Mission Origin View (Final Days Trilogy)

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Mission Origin View (Final Days Trilogy) Page 3

by Knox, Barry


  Gideon rapped on Captain Forest’s door.

  “Enter!”

  “Sir, Lieutenant Klaxton reporting, sir.” Gideon stood at attention, holding his salute.

  Captain Forest returned his salute. “At ease, Lieutenant. Take a seat.”

  Gideon sat down, wondering if his recon mission had been recalled because he was in some kind of trouble.

  “Lieutenant, you’ve received orders,” Captain Forest said as he pulled papers from a desk drawer and looked at them. “The orders state that you’re assigned to Mount Mitchell and will report there tomorrow.

  “Son, I don’t know what this is about, but it’s not normal at all. You’ve either made somebody mad, or you’ve got a friend in DC. Either way, I hate to lose you.” Captain Forest paused and continued. “Get your stuff together and get out of my sight.”

  “Yes, sir!” Gideon yelled as he stood at attention and saluted.

  Captain Forest returned his salute with a smile and said, “Good luck, Gideon.”

  USS Roger B. Chaffee, Mars Orbit

  1000—February 7, 2372

  The destroyer USS Roger B. Chaffee, stationed over Mars in geostationary orbit, was tasked to protect the United States Mars Station Viking. The destroyer could easily be seen by the naked eye from Station Viking at night.

  Station Viking had first been used as a deep space communications outpost and was now the largest space port on the planet. The Roger B. Chaffee ensured that any attempted attacks from space would be detected early and prevented. The destroyer had been on station for two months as part of a six-month rotation period with other destroyers.

  Captain Mary Bowser had just returned to her quarters on the Chaffee when her cabin communication system chimed. “Bowser here,” she said as she began removing her jumpsuit for what she hoped would be a long, hot shower. She’d been on duty for sixteen hours and needed a break.

  “Jackson here, Captain. I just received an urgent message for you from MSSC,” Communication Officer Ensign Jeffery Jackson said. MSSC was the acronym for Mars Strategic Space Command.

  “Pipe it to my quarters,” Mary ordered.

  “Sorry, Captain, the message is classified as ultra top secret for you only. You’ll have to take the message in the combat control center,” Jackson said.

  With a sigh, Mary began pulling her jumpsuit back on. “Very well, I’ll be in the Triple C in two minutes.”

  “The message will be waiting for you on communications link alpha one. Jackson out.”

  Mary entered the Triple C and ordered the officer on duty to leave. She used a holographic console and pulled up the message. An instant later she was looking at a recorded message from her commander, Admiral Shockley.

  “Hello, Captain. I have new orders for you,” the hologram said. “You’re immediately relieved of command and will turn temporary command of the Roger B. Chaffee over to your first officer, Commander Canfield. You’ll board the next transport to Earth, which leaves at zero five hundred, and will report to Admiral Frank at Mount Mitchell as soon as possible. Good luck, Captain. Shockley out.”

  The transmission ended. Mary sat, momentarily dazed by the message, and then the usual reassignment questions crossed her mind. Was she in trouble? Why the sudden transfer of command? Was she going to be assigned a desk job, or was she being given a more important command? She finally just stopped thinking about it. She’d find out soon enough.

  Mary pulled up another holographic menu and selected a communications link to the Chaffee’s bridge. “Commander Canfield?”

  “Canfield here, Captain.”

  “I want you and all the ship’s officers in the Triple C as soon as possible. We’ve just received new orders.”

  “Yes, Captain, right away.”

  USS Fallujah, Earth Orbit

  1600—February 9, 2372

  Australia could be seen through the windows embedded in the air lock doors. Chief Petty officer Jason O’Brian watched the continent slowly pass by and was daydreaming of his upcoming thirty days’ leave. Suddenly the outer air lock door opened, and Petty Officer Third Class Joseph Sipes appeared, blocking O’Brian’s view of the Great Barrier Reef.

