"Yes, ma'am. The other group is about forty symbols. We can't be sure that's the whole set, but that's what we have seen so far. Our working theory, based on the language references available aboard, is that it's an alphabet. But again, we need a language expert to verify that."
Ron Harris shifted in his seat.
"So, we need a language expert. Seems to me we also need an archeologist to figure out the culture."
"Yes, sir," she agreed, "That would make a lot of sense."
Jack rejoined Carol.
"We've spent the whole trip back talking about this, sir."
He pointed to the screen.
"This is an advanced society. There are photographs, there are what look like addresses or names on the buildings." His voice was rising slightly as he spoke. "We believe there must be libraries, computer centers, other kinds of places where huge amounts of information would be found."
"So, what are you saying, Lieutenant?" CINC asked.
"Well, sir, I guess I'm saying that we really do want to go back. We want to get some SLUGs and some experts and get down on the surface and figure out what the hell happened to these people."
To emphasize his point, Jack switched to the portrait, its obviously intelligent eyes seemed to look out directly at them.
"These people, sir," he said, emotion in his voice, his body stiff with stress, "These people deserve an answer."
There was a long silence after that, CINC looking at the portrait. Emotionally demonstrative men don't typically rise to command, and CINC was no exception. But he was clearly moved by what he saw, and when moved he was uniquely positioned to act. He stood and turned to Harris.
"How long do you need to get a plan together to go back?"
Ron shrugged. "Dunno for sure, sir. Maybe a month."
CINC nodded at looked at Terri Michael.
"You up for this, Commander?"
Her smile said it all, but CINC also saw the excitement in her officers.
"We are, sir."
CINC grinned, something he rarely did and looked at Ron Harris.
"Ron, go find whoever you need - language, archeology, whatever. We'll find the money."
He turned from Harris to Cook.
"Patty. give Antares whatever priority she needs, get them outfitted and get them back there as soon as we can."
"Yes, sir."
He took a deep breath, then looked around the room, meeting each eye in turn.
"This remains Top Secret. Once the follow-up mission is complete and we have more answers, we'll release what we know to the public." Donna nodded her agreement. "This is exceptional work, Commander."
"Thank you, sir. I am blessed with good people."
"Indeed, you are."
He shook hands with Terri Michael, then the rest of the Antares personnel, giving each a firm grip and a sincere 'well done' or 'good work.'. He then walked up the incline and out of the theater. He could hear the excited victory calls as the door closed behind him. It usually wasn't much fun being CINC, he thought to himself, but today was pretty good.
Michael would be up for another promotion soon, he knew, and with a growing fleet, he'd have to look at his organization. Was it time to create destroyer squadrons and cruiser divisions? Would adding another layer of command closer to the action make any difference? The time issues associated with the command structure in this environment bothered him. He didn't feel like he could maneuver the fleet in an optimal way. He felt like he was watching more than doing, and that would not do. Perhaps it was yet too early, he reminded himself. As long as we're searching for them, each ship working independently, more structure was probably unnecessary. Once we find them, on the other hand, and we start hunting them more directly, then we might want to diversify authority to exploit opportunities and avoid disasters.
He arrived back at his office, strolling through the reception area, and closing his door behind him, almost without consciously taking note of it.
Michael and Hansen had delivered again, he thought. They'd be famous, again, which they would hate, again. Ballard and XO George had also made huge contributions, and he reminded himself to not ignore that. It was sometimes too easy to give more credit to the 'celebrities' and miss what others had done. Terri would be furious if she thought he'd done that, he knew. Fleet didn't give out medals, but he pulled out a notepad to start drafting letters of commendation for several individuals, and a Fleet unit award for Antares.
As he was making his list of names, thinking carefully about what to say about each one, Noah Peters came into his office, unannounced and in a rush.
"Noah?" he asked, perplexed.
"There's a message from Tranquility, sir," he said as he passed the NetComp over to Davenport.
"You really need to read this." Noah handed the tablet with the message to CINC.
