by Neal Jones
"And what if it doesn't?" Jennifer snapped. "I'm not raising our daughter in a damn war zone!"
"Neither am I! That's why I'm letting you both leave. I'll keep you updated and let you know when it's safe to return. Trust me, Jen, this will all blow over soon. This whole situation is just a rough spot. Gabriel and Saveck are going to get us past it."
"'Letting us leave'?" Jennifer gave a derisive snort. "This is my decision, Ben. Just like it was your decision to take this assignment in the first place. Now we're even."
"So that's what this is really about! You're still pissed at me for dragging you and Emalie out here against your will!"
"Yes, I am! I tried to make the best of it, but that bullshit yesterday is more than I can handle. I know that your career choice carries a few risks, but I never signed up for this!" She paused, exhaling to vent some of her anger. She continued in a softer tone. "I'm sorry, Ben, but I can't spend every second of my day wondering if Emalie will be all right, or if the Chrisarii man sitting at a table by himself on the other side of the restaurant has a bomb in his briefcase." Her voice almost broke again, and the naked fear in her dark eyes made Ben's gut wrench. Before he could respond, however, Jennifer had backed up far enough for the door to open. "Emalie, dinner's ready. Daddy will play with you after we eat."
"What are we having?"
"Chicken. I programmed it the way you like. Come wash your hands."
"Yay!"
Emalie bounded into the kitchen and pulled out her stool so she could stand at the sink. Her mother turned on the water, and they both washed their hands while Ben looked on. Emalie began a steady stream of chatter, telling her daddy all about her surprise shopping trip with mommy. For once, neither parent chided her for talking too much, and their only input to the conversation during dinner was to remind her to eat what was on her plate.
Chapter 14
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( 1 )
Captain McKenna sipped her Earl Grey, eyes narrowed as she stared thoughtfully at the mesmerizing display on the forward viewscreen. The Dauntless bridge crew had spent the last hour verifying the data that Commander Decev had left behind for them. Two probes had been launched, and their telemetry was lost as soon as they crossed the chaotic threshold of the writhing vortex which bloomed to life in the center of the massive ring. Now, McKenna was considering taking the Dauntless after them, but the fact that four days had passed and the Apollo's crew had not yet returned made Kathryne pause. Her crew waited patiently at their various posts, quietly tending to their respective tasks. McKenna set her mug in its holder in the arm of her chair and stood.
"Karri," She said, turning to Lieutenant Commander Benson. "Let's assume for the sake of argument that this is, in fact, an artificial wormhole and that it actually leads somewhere. Would our stingers withstand the physical stress of the vortex?"
The Dauntless' chief science officer didn’t need to check her data before she gave an answer. She'd already double checked everything in preparation for almost any strategy which the captain might come up with. "I believe so, ma'am, but I can't say for absolute certain either way. Assuming this is an artificial wormhole, chances are good that the probes made it through and the stingers would as well."
McKenna nodded, satisfied with this response and glanced at her first officer. "Commander, take a shuttlecraft and a squad of five stingers."
"Yes, ma'am."
There was a definite note of excitement to his voice, and McKenna wished she could share his exuberance at diving into the unknown. As McCoy, Benson and Zamora left the bridge, the captain returned to her chair and sipped her Earl Grey. The tea was lukewarm but she didn't mind. Instead, she returned her attention to the alien artifact which loomed large in the forward viewscreen. By tweaking certain variables in the comm frequency Ensign Juarez had found a way to keep the vortex permanently active. McKenna had hoped that this would reveal something more about the gateway or the wormhole itself but, thus far, no new data had presented itself. McKenna felt an increasing disquiet in her gut, and she suppressed it. There was no evidence that the probes had been destroyed - or the Apollo's crew for that matter - and the captain had always been a believer in the old adage which taught that no news was good news.