  Joseph was returning from a space walk to examine a hull impact the ship’s computer had reported a few hours earlier. The huge man, in a navy-blue space suit, pulled himself into the air lock and manipulated a holographic console to close the outer door. As soon as the outer door was closed, the air lock began to equalize pressure with the rest of the ship, and the gravity panels began to activate, allowing the big man to slowly descend to the deck. Once the air lock was pressurized and gravity was fully activated, the inner air lock door opened. Joseph walked toward the opened door while taking his helmet off.

  “Chief, I don’t know what hit us, but it was big,” Joseph said as he approached O’Brian.

  “Figured that out from the video feed,” Chief O’Brian said.

  “Chief, contact supply and have ten hull panels waiting for me outside hangar fifteen. I’ll go grab my tools and top off my air tanks. I think I can have the damaged hull fixed by eighteen hundred.” Joseph said.

  “It’s going to get fixed, but you’re not the one who’s going to fix it,” O’Brian said. “The bridge just chimed me and told me to have you report to the captain in his cabin as soon as possible.”

  Joseph stopped and stared at O’Brian, looking dumbfounded.

  “Just don’t stand there, Sipes. Get out of your pressure suit, get into your uniform, and report to the captain. Now!” O’Brian snapped to break Joseph’s trance.

  ***

  Petty Officer Third Class Joseph Sipes took up more space than the average crewman aboard a ship. As he walked down one of the ship’s corridors toward the captain’s cabin, two crewmen who walked abreast had to walk single file to pass him.

  Joseph hesitated for a few seconds while standing outside the captain’s quarters, then knocked on the door.

  “Enter!” Captain Nelson yelled, a response that made Joseph feel even more uneasy.

  Joseph entered and saw Captain Nelson sitting at a desk, which was tucked into a corner of his cabin. Nelson was probably the oldest captain still in command of a ship. He was thin, his silver hair buzzed short, and in his presence everyone knew the older man was experienced and in charge. Joseph approached the captain’s desk, stood at attention, saluted, and then reported. “Sir, Petty Officer Third Class Joseph Sipes reporting as ordered.” The captain returned the salute, and Joseph stood at parade rest.

  “Sipes, you have orders,” the captain said. “I didn’t receive your orders in the usual way; these were sent to me ultra top secret and can only be viewed when we’re both alone in my cabin.”

  Captain Nelson manipulated his desk console and entered his navy identification code. Nelson then brought up a holographic display console and asked Joseph to enter his navy identification code. After the codes were entered, the ship’s computer turned on a DNA scan beam and authenticated their identities. The system then displayed a holographic view of the orders.

  To: Captain Nelson,

  Captain, Marine Assault Carrier USS Fallujah

  From: United States Navy

  Naval Intelligence Command

  Subject: Classified: Crewman Transfer Orders

  Petty Officer Third Class Joseph Sipes, current assignment Hull Maintenance Technician USS Fallujah, is ordered to report to Admiral Frank, USECC Mount Mitchell, North Carolina.

  Priority transit card is being created and will be used to secure transportation needed to arrive at new station as soon as possible.

  As Nelson and Joseph read the orders, the captain’s console created a priority transit card and ejected the two-inch-by-three-inch plastic card from the console’s card media slot. Captain Nelson took the card and handed it to Joseph.

  “I’ve only been given two transit cards in my career,” Captain Nelson said with a hint of envy. “Sipes, this assignment must be a big deal. Get your gear and be on th
e next shuttle off the Fallujah. Good luck, Son!”

  USECC, Mount Mitchell

  0935—February 10, 2372

  Lieutenant Klaxton was the first to be escorted to the same conference room in the USECC that had been used two weeks before to approve Mission Origin View. Gideon still had no idea why he was in an empty conference room below a mountain. He took a seat at the desk and waited.

  A half-hour later the conference room door opened, and a naval petty officer third class entered. When the sailor saw Gideon, he stood at attention and snapped off a salute. Gideon returned the salute.

  “At ease, sailor,” Gideon said, then asked, “Are you here to tell me what’s going on?”

  “No, sir,” Joseph answered. “I hoped that you knew why I was here, sir.”

