"Since we're still not sure what, or who, caused this disaster we are pressing ahead with our investigation. CENTCOM will be notified of our findings and we will soon be breaking orbit for our next destination. I'm going to be straight with you. The evidence and intelligence we have available to us points to a faction within the Warsaw Alliance. To confirm or disprove this we will be departing for Oplotom, a world right across the accepted border, as soon as Chief Engineer Singh clears the ship. We owe it to every one of the citizens on Xi'an to find out who did this before they have a chance to strike again.
"These are events unprecedented since humanity first ventured away from Earth and later, Haven. I expect, and know, that you will rise to the occasion. That is all."
The red light over the camera winked out and Jackson leaned back in his seat, letting out an explosive breath.
"I thought that was just the right tone, sir," Celesta said. She and Ensign Davis were the only other ones in the office, the former to observe and the latter to manage the extra imagery Jackson had included in his presentation.
"It will hopefully answer enough of their questions without raising new ones," he shrugged. "The rumors had enough traction that anything less than near-full disclosure would have only fanned the flames."
"That's likely true," Celesta conceded. "I think we'll have to warn the department heads to be extra vigilant anyway. Something as incredible as a planet-sterilizing attack may create some unexpected reactions within the crew. Especially since spacers in Black Fleet are pulled from all parts of the Confederacy. It would have been entirely possible to have Xi'an citizens serving onboard."
"There aren't any, are there?" Jackson asked, wanting to kick himself for not having thought of that himself.
"No, sir," Ensign Davis spoke up. "I did a search on the crew personnel files when we first entered the system and detected something might have happened to the planet. I informed Commander Wright we had no crew from Xi'an aboard."
"Thank you, Ensign," Jackson said with a nod. "That was some quick thinking."
"Thank you, Captain," Davis said with a slight smile. "If there’s nothing else?"
"No, Ensign, you're dismissed," Jackson said.
"Commander," Davis nodded to Celesta as she walked out the hatch. After it closed, Celesta looked to Jackson speculatively.
"She's really quite good," she said. "Why didn't you promote from within and give her a shot at Executive Officer? She has the experience and routinely has overwatch anyway."
"I did push for her," Jackson said with a humorless smile. "I was overridden."
Celesta suddenly looked wildly uncomfortable and shifted in her chair. "I wasn't aware—"
"Of course you weren't," Jackson said, waving her off. "It would have been impossible anyway. She'd have to be step promoted to at least lieutenant commander and it would bounce her right over Peters. As for your recommendation, it was a little bit of inside politics that you got caught up in, but it wasn't your fault. I didn't mention it to you because I didn't want you to begin your first stretch as XO feeling like you were resented and with a target on your back. You've done very well and you're already a far more effective XO than Stevenson was ... you've earned your position."
"Thank you, sir," she said, obviously wanting nothing more than to change the subject.
"Have you looked over the reports from Singh yet?"
"Yes, sir," she answered. "It still looks like another four days of repairs at least."
"That's what I figured when I read them," Jackson nodded. "No matter. We'll break orbit within the hour and just use a slower flight profile out to our jump point."
"The jump point is relatively far out in the system," Celesta said. "We should have plenty of time for Engineering to wrap up everything on the schedule."
"I'm sure you're right," Jackson said, not sure whom he was trying to convince more.
It was another twelve hours after the memorial service for Specialist Lott when the Blue Jacket's main engines fired and began to lug her up the gravity well, breaking orbit from Xi’an. Jackson sat pensively on the bridge as he ran the calculations in his head again, hoping to have his armament at least fifty percent functional by the time he would need to put on a final burst of speed to hit their transition point at the correct minimum velocity.
The crew seemed tense and unsure and, unfortunately, Jackson had no way to reassure them since he shared their misgivings. All the years on the bridge of starships and he’d never had to try and calm down a spooked crew or project a front of calm he didn’t feel. Annoyingly, Commander Wright seemed to be able to do just that. She sat in her seat, almost serene as the rumble of the mains drowned out the ambient sounds of the bridge equipment.
****
The four-day flight to the edge of the system passed unremarkably. The crew seemed to settle down from the sudden loss of one of their own, and Singh’s department, tasked with a real challenge for the first time in a decade, far exceeded the chief engineer’s most optimistic schedule projections and, frankly, shocked the captain with their efficiency. They’d implemented creative solutions and had all of the Blue Jacket's forward-facing weaponry fully active. Point defense was still an issue and there was practically zero coverage on the aft end of the destroyer, but Jackson couldn’t complain with the results considering where they’d started.
“I feel like the sense of purpose has done the crew a lot of good,” Celesta remarked one evening as she sat in the wardroom grabbing a light lunch.
“It’s only been a few days,” Jackson said. “I’ll admit the technical staff has wildly exceeded my expectations, but we’ll see what happens when we hit the Oplotom system. I don’t think a Terran starship has fired a shot in anger in over two hundred years.”
“You’re still convinced it’s the Alliance?” Lieutenant Peters said as he scrolled through the drink menu on the automated dispenser.
