Stollar's Gambit

by Jason Borondy

  “Captain!” the familiar voice of the tactical officer screamed through the com panel.

  “What is it, ensign? Don't scream into the com,” Magnuson angrily replied. “What could be so important in the middle of nowhere?” he thought.

  “I am reading thirteen gravitational distortions ahead of us. The readings are consistent with Displacement drive activity,” the tactical officer reported. Magnuson could hear the panic in the young officer’s voice.

  “What?” is all he got out before he noticed ships suddenly appearing in front of the Carson. Half of the ships looked familiar, and that filled him with dread. They were the exact design of Neptunian ships from twenty-plus years ago. The other ships were slightly larger with multiple weapon points littered around its squid shaped hull.

  The final ship in this fleet appeared in the middle of the group. It was three times larger than any of the other ships. It had dual oval hulls with a rectangular ridge connecting the two halves that ran down the center of the ship. The amount of weapon-points were too many to count.

  Everyone on the observation deck was speechless. Magnuson thought to himself that there was no way the EDF could take on this fleet and survive. Also, why were they coming back now? What is their motivation? He had to see if they could find out--or at least send a signal to warn Earth.

  “Comms, try hailing them. See if you can explain we are a science vessel. Tactical, get the weapons and defensive systems up. I will be down in a minute,” he ordered.

  As he turned to make his way to the bridge, the captain noticed a bluish light being emitted from behind him. He spun around in time to notice a ball of blue energy speeding at them. It must have been fired from one of the ships, he thought. Then he felt the Carson turn to the starboard to avoid impact. The sudden move knocked Magnuson off balance, and a few of the crewman on the observation deck fell to the floor. He on the other hand was able to grab the ledge of the terminal to keep him from falling.

  Unfortunately, the maneuver did little to avoid the ball of energy. It hit the ship on the front port side hull. The panel in front of the captain burst into flames. He jumped back away from the panel. The room suddenly went dark, and emergency sirens began blaring throughout the ship.

  He retreated back to the ladder then made his way down to the next level. The hallway had various people running in different directions. The red emergency lights had kicked on. Magnuson frantically raced down the hallway, stopping at every com panel until he found one that worked. He keyed in the code to access the bridge.

  “Someone give me a status!” he yelled into the panel, trying to overcome the noise of the emergency alarm.

  The voice of the first officer responded, “All main power systems are offline. All we have is emergency power, some internal comms and minor sensors capabilities. We are also getting reports of injuries throughout the ship.”

  “Do we have communications?” he asked hoping that they could at least warn Earth.

  “No,” the first officer solemnly replied.

  “Crap,” he thought, “with no way to warn Earth, humanity is going to be sitting ducks.” Then he felt the ship begin to move forward.

  He pressed a button on the panel. “What is going on? Did we get engines back?”

  “No, sir. According to our limited sensor readings, we are being pulled,” the officer replied.

  He remembered back to the footage of the Roosevelt being pulled to the ship and then detonating a nuke to take it out.

  “Tactical, did we get any nukes loaded before everything went dark?” He asked, hoping yes. Science vessels did carry a limited array of weapons, and they did have a couple of nukes on board.

  “No, sir. Not all of the weapon systems came up before the impact,” replied the tactical officer.

  “Shoot,” he thought. Then he heard screaming come from the location of the observation deck. He looked up and saw a bright white light shine down from the opening.

  Well, it looks like they are going to make first contact with an intelligent alien race, but the question is, will they survive it?

  5

  Shuttle SC706

  Orbit of Grand Isle

  It was early in the morning. David rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. It read two a.m. Earth time. “Too damn early,” he thought. He could feel the strain of little sleep affecting his body. The day after his sister’s assumption of command of the Little Rock, David boarded the transport ship ETS Card, which quickly made it to one of the several jump points located throughout the Sol System. From there they had been jumping from system to system dropping people off and picking them up, never staying in one system longer than a couple of hours. He couldn’t sleep much on the trip. Especially when the ship would do a Displacement Jump. Now it was David’s turn to leave the ship aboard on of the Card’s shuttles.

