters in the
system. If they make a concerted effort to find us they can force us
so far out that we won't really be able to gather any useful
intelligence. Plus, we need to power up every 48 hours to recharge
our batteries and our plant signature will light us up and they'll
be able to get a good idea where to start looking. The footage from
drone 4 pops back into the forefront of Linden's thoughts. Yeah,
that's huge, probably much more important than anything else we can
gather dodging the hostiles for another month.
Linden re-focuses on the bridge as
Yamato proffers a coffee bulb, "Sir?" Linden gratefully accepts
it, "Thank you, Senior Chief." Linden does some quick math in
his head; 1 hour and 42 minutes until the last look at Task Force
Charlie, another 10 minutes or so to see what went down with the
civilian vessels, call it 2 hours. Linden turns to Yamato, "Senior
Chief, we will begin to power up at 1926 and jump for LP 463-23 at
1956 hours or as soon as possible after that. Make a round of every
compartment, get them as ready as they can be without the power
plant, advise soonest if there is any reason we won't be able to
jump on that schedule." Yamato snaps to it, "Yes, Sir. On it."
As Yamato drifts off the bridge, Linden checks with navigation,
"Garza, is the jump solution for LP 463-23 current?" Garza
replies, "Yes, Sir. Ready to go." Linden acknowledges, "Very
well, Garza." Another hour passes, and Sierra-1087's remotes
continue their return journey. The fighters are still standing by.
Yamato returns to the bridge and reports to Linden, "Sir, all
compartments will be ready on schedule." Linden nods, "Good
work, Senior Chief." Linden checks in with the weapons station,
"Serra, be ready to destruct the remotes before we jump." Serra
acknowledges, "Yes, Sir. Destruct key is slotted." Linden
acknowledges, "Very well."
About 15 minutes before the
scheduled power up, Hartmann at the sensor station pipes up, "CO,
the optical feed of Task Force Charlie is getting close. Sending the
feed to your console." Linden nods, "Very well, Hartmann," and
zooms in on the video feed. Considering the feed shows events almost
3 billion kilometers distant, it is surprisingly detailed. Linden
was expecting to see mere points of light, but he is able to
distinguish larger details of Everest, Erebus, and the civilian
vessels. He remembers this is the first long range optical feed he
has seen since the upgrades. Suddenly Everest and Erebus come about
to confront their pursuers. They appear to be moving at flank speed,
closing the distance rapidly. Just then two blinding flashes appear
as 1104.1 and 1104.2 detonate. The concentrated beams find their
marks, and Everest is hit amidships and tumbles out of control as the
last spasms of power randomly reach her drives. Erebus fares
marginally better, losing a substantial portion of the port side
hull. She carries on defiantly for a few moments until she too
succumbs to power plant failure, and the probable death of her crew.
Linden takes a deep breath, slowly shaking his head. It occurs to
him that Sierra-1087 is just hearing about these events, assuming
they are using radio or laser communications. Will that change their
disposition? Linden is about to inquire, but Garza speaks up first,
"CO, Sierra-1087 has changed course, generally towards us but not
directly, range is 2.651 million kilometers. Romeo-1087.4 and
Romeo-1087.5 have slowed, current range is 745,307 kilometers.
Foxtrots are now moving as a unit, again generally in our direction
but not directly, range is down to 998,430 kilometers." Linden
sighs, "Very well, Garza." Hartmann pipes up, "CO, optical of
the Foxtrots shows they have fired what looks like missiles. Total
of six inbound. There are no corresponding power or radiological
signatures, so analysis suggests they are conventional in nature."
Linden checks the clock and decides it is close enough.
Linden keys the intercom to
engineering, "Engineering, bring the power plant back online as
quickly as possible. Can you burn remaining battery to power the
lasers if need be?" Engineering responds, "Affirmative, Sir."
Linden keys the 1MC, "Attentional all hands. Prepare for gravity
with no notice. Continue preparations for the jump. That is all."
