“What?” the voices of her three friends asked in unison.
Maria smiled a knowing smile! “Each of the clusters of star systems provides a two-dimensional reference to these star system in relation to each other! The smaller the size of a star system, the further it is from the largest…or primary…star system in that particular image! We have vertical and horizontal references and some depth references which we might be able to program our astrometrics system to cross reference and give us specific coordinates to these systems!”
The navigator’s fingers flew across the keyboard in front of her. When her new program was complete, Maria punched the activation button and sat back. One monitor showed a rapid succession of images, schematics of the star system maps from the Dr. Caulders e-mail images being compared to other star system schematics from the Fleet galactic database in Camadin Station’s computers.
“How long will this take?” Ellie Rai asked.
Maria shrugged her shoulders and answered, “I don’t know…there are a lot of star systems in this galaxy, billions of ‘em, hundreds of billions! I set up this program to use three-dimensional representations of the systems in relationship to one another on one Proge image at a time. Hours? Day? Weeks? Months? Your guess is as good as mine!”
An hour later, Ian looked up at the monitor. “Well, well…the universal translator is doing a bloody good job on its comparison of the Proge text. There’s definitely a connection between the two! It’s already identified 43 common symbols between each of your father’s images. It is running a scan of the sequencing of the characters in comparison to the stories your father included in each e-mail to determine possible corollaries to English. Sorry, Ellie, the same answer serves us for this question. There’s no telling precisely when the computer will decipher this language.”
Jarrod, who had taken a seat, leaned forward in his chair. “Well, if that’s the case then we need to arrange for more computing time and either more time off duty to work this problem or some way to turn this into a duty assignment and clear any future responsibilities before they interfere.”
“How will you arrange that?” Ellie Rai asked.
“Well,” Jarrod began, “I think we need to put together a briefing then we’ll need to speak with Commodore Rivers!”
“How the bloody ‘ell do you plan to arrange that?” Ian Abercrombie Huntington-Smythe asked.
Jarrod smiled and answered, “First, we’ll put together a rock solid presentation! Then I’ll enlist a little help from the right people, namely Commander Bradley and maybe Dr. Rivers! With their help, I should be able to convince the Commodore to let us continue with this project! So let’s get started on that presentation and let the computers continue to do their job.”
The four officers set about organizing the raw data into a concise audio-visual presentation. With the basic presentation prepared, they checked the lab’s computers then adjourned for a quick lunch. A half hour later, they were back in the lab, working on the draft of their presentation. They spent two more hours on it, trimming a little here and adding a little there.
At one point, Jarrod let his team continue their work while he stepped into another room. Once there, he pulled out his comm-unit and contacted Commander Mac Bradley, his old friend and the station’s chief of security. When Bradley answered, Jarrod said, “Afternoon, Mac! I haven’t called at a bad time, have I?”
Bradley responded promptly, “Nope! Just the usual hectic type of day we have here on Camadin Station. What’s up?”
Bradley knew of the Proge and the stories of their advanced technology, so Jarrod quickly outlined what his father had sent him and what he and his friends were trying to do. He then explained what they had been able to learn thus far.
“So, you think you may be close to discovering what? The Proge homeworld?” Bradley asked.
“Until his recent expedition, Dad never sought nor received Federation or Fleet assistance in his search for the Proge. In fact, they actively tried to discourage him for many years. The information he sent to me through Fleet channels is what we’re using along with other data and techniques that my father wouldn’t have access to. Unless someone in the government or the Fleet have been conducting their own search using Dad’s published work, the odds are we’re closer than they would be,” Jarrod stated.
“So, how can I help you?” the security chief asked.
Jarrod chuckled. “Well, first by looking over our presentation and helping us fine tune it. Second, you could recommend who else we show it to,” he said. He paused then added, “Perhaps get us an appointment to speak with the commodore?”
