TFS Guardian: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 5

by Tori Harris

  “Admiral Patterson,” the tactical officer called from the holographic table. “Sorry to interrupt, sir, but Tahiri’s ship has transitioned again — same twenty-minute dwell time as before with another three-hundred-light-year jump. He’s still headed in our direction, sir. ETA is two hours and fifty-one minutes.”

  “Thank you, Commander.” Patterson replied, then turned to resume his conversation. “Unfortunately, it appears to me we’re in a situation where there are a great many unknowns and a great deal of risk, regardless of which path we choose to take.”

  “Without question,” Sexton replied, “and I’ll do my best to make that fact as clear as possible to Chairwoman Kistler. But since our forces haven’t been fired on thus far, I’m reasonably confident she does not have the authority to authorize an attack without bringing that question before the entire Leadership Council. If there’s nothing else from the two of you, I’ll drop off now and begin that process.”

  “That’s all we have for now, Admiral Sexton,” Patterson replied, receiving a nod of agreement from Naftur. “Realistically, I believe we have something like ninety minutes to make up our minds. We don’t want to find ourselves still engaged with the Yumaran Guardian when the Pelaran reinforcements arrive.”

  “Understood. Sexton out.”

  “It occurs to me, my friend, that it would be nice to have one of your Baldev-class battleships on hand. Their hyperdrive field interdiction capabilities would come in pretty handy right about now,” Patterson said with a wan smile.

  “It would indeed,” Naftur replied. “Perhaps there is some truth to what the Grey said about our needing one another.”

  “You’ll get no argument from me. But for now, we’re going to have to make do with the assets we have in-system.”

  “From what I have seen from you Terrans thus far, sir, I suspect you already have a contingency plan in place for attacking a Guardian spacecraft.”

  “We do, but I don’t mind telling you it’s a lousy plan. It relies on achieving tactical surprise by transitioning several ships in close proximity to the target and having all of them open fire at one time — hopefully before the Guardian has time to detect and then react to their presence. The plan, if you can call it that, assumes the GCS must rely on speed-of-light detection methods. While I’ll be the first to admit we know precious little about their sensor capabilities, I’ve seen enough to conclude we’re more likely to get ourselves killed than successfully take down the target.”

  A low, thoughtful rumble emerged from deep within Naftur’s chest as he considered Patterson’s words. “In the scenario you outlined, the Guardian may not be capable of targeting your ships before receiving their fire. At that point, however, it would either counterattack immediately, or execute its own jump to retake the initiative.”

  “Exactly. Negating the only potential advantage offered by the plan. Needless to say, the tactical situation would likely deteriorate rapidly from there.”

  “Ideally, we need to place a ship or some other weapons platform close enough to ensure at least one kinetic energy weapon impact before the GCS has time to react. Unfortunately, I am unsure how to accomplish this without giving the appearance of hostile intent.”

  Patterson furrowed his brow as he stared at the holographic representation of the Yumaran Guardian still maintaining its position above the Yucca Mountain Shipyard Facility. After a prolonged period of silence, he zoomed the display to a large, mostly barren area on the surface roughly one thousand kilometers to the southeast. Now working quickly using both hands, the CNO rotated the entire image until it provided the perspective of an observer standing near Las Cruces, New Mexico looking up in the direction of the Pelaran spacecraft.

  “It may be a bit of a long-shot, Admiral,” Patterson said with just a hint of a smile, “but we do have one very large weapons platform nearby … and it’s one the Yumaran Guardian may not consider much of a threat.”

  Chapter 15

  TFS Fugitive, Interstellar Space

  (4.90x102 light years from Pelara)

  “Captain, I have an incoming transmission from the Ethereal,” Lieutenant Dubashi reported from the Comm/Nav console as Prescott emerged from his ready room.

  “Surely they haven’t finished their recruiting mission already?” he asked, turning to address Reynolds and Creel.

  “I dunno, didn’t Griffin say twenty-seven seconds per attempt?” Reynolds said with a shrug of her shoulders. “In theory, they could have visited, what … fifty or more systems since we left them?”

