She did a search for the number 2542 and came up with multiple entries, over forty of them, in fact, and that was just in the portion of the file that was still decoding. In an effort to determine what the nature of the information extracted from the old drive was, she accessed one of the files in the first portion of the download. Within a minute, recognizable text began to appear on the virtual display she that was being generated in her mind's eye by the combination of wrist computer and cranial net. The program converted data at a rate that was only a little more rapid than the rate she could read at so she began reading while the software was still unencrypting the files.
The date of the entry she had selected was, coincidently, January 2, 2542, exactly fifty-seven years ago to the day. As she skimmed through the text, she couldn't help but be a little disappointed. It looked like she was viewing electronic versions of routine reports regarding normal shipboard affairs like who was standing watch and when they logged out and who had logged in to replace them. Mildly interesting stuff, but hardly planet shaking. She caught up to the translation program when the output stopped for a few seconds as the conversion software churned away on something with a much denser form of data in it. Whatever it was, it took the program almost a minute to decode it. Finally the software indicated that it had translated a video feed of some kind and asked her if she wished to view it. Carlisle eagerly accessed the video translation and requested that it be played.
In the video feed was a rugged looking, athletic man of perhaps forty years of age, whose bushy blond hair was styled in the modified Mohawk style favored by the Veritian Brotherhood of Christ Resurgent. Carlisle knew from her previous researches that the derelict had been operated by the Veritian Brotherhood so this particular revelation didn't surprise her. The man swiveled his chair, turned his blue eyes to the video pickup and began speaking.
What did come as a surprise to her was that he looked disturbingly familiar...
"Captain's Journal, January, 2, 2542. Captain Josiah Dobbins reporting. The Instrument of God has managed to stay out of any fighting so far but it looks as though this situation may be about to change. We are on our way to join up with the people that represent the true and rightful government of Jasmine. It looks to me as though the opposing forces in this war are heading for some kind of huge and decisive showdown. As I have stated before, the Monarchists wish to maintain the purity of their race and their religion. Strangely enough, these are the same goals that we, the Veritian Brotherhood of Christ Resurgent, have vowed to achieve. After much discussion, we have decided to join forces with the Orthodox Jasminites and their allies. They have agreed that after we win this war we will be granted our own region of space and they will honor our boundaries. The establishment of a more liberal and therefore more secular Islamic Republic must be stopped at all costs!"
At this point, Carlisle froze the video and took a long look at the Captain. Dobbins? Veritian Brotherhood? This man almost had to be the grandfather or some other ancestor of Lester Dobbins, aka Ezra Hellfire Brimstone, the radical who had attacked this very Scrapyard in an attempt to kidnap Ambassador Saladin just a couple of months ago. In the process, the current-day Brotherhood terrorists had killed everyone onboard the main living facilities of the Reclamation Center and then moved on to threaten and ultimately take over the New Ceylon Orbital Station. The current-day Dobbins was reported to have formed an uneasy alliance with the Sheik of Barsoom, a known Islamic terrorist. Carlisle shook her head. It appeared as though his family had a history of such risky and uneasy relationships. Yes, decided Carlisle as she studied the frozen image, the man in the video looked way too much like Lester Dobbins not to be related to him in some way.
***
UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard Federation Auxiliary ship Greyhound, January 2, 2599.
"So you see, Lieutenant," Kresge was explaining the supply situation to Harris, now back on the bridge of the Greyhound, "we desperately need to make a foray of some kind for supplies, the sooner the better. We're critical on food mostly, but some medical and other supplies wouldn't be unwelcome either."
"Can we use one of our destroyers to escort one or two of our freighters and make a quick trip to one of the nearby planets?" asked Harris.
"That was sort of my plan," replied Kresge, "Helen says that Heard's World might be a good place to start."
"I agree, it almost has to be Heard's World."
"But New Ceylon is right next door...," ventured Kresge.
