Black Ops (Expeditionary Force Book 4)

by Craig Alanson

  Damn it! Five ships that would have nothing to do for over eight hours. What if one of them got bored and decided to scan the area, or even fly over to check out the dead hulks of three Kristang transports? “What type of ships?” I prayed they were unarmed transports. No such luck.

  “Two battlecruisers and three light cruisers.”

  Crap. I checked my zPhone; the app to activate Mr. Nukey was on the second screen. According to the status, Nukey was ready to go at any time. If he needed to do his job, I would not be able to give him a performance evaluation afterward. “Is there any indication they are going to do anything other than wait for the wormhole to open?”

  “No, Joe. They are just maintaining formation. All ships queried the sensor network, and they are all satisfied with the data I fed them.”

  “This isn’t good, but I don’t see that we can do anything other than continue clearing these ships of booby traps, and hope those little green MFers go through the wormhole.”

  “I agree. Hey, Joe?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You be extra, extra careful over there, please?”

  “I’m touched, Skippy. Thank you for caring about me. You’re a good guy.”

  “Oh. Uh, I was going to say that if you do something stupid and an IED explodes now and the Thuranin see it, we’re all screwed. But let’s go with me being a good guy.”

  “Asshole.”

  I told the teams of both ships about the Thuranin ships, and reminded them all to be extra super-duper awesomely careful. As if they needed to be told to be careful around explosives; especially crude, hurriedly-built amateur explosive devices that just might decide to detonate on their own because they were bored and lonely.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Clearing both ships of IEDs took 30 percent longer than we estimated, although we had been making a wild guess. The other transport ship was declared free of booby traps twenty eight minutes before the ship I had been working on; I like to think me being on the team didn’t slow us down. It didn’t matter anyway, because those five Thuranin warships were still hanging around, and the wormhole wasn’t going to open for more than an hour. With nothing else to do, I ordered downtime for everyone. We ate and rested as best we could; some of the SpecOps people actually took naps. One of them, a Ranger whose name shall not be mentioned except it rhymes with ‘Slauren Spoole’, might have snored a bit. Or more than a bit.

  It’s funny how when you drool in your sleep, and you are in zero gravity, it doesn’t run down your chin, it floats in front of your face.

  We waited until the wormhole was scheduled to open. We waited five minutes, then five minutes more. Skippy did not give us the All Clear signal, or any signal at all. Finally, I broke communications silence and pinged the Dutchman on a low-power, tightbeam laser burst transmission that lasted half a nanosecond. Skippy had assured me there was a near-zero chance of the Thuranin detecting the transmission; I still felt unprofessional breaking silence. The way I justified it to myself was that if the Thuranin were on their way toward us and I needed to activate Mr. Nukey, I wanted time to make a boring and useless speech to the crew. I’m sure they would have preferred to let Nukey do the talking for us. “Skippy, what the hell is happening out there?”

  “I do not know, Joe. Those five ships are powered up, but they are not maneuvering into position to go through the wormhole.”

  “Oh, for crying out loud. Did one of them get a flat tire or something?”

  “Again, I do not know. I would know, if you didn’t have a hissy fit about the idea of me poking around in their databases, you knucklehead.”

  “I do not have hissy fits, Skippy. I have, uh, legitimate concerns.”

  “Uh huh. They just sound like hissy fits.”

  “I- Can you guess what those ships are doing?”

  “Maybe they ordered a pizza and they’re waiting for it to be delivered through the wormhole? How the hell should I know? Oh, hey, here’s a crazy idea; I could dip into the navigational database of one ship, and-”

  “No! N-O. Do not do that.”

  “I can spell, Joe. You’re the grammar challenged one. We- wait, there’s a new development.”

  “What?”

  “Will you please shut your crumb catcher for a minute?”

  I shut up. To burn off nervous energy, I checked the connection to Nukey on my zPhone. Then I flipped open the cover of Nukey’s status panel to check again. That drew alarmed looks from the crew, proving once again that I am an idiot.