  The shuttle cabin was cramped. It had rows of seats and a layout reminiscent of passenger aircraft on Earth, except these were a bright shade of orange that almost hurt your eyes to look at. Plus, there was barely enough space for your legs. The cabin temperature was cold. Even wearing his service jacket, he could feel a chill. These shuttles weren’t made for comfort. Just enough amenities to transport people from one point to another in space. The only bright spot on the trip was that he had a seat next to one of the few windows of the shuttle.

  David glanced out the window into the darkness of space. The reflection of light from the planet of Grand Isle lit up the shuttle’s final destination. It was the EDS Hornet. The Zeus-class carrier vessel hung there in orbit. One thousand meters in length, the Hornet eclipsed the size of Jessica’s Little Rock. The Hornet had fifteen rail gun turrets scattered throughout the top and underside of its rounded hull. David could make out some of the several gigawatt-class laser turrets that had been added recently. As the shuttle approached the starboard side of the carrier, David could make out the launch tubes for the squadrons of SF-19 fighters to launch out of.

  Making the turn to approach the aft landing bay, David noticed two of the four main sub-light Fusion Ion drive engines one stacked onto the other, both attached to the side of the ship. Located on top of the ship attached by a strut mechanism was the Class VIII Displacement Drive. The Hornet was one of the first Carriers put into service years ago. It was impressive for an old ship, and this was going to be his home for a while.

  Minutes later, the shuttle was in the landing bay and had taxied through a secondary airlock. A voice came over the speaker giving everyone on board the shuttle the go ahead to disembark. David unbuckled his seatbelt and stood up. He opened the bin above his seat and pulled out the large duffel bag that was stored there. He fell in line behind the other passengers on board the shuttle. They slowly shuffled out the side hatch and down the stairs to the deck of the Hornet’s hanger deck.

  The deck was busy. People were scurrying around performing various duties. David could smell the strong odor of ozone coming from different workstations. The size of the hanger deck was impressive. It encompassed two levels of the ship. The top deck housed small shuttles and a few rescue craft. David could make out the elevator platform that would retrieve the spacecraft from the second level and bring them down to the main level of the hanger. In the main level the combat elements of the wing were housed, there were the SA-12 Avenger bombers. With their duel cockpit, the pilot and weapons officer sat side by side, and in the hanger the trapezoidal wings were folded up to make space. Joining the SA-12’s along the port and starboard sides of the deck was the spacecraft he was rated in, the SF-19 Tigershark fighter.

  The Tigersharks were smaller than the Avengers. It was a delta wing designed spacecraft, except it had a single cockpit and two vertical stabilizers jutting out from above the ion engine in a V pattern. David could make out the duel 20 mm vacuum rated cannons mounted to the right and left sides of the spacecraft.

  “Are you Warrant Officer Ramirez?” a female voice asked from behind him.

  David turned to source of the que
stion. Standing in front of him was a woman with light brown skin and jet black hair that was tied back into a bun. She was wearing a gray flight suit that fit her athletic build perfectly. Her arms were crossed, her brown eyes were staring at him, and he could tell by the expression she was impatient for an answer.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Um, yes, yes, I am,” he replied fumbling his words.

  “I am Lieutenant Jasmine Patel and I am here to welcome you to the Hornet,” she stated as she held out her hand.

  “Pleased to meet you, ma’am,” David replied shaking her hand. They released hands and there was a moment of uncomfortable silence. He looked around the hanger, “Now what?”

  “Now is the time for your meeting with the boss. Now if you will follow me.”

  David picked up his duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder, “Lead the way.”

  Minutes later after a walk through a maze of hallways, the pair stood in front of the Commander of Air Group or CAG’s office. The door read Commander John Hennessy Commander 8th Air Group. Jessica pressed the button on the panel next to the door.

