“No, I do not, Admiral,” I replied stiffly, bracing myself for the inevitable conclusion to her lecture.
“They're calling you an Asset. Anyone who hasn't seen your full record thinks that you've lacked the opportunities to make your skills known and find your place,” she turned her head and looked at me out of the corner of her eye. “You and I know better, don't we?”
Officer training and common sense made it clear that any response I offered would only make things worse. I kept my mouth shut and eyes staring forward. The ruined husk of the Lockheed was being towed directly into my line of sight.
Her words were enunciated sharply as she continued. “You're bored but lack the direction and ambition to step forward and make a place for yourself. You've grown complacent and lazy. Sure, you're exceptional at directing traders, resupplying incoming ships and arranging for repairs but Alice, that AI you keep strapped to your arm, could do the job just as well while working on eight other tasks. You're wasted, Mister Jonas, how does that make you feel?”
My face was red, my palms were wet, but my nervousness had gone. That little voice in the back of my head -- the one always telling me to stay out of the fight, that it was a good idea to step away from the military and that I had found a peaceful, leisurely life that was worth keeping -- was gone. I knew everything she was saying was right, that I had convinced myself otherwise over time, making little compromises, small, short-sighted retreats away from what I wanted. No wonder when the opportunity to do it in a game came along, to feel the warmth of camaraderie and rush of command, I dove right in.
She was right, and I realized that the anger that filled me had nothing to do with her. My admission came out quietly. “I am wasted.”
She walked quietly, calmly to her desk. I couldn't believe how calm and clear she was as the anger within me clouded my judgement and rendered me speechless. The Admiral picked up a small data chip and turned it on. I recognized the holographic icons that sprang up above it immediately. “Well, there is something we sometimes do for people like you. We challenge them, only you've gone too far for us to make it a simple matter of reactivating your rank and putting you back into the service. You're a passable engineer, but from what we've seen that's not your true calling. Few people on this station know it, but we're fighting to maintain what little territory we have and the opposition has become more fierce than ever. We can not afford to have trained, qualified personnel sitting around directing traffic. Having said that, I'm not going to hand equipment and responsibility over to a man who hasn't been properly tested. Let alone a crew who, for the most part, share the same problem.
“I'm giving you and everyone who is involved in this fiasco a choice,” she turned the data chip off and tossed it at me. I caught it by reflex, but barely. “You can pay fines and be permanently barred from any ranking Fleet position, or participate in one more high-stakes simulation. For the purpose of this simulation I'm promoting you to the rank of Trainee Captain and everyone else is being assigned a trainee rank befitting their position in your crew. Anyone who accepts this challenge will have six days to prepare for the simulation, which will be conducted on an actual ship.
“The scenario will be at my discretion and be chosen five minutes before it begins from a list of historic scenarios in which the casualty rate was seventy percent or higher. To ensure that everyone has the proper motivation, death in the simulation will have real consequences. Anyone whose avatar dies will be charged with violating military digital security which carries a prison sentence of one to ten years as determined by the sensitivity of the accessed materials. If our officials determine that damage was done to our systems, morale or procedures, more fines and prison time could be brought down on people who lose their simulated lives.”
I don't remember what went on in my head exactly, but I wasn't willing to back down. “I can only speak for myself, Admiral, but I accept your challenge.”
Admiral Rice smiled at me and nodded. “Good, a number of your team mates made it clear that they would not participate unless you were put in command. We've had a chance to meet with everyone, and though most are choosing to become permanent civilians, twenty one of you are going to be participating in this exercise. All but you and three others have already reported aboard ship and I've had your things sent to your quarters there,” the Admiral walked to the window and pointed. “You'll be using a Combat Carrier that's been converted into a Striker-class Destroyer that's undergoing a refit. Her name is the Sunspire, and we're in the process of replacing her primary systems starting with the power plants. Her age comes with a distinguished history.”
I stepped up beside the Admiral and looked down. The entire lower half of the hull was opened to accommodate the replacement of the ship's old reactors. The ship once had a reflective surface to minimize beam weapon damage but it had been tarnished by weapons fire and it looked mismatched where hull plating had been replaced with different materials. I could see why they would refit the ship instead of decommissioning it, however.
Even from where I was standing I could see the hull was made of ergranian steel, a rare regenerative, incredibly dense metal that was difficult to mine and next to impossible to find. Looking at the exposed portions I could also see that the hull was well over a meter thick, more in some places. Tethered just behind the ship were two dozen starfighter training pods ready to be loaded into some part of the ship, judging from the work ongoing, I couldn't begin to guess where they'd be putting them.
“The old reactors they're pulling out of her are huge, they've got to be almost a hundred fifty years old. What are they going to do with all the space left over after the new ones are installed? They'll be an eighth the size and generate the same amount of energy,” I found myself asking.