Linden contemplates the events of the past hour and thinks that the
hostiles may have read the situation, that Denali was staying on
station to discover the fate of Task Force Charlie. Linden is coming
to realize that they are fighting a human or human-like opponent, so
cultural differences aside there will be a lot of the same
motivations and patterns of thought, which can help and hinder at the
same time. Based on what he's seen, Linden also understands the
hostiles are not new to naval and ground combat. He makes a note to
record these thoughts after they're in jump space for the eventual
debrief. Hartmann pipes up, "CO, we have an estimate on the speed
of the missiles, their ETA is 27 minutes." Linden suppresses his
dismay, "Very well, Hartmann." Linden keys the intercom to
engineering, "Chief, we'll need those batteries for the lasers."
Chief Braun hurriedly responds, "Already cross connected, Sir.
Anything else, Sir?" Linden replies, "No. Carry on, Chief,"
and disconnects. Turning to the weapons station, Linden notices the
safety cover is already open and the weapons key is slotted. For the
record, "Serra, weapons are free. You are authorized to go active
with remote and shipboard radars as required." Serra stands and
heads for the breaker panel to re-enable the radar, "Aye, Sir. I
understand weapons are free and active sensors are authorized."
Garza pipes up, "CO, Sierra-1087
has increased her speed, course is now intercept, ETA approximately 3
hours. Romeos-1087.4 and .5 are now closing as well, ETA is 63
minutes. The Foxtrots are still in formation, moving to intercept,
ETA 53 minutes." "Very well, Garza," responds Linden. A quick
calculation places the missiles in range of point defense weapons
about two minutes before interception, and about 4 minutes before
they can realistically jump. Tempted as he is to start evasive
maneuvers, Linden knows that will only slow down the engineering
crew, and likely not make much of a tactical difference. The
countdown clock continues to run. Hartmann pipes up, "CO, the
missiles have opened up their formation, looks like for better
coverage. ETA is on schedule. Serra, the track is feeding to the
solution computer." Serra acknowledges, "Copy Hartmann. CO, I
am computing longest possible range solutions, hoping we can cut them
down a bit before they get too close and overwhelm countermeasures."
Linden confirms, "Very well, Serra. Do whatever makes sense."
Suddenly alarms sounds on several consoles. Hartmann silences his
alarm, "CO, we are painted by active radar, six sources,
corresponds to inbound missiles." Serra shouts, "Going active!"
Between the missiles themselves radiating a huge amount of radio
energy, and Denali beaming ten times as much back at them, their
positions and courses become known within a meter.
The missiles are still at the limit
of the point defense system's capability, but the fire control
computer has taken in all information at its disposal and calculated
all possible variables and planned a coverage pattern that has the
highest probability of impacting the nearest missile. It has been
instructions to fire when the computed solution has 90 percent
confidence of success, the latest millisecond-old solution has 94.216
percent confidence, and the system fires the pulse lasers in the
calculated pattern. Serra shouts, "Engaging!" The lasers fire
806 pulses in the next second, aiming mainly for the predicted
position of the body of the missile, but also covering a little
behind, to the sides, and some 100 or so pulses in a short expanding
cone along the expected vector of travel in case it tries to evade.
Hartmann, watching the optical feed, confirms a solid connection.
The image of the approximately 10 meter long by 1 meter in diameter
missile tumbling out of control, with perhaps 20 or more still
glowing holes scattered around the length of its body, some leaking
liquids or gases, confirms a good hit. The fire control computer
selects the next highest priority target, based on proximity to the
ship and the likelihood of success, and repeats the exercise, with
similar results, and continues through the other inbounds. Serra and
Linden come to the same conclusion at the same time; one missile will
get through. Linden shouts, "Sound collision!" The pilot,
Clark, jabs the alarm button on her console and knowing there is
nothing to lose also fires lateral thrusters at full. The collision
alarm sounds over the 1MC. The entire bridge crew cinches their
safety harnesses tight, and Yamato wedges himself between two
equipment racks.
