"Smooth, Lieutenant Hansen, looks good," the chief commented.
"Seen that before, Chief?"
He nodded.
"Yeah if you're not real careful when you load them, that bracket can flex - almost like it's just a little too thin."
"I'm just glad this is the only one. Go ahead and offload the rotary and then re-load and offload again. If all that works, I think we can sign it off."
"Yes, ma'am. But, Lieutenant..." he hesitated.
"Yes, Chief?" she said, inviting him to say whatever was on his mind.
"Well, not really my place, but, I would have thought the Weapons Maintenance Officer would be back here dealing with this." She smiled slightly.
"I have a lot to learn, Chief, and the best way is hands-on, don't you think?"
"I do."
She left the weapon storage area and headed back forward. She took a quick lunch in the wardroom and then went to her quarters. At 1600 she'd have the Conn for four hours. She pulled a brand-new Bible from her bookshelf, and it crackled as she opened it. Her old one, its cover worn smooth, pages covered in handwritten comments and bulging with notes and long use, had burned up with Liberty. She missed it like a lost friend. It had been her companion since she was eight. She often thought about how she could reconcile her faith, its history, stories, and legends, with what she now knew of other worlds. Was the Inori's Ino the same God as hers? If so, had Christ died for the Inori, or even the enemy, as well as all humanity? She didn't know and thinking about it didn't really make it any better.
In her old Bible she had highlighted a passage from John: And I have other sheep, that are not of this fold, which some people thought meant 'souls' on other planets. Carol was skeptical that was what Jesus had in mind, and she didn't see that it mattered much to her own faith. There were things that people just could not know, she thought, and I can have faith without complete understanding.
She felt the faithful warrior's conflict: the competing commands of mercy and humility against the obligation to forcefully defend herself, her home, her friends against a dangerous enemy. She had seen first-hand the wretched deaths at Inor, and she could not, faith or no, allow that to happen again if it were in her power to stop it. That much, she was sure of. She would fight this enemy with a clear conscience, without hesitation or remorse. She was neither sheep nor wolf, rather the vigilant sheepdog dedicated to protecting the flock to the point of death. She and David had debated this very dilemma at length, long into the night, and he had eventually come to see, respect, and adopt her view.
She leaned back in her chair, arms crossed and looking at the ceiling. She thought a moment more about David, their 'spirited discussions,' his sincere, pleasant presence, and how his eyes had a soft intensity, an openness to her, that allowed her to just be herself, her feelings flowing openly. It was so different from Rick's hard stare. She thought about that last time before he disappeared, how David had stood next to her for so long. He asked nothing of her, just gave his support and caring when she needed it. Was there something there she was missing? She never felt small around David like she did with Rick. She and Rick were no longer a couple. She had tried to care for him, thinking she could bring out something positive she thought she saw deep within him. But if it was there, she never reached it, and now she doubted that there was much deep down in Rick but more Rick.
She was sorry to have wasted so much time on him, but there was no un-doing that now. She felt restless in her heart, like something she didn't know was trying to emerge, something important trying to be heard, or felt. But in these quiet moments, when she had time to search her own heart, over and over it was David was who appeared there.
Sigma
GJ 3622
Tuesday, March 22, 2018, 2120 UTC
Sigma came out of FTL about 10.5 AU from GJ 3622, coasting to the desired 10 AU distance and adjusting speed so she would passively orbit the star. As soon as they were back in normal space, her full complement of sensors opened up, and they started looking at the system. GJ 3622 is small, perhaps a tenth of the mass of Sol, and red, with an occasional flare. It didn't seem likely to have any indigenous life. In a few hours, they identified the Jupiter-class close companion and two other smaller but still sizeable gas planets. It took a little longer to recognize three small rocky planets, all bare of atmosphere and well outside any theoretical habitability zone for this red dwarf. There was an asteroid belt of sorts as well, orbiting just outside the primary companion.
Sixteen hours later, David got up from his workstation in the Intel section and headed for the Bridge. It was now midday Wednesday, and after a double shift examining data, he needed a break. He also wanted to sit with the Surveillance workstation on the Bridge to see how they were doing. It wasn't a very long walk, and when he got there, he found the Surveillance officer, Senior Lieutenant John Sanders, observing behind their position. They exchanged a silent greeting and David took his place standing next to Sanders, leaning against the raised command workstation which all the other stations half-encircled. Two techs were working the sensor arrays, one a senior chief and the other a relative newcomer, but as David observed them, he could see that they were doing a credible job. Sanders leaned over to David.
"Anything interesting in the re-processing?" he asked quietly.
David shook his head.
"No, nothing new. I was getting a little glazed-over back there so I thought I'd come up and see it from the pointy end."
"Still hoping for that high-albedo object?"
David smiled.
"Well, Lieutenant, I'm not sure ‘hoping’ is the word I would use but we are here to find the bastards, right?"
"True."
