"Any time in space, James?" she asked, trying to sound not too curious.
"Yes. I did a turn as Maintenance officer on Freedom and then Weapons on Aurora. I was the XO on Chaffee and then back here."
OK, it was now a really good idea.
"Excuse me, James, I need to ask CINC a question."
"Yes, of course."
She walked back into CINC's office, blowing past a startled Lieutenant Peters in the outer office.
"I want Commander George."
"Will you never stop?" he asked, exasperated.
She shook her head.
"He's on the list. If you want him, you can have him. It's a solid choice Commander Michael, but there are other good officers on the list as well."
"Something about him. He's it. When can I get him?"
"First of the month? You won't need him until then."
"Done. Can I tell him?"
"Sure."
She closed the door behind her and walked back to Jim George, working away at his console.
"James, how about you come with me on Antares as XO?"
His mouth dropped open a little, then closed. Then he didn't move for a second.
"You're serious?"
"Yup. CINC agreed. He said first of the month, but we'll work it out."
She reached out her hand, and George took it.
"Welcome aboard."
"You always hire XO's off the street like this?"
She shrugged. "First time. But if it works out well I won't promise not to do it again."
George smiled as if he had just found a new friend. "Commander Michael, that is, Terri, I think we're going to get along very well."
ISC Fleet HQ Main Conference Room
Ft. Eustis, VA
Monday, February 21, 2078, 0955 EST
Plans Chief Captain Fiona Collins paced impatiently at the front of the room, her long reddish-brown hair flaring out each time she reversed course. Her pale cheeks grew pink along with her frustration level. Ron Harris had not yet arrived with the Intel crew, and neither had the catering. Nothing like no coffee to kill a meeting, she thought. The invited Fleet personnel were slowly filling the room, including the famous Commander Terri Michael, an appellation Fiona knew Terri despised, now commanding Antares, and nearly-as-famous Len Davis, who would soon be taking over Sigma. Newly promoted Lieutenant Commander Rich Evans would come over with his new Intel assignment. Lieutenant Carol Hansen was also present, standing with her new XO, James George. Anna Nonna of Bondarenko was there as well, with her XO Dick Watson. Captain Barker of Dunkirk sat quietly in the second row, reading, sipping the proper tea he'd brought with him. Americans, he always said, couldn't make tea worth shit, so he brought his own.
Also sipping tea were Captain Nobuyuki Kawaguchi and First Officer Noboru Nakahara of Nippon, the largest cruiser yet built. Weapons officer Hotaru Oshiro, the lone female representative from Nippon, sat nearby with coffee. Not far from the Japanese officers were the Koreans from Tong-il (Unification). Captain Yong Sook Man and Executive Officer Hea Jung Jun were looking at a tablet, reviewing again together the material FleetIntel had provided ahead of the briefing. The commanding officers of about a dozen other destroyers and frigates were there, making a crowd in the theater-format room.
A minute or two before 1000 the Intel crew followed the catering cart into the room, which resulted in a scramble for coffee and the usual bagels and other accompaniments. As she looked around the room, Fiona thought One would think we could do this all with a virtual meeting, but security issues and plain old human nature made it far better to hold this gathering in the real world, not on fifty separate screens. As the chatter and congratulations and mini-reunions started to die down, the coffee, soda, water, bagels, and donuts distributed at least somewhat evenly, Fiona moved to the front of the room with Ron Harris.
"Good morning everyone. I know many of you, but for the rest, I am Captain Fiona Collins, Chief of Plans. This is Captain Ron Harris, Chief of Intel. Both sections have been working hard over the last month to learn what we could, try to figure out what we don't know, and then devise an approach that will allow us to find, assess, and kill this enemy."
Ron took over.
"We do have some interesting information for you. Kathy - let's have that first image."
The same image that the Liberty crew saw appeared on the screen. There was an audible gasp in the room. Gagarin's captain looked over at Kieran Barker and smiled; the work of locating the FDR had indeed been worthwhile.
"Here is our enemy, as seen by Liberty. Thanks to Gagarin, we have a wealth of information from the flight data recorder. This is one of the smaller of six ships that Liberty faced. You will have full briefs in your ship Intel shops but let me make a couple quick points."
The screen dissolved into a list of bullet points, and Ron indicated each as he went through them.
"First, the appearance. They are shiny, like stainless steel or something. This enemy is not concerned about being seen. I personally find that very interesting but I honestly can't tell you what it means. Second, the scale. The larger ones are nearly a half statute mile long. Shocking, really. Finally, they're brittle. Liberty destroyed two ships with six Lances."
Ron waited a few seconds, then continued.
"Beyond that, Bondarenko and the Dunkirk group looked extensively for useful artifacts around Inor, but aside from a few bits of small debris, they found nothing. We don't know if it all burned up on re-entry to Inor or if the enemy is that good at cleaning up after themselves. They had the area to themselves for several days. The debris we did find indicates an advanced space-faring culture, likely using asteroid metals for construction. The important take away from this is that this is not some hyper-advanced society. Their construction is not like ours, but it is consistent with our own abilities. The second takeaway is that this is an enemy we can kill, and that's important."