“It’s currently the most logical answer,” Jackson said, washing out his coffee mug and frowning at the film that had formed on the interior between infrequent scrubbings. “But nothing would make me happier than to be wrong about that. Breaking a centuries-long peace is not how I envisioned ending my career.”
Celesta looked up sharply at that comment and he kicked himself for his careless tongue. He’d had no intention of letting her in on Admiral Winters’ little love letter until the cruise was on its final leg back to Haven.
“Captain Wolfe, please report to the bridge,” the monotone summons from the ship’s computer droned over the intercom.
“On my way,” he said, killing any further automated messages. “Lieutenant Peters, I want you in CIC during both transitions, but especially when we pop out in that Alliance system.”
“You got it, Captain,” Peters said casually, drawing an irritated look from Celesta.
“What is it, Ensign?” Jackson asked as he walked back onto the bridge.
“We’re less than two hours from the jump point,” Davis reported. “We’ve accelerated to transition velocity and we’re ready to shut the mains down and deploy the warp drive.”
“Very well,” Jackson said. “I also assume you’ve called me up here because you’re ready to launch your com drone.”
“Yes, sir,” she confirmed. “Drone is loaded with the package and is locked out from further incoming data. Your clearance code is required for the final interlock.”
“Stand by,” Jackson said as he pulled up the correct menu on his own display, verifying that everything Davis had told him was true.
It was all there. The data packet to CENTCOM as well as a hidden burst transmission that would ping a certain CENTCOM Intelligence Section comlink address, a message that would propagate out along the com network until it was received and confirmed. He placed his thumb against the biometric reader while simultaneously entering his passcode with his left hand. The credentials were accepted and the screen disappeared.
“Thank you, sir,” Davis said as her panel chirped. “Drone
launch will commence in fifteen minutes, destination Haven.”
“What’s the ETA on that?”
“Two days, sir,” she said.
He tried to crunch the numbers in his head, but he still marveled at the superluminal speeds the smaller drones were capable of, many times higher than even the fastest starships. He sat and began running back over the engineering reports even though he had already looked them over thoroughly hours before. With only two hours until their jump point he didn’t feel like moving off the bridge.
“XO to the bridge,” he said into the intercom. They’d be deploying the warp drive and transitioning the ship soon. May as well give Celesta the experience, though it was like a hot knife in his guts to follow Winters’ orders, even if it was what he would have done anyway. “I hope that woman dies a horrible, slow death,” he muttered.
“Sir?” Davis said uncomfortably.
“Oh, it’s nothing, Ensign,” he said quickly. “Just thinking aloud.”
“I see,” she said, seemingly even more disturbed by the explanation as by the comment itself.
Celesta marched onto the bridge and quickly took charge of the situation after Jackson gestured to his seat. Even though it helped that his first watch bridge crew was on duty, he was still duly impressed as she ran down her self-made checklist and was able to smoothly reconfigure the Blue Jacket for warp flight. Celesta was so prepared for her task that he didn’t have to utter a syllable, not even a grunt, as she ran the crew through their paces and, without incident, transitioned the destroyer out of the Xi’an system in a blinding flash of light.
Chapter 11
“Report!” Jackson barked, waiting as the main display came back up.
“All departments have reported in,” Ensign Davis said. “Successful transition. Nav is verifying position now.”
“Position is verified,” the spacer sitting at Nav reported. “We’re sitting in the outskirts of the Oplotom system just outside the orbit of the seventh planet.”
“Secure the warp drive and get the mains started,” Jackson said. “Coms, what do you hear?”
“Nothing, sir,” Lieutenant Keller said tensely. “I don’t have any intersystem chatter or the clock signal from the con drone platform.”
“This can’t be happening again,” the helmsman said loudly enough to be heard by everyone.
“Focus on your jobs, everyone,” Jackson said. “Coms, same drill … have your shop verify that the gear is working correctly, but do not transmit any signal from this ship. Internal loopbacks and visual checks only.”
“Aye, sir,” Lieutenant Keller said, getting his department started verifying the equipment even though everyone was certain there was nothing wrong with the ship.
“Warp emitters are stowed. Mains are coming up now,” Ensign Davis said. “Main thrust available in ten minutes.”
“Begin visual scans of the system with the high-power optics,” Jackson said. “I know the light is old, but maybe there’s something there to give us a bit of a heads up.”
It was a tense couple of hours as the ship sat on the outskirts, watching and listening. The mains were vibrating the ship softly, pushing the ship at minimal thrust, just enough to clear them out of the area of the jump point. Even though the flash from their transition would be clearly visible to anyone looking, Jackson didn’t want the Blue Jacket roaring into the system, engines lit up and transmitting on every band, without at least getting some passive recon of the surrounding space.
“This seems to shoot some holes in your theory about the Alliance being responsible for Xi’an,” Celesta whispered, her lips barely moving.
“Yeah,” Jackson agreed. “You know when I said I hoped to be proved wrong about that? Now I’m not so sure. Could this possibly be Tsuyo Corporation?”
She only shrugged, not speculating on the wild theories put out by a CIS operative.
“Captain, initial scans of Oplotom with long-range optics didn't look good,” Davis called out. “We’re approaching their dark side and there are no visible lights.”