They continued to watch the process for another half hour. The Surveillance crew were methodically detecting and identifying orbiting objects, then examining them individually more closely with higher resolution detectors. They could then break out the reflective spectrum of each object, which gave them a general idea what it consisted of. David was looking for shiny, or high albedo, objects with a narrowly defined spectrum representative of a particular iron-nickel-carbon steel alloy. That was the best theory of what enemy ships and facilities would look like. As they watched, Lieutenant Todd Boyd came on the Bridge to take a practice watch at the Weapons station. When he saw David standing with Sanders, he came striding over. He grabbed David by the arm and pulled him over to the right corner of the Bridge.
"Powell! What the hell are YOU doing on the Bridge?" he hissed.
Taken slightly aback by Boyd's aggressive tone, David responded evenly.
"I was observing the Surveillance crew's process, getting a better idea of how they actually collect our data. It's really pretty interesting."
"How about you get your ass back to your little gnome-hole and do your own job? If you wanted to be on the Bridge you should have damned well stayed in school."
David, holding his temper better than usual, remained calm and even in his response,
"Lieutenant, I am doing my job. Understanding the source of our data helps inform its analysis."
He said nothing of the 16 hours he had already spent in the Intel Section, a double shift in which he had never laid eyes on Boyd.
"That's a matter of opinion, asshole," Boyd shot back, "and since I am your boss, it's only my opinion that matters. Get lost."
Sanders overheard a little of this, and started to turn towards Boyd to respond, but a quick glance and slight headshake from David stopped him. While they couldn't hear what he was saying, Boyd's aggressive body language was obvious, and now half the Bridge crew was looking at him. He was making something of a fool of himself, and David saw no reason to detract from that effort.
"As you wish, Lieutenant."
David stepped past Boyd and moved off the Bridge. Boyd caught Sanders staring at him.
"Little shit needs to know his place," Boyd said bitterly as he walked by.
Sanders said nothing, and Boyd finally took hi
s place at the Weapons console. David went back to Intel and checked on Abe Jackson and Sally Gray. Satisfied they were up to speed, he headed for his cabin to get some rest.
Sigma
GJ 3622
Wednesday, March 23, 2078, 2230 UTC
After 24 hours lazing in a 10 AU orbit around GJ 3622, Len Davis gave the order to start closing in on the planets. They started with the gas giant that happened to be nearest to them. The planets were all around the star, some off to their right or left, some on the opposite side of the star. Since the Drive made all of them easily accessible, Davis decided to check them out in random order.
"Better to be unpredictable," he said.
The first rocky planet they explored was about a half the mass of the Earth, with a diameter of just over 10,000 Km. They settled into a 1000 Km sun-oriented orbit, each revolution about 2 hours and 45 minutes. Having determined nothing was interesting in the moonscape below, Davis broke off after two orbits and headed for the next planet, one of the gas giants. This one was perhaps half the mass of Jupiter, and nearly featureless, like Neptune.
David was at his station in the Intel work area, validating and reviewing the data as it came it. Sally and Abe and David had worked up alert criteria to back up what FleetIntel had provided, and with the help of the Surveillance group had automated the process of reviewing Surveillance data. They had determined conditions for objects worthy of a second look, objects they wanted to examine in detail, and objects that should set off alarms. They were now in the validating phase, both continuing to manually inspect interesting data as well as checking the alerts that their post-processing routines generated. It was tedious work, but if they were going to be betting their lives on it, it was necessary. David was pretty sure they had a good handle on what not to alert on, but they had no actual enemy hardware to verify that the process would kick off an alert when it should. He fed it the data from Liberty as a test, which worked, but the lack of additional samples troubled him, and so he kept up a review of all data that met even their most minimal criteria. They just could not afford to miss anything.
The Weapons Officer had initially rejected Boyd, a situation which Boyd blamed on poor instruction and faulty assessments. He complained bitterly to the XO, LCDR Linda Rodriguez, that Briggs and Fleming had not given him an even chance. The fact that as the Intel Section Chief he reported to the Weapons Officer, whom he had just accused of bias, didn't seem to register with him. Rodriguez spoke separately with Briggs and Fleming and the Fire Control Tech Chief Tripp Dodson. She then directed Boyd get a second chance and run through the process again. It was essential to Boyd's career that he succeed and the XO wanted him to have every opportunity. If he failed, he would not make Senior Lieutenant and would be out of the service in less than 24 months.
The little Neptune — which the crew named Nepi — has several significant moons and a couple dozen small ones, all rocky and dull. In fact, the entire GJ 3622 system turned out to be as boring as one could hope, but it took several days to determine that.
David had slept from midday Wednesday late into the evening. By 2300 he was back in the Intel Section. Just before 0700 the next morning, he was still monitoring and post-processing the surveillance data when Lieutenant Lisa Briggs appeared at the work room door. He was again alone in the workroom. Jackson and Gray were at breakfast and would be back on duty soon.
"Mr. Powell?" she inquired quietly from behind him, trying not to startle him.
David turned to the door and stood when he saw who it was.
"Yes, Lieutenant Briggs, something I can do for you?"
Briggs, seeing that no one else was in the room, stepped in and closed the door. She hesitated as David sat back down.
"Lieutenant?" he prompted.
"Call me Lisa," she said.
Powell shook his head, indicating a chair for her. "Can't. What's on your mind?"
