The Alpha Protocol: Alpha Protocol Book 1

by Duncan M. Hamilton

  He played through the recording one last time, watching carefully for anything he might have missed. He couldn’t see the ship doing anything unusual or unexpected. That it had weapons powerful enough to destroy Sidewinder so quickly was frightening, but there were hundreds of ships in naval service that could do the same. It was a dangerous assumption to presume that meant a naval frigate would be a match for the alien ship, however.

  There was so much he could not tell. For instance, he knew it had weapons systems, but there was nothing visible in the recording. There was nothing identifiable on the hull. The ship’s appearance spoke to soulless aggression. As he studied the shapes, he tried to decide if there was enough similarity in the style to what he had seen in the city for them to be connected. It occurred to him that if they were of the same race, then perhaps humankind had committed an affront by venturing into the city and looting it.

  That was an alarming thought. Humanity might have established a casus belli with an alien race before even knowing of their existence. How do you apologise to something that shoots at you on sight? This was why the Alpha Protocol was so draconian. First contact had to be managed in such a careful way. Now Samson worried that perhaps the horse had already bolted, and it was too late to close the stable door.

  He considered watching one more time, but knew there was nothing more his tired eyes would detect. The owners of the horseshoe ship could just as easily be a race with a similar interest in this mysterious ancient civilisation, but far more jealous about it. The ship didn’t display anything mind-bogglingly advanced. If a civilisation had the capability, that long ago, of building a city like the one he had seen, Samson reckoned their technology would have come a very long way since—far more advanced than anything displayed by the alien ship.

  At that moment it seemed that everything could be simplified a great deal more. Whatever they were, whoever they were, they were a threat. It was the Navy’s job to deal with that.

  Samson sat on the depot’s command deck watching the Peterson manoeuvre alongside the depot’s second airlock a day after their return from Dobson and the Oculus system. There had been no sign of the alien vessel continuing their pursuit. Samson could not stop himself from speculating as to why that might be, where it was now, or what it might be up to.

  The mysteries and possibilities presented by this alien aggressor had all but obscured the equally momentous discovery on Dobson. Scientists and archaeologists would be kept busy for generations with what lay beneath that sand and mud crust. As interesting as a long-extinct, sentient race was, a living one was so much more so. Who were they, where did they come from, and how many of them were there?

  ‘Peterson’s shore party is aboard,’ Harper said.

  When they’d returned to the depot, Samson had been exhausted and distracted, and had completely forgotten to have Harper placed back in the brig. It was careless, but it wasn’t in her interests to turn on him again. She knew Price and the Marines would stand against her, and that her best chance lay with doing her duty and hoping the court martial let her off with a discharge.

  ‘Thanks. I’ll head down to meet them and bring them to the briefing room.’

  He stood and stretched his stiff joints. Price and the other Marines were using the depot’s small gym every chance they got, and, inspired by how out of shape he had felt in his dash to eject the alien artefact, Samson had given it a try. Any doubts he may have had about how unfit he’d let himself become were well and truly banished.

  The Peterson’s personnel were already waiting inside the airlock by the time Samson got there.

  ‘I’m sorry there was no one to formally greet you,’ Samson said. ‘We’re pretty short-handed. I’m Acting Lieutenant Commander Jack Samson.’

  ‘Captain Bill Wright,’ said an athletic man with a thick head of salt-and-pepper hair. ‘These are Lieutenants Jones, Cooper, and Singh.’

  Samson saluted. ‘Welcome aboard, Captain Wright, Lieutenants. Feel free to take some downtime if you want. Otherwise, we can go to the briefing room and I’ll bring you up to speed.’

  ‘I think we’re all eager to hear first-hand what’s going on,’ Wright said.

  Samson nodded and led them to the briefing room. He gave a short presentation on all the sensor data they had accumulated, then talked them through his personal experience and his visit to the ruins on Dobson. He did his best not to colour the information with his personal thoughts and feelings; it was better to give as raw an account of what he had seen as he could, and allow them to make up their own minds.

  When Samson finished, Captain Wright leaned back in his chair and steepled his fingers. As Samson stood at the head of the meeting table, the time seemed to drag on for an eternity. He waited to discover if he was to be believed, or called a lunatic.

  ‘First things first,’ Wright said. ‘I think it would be foolhardy to return to the Oculus system before the Nautilus arrives. She’s only a couple of days behind us, and I’ll be mighty glad of the extra firepower if we find trouble. That ruin’s been out there a long time; I don’t think another few days is going to make a whole lot of difference.’

  ‘The appearance of this alien vessel may put a different time frame on things,’ Samson said. ‘As I said in my briefing, they seem particularly interested in any artefacts from the ruin.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Wright said. ‘I have some thoughts on that, and I’m concerned that humanity may have disturbed a site that’s important to these beings. Brought this whole thing on ourselves. However, judging by your briefing, the Peterson and the Bounty won’t be enough to face it down alone. Having the Nautilus here when we encounter the enemy puts us in a stronger position. As commendable a job as you’ve done rigging the Bounty for naval duty, you can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear. We’ll continue to use her as a support vessel for the Peterson and Nautilus until the Third Fleet arrives. She can be decommissioned after that, and the crew reassigned.’

