by Tori Harris
“Begging your pardon, Admiral, but can we not assume that those twenty-four hyperspace transitions were the Resistance ships leaving their original rally point?”
Patterson looked up at the youngish commander, wearing the kind of smile he might have given one of his sons when he knew they were right on the cusp of grasping some new skill he had worked hard to teach them. “We might indeed, Commander. We might even be tempted to assume that they have abandoned their original rally point and won’t be back. Consider, however, that we have a number of other pieces of information that don’t quite add up. For one, their course vectors do not indicate they were on their way to Earth, right?”
“No, sir. They’re not even heading in our general direction,” he said, feeling as if he had become privy to a diabolical practical joke that was just about to be put into motion — at someone else’s expense.
“Now keep in mind that I may be the one who’s being had here, but in my mind, that was a missed opportunity on the part of their commander.”
“Because …” the commander paused as the implications ran rapidly through his mind, “if they thought there was any chance we might detect their departure, heading in the general direction of Earth would put us on the defensive, even if their intent was only to move their task force a short distance.”
“Right. It’s all about maintaining the initiative, especially when you can do something simple that just might succeed in throwing your enemy off balance. The fact is that they probably had no reason to suspect we would detect their departure. If you put yourself in their commander’s place, though, wouldn’t you be looking to move your task force?”
“I’d get the hell out of there in a hurry, sir. It looks like our Hunter recon flight must have transitioned right on top of them. So he knows their original rally point is compromised.”
“He does indeed. In fact, he has a number of new pieces of information with which he must now contend. He knows that his task force has most likely lost any possibility of a surprise attack, he knows that our capabilities are likely more formidable than he was led to believe, and he knows that it is entirely possible that we, or perhaps old GORT out there, might decide to mount an attack in short order.” Patterson paused and stared at the display for a moment, wondering if it was he who was missing something obvious. “Here’s something else to consider,” he continued. “Why the delay? Why had they not already attacked Earth before our Hunters arrived?”
“I’d have to say for the same reason he didn’t head in our direction just now. He’s not ready.”
“That would be my guess as well. And if he’s expecting more ships, he has no capability to contact them if they are en route, just like us. In fact, their long range comm requires their ships to remain in normal space and stationary for an extended period of time, right?”
“Yes, sir, although we’re not entirely sure how long. It’s apparently something Admiral Naftur has been careful not to reveal.”
“I can’t say I blame him. A smart commander will take a comm advantage over one in raw firepower any day of the week … within reason, of course,” Patterson said. “In any event, it’s probably a safe bet that there will be more ships arriving at the original rally point. And that makes it a pretty important piece of real estate for us to control if we can.”
“Got it, sir. Thank you for taking the time to explain all of that to me,” the commander said.
“Hah! You can thank me after we see if I was right,” Patterson laughed. “If we manage to live long enough to find out, that is.”
The tactical officer raised his eyebrows, surprised by the admiral’s rather unusual candor … or was that dark humor? “One other thing I noticed, Admiral,” he continued, “aren’t we missing the location for deployment of the fifth comm beacon?”
“I just don’t think we can see it at this scale. We probably need to zoom out to include about a five-light-hour radius,” Patterson replied, pinching the space above the table to make the necessary adjustment. On the far edge of the display, an additional pulsating green sphere came into view.
“Surely that’s an error, sir. That one won’t provide us any additional coverage sitting way out there.”
“Nope, that looks about right to me as well. Go ahead and transmit the new deployment orders to Gamble 22. Tell him to stay put and await further orders once he’s done. Then notify Captains Zhukov and Donovan aboard the Jutland of our changes.”
“Aye, sir,” he replied, shooting Patterson an expectant look.
“Don’t worry, Commander, that last location will make sense to you soon enough,” the admiral said, winking as he turned to head for the Navajo’s bridge.