Part 9
A few seconds later a mighty crash
jolts Denali, imparting a sudden and violent roll around the long
axis of the ship, and introducing bulkheads to any unprepared crew
with the force of a fall from a third story window. Alarms are
sounding from multiple locations around the ship. As Clark regains
her senses, she kills the lateral thrust and begins to zero out the
roll and bring the ship under control. Linden shakes off probable
whiplash and sees Yamato still wedged between the equipment racks,
"Senior Chief! Are you alright?" Yamato extricates himself and
brushes off his uniform. "Shipshape, Sir. Remember, Chrome Moly
Steel has superior tensile strength, Sir." Even in the face of a
potential disaster, Linden can't help but smile, "Senior Chief,
go aft and see to all compartments. Wounded to infirmary, plug
leaks, you know the drill." Yamato heads off the bridge, "On it,
Sir." After doing a quick visual survey of the bridge and a check
on the health of the crew, Linden jabs the intercom for engineering,
"Chief, everyone alright back there?" Appleton answers, "XO
here, Robinson got bounced off some equipment and is out of action.
The Senior Chief has just arrived, and he and Parker will be taking
him to the infirmary. I am assisting Chief Braun with the startup
procedure. This has set us back a bit, but there is no major damage
to the plant. We expect to be online in..." Braun interjects "Ten
minutes." Appleton resumes, "You got that, CO?" Linden
acknowledges, "Understood, XO. Head to the bridge when you can.
Out." Linden wonders how Yamato got there so fast, it must be an
arcane skill granted when the Master Chief of the Navy shows you the
secret handshake. Going around the bridge, Linden queries each
station for damage reports. To his immense relief, Clark reports the
jump system is undamaged. Linden adds, "Clark, what was that with
the thrust?" Clark responds, "Sorry, Sir, I improvised. I
figured the missile would be going for center mass, so I juked us
sideways. Collision had already sounded so I figured we had nothing
to lose at that point." Linden considers, and responds, "Clark,
your instincts were spot on. Well done. But that brings us to did
we get hit and where, or was it a near miss?"
The answer is discovered
immediately. Clark pipes up, "Sir, atmospheric controls are lit up
like holiday decorations. The starboard side wing seems to be
largely missing. As long as we don't try anything atmospheric,
we'll be fine." The structural integrity display on the console
confirms the damage. Over the next few minutes, damage control
reports come in from various compartments, but nothing serious
internally. Linden returns his attention to the hostiles, "Garza,
where are the hostiles?" Garza replies, "Sir, the Foxtrots are
24 minutes out, the Romeos are 35 minutes out, and Sierra-1087 is 2
hours and 38 minutes out. Also, our jump solution has been
refreshed." Just then the XO on the 1MC announces, "Attention
all hands. Prepare for gravity in 5 seconds." The emergency
lights flicker and are replaced by normal work lighting. The
intercom on the console buzzes and Linden answers, "CO, it's
Chief Braun. We are at full power. You can start the clock."
Linden answers, "Excellent work, Chief. Make ready for jump.
Out." The inertial dampeners come online, and the floor gravity
engages. All of the dust, dirt, food crumbs, unattached coffee
bulbs, and general detritus floating around the ship comes raining
down. It looks like a dorm room in here all of the sudden, thinks
Linden. Time to dispose of the remotes thinks Linden, "Serra,
destruct the remotes." Serra issues the command and confirms,
"Sir, remotes have self-destructed." On the 1MC Linden starts
the jump clock, "Attention all hands, the ship will jump for LP
463-23 in five minutes. Make all preparations." He flips open the
safety cover on the jump button on his console and starts the ritual.
He slots in his jump key. A loud chime sounds on the 1MC
accompanied by a computer voice, "Warning. The captain's jump
key is inserted." As Clark does likewise at the pilot station, a
second chime and warning sounds, "Warning. The pilot's jump key
is inserted. The jump system is now armed." As the five minutes
passes, the status board turns green compartment by compartment.
Finally, Clark leads off, "Sir, the pilot sees a green jump board."
Linden responds, "Pilot, the CO sees a green jump board. Proceed
with the jump as planned." The pilot then readies the count, "On
Go. Three. Two. One. Go!" Both simultaneously jab their respective
jump buttons. Denali departs 51 Pegasi 109 days, 9 hours and 26
minutes after arriving. The ship returns to Condition Green and four
minutes later the first watch chime sounds and the dog watch crew is
relieved.
