by Tori Harris
There were some muffled sounds on the channel, followed shortly thereafter by the Commander in Chief’s voice. “Sorry about that, Captain. Things are still a bit chaotic down here at the moment.”
“How can we help, Admiral?”
“Well, first and foremost, provide your medical staff whatever resources they require to save Admiral Naftur. You can be anywhere on the planet in a matter of minutes, if need be. You have absolute authority to bypass whatever rules you need to in order to make that happen.”
“Will do, sir. I’ve already spoken to Doctor Chen. She believes having Ambassador Turlaka assist her in the surgery may tip the balance in their favor. Do you believe she will be too traumatized to do so?”
“Traumatized? No I wouldn’t say that. I pretty much had to tackle her to keep her from shredding Chairwoman Crull to ribbons. She’s on her way up to you now and I’m sure she will do whatever is required to help.”
“What is the situation with the Leadership Council?”
“Frankly, I have no idea. Right before speaking to you, I drafted a priority message to be hand-delivered to Lisbeth Kistler and Samuel Christenson — two Council members I know and trust. I attempted to summarize the situation and offered to surrender myself into their custody if that is indeed the will of the Council. If that happens, I expect Admiral White will be taking over as Commander in Chief.”
“I can’t imagine it will come to that, sir. Don’t you think Crull was operating pretty much on her own at this point?”
“To an extent, yes. Then again, the Council has approved some very unusual orders over the past couple of weeks. Speaking of that, while I still have the authority to do so, I have declared the Headquarters campus an active emergency operations area until things are back under control. Until you depart, I want Theseus sitting right over the center of the facility to make that fact abundantly clear. There will be a full battalion of Marines taking over security here by the end of the day. In fact, I expect the first elements to begin arriving in less than fifteen minutes. I’ll release your Marines from guard duty as soon as their replacements arrive.”
“Understood, sir. Hopefully, that will provide Doctor Chen enough time to determine if she needs anything else.”
“It will have to be enough time, Captain. We cannot afford to delay the reconnaissance mission out to Location Dagger any longer than absolutely necessary. As soon as you are finished with me, update Admiral Patterson and let him know you’ll be prepared to depart shortly.”
“Aye, sir.”
“And say a prayer for Admiral Naftur. He already saved my life today. If he pulls through this, I hope you can provide him the opportunity to save us all.”
***
The operating room aboard TFS Theseus was truly state of the art, which in many ways implied that it was at least a decade ahead of most of those in planet-side hospitals. Here, the very latest in Pelaran-enhanced robotics was coupled with one of the most powerful AIs available anywhere in the world. Even with all of this technology at their disposal, however, many of the most delicate procedures — including the repair of Admiral Naftur’s aorta — still came down to the skilled hands of a gifted surgeon. While Doctors Chen and Turlaka worked, the OR’s dedicated gravitic and environmental conditioning systems would prevent even the destroyer’s most aggressive maneuvers or impacts to her hull from affecting what was taking place on the operating table. Indeed, as long as the ship stayed generally in one piece, there would be no transient G-forces, no interruptions in power, not the slightest tremor.
“The captain wanted to make sure we planned on doing our best work with Admiral Naftur,” Chen said, shaking her head and smiling behind her surgical mask. “Hopefully I managed to get across how offensive that was without being too snippy.”
“I’m sure he meant well,” Turlaka replied. “Oh … hold … clamp right there, please.”
“I got it. I’m very happy you’re here, Doctor. I might have been able to pull this off alone, but …” Chen paused, breathing deeply. “I’m just very glad you’re here.”
“I can’t imagine I’d be anywhere else,” she chuckled, “but I’m more than a little rusty, as you can see. Please keep a close watch on what I’m doing.”
“Nonsense, you’re doing beautiful work. Unfortunately, there’s a lot of work here to do. I’m still not entirely happy with some of what I’m seeing,” Chen commented as she once again paused to allow the sterile field to be cleared of blood. “They have offered to acquire any additional equipment or help we might need, but I honestly don’t know of anything we don’t already have … can you think of anything?”