FLASH 207807101500UTC
TO: CINCFLEET
FROM: STATION TRANQUILITY-II ACTUAL (WHITTAKER)
TOP SECRET
SIGMA REPEAT SIGMA REPORTED IN 1445 THIS DATE WITH 43 SURVIVORS
CW2 POWELL REPORTS ALL LINE OFFICERS KIA
EXPECT HER THIS STATION 0430 UTC TOMORROW
WILL ADVISE WHEN MORE DETAILS AVAILABLE
END
CINC read the message, then grabbed Noah and ran back to the conference room. Terri, Carol, and the rest of the Antares personnel were still talking to Operations Chief Cook and Intel Chief Ron Harris when they returned. They all turned in surprise as CINC and his aide came noisily through the entry doors.
"Sir?" Cook asked.
"Sigma!" he called as he half-ran down the aisle. "Sigma! She's not lost!"
He handed the message to Cook, who read it while Terri and Carol watched, wide-eyed.
"Lieutenant Hansen," Davenport began, "Your Mister Powell is alive and well. That's the good news."
"Oh my God," Cook said as she passed the tablet to Harris.
"But there is sad news, too. Powell reports all the officers were killed. He's got 43 survivors."
"More than half the crew lost?" James George asked, mostly to himself.
"I am afraid so," Cook answered.
"Where are they?" Carol asked quietly as she sat down in the front row, next to Terri Michael. Ron Harris looked at his watch before answering.
"Tranquility. If they've met their ETA, they've already docked. My God, what kind of a beating did she take?"
Carol looked up at Jack Ballard, who was looking down at her, smiling.
"Welcome back," he said. She stood and hugged him tightly.
"Jack, I'm sorry about-" she started to say as she let go. He didn't let her finish.
"Forget it, Carol. Over and done and buried. I am happy for you."
She held his eye for one more second before turning to her Captain, who had just received very different news.
"Ma'am, I am so sorry about Commander Davis."
Carol reached over to embrace Terri. They were two women who had seen an awful lot together, from Inor to GJ 1061 to Beta Hydri, and now this whipsaw moment of loss and relief and loss again. Rank didn't mean much right then, they were just two people sharing a wartime cocktail of pain and joy. Finally, Carol let go and stood back, still looking at Terri as she sank into a seat in the front row.
"I think you have a message to send, Lieutenant?" Terri said, managing a smile over her pain.
Carol nodded and took a seat next to her Captain. There was a flurry of voices around her, several side-conversations both in the room and on the phone. She closed her eyes for a second and then started typing.
SLIP PERSONAL 207807111500UTC
TO: SIGMA/CW2 DAVID POWELL
FROM: ANTARES/SLT CAROL HANSEN
JUST GOT THE GOOD NEWS FROM CINC.
THIS IS HOW IT WOULD FEEL TO BE A SINNER PAROLED FROM HELL.
MUCH SADNESS HERE FOR CDR DAVIS, LEAH, LISA, TRAVIS AND THE REST.
CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR YOUR STORY.
CAROL
END
As Carol raised her head from her phone and focused back on the conversation in the room, Ron Harris was talking.
"OK, this is good news, even if it's both good and bad." The side conversations died out. "But this doesn't change what we need to do at Beta Hydri."
They all agreed with him on that. He sat back down, clearly not finished.
"But there is something else you don't know. During the battle Commander Davis reported that he was being 'paced,' then he called it 'tracked.' That has to mean that he believed that Sigma was actively detected somehow."
There was a sound of surprise from the Antares crew, which had not heard of this before.
"I am hopeful that the survivors will have something more to say."
"Tracked?" Terri asked, now recovered and back in a commander's mindset.
"That's what he said."
"Amazing."
Noah Peters pulled CINC aside. "Have you told them?" he asked.
CINC looked back at him blankly.
"Powell, sir, the commission?" Davenport's face suddenly lit up.
"Oh, of course. No."