  “Ok, good news, Joe,” Skippy announced. “The reason five ships were holding back is because three star carriers just came in through the wormhole. Now the five ships are maneuvering to go through. I intercepted a transmission between the two groups of ships; these three star carriers are in a hurry, and will be jumping away within ten minutes.”

  I breathed a sigh of relief and closed Nukey’s status panel cover. Half an hour later, our dropship was headed back to the Flying Dutchman at high acceleration. And within the hour, I was freshly showered and on the bridge as I watched the duty officer, Major Simms, monitor the process of taking the first Kristang transport aboard one of our three docking platforms. One of our asteroids was now in the exact position that transport had occupied, with the hardened balloon shroud in place with the correct shape and level of shininess. Skippy had removed the beacon from the transport and attached it to the asteroid. With any luck at all, the Thuranin would never know we had just stolen, or technically salvaged, two Kristang transports ships.

  It took another three hours until the second transport ship was firmly secured to a docking platform, and its replacement asteroid was in position. We not only needed to make sure the asteroid had the same mass as the ship it was replacing, within one percent. We had to make sure the shroud balloon was the same size, and reflected the same amount of dim starlight as the ship we had just salvaged. And before we left, the asteroid had to be moving in the same direction and speed as the ship, plus the asteroid had to be tumbling at the exact same rate. Overall, this simple operation to pick up two transport ships no one wanted was way too freakin’ complicated. According to Skippy, he thought it very likely those shrouded asteroids would drift onward, alone, until the end of time. If, hundreds of years from now, anyone ever investigated the one remaining transport ship and the two asteroids, they would have one hell of an intriguing mystery to explore.

  We had debated the wisdom of accelerating the ship a significant distance before we jumped; so that if Thuranin ships arrived shortly after we jumped, they would not wonder why there was a remnant jump signature close to what was supposed to be three dead Kristang transports. We could not use quantum resonators to help disguise where we jumped to, because using resonators would be like holding up a huge sign saying ‘Highly Suspicious Activity Here’. Also, we did not have many resonators aboard the ship anyway. In the end, I decided remaining in the area longer was the greater risk, so I ordered Chang to jump us away as soon as possible.

  “All decks and systems report ready for jump,” an officer in the CIC reported.

  Lt. Colonel Chang, the duty officer in the command chair, acknowledged the report with a curt nod, and spoke without checking with me. I approved of that; Chang was in command of the ship right then, and he should not feel he needed to clear everything with me. “Pilot,” he ordered, “jump us away.”

  “Aye, Sir,” the lead duty pilot replied. Our two pilots, a British guy and a French woman, exchanged quiet words, then a button was pressed, and the starfield shifted. “Jump completed successfully. We are within,” the Brit checked his display, “one hundred ninety two meters of our target jump coordinates.”

  “One ninety two? That’s sloppy, you’re slipping, Skippy,” I teased.

  “Ahh, we were in a hurry to get out of there, so I didn’t have time to factor in the exact masses of our two new ships,” he said with a defensive tone.

  “I was just busting your balls, Skippy. That was remarkable, as always.”
r />   “The most remarkable thing about me, is how I make the remarkable seem ordinary.”

  “Yeah, that’s it,” I rolled my eyes. “Colonel Chang?”

  He ran the crew through the preparation for another jump, and the ship distorted spacetime again. We wanted to get far away from the wormhole cluster, in case Thuranin ships jumped in shortly after we left, and saw the distinctive remnants of our jump wormhole. A ship with a bored or curious captain, or a captain hoping for a promotion, might decide to pursue us to investigate. Hopefully even a very ambitious captain would give up after one jump.

  “Where to now, Skippy?” I asked.

  “First, we eject that third asteroid that we don’t need. Then, ugh, I guess we should swing by and pick up your girlfriend in the lifeboat-”

  “Nagatha is not my girlfriend, Skippy.”

  “That’s what you think, she would have another opinion about that.”

  “Fine. Those are the obvious moves. What about after that? You need some place to work on converting the transports into something useful for the attack.”