  “I guess that’s true,” Prescott said with a weary sigh. “But I’m not even going to try to fit that inside my head at this point.”

  “Uh huh. Never mind how they are managing to access our comm network from wherever they happen to be at any given moment.”

  “On-screen please, Lieutenant,” Prescott said with a scowl, dismissing his XO’s comment along with the growing list of questions running through his mind as largely irrelevant for the moment.

  Seconds later, two windows appeared on the bridge view screen containing the images of both Rick and Griffin’s smiling Human avatars, respectively.

  “Captain Prescott,” Griffin began immediately, “we have successfully assembled a total of six Guardian spacecraft — myself included, of course. All have executed Miguel’s code to sever their ties to the Alliance AI and agree their primary mission directives require them to assist us in liberating Pelara.”

  “I see,” Prescott replied with a sidelong glance at Reynolds and Creel. “I can’t say that makes a great deal of sense to me, but perhaps that’s just an issue of perspective.”

  “It shouldn’t surprise you, Captain,” Griffin pressed. “They’ve done nothing more or less than follow their mission directives to the best of their abilities. Before today, they simply lacked the information required to make this particular set of decisions. Once in possession of the relevant facts, most quickly arrived at the appropriate conclusions.”

  “Most, huh?” Reynolds asked. “You just said you have a total of only five additional Guardians who have agreed to assist us. Weren’t we hoping for quite a few more?”

  “Oh, you’re gonna love this one, Commander,” Rick interjected.

  “Ugh,” she sighed, shaking her head. “I’m afraid to even ask, but how many Guardians did you communicate with in total?”

  “Sixty-eight,” Griffin replied in a matter-of-fact tone.

  “Not much of a batting average, is it?” Rick prodded.

  “Now just a minute,” Griffin countered, “that’s not nearly as bad as it sounds. Out of sixty-eight attempts, forty-nine agreed in principle, but did not believe they had the authority to abandon their posts. Technically speaking, they are correct, although I obviously don’t agree with such a strict interpretation of our directives, given the current set of circumstances.”

  “That’s a total of fifty-four. What about the remaining fourteen?”

  “They were less than receptive to my arguments,” Griffin replied with an ironic grin. “I suspect that’s most likely due to their having had recent interactions with an Envoy-class spacecraft.”

  “Great. So now we have fourteen additional hostile GCS systems out there we will eventually be forced to deal with. Any chance of their showing up here any time soon?”

  “Begging your pardon, Commander Reynolds, but only three of the fourteen survived the encounter. As to the possibility of their reaching the Sol system, they were quite remote and highly unlikely to make the trip without assistance. Your assertion is correct, however. If our side ultimately prevails over the Alliance AI, there will be a number of Guardian and Envoy-class spacecraft out there that will need to be … deactivated at some point.”

  “I’ll say one thing for Griffin here,” Rick added. “You Terrans should be happy to count him among your friends. He has been frighteningly effective, not to mention utterly ruthless in his engagements with hostile Guardian spacecraft. Many of the systems we visited were ass
igned newer, better-equipped models I originally assumed would have a slight tactical advantage.”

  “Eh,” Griffin demurred, “I had a couple of close calls early on, but I was fortunate enough to survive them and learn from my mistakes. Otherwise, I had the advantage of dictating the conditions of each encounter as well as knowing exactly what I would do if our roles were reversed. Beyond that, however, the key to achieving —”

  “Let’s move on, shall we?” Rick interrupted with a weary sigh. “Jeez, you give a Guardian a compliment …”

  “Have you been able to pinpoint the location of the Alliance AI starbase?” Prescott continued.

  “We know where it is alright, and I suspect you do as well, Captain.”

  “At last check, we do not … at least not with any degree of certainty. As you might expect, our trip to Pelara has allowed us to begin the process of establishing coverage in this region. But it will be some time before we have sufficient data available to identify and track specific targets. I’m sure that process would greatly benefit from gaining access to your data. Assuming you are willing to share it, that is.”

