The Alpha Protocol: Alpha Protocol Book 1

by Duncan M. Hamilton

  ‘Needless to say, they’re taking this all very seriously. The act of destruction aside, I’ve informed them about the objects.’

  There were some murmurs among the crew.

  ‘I’m afraid I didn’t have time to get into your transfer to the Navy and promotion, Lieutenant Price. I fear your naval career might be short-lived, however.’

  Price and the other Marines chuckled.

  ‘I’ll be speaking with Command again in one hour, once they’ve had a chance to give our data a preliminary review. I’ll keep you all updated.’

  17

  Samson sat back down in the command centre and waited for the appointed time. He was nervous. If Commodore Iyabo chose to invoke the Alpha Protocol, Samson was going to be on the hook. Even if the objects were what they had seemed to be, even if the warship was an alien vessel, if neither were ever encountered again there would be nothing but his word and a set of falsifiable sensor data.

  Samson powered up the Nexus Relay, and logged in. Commodore Iyabo appeared on screen an instant after the ‘successful connection’ message flashed. No waiting around this time, Samson thought. He could see people moving around in the background—far more activity than there had been during his last conversation with the commodore. There was a sense of tense energy in the scene before him—it was an entirely different place than the sleepy monitoring station it had appeared in their first communication.

  ‘Lieutenant, I’ll cut right to the chase. I’m officially invoking the Alpha Protocol. I’m transmitting the written orders now. As senior officer on station, I task you with protecting all human assets, investigating all incidents of suspected alien presence, and securing all artefacts suspected to be of non-human origin within the sphere of your duty area. You are weapons free on any civilian who interferes with or otherwise obstructs you in carrying out your duties.’

  Samson nodded. It seemed like an overwhelming task when read out to him, and a brutal amount of power, but it was a word-for-word reading of one of the Alpha Protocol’s many sections. Surely in reality, there was only so much that could be expected of him. The drafters of the protocol had probably envisaged the senior officer on station as having a small flotilla, at least, at their disposal.

  ‘I understand, sir. I’ll do my best.’

  ‘Our analysis of your data indicates the objects you found are definitely not of human origin. The sensor traces of the other vessel seem to indicate the same. I know you haven’t got much to work with, but by the time the Peterson gets to you any trace of this mysterious warship will be gone. We need you to get back out there and gather as much data as you can, while it’s still there.’

  ‘The Bount—’ Samson began.

  ‘Will be a more than adequate patrol vessel with one or two software and hardware upgrades, which can easily be carried out in the Capsilan Depot’s hangar bay. It has a full suite of refit drones, and an Ager Dynamics Utility Vessel, even one as old as the Bounty, has plenty of generic mounts that will accept modern naval units.’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘It is very possible that there are other interested parties from our species operating in your sector, and they are just as much a threat as an alien hostile. We need to scare them off. Make sure they know the Navy is on the scent now.’

  If it was pirates or smugglers, and they had the capability to destroy the Sidewinder, Samson didn’t know what the Bounty would be able to do, but it wasn’t his place to comment.

  ‘I’m not sending you out with the intention of getting killed,’ Iyabo said, as if picking up on Samson’s misgivings. ‘All we want is for you to keep watch. Gather as much intel as you can. Let us hit the ground running when the relief ships arrive.’

  ‘I understand, sir.’ He wondered if now would be a good time to mention that all of his sailors had mutinied, and one of them remained under arrest.

  ‘Good. There might be serious players involved out there with you. There’s a list to choose from as long as my arm. The Ophiuchan Separatists are still operating behind the scenes; the Cruxian Autonomy Movement is growing fast, and there are a half-dozen others, not to mention corporations or crime syndicates.’

  Samson grimaced. It was a list of groups he’d much rather not get tangled up with. Even in the Sol system, there were people saying the Union was too big and should be broken up into a federation of semi-autonomous constellations. Some took it farther than that, forming groups whose commitments to the cause ranged from political lobbying to terrorism and outright rebellion, as in the case of the Separatist Wars, which had ended nearly a hundred years earlier but remained fixed in the pantheon of fears the Navy had. If any one of those groups got hold of advanced alien technology, it could easily upset the power dynamic in the Core. He supposed the best that could be said about facing aliens or human criminals was, ‘Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t.’

  ‘We need to make very sure the Navy keeps this buttoned down,’ Iyabo said. ‘Even if that orb you found was nothing more than a decorative light fitting, being the first to claim contact and being able to back it up with physical evidence will bring a hell of a lot of prestige. If it isn’t us, people will ask questions, and lose confidence. This is the most exciting thing to happen to mankind, and potentially the biggest threat the Union has faced.’

  ‘I understand what a big deal this is, sir,’ Samson said.

  Iyabo nodded slowly. ‘Good. Although the Peterson and the Nautilus will be with you first, the Third Fleet, under Admiral Khaimov in the Warspite, is also being readied for dispatch to Capsilan. I expect your region of Frontier space is going to get very crowded over the next few months.’

  ‘Sounds like it, sir.’

  Iyabo took a breath, and his demeanour softened. ‘What condition is the ship you commandeered in?’

