by PP Corcoran
John’s stunned face reflected the others around the table. What the hell?
“As is general public knowledge, the discovery of the Rubicon Cavern proved once and for all that we are not alone in the universe. It may be the library of a long dead civilisation, but the odds are that sooner rather later we are going to run into a living, technologically advanced civilisation. Would we all agree?” There was a general nodding of assent around the table. “As I said, that’s public knowledge. What isn’t is how that particular civilisation came to its demise. The government has encouraged scientists to expound theories on the subject; but we’ve known almost from the start that the Saiph were wiped out by a technically inferior but numerically superior race - they were outnumbered, not outgunned.”
John thought he heard the jaws of the people gathered around the table hit the floor.
Aleksandr smiled that fox’s smile again. “Oh it gets better, ladies and gents. We have since discovered that the Saiph knew they were losing the war and so set out to tinker with the evolution of worlds, to ensure that part of them would survive. One of those worlds was Earth, so we,” he looked around the table, “are the evolutionary result of their tinkering.”
Silence filled the room as minds raced to comprehend Aleksandr’s words.
“Now you understand why this has been kept a secret. From the Saiph’s library, we’ve identified seventeen other worlds where they’ve… ‘tinkered’, for want of a better word. It’s your mission to find out what happened on these other worlds. In complete secrecy we have, over the past three years, designed and constructed four stealth survey ships. We have incorporated as much Saiph technology as we presently understand.”
Aleksandr pointed towards each of the Navy captains. “You will each command one of these Vanguard class ships. The marines will be inserted onto the surface of any planet deemed worthy of further reconnaissance. It is imperative that you all understand the covert nature of our mission, both here at home and out there amongst the stars. At home, we cannot anticipate how people will react if they find out that they were manufactured by an alien race. Out there, we may make first contact with another intelligent species – peacefully we hope. But what if the race that destroyed the Saiph is still out there?” Aleksandr paused; he looked around the table, deliberately making eye contact with each of the personnel gathered. He continued in a tone he hoped relayed the gravity of his words. “We launch in six months, and you…” Aleksandr again slowly looked each of them in the eye, “have a lot to learn. I now turn you over to Lieutenant Commander Elizabeth Wilson, my chief of staff, to continue your introductory brief.”
John looked at the Lieutenant Commander with fresh eyes. To be the chief of staff to Adm. Vadis you had to be something special. Before him, stood a sixtyish, grey-haired, slightly chubby woman who looked like she would be more at home playing with her grandchildren than helping to run a secret mission.
“Good morning, ladies and gentlemen, and welcome to Operation Minerva. Before we begin, I must emphasise the covert status of this mission. Few are aware of this operation and those participating are chosen carefully. You are amongst the chosen few; as am I. To give you a little of my background: I retired from active service seven years ago. I enjoyed civilian life; I was enjoying watching my grandkids grow up.” With a quick glance and a smile at Aleksandr Elizabeth continued. “That was until Admiral Vadis approached me and not so politely told me that my commission had been reactivated. My mission was to go to the ass-hole of the universe and supervise the mining of some worthless rock. As you can imagine, I was full of the joys of spring at the prospect.” The last remark raised a few chuckles from around the room.
“It wasn’t until I was actually on the transport out here that the Admiral arrived at my door with a strong brandy and briefing pack in hand, before I knew what my real mission entailed. Sorry, I’ve no brandy for you,” Elizabeth joked with another smile. “But I completely understand how you feel right now. So, now to business.” She touched a control on the panel in front of her.
An image of a ship appeared above the centre of the table, slowly rotating to give everyone a three-sixty degree view. All the naval officers at the table lent forward for a better view, including John, who heard himself let out a low whistle. It was nothing like anything he had seen or heard of before. The marines tried not to show any interest in mere navy stuff – the Navy was only there to provide them transport after all – but John could see out of the corner of his eye the marine beside him intently studying the small ship, small but… elegant.