Except when it came to exploring the unknown. Kathryne McKenna excelled at the responsibilities of her rank because of her attention to detail, her strict adherence to regulations and protocol, and a natural talent for inspiring the best in those under her command. A clean, precise daily schedule was a comfort to McKenna, not a prison, and the rulebook was a bible to guide her in most military matters. That bible, however, rarely helped when it came to passing beyond the rim of charted territory. Crossing into the unknown meant that one needed to improvise, taking each situation as it came and generally bending – or damn near breaking off – the rules. And, of course, there was always the chance that, as soon as one rounded the next bend in the proverbial galactic river, one might get one's ass blown away and never know what hit him/her. And that, more than anything, is what scared the shit out of McKenna.
There was a contingent of naval admiralty and senators in parliament who believed that the military had no business exploring the unknown. The job of the navy was to serve and protect the realm, not go tramping about the galaxy like archeologists, scientists and anthropologists. That was a job better suited for civilians, and there had even been talk in recent decades of creating a new branch of the military, a quasi-naval organization whose sole responsibility would be to chart new territories and make first contact with alien civilizations. There were many good arguments for this proposal, but one argument which had kept the idea on the drawing board was the need for military discipline and protection for the exploratory teams. There was no substitute for Marine infantry units, as one never knew what dangers and/or risks one might face from one star system to the next. Not only that, there was a problem with funding such an organization. Taxpayer dollars were always stretched to the limit, and, after the costly war with the Chrisarii Alliance - as well a dozen other minor conflicts currently being fought among various member worlds of the Federation - there was no extra money left over to launch such a large scale operation.
So, for the time being, the navy's responsibility was not just to serve and protect the realm, but to also expand its borders by traversing into the uncharted expanse beyond them. Thus far in her career, McKenna had done very little exploring. She had graduated from the academy two years before the Beta Erendii War began, and, during the decade long conflict, she had served on the front lines in two different battle groups. After the war, when she was promoted to commander, McKenna had been assigned to the ECS Churchill, which was part of the twenty-second fleet, which was stationed in the Onswor sector. That sector was on the border of Federation space, next door to uncharted territory. Fleet Admiral Thomason decided to use the new peacetime to send an expedition beyond the rim. During McKenna's three years aboard the Churchill she had experienced only two situations similar to what she and her crew were facing now, and on both occasions, the Churchill's crew had made it through safe and sound. But back then McKenna hadn't been the one in the captain's chair, the one who was responsible for the success or failure of a mission with a dozen unknown variables. That was what unnerved her the most, what stirred the anxiety in her gut and gave her a sour taste in the back of her mouth. With any other mission there was a clear set of objectives, and the rulebook provided the protocols that allowed a military crew to reach those goals. There were very few unknown variables.
But this was different. There was too much guesswork, too much speculation, too many theories and not enough facts. Was this truly an artificial wormhole or something else entirely? Was there anything on the other side of the tunnel or just oblivion? Was Commander Decev and her crew still alive, and would McCoy's crew make it through as well? Or was all of this a fool's errand, and if she took her ship into the vortex, would she and her crew survive? McKenna realized that her index finger was ta
pping a rapid rhythm on her armrest, and she forced it to be still.
"The Rubicon has just launched," Lieutenant Reyes stated. He had taken Zamora's place at tactical. "Five stingers are also in formation around it. Forty seconds to event horizon."
McKenna stood, walking to her customary point just behind Voorhees' chair. "Let's see it."
The view shifted and magnified, eventually revealing the six dark specks as they sailed toward the gigantic maw of the alien vortex. The blue-green energy writhed and rippled like the stormy currents of an ocean, and the captain's gut twisted even more as she watched the tiny ships disappear across the threshold. Reyes confirmed the entry, and now there was nothing to do but wait.
No sooner had McKenna returned to her seat and reached for her Earl Grey than Reyes was reporting the return of one of the stingers. The captain was on her feet once more, the tea forgotten. "Just one?"
"Yes, ma'am. Lieutenant Piccinetti's. He's sending us a text-only message. There was an incident on the other side of the wormhole. He'll give us the details when he docks."
"That was quick," Juarez remarked. "They were gone for less than a minute."