It was Bradley’s turn to chuckle. “I kinda figured that’s where you were heading with this. And…rightfully so. If you could find the Proge homeworld or one of their military bases, maybe we can discover some advanced weapons technology to use against the Azairi. At the very least, it might prove to be a viable fallback position if the war continues to go sour on us.”
“What’s the latest word?” Jarrod asked his old friend.
Bradley’s normally smiling face turned gloomy. “Not good. The Azairi have slowed their advance. We think they’re consolidating their positions on conquered Federation worlds…but they’re still heading this way. We may have several weeks or several months…it all depends on how long they spend regrouping.”
“Damn!” Jarrod said. “We don’t know how long our deciphering programs will take. Hopefully, not that long.” He paused then continued, “So, think you can spare an hour to look over our presentation and give us some feedback?”
“Yeah,” Bradley began, “I can spare some time, if this is as important as you and I think it is. I’ll be there in about an hour.” Jarrod told Bradley where to find him, signed off, and returned to his friends to tell them of his conversation with Bradley. The team spent the time remaining until Bradley arrived to tweak their presentation with the most current data they could gather in such a short time.
Bradley arrived right on time. Once Bradley was seated, Jarrod and the others dimmed the lights in the lab and activated the three dimensional projectors, starting the presentation. Bradley sat through it quietly, watching and listening intently. When the presentation ended approximately 30 minutes later, Bradley asked a few questions then suggested a couple of minor changes. Jarrod’s team made the changes then asked Bradley what he recommended they should do next.
Instead of answering them, Bradley excused himself and left the lab. Waiting for his return, the foursome returned their computer programs to see how they were progressing. Not surprisingly, nothing new had been discovered.
Bradley return a few minutes later. “It’s all set. Load your data into a comm-unit and come with me!”
Jarrod paused for a second then asked, “Where are you taking us, Mac?”
Bradley grinned at his friend and his companions then answered, “To see the commodore, of course!”
**********
Jarrod had not been aboard Camadin Station long nor had he had time to explore the station very much, but he could tell that Bradley wasn’t taking them to the Command Center. In fact, he was leading them toward the central core of the station and some of the station’s support sections.
“Uh…Mac, exactly where are you taking us?” Jarrod asked his friend.
“Sorry,” Commander Bradley began, “I guess I should have been more explicit in my previous answer. Commodore Rivers takes regular walks through all of the various sections of the station. It’s a habit he picked up as a first officer from one of his captains. 'Walking the ship' he calls it…he still does it, even now aboard Camadin Station. It’s his way of getting a feel for how things are going aboard the station…with the people and the station itself. He gets to talk with the crew and they get to see their commanding officer! I swear he has a sixth sense about finding out things before they become problems.”
“So, the commodore is out and about, eh?” asked Ian Huntington-Smythe. “I say, it seems that we’
re getting close to the ‘Farm’ unless I’m dreadfully mistaken.”
The “Farm” as it is called is a section of a vessel or station dedicated to growing plants to supplement the oxygen regeneration and food systems. In some vessels, it is merely a system of hydroponic growth chambers, while on some large vessels and stations the “Farm” might include soil and plants such as grass, flowers, and trees to create an arboretum for the crew to relax in.
“That’s a keen observation, Mr. Huntington-Smythe,” Bradley told him. “What tipped you off?”
“Well, I was responsible for the ‘Farm’ on my first two assignments, sir,” answered Huntington-Smythe. “I recognize some of the standardized piping and equipment. Plus…there are certain tell-tale…aromas that I am detecting.” The five Fleet officers shared a chuckle. All of them had visited a “Farm” before, even if only for a few minutes. And, of course, some of them had even worked in such an important part of a vessel’s or station’s life support system.
Several minutes later, they met up with Commodore James B. Rivers and another officer. Rivers paused to introduce Camadin Station’s resident “farmer” Lieutenant Commander Eugene Barkley. Bradley explained that Barkley had served aboard Rivers’ last ship, the Terran Colonial Vessel (TCV) Conestoga and had transferred to Camadin Station when the “Farm” and arboretum were installed several years before.