“Some music might help,” Turlaka replied, “but otherwise I agree. We should have everything we need.”
Nurse,” Chen announced, “please let the bridge know that Admiral Naftur is in surgery and stable, for the moment. I don’t believe we will require any additional equipment or assistance, but the procedure is likely to take a couple of hours.”
“Yes, Doctor,” the OR nurse replied as she turned to leave the room.
“AI, Chen. Please provide us with some Bach. The Brandenburg Concerto Number Three should do nicely.” The room was instantly filled with the sound of the London Symphony Orchestra. The music was reproduced with such astounding clarity that it actually caused her to pause momentarily. “Wow,” she remarked, “that sounds fantastic.”
“It’s perfect. Thank you,” Turlaka replied. “As to Captain Prescott’s comments, I have to admit to feeling a little of that sentiment myself. I can’t go into detail, so please don’t ask me to elaborate, but I don’t mind telling you that Rugali is a very dear and influential man. In fact, I think it’s safe to say that both of our worlds are relying heavily on him at the moment. We simply cannot allow ourselves to lose him.”
As the AI finished translating Doctor Turlaka’s last sentence, Doctor Chen glanced up to look her Wek colleague directly in the eyes. No pressure, though, she thought wryly.
Chapter 18
TFS Navajo
(Combat Information Center)
"Contact!" the young commander announced loudly from the holographic display in the center of the room.
For the past couple of hours, Admiral Patterson had been dividing his attention between ongoing preparations for the mission to Location Dagger and the rapidly evolving situation at Terran Fleet Command Headquarters. Since the successful comm beacon deployments near the Resistance rally point, his morning had deteriorated under the weight of a steady stream of bad news. What he dreaded hearing most, however, was the worst case scenario — the unexpected arrival of a large force of Resistance ships that would immediately shower the Earth with weapons of mass destruction before he had any hope of mounting a defense. On hearing the commander’s announcement, he rose quickly from his Command console and made his way back to the holo table.
“Just one, Commander?” Patterson asked anxiously.
“Yes, Admiral. Looks like a single, so far. The range is just over nine million kilometers — thirty light seconds or so. It popped up pretty close to one of our surveillance drones, so confidence in the data is high at this point. We should have video shortly …”
The display had quickly been reconfigured to provide an all-encompassing view of the battlespace surrounding the Navajo out to a distance roughly double that of the new contact. As usual, the admiral’s formation of Fleet assets in and near Earth orbit were displayed as blue icons designating them as friendly units. At Patterson’s insistence, the Guardian spacecraft, having still not proven itself as a “friendly” in his opinion, but also not openly hostile, was represented by a purple icon. Finally, the unknown contact — which the AI had now classified as a destroyer due to its size — was displayed with a yellow icon, which now flashed to indicate that a live video stream was available.
Leaning over the table, Patterson selected the new contact’s icon, and with a simple gesture indicated that he wished to see the video feed on one of the large view sc
reens nearby. What he saw, while not entirely unexpected, was of grave concern given the proximity of the Guardian spacecraft. Almost immediately thereafter, the Navajo’s AI came to the same conclusion as the admiral, updating the identifying text block displayed next to the contact and changing its icon to blue.
After a week-long journey at her maximum speed from Gliese 667, the Gresav had arrived in the Sol system.
TFS Theseus
(Initial climb to orbit)
With all her personnel back onboard, and having finally been cleared for departure by both Admiral Sexton and the two surgeons working diligently to save Admiral Naftur’s life in the medical bay, TFS Theseus rotated her bow silently to the east and began her first climb to orbit.
“All systems in the green, Captain. Both standard and C-Drive transitions are available. C-Jump range 99.3 light years and stable. Denver Air Route Traffic Control has cleared us for an unrestricted climb from our current location and we are clear of all traffic,” Dubashi reported from the Communications console, still adjusting to some extent to doing double duty as both comm officer and navigator.
“Thank you, Lieutenant,” Prescott replied. “Ensign Fisher, as usual, it’s your show. Please keep in mind what’s going on in Medical. In theory, what the ship is doing shouldn’t affect the operating room, but let’s do our best not to test those systems, if we can help it.”