TFS Theseus, TFC Yucca Mountain Shipyard Facility
“Captain on the bridge!” the Marine sentry barked as Prescott made his first “official” appearance via the aft entrance near his ready room. Looking around, he noticed that Commander Reynolds had asked the standby bridge crew to step in for the occasion … and the sight of all of his officers and the young Marine standing at attention produced an unexpected stream of emotionally laden thoughts. It occurred to him that he did not remember his first formal entry onto Ingenuity’s bridge ever being announced in this manner. He assumed that was probably because an opportunity had never presented itself amid the chaos of her shakedown cruise, commissioning, and immediate transition to operational status. This time around, Fleet had opted to skip the shakedown cruise altogether, and he couldn’t help but wonder whether reliance on AI-based testing and evaluation would prove sufficient to avoid unpleasant or, worse yet, tragic surprises. As his brief stream of consciousness concluded, Prescott allowed himself to pause briefly and enjoy the moment. After all, his crew had performed admirably thus far, and they had every reason to take pride in their accomplishments — both aboard Ingenuity and in preparing Theseus for departure. Taking a deep breath, Prescott moved on with the business at hand.
“Stand easy for a moment, everyone. I very much appreciate the courtesy. As you all know, that kind of thing rarely makes much practical sense on the bridge of a starship, so thank you for taking advantage of the opportunity. I know it goes without saying, but, once we are underway, it will not be necessary to call the room unless Commander Reynolds or I specifically tell you otherwise. For those of you I have already served with, I’m proud of your performance to date and happy to have you aboard once again. For those of you who are new,” he laughed, shading his eyes with one hand as he looked around the room, “and I think that’s limited to Lieutenant Lee at the moment … welcome aboard. Commander Reynolds went out of her way to irritate all of the other destroyer captains by cherry-picking some of their very best crewmembers. Unfortunately for you, that means she’ll have the bar set pretty high to make sure you’re worthy of all the favors she owes for stealing you away.
“Now, while I wish we had more time to get acquainted, both with each other and with our new ship, we were at least fortunate enough to get a few extra days of training and prep time before being sent out on our first mission. Hopefully, you’re all reasonably well-rested and ready to go, because our so-called ‘grace period’ is just about to expire, and I suspect we will be getting underway shortly thereafter. On that note, I’m going to let Commander Reynolds go over what we know so far regarding our first assignment. Commander.”
“Thank you, Captain. First watch crew, you can all take your seats. Standby crew, please remain with us for just a moment, if you would. This won’t take long,” she said as she walked around to the space between the Helm console and the bridge view screen. “I see that you have all reviewed the pre-mission briefing materials,” she began, taking a quick glance at her tablet, “so I’ll just hit the highlights and then give you the opportunity to ask questions. As you know, Admiral Patterson believes we have located the site of the original Pelaran Resistance rally point, which is now being referred to as Location Dagger.” Reynolds turned to confirm that the AI was displaying the appropriate imagery, know
ing, even as she did, that it was wholly unnecessary to do so. “One of TFS Jutland’s fighters has managed to deploy comm beacons in these locations, so the entire area now has excellent comm coverage. As of now, we expect that our role will be to transport Sajeth Collective Admiral Rugali Naftur to the area and attempt to make contact with Resistance forces. Lieutenant Commander Schmidt, did you have a question?”
“Yes, ma’am. Sorry for the interruption. Does Admiral Naftur expect the Resistance forces to be receptive to opening this sort of dialog?”
“I think the most honest answer to that question is that he thinks doing so offers our best chance of avoiding a military confrontation, so it’s at least worth a try. The Resistance crews are expected to be made up almost entirely of Wek personnel, and I think it’s safe to say that Admiral Naftur is widely known and respected among their military forces. He believes there are likely to be many among them who would also prefer to avoid bloodshed, if at all possible — especially if we can convince them that Humanity does not pose a threat to the Sajeth Collective. The question, of course, is whether attempting to communicate in this fashion will provoke at least some of their forces into attacking us immediately.”