"Is there any sign at all of the Rubicon or the other stingers?" Only because of her experience was McKenna able to keep the desperation out of her voice.
Reyes rechecked his readouts and shook his head. "No, ma'am."
"Staff briefing in ten minutes. Mister Ross, you have the con. Ensign, shut down the vortex."
"Aye, ma'am." Lieutenant Ross was Benson's replacement.
McKenna was already marching to her ready room and didn't hear Juarez's affirmative response.
( 2 )
"As soon as we came out of the vortex, we came under attack." Lieutenant Piccinetti was briefing the Dauntless senior crew in the wardroom. McKenna was leaning forward, elbows resting on the table, hands folded, her gaze fixed intently on the pilot. He hadn't been given time to change, so he was still in his flight suit sans helmet. "My targeting scanners couldn't lock onto the source of the enemy fire, but since I was ordered by Commander McCoy to return to the wormhole at the slightest sign of trouble, that's what I did. I don’t know what happened to the rest of the squad or the Rubicon. We did emerge very close to a class four planet, so it's possible the others were able to crash land. End of report." He stood at ease, waiting for the captain's response.
It was Lieutenant Commander Lee who spoke first. "How long was your ride through the wormhole?"
"Twenty seconds, maybe less."
"You're positive you weren't able to detect anything about the source of the weapons fire?" McKenna asked.
"Positive, ma'am."
"And you're certain it was a class four planet?"
"Yes, ma'am."
She nodded, suppressing a sigh of frustration, and leaned back. "Thank you, lieutenant. That'll be all."
As the pilot walked out of the wardroom, Lieutenant Reyes turned to the captain. "I think we should go after them."
"I think we should wait," Doctor Burke said. "We give them an hour, then we go. It's possible that others might return with a more detailed report of what happened."
"And what about Commander Decev's crew?" Daniel Reyes was a stout, beefy man who always spoke as if he was an authority on whatever topic was the center of discussion. "It's safe to assume that they encountered this same predicament, and if they survived a crash landing, they've been on that planet for four days now. They're probably in dire need of medical assistance, and now our own team is also on the surface. The longer we sit here and debate this, the greater the risk of us not finding anyone alive."
"I agree," Lee added. "To hell with the risk. We go in there with deflector screens up and our offnet hot." "Offnet" was short for "offensive network". Lee was a tactical officer at heart, and she relished a good combat. Fire flashed in her dark eyes as she tapped a nervous rhythm on the tabletop.
McKenna didn't like it, but she concurred with Reyes and Lee. There was no choice here. All other options had been exhausted, and the captain silently prayed that she wasn't taking her crew to their final mission. She stood. "We'll enter the gateway in ten minutes. Dismissed." She led her senior staff to the bridge, and, as they poured out of the PTLs, McKenna began issuing orders. "Red alert. Raise deflector screens, bring the offnet on line, and stand by to launch the second and third fighter squadrons."
As her crew scrambled to obey, McKenna sat in the command chair and activated the safety harness. A seat belt slid out from a hidden compartment and sealed itself across her waist while the captain punched in the command to bring up the miniature tactical screen from its resting place in her armrest.
"Navigation ready," Voorhees announced.
"Tactical ready."
"Sciences ready."
"Communications ready." Juarez's nervousness was evident from the tremor in his voice, and he cleared his throat.
There was a beep from the comm panel on the left armrest of the command chair.
"Engineering ready."
"Medical ready."
"AGC ready. Second and third squadrons are standing by."
McKenna nodded, pleased with the rapid response of her crew. As usual, they had readied themselves far ahead of her ten minute deadline. "Mister Juarez, activate the vortex."
The silent emptiness of the ring's center exploded into writhing brilliance, and Voorhees activated the forward viewscreen's visor to dim the brightness that washed over the crew like exploding sunlight.
"Set course, ensign. Ahead full thrusters. Once we've crossed the event horizon allow the vortex's gravity field to propel us."
"Aye, ma'am. Activating thrusters. Forty seconds to event horizon."