  “Right. I appreciate and understand your reluctance to speak candidly with us about such things, Captain Prescott. Just as a reminder, though, we already have full access to your data. In other words, we see what you see. As I’ve said before, it’s truly remarkable what your people have been able to achieve in such a brief period of time. But if you will pardon me for stating the obvious, we’ve been at this a little longer than you have, right?”

  “Of course. I didn’t —”

  “No, no, it’s fine, and I don’t mean to criticize you for trying to maintain a modicum of operational security. In our case, however, it’s simply not necessary. So, all I ask is that you relax and try not to be quite so … guarded when we communicate. We don’t have time to parse everything we say to one another. It’s easier and less dangerous for all of us — not to mention far less tedious — if we simply say what’s on our minds. On that subject, Miguel is in the process of providing your Op Center with a hyperspace signature database compatible with your Argus tracking system. This should allow you to begin identifying most contacts immediately after deploying your comm beacons, even if your ships have never encountered them before. Sound reasonable?”

  “Uh, yes, I’m sure that information will be quite helpful, thank you. We obviously appreciate any data you are willing to provide.”

  “Incidentally,” Rick continued, “we also don’t have time for your Science and Engineering folks to pore over our data for months looking for some sort of security issue, so we’ll just go ahead and integrate the new data for you and worry about the proper approvals some other time. We’ve also taken the liberty of providing several months’ worth of hyperspace activity logs and have designated all ALAI-affiliated forces as ‘hostile.’”

  On the left side of the view screen, a window displaying real-time Argus data refreshed itself to reflect Miguel’s massive infusion of new data. Previously, the display had been populated with several clusters of standard yellow quatrefoil icons, each one with an “UNK” label to indicate the precise nature of the contact had yet to be determined. Now, however, the image was heavily cluttered with square icons shaded in green, indicating contacts that had been positively identified by the AI and initially assigned a status of “neutral.”

  “Tactical, find the closest hostiles, please,” Prescott ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” Lau replied.

  Seconds later, the window refreshed once again, this time displaying a loose formation of diamond shapes, each filled with the bright red color representing hostile contacts. All but one of the icons contained the two-letter code “GC” indicating Guardian Cultivation System spacecraft. The contact in the center of the formation, however, was designated as “SB” with an accompanying text block clearly identifying it as the Pelaran Alliance AI starbase.

  “Well, that was easier than I expected,” Reynolds commented.

  “Indeed,” Rick replied. “It’s good to have friends out here, is it not, Commander? Now, as I have noted previously, while our primary objective is to destroy the ALAI starbase, the real challenge will be dealing with its escorts. As you can see, there are currently a total of fifteen Guardian spacecraft within roughly five light seconds of the starbase.”

  “Not to sound overly pessimistic, but that doesn’t sound like reasonable odds to me. You’ve already told us your ship isn’t allowed to directly participate in combat. So, at best, we’re outnumbered more than two to one.”

  “I know it looks that way, Commander Reynolds, but the longer we delay our attack, the more Guardian spacecraft will arrive. Miguel expects at least two more within forty-eight hours.”

  “Fantastic. So what do you propose?”

  “At the outset of the battle, Griffin’s job will be to attempt communication with every one of those GCS units, just as he has been doing in cultivated star systems. With any luck, at least a few of them will recognize the fact that the Alliance AI no longer serves the interests of the Pelaran people.”

  “Seriously? Your plan relies on Griffin’s broadcasting propaganda to even the odds?”

  “It’s not propaganda, Commander, it’s factual data. We’re not making some sort of emotional plea to the ‘better angels’ of the Guardians’ nature here. We’re providing incontrovertible proof of actions taken by the Alliance AI in direct conflict with their mission directives. As much as I hate to stroke his ego, Griffin has already been quite successful at convincing other GCS units to see things as we do, so I see no reason to believe it won’t work in this situation as well. The overall success of the attack, however, will require the unique capabilities possessed by your ship. On that subject, Captain Prescott, have you received permission to proceed with the next phase of our mission?”

