Nothing there; good.
When they reached the communication junction box, they opened the hatch and chose the cable to attach the bug to. There were no guards in the vicinity of the junction box. The problem of bugging the aliens on this moon was less formidable than he had thought.
They worked for the better part of an hour before Gallant was satisfied. He listened to several transmissions to be sure the device was operating properly and transcribed the first message to see if it made sense. The message said, in effect, that a certain military unit was to move. He guessed it was a routine operation.
Gallant realized that even collecting important data was not going to do any good, unless he got better at understanding the content of the messages. The next message appeared to be a general message addressing the public announcing a victory in battle and claiming to having defeated a large force of humans in the asteroid belt. There were no precise figures or details of the combat. He surmised it was a propaganda notice to keep their civilian population pacified.
They left the bugging device in place to record messages while they were gone and then they made their way back to the Wasp. They were about half way there when they noticed a shuttle craft pass overhead, but it passed without incident.
They were lucky to avoid threats, both real and imagined. When they emerged from the outcropping of rocks they got aboard the Wasp and lifted off.
After rendezvousing with the Warrior, they left the moon’s orbit.
“Find a suitable ship for us to trail in order to exit the area,” Gallant ordered.
CHAPTER 25
Gabriel
Gallant held the stylus loosely in his right hand and let it flow gently over the drawing tablet’s surface, tracing a thin curved line along the contour of the facial image. The faint stroke added to an existing collection of marks, composing the striking features of a beautiful woman. He held his breath and examined the sketch with a critical eye, observing all of its multifaceted flaws, as well as its inadequacy to capture the true underlying beauty of his model.
In the background, an aria from a classic opera was playing that suited his mood. This artistic outpouring provided Gallant with a tranquil respite after weeks of tension-filled espionage operations and he had come to cherish these diversions for a few hours each week.
An unwelcome knock on his cabin door interrupted his serenity. He put the drawing down on his desk and begrudgingly said, “Enter.”
The door opened a crack and Midshipman Gabriel peeked inside, aware that he was trespassing into sacred territory.
“I’m sorry to disturb your rest period, sir,” said a deferential, but unrepentant voice.
“Never mind,” said Gallant. He turned the music down and asked, “What do you need?”
Gabriel entered the cabin and stood at attention. He spoke excitedly, “You said I should see you as soon as I passed my pilot qualification exams. Chief Howard has signed off on my last AI administrated exam.” He held a tablet in his outstretched hand for Gallant’s inspection.
“At ease,” said Gallant, taking the tablet. He looked down at the long list of qualification check-offs that the midshipman had completed. The last one had been signed by Chief Howard a mere ten minutes earlier. He then cast a lingering look at Gabriel who squirmed under his commanding officer’s scrutiny.
Finally, Gallant said, “Congratulations. You’re ready to solo in the Wasp. I’ll make arrangements for your qualifying flight the next time we recharge batteries at Base Kepler.”
Beaming, Gabriel said, “Thank you, sir.” However, lost in the excitement of the moment, he remained firmly rooted where he was standing.
The musical recording chose that moment to reach a loud crescendo. The expressive melody caught Gabriel’s attention, and, in a distracted voice, he remarked, “I’ve never heard music like that before.”
He was so entranced, that he left out the obligatory, ‘sir,’ which Gallant forgivingly let pass.
“It’s a classical opera. It stimulates my imagination while I sketch,” said Gallant, longing to return to his leisure activity, yet patient enough to let the young man express himself.
“It’s beautiful, sir,” said Gabriel with admiration. He had entered the private world of his commanding officer and was exposing a touch of hero worship.
“It’s one of my favorite pieces,” said Gallant. He listened as the music rose and the sweet soprano voice extended a lingering note’s emotional impact.
“What language is that, sir?”
“Italian.”
“Do you mind if I ask, what’s she saying, sir?” the freckled face was eager to drink in the experience.
“She’s singing about an officer whose ship travels to a foreign land where he falls in love with a native girl—it ends in tragedy, I’m afraid,” said Gallant, letting his mind wander over the majesty of the more expansive version of the tale he reviewed in his mind.
“It’s mesmerizing, sir. I love it.” Turning his attention to Gallant’s sketch, Gabriel, once more, commented impulsively, “She’s lovely.”
Gallant sighed,
This young man is so free in expressing his feelings.
“Is she someone special, sir?”
“Yes. Her name is Alaina. Unfortunately, she is very far away.” He paused, deciding he didn’t want to discuss his personal relationships, so he turned the question around, “Do you have someone back home?
“Yes, sir. My hometown sweetheart, Jennifer. I’ve loved her from the moment we met.” He added unabashed. “I’ll marry her someday.”
“Someday?”
“Well, yes, sir. After this deployment, I’ll be promoted, and I hope I’ll be stationed back on Mars. You'll see, everything will work out perfectly.”
Gallant smiled wistfully, wondering if Jennifer would still be waiting.
“Will you marry Alaina, sir?” asked the midshipman shamelessly.
Gallant paused and then gave a half-hearted shrug to express his actual uncertainty.