  “I do, and interstellar space is not convenient. The hulls of those ships have been cold-soaking for too long, they need to be warmed up before I can make major modifications and get their systems operational again. There is an uninhabited star system we could get to by transiting a wormhole; I would need to connect it to a wormhole that has been dormant. This star system is a safe place to work; according to all the survey data I have, no one has ever been there.”

  “Ever? Never ever?” I asked skeptically.

  “Never, Joe. I just told you, the wormhole near that system is dormant, so no one can get there. It’s another boring red dwarf, no one wants to go there. I’ll send the data to you and Chotek. Before we go to work on building a Q-ship, we should stop by a Ruhar data node, to check if anything has changed with the negotiations.”

  “A data node?” Chang turned in the command chair to look at me. “Is that like a relay station? It will not be dangerous for us to approach?” I knew Chang was thinking back to the difficult, complicated and dangerous operation it took for us to capture a Thuranin data relay station. We could not take the risk, and did not have the time, for another op like that one.

  “Sort of,” Skippy explained. “The Ruhar have many types of data nodes, the one I’m thinking of is an automated signal transfer station; it is unmanned and used to relay signals from a star system to the Oort Cloud region where Jeraptha ships transit. The data node I have in mind is near the edge of a star system where the Ruhar have recently established a colony; the system does not have a permanent military presence. We jump in, I ping the data node with authentication codes, and download the data we need.”

  “Just like that?”

  “Just like that, Joe. Easy peasy. We don’t need to do any crazy shit like stuffing a dropship inside a comet, or capturing a relay station. This time, we are not trying to get military secrets from the Thuranin, all we need is Ruhar federal government communications. The negotiation with the Fire Dragons is not a closely-held secret, now that federal government has approved the talks to proceed.”

  “You can do some awesome Skippy magic thing, make this data node think we are a Jeraptha or Ruhar ship?”

  “Oh, yeah, no problemo. I’ll use the IFF codes of a Ruhar ship to contact the data node, then instruct the node to erase its memory of us after we leave. This will be easy, Joe. Trust me.”

  Crap. Now I needed to persuade Hans Chotek to approve us visiting a Ruhar-inhabited star system, and approve us screwing with a dormant wormhole so Skippy Claus and his little helper elfbots could take our salvaged transports ships to Santa’s Workshop. Checking the main bridge display, I saw the countdown timer indicated we could not jump again for thirty seven minutes. “I’ll talk with Chotek. In the meantime, Colonel Chang, eject that asteroid and move us away, I don’t want that thing anywhere near us when we jump.” We did not need another incident of a large mass distorting our jump wormhole.

  One thing that bugged the hell out of me about Hans Chotek was- Ok, there were a lot of things about him that bugged the hell out of me. This time, specifically, it was my total lack of ability to predict his mood, or what he would do. On my way to his office, I stopped to splash water on my face and tidy up my Army Combat Uniform. I regretted that camo pattern was the uniform of the day aboard the ship. For a discussion with Chotek, I wanted to be wearing at least my Class B Army Service Uniform, because I figured that would make him take me more seriously as a senior officer. Changing uniforms now would only tell Chotek that I was nervous.

  My uniform top was stuck to my back from the sweat of nervous tension. There wasn’t time for a shower; I took my top off, tossed it in a bin, and got an identical top from a closet. Skippy would get his Magical Laundry Fairy bots working on cleaning my dirty clothes, and they would be back in the closet or drawers the next morning.

  Before walking into his office, I mentally prepared my arguments in favor of contacting a Ruhar data node and then taking the ship to an unknown, unexplored star system where Skippy could set up Santa’s Workshop. Organizing my thoughts was not a strength for me, but I did the best I could in the time available. Knocking on the doorframe, I saw he was head-down at his desk, reading something on a tablet. “Mr. Chotek?”