  ‘Not the best, sir. We’ve been touch and go with her, but she’s seen us through so far.’

  ‘I’m sorry to have to send you out in her again,’ Iyabo said. ‘But we need ships in the water on this, and you’re the only one we have right now. The hangar drones should be able to knock her into better shape in a couple of days.’

  ‘I hope so, sir,’ Samson said. He wanted to say that if they encountered the hostile vessel again, they’d be good for little more than target practice no matter how many upgrades they’d made—but that really wasn’t the Navy way, and certainly not the impression he wanted to give the commodore.

  ‘It’s not ideal, Lieutenant, but we have to work with what we’ve got. I’ve had a look at the depot’s stores. There are two replacement Gauss gun modules that could be retrofitted to generic hard points on the Ager Dynamics Utility Vessels. There are replacement comms and sensor systems, and backup power modules and reserve banks that can also be fitted. With the depot’s drones and a bit of sweat, you can turn the Bounty into something you can use in short order. She won’t have much armour, but she’ll have teeth and the power to use them. What do you want to call her?’

  Samson shrugged absent-mindedly, then sat straighter in his seat, hoping Iyabo hadn’t noticed. ‘We’ve been calling her the Bounty, sir.’

  ‘Not the most auspicious of names, but it’ll do. I’m giving her temporary designation as TUS Bounty. You will upgrade her as directed and as you feel necessary to successfully carry out your command, then proceed with all haste back to the site of the destruction of TUS Sidewinder, and commence an investigation of the area, to include the alleged hostile vessel and any trace of non-human artefacts. I’m transmitting written orders. I’ve also had an acting field promotion authorised to raise you to lieutenant commander. Play your cards right and it will be made permanent. This could be a major stroke of luck for your career, if you don’t mess up. You have your orders, Lieutenant Commander.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘You’ll be contacted by the Peterson when she reaches the depot. She’s commanded by Captain Bill Wright. You’ll transfer to his command when she does, until such time as the Warspite
arrives and Rear Admiral Khaimov takes full command of the sector.’

  ‘Aye, sir.’

  ‘Good luck. Frontier Command out.’

  Samson slumped back in the chair. Lieutenant commander. He certainly hadn’t seen that coming. He’d thought their problems were over, but it seemed their real work was only just beginning.

  Samson returned to the mess hall, where the idle time had clearly taken its toll on his little crew. With nothing to do but think of the loss of all their comrades, not to mention the psychological impact of being among the first to encounter signs of alien life in the universe, they had grown quiet and sullen.

  Hard work was the only solution available to Samson, and he now had plenty of that to put them to before their spirits could sink any deeper.

  ‘I’ve received new orders from Frontier Command,’ Samson said. ‘Alpha Protocol has been invoked.’ He looked around, and from the reaction, he could see everyone there knew what that meant.

  ‘We’re to use whatever resources the depot has,’ he continued, ‘to make the Bounty as mission-ready as possible to investigate the destruction of the Sidewinder and the unidentified objects found on the Bounty. That means we’ve got some work to do, including but not limited to upgrading comms, sensors, power cells, and mounting the two Gauss guns that Command informs me are in the depot’s stores. In addition, I want the hull reinforced wherever possible—over crew areas in particular—and any other modifications or improvements you feel will contribute to making her mission effective.

  ‘The Bounty has plenty of cargo space that we don’t need, so let’s use it to power her up and put some teeth on her. After that, we’re to make all speed for the Oculus system and patrol until we are relieved by the Peterson. Command has made it very clear to me how seriously they are taking this, and right now we are on point. Any questions?’

  ‘How long do we have to make the modifications?’ Vachon said.

  ‘I want to be underway in forty-eight hours,’ Samson said. ‘I think that’s as long as we can afford to delay.’

  ‘In that case, I think we should try to get the Bounty into dry dock in the hangar bay. The drones will work faster in a pressurised environment, and we will too.’

  ‘Agreed,’ Samson said. ‘I’ve also been promoted to acting lieutenant commander. Lieutenant Price,’ he said, stretching a smile across his face in the hope of lightening the mood, ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve still no word on your promotion.’

  Price chuckled, but that was all Samson got. Perhaps the joke was getting old. ‘Harper is to remain incarcerated on the depot. I will bring the Bounty into the depot’s cargo bay. Mister Vachon, you’re the engineering specialist. Other than any guidance on mission requirements you need from me, you can consider yourself in charge of the refit for the next forty-eight hours. We’re all going to have to get our hands dirty to make this happen, so you let us know what you need done, and we’ll do it.

  ‘Additionally, the Bounty has been given naval designation. She’s now the TUS Bounty. Everyone clear?’

  There was a resounding ‘aye’ from everyone there. It was amazing what a project and a deadline could do for focus.

  18

  Samson watched the edges of the hangar bay opening; it seemed perilously small as he got closer. The Bounty squeezed in with only centimetres to spare on either side. He impressed himself with the precision of his piloting. Because the Bounty was so large, and so close to the cargo bay door’s dimensions, the depot’s tractor magnet refused to play along, with its safety limits preventing its use. Thus they had to do it the old-fashioned way. Still, he thought, all’s well that ends well. It would have been embarrassing if his first act as a lieutenant commander had been to crash the ship into the depot.