The massive, oblong projectile that was the Dauntless lurched forward, inching closer to the gateway like a large, spiny fish headed for the deeper chasms of the ocean. McKenna gripped the arms of her chair as the vortex grew to fill the entirety of the viewscreen. There was only a slight tremor as the ship crossed the event horizon, but it smoothed out as soon the whole of the Dauntless was in the grip of the wormhole's gravity well. It was now sailing on a sea of energy, carried by currents and ribbons of light, and there were occasional flashes of brilliance that, to McKenna, resembled miniature supernovas. They exploded and faded in a breath - there in the upper corner of the screen, then in the lower, then on the right. The tunnel appeared endless and yet, despite the writhing, swirling, ever changing forms that the currents took, there wasn't the slightest jolt or tremor in the deck plating. If McKenna closed her eyes, she would never believe that her ship was in motion.
Just as Lieutenant Piccinetti said, the ride was over almost as soon as it began. There was a slight bump at the end, just as the Dauntless shot out of the gateway's maw, and the shifting currents of the energy river were replaced by the reddish brown curve of a planet which occupied the right half of the viewscreen. The left half showed a calm, silent field of stars.
"All stop," McKenna barked. "Report."
"Nothing in the immediate sensor range," Reyes stated crisply. "Expanding the tactical grid to two hundred kilometers."
"Mister Ross, begin scanning the planet."
"Aye, ma'am." It took only few moments for the results to pop up. "Atmosphere is oxygen/nitrogen, but it's far from clean. Sensors are detecting several dozen pollutants, all of which are thirty percent above standard for a class four world with a level three industrial civilization. There's also high concentrations of theta radiation, almost sixty parts per million. This planet has definitely seen better times."
Reyes frowned as he pulled up another readout. "There's a small debris field at coordinates four-two-seven-mark-seven-six-three." He pinpointed the spot and magnified it on the forward viewscreen. "Residual energy signatures suggest that this was the source of the enemy fire which Lieutenant Piccinetti referred to. The size of the field suggests that this was a weapons platform, or, at the very least, a large satellite."
"There's a satellite network orbiting the
planet," Ross added, "but it doesn't appear hostile. There's no energy signatures suggesting weapons capabilities. I'm now scanning the surface." There was a tense silence as everyone waited for his report. "I've got a total of nine bio-signs. Five are clustered in one quadrant, four in another. They're not far from each other, but – "
He was cut off by Reyes' thundering tone. "Four objects just entered tactical range! They're targeting us, and energy levels suggest they're hostile!"
"Launch the stingers!" McKenna ordered. "Fire at will, Mister Reyes!"
From the Dauntless' underbelly twenty hornets sailed from their berth, fanning out like the black-and-yellow insects from which they took their name. The four objects were large spheres, each four times the size of a hornet, and they, too, fanned out to surround the Dauntless. Compared to the massive starship the weapons platforms were mere rodents, but they packed a powerful punch. One fired from aft, one from fore, the third from below, and the fourth from above. They pummeled their mammoth prey, biting and ravaging with laser claws, tearing at the deflector screens with ferocious abandon.
On the bridge, the crew grabbed hold of their armrests or consoles as the ship rattled and shook around them. Several new alarms clamored to life, signaling damage to various sections, and Reyes stared at his readouts, incredulous.
"Our deflector strength is down to forty percent! We'll lose our screens completely in ten minutes or less!"
The stingers were nothing more than insects, their weapons having no effect on the mechanical predators. The machines were ignoring them completely, focusing all attention on the Dauntless. Second squad leader relayed his report to AGC control, who then relayed it to Juarez. Juarez reported the facts to Captain McKenna, and she quickly arrived at a decision.
"Mister Voorhees, can we get back to the gateway?"
It was Reyes who answered. "Two more targets are moving into range from aft! They're between us and the gateway!"
"So I guess that's a 'no'," McKenna muttered. She raised her voice to shout, "Recall the stingers! Get us out of here, ensign! Pick a direction and move!"
