As much as Carol loved the portrait and the intelligence of it that touched her heart, she joined the technical team that would investigate the battlefield. Ballard would manage Cordero and Este as they began the search for the roots of Beta Hydri society. They'd start at the portrait house, and see where that led them.
ISC Fleet HQ Intel Section
Ft. Eustis, VA
Tuesday, September 13, 2078, 0815 EDT
Frances Wilson looked up as a notification alert sounded on her workstation, alerting her to a new Time-Difference-Of-Arrival (TDOA) message location solution. She pulled the detailed information side-by-side on her screen as Don Curtis appeared in her doorway.
"Did you see it?"
"Just now."
"Where is it?"
Don walked around to stand behind Frances as she displayed the results. All four operating Sentinels had seen the same message, as had the four permanent monitoring stations. The Sentinels called in on schedule early Sunday, and the FleetIntel computer network crunched out the location.
"It's like one of those early ones we got back in June. Enemy Station is talking again, twenty-five light-years down south."
"When?"
"Uh, based on the intercept times and the location, the process back-calculates the transmission time to last Wednesday, September 7 at 0922 UTC."
"It's short, just two seconds."
"One point nine three, to be precise."
Kristin Hayes, a young former Air Force sergeant recently hired away from NSA, arrived, and joined the conversation. "That's maybe eight or nine from that facility." She sat across from Frances. "But if it was an HQ, wouldn't we expect to see more traffic? Seems like it's awfully quiet."
"We had several hits back in June. Now, it's back on the air. I don't know what any of that means," Don commented.
"What does this do for our location?"
Frances took the results from the eight previous transmissions and asked the computer to combine the data for a more refined location
"OK, computer says 8 hours zero minutes Right Ascension, minus 67 Declination, 25.2 light-years away."
"What's near there?" Kristin asked. Frances opened a new app and plugged in the estimated position of the enemy facility.
"Well, there's GL 687 and... oh shit."
"What?"
"Beta Hydri. Less than twelve light years."
Kristin agreed. "Oh, shit."
They looked at each other for a moment.
"I'll talk to Commander Peña," Frances said. "We may need to think about a recon."
"I was thinking more about Antares," Don said quietly.
"Yes, that, too."
Frances left her office and sat down with Elias Peña to brief him on what they had seen.
"This station, now that we've got a solid location, is only twelve light years from Beta Hydri."
"Still, a recon is a pretty big step, Frances," he worried, "Let me think about it."
"Yes, I understand. What about Antares?"
"We should let them know, but right now I'm not sure what we can say to them that would be useful."
"If you like, I can discuss that with Kristin and Don and get back to you."
"Sure, that would be fine."
As they were talking, Fiona Collins appeared at Peña's door. He looked up in surprise.
"Captain Collins?"
"Good morning, Commander. Do you have a minute or should I come back?"
Frances got out of her chair. "We're done here, Captain, he's all yours!"
Fiona waited for Frances to leave, then stepped into Peña's office and closed the door behind her.
Elias looked at the closed door and then back at Collins. "What's on your mind, Captain?"
Fiona looked uncomfortable. "Any word from Intrepid?"
"I think you know, Captain Collins, they're not calling in."
"I know, but —"
"You're worried for some reason?"
"Actually, I think I might be worried for no reason, but I'm still worried."
Peña nodded his understanding, "Joanne."
"And Ben."
"Well, Captain, I can say this much; the Sentinels are calling in as expected, right on schedule."
"Well, that's something, anyway. Seen any results yet?"
Peña smiled. "Funny you should ask. Frances and I were just discussing the latest intercept. That facility down south?"
"Enemy Station?"
"Correct. Enemy Station sent a message last Wednesday. That makes eight, and with more points of reference, we're getting a progressively better location on it. I was going to come to see you later today. As Frances just pointed out, it's only twelve light-years from Beta Hydri."
"You thinking about paying a visit?"
"Just a little peek, nothing lethal."