“So, Commander Bradley tells me you have some important information for me,” said Rivers cutting to the chase. Bradley nodded to Jarrod and his friends.
“Yes sir!” Jarrod replied. “Whenever you have some free time.”
Commodore Rivers chuckled at that comment. “Ah yes…free time! I vaguely remember what that is. With the war going poorly, there’s no time like the present, Commander Caulder! Gene, do you mind if we borrow your office for a little while?”
Commander Barkley answered promptly, “Not a problem, sir! Take your time.” Rivers nodded his thanks and waved Bradley, Caulder, and the others towards an office located nearby. As the commodore stepped past Commander Barkley, the commander handed him a potato. Rivers nodded his thanks again. As he walked, he pulled a small folding knife from his pocket and opened the blade.
Commander Bradley helped Jarrod’s team set up their presentation in the office. While they did that, Jarrod watched Commodore Rivers. The station commander had stepped over to a sink in one corner of the office and was carefully peeling the potato, being careful to put the skin into a small bucket on one side of the sink. The potato skin would be recycled in the “Farm’s” compost pile to add nutrients back into the arboretum’s soil. Once the potato was skinned, Rivers washed it under the water tap then rinsed off his knife.
Rivers walked back to the table along one side of the room and took a seat. He used his knife to cut off a slice of the raw potato and popped the slice into his mouth. He waved a hand to tell Jarrod and the others to begin their presentation.
Jarrod dimmed the office lights, pressed a button, and the 3D projectors in the room came to life and the Proge presentation began to play. Jarrod watched Rivers carefully as the senior officer watched and listened to the presentation. Throughout the first part of the presentation, Rivers continued to cut slices from the raw potato and munch on them. The commodore ran out of potato before the presentation ended, so he wiped the blade with a paper towel then carefully closed the knife and returned it to his pocket all without taking his eyes off of the projection.
The presentation ended and Jarrod brought the lights back up. Rivers had leaned forward in his chair and rested his elbows on the table with his fingers steepled and his chin rested on his thumbs. He pulled his face away from his hands and asked Jarrod, “So you believe your father is close to discovering location of the Proge homeworld?”
All eyes turned to Jarrod. He cleared his throated and answered, “Yessir! My father has been searching for it for quite some time, but based on the information he’s sent me and the clandestine manner in which he sent it, I think he’s getting close.”
Rivers closed his eyes in thought for a moment before speaking again. “We’ve all heard the stories of the Proge and their highly advanced society and awesome technologies. Do you believe that your father may find evidence of those technologies? And that some of those technologies might help us in the war against the Azairi?”
Jarrod began to get worried. It seemed that the commodore wasn’t convinced. “Uh…yes sir, we do! We realize this is a long shot, Commodore Rivers, but my father has never communicated to me in this fashion before. It’s almost as if he’s expect me…us…to use Fleet technology to finish what he’s started. He knows I love a good mystery.”
Rivers rose from his seat and stepped over to one side of the office and looked at Bradley, asking a silent question. Bradley returned his commander’s gaze and nodded. Rivers pivoted, turning back to face Jarrod, and said, “So assuming your father has found clues to the Proge homeworld and assuming we can help him decipher these clues and assuming we do find that world and we do find some useful technologies, the real question becomes…do we have sufficient time to develop those technologies into a viable weapon? You must admit, commander, those are a lot of assumptions.”
Jarrod could feel his shoulders slump slightly then he squared his jaw and his shoulders and looked Rivers directly in the eyes. “Sir, I’d be willing to stake what’s left of my life to prove that my father is correct!” Rivers returned the younger officer’s gaze then looked to his friend, Bradley, once again.
Bradley replied, “At the least, this could provide us with a possible fallback position, Skipper, in case things go to slime.” Rivers paused to weigh this new idea.
The commodore looked out through a window at the stretch of hydroponic trays in the vast room beyond. Bradley knew that his old friend was analyzing the data he’d just received. Finally, Rivers looked at Caulder and his friends.