“And do we have some way of letting them know that we are proposing a parley? Some sort of signal, maybe?”
“Yes we do, and their forces do have a historical context for such meetings, just as we do. Admiral Naftur has indicated that it would be considered a grave breach of their rules of war to execute an attack during a parley. Then again, one could argue that the entire Resistance movement is operating outside the bounds of their legal command authority structure,” she said. “That brings us to our contingency plan. A full squadrons of F-373s will be standing by for our signal here,” she said, turning to point to the comm beacon now indicated by a pulsating red oval by the ship’s AI. “The comm beacon where our fighters will be waiting has been designated Location Willow and is approximately five light hours from Location Dagger. That should be well outside the detection range of the Resistance ships, but the fighters will be remaining in hyperspace, just in case. If our, uh, negotiations are unsuccessful, they will immediately join us and assist in whatever actions are deemed appropriate at that time. Captain Zhukov and Commander Waffer from the Jutland will lead the two flights of Reapers, but Captain Prescott will be in overall command of the mission.”
“Ma’am?” Ensign Fisher said, raising his hand to get her attention. “If the fighters remain in hyperspace, how will we call them if we need their help? I thought we couldn’t communicate with ships in hyperspace.”
“That’s a better question for Commander Logan, or Lieutenant Dubashi, but the details will have wait for another time. My decidedly nontechnical understanding is that the beacons are indeed point-to-point, real-time links … almost like telegraph stations alongside an old-fashioned railroad track. So, from a practical standpoint, it’s true that you can’t communicate with a ship traveling in hyperspace — just like the telegraph operator couldn’t communicate with the train once it left the station. A ship can, however, still communicate directly with the comm beacon, just as we do in normal space. That’s where the physics get way over my head. Bottom line, as long as you’re in the immediate vicinity of the comm beacon, it works fine.”
“Commander Reynolds,” Lieutenant Dubashi interrupted, “we have received an authenticated launch order from the Flag. Admiral Patterson says he needs two minutes alone with Captain Prescott and yourself, but he wants us underway immediately thereafter.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Reynolds replied, then paused as if considering how best to wrap things up quickly. “Believe it or not,” she began again, “I have already covered most of what I had planned to show you anyway. Clearly, we continue to find ourselves at the center of a historic and rapidly evolving situation. So far, our success has depended less on detailed planning than it has on our ability to think on our feet and give each other our absolute best … and I have no reason to believe that will change on this mission. All of you are ready. Theseus is ready. Let’s get this done.” Even with only eleven crewmembers and a Marine sentry on the bridge, Reynolds received enthusiastic applause and expressions of approval as she joined Captain Prescott on the way to his ready room. “Lieutenant Commander Schmidt, you have the bridge,” she ordered. “Notify Engineering to expect an immediate departure and work on getting us cleared for launch with Yucca Control.”
“Aye, ma’am,” he replied, moving to take his place at one of the Command consoles while being immediately replaced at Tactical 1 by a lieutenant from the standby crew.
“Good brief,” Prescott said as he and Commander Reynolds reached the privacy of the ready room.
“I’ve always said there should be a three-minute limit. Anything longer than that needs to be handled some other way. A lot of our youngsters struggle to keep their attention on one topic for even that long,” she said as Prescott entered the required commands to pull up the vidcon stream with TFS Navajo.
“Did you read that the spooks seem to think our encrypted comm is secure again?” he asked.
“I did. Long may it last … and I only mean to sound a little cynical when I say that,” she replied as Terran Fleet Command’s official service seal appeared on the view screen, followed a few seconds later by the obviously tired but smiling face of Admiral Kevin Patterson.
“Good morning to you both,” he said cheerfully. “I trust you’ve enjoyed your extended R&R at the Yucca Mountain resort and are ready to get back to work.”
“Good morning to you as well, Admiral. Sir, I’m just glad you’re not sitting here with us, since having my XO cooling her heels in the brig for slugging you wouldn’t be particularly helpful at the moment,” Prescott laughed.