“Aye, Captain. Standard climb underway. The AI has a number of pre-established performance profiles set up as part of our so-called ‘abbreviated shake-down cruise.’ This specific one isn’t all that aggressive, though. We will briefly achieve .002 c, but it shouldn’t cause a problem for the grav systems. ETA to our rendezvous with the Navajo is just under three minutes.”
“Understood. Discontinue immediately if we start to feel any lag in the dampeners.”
“Aye, sir. Will do.”
Since Admiral Naftur had been brought on board, an uncharacteristically somber mood had taken hold on Theseus’ bridge. Her first climb to orbit, which would normally have been a time of nervous excitement coupled with a fair amount of apprehension, instead took on an air of the routine. While still very much engaged in their work and performing their duties in expert fashion, the members of the bridge crew said little, each one a study in introspection as they dealt with the uncertainty of the situation in their own way.
“How do you expect Admiral Patterson will alter the mission to Location Dagger?” Reynolds finally asked, looking for anything to lighten the increasingly oppressive mood.
“I doubt he will change a thing,” Prescott said. “We may not have Admiral Naftur’s help, but Patterson is not one to tell his commanders precisely how they are supposed to accomplish a mission.”
“And the mission hasn’t really changed …”
“No, not really. He’ll expect us to attempt to make contact with the Resistance commander, if possible. If we don’t have Naftur available, which seems likely at this point, perhaps Ambassador Turlaka can fill that role. Failing that …”
“Failing that, we execute the ‘force’ component of our ‘reconnaissance in force.’”
“Maybe so, but I think the bottom line is that it’s going to be up to us to assess the situation and determine the best course of action based on what we find.”
“Contact,” Lieutenant Lau announced from Tactical 2. “Unknown contact, range: nine million kilometers. The AI is classifying it as a destroyer-size vessel.”
“Did our sensors pick it up, or are we getting it from the Fleet data feed?” Prescott asked.
“It’s about thirty light seconds out, so it’s an NRD surveillance drone contact so far, but I suspect our own sensors will pick it up shortly.”
“Ah, well, if it’s a surveillance drone contact, we should have video shortly.”
“Yes, sir, it’s coming in now,” Lau replied, opening a window on the right side of the view screen to display the video feed. The distinctive profile of the previously unidentified vessel was instantly recognizable to every member of the bridge crew.
“Sir, it’s the Gresav!” Lau reported, officially acknowledging what everyone had already seen for themselves.
It took only a few seconds more for both Prescott and Reynolds to realize the potential implications of the Wek ship’s arrival.
“This could be a big problem,” Reynolds said, immediately calling up a real-time feed of the Guardian spacecraft and placing it in a window next to the image of the Gresav.
“It could be. When we left the Gresav at Gliese 667, we had no reason to expect that the Guardian would have openly declared itself and be sitting in the immediate proximity of the Earth by the time they arrived. In fact, Admiral Naftur thought that having her transition relatively close to Earth and then join up with one of our cruisers was probably the safest bet for avoiding the Guardian’s attention. Surely it realizes that attacking without provocation won’t be particularly helpful for its PR campaign.”
“I’m not so sure about that, sir,” Reynolds replied. “One thing we do know is that thing is a master of propaganda. It would probably just pass it off as another example of how it continues to protect us from the evil alien hordes bent on our destruction. So if it does attack, how should we respond?”
Prescott stared thoughtfully at the screen for a moment without answering. “Lieutenant Lau, have we seen any movement or changes in emissions from the Guardian?”
“None whatsoever, sir, but unless it has broken our new crypto, it shouldn’t be getting any NRD data. As far as we know, that means we still have a few seconds before Gresav’s light reaches the Guardian’s location.”
Prescott scowled and shook his head, realizing that he had once again found himself in a difficult situation as a direct result of his relationship with the Wek admiral fighting for his life in Theseus’ med bay. It took him only a few seconds to make his decision, then quickly make the mental shift from deliberation to execution. “If it attacks without provocation, Commander Reynolds,” he replied resolutely, “we will do our best to defend the ship that defended us. Set General Quarters for combat ops. Dubashi, plot an intercept C-Jump to the Gresav. I don’t want to have to chase her down, so put us along her path without getting us into a collision.”