  “Enter!” A voice came from the speaker.

  She pressed another button, and the door slid open with a hiss. David followed her in through the door, mindful not to trip over the raised threshold. Once inside, the door shut. Commander Hennessy sat at a metal desk towards the back of the room. He was on older man in his mid-forties with graying brown hair cut high and tight. He looked to be carrying a little extra weight, but nothing outside of regs. He was staring intensely at the monitor in front of him.

  David centered himself to the man, stood at attention and snapped a salute, “Sir, Warrant Officer Ramirez reports as ordered.”

  Hennessy raised a dismissive hand as he looked up at David. “At ease, Mister Ramirez. Both of you have a seat.”

  Both he and Jasmine sat in the two chairs in front of the desk. Hennessy moved to press a button on his keyboard and the screen retracted into the desk. He sat back in his chair, “Welcome to the Hornet and the 8th Air Group. I apologize that I don’t have a lot of time for a full in brief. I have some pressing business to attend to. That is why I assigned Lieutenant Patel to you. She is our Diamond flight lead and your new wingman. She will get you up to speed on the inner workings here.”

  David heard a huff from Jasmine. “Sir, I told you I don’t need a wingman right now. Especially a rookie.” She looked at him with a half frown. “No offense.”

  “None taken I guess,” David responded uncomfortably.

  Hennessy leaned forward in his chair. “I don’t care. All personnel in this group have wing men assigned to them. You are no different, Lieutenant. Get the kid up to speed. That is an order.”

  “Sir, can we discuss this in private?” she replied. David was just silent, head panning back and forth between the two.

  “No. This is how it is going to be. I don’t have time to argue with you about it,” Hennessy said. Jasmine looked like she was going to say something else, but he gave her a stern look not to press her luck. “Do you have any questions for me, Mister Ramirez?”

  David sat and thought it best to get out of this situation quick, “No, sir. I don’t.”

  “Good,” Hennessy smiled, “if that is all, you both are dismissed.”

  David rose from his seat and gave Hennessy a salute. The CAG returned the salute and David spun on his heals to exit the room. Jasmine followed.

  Once the door to the office closed, Jasmine grabbed David’s arm, keeping him from moving down the hall. He turned to face her, “Yes, Ma’am.”

  Her demeanor was now different—she seemed agitated. “Okay, rookie, if you are going to be my wingman, I am going to make sure you will be ready for anything. Once I show you to your quarters, get some rest, because tomorrow, I am going to see what you are made of.”

  “What the hell did I get myself into?” David thought as Jasmine began to walk down the hall.

  6

  EDS Little Rock

  Earth Jump Point One

  “Why won't you tell me what is going on?” Jessica asked, talking into the screen at her ready room desk.

  “I just can't tell you. All information on the subject is restricted,” the young blond woman on the screen replied.

  “Come on, Haley, not even for your sister, who will be there in a few days anyways?” Jessica begged. She was a little annoyed at the fact that her sister wouldn't tell her any details on what happened.

  Haley stared at Jessica through the screen—it was like she was shooting daggers from her blue eyes at Jessica.

  “You mean to tell me that after how you treated me, that now you want to act like nothing happened? The answer is no.”

  Leaning back in her seat, Jessica replied, “I am not saying everything is okay. I was just worried something bad had happened and was checking on you. I still care about you, little sis.”

  “Now you are worried!” Haley scoffed. There was a beep, and she looked at the watch on her right arm and said, “I have to go. I am going to be late for an appointment with my boss.” She reached down to the bottom of the screen and it went blank.

  Jessica just sat there for a moment in silence. She couldn't believe that things had become that bad between them. They always had fights growing up but eventually things would be okay. This time was different somehow. Maybe once she gets there, she thought, they can try to work on patching things up.