The ship was the black of darkest night, making it hard for John to make out details, as they seemed to merge. A blunted-off wedge-shaped bow morphed into a smooth rounded-off superstructure. John only just discerned the stern where again it was wedge shaped. As the image rotated. John made out more details: sunken engine protrusions in the rear wedge along the length of the beam from bow to stern small clusters; they looked remarkably like small laser turrets. Mounted just after the wedge at the bow, top and bottom, there was mounted a shallow turret holding twin cannon with the same design of shallow turret mounted above and below at the stern. This ship may be small but it looked like it could look after itself.
“This,” Elizabeth continued, “is the Vanguard class survey ship the Admiral mentioned earlier, weighing in at 15,980 tonnes and with a crew compliment of 135 naval and eighteen marines. She is only 325 meters long and 21 at the beam...”
“Seriously?” John thought, then realised the word had actually come out of his mouth.
“Yes, Captain?” said Elizabeth. “You have a question?”
Foot in mouth again, thought John as the whole table turned to look at him. Oh, well here goes. Deep breath. “If I heard you correctly, Commander, you said that the ship was only 325 metres long. With a crew of 135. Only four years ago, TDF Marco Polo was the best our technology had and the engines alone on that were something like two hundred metres long and massed six hundred tonnes each with a crew compliment of 2,100.”
“If I may, Commander,” interjected Aleksandr, “You are correct, Captain Radford. The difference between the Marco Polo and the Vanguard class is,” he pronounced slowly and definitively, “RE-MARK-ABLE… I must point out something you said yourself. The best our technology had.” He paused. “My staff have been moving heaven and earth to reverse engineer the Saiph’s engineering library. It helps that it looks like the Saiph knew that whoever found and accessed their library would need to be led by the hand. Therefore, our people have been racing ahead. We feel confident that the Vanguard incorporates the best Saiph technology that we currently understand. Does that answer your question Captain?”
“Yes, sir. Thank you,” replied John.
Aleksandr turned to Elizabeth, “Please continue, Commander.”
“Sir. Full technical specs are available in your briefing packs, but to summarise the high points, the Vanguards are not designed for head-to-head combat. They are primarily stealth covert survey ships. Designed to get you into and out of your objectives without alerting anyone to your presence. Each Vanguard incorporates the latest version of our chameleon stealth units, employing active optics to project whatever is behind the vessel onto the part of the vessel viewed by an enemy – effectively making the vessel invisible. Not everything is perfect; there is always the chance of failure – that an enemy cannot be deceived or has technology that defeats the chameleon system. To mitigate this, the Vanguard is armed with four dual turrets of particle cannon, as you can see on the image: two forward above and below the hull and two to the rear, again above and below the hull. For close-in defence, spread across the hull are Laser Area Denial weapons that should kill anything that gets too close for comfort. You also have embarked two Tanto class covert insertion shuttles for use by the embedded marines.”
“In relation to personnel. In your briefing pack, you will find the manning lists for your crews. They are the best the Navy has to offer. There are some... um...” E
lizabeth and Aleksandr exchanged a knowing look, “unorthodox individuals among them, but both the Admiral and myself decided that for a mission of this importance we needed the best. Whatever their previous commanding officers may have said, I strongly urge you to read between the lines when you read their personnel jackets. Now, let me turn to the marine contingent.”
At this, the four marine officers sat up a little straighter, as if everything they had heard so far was just a preamble to the important bit, the Marines.
“As you will have no doubt noticed, ladies and gentlemen, sitting to your right is a Marine major.”
John looked right and took his first proper look at the Marine officer beside him. It was then that he noticed that he was not the atypical marine. The haircut was there, tight to the skull, but he didn’t have the expected massive body builder bulk. It was then he noticed his eyes: dark blue and unblinking, like an eagle, lacking emotion displaying complete concentration. An unbidden shiver ran down John’s spine; the sort of man you do not want to meet in a dark alley. The marine looked at him as if he were working out where to strike him, and then much to John’s surprise, he stuck out his hand.