  Samson found the remark surprisingly offensive. He hadn’t realised how attached to the little ship he had become—no doubt down to it being his first command. Nonetheless, it was not far from the truth. The Bounty would never be fit for proper naval service, and under any other circumstance would never have seen it. As saddening a thought as it was, considering the sterling service she had given, she was destined for the scrappers.

  ‘I’ll be happier still when Admiral Khaimov arrives with his squadron,’ Wright said. ‘But Pandora’s Box has been opened, and the realities of the situation may demand that we take more risks than I’d otherwise like. We need to be ready to seize any opportunities that come our way. They may not be offered up a second time.’

  ‘Understood, sir,’ Samson said.

  ‘You’ve done an exemplary job, Samson, and that won’t go unnoticed. Transmitting the sensor data the way you did was quick and selfless thinking in perilous circumstances. Don’t be surprised if you hear more about that in due course.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’ It had been quite some time since any aspect of Samson’s performance had been commended.

  ‘I understand you’ve had some problems with your crew.’

  Samson had made cursory mention of what had happened in his official report. His personal reports contained the finer details, but with everything else that had happened, it had gotten obscured by the maelstrom. This was the moment he had felt so certain of. Now that he was faced with it, the prospect of ending two men’s careers, and probably sending Harper to the firing squad, was far more daunting, and that certainty was harder to find.

  He took a deep breath. ‘There was a disagreement as to how we should proceed in the immediate aftermath of the Sidewinder’s destruction. I had to confine Lieutenant Harper, Engineer’s Mate Vachon, and Rating Kushnir to quarters for insubordination.’

  ‘That’s your entire naval crew,’ Wright said. ‘That sounds a lot like mutiny to me.’

  Samson hesitated. He was torn between anger at what Harper had done and the
realisation that if he agreed with Wright, she would be executed. He had known many men and women—officers driven by conscience—who’d met their ends in front of the firing squad after the Fifth Fleet mutiny.

  There was self-interest at play here too. If he condemned the Bounty’s crew to court martial, he would be removed from her command, and reassigned right away. He didn’t much like the idea of that.

  ‘I… The matter has been dealt with to my satisfaction,’ Samson said.

  Wright looked at him through narrowed eyes. ‘Very good. Moving on, then. The first question that I want your thoughts on,’ Wright said, ‘is what connection there is between this mystery alien ship and the ruins on Oculus 414-B. Have you seen anything to connect them?’

  ‘I can only speculate, sir,’ Samson said, ‘but to my mind they’re not the same species. Those ruins are old, millennia perhaps, and the construction suggests a pretty high level of tech. Significantly in advance of our own, I suspect. This hostile alien ship seems more advanced than anything we have, but not by a whole lot. That ancient civilisation would have had to stagnate completely, and possibly regress, for their tech not to be way beyond anything we can comprehend by now. I have to wonder if there might be something of great value down there, something these hostile aliens are looking for. Something they don’t want anyone else getting their hands on.’

  ‘Interesting theory,’ Wright said. ‘Still, I don’t think we can dismiss the idea that there may be a connection between the two just yet. Have you considered the possibility that the ship might be a human design no one’s seen before?’

  ‘I have, sir. If someone’s been taking tech out of that city for a few years, there’s no reason they couldn’t have built up a ship taking advantage of some of it. I think we should keep that possibility open going forward.’

  Wright nodded, and Samson reckoned he was taking those ideas on board.

  ‘The alien vessel has, in both instances, gone after objects that appear to have been created by an alien society,’ Wright said.

  Samson nodded, curious to see where Wright was going.

  ‘What if this place has some sort of sentimental significance for them? A religious site, or a mausoleum of some sort. What if we’re trespassing on ground they consider sacred?’

  ‘It’s a reasonable conclusion to draw on what we have so far, sir,’ Samson said, ‘and one I’d considered. I don’t think we can rule it out, but I hope it’s not the case. I don’t like the idea that we might have been trampling over another race’s beliefs, but it doesn’t excuse them destroying a patrol vessel without any dialogue. You can return looted artefacts, and apologise for offence caused through misunderstanding, but you can’t bring dead sailors back to life. If that theory holds up, their response was disproportionate. In my opinion, sir.’

  Wright let his focus drift out to the distance, then snapped back. ‘Well, one way or another, we’re going to have to get to the bottom of it all.’

  The depot’s intercom crackled to life with Harper’s voice. ‘Sir, we’ve received a distress signal from Dobson.’

  ‘Dobson?’ Wright said.

  ‘Oculus 414-B,’ Samson said.

  ‘Looks like our hand may have been forced,’ Wright said.

  24

  ‘I should have seen this coming,’ Samson said, as the viewscreen came to life. ‘I thought the alien ship was more likely to come after us than attack the population on Dobson. There’s no one living near the ruins anymore.’