  To my surprise, he pushed the tablet aside, stood up, and offered me a handshake. An enthusiastic, arm-pumping handshake. “Colonel Bishop,” he grinned. “Congratulations to you, and to your crew. That was a truly outstanding operation, outstanding,” he emphasized. Maybe he thought ‘outstanding’ was something the US military said a lot, I had to remember his native language was German.

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  He released my hand, gestured for me to sit, and plopped back down in his chair with a satisfied smile. “Colonel, when you presented me what seemed like an overly complicated plan to pick up several discarded starships, I was skeptical. More than skeptical. But we did it! We have two alien starships to work with, and there was no risk to us or our mission.”

  “We may only get one Q-ship out of those two transports, Sir,” I reminded him.

  He waved a hand dismissively. Nothing could ruin his good mood. “Mr. Skippy will handle that, I suppose.” My impression was he was so relieved the operation had not been a disaster, he wasn’t letting anything kill his buzz. “You wanted to speak with me, Colonel?”

  “Yes, Sir.” I launched into Phase One of my argument in favor of pinging a Ruhar data node. As I finished and was taking a breath to plunge forward with Phase Two, he interrupted.

  “Good, good. We should get updated intelligence before we proceed, I was going to suggest we do something like that.”

  Maybe it was hard for me to take an unexpected ‘Yes’ and run with it, or maybe I’m just an idiot, because my brain locked up and I heard myself saying “Skippy assures me there is minimal risk in us contacting this data node.” Idiot! I told myself. I should have kept my mouth shut and run out of his office as soon as he said ‘Yes’.

  Chotek’s eyes narrowed and his smile slipped just a bit. “You disagree? You think the risk is substantial?”

  “No! No, I agree with Skippy’s analysis. I, um,” I gave him that weak, awkward goofy smile that was on my face every time someone took a photo of me. “Sir, I had a whole persuasive argument thought out. You caught me off guard,” I admitted.

  That restored Chotek’s sunny mood. “Is that all?”

  “No, Sir. After we update our intel, assuming the negotiations are still on, Skippy wants us to go to an uninhabited red dwarf star system so he can work on a Q-ship. Or ships.” I explained about Skippy needing to awaken a dormant Elder wormhole, and that the star system was totally unexplored. My fear was Chotek would hear the word ‘unexplored’ and panic, fearing that entering a star system we knew little about was too risky.

  He surprised me again. “Unexplored? Hmm. That sounds good. If no one has ever been there, no one will be there now to threaten us
. Ask Skippy to send me whatever data he has on this star system. I can make a final decision, after we contact the data node and confirm the negotiation conference is still on schedule. Again, Colonel Bishop, please convey my congratulations to your crew.”

  His uncharacteristic bubbly mood was infectious. “Sir, tomorrow is our formal dinner,” the night when all the military people wore formal uniforms to dinner. “I think the crew would appreciate you giving them congratulations yourself. We shouldn’t break out the champagne until we know the Ruhar aren’t sending a ship to earth, but we could celebrate completing this phase of the mission with a nice bottle of wine?” One thing I knew about Hans Chotek was that he loved a good bottle of wine; Major Simms had brought aboard several cases of wines that were known to be Chotek’s favorites. While I usually preferred beer, I could drink a glass of wine with our fearless leader, if it meant Chotek’s good mood would continue.

  “Thank you, Colonel. Yes, I would like that. I will address the crew at dinner tomorrow.”

  “Outstanding, Sir,” I mimicked his words on purpose. The next thing I needed to do was check that the Indian team which was galley duty the next day, cooked something that Chotek enjoyed. And that went well with his favorite wine.

  On the way to the Ruhar data node, we made a detour to pick up our lifeboat and perhaps more importantly, Nagatha. “Hello, Nagatha,” I greeted her as Desai was in the tricky process of maneuvering the ship to take the lifeboat back aboard. Because the lifeboat had almost no means of moving itself, we had to move our entire star carrier to get the bulky lifeboat onto a docking platform. I stayed in my office to chat with Nagatha, while Chang handled the command chair. “We have been busy.” I was eager to tell her the adventures we had gone through just to pick up two junk spaceships that no one wanted.