Fiona smiled. With her nagging fear about Intrepid set to rest for the moment, she could focus better on what Peña was thinking.
"OK, so, let's get with Ops and see what's available."
"That would be fine, Captain, thanks."
"I didn't mean later." She pulled out her phone and pounded out the number for Operations. "Good morning, Commander Rhodes. Does Admiral Cook have some time for me?"
She did, so Fiona and Elias walked down the dark hall and up the two flights to the Operations section, their footsteps on the hard tile floor echoing around them. As they entered, Mark Rhodes waved them on into Cook's office.
"Good morning, Elias. So, what's on your mind, Fiona?"
"Intel feels they've got a good location on Enemy Station."
"Yes?"
Elias nodded. "We'd like a recon, ma'am. Just a look."
"Why the sudden rush?"
"Well, not so sudden, Admiral. We've been discussing it for a while. But, with this latest location, we now know it's awfully close to Beta Hydri. Given what happened there, we feel it's worth checking out."
Patty Cook leaned back in her chair, thinking. Then she leaned forward and called out, "Hey, Rhodes, get your ass in here."
Fiona, surprised by Cook's volume and language, waited for Mark Rhodes to enter the office and sit down. As he did, Fiona realized that his oak leaves had changed color from gold to silver.
"Yes, Admiral?"
"How would Chaffee like a field trip?" The whole picture now made sense to Fiona. Rhodes had been promoted to full Commander and was taking command of Chaffee.
"Congratulations, Mark."
"Thanks, Captain. Just happened this morning."
Well, at least Fiona hadn't been missing it for long.
Rhodes turned back to Cook.
"Where did you have in mind?"
"Enemy Station."
Rhodes shifted in his chair, surprised. He'd read the intel reports; he already knew what she was talking about and where they thought it was. "That's a long way, Admiral. Almost fifty days round trip."
"It is."
"What exactly is the mission?"
Elias spoke, "Just surveillance. Go find it, image it, see what goes on around it, get back."
"Sounds interesting."
"When do you take command?" Fiona asked.
"Tomorrow."
"Wow, that's quick."
"Yeah, current Captain turned up with osteosarcoma, so they needed to get him back and get someone else aboard. XO is just about due to rotate off."
"And here you were?"
"Something like that, I guess. I think Admiral Cook is just tired of me."
"Yeah, not." Cook looked at her tablet, then back across at the officers seated opposite her. "Commander Rhodes, your last assignment from me is to cut an order for Chaffee to recon Enemy Station. Let's send them, that is, you, oh, next Wednesday, September 21st. That will give you a chance to settle in and the crew a little off time. Expect a week of surveillance and then right back here."
"As you say, Admiral."
"Thank you all." Cook had a way of telling you she was finished with you without making you feel like you'd b
een dismissed. Tact, they call it. The three officers rose and left the inner office.
As they left the Operations Section, Elias turned to Fiona.
"Thanks, Captain Collins, I appreciate your help."
"You're welcome, not that you really needed me. Cook would have gone for it."
"She doesn't know me like she does you and Harris."
"Elias, you're doing great. The Senior staff knows it. Just keep it up."
"Thanks, Captain Collins. That means a lot."
They walked the rest of the way back to their sections in silence, then Elias gave the good news to his TDOA team.
Columbia
Kapteyn Station
Tuesday, September 13, 2078, 1150 UTC
Columbia slipped into dock at Kapteyn just before noon. Once she was secure, Dan Smith pulled David aside, and they headed out for The Corner Bar. Dan dropped into the same booth where he and Carol had talked several months before.
"Right here, pal, right here, is where I saved your ass," Dan said with a laugh, pointing to the table.
"And don't think I don't know it. Or that you'll be reminding me the rest of my life!"
"Maybe not quite that long, we'll see." They ordered pizza but no beers. There was still work to do on board, and Scranton was due at any time. They both knew it would not pay to greet her smelling like a brewery.
"So, when does Antares get there?"
