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Fleet Admiral Hunter Jamison III stood on the bridge of the CVNS USS Intrepid one of the finest state of the art fighting vessels in known existence. With its wings of fighters and fighter-bombers, manually aimed and computer controlled laser batteries, newest electronic sensors and shielding, heavy reinforced steel armor, ship-busting missiles with nuclear warheads none of which did anything to ease the dread that has been plaguing him since his fleet entered this sector of space. Not even the enjoyment he always feels when standing on the bridge seeing space in its majestic splendor from the panoramic bridge viewport eased the tension. The distant sun of this solar system burned bright causing a glare that the panoramic viewport self-adjusted for allowing a beautiful clear view of the surrounding planets and distant stars.
“Anything on the long-range sensors,” he said to no one individual but expecting a prompt reply.
“The sensors show no ships signatures sir,” a female officer replied. Chief Petty Officer Patricia Lyndhurst sat at one of the sensor stations dressed in the navy’s service khaki uniform a khaki button-up shirt and trousers, worn with a gold belt buckle. The shirt features two front flap pockets and a pointed collar with the ribbons worn above the left pocket of the shirt, with the warfare insignia above them. The navy is filled with tradition and all bridge personnel wear this uniform while on duty.
Something is not right he could feel it nagging at his bones. His fleet consisted of the Intrepid, the CAS USS Indianapolis Cruiser, DDS USS Fletcher Destroyer and support vehicles. Even with all of this support and firepower, a sense of urgency is telling him it is not enough that their deaths awaited them in this newly discovered solar system. The solar system suddenly went silent with no communication from the exploration fleet stationed off planet. The system went silent when the man-made wormhole generators that allow quick travel between solar systems quit sending operational and communication signals.
The man-made interstellar wormhole generators had two purposes one to transport fleets long distances in a short time and to send light speed messages through them quickly. The navy also uses them to move ships through large solar systems saving time traveling from one planet to another in a given solar system. After years of research and many failed tests, they tried a new design prototype that had greater promise of working but some said would never work. The naysayers were in an uproar about the cost of the experiment demanding the resources go to various pet projects.
Authorization to run the test passed after many arguments, wrangling, and long-term promises brought enough people onboard to approve the tests. The scientists opened a wormhole in Earth’s solar system thinking it would take them close to mars. When the scientists sent a wormhole generator through the newly opened wormhole they were pleased to find it had worked but not as they thought it would. When the wormhole generator on the other end made it through signaling it is operational sequence codes, no one had ever dreamed it would open a wormhole in a different solar system. After many years of research and study they learned how to control the wormholes making them more stable allowing them to stay open long enough to move people and machines through them. They perfected the ability to send several wormhole generators to any system once they attained the coordinates from the first wormhole generator. To return to this system they simply sent another wormhole generator to these coordinates and the system is accessible again.
“Sir, sensors indicate inordinate amounts space wreckage. It could be the research vessels we were sent to locate.”
“Lieutenant Commander Johnson, order the fleet to power up shields and close all outer blast doors excluding the hanger bays.”
Lieutenant Commander Johnson is a big man with dark skin and coal black eyes with the physique of a wrestler. “Aye sir, he quickly responded.
The sense of impending doom and fear suddenly slammed full force into the admiral nearly overwhelming him, never in his life had he experienced anything like this. “Sound battle stations! Scramble all fighters. Sensors at maximum range do it now!” The chorus of aye sirs after the direct orders rang throughout the bridge. “Anything on the sensors,” yelled Admiral Jamison. His uncommon behavior and knowing the sensor readouts were registering space debris and not much else added to his anxiety. “Increase visual now!” None of his previous training would prepare him for what he saw next. Staring out of the panoramic bridge viewport in utter amazement, Admiral Jamison was not prepared for what he saw before him in space. “Can anyone tell me what those ships are doing out here in space?” he asked of no one in particular.
Games of the Powerful Page 4