"Well?" Noah asked, prodding.
Davenport turned back to the Antares personnel. "Lieutenant Hansen, Commander Michael, may I have a moment?"
They walked a short distance away from the others. Noah Peters went with them.
"Sir?" Terri asked, clearly uncertain about what CINC might have to say.
"I put Noah on that Powell issue you brought to me."
Carol looked at Terri Michael with shock.
"You told them about David?" Carol asked Terri, surprised.
Terri looked back at her.
"I just passed on what you said to me, and what you showed me on Inor."
CINC looked from one to the other, finally asking Michael.
"You never told her?"
Terri shook her head and shrugged. "I didn't want to get her hopes up."
Carol was now wide-eyed, looking from one officer to another. CINC looked at her.
"I signed Mister Powell's commission a couple weeks ago. I sent it to Brian Whittaker at Tranquility since that was their next stop."
Carol closed her eyes, said a short prayer of thanks, then looked at CINC.
"Sir, you have no idea how much that will mean to him."
CINC smiled.
"Actually, I think I do. But Noah deserves most of the credit. He's relentless. And were it not for Commander Michael, it wouldn't have happened."
"Thank you, Noah."
Noah smiled back at Carol, something he rarely did on duty.
"Just doing the right thing, Carol, just leveling the scales."
Carol thought about following up her message with congratulations, but she decided to wait until she heard from David about it. If there were some delay at Tranquility II, she'd be wrecking the surprise, and she wanted David to get it from someone like Whittaker, someone of authority, and not second hand from her.
Carol sat back down a short distance from the others, trying to absorb what had happened in the last hour. Jack sat next to her, looking at her with a wry smile on his face.
"What?"
"Like I said, welcome back."
Intel Section
Starbase Tranquility II
Tuesday, July 12, 2078, 0800 UTC
Lieutenant Steve Crawford considered the man across from him. This young warrant officer who had just brought in a beat-up half-dead ship had demanded to see him. Admiral Whittaker wanted to see him next, he knew, but Powell insisted he see Intel first. He had sent a report ahead by laser, describing the tracking and his conversation with the Comms officer.
"OK, Mister Powell, I've read this, but let's go over it just in case. So, the Type I tracked you for over an hour?"
"Yes. I was very surprised that Commander Davis let it go on that long."
"I can see why. Then, after he struck that one, there was another?"
"Yes, as you can see in the report, another Type I came in at like half the distance and was also locked on somehow."
"I see. Tell me exactly what Ensign Farley said."
David winced as he recalled the conversation.
"She was in a lot of pain. I could hear her Chief kinda grunting in the background."
"Pain?"
"We'd been hit somewhere back there just before she called. Her voice was strained, and I heard her cough and spit a couple times. That wasn't like her. Seemed like it hurt her to breathe."
"OK, go ahead."
"She said they were tracking us with the SLIP receiver, and that she thought they might be doing it from FTL."
David thought for a moment, remembering Leah's voice on the phone.
"She said something about periodic fluctuations."
"Fluctuations in what?"
"I don't know. She was, uh, cut off, at that point."
Crawford looked across at Powell for a moment. The man was entirely under control, he could tell, but also reliving something awful.
"Cut off?"
"Missile hit the SLIP facility while she was on the phone."
"Jesus, Powell." Crawford shook his head. "That had to be hard."
"Ever meet her, Lieutenant?"
"No, never did."
David leaned back in his chair, looking up, hands in a pyramid in front of him. "Rich kid from the east coast somewhere. Ivy League degree in Economics, I think. Skinny little five foot nothing chick with this giant mass of dark curly hair." David moved his hands around his head as if to illustrate what Leah Farley looked like. "But inside, Lieutenant, inside, she was a giant."
"I can see that." Crawford tapped his finger on the report. "If this is right, she might have saved our asses."
David nodded. "I think she would have taken that deal, sir, so I hope we can make something of this. One more thing."
"Sure, what?"
"After Leah was killed, the enemy never fired on us again."