Fortunately for Linden, in jump
space the bridge is usually under the supervision of the senior watch
stander, which in the case is PO1 Thomas. Linden swears his bones
creak when he stands up from the console, unsure if that is from
gravity or getting shaken around. As he makes his way down the
passageway, he sees Yamato passing out broom-vacs to anyone who can
physically work one. Linden takes one, "I'll get my cabin,
Senior Chief." Yamato nods, "Sir." Linden stashes the
broom-vac in his cabin on the way to the infirmary. Robinson is the
worst off with an open fracture type broken arm, a skull fracture,
and a concussion, although he will pull through. Others have minor
fractures, fingers and ribs mostly, and there are a few sprains and
torn ligaments where fingers and knees got bent the wrong way around,
and lacerations where edges or corners came into play. After
checking in with everyone there, Linden heads past the galley where
Cookie is busy restoring various cookware and utensils to their
proper places. She notices Linden and straightens up, "There's
coffee, Sir. We'll be back on normal meal rotation in a few hours.
Oh, and the 'port-side' mugs have survived." Linden smiles,
"Coffee would be great, Cookie." A jug of coffee and an underway
mug in hand, he returns to his cabin and sits at his desk. His neck
is still aching, but it seems to be getting better, so perhaps not
whiplash after all. He is far too keyed up to sleep, so he begins
reviewing the events of the past 36 hours, making notes, watching and
re-watching sensor feeds, replaying audio feeds of inter-ship
communications, and planetside interactions. This will all happen
again and again with various organizations and agencies, starting
with Admiral Mendez at Naval Station Vincent - Ross 271, Fleet
Command, higher Naval commands, and likely the Terran Intelligence
Service. That should get me through to retirement he thinks.
Fatigue begins to creep over him, and he finally racks out.
What seems like a minute later,
Linden's alarm wakes him. Double checking that the alarm is not
early, he rolls out of the rack. Spotting the broom-vac he gives his
cabin the once over, wondering if the stray sock he found is actually
his. He grabs a shower, shaves, and dons his uniform. Checking his
watch, he has about 20 minutes before forenoon watch. Pouring a cup
of lukewarm coffee from the jug on his desk, he catches up on events
and finds that nothing momentous happened while he was unconscious.
He takes the time to edit the notes he has taken and add a few
additional thoughts. Sitting at the console on the bridge, all is
quiet and routine. Linden can see that the crew has begun to absorb
and process the events of the past days. He realizes that the 107th
Reconnaissance Squadron may be the most combat experienced unit in
the Navy right now. We train for combat, but rarely use those
skills, except in low intensity situations to break up minor
flare-ups between colonies or corporate clashes. Linden knows that
this is the opening round in a larger conflict to come, and those
theoretical skills are now practical. He continues to sort through
the data, getting a sense of just how much intelligence data the
107th collected in what, in the scheme of things, was a
minor skirmish.
Putting the organization efforts
aside, he begins setting up a schedule for the XO and himself to
debrief the crew by department during the jump. Get them used to it,
because we'll all be doing it for everyone and their brother who
has a question. The next six days are spent debriefing the crew and
organizing the findings into a report for Admiral Mendez. With the
vast amount of paperwork, the time in jump space seems to pass quite
quickly. On April 1st, Denali emerges from her jump in LP
463-23 at a distance of just over 35 million kilometers from the
star. PO1 Thomas on tactical pipes up, "CO, I have a fix on Shasta
in orbit around LP 463-23 (a)." Linden breathes a small sigh of
relief. PO1 Garcia on comms pipes up, "CO, the quantum link
carrier has re-established. The link will be active and ready for
general use in 15 seconds." Linden acknowledges, "Very well."
As the link becomes active, Kuznetsov opens the command circuit,
"Denali, we are very relieved to see you. What is your status?"