“Alright, I’m willing to accept your hypothesis. But we need to compartmentalize and accelerate your work. It won’t do any good to get everyone’s hopes up if we don’t succeed. Mac, we’re going to set up Project Search. We’ll assign Commanders Caulder, Huntington-Smythe, and Esteban-Smith to the project. You arrange their lab space and security requirements, as you see fit. We’ll need to read-in some of the linguists, mathematicians, and probably more folks from some other fields. Phase One will be to finish deciphering the clues from the images and text. Phase Two will be identifying the specific star systems and their locations. Phase Three will be to pay a visit to the Proge homeworld and Phase 4 will be to recover any potentially useful technologies,” Rivers said, ticking off each point on his fingers. He looked around the room at the other officers.
Commander Bradley spoke up. “Phase Three should include identifying any potential fallback locations…just in case.”
Rivers nodded then added, “I’m sure we’ll come up with revisions to this plan as we go along, Mac. ‘No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy’, you know.” Rivers and Bradley shared a knowing smile. “Oh, here’s another change. Commander Caulder, I know that you are under medical treatment for a serious health issue. If you’re going to be working long hours on this project, we should probably ask Dr. Rivers to assign you a field medic to monitor your condition and medication schedule. We can’t have you racing off to the Med-Center all the time, right?”
Jarrod smiled and answered, “Yes sir! Perhaps Lieutenant Rai could draw that assignment?”
It was Rivers’ and Bradley’s turns to smile. The commodore spoke to mid-air, “How does that sound to you, Dr. Rivers?”
“I’ll enter it into my log report right now, Commodore Honey!” the voice of Dr. Charlotte Rivers answered promptly, cheerfully, and quite informally. The commodore and his security officer shared another look and chuckle.
“Thank you, darling! I’ll try to be home on time tonight!” the commodore said to his wife, who had obviously been watching and listening to the presentation from her office.
; “Yeah, right…I’ve heard that before, darling!” the commodore’s wife responded. “I love you and will see you soon!” With that, the doctor cut the communication from her end.
“Pardon my wife, please, ladies and gentlemen. She is a doctor first and an officer in the Terran Fleet second. And I love her…so I put up with it,” he said to the others with a smile. He paused to check the time on a clock on a wall. “Let’s meet in my office in the morning and iron out some more details of the plan. Besides, I think Mr. Barkley wants his office back!” Rivers waved at Barkley through a window to beckon him into the room.
“Gene, thanks for the use of your office and for the potato,” he told the station’s “farmer” and clapped him on the shoulder. “We’re done in here. You have a good night.”
Jarrod and his friends followed Commodore Rivers and Commander Bradley out into the “Farm” itself. Before they left that particular section of the station, Rivers paused and told them, “Be at my office at 0900 hours. Until then, check your data then call it an evening. Goodnight, now!” Bradley followed Rivers back towards the Command section of the station, while Jarrod and his friends made their way back to their lab.
**********
Jarrod and his team arrived at the commodore’s office 15 minutes early the following morning. Commodore Rivers was in a morning staff meeting so they had to sit in a waiting room for several minutes.
Soon, the conference room door opened and officers began filing out of the room. The last person to come to the door was Commodore Rivers. Seeing Jarrod and the others, he smiled, waved to them, and said, “C’mon in!” Commander Bradley stood at a coffee bar to one side of the room.
“Grab yourselves something to drink while I visit the head for a moment,” Rivers told the new arrivals then walked over to a doorway at one end of the room. That doorway led to the head, a naval term for restroom. Jarrod poured himself some fruit juice, Maria chose coffee, while Ian and Ellie prepared cups of tea for themselves. Bradley indicated chairs at one end of the conference table and the four officers took their seats. They had hardly taken their seats when the door to the head opened and Rivers re-entered the room. All four jumped to their feet which brought smiles to the faces of Rivers and Bradley.
Camadin Station Two - Last Stand Page 7