Lisa sat, her face looking a little pinched, clearly unhappy. Her long ponytail swung side to side as she talked.
"I heard about Boyd's little performance yesterday."
David raised his hands as he shrugged, a gesture of 'nothing I can do about that.' Lisa continued, a tone of worry in her voice.
"I have to tell you, David, that little shithead's ego exceeds his abilities. Weaps doesn't want to certify him - thinks he'll choke in the clutch. XO is pushing to let him sit anyway."
"Why are you telling me this, Lieutenant? It would better for me if he made it in Weaps and I would not have to deal with him."
"So you know you're not the only one who sees this jerk for what he is. Jake - Senior Lieutenant Fleming - is about to give the XO the bad news. And what's wrong with Lisa?"
"We're not cadets anymore — you're no longer a year behind me — our places are sorta reversed, and I just feel that I need to avoid anything that feels like I am stepping out of my lane. Most everybody knows the story now and if they start to think I'm using old connections for - whatever - I'll lose all credibility."
"You wouldn't."
"Maybe not, but you were taught like I was, that leadership is perception as much as reality."
She nodded in response, her regret evident on her face.
"I just can't get over that you didn't get back into the University. You should have, you know."
David smiled weakly, a reflection of pain that wasn't exactly fresh but wasn't wholly over, either.
"Perhaps, but I didn't, and that is the reality we live in."
She reached across and touched his shoulder.
"We admired you back then, David. Anyone who knew you then still does. You never treated us like plebes or underclassmen. We appreciated that more than I can tell you. Something will happen, I am sure, to get you back where you belong."
He thought for a moment before answering. His voice resigned, but clearly not satisfied.
"Who's to say this isn't where I belong?" he said, pointing to the deck. "For now, at least, I have work to do, and I am going to keep doing that until something else happens."
She shrugged, mostly agreeing with him. Then she smiled, held his shoulder firmly, pulled him closer and kissed him on the cheek.
"For luck."
Then, she was up and out of the room. David took a moment to process what had just happened, then got back to the work in front of him. Something will happen, she had said, to get you back where you belong. It made him hurt anew that he wasn't where he might have been, and he wasn't sure the hope she encouraged in him was really a good thing. So often he had seen hope 'spring eternal' only to be followed closely by reinvigorated despair. He shook off the feeling and went back to work.
Finally, early on March 25, they left. Davis was satisfied but also disappointed at having seen nothing of the enemy nor of anyone or anything else. As they left they sent the required no-contact SLIP to HQ, and David took the transit time to continue to study their surveillance process, refine what he could, add where he thought necessary.
Lisa Briggs turned up twice, inviting him to come along for meals in the wardroom. He went, glad for some friendly company, but was still wary of her attention. In his mind, they could be friends, even close friends, but he could not let her think that there might be more to it than that. They had the shared experience of the University to draw on, and they were, after all, shipmates. But at some point, he might have to push her back, as gently as possible, to keep everything clear. For David, there was no Plan B, and he believed that Lisa deserved to be someone's Plan A.
ISC Fleet HQ Intel Section
Ft. Eustis, VA
Monday, March 28, 2078, 1030 EST
It had been a couple weeks since Ann had hatched the idea of the persistent surveillance drone that started out as an 'InfoMine' but wound up a 'Sentinel.’ She grudgingly admitted to herself that Sentinel really was an apt name, and it was far more important to her that her concept became reality than it retain her somewhat silly name.
She headed to Ron Harris' office for her regular updat
e to him on the progress. She waited at the door a minute until he opened it from the inside. A woman sat across from his desk, blonde hair pulled back, thin, with hard, severe features.
"Thanks for coming in, Susan," Harris said, dismissing her, "I will talk to CINC and get back to you."
She stood, shook Harris' hand, and left, not appearing to notice Ann at the door. After she was gone, Ann took her seat.
"Who was that?" she asked conversationally.
"Exobiologist." He looked at the door as if to make sure she was really gone. "Want's a direct to Commander and charge of the project."
"Wow."
"She may get it. OK so how are we doing on the Sentinels?"
"Fine. The factory is planning to add a small line to generate the fuselages if we go into full production. For the first twenty, they'll have to hand-install the sensors and antennas. They feel it's too small a run to set up a whole new assembly line to do the completion work."
"And the power units?"
"Radioisotope Thermoelectric Generators. They say they can give us an RTG from a unit they already had for some kind of exploration probe. They weren't too specific, and I didn't ask a lot of questions."
Harris nodded. "Agreed. Never look a gift horse in the mouth."
Ann looked at him, slightly puzzled.
"Never mind."
"Ok, then, the SLIP scanner and transmitter are the biggest payload mass - but the design seems to be able to handle it. We agreed on ion thrusters to keep it oriented."
"The RTG is up to that load?" Harris asked, skeptically.
"Actually, the load is pretty small in the overall context of the vehicle. It's fine."
Harris nodded his understanding.
"Fine."
Harris took a sip of his coffee, expecting Ann to get up and head back to her own desk, but she didn't move.
"Something else on your mind, Ann?" Ron didn't use first names much, only in private and only to indicate that the more junior person was free to express themselves.
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