"That's true Commander," replied Harris, "The trouble is that they only have a couple of ground-to-orbit spacecraft and with all of the personnel transfers they made between the planet and the orbital station in the last couple of weeks, those two ships are both down for maintenance. It will be a couple of weeks, probably longer, before they'll be able to boost anything off planet again. Looks like our best bet is Heard's World."
"Alright, we'll go for Heard's World. We need to check up on what's been happening in that system anyway. Hard telling what's been going..." Kresge was interrupted in mid-sentence.
"Commander? A ship has just come through the hyperlink point," announced Chief Jenkins who was serving as a communications tech at the console over on the other side of the Greyhound's bridge.
"Can you determine who it is?" said Kresge, as he cleared his display of the food inventory files and switched over to a display that gave a view of a tactical plot for the system.
"Not as yet, but our preliminary information indicates that it's an Islamic Alliance Destroyer of some kind."
"We'd better inform the Asimov, though I'll bet they already know more than we do, with their latest generation sensor equipment. Put me through to them."
"Right away, Commander!"
***
UTFN Reclamation Center, on board Meridian Imperial Diplomatic Ship Istanbul, January 2, 2599.
Back in her quarters, Carlisle scrolled ahead to a later entry in the long-ago Captain's personal log and ran it through the un-encoding software. She waited as the computer did its work. A new entry began to scroll down the display, this one dated June 15. Again, the software output slowed as it encountered what must be another video file. Carlisle waited while the software churned through the translation. A minute later the Captain of the Instrument of God looked out at her again and spoke from fifty-some years earlier. He looked different. This time he was wearing a different colored coverall and he looked like he could use some sleep.
"Captain's Journal, June 15, 2542, Captain Josiah Dobbins reporting. We will be executing a macrojump to the New Ceylon system sometime within the next few hours. My earlier fears were well-founded; it appears as though we are heading into a major battle. Our Monarchist allies believe that they have a decisive advantage in men and in ships for this fight. A diversion in the Patagonian system seems to have worked and the Federation Admirals appear to have committed a serious blunder: they have split their forces. We should have numerical superiority in the New Ceylon system along with the element of surprise. This will not be an easy victory but we and our allies appear to have the upper hand this time around. God willing, our forces will be victorious!"
Carlisle had found entries that corresponded with the beginning stages of the final battle of the Succession War! This entry from Josiah Dobbins contained information that she had never heard of from any source before. According to this account, Admiral Olaf "Stig" Lambert, overall leader of the Federation forces, had been lured into splitting his command in response to an Opposition feint in the Patagonia system. The official Federation spin on this aspect of the battle had always been that Lambert had put a force in Patagonia as a "reserve." Carlisle shook her head. Count on those pompous old fools to cover their behinds!
She was eagerly preparing to look at the next series of entries when she was interrupted by a communication that came in through her wrist computer.
"Ensign Carlisle, this is Kresge, you need to get up to the bridge of the Istanbul right away."
"On my wa
y, Commander," she said as she reluctantly shut down the displays and removed the cranial net.
I wonder what the hell is going on now, she thought, as she left her quarters and made her way to the bridge of the diplomatic ship as quickly as she could.
Chapter 10.
"...Meridian Imperial Navy El-Nashar Class destroyer.
Length: 230 meters.
Mass: 6,800 metric tons.
Crew: 15 officers and 50 crew fully manned, 5 officers and 25 crew minimum.
Propulsion systems:
Reaction Drive: Foucault-Pirone Cesium Ion Drive, Nominal thrust capability 2.1g, Maximum 7g, Emergency 10.1g.
Hyperdrive: Fifth Generation Pullman-Whitney Overdrive.
Armament:
Main: Four 2000 gigajoule Parkinson capacitor discharge pulse beam projectors (5th generation) in fore and aft twin-mount, centerline turrets. Secondary: twelve 5.5 gigajoule Parkinson-Mitsubishi rapid-fire pulse beam projectors in 6 twin mount turrets. External hardpoints to accommodate up to twelve Meridian Hamiyyet or Jasmine Adl guided missiles (these mounts are also often used for transport of external cargo modules containing additional provisions for extended voyages).