"Good 'cause I want to kill a lot of them. If you'd seen Inoria..." Len Davis said.
"Well, Commander Davis I am sure we'll get that chance." Anna Nonna added.
The murmurs of agreement and a sudden blizzard of side-conversations told Fiona this gathering could be quickly sliding out of control, so she stepped in to get it back on track.
"Hopefully we will all get our chance. We're here today to brief you on the search framework we've devised. Let me give you the high points, and then we can dig into whatever details we need to."
"We are going to swarm these stars. Each of you will receive a list of stars to investigate. Ships will receive different but overlapping schedules so they will be visiting systems at different times. There is no specified number of days to recon each system. You'll need to see what's required to get the data we need and then move on. Intel has outlined what the data collection protocol should be, and you will have that on board. But, you are in command, and you can implement the protocol as you see fit. We can't anticipate every scenario. You know what we need. The rest is up to you. Now, for the details..."
As Fiona Collins dove into spectral types, distances, limits, chances of habitations, known planets, all the very important ideas her very bright group had worked out, Carol found herself thinking about how she had come to be there. She was just another ensign on just another ship less than six weeks ago, and now here she was suddenly already a lieutenant, a famous one at that, and assigned as the Weapons officer on a brand-new ship. She caught herself wondering where David was at that moment. Despite what she had said to Terri Michael, she was quietly keeping track of him and knew he had just completed his Advanced Intel Analyst school, first in his class, as usual. A gentle impact from Terri Michael's toe on her shin brought her back to reality, now in full attention to what Captain Harris was saying.
"...there are risks here - no denying that. Not only is there a risk of contact with the enemy, but there is also a possibility we will encounter yet a different culture. I know I don't need that right now! Three is plenty, so try to avoid that, OK?
"
He got the polite laughter he deserved.
"Finally, we still don't know what the attack at Inor was really about. There is the invasion theory, there is also a genocide theory. But we don't really know. Hopefully, this search will result in some kind of revelation that clears that up for all of us."
He sat down as Fiona stood.
"Regarding the potential for contact with new cultures, we are not the United Federation of Planets, and there is no 'prime directive' for you to follow. We should, however, avoid contact whenever possible for operational security reasons. We don't know what we don't know, and any culture could potentially be an ally, or a subject, of the enemy."
She turned to Ron Harris. "SLIP?"
He nodded in response and stood.
"About the SLIP system. We don't know if the enemy is listening on SLIP or not. We think it is at least possible that they are. I can't say 'probably listening,' but that's how we'll work. Make your status reports right before you leave the system. If they are listening, by the time they've figured out where you are, you'll be gone. Whatever you send, keep it short, again assuming the enemy is listening. Also, given all the uncertainties in these schedules, if you are detected or fired on, get a SLIP message out immediately. There will be long periods where we really don't know where you are, so if they get onto you, call for help. Now, any questions?"
"On SLIP, the transmissions are all encrypted, are they not?" Len Davis asked.
"They are, as were the German U-boat transmissions in the Second World War. Let's not repeat that experience."
"I assume FleetIntel has looked into whatever data we already have on these systems?" another captain asked.
Fiona nodded.
"Yes, I asked them right after the Inor attack to review everything, even back to SETI in the early part of the century. We have some remote images, Hubble and Spitzer and Webb and their successors, but nothing that rules these systems in or out as the source of this enemy species. This general plan is based on the latest information we have, Commander."
Again, Ron and Fiona traded places.
"I do have a couple of surprises for you, new arrows in your quivers."
Ron suddenly had dozens of curious eyes on him.
"We've been working on a ship- deployable probe since well before the Inor attack. We realized that a Lance was most of what we need in a probe, but they tend to explode when they get near an enemy ship."
He waited for the polite laughter to subside.
"So instead of developing a whole new vehicle, we've devised a kit that you can use to convert a Lance into a probe we're calling a Sleuth."
"Cute name," Kieran Barker commented.
"The process involves removing the warhead and replacing it with sensors and communications equipment."
"But a Lance isn't stealthy, Captain Harris. Won't it be seen?"
"Part of the kit is a stealth cover that you put on the vehicle after the conversion is complete. Your Intel and Weapons people will be getting complete briefings and written instructions before you leave. Each ship will have six kits."
"The second surprise is a new weapon."
More rumbles of approval for this came from the audience.
"Normally FleetWeapons would brief you on this but he is unavailable today so I get to give you the good news. The Lance is like a rifle bullet. We decided we needed a sawed-off shotgun to go with it."
Now there was real excitement in the room.
"It's called a Bludgeon, and as its name implies, it is a large, crude weapon. It contains four hundred kilograms of explosive. But the shotgun part is the hundred tennis-ball sized steel spheres expelled when it detonates. We're hoping that wide areas of the target will negatively impacted by their arrival."
"When will these be available?" Len Davis asked.
"Immediately. They'll be delivered before you go."
"How many can I get?" Terri Michael asked.
"FleetWeapons can give you about one quarter of your weapons load in Bludgeons. Production is not quite at full speed yet."