"Not for a while, like October 4th or something. They had to go to Inor first. Carol's going to have a lot of work to do out there."
"Yeah, they all will, I think. Did you see the portrait?"
David nodded. "It was in the last Intel update before we left. Amazing thing to see. But, I'm more interested in the battlefield."
"Really?"
"Yeah. I'd want to know what they were defending and why. There's something there about what kind of a culture it was, I think."
"And maybe about what kind of enemy we're up against."
"Agreed."
The pizza arrived, and they ate in silence for a few minutes, David thinking about Carol and his other former classmates.
"So, is Larry still on Intrepid?" he finally asked.
"Yeah, Nav. You know Henderson fired Court, right?"
"Carol told me. She showed me the SLIP he sent her right after Henderson took over."
"Shithead had it coming," Dan said quietly, with no small dose of disgust.
"For sure. Carol tried to help him, but some people, you know, they just don't get it."
"Hard to help someone who already knows everything about everything but actually nothing about anything."
David laughed. "Good description."
"Where are they, anyhow?"
Dan shook his head. "Not here. I can tell you later."
They finished their lunch with talk of other friends and where they were, what had happened, where they might go next. Dan paid the check, and they headed back for the ship.
The hard-looking Lieutenant Commander left the fleet shuttle much as she had arrived, pulling a small case behind her. There was no farewell, goodbye, thanks-for-the-lift, or whatever. She just quickly packed up and left. Ensign Compton watched her leave and then slipped back into the cockpit, where Lieutenant Small and Warrant Officer Cardenas were doing the final post-docking shutdown checklist.
"Ice queen gone?" Cardenas asked sarcastically.
Compton looked at her. "Yes, Cardenas, Commander Scranton has departed. You know, you could show a little respect."
"Militarily, yes, sir, I do. Personally, not so much."
"She was all work the whole trip," Lieutenant Janine Small said without looking up. "I don't know that I ever saw her just sitting or watching a movie or whatever. She worked, she ate, she slept."
"And really, not much sleep the last few days," Compton added.
"She's headed for Columbia," Small said thoughtfully. "I need to find Dan Smith."
"Worried she'll burn herself out?"
"Yup."
Cardenas looked from one officer to the others, incredulous. "You're worried about that rude, thoughtless, pain in the ass?"
"Well, sure. She's got a mission to do, Cardenas. Don't forget that shitload of equipment we brought for her." Small ticked off three items on the checklist as she closed a small access panel next to her seat. "Something's up, something significant, and she's in the middle of it. Whatever it is, we all want her to succeed, right?"
She finished the checklist, handed the tablet to Compton, and walked off the shuttle.
As David and Dan turned into the corridor to Columbia's docking port, they found themselves following a thin, blonde Lieutenant Commander. Dan looked across her to see that Mike Clark, his Weapons Maintenance Officer, was minding the access hatch.
Mike saw Dan and David coming, but since they made no effort to overtake the woman, he focused on her instead.
"Good afternoon, Commander," he said pleasantly.
"I need to see Smith," she said bluntly. When Dan didn't respond, Mike figured he was to play along. He had no idea what was up but assumed Dan knew what he was doing.
"And you are?" Mike asked respectfully.
"Scranton. Is this Columbia or not? Smith is supposed to be here." Her rough attitude surprised Mike. Most Fleet officers knew to be polite, at least, when speaking to others, whether senior or junior. It was an essential part of Fleet culture.
"Yes, ma'am, this is Columbia. It's the Captain that you're looking for?"
"Of course. Where is he?"
Dan finally stepped forward. "Hello, Commander Scranton, I'm Dan Smith." He left off the usual 'glad to meet you' because, well, he wasn't, at least not so far.
She turned to him abruptly, apparently surprised.
"It's Doctor Scranton."
In a glance, Dan took in her severe features, the dark circles under dull gray eyes, somewhat hollowed cheeks, the drawn, exhausted expression of her face. Was it fatigue, he wondered, or something else?