“Do you mind if I give you some advice, sir? Love is fleeting—you should embrace it while you can—you’d never forgive yourself if you let it get away,” said Gabriel with all the smug astuteness his seventeen years permitted.
Stunned by the presumption of the youth, Gallant took a moment before ultimately deciding there was wisdom in his words.
CHAPTER 26
Pandora
Gallant slept badly that night and woke in a positively cross mood. Still feeling the aftereffects of his last mission—it took several minutes before he shook off a variety of aches and pains. His head was filled with disturbing visions of strange people. He gave his mind a chance to evaluate the lingering qualms of his dreams. As he remained sitting in bed—waiting for his black mood to fall away—his scowl morphed into a neutral acceptance of the day. By the time he made his way to the bridge, he was ready for the daunting day ahead.
The Warrior’s exploits had become more and more exciting as they treaded closer and closer to danger. And with each successful operation, the crew’s confidence grew. While confidence is generally good, it can also lead to carelessness. It was important to remember that the dangers they faced were real, ever present, and could materialize at a moment’s notice, even if the crew was not noticing them as much.
From the priority messages Gallant had recently translated, he was beginning to piece together a Titan plan that involved the entire armada in a major attack. Such information needed to be validated and updated, driving him to take increased risk to acquire messages from higher military authorities.
The highest Titan authority was on Pandora at the main military headquarters. Gallant hoped to collect and decode communications from this facility to learn their most secret operations. By now the Warrior was an old hand at penetrating enemy positions and planting and collecting bugs, but he knew he had to be alert for this day’s task because while Pandora was likely to have the most valuable intelligence, it was also likely to be the most dangerous mission fo
r that very reason.
When Gallant came onto the bridge, Roberts frowned and said, “Sir, you’ve been driving yourself very hard the last few weeks. Don’t you think we might relax the schedule for a day, or so, and give everyone a chance to rest?”
“I wish we had that luxury, but the recent messages all indicate that the aliens are getting ready for something big. We can’t afford to take time off now. We’re schedule to tackle Pandora today and that’s what we’ll do.
“This is the Titan's playground,” Roberts pointed out, “They’re likely to be touchy about visitors.”
“They seem to be creatures of habit. We should be able to take advantage of their routine operations.”
“We’re going to have to follow a few ships on the way to our designated location.”
“Check with CIC for what ships are appropriate.”
The Warrior glided confidently through the rings at slow speed. The enemy sensor arrays sounded no alert.
The sensor tech reported, “Closest point of approach to array is 50 km.”
“Bridge, CIC; contact bearing 233, mark one.”
“Very well.”
“Bridge, CIC; contact has zero bearing rate.”
“Helm, increase your rudder to right full,” said the OOD.
“Increase rudder to right full, helm, aye, sir.”
“Skipper, what are we dealing with?”
“Someone was alert aboard the destroyer. The picket ship got a whiff of something, but couldn't tell what. Now they’re heading in the Warrior's direction.”
Gallant gave orders to switch to ultra-stealth mode putting out its lowest profile.
What he needed was some good luck. Everybody on board realized the risk they were taking. It was a nerve-racking business. There were a few ships they could trail. Gallant chose one and headed for it.
“Here she comes.”
A cargo ship came close enough to the Warrior and she glided behind it unobserved. The sigh of relief was universal throughout on the ship as their wake was safely disguised.
As Gallant looked at the view screen, he could see that the inner area was alive with activity. Ships traveled between the inner moons and satellites. At the outer edges where the Warrior was, there were picket ships interspersed with an early warning satellite system. The Warrior’s trajectory would pass close to many of these listening posts.
One of the picket ships altered course slightly toward the Warrior.
Soon it was time for Gallant and Gabriel to go to the launch bay.
When the Warrior reached the set distance, Roberts said, “Wasp, bridge; launch vehicle.”
The craft departed the Warrior.
“Activate stealth mode,” ordered Gallant going through the routine operations, as he and Gabriel flew the Wasp close to Pandora. Pandora was an especially difficult moon to approach because it was located in one of the densest sectors of Saturn’s rings.
Gallant said, “Take the flight controls, Gabriel.”
Since Gabriel had successfully completed his sole flight qualifications in the Wasp, Gallant had given him more and more responsibility for operating the craft and the precocious young man was doing exceptionally well.
As the vehicle approached the moon, Gabriel controlled the flight path with great precision and they reached the point where he could land on the moon. They disembarked and began their EVA to the communication junction box.
The general area was guarded and they had to proceed with caution. There was a path cut into the rocks that led to the communication junction box. They began their work of collecting the secret messages the communication junction box offered.
“Wait!” Gallant whispered harshly.
There was a motion near the building. A guard was coming.
They hid and waited for the guard to pass.
He adjusted his oxygen flow rate when he found himself using more than usual. Eventually they finished their work and made their way back to the Wasp.
When they returned to the Wasp, they took off. The Wasp trailed behind Titan ships as they moved through the rings. A pair of picket ships lumbered across their course, bumbling along a trajectory intended to alert the system of intruders, yet having failed to detect them.