“There won't be much space left over. We're quintupling her power generation capabilities and outfitting her for long range missions. Her new fuel manufacturing systems will be able to make energy out of almost anything. We're putting those huge ram scoops to good use with the new design. They'll also be installing new automation systems so she'll require one twentieth the crew.”
“That'll give her the power generation capabilities of a juggernaut and the ability to turn anything into energy.”
“Exactly.”
“So, I suppose I'll be commanding the ship in its original configuration during the simulation?”
“No, part of the test is to find out how you and your team mates deal with new technology. The Sunspire may look like a ship ready for retirement on the outside, but we're updating her with all our best technology on the inside and reshaping whole sections of the hull. The regenerative qualities of the metal allow us to do a great deal with this ship that we couldn't with any modern vessel. One of the unique things about the challenge I'm setting you and your friends on is that no one really knows all the details of this ship from stem to stern except for the lead engineers who redesigned her.
The specifications, real life profiles and everything other than the scenario are on the data chip I gave you. As of this moment you're in full command, crew assignments, drills, and even who you might want to excuse are completely up to you. I'll also allow you to request a number of qualified, low ranking officers to fill in for missing crew members. You'll be restricted to three decks, one of which is being temporarily fitted as a training area with simulation pods but that should be more than enough room. Everyone has been instructed to stay clear of anything that involves the refit. Do you have any questions before you ship out, Trainee Captain?”
“What happens to anyone I excuse?”
“Civilians will be banned from serving in the Freeground Fleet and career military will be demoted or imprisoned depending on what the courts decide on the charge of conspiring to violate security protocols. If they're not good enough for your crew then they're certainly not good enough for Fleet. Any other questions?”
“No, thank you Admiral.”
“Good. Then Godspeed, I'll see you a
fter the simulation. Security will see you to the Sunspire.”
I started walking out of the room when the Admiral stopped me. “One more thing Jonas. One of your team mates, Sunspot was her handle, is the new Chief Engineer aboard the Sunspire. She was overseeing the refit until today and her rank is still effective. The charges of conspiracy were waived in her case since we couldn't prove that she knew some of her team mates were illegally participating in simulations. Despite this, she's convinced me that she should be treated like anyone else in the team and will face charges if she is killed in the scenario. I like this officer, she's a bright, dedicated engineer and a better commander than most with a long history in the military despite her age. If she goes down with your team, I'll hold you personally responsible. Dismissed.”
Chapter 3
Conspirators
The meeting with Admiral Rice had changed my world. I felt numb as security led me up the Sunspire's broad boarding tunnel. The battered destroyer stretched on forever to the left and right. Her curves made her thick and heavy at the front. The armoured ram scoops flared out like great metal shoulders. Massive intake control fins gave the front of the open scoops a sharp, toothy look. From there the hull tapered inward, only to flare back out at the rear where three main articulated thruster pods waited to be rebuilt. Two of the pods were placed high on the aft end, pointing upwards at forty five degree angles, while the third and largest hung straight down.
The grace of the ship's design was evident despite the open sections of hull. It was more like something that had been born than built. Her main beam was the better part of a kilometre long and I found myself wishing I could see a holo of the ship in her heyday.
The size of the ship up close only reminded me of the enormity of my situation. Twenty one lives were in my hands, each one of them taking their chances with me and their fellows instead of taking the easy way out; civilian life.
The busy boarding tunnel was filled with personnel involved in the refit. When I arrived at the end I was met by a security officer in a green and blue trainee vacsuit. “Welcome Captain Valent, your quarters are ready. Follow me please,” the Officer stated pleasantly.
“Decks four to seven are at the disposal of you and your crew. You'll be using a temporary bridge on deck five for the simulation and most of your crew are settling in to their quarters or will be arriving soon.” The security officer was a thickly muscled fellow who stood at least two metres tall. He seemed very happy to see me which was a bit surprising and unnerving at the same time.
The halls were two meters across and unpainted, leaving the blue sheen of the ergranian steel plain to see. It struck me then that it was the perfect bare material for the interior since it would absorb massive amounts of energy instead of conducting it freely. The cables, wiring and pipes that ran along the sides of the corridors were perfectly arranged, neatly clipped against the bulk heads so they were out of the way. There were pressure doors every fifteen meters that decoupled, moved outward and separated at our approach. “Are these doors always closed when the ship is in operation?” I asked.
“Only during yellow or red alert status. Normally they're only closed at major junctions. During the refit we're keeping everything bottled up just in case we blow a seal somewhere.”
We had to traverse the ship vertically by using an empty lift shaft since the elevator cars were being replaced. Aside from a safety tether, we were floating free in a shaft that ran the full height of the hull, eight decks above me and thirteen below. The size of the vessel couldn't have been more apparent as we drifted up several decks to the third. “This is huge, how big is her normal compliment?”