  Jessica looked around the room. She still hadn't put up most of her personal items in the ready room. Only an old picture sat on her desk. It was of herself, Haley, and their dad on the bridge of the Roosevelt before he left on that fateful last mission. Her father with was sitting in his captain's chair. Jessica and Haley were sitting on each side of his lap. They were given the opportunity to tour the ship before he set out, and Jessica's mother did what she always did and took lots of pictures.

  A beep broke the silence in the room. It had come from the Ship’s comm panel at her desk. Jessica sat up and pressed the button to open the channel.

  “Yes?” she asked.

  “Captain, I just wanted to let you know that Lieutenant Commander Sinclair has boarded and is on his way to your ready room,” the voice on the comm stated.

  “Thank you,” Jessica replied and then pressed the button to cut the transmission.

  As if on cue another chime came from the door to the room.

  “Enter!” she yelled at the door.

  The door opened with a hiss as the pneumatics actuated and the heavy door slid open. A man entered and proceeded to walk to the center of the room and align himself to the center of the desk. He stood at attention and raised a salute with his right hand and said, “Lieutenant Commander Sinclair reports as ordered.”

  Jessica took a second to observe the man as he entered. He stood just over six feet tall and was built like a linebacker. He was wearing the typical gray flight suit with shoulder rank insignia, right chest flight patch and left arm American flag sewn on. She looked into his face—he was of African American descent, with bald head, squared jaw and brown eyes that were right now staring right at her waiting for her to give some sort of response.

  She gave a return salute and replied, “At ease, Commander.” Then Jessica stood up and offered her hand, “Welcome aboard, Isaiah.”

  Isaiah reached out with a firm grip and shook Jessica's hand, “Thank you, Captain.”

  “Have a seat,” she offered, pointing at one of the chairs opposite her as she sat back in her seat.

  Isaiah sat down with his back straight up with his hands square on his lap. Jessica thought he was very rigid.

  “I said ‘at ease,’ Commander. That means relax,” Jessica said.

  Isaiah seemed to relax a little. He put his arms on the arm rests on the sides of the chair and leaned back in the seat.

  “How was your trip over from the Hope?” Jessica asked.

  “Your typical shuttle ride, nothing eventful,” he replied.

  �
��Good to hear. I wanted to meet for a little bit to get to know you and set some expectations. Can you give me some background that is not in your personnel file?” she asked.

  “Honestly, I’d rather not,” he said.

  Puzzled, she inquired, “Why?”

  “I don't know how long I am going to be here,” he stated, leaning back farther in his seat.

  “What makes you say that?”

  Isaiah leaned forward putting his hand together, “Well, as you probably know, this will more than likely be my last assignment and my last chance to make commander. I would be forced to leave if I can't. My time is limited. Plus my kind has a hard time making rank.”

  What he said was hard for her to hear. In the 22nd century discrimination based on race was gone, but based on genetics, that was different. Genetic engineering of children became a necessity during the colonization of planets that had some environmental differences from Earth. This way generations of children would still be able to live on Earth but also survive on the planet they grew up on. The process originally was developed in the early 21st century. Unfortunately on Earth, people felt threatened by the genetically engineered, so they limited what they could do on Earth. Even going so far as giving them a nickname, “Krips.” They even tattooed the kids at birth with bar codes on the back of the neck. She was disgusted by the thought.

  “I read your file and I understand your apprehension. I don’t judge people based on their genes, but on their actions. I would not have chosen you for this position if I didn’t think you could handle it,” she said.

  “I am happy to hear that, but I have never been a XO before, and I heard that transition can be difficult. Plus, I always thought my first XO job would be under a more experienced captain. No offense, ma’am.”

  His words kind of hurt Jessica, but she couldn't show it. She leaned forward and grabbed her cup of coffee and took a quick drink. It was cold, and it tasted bad. “Oops, how long had that been sitting there?” she thought. She held back from spitting it back into the mug.