On their journey back to the Warrior, Gallant poked his nose further into the deployment of enemy ships. He was able to identify numerous cruisers and destroyers assembled in orbit. Maintaining a database of each ship that they could catalog was helpful in identifying the location where they reported and how they maneuvered.
They kept their attention on keeping track of the ring debris so that they could avoid leaving a wake or any signal that could be picked up by the Titan destroyers on picket duty.
EEEEEERRRRRRRR!!!
The siren went off on the Wasp.
“We have an overload in the engine,” said Gallant.
Gabriel said, “I’m seeing harmonic vibration in the stealth containment field.”
“Try to compensate and keep the system stable,” said Gallant as he fought to do the same with the engine drive system.
Gabriel said, “I think our cloak is fluctuating. We may become visible!”
Gabriel worked hard to restore the cloak controls while Gallant adjusted the propulsion system.
The neural interface allowed each of the men to focus their mental energies on balancing the modulation and frequency of the field. Slowly they regained control and reestablish the harmonic balance. The cloak was fully restored and the engines returned to full power.
The scary moment disappeared as Gallant and Gabriel worked together.
A few minutes later they were back on course, operating normally.
Fortunately the enemy ships passed without siting them.
“We're slipping through, sir.”
Moments later they relaxed for the first time in hours.
“Good job, Gabe,” said Gallant using his nickname for the first time. It felt right.
Gabriel lit up enthusiastically, “Thank you, sir.”
When they rendezvoused with Warrior, they docked.
“Let’s get aboard the Warrior,” said Gallant, glad the mission was over.
As Gallant got out of the Wasp, he ordered Chief Howard to check the Wasp to see what caused malfunction.
CHAPTER 27
Collecting
Repeatedly, Gallant had to conduct missions in the Wasp to sneak back to the moons and collect recorded data, and then leave, without arousing the aliens’ suspicion. The operations meant stealth incursions into highly trafficked and well-guarded bases. It called for cunning to collect the information, recalibrate the recorders, and get back to safety. Before each operation, he played every possible permutation in his mind as if he were playing chess. However, in this game, his opponents were genius autistic savants. They had unique AI networking abilities and their own interpretation of game theory. His brain had to account for their complex thought processes.
He wondered.
Can I really outthink them?
A tap at Gallant’s cabin door brought a growl, “Come in.”
It was Midshipman Gabriel.
“Mr. Clay sent me, sir. He says there are activities at the entrance to the base that you should look at if you have the time, sir.”
“Very well. I'll come.”
It was a peculiarity of some officers of the deck to send a runner, rather than to use the ships communication channels, to alert the captain of lower priority information. Gallant wasn't exactly sure why that had developed as a preference for certain types of reports—perhaps it kept down the level of stress.
As he entered the bridge, he looked at the forward portal and the AI consoles to see what had stirred the OOD's attention.
Clay said, “It's a general broadcast signal. The Titans are sending a signal to all the ships around Saturn. We've never seen this before, sir.”
“What the devil are they doing?” asked Gallant.
“Maybe it’s a transfer of supplies. A
last minute activity?” suggested Clay.
Gallant spent a few more minutes speculating then he said, “Let CIC analyze this signal. I’m going back to my cabin."
In his cabin, he opened up the communications panel and looked once more at his orders specific to this type of operation.
He began to rise from his chair unconsciously pacing back and forth on the restricted deck, five steps forward, and five steps back.
Finally, Gallant stretched out on his cot, waiting for time to pass, hoping he could fall asleep, but sleep would not come. It was better to lie there and rest regardless of how fidgety he was.
***
A few hours later, Gallant got aboard the two-man craft. He ran his eyes up and down over the console panels reading the parameters. They were off on another collection mission.
With Gallant on a mission, Lieutenant Clay had a chance to contemplate his situation. He sat in the command chair on the bridge of the Warrior. He touched the console screen and pulled up a vast array of virtual controls capable of monitoring and directing every aspect of the ship. Part of his brain concentrated on recovering the Wasp from her latest excursion on the Titan moon. He swiped a screen to display a three dimensional image of Pandora. The moon was as harsh as ever and posed a deadly threat. The methane atmosphere was volatile with periodical bursts of volcano activity.
A sentry destroyer turned toward the Warrior. Clay leaned forward, his hands tightly gripping the chair, his jaw jutted out, he said, “Helm, slow to one third. CIC find us a slow moving freighter we can trail.”
“Aye, aye, sir,” came the voice from CIC.
“Helm, set course 150, mark two,” said Clay.
“Aye aye, sir.” A moment later, “Sir, steady course on 150, mark two.”
“Very well.”
Powerful and majestic, the Warrior passed high above the moon.
A few minutes later, CIC said, “The destroyer is maneuvering closer.”
“Helm. Ahead two-thirds,” ordered Clay.
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Slowly the Warrior clawed her way out of orbit and toward safety, away from the moon. All eyes clung to the screen following their trajectory.
Henry Gallant and the Warrior (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 3) Page 14