Linden replies, "Denali is reasonably shipshape and ready for
action as long as we stay out of atmospheres. We are a bit thirsty,
and we plan to rendezvous with Walker and take on fuel. Once the
data synchronizes you'll have the full picture of what Shasta
missed. I've put a classified tag on data from the planetside
drone 4 data. When you see it you'll know why." Kuznetsov
chooses not to pursue Linden's response, and asks knowing the
answer, "And Task Force Charlie?" Linden responds, "The final
optical capture is in the data." Kuznetsov sighs, "Very well.
When Denali has refueled, dock with Shasta and we'll discuss the
plan of action." Linden signs off, "Aye, Sir. Denali out."
To the bridge crew, "Garcia, let Walker know were coming for fuel.
Clarke, get us alongside Walker." The crew acknowledge and set
about getting Denali to the refueling point.
The maneuver takes a little over
three hours to get into position alongside Walker. Yamato and his
hand-picked team begin making the connection and meet Walker's
refueling team halfway. Once the connections are double-checked, the
fuel flows and the teams mingle for the customary exchange of gossip
and tall tales. Although this time the Denali team has actual war
stories to tell, and if there is any doubt as to their veracity, they
merely point to the battle damage. As usual, Yamato keeps a good eye
on the transfer but is more introspective than usual. They are at
war. Ships have been destroyed; their crews have been lost. He was
thinking of maybe not re-upping in a year when his current hitch is
done, but now, looking at the young faces of the fuel teams, he knows
they'll need him. Besides, he thinks, what the hell else am I
going to do? Open a bar and listen to drunken tales of things I
ought to be doing myself? Too depressing to contemplate. No, I'm
in until the Master Chief of the Navy hands me my papers. That
decided, and his mind clear, he returns to wrapping up the refueling.
When the connection is broken down and the gear is properly stowed,
he exchanges salutes with the Chief on the Walker. He recognizes the
look; he probably had one just like it a few minutes ago.
Refueling completed, Denali
maneuvers to dock with Shasta. With the customary ceremony, Linden
and Appleton board the Shasta and head to the wardroom. After an
exchange of salutes, Kuznetsov and Watanabe shake hands with both of
the Denali officers. There is coffee and "port-side" mugs
waiting, and they all sit down, and the formality turns comradely.
Watanabe secures the door to the passageway and Kuznetsov pours
coffee, "Jake, Tina, this is a hell of a situation. I think we all
have a pretty shrewd guess now about what happened to Hammersmith,
Matterhorn, and Olympus Mons and all of the others. And we know for
a fact about Everest and Erebus." Linden and Appleton silently
nod, nothing needs to be said. Kuznetsov continues, "Moving on to
the present situation, I've seen your reports on the condition of
Denali and her crew. That missile could have easily destroyed
Denali, how's the crew dealing with that thought?" Linden sips
his coffee, "They got past that maybes and could haves pretty
quickly. They've graduated to a veteran crew; had their baptism of
fire. Denali is ready for action. Hopefully after some repairs."
Linden continues, "Have you had a chance to review the drone 4
feed?" Kuznetsov nods, "Yeah. That's a mind bender. The
first sign of life outside of human space and it's human? Or might
be human. That news will set off shockwaves. The whole situation
and all of the intel needs to get to Fleet Command fast. The
couriers have already continued their run for Ross 271 with whatever
they had when they left 51 Pegasi. We need to get moving today. The
soonest we can be there is April 18th, about 3 days after
the couriers." Linden finishes his coffee, "We'll get underway
immediately. I expect we'll rendezvous briefly at TRAPPIST-1 and
BD+08 4887 before continuing." Kuznetsov adds, "Yes, we'll do
a quick status rendezvous at each jump, but under no circumstances
will either ship wait more than 6 hours. In the event that there is
no rendezvous leave behind a secure marker beacon, so the other ship
knows to go ahead and jump." Linden acknowledges, "Will do. If
there is nothing else, we'll get underway." There is nothing
further, and with an exchange of salutes, Linden and Appleton depart
for Denali to begin preparations for getting underway.