  The signal was garbled and it was difficult to make out the person’s face and voice. Two things were clear, however: They were terrified, and they were under attack. Samson’s first instinct was to order everyone down to the Bounty and make all speed for Dobson, but it wasn’t his decision anymore. How quickly one became accustomed to the power of command…

  ‘How long ago was this sent?’ Samson said.

  ‘Hard to tell for certain, sir.’ Harper said. ‘There’s no time stamp, but it wasn’t sent through the Nexus, so it’s been several days at least.’

  ‘Just after we left the planet then,’ Samson said. The alien ship must have turned back for Dobson as soon as it had broken off pursuit of the Bounty.

  ‘I think it was to be expected,’ Wright said. ‘The Navy’s responded as quickly as we can. We can’t throw away the few resources we have out here on futile gestures. In any event, by the time we get there, whatever this was will be long finished. All there’ll be for us to do is pick over the remains, and the enemy may be waiting to ambush us. When we encounter this ship, it will be at a time and in circumstances of our choosing.’

  Samson felt torn. They might not be able to stop the attack on Dobson, but there were likely to be survivors and injured, all of whom would need help. To sit on their hands struck Samson as cowardly. Even with just the Bounty, he and the others had gone back into the Oculus system, willing to face whatever awaited them there. The Peterson was twice the ship the Sidewinder was, at least, yet her captain was unwilling to take the risk to help. That stuck in Samson’s craw.

  ‘Permission to take a volunteer crew to Dobson, sir,’ Samson said. ‘I can understand why you don’t want to risk the Peterson, but we might be able to save some of the colonists, and as you say, the Bounty isn’t an important asset out here.’

  ‘You know what you’re risking?’

  ‘I do,’ Samson said. ‘I’ve been there before, and gotten away from the alien vessel. We can try to sneak in under low power and pick up any survivors. There aren’t many colonists registered there.’ And Samson suspected there were far, far fewer than the official number now. ‘The Bounty should be able to manage.’

  ‘I’m not going to try to stop you if you’re determined to go, Lieutenant Commander,’ Wright said. ‘I’ll spread the word among my crew. If any of the medical personnel are willing to join you, they have my permission.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ‘Gather up what survivors you can and get back here fast,’ Wright said. ‘I’m sure I don’t need to tell you to avoid the alien vessel at all cost. If it comes down to a choice between the survival of your crew and that of the colonists, pick your crew.’

  ‘Understood.’

  Two of the Peterson’s physician’s assistants and two of her engineer’s mates had volunteered to join the Bounty on their rescue mission. It didn’t seem to be quite as popular a plan as Samson had thought. The prospect of facing down an alien vessel appeared to be more daunting to most than it was to Samson. He wondered if there was something strange about him in that.

  By the time they arrived in the Oculus system, Samson had formulated something of a plan. He’d been mulling over their encounters with the alien ship, and it had occurred to him they’d only shown interest in ships that were carrying artefacts from the alien ruins. Without any alien artefacts on board, he was hopeful the Bounty wouldn’t attract the attacker’s attention—if it was still in the system.

  To be on the safe side, they had rigged the Bounty to run on low power; she would be invisible to anything but the most focused of scans. There was a fine balance between racing to the colonists’ rescue and advertising to the alien aggressors that they were back for more of the same. He could only hope they would not be too late to help any survivors.

  ‘I want constant passive scanning once we’re in range of Dobson,’ Samson said, ‘but nothing that will give away our position.’

  ‘Aye,’ Harper replied.

  He watched Harper as she worked at her station, oblivious to his gaze. She’d been a model officer since he had given her a second chance. The fact that so few sailors aboard the Peterson had come forward to assist in the rescue mission made Samson think more on the state of mind that had motivated Harper and the others to turn against him. It had been a terrifying, unprecedented situation, one in which their odds of dying had seemed far higher than of surviving. Despite all that had happened, they had volunteered to join the mission without hesitation.

  He wondered if he wo
uld come to regret his decision to tell Captain Wright that the matter had been dealt with instead of declaring it a mutiny. Resentment still dwelled within him, and he knew he’d never be able to trust Harper again. What situation might make her question Samson’s orders again, and how would she respond?

  He realised this was not the type of officer he wanted to work with, and in not calling out the mutiny for what it was, he might be handing that danger on to some other commanding officer. Still, he thought how he had so very nearly ended up being charged with mutiny himself, and how he had responded to getting a second chance. Did everyone not deserve the opportunity to learn from their mistakes and do better when tested once again? He wasn’t sure what the answer to that was, or whether it could be sensibly applied to all people. In any case, the reprimand for insubordination he had brought up in front of Wright would go on their permanent records, and at the first sign of further trouble Navy justice would go hard against them.

  For now, however, he had greater problems to deal with.

  With nearly a full complement on deck, the bridge felt positively crowded. Harper manned the sensor and comms stations, while Price occupied the weapons station. Two of the Peterson’s engineers were manning the engine room, leaving Vachon to preside over the engine and power management station. Rating Kushnir was entrusted with the general ship’s systems station, meaning that if someone farted and the air filtration didn’t clear it quickly enough, it was his fault. There were other tasks for him to keep an eye on, but on a small and crowded bridge Samson ranked that one as a high priority.