“Alec, Alec Murray,” a thick Scottish accent softly rolled the ‘r’s and was accompanied by a small smile on his lips.
“John Radford,” John shook the outstretched hand and held Alec’s eyes briefly before flicking back to the main speaker in the room.
“Each of these marines will command your marine detachments. As you will have quite a bit of leeway while on your missions, you may decide that a ground reconnaissance will be required. In consultation with the Marine Detachment Commanders on board, you will have the resources to plan and execute any such ground reconnaissance.” Elizabeth paused. “The key to mission success is information. This is not a guts and glory job. Earth badly needs to know what we are facing out there. The only way to do so is to explore, record the findings and get the information home. To this end, each Vanguard has a compliment of courier drones embarked to allow each ship to get its information back to us for evaluation and dissemination. It is our intention to share all relevant information gathered by each Vanguard with each Vanguard. As the mission is covert, the plan is for you to drop a stealthy communications relay buoy at your point of entry into each system. An incoming courier drone will hit it with a whisker laser to pass its messages, in turn. Your ships can hit the buoy with a whisker laser and download any messages stacked there for you. If, however, we do not hear from a ship within a seven-day window, that ship will be classed as lost. No further attempt will be made to communicate with it.” Elizabeth took the time to regard each of the men and women sat around the table. “Is that understood?”
There was general consensus from the gathered officers. “At this point, I would like, with the Admiral’s permission, to call a halt for today. Your senior officers will meet you tomorrow at zero nine hundred hours in the designated briefing rooms. An ensign is waiting for each of you at the outer doors to escort you to your accommodation. Admiral?”
Aleksandr stood. “Ladies and gentlemen, be under no illusions: you have the complete resources of the Terran Republic at your disposal. We must ascertain if there is any threat to humanity out there in the stars. Your mission is to locate, identify and return home without any one, or anything, knowing you have been there. Good day.”
The officers stood to attention as the Admiral left the room. John picked up his briefing chip, he turned and was startled to find himself looking straight into the face of Alec Murray, Alec smiled, “I don’t know about you but I could do with a beer. What say we pull rank on the ensign and get him to take us to the Officers’ Club?”
John gave a wary smile, unsure of Murray’s motives “Sounds like an idea,” John led the way to the door and punched the activator, he motioned Murray through “Lead on”
“Typical Navy, Let the Marines lead. Bet you don’t have any money either.”
John sniggered out loud, as Murray smiled at his own joke, a killer with a sense of humour? A novel thought, John decided that the marine mightn’t be a bad lad after all “Okay, first one’s on me, Alec.”
“Right answer! You’re too easy, are you sure you’re not English?” the smile reached Alec’s eyes.
#
Watching the departing officers on his desk display Aleksandr looked up as Elizabeth entered the room, he gestured for her to take a seat as he stood then went to the small bar in the corner of his office. He poured two double bourbon on the rocks before placing a glass in front of Elizabeth and returning to his seat. Aleksandr took time out to savour the bourbon’s aroma. The Russian in him still rebelled at the thought of drinking bourbon rather than the traditional vodka. He inwardly reminisced, how he, as a shiny new ensign, had boarded his first ship all those years ago and was introduced to a dyed in the wool Kentucky CO who’d promised Aleksandr he would disavow vodka and by the end of his tour would’ve converted to bourbon. Surprisingly, his CO had been right. Aleksandr took a small sip of bourbon allowing himself a final moment of pleasure before returning to work.
“So what do you think of them Elizabeth?”
Elizabeth tilted her head slightly as she considered his question savouring a sip of her drink, it gave her more thinking time.
“As far as the Marines go the Corps has done us proud. You couldn’t ask for a more professional and dedicated group. Of course Marines are not my area of expertise, it’s the ships captains that are. As we’ve discussed before, Admiral, the final selection of the Vanguard Captains is entirely your choice and…”
A raised hand from Aleksandr stopped her mid-sentence.
“I asked for your opinion Elizabeth, don’t beat about the bush.”