This ship type was developed by the Meridian Imperial Navy as a replacement for the simple, durable but somewhat underpowered Dagger class in 2578. The El-Nashar has proven to be a solid design and continues to be the mainline destroyer for most of the navies of the Islamic Alliance. "
Hartwell Wrist Comp reference note highlighted for further review by Tamara Carlisle. Excerpt is from "Janes Fighting Ships" (2598 version).
UTFN Reclamation Center, onboard Federation Auxiliary ship Greyhound, January 2, 2599.
"Greyhound to Asimov, this is Commander Kresge. Do you have information on the ship that just came through the hyperlink point?"
"Affirmative, Greyhound, we have detected an El-Nashar Class destroyer, her transponder identifies her as the MIS Nasr. She is listed as a ship in the Meridian Imperial Navy."
"A Meridian ship? So we don't know if she's friend or foe?"
"Affirmative, Greyhound. Given the current situation, she could be either. Has the Istanbul been informed?"
"I' m sure they've been keeping a watch of their own. I also instructed Ensign Carlisle to go to Istanbul's bridge immediately. She should be there by now."
"This is Captain Nassar of the Istanbul, Commander. We can confirm that the ship in the hyperlink zone is the MIS Nasr. Ensign Carlisle is here and we are monitoring. The Ambassador is on his way to the bridge as we speak." Nassar paused as he received a communication. "A moment, Commander, the destroyer is communicating with us. We will patch through to you. Stage one communication coming through from the Nasr...now."
"This is Captain Araman Bishara of the Meridian Imperial Ship Nasr calling the United Terran Federation Reclamation Center. Have no fear, we come in peace."
Since the call was to the Reclamation Center and not to the Istanbul, it was Kresge who responded.
"This is Commander Oskar Kresge at the United Terran Federation Navy Reclamation Center. What can we do for you, Nasr?"
Captain Bishara began making his report.
"We bring information on recent developments elsewhere in the quadrant and we have thirty-seven Federation Naval personnel onboard. Some of them are wounded and will require medical care immediately. We come seeking Ambassador Saladin, to offer our services. We have it on good authority that he has taken refuge here."
"I guess by now that information is no longer confidential," replied Kresge. "The Ambassador is here and will be joining us shortly. Please continue."
"We were stationed near the hyperlink point in the Oneida system when the three Jasmine Navy destroyers in our squadron attacked and heavily damaged the FNS Larkspur, a Federation destroyer that had come the system to switch out the crew and reprovision the communications platform. In accordance with interplanetary law, I had no choice but to take the side of the Federation vessel when it was revealed that the other three ships had declared allegiance to the Sheik of Barsoom, a known terrorist. I wish to firmly emphasize that this ship and crew have remained loyal to the legitimate government of Meridian and, as near as we can determine, that currently means we report to Ambassador Saladin. With me now is Captain Jennifer Helmsford of the FNS Larkspur."
The captain of the Larkspur appeared on the viewscreen alongside Bishara.
"Captain Helmsford, here. We owe a great debt to the captain and crew of the Nasr. We were minutes away from being totally destroyed by those three ships when the Nasr intervened."
"What is the status of your ship, Captain Helmsford?" asked Kresge.
Helmsford looked as though she had been physically stunned by the question. Her next words came out with visible difficulty.
"The Larkspur was...a total loss, Commander. She was barely holding air when we were forced to abandon her. We were attacked without warning and suffered multiple, devastating, close range pulse beam strikes. The action left us with both batteries destroyed and nearly a third of the crew dead or wounded. Thanks to the Nasr, we were able to abandon ship just a few minutes before the reactor went critical. She...couldn't be saved, Sir. There wasn't a lot we could do. We were brutally attacked without warning."
"My condolences on the loss of your ship and for the members of your crew who were killed, Captain," said Kresge.