“As far as I know it depends on how she's tasked. During a drop mission she can carry eighteen hundred infantry, sixty drop ships, forty fighters and requires a main crew of over a thousand. For long mission configuration I hear you can run the ship with automation and one hundred crew. That's how she's being fitted. What it was like when she was a Combat Carrier, I couldn't tell ya. She's been off that duty for a century or so.”
“Sounds like you know a lot about this ship. Have you served on her before?”
“No sir, I just like to read.”
Whereas the busy decks below were filled with people, equipment, had open compartments everywhere and noise all around, the officer quarters and mess hall on the third deck were deathly silent. Our footsteps echoed as we came out of the shaft slowly and let the artificial gravity -- which was fairly light and not fully operational either -- draw our feet down onto the floor.
The narrower halls were surfaced with padded panels and the lighting was subdued. It already looked better than my apartment, which may not be saying much by normal standards, but it was enough to make me grin.
I didn't realize that we had arrived at my quarters as we stood in front of the pressure doors that were clearly labelled Captain with space for a name to be posted below. I cheerily stood there, looking around with the doors closed.
The guard smiled and announced, “Here we are sir.”
I nodded as though I was perfectly aware of the fact that we were standing quietly in front of my quarters and stepped forward to trigger the doors. As they opened I looked inside to find a main room that had a table with four chairs on one side, a sofa, a thickly cushioned armchair, and archways on either side leading to additional rooms. “You could fit four of my apartment in just what I've seen so far and have room for a walk in closet.”
“The privilege of command, sir,” the guard said with a big toothy grin.
It was then that I recognized his voice from the simulations. “Oz?” I asked with a smile.
“About time! I was starting to wonder if they got the right man!” he said, shaking my hand firmly. “Warrant Officer Terry Ozark McPatrick at your service. Most of my friends call me Oz.”
“Just like in the scenarios, that's something I can get used to.” I stepped into my quarters and he followed. “So you're actually a security officer? Not infantry?”
“Well, I started in infantry and got poached into Fleet by my uncle before he retired. I told him I made a mistake joining infantry and he agreed. I've served for eight years in different security roles, just got my flight and gunner certifications last year and I'm almost finished with my bridge command training, can't get promoted until I finish that. Unless you have other plans for me I'll be on security detail while we're aboard.”
“You're welcome to it. Have you met anyone else yet?” I asked as I sat at the table.
“Just Ayan, turns out she's changed a bit since the Academy. When I first met her she was in advanced engineer training. I was in first year trying to figure out what I wanted to do. Now she's used to commanding an engineering crew of about a hundred fifty and well, let's just say she grew out of her awkward stage.”
“Well, that's not intimidating at all.”
Oz laughed and put a big hand on my shoulder. “She's just as nice as I remember, got a smile that can light up the main cargo hold. I don't know why, but she's glad to be here, all excited about this challenge. Don't get me wrong, I'm looking forward to it too, but she already has a career that would make any cadet envious, she made Commander before thirty and could have Captain by thirty five. She doesn't need something like this making her life all complicated. Doesn't matter though, she's trying to flip her rank over into training status like us, but Fleet won't let her just yet.”
“I know, she's taking a huge risk by signing on for this challenge. I really don't know what's behind it either.”
“Her mother is less than pleased, I'm sure you've heard.”
“I had no idea. Her family lives on the station?”
Oz's jaw dropped and he sat down on the sofa. “You really don't know, do you?”
“Know what?”
He shook his head and ran a big hand down his face. “Okay, there's something you have to know about our Chief Engineer. Her full name is Ayan Rice. Her mother is-”
“Rear Admiral Rice
,” I felt as though all the air just left the room. Suddenly I couldn't breathe, the room was spinning. I reached out to put my hand down on the table and missed. I was falling and then everything went black.
When I opened my eyes I was looking up at the faces of Oz and Minh-Chu.
“He just started hyperventilating and passed out. I think he's coming around though,” Oz said as he propped my head up in one of his hands.
“Some fearless leader,” Minh added with a smirk.
“I heard that,” I tried to blink the white spots out of my eyes. Oz helped me up and we all sat at the table. “How long was I out?”
“Just a few seconds, long enough to scare the hell out of me. Don't do that on the bridge,” Oz replied.
“I came in and this big guy was standing over you. I was just about to run for the nearest exit,” said Minh.
“Well, I'm glad you're not going to be involved with security,” I told Minh to Oz's amusement. “So, I have a Fleet Admiral's daughter on board. That's going to be a little awkward.”
“Only if you give her any special treatment. I think she might be participating in this thing because she wants to prove that she gets the same treatment as everyone else.” Minh said in more of a serious tone than I'd heard from him in a while. "That, and rumour has it she was assigned to the Sunspire's refit as some kind of rehabilitation. No one knows what from.”
“Well, she can demand as much respect as she wants as long as she keeps our simulated ship together. From what the Admiral told me we're in for a rough ride.”
“You mean the Admiral briefed you herself?” Oz asked, agape.
Spinward Fringe Broadcast 0: Origins Page 4