“This is a planet of over one billion people,” Jackson said. “There’s no way every city lost power at the same time on one-half of the planet.”
“What do you want to do?” Celesta asked.
“Coms, ping the drone platform and then ping the orbital traffic controller,” Jackson said. “One challenge each. Let me know when the response is overdue.”
“One ping each, aye,” Lieutenant Keller said. They all waited another tense few hours until it became obvious they weren’t going to receive a response to their challenge.
“No response, Captain.”
“Helm, set course for Oplotom,” Jackson said. “All ahead three-quarters.”
“Ahead three-quarters, aye,” the helmsman answered, pushing his throttles up and eliciting a harsh rumble from the engines. The Blue Jacket surged ahead and everyone on the bridge looked at each other with varying degrees of dread, knowing there was likely another dead planet ahead of them.
“We’ve crossed the fifth planet’s orbit,” Davis said some hours later. “Oplotom is coming up.”
“Anything on the optical scans?” Jackson asked.
“Nothing yet, sir,” she said. “We’re chasing the planet around its orbit, so we’ll be able to see the terminator soon and then the daylight side.”
“Keep looking,” Jackson said. “We stay silent until I’m convinced we’re alone out here.”
“Might it not be prudent to bring the weapons online?” Celesta asked quietly.
Jackson just shook his head. “The projectors on the forward beams will leak when sitting at full power,” he said. “It’s not much, but there is a detectable source there if someone is looking.”
“I’m surprised that’s an issue,” she said.
“It’s an issue on this ship,” Jackson said sourly. “The projectors are decades old. It’s a matter of decay, not design.”
“Budget?”
“Budget.”
“We have … something … coming up over the horizon,” Ensign Davis said. “It’s big.”
“General quarters!” Jackson said sharply. “Set condition 1SS.”
“General quarters, general quarters, set condition 1SS,” Ensign Davis’ voice could be heard throughout the ship. Crewmen who were already loitering near their work areas on alert sprinted for their battle stations and began to configure the destroyer for ship-to-ship battle.
“Tactical, go active,” Jackson was saying. “Get me resolution on that target. Bring all available weapons online and be prepared to fire.”
“Target and scanning radars going active,” the tactical officer said. “Weapons are going live … status is on the board.”
Jackson looked up on the main display and saw their list of available weapons come up and begin to populate with percentage and readiness statuses. He was more interested in the radar scans that were coming up, displaying in a window that popped up on the display in front of the looming shape of Oplotom.
It was enormous. It was also irregularly shaped, so much so that Jackson thought it might have been an asteroid or other natural formation that had been caught in the planet’s gravity.
“Sir, target is maneuvering,” Tactical reported. “It’s coming about to face us.”
Never mind.
“Bracket that target, main beams only,” Jackson ordered. “Coms, begin transmitting all Confederacy challenges simultaneously along with the first contact package.”
“You can't think—” Celesta’s voice trailed off as she stared at the monstrosity on the display turning slowly to face them.
“I don’t know what to think,” Jackson snapped. “All I know is humans don’t build ships like that. Range?”
“Six hundred thousand kilometers and closing,” the tactical officer reported. “Target is not moving to break orbit. It’s now station-keeping and facing our approach.”
“Helm, braking thrust,” Jackson said, staring at the display.
“Cut our velocity by half.”
“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said, reconfiguring the engines to reverse thrust. They were all pitched forward momentarily as the ship began dramatically decelerating; the object in orbit simply kept rotating to keep them both aligned.
“Range?”
“Still over five hundred thousand kilometers,” Tactical reported. “Given our deceleration curve we won’t be within heavy beam range for another seven hours.”
“That gives us some time to think, at least,” Celesta said.
“It also gives them time to scan us with impunity,” Jackson said. “They’ve not answered any challenges and they’re in orbit over a Confederate planet that also isn’t answering any challenges. Not even an automated reply. Tactical, update the target's status for the computer. It is now considered a hostile.”
“Aye, sir,” the tactical officer reported. “Updating target status now. Weapons are now locking on and calculating range.”
“Load four Avenger missiles into the forward tubes,” Jackson ordered. “Target the hostile and put the range countdown on the main display.”
“Are you really going to fire without any provocation, sir?” Celesta asked.
Jackson looked over and saw the fear in her eyes and could hear the uncertainty in her voice.
“I have two dead planets, Commander,” he said to her quietly. “Over a billion provocations between the two. This is what being a captain is all about: the hard choices. I can either sit back and see if they’ll fire on us, which would likely destroy us given what we’ve seen so far, or I can hit first. My first responsibility is to the crew. If I’m wrong I will deal with the consequences.”
She swallowed hard, but nodded and settled back into her seat.
“Captain, the target is beginning to drift toward us. Direct course,” Tactical reported.
“Define ‘drift,’ Mister,” Jackson snapped. “You mean it’s changing orbits?”
“No, Captain,” the tactical officer said, looking over his shoulder at Jackson as he did. “It’s simply changed direction and slowly drifting onto an intercept course. No means of propulsion detected.”
Black Fleet Trilogy 1: Warship Page 11