The rest of the transit to Ross 271
passes routinely. When Shasta and Denali emerge from their jump to
Ross 271 they find a much different scene than when Denali left. The
system has transformed from a sleepy system with a quiet forward
naval base. On emergence, they are challenged for identification by
a nearby patrol vessel. The tactical plot shows every ship that is
stationed at Naval Station Vincent - Ross 271 is patrolling the
system. Of course, it is not exactly a massive fleet, consisting of
two destroyers and a handful of escort vessels, but it does show that
the news has definitely gotten here. As Denali contacts the yard for
berthing instructions and to request repairs, a priority signal from
Admiral Mendez arrives. After docking at the NS Vincent - Ross 271
orbital yard, Linden and Appleton will be met by Admiral Mendez.
During the remaining 5 hours until they arrive at the yard, all of
the mission data is transmitted to station headquarters. Linden and
Appleton take the time to review their notes and check with Kuznetsov
for any last-minute thoughts. About 30 minutes before arrival,
Linden and Appleton swing by their quarters to change into more
formal uniforms and then head for the bridge for docking. Denali is
directed to a repair bay where a crew is standing by, and Admiral
Mendez and Captain Stepanov can be seen on the observation deck.
Clark pilots Denali neatly into the bay and Yamato is on the
quarterdeck in his formal uniform as well, touching up the polish on
the ship's bell and making damn sure everything is admiral-worthy
just in case. He hustles up the small honor guard, double checking
uniforms, buttons, and every other uniform parameter that exists in
the book. Just as Linden and Appleton arrive, there is the thump of
hard dock, and once the light turns green Yamato gives the signal and
the airlock hatch is opened. The station hatch opens and Yamato, the
honor guard, and the Denali officers snap to attention as Admiral
Mendez and Captain Stepanov step onto the quarterdeck. The customary
ritual ensues, and as the Admiral steps forward he casts a critical
eye around the quarterdeck area confident that nothing will be out of
place because the Senior Chief will have made sure everything is in
order. The Denali officers salute, and the Admiral returns the
salute and shakes hands with both of them. Linden speaks up,
"Admiral, Captain, welcome aboard Denali. We are honored to
receive you. May I present my executive officer Ensign Tina
Appleton." Mendez responds, "A pleasure, Ensign. Lieutenant,
Ensign, we are glad to be aboard. I thought we would come and escort
you to the meeting in my office." Linden is slightly taken aback,
but rallies, "Thank you, Sir. It is quite unnecessary but
appreciated. Shall we, then?" As the officers sign out from
Denali, the injured begin their transfer to the port hospital.
On the walk to the admiral's
office, the conversation is light and not related to the current
situation. Linden wonders what this is about, is Mendez getting to
know me or buttering me up for really bad news? He bets himself a
credit that it is bad news. On arrival, they meet Kuznetsov,
Watanabe, a handful of staff officers, and two civilians in the outer
office. The group then proceeds to the large conference room
adjacent to the office. Mendez sits at the head of the conference
table, Stepanov to his immediate left. The remaining attendees sit
around the table in no particular order. A yeoman closes the
conference room doors as he leaves. Mendez brings the meeting to
order, "Good afternoon. Thank you all for being here, as you are
doubtless aware this station is on heightened status. What you don't
know is that there are grave matters that need our undivided and
immediate attention. I believe most of the naval personnel here are
acquainted with each other, I will introduce the other participants
that I have invited, Roberta De Luca, Area Chief with the Colonial
Administration, and Jason Moore, our local representative of the
Terran Intelligence Service. Going around the table naval personnel
will briefly state your names and roles by way of introduction."
The introductions accomplished, Mendez continues, "You are all
cleared to high levels so I need not remind anyone, but I will
anyway, that these proceedings and any information revealed or
discussed here is strictly classified. The information discussed
here today has the potential to cause serious consternation among the
population at large. Four officers at this table have procured
valuable intelligence which will be revealed shortly. For the rest
of you, this intelligence may come as a shock. Be aware that this
intelligence has come at a great cost; the loss of Hammersmith,
Matterhorn, Olympus Mons, Everest, Erebus, and upwards of twenty
civilian vessels." A ripple of surprise travels around the table
with some of the naval staff exchanging whispers and looks of
concern. Mendez continues, "Settle down. I will turn the floor
over to Lieutenant Kuznetsov, commander of the 107th
Reconnaissance Squadron. Lieutenant?"