"One more thought," Ron said, taking the podium, "is that we should expect this enemy to be looking for us as well. They knew enough to fire on Liberty before she had taken any action against them. Beyond that, we have no idea if they are aware of us or not. If they aren't, their experience at Inor should make them start looking. I would not be surprised to run across their vessels as we search these stars, even if they don't actually inhabit the system."
There were a few more questions on process and messaging, and then the meeting wrapped up. There were more greetings, farewells, handshakes, and collegial embraces as the officers worked their way out of the room. It was all very courageous, on its face, but there was an undercurrent of anxiety about the risks they faced and the hard fact, known to all, that some would never see this place, or these colleagues, again.
Henderson watched them leave with Ben Price.
"How many, Ben, will be with us a year from now? How many have we seen for the last time?"
Ben crossed his arms and thought for a moment.
"Some, I am sure of that. But it's our job to help as many get back as we can, right?"
She nodded, then picked up her tablet and headed up the incline to the back of the room. As she got to the line her arm went around the shoulders of Carol Hansen. It was a brief, reassuring gesture.
Ben remained for a minute, watching the queue at the door slowly dissolve into the outer lobby. Having spent the last nine years in Intel and Plans, he had never felt so deeply connected to the fleet before. For him it was no longer just a collection of ships, but a living population of commanders, officers, and crews. Having recently spent so much time talking to them, the loss of a ship was no longer a conceptual thing but the painful prospect of losing real people he knew and respected. He stood there feeling a dark dread, then, realizing he was the last man in the room, hustled himself into the lobby to greet whoever he could before they were gone.
Fleet Shuttle Landing Area
Fort Eustis, VA
Monday, February 28, 2078, 1300 EST
It was cold, with a sharp wind blowing down out of the north that somehow smelled like snow. Newly promoted Commander Len Davis carried his duffel from the ground transport, pushing against the bitter bite on his face. He wrestled his way into the shuttle waiting facility, pulling off his knit cap and tossing the duffel on an empty chair. He walked over to the desk to check in. A young crewman stood as he approached.
"Commander Davis, headed for Sigma."
The crewman checked his manifest, poked the screen to confirm Davis' presence, and looked up.
"About a half hour yet, Commander. The warrant officer over there is also headed for Sigma."
He indicated a young Warrant Officer sitting not far from Davis' duffel. His face buried in his tablet, headphones in his ears, his uniform looked fresh, his double Rings of Saturn bright and new. He looked up, sensing Davis looking at him, and Davis saw green eyes, light brown hair and a pleasant, if not overly handsome face. As Davis walked in his direction, the warrant stood. As he got close, he could read the name tag.
"At ease Mister Powell. I'm Commander Davis. You're headed for Sigma?"
Davis pulled his bag over and dropped into a chair one removed from Powell.
"Yes sir, as are you."
"First trip out?"
Powell nodded twice. "Yes, Commander. I understand it's your first command."
"Worried, Mister Powell?" Davis asked comically.
"Not at all, sir. Congratulations."
"Thank you. What's your assignment?"
"I just finished the upper Intel school, sir, I'll be Chief Tech of the Intel section."
"Good. I can cross that off my list of worries."
Davis was sincere, but with a humorous edge. Powell liked him right off, he seemed like a man who could listen.
"I hope so, sir."
Powell, Davis thought, where have I heard that name? Hans
en! She said he was a warrant somewhere. At that moment Len realized he had Carol Hansen's lost classmate on his Intel staff. He decided to probe just a little more to see what had actually happened.
"So, tell me about yourself, Mister Powell. How did you come to join the Fleet?" David squirmed uncomfortably. He knew Davis had been at Inor with Carol. Davis might know about him, then again, he might not. He decided he might as well tell the truth since, in any case, it was easier to remember.
"Well, sir, it's a long story. The short version is that I was at SFU but had to drop - family reasons. I'd been there long enough that I had a commitment to fulfill so when I was able to come back they made me a warrant."
"I see, and how do you feel about that?"
David frowned.
"Like when your fondest ambition is one step from your grasp then it just disappears, like a mirage. Sir."
"I'll bet it does. Still, you're in an important job on my ship, and I'll be counting on you."
"I know my duty, Commander. I will do my job best I can, have no worries about that."
David's voice was firm and even, and Davis was confident that he meant what he said.
"Very good, Mister Powell, as I said, I will cross off the Intel section as something to worry about."
David smiled and went back to this tablet. Davis sat back in the chair, closing his eyes as he mentally reviewed his assignment. Sigma was a good ship, older, but solid and with a creditable crew. It was a choice first command. The search would soon be on, he knew, and he had ambitions for finding, and killing, as many of the enemy as possible. They would pay for Carpenter, he vowed silently, and for all the rest, they would pay a hundred-fold.
March 2078
Sigma
Earth Orbit
Monday, March 7, 2078, 0930 UTC
As Sigma floated quietly above the mid-Pacific Ocean, a typhoon brewing right below her, Len Davis looked around his new wardroom for a moment before starting the discussion. He was mostly pleased with what he saw, lots of good people with a few that, well, needed further attention.
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