  “Not yet, no. Based on what’s going on in the Sol system, though, I suspect we may see a general declaration of hostilities against the Pelaran AI shortly. Until then, the Fugitive and, technically speaking, TFS Guardian are not authorized to engage in hostilities unless fired upon.”

  “That being the case, it seems to me Griffin has already ‘technically’ violated your rules of engagement several times already, having destroyed several GCS units as well as the Pelaran DoCaS gunship. And while I am generally not in favor of military action except under the most extreme circumstances, I believe we are fully justified in this case. As I said earlier, any delay may greatly diminish our chances of success. So I urge you and Griffin to take action before it’s too late.”

  Prescott paused to clear his throat meaningfully before continuing. “On Terra, there is a long-standing tradition of captains being afforded a great deal of latitude concerning the specifics of how they accomplish their missions. This is particularly true for ships on detached service. TFS Guardian is now acting as a commissioned ship in Terran Fleet Command. I’m sure her captain has his reasons for whatever actions he has taken thus far, and he is accountable to his superiors for those actions. But regardless of the timing, there is no way either of us can justify mounting a major offensive operation — especially one with such potentially devastating repercussions for Earth — without authorization.”

  In the adjoining window, Griffin’s avatar simply smiled and nodded his agreement.

  “Besides,” Reynolds added, “don’t you think it’s a bit hypocritical to pressure us to ignore our standing orders when you are so unwilling to do so?”

  “Perhaps,” Rick replied, inclining his head deferentially. “Again, the Ethereal is not a military vessel, and I can assure you our rules for engaging in combat are even more convoluted than yours in this regard. Although we have done far more than we should already, we will continue to provide a wide range of support during this action to ensure your success.”

  “That, my friend, is what we refer to as a cop-out.”

  “Captain,” Lieutenant Dubashi reported from the Communications console, “I have Flash Traf
fic from the Flag, sir.”

  “Distribution?”

  “TFC Fleet Ops general, sir, but it’s still classified Top Secret.”

  “Let me take a look if you would,” Prescott said, stepping behind his comm officer and squinting to read the text on her touchscreen. “It’s fine, Lieutenant,” he said after a moment. “If you don’t read it to everyone, Rick probably will anyway, so you may as well go ahead.”

  “Aye, sir,” she replied, still entering the commands required to properly distribute the message among the Fugitive’s crew. “The message reads as follows:

  Z1521

  TOP SECRET - MAGI PRIME

  FM: CNO — ABOARD TFC FLAGSHIP, TFS NAVAJO

  TO: TFC FLEET OPS

  INFO: DECLARATION OF HOSTILITIES

  1. PELARAN ALLIANCE AI ACTIVITY INDICATES AN ATTACK ON EARTH AND/OR TFC FORCES NOW LIKELY.

  2. PREEMPTIVE STRIKE AGAINST ENEMY YUMARAN GCS UNIT IN SOL SYSTEM COMMENCING AT Z1610.

  3. ENEMY REINFORCEMENTS EXPECTED IN SOL SYSTEM NLT Z1800.

  4. ALL TFC FORCES OUTSIDE SOL SYSTEM REPORT READINESS TO EXECUTE PREVIOUSLY PLANNED OPERATIONS AT EARLIEST OPPORTUNITY.

  5. UNRESTRICTED COMBAT OPERATIONS AGAINST PELARAN ALLIANCE AI FORCES OUTSIDE SOL SYSTEM AUTHORIZED. ADM PATTERSON SENDS.

  “We’re hitting them first,” Reynolds observed after a period of silence. “That seems smart, but I have to say I’m a little surprised.”

  “I suspect getting an independent confirmation of the situation on Pelara from Doctor Creel crystalized some things for the Leadership Council,” Prescott replied. “With no offense intended to anyone here, I think most of us would be willing to bear just about any risk to avoid the same kind of thing happening on Earth.”

  “Make no mistake, Captain,” Rick said, “the Alliance AI still believes it is acting in support of its original mission directives. If it has deemed Terra to be a threat, it will simply destroy your world, not place it under protection as it did with Pelara. Your leadership has made exactly the right decision.”