She frowned, she hated being put on the spot and Aleksandr knew it. Sometimes she wondered if he did it just for his own amusement. Taking a deep breath which she let out as an audible sigh she began.
“Captain Lewis is the most experienced. Having read his personal file it shows that he has turned down promotion on more than one occasion until the time came when the Admiralty just stopped offering it. It explains why at fifty-six he is still only a captain. He’s a born explorer, but take into account his Command Course results you’ll see he came top of the tactical phase. In my opinion he should’ve been forced to take promotion… If this all goes wrong and we get into any kind of shooting war out there we’ll need his experience in fleet command.”
Aleksandr made a mental note to drop a line to his old friend and fellow admiral, Ai Jing about Lewis. Elizabeth was right some people shouldn’t be given the choice to avoid promotion.
“Captain Papadomas is a student of history and its societies; he’s also a devoted family man. He joined as a seaman before making such a good impression on his commanding officers that he ended up being offered a commission as a mustang. He’s perfect for the role of exploration. A man with a keen thirst for knowledge but tempered by the need to return to his family, so… unwilling to take undue risks with his own or his crew’s safety.”
Elizabeth paused to take another sip of her bourbon.
“Captain Witsell, on the other hand, enlisted as a commissioned officer. Top of her class at the Academy she hasn’t put a foot wrong in her career and is without doubt a rising star on the command track, thus her place on this mission. My only concern is that she hasn’t been tested in a combat situation. Not that we’re expecting the Vanguards to go into combat but this is her first command of a major vessel. I’m afraid I must reserve judgement on her at the minute.”
Aleksandr eyed Elizabeth over the rim of his glass. Noting they both needed a fresh drink he lifted Elizabeth’s glass from her hands and went to the bar, still with his back to her he said “I see you have left our young Captain Radford to last. Impolite of you considering he is senior to Witsell.”
The harrumph that emanated from Elizabeth brought an un-admiral like grin to his face, he quickly recovered before turning to face Elizabeth and pass her the n
ow refilled glass.
“Unlike you Admiral, the exploits of Captain Radford do not impress me and you know fine well that the only reason that he is senior to Captain Witsell is that they appeared on the same promotion list and the letter R comes before the letter W.”
Now it was the admiral’s turn to buy himself some time by taking a sip of his drink. “Radford may be young for his position but the decisions that he was forced to make during the ‘Alexandria Incident’ show that when push comes to shove he puts the greater good and his duty first. Being responsible for deaths under your command so that you can ride to the rescue of civilians could be seen as making a tough call or…”
Elizabeth locked eyes with her admiral. “Putting your crew in danger to satisfy your need for glory hunting.”
CHAPTER SIX
The Journey Begins
Charon Base - Orbit of Pluto - Sol System
John Radford sat back in his seat on the command deck of the new Vanguard class survey ship, the Henry Hudson. It was so new that his seat still squeaked. The last six months had flown past. From his first sight of what was to be his new ship still shrouded by the cradling arms of a construction dock to the myriad of briefings led by Lt. Cmdr. Elizabeth Wilson and her underlings. Where did that woman get her energy? She seemed to be everywhere, had an answer for everything. If she did not know, she knew a man that did.
No wonder Adm. Vadis had dragged her out of retirement to be his right arm.
John glanced around the bridge, taking in the officers and ratings preparing the ship for launch. The Admiral had not been joking when he said that John and his fellow captains where getting the best the Navy had to offer. His comment about reading between the lines of his crew’s personnel jackets was so true. Taken at face value, the majority of his crew were the cream of the crop, but some appeared to receive strangely low ratings from their past commanding officers. Unless you read into it. You really could not blame their COs. The TDF was not a large force. Split into its composite parts of Ground, Marine, Navy and Survey it got even smaller. It would not be the first time, or the last, John was sure, that a CO would write a neutral, if not slightly shaded, report on one of his subordinates in the hope of keeping them. Frustrating for the subordinate but good for a lazy CO.