  “I guess we’ll find out together,” Gideon said as he motioned for Joseph to take a seat. “Might as well make yourself comfortable, sailor.”

  Joseph was a big black man, probably the largest sailor Gideon had seen. After a brief discussion, Gideon found that Joseph was a starship hull repairman who’d served on several ships and had been in many space battles.

  A few minutes later, Navy Captain Mary Bowser and Marine Captain Rezin Neubauer arrived. Both Gideon and Joseph stood and saluted the newcomers. After introductions and discussions among themselves, Gideon realized these captains were also going to be part of whatever was happening.

  Captain Bowser was a petite woman with short jet-black hair. She looked to be in her early thirties, but said she had just turned forty-seven. She had been in the United States Navy since her graduation from Annapolis. She had served on several Earth ocean vessels early in her career and had worked her way up to captain a space combat vessel. She had combat experience on the ocean and in space.

  Marine Captain Rezin Neubauer looked like a typical marine captain. He was average height, muscular, dark-brown eyes, with short light-brown hair. Gideon noticed the captain wore numerous campaign ribbons, several service metal ribbons, and a Purple Heart ribbon with three oak leaf clusters.

  ***

  By 1000 the conference room held fourteen naval personnel and five marines. They were talking among themselves trying to figure out what was going on. Finally the conference room door opened, and everyone stopped talking.

  Senator Rimms entered, followed by Admiral Frank. The sailors and marines saw the admiral and stood at attention. The senator walked to the podium as Admiral Frank followed.

  “Please be seated, ladies and gentlemen,” Senator Rimms said.

  Everyone sat.

  “I’m Senator Rimms, Senate Armed Services Chairman, and this is Admiral Frank, your new commander. He’ll now brief you on your new assignment,” the senator said as he stepped aside and allowed Admiral Frank to approach the podium.

  “Sailors, marines…you are now officially assigned to Mission Origin View. This mission is classified ultra top secret. Your mission is to take a team of scientists safely to a point in space where they’ll use highly advanced long-range optical and sensor devices in an attempt to discover how life originated on Earth,” Admiral Frank said as he looked at the sailors and marines seated at the table. He saw blank stares looking back at him, and he assumed each sailor and marine was trying to grasp the significance of what he or she had just heard.

  Admiral Frank continued. “Over the next two days you’ll be briefed here on your individual and group responsibilities and then be transported to Phobos. You’ll have two days to become familiar with your ship, the SRS Stephen Hawking, and then you’ll embark on the mission.

  “I know everyone has questions, and that’s why we’ll be briefing you individually and in specific groups. When you arrive at your assigned quarters, you’ll find a briefing schedule loaded on an ATCCS that’s been specially designed for this mission. Your ATCCS will be worn on the forearm of your mission uniform, and you’ll be scheduled for a wireless communications device to be implanted in your ear this afternoon. The implant allows verbal communicates with your ATCCS. Dismissed!”

  Everyone stood at attention as Admiral Frank and Senator Rimms left the room. A few seconds later, everyone slowly left the conference room, and marine guards escorted him or her to his or her quarters.

  ***

  Gideon arrived at his quarters: one room, a cot, a small desk, a chair, and a locker. Men, women, civilians, officers, and enlisted shared a latrine down the hall.

  Gideon saw one plain, unmarked white jumpsuit and four green mission jumpsuits hanging in his locker. He pulled one of the green mission jumpsuits out and examined it. It was a traditional, lightweight, dark-green marine starship uniform with his last name stenciled above a small pocket on his left chest. Gold second lieutenant bars were stenciled on his collar. Patches were also on his jumpsuit. The patches were attached using micrometal velcro. A ship patch was located above the pocket on the right side of his chest, while a mission emblem patch was attached to his left shoulder. An American flag patch and a marine unit patch were attached to his right shoulder.

  On a shelf above his jumpsuits were standard-issue underwear, socks, a pair of boots, and his new ATCCS.