"Really?"
"Yeah, the whole battle was over before Abe Jackson pointed it out. It reinforced for me that they really were using the SLIP system to track us."
"I'll include that in what I send to FleetIntel. I can't send your whole report, but I'll get the important points across."
"Thanks."
"Of course. Glad to do it." Crawford stood and extended his hand across the desk. "The Admiral wants to see you, I think."
"Yes, he does. Any idea what that's about?"
Crawford smiled. "Only rumors."
David hesitated a second, but when Crawford didn't offer anything more, he left and headed to the Admiral's office.
Admiral Whittaker's Office
Starbase Tranquility II
Tuesday, July 12, 2078, 0845 UTC
Admiral Whittaker was even more intimidating in person than he had been over the video link. His perfectly tailored uniform showed a small, compact, powerful physique that reflected the mind which managed it. He offered Powell strong Fleet coffee from a beaten-up stainless-steel pot. They sat separated by the Admiral's desk for a long moment.
"You left SFU in '76?"
Uh, oh. Here it comes. David thought. "Yes, sir."
"Why?" A simple, direct question, but not at all accusatory. Despite his discomfort and mild intimidation, David intuitively liked this officer.
"Personal reasons, sir." Whittaker frowned and leaned forward in his chair, elbows on the desk. He looked even harder at Powell.
"That won't cut it, Mr. Powell. Nobody drops SFU, in the top fraction of his class, six months short of graduation, without a serious reason."
"I didn't say it wasn't serious sir, I said it was personal."
Whittaker nodded slowly, clearly thinking it over. He leaned back in his chair and changed the subject, apparently signaling acceptance of David's non-explanation.
"Know Commander Teresa Michael?"
"I've met her, sir, once, as I recall. She was finishing up instructing about the time I was arriving."
"Nothing more than that?"
"No, sir. Excuse me Admiral, but what's up with Commander Michael?"
"You're aware that she was on the ground at Inor when Liberty was destroyed?"
Powell nodded. "Yes, sir, of course. She's a household name these days. She has Antares now."
"Correct. Seems during that time on Inor she was so impressed with a certain ensign that she made her a lieutenant on the spot. A classmate of yours - Hansen."
David sat up with a start. "Carol. Yes, sir, I think everyone saw that in the media reports."
David said quietly. Whittaker smiled slightly.
"Yes."
Whittaker paused, then looked away from the document and directly at David.
"Is she any relation to the reason you left the U?"
David blinked and looked back at the Admiral. "No, sir, really, no."
Whittaker paused a second, observing Powell carefully, finally deciding he believed him.
"Well, as everyone knows Hansen acquitted herself very well during the time on Inor. She seems to have given you some credit for that."
Powell was silent.
"So, once she gets off Inor, Michael talked to CINC, who got the ball rolling at Fleet. They pulled your SFU transcript and your performance records. CINC signed off. You were already an ensign before you dragged that busted up ship of yours back here."
David sat perfectly still for a long moment. He saw the admiral smile slightly, awaiting his response.
"Sir?"
"You heard me, Mr. Powell."
"I am not sure I did, sir. Did you say 'Ensign'?"
"I did."
"Thank you, Admiral."
Despite his resistance, tears were forming at the corners of David's eyes.
"I have wanted this ever since I was a boy. It's what I almost had... Long as I can remember, this was all I wanted."
Whittaker nodded sympathetically. "It's all I ever wanted as well. We're both damn lucky to get it. But, I'm just the messenger for this. You should be thanking Lieutenant Hansen and Commander Michael. "
"I do sir. I mean, I will sir."
"But, you're not going to be an Ensign long."
The Admiral had a wry smile, one David had the impression wasn't seen very often in the office.
"Sir?"
"Michael got everybody to wake up and smell the coffee about you, Powell. Seems pretty clear to me that she was right. After what you've just done with Sigma, I'm going to finish the job. As of now, you're a Lieutenant. Here are your commission and your promotion."
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