“Aye, sir,” both officers responded crisply.
“Sir, the Guardian is moving!” Lau reported excitedly. On the view screen, the Guardian rotated smoothly in the direction of the Gresav, engaged its sublight engines, and began to accelerate.
“Captain,” Lieutenant Dubashi reported. “The Navajo has been attempting to hail the Guardian spacecraft, but there has been no response. They are now trying the emergency Guard frequencies.”
“Let’s hear it,” Prescott ordered.
With a few quick keystrokes from Dubashi’s Communications console, the voice of Ensign Katy Fletcher aboard Admiral Patterson’s flagship blared from the bridge’s overhead speakers. “Guardian spacecraft, Guardian spacecraft, this is Terran Fleet Command flagship Navajo broadcasting in the blind on Guard. Stand down, stand down, stand down. Incoming spacecraft is a friendly unit. Do not engage. Repeat … incoming Wek vessel is a friendly. Stand down, hold your position, and do not engage.”
Prescott drew his hand across his throat, signaling Dubashi to terminate the audio broadcast.
“Intercept plotted and transferred to the Helm console,” she announced as relative silence returned to Theseus’ bridge.
“Alright, everyone, it doesn’t look like the Guardian is planning to transition to hyperspace, that could mean it’s using the situation to test our resolve more than to actually threaten the Gresav. I doubt either of our ships would put up much of a fight if it decides to attack, but we can at least force it to commit itself to open hostilities with TFC if we put ourselves between it and the Gresav. Let’s just hope that’s not something it is prepared to do.”
“Captain, all six reactors at one hundred percent, weapons charged, shield systems online, C-Jump range 99.3 lig
ht years and stable. The ship is at General Quarters for combat ops,” Reynolds reported.
“Very well. Ensign Fisher, after we transition, you may maneuver as required to put us between the Guardian and the Gresav. I want a one light-minute emergency C-Jump plotted at all times. Clear?”
“Yes, Captain. Ready.”
“Execute your C-Jump.”
Without delay, the AI’s synthetic voice began a ship-wide countdown. “Capacitive hyperdrive engaged, transition in 3 … 2 … 1 …”
In the center of the bridge view screen, waypoint brackets were displayed around the location of the distant Wek ship. As the hyperdrive engaged, there was no apparent change in the background stars, but the Earth and Moon slid quickly out of view on either side of the display as the AI provided a smooth representation of the instantaneous, nine-million-kilometer journey. The previous surveillance drone feed of the Gresav was automatically removed from the right side of the screen as a live, optical view of the actual ship quickly expanded to fill the center of the display.
“Transition complete, Captain. Securing from hyperspace flight,” Lieutenant Dubashi reported. “All systems in the green. Sublight engines online, we are free to maneuver. Both standard and C-Drive transitions are available. C-Jump range still 99.3 light years and stable. We are less than one meter from our expected arrival point.”
“Thank you, Dubashi. You may discontinue reporting hyperdrive availability and arrival point accuracy unless you see something unusual.”
“Guardian ship still accelerating, sir,” Lau reported from the Tactical 2 Console. “If it continues to do so at the current rate, its projected ETA is five minutes.”
“Thank you, Lieutenant Lau,” Prescott replied. “Dubashi, try hailing the Gresav with the new comm security protocols in place. Hopefully, the two AIs will manage to work out the encryption algorithm between them.”
“Aye, sir. Hailing.”
After a very brief delay during which the Theseus and Gresav easily established an encrypted channel and synchronized for real-time translation, the youthful-looking face of Wek Flag Captain Musa Jelani filled the center of the view screen. “Hello again, Captain Prescott and crew,” he smiled fiercely. “We had just detected the presence of the Pelaran spacecraft when your … rather aggressive-looking, I must say … warship transitioned nearby. I was very much relieved to see that it was you.”