Kuznetsov presents an intelligence
briefing about the situation as of when Denali jumped out from 51
Pegasi, late afternoon on March 25th. She brings in
Linden from time to time to clarify some points or provide additional
insights, but in general conducts a very thorough and efficient
briefing. Mendez has to frequently intervene to restore order as
questions get shouted out or cross-table discussions break out.
There will be plenty of time for all of those questions and
discussions in the near future. The footage of the enemy fire team
is, perhaps not surprisingly, the one revelation about which Mendez
does not have to ask for silence. Silence permeates the room for a
good minute. As the footage of the near miss on Shasta, and the
destruction of Everest and Erebus are shown, some of the naval staff
are visibly disturbed. This type of weapon and its deployment calls
into question much of the Navy's tactical doctrine because there is
currently no defense to be employed. The formation fighting taught
at the academy for over a hundred years will need to be revised
immediately. The reports from planetside are of great interest to De
Luca, and everything is of interest to Moore. After Kuznetsov
finishes the briefing, Mendez speaks up, "This is the situation.
You all know as much as there is to know at this point. Couriers
have been dispatched with the raw intelligence package to Fleet
Command and Naval Headquarters, and a summary package to various
other naval and ground commands in the area. Ms. De Luca, Mr. Moore,
copies of the raw intelligence are also available for you as well."
Heading off the inevitable barrage of questions, Mendez continues,
"The officers of the 107th will be joining me for
discussions immediately following this meeting, and working groups
will be formed and the personnel of the 107th will be made
available to any relevant groups on a scheduled basis to be
coordinated through Captain Stepanov. They will be available for at
least... Captain?" Stepanov continues, "One month for repairs to
Denali." Mendez nods, "One month. This meeting is adjourned.
Officers of the 107th, please remain." Having been
dismissed, the other attendees stand and file out abuzz with muted
conversation.
Mendez breaks the silence, "I
thought I would buy you a few hours of relief before turning that mob
loose on you. Besides, it will give them time to formulate the
actual questions they want to ask instead of just asking any random
thing." Kuznetsov changes tack, "Sir, I would like to put in
commendations for Everest and Erebus for their actions in protecting
the civilian ships." Mendez nods, "They deserve no less. Write
it up, Lieutenant. I will proudly endorse it."
The meeting having broken up, the
officers of the 107th head back to their vessels to attend
to the mountain of things that need attending to, but confident in
the knowledge their respective Senior Chiefs will have it all sorted,
and they will only have to sign in three places. As their paths
diverge at the entrance to the repair bay they silently exchange
salutes, shake hands, and head for their respective vessels. As
Linden and Appleton pass the viewing area of the repair bay, they
stop and look at Denali for a few minutes as the repair crew begins
doing their preliminary work. Linden reflects that Denali has
finally done what she was designed to do; what previous crews might
have dreamed of doing knowing it would never happen; and what we
actually did and returned to port to tell the tale.
And so, the flight of the Denali
ends. Denali will spend the next month under repair, healing the
first significant battle damage the TMF Navy has seen from an
external enemy. The crews of Denali and Shasta will spend the next
month at least in endless and repetitive debrief with perhaps a
little time to grab a beer at the Enlisted Club. They will wonder
what is next for the 107th and silently pray that they
will not wind up as some sort of permanent exhibit for curious
onlookers. As it happens, this will not be their fate, but one
should always be careful what one wishes for.
|
View Portfolio
Visit Notebook
Send Gift Points
Awards
Badges
Send Email
Community Newsfeed
General Discussion
Sponsored Items
Book of Trinkets
Static Items
Books
Groups
Interactive Stories
Audio
Campfire Creatives
Community Notes
Crossword Puzzles
Documents
Folders
Images
In & Outs
Madlibs
Photo Albums
Polls
Product Reviews
Quizzes
Survey Forms
Web Pages
Word Searches