  Once satisfied that she was safely in, he shut the outer doors, then pressurised the hangar bay. He could see gas blasting from the vents along the wall, and watched the flashing red indicator light until it finally turned a solid green. As soon as everything was showing as normal, he got out of the Bounty and took the opportunity to give the hull a good look over.

  All things considered, the Bounty wasn’t in too bad a state. The Ager Dynamic ships were built to last, and that sturdy construction had paid dividends. The paintwork was scorched, scratched, and worn away in all the expected places from regular atmospheric entries, and there were signs of micro impacts along the hull, but none of them were dangerous, and all could be easily filled in a few hours with a welding torch.

  His initial inspection done, he walked along the hull considering where the Bounty would benefit from some extra armour plating, and looking for hard points where the Gauss guns could be most effectively mounted.

  He brought up the depot’s manifest on his datapad and made a note of anything that he thought might come in useful. It was intended to house enough spares to allow the Sidewinder or her replacement ship to stay out on the Frontier for thirty-six months at a time before having to return to a proper naval dock for an overhaul. For an engineer, it must have been like being allowed into a treasure trove. The Bounty was a blank canvas, and Samson was curious to see what they could make of her.

  He had heard of ships of the Bounty’s design—which was intended to be generic and suitable for multiple roles—being used as everything from small-scale miners to exploration ships, militia gun boats, armed smugglers, and stripped-down cargo ships. The reliability and sturdiness of the design was confirmed by the fact that Bounty’s logs confirmed she was approaching her centenary. Had she been better looked after, his concerns would be far fewer, but he hoped the forty-eight hours he had allowed for the refit would make a significant difference.

  The first order of business was to repair any hull damage and give the ship a good cleaning. Rating Kushnir was waiting in the wings to get started with that, aided by every repair and maintenance drone the station possessed. After that they’d reinforce the plating surrounding critical systems and compartments, and mount the guns. Then it would be on to the insides—an overhaul of the engines and power plant to make sure they could run all the new systems at optimum levels. After that, computer upgrades, then maintenance, repairs, and replacements of all the other systems that might be putting more strain on the power plant than was necessary.

  Vachon was busy programming the depot’s service drones. It was rare that so many would be re-tasked at one time, so it took him a while to complete, with them lifting out of their storage racks at the side of the hangar bay one by one and hovering over to the ship to begin on their new assignments. They carried out a detailed scan of the hull, then set about their work, sealing cracks and mending micro-meteor damage while Kushnir scrambled about with a high-pressure washer.

  If the Bounty was to carry a naval designation, Samson wanted her to look the part. The drones could complete a full hull repaint in only a couple of hours, and Samson tried to picture what the beige and rust-streaked Bounty would look like with a fresh coat of dreadnought grey. It would certainly be an improvement.

  With ship’s controls transferred to the depot’s systems, Samson was able to move to the hangar’s control bay and open the Bounty’s cargo hold doors remotely. He moved a boarding gantry and freight elevator up to it, which would allow them to get all of the internal components inside. After that, it was time to make good on his promise that they would all get their hands dirty.

  Most of the tasks on the ship’s exterior could be completed by the drones and the various other automated cranes and gantries in the hangar bay, but the station lacked the specialist robot units for the interior work that Samson had planned.

  Samson’s first task was to switch out the reaction matter for some from the depot’s stores. The matter he had bought from Sirion Bates had done its job, but Samson didn’t trust it enough to rely on it for venturing out into deep space. The fuel at the depot was all naval grade, and would guarantee reliable performance. While he was at it, he reckoned replacing the containment magnets was a good idea. That would allow
him to use a larger piece of reaction matter, giving them a higher output. Gauss guns were thirsty beasts, and charging one shot would likely cause a blackout given the current state of things. To fire two of them at an effective rate would need a lot more power than the Bounty could currently provide, but there was no reason the little ship couldn’t manage it with a few upgrades.

  Recalling the somewhat ‘ripe’ smell that had persisted on the Bounty, he added replacing all the air recycling filters and processors to his list. Simply getting the air filtration upgraded wasn’t going to get the smell out of the ship, though. From his datapad, he tasked the Marines with pulling out every perishable item—from fabrics to foam fillers and unrecycled waste. It would all be processed in the depot’s system, and fresh replacements fabricated. The command chair on the bridge also needed a new lease on life if he was going to spend a lot more time in it. While they were at it, he wondered what more could be done about the faded and stained interior panelling, now so starkly contrasted against the depot’s. He’d have to ask Vachon if one of the drones could be tasked to refinish it.

  The noise of work that filled both the ship and the hangar was satisfying. They were no longer doing whatever they could to get to safety—they were taking matters into their own hands so they could act, rather than react.

  He did a survey of all the stations of the bridge—of which they could only realistically man three—and decided on what should be replaced and what should be left to save on the human labour that would be required there. As it was, he would need two Vachons to get everything done in time.