“I’ve been slugged for a lot less, I can assure you,” Patterson replied mischievously. “In all seriousness, while I do wish we had located the Resistance task force rally point several days ago, it’s good that you had a little extra time to prepare. I know even six days was nowhere near sufficient, but I’m sure you’re much better off now than you would have been a few days ago. I also congratulate you both for achieving ‘mission effective’ status so quickly after transitioning out of Ingenuity. Don’t get me wrong. I expected nothing less from you two, but it’s excellent work nonetheless.”
“Thank you, Admiral,” both officers replied in unison, realizing that the CNO actually did understand and appreciate the Herculean effort required to prepare Theseus for her first mission.
“I’ll keep this short. I know you are fully briefed on the mission to Location Dagger. What you may not have had time to notice over the past week, however, is just how unstable things have become, politically, in the wake of the Guardian’s entrance onto the world stage. And, by the way, we will not be calling that damn thing Griffin, Tom, Dick, or Harry for that matter. It’s a foolish affectation in my opinion, and we’ll have no part of it unless, God forbid, the Leadership Council orders us to do so. If that happens, I’d personally be more comfortable addressing it as we would any other ambassador … which would at least prevent us from sounding like a flock of mindless sheep.”
Both Prescott and Reynolds smiled and nodded approvingly as the admiral continued.
“Admiral White’s folks over at Fleet Intelligence have put together some good summary documentation regarding the political situation that you should probably read through when you have a moment. I guess if I had to provide a one-word description of world affairs at the moment, I’d use ‘chaotic.’ Classified information has been leaking like a sieve for a full week now. All of that can probably be traced back to the Guardian in one form or another, but I suppose that’s neither here nor there at this point. Some nations are up in arms that we would ever even consider membership in the Pelaran Alliance. Others are incensed that we allowed representatives from the Sajeth Collective to come aboard one of our vessels, let alone be granted diplomatic status by TFC. Pretty much everyone is angry for being
kept in the dark about the true state of our fleet … although I suppose most of them are able to see some benefit in not being completely defenseless in the face of a possible Sajeth Collective attack on Earth. I’m just scratching the surface here, but you get the gist. Things are a real mess at the moment, but I’m sure they will settle down after the immediate threat has passed.”
“Will Admiral Naftur be shuttled over to us before we launch?” Prescott asked.
“No, and that gets to the heart of why I just summarized the current political situation for you. The Leadership Council has largely been in continuous session since the first direct contact from the Guardian a month ago. Council sessions have always been a little on the contentious side, but over the past week, things have gotten especially tense among the representatives. While it’s generally not appropriate for Fleet personnel to comment on how the Council conducts its business, the Admiralty has serious concerns regarding some of what we have been seeing. For the sake of our discussion, I’ll simply say that Chairwoman Crull has been behaving in a manner we believe is inconsistent with the TFC charter. Under normal circumstances, I think we would probably expect to see someone calling for a vote of no confidence in her leadership, followed shortly thereafter by her being removed as Chair and perhaps as the Central and South American Union’s representative. Unfortunately, that’s not what’s happening. Somehow, she has managed to put together a fairly solid voting block composed of seven of the fifteen members … not a majority, for the moment, but enough where she manages to get her way on pretty much every issue that comes up. That’s all well and good, but right after the first Guardian speech, she began what appears to be a well-planned campaign to ‘demilitarize’ TFC Headquarters.”
“I wasn’t aware that HQTFC was a military installation before,” Reynolds commented.
“It was not by any means … and that was intentional. Part of the reason why that was the case was to support the original cover story that TFC was not a true military organization. Beyond that, even though defending the Earth has obviously always been at the top of our priority list — developing Pelaran technology and the peaceful exploration of space are primary missions as well. As you both know, we are also dedicated to the idea of civilian control … civilians who are duly elected representatives of our member nations.”