"How may I assist you, Doctor?" he asked her carefully.
"Well, I need to get my equipment off that damn shuttle and over here into your sickbay. I'll need my own place to work, and —"
"Commander Scranton," Dan interrupted her, "we are aware of your requirements, and we're working on them." He looked over at Mike. "Where do we have the Commander assigned, Lieutenant Clark?"
"Second surgeon's quarters, sir, right off the sickbay."
That was exactly what Scranton wanted, but she made no sign of it nor any indication that she appreciated the gesture.
"Good. Let's get a med tech up here to escort the Commander —"
"I can find my way, Mr. Smith." Dan looked at her for several long seconds.
"That's Captain Smith, Commander. And I will thank you to treat my officers with the same respect and consideration you yourself deserve." When she didn't respond, he continued. "Do I make myself clear, Commander Scranton?"
"Yes, Captain, you do. I just —"
"Very well, then. You have permission to board and find your quarters. Our ship's physician, Doctor Gerry Knight, is expecting you. Lieutenant Clark will advise when your equipment arrives so you can check its condition before we load it on the ship. Please prepare a briefing on your project for Intel, the XO, and myself. 1400 today."
"Yes, Commander, I should —"
"Proceed, Commander Scranton." She looked at him briefly, started to speak again, then seemed to change her mind. She walked through the airlock and turned in the direction of the sick bay.
"What the hell?" Clark asked. Dan turned to David.
"Go find the shuttle pilot, Lieutenant Small —"
"Janine Small?"
"Yes."
David smiled. "She'll be in the bar."
Mike agreed, "Or crashed in the hotel, yeah."
"And when I find her?"
"Ask her what Scranton was like on the way out."
"You mean other than rude and abusive?" Clark asked.
"I don't think t
his is just arrogance, Mike. Her whole demeanor is off. She looks like she hasn't slept in weeks. David, go talk to Small."
"Dan!" came a voice from behind him. Dan turned around to see that Janine Small had not waited to be found.
"Holy shit!" she cried in surprise, "It's David freaking Powell!" They shook hands briefly before she turned back to Smith.
"We need to talk."
"Scranton?"
"Yes."
"Good, I was just about to send David bar-hopping to find you."
"Oh, Smith," she said, sliding an arm around him. "You know me all too well!" They walked far enough down the corridor that Clark and Powell could not hear, but the concern was obvious on Janine's face. David decided to get back to his own work and leave the management of one unpleasant lady doctor to the experts.
The three flatbed carts of equipment arrived at 1315. Scranton pronounced them acceptable, and the med techs unloaded them into OR #2.
As the ship's ubiquitous digital clocks clicked over to 1400, David entered the Intel conference room. Katch, Dan Smith, and Alona Melville were already there. David took a second to study Scranton. She carried a spare, hard frame and, if possible, even harder features. She stood at the digital erasable board at the front of the small room and waited. She greeted no one as they entered.
Once David sat down, Dan looked up from his tablet. "We're all here, Commander Scranton. You may proceed."
"Thank you, Captain," she said, in what so far seemed a rare moment of manners. "The purpose of this trip, in short, is to find some enemy remains for DNA and anatomic study."
There was a palpable silence. Smith reacted first. "You want body parts?"
"Yes."
Powell sat back in his chair, trying very hard not to roll his eyes.
She tapped her fingers nervously on her leg for a second.
"Part of our problem with this enemy is our complete lack of information about them. We have no insight into their behavior. They don't signal. They don't demand. They just attack. Maybe if we knew better what they are, we would be better able to cope with them."
Powell leaned forward, "Or, devise better weapons to kill them."
Scranton nodded, "Yes, that too."
Smith looked at her for a moment. "Assuming we can find anything, how will you decide what they are?"
"That's what the equipment I brought with me is for. I have a DNA analyzer with a reference database of species-specific DNA patterns. I also have an electron microscope and some additional small instruments."
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