  Gideon tossed his new jumpsuit on his cot, picked up the ATCCS, and examined it. The ATCCS was wider, had a larger display, and was thinner than the normal wrist version. He also noted the artificial intelligence (AI) computer chip, imbedded in the wrist band, was smaller. The ATCCS would attach to either forearm of his jumpsuit using micrometal velcro. Gideon laid the device on the small desk and turned it on using the standard push-button interface; it started immediately and displayed his name, rank, and a briefing schedule. His first briefing would be at 1300.

  USECC, Mount Mitchell

  1300—February 10, 2372

  All naval and marine officers, assigned to Mission Origin View, sat in a smaller conference room. Admiral Frank was there, accompanied by Dr. Seth Harper and Dr. Heli Jones. Both doctors and the admiral gave more in-depth mission details. Then the officers were allowed to ask questions.

  “Doctor Harper, how exactly did you come up with this theory that if we go far enough into space, we can look back in time?” communications officer Ensign Matthew Young asked.

  “That’s a great question. If you think back to your physics classes, you’ll probably remember your professor telling you that the stars we see today are not actually the same stars that are in the sky. What we see is actually how the stars looked billions of years ago because the time for the light to get to the Earth takes light-years. We’ve concluded that if we can go billions of light-years away from Earth in a relatively short period of time, we’ll be able to look back at Earth as it was billions of years ago,” Dr. Harper explained.

  “All right, so we’re going to be sent light-years away from Earth, further than any starship has ever traveled. Since we’re going to be so far away from Earth—and I assume there isn’t a way to rescue us if we run into trouble—are there any precautions that have been taken to ensure a safe trip there and back?” navigation officer Lieutenant Temani LaPalm asked.

  Dr. Harper replied, “There’re no absolutes in this mission because nothing like this has ever been attempted. I know this doesn’t inspire confidence in what we’re about to do, but let me assure you that we’ve taken every known precaution into account and have made the Stephen Hawking as safe as possible. At the moment we’re not exactly sure how far we’ll have to go to get to our initial observation point, but we’ve estimated it to be four point five billion light-years away.”

  “Admiral, why’s the Stephen Hawking designated as a civilian Scientific Research Ship and commanded by the United States Navy?” Mary asked.

  “The main reason is for security, Captain,” Admiral Frank said. “Although this is a scientific mission, classified military technology will be used, and weapons are available for defense.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Mary said.

  “Sir, why are marines assigned to this mission?” Captain Neubauer asked.

&nbs
p; Admiral Frank answered, “The marine contingent will, of course, enforce ship security during the mission and will also be used, if necessary, to assist Doctors Harper and Jones in looking for and acquiring three other scientists who’ll also accompany the mission. These scientists are on three different colonized planets that the Stephen Hawking will stop at on its way to its destination. As of yet, the governments of these planets haven’t responded to our request of allowing these scientists to become a part of this mission. We do hope that their approval will be received before the Stephen Hawking departs.”

  Gideon listened to the answer, and read more into the admiral’s response. The marines would probably have to extract the scientists from the planets using force. Gideon, though excited by the prospect, also felt apprehensive in having to kidnap someone.

  “Thank you, sir,” Neubauer said.

  “Also, Captain Neubauer, you need three more enlisted marines for your contingency. I know you’ve selected three marines you’ve worked with before; I suggest you let Lieutenant Klaxton select three men that he’s worked with,” Admiral Frank said.

  “Very well, sir.” Neubauer said. “I’ll provide you with the names of the marines Lieutenant Klaxton selects right after the briefing.”

  Oklahoma Spaceport, US Navy Orbital Shuttle Area

  0400—February 13, 2372

  The crew of the SRS Stephen Hawking wore their white jumpsuits with no insignia when their suborbital transport from Mount Mitchell landed at Oklahoma Spaceport. The passengers, carrying their individual duffel bags strapped over their shoulder, exited the transport down its rear cargo ramp.

  A navy orbital shuttle, which would take them to their transport to Mars, was parked by their suborbital transport, waiting for them to board.

  “Hey, Lieutenant Klaxton!” someone yelled as Gideon and the rest of the crew were being herded to the orbital shuttle.

 

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