"Thank you, Sir."
There was short silence as all of the parties reacted solemnly to the news of the lost destroyer and her crew.
"This is Ambassador Saladin," announced the Ambassador, who had been listening in for the last several minutes. "My condolences to you as well, Captain Helmsford. The loss of a ship is never easy, even if such a loss is inevitable."
"I thank you for your kind words, Excellency," replied Helmsford.
"And how are you, Captain Bishara?" the Ambassador continued.
"I'm fine, Excellency, but I'm afraid that I bring bad news. This Sheik of Barsoom's forces are gaining strength."
"Bad news indeed," replied the Ambassador. "Do you have any other information?"
"Some, Excellency, but not very much, I fear. The Sheik's forces are gathering at the Santana Nexus, preparing for some kind of significant activity. We have not yet been able to determine what this activity is. It seems impossible, but we have also heard that they have somehow blocked access to the Sol-Terra hyperlink point."
"We may have more information regarding the hyperlink situation," replied the Ambassador. "You say you don't have much further information on the situation at the Santana Nexus?"
"My apologies, Excellency, we do not. We do, however, have several prisoners from those defected ships, one of whom is a bridge officer."
"A moment, Captain," said the Ambassador.
The personnel on the three ships in the Scrapyard had a brief consultation.
"Do you think it's safe to allow them to come here?" asked Kresge.
"It is impossible to be certain," replied the Ambassador, "but Bishara's father was one of my most trusted officers while we were fighting the uprising on Meridian's moon. I have even met this young man but I confess that I do not know him well."
"I can vouch for Captain Helmsford," said Kingston, who had joined the bridge crew on the Asimov. "I've met with her on multiple occasions. She's a fine officer and Federation to the core."
"What do you want to do, Excellency?" asked Kresge
"I believe it to be worth the risk to invite them to join us," replied the Ambassador.
"It's your call, Excellency."
The Ambassador concluded the conversation with the Nasr.
"Please come in to the Reclamation Center, Captain Bishara, we need to talk to you and Captain Helmsford. We'd also like to spend a little time with those prisoners."
"As you wish, Excellency, we'll be initiating a microjump towards you in the next few minutes."
Chapter 11.
UTFN Reclamation Center, on board Meridian Imperial Diplomatic Ship Is
tanbul, January 2, 2599.
With over two hours to prepare, the Scrapyard leadership had plenty of time to get ready for the arrival of the overloaded destroyer. A delegation of Federation people made their way over to the Istanbul and were there waiting when the destroyer arrived in the Scrapyard. After directing the Nasr to park where they could keep an eye on her, one of the Istanbul's cutters picked up Bishara and Helmsford and brought them back over to the big diplomatic ship along with the worst of the wounded and the five prisoners. The injured were whisked off to the Istanbul's infirmary while the prisoners were transferred to the brig. Bishara and Helmsford were ushered into an interrogation room. Within a few minutes, the two destroyer captains were joined by the Ambassador and a contingent from the Federation forces, including Kresge, Harris, Carlisle, Harvick and Admiral Kingston. Several of the Ambassador's guards discreetly took up positions near the door and along the walls.
Helmsford and Bishara went into more detail regarding the events that had brought the two of them together in the Oneida system, including the fact that the three defected destroyers had been operating their power plants in overload mode in a very risky attempt to temporarily boost their rate of fire and their shield strength.
"They are indeed fanatics," said the Ambassador, "putting ships and crew at risk like that."
"With respect, Excellency, perhaps with three to one odds they hoped to end the battle very quickly. As you know, the Federation ships are considerably more powerful and better protected than those of the Islamic Alliance."
"I am aware of that, Captain Bishara, best if they hadn't attacked in the first place!"
The two destroyer captains told the Scrapyard contingent everything they could think of pertaining to the incident over the next hour and a half. When it was evident that no more information was likely to be gained, Kresge suggested the next course of action.
Junkyard Dogs series Omnibus Page 80
