New Frontiers (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 1)

by Joshua Dalzelle

  Her orders from CENTCOM ended up being as vague as she expected them to be, but they did empower her with enough command authority to get the other Seventh Fleet captains underway and steaming up to where she wanted them. Since most of the Black Fleet ships were orbiting DeLonges she sent an immediate transmission to Orbital Control to have them all moved up to a high holding orbit and ordered them up to escape velocity. It would take the better part of the day for them to untangle themselves from the random formations they had moved into to get up and away from the planet.

  Celesta had no doubt her Fourth Fleet counterpart had received similar orders and she wanted to get her ships moving first. After she’d sent Accari up to the bridge to handle getting her orders to the fourteen ships in orbit around DeLonges, she messaged Lieutenant Ellison directly to have him order the two Black Fleet assault cruisers in orbit over New Sierra to form up on the Icarus.

  “I think the sixth planet will make the most sense to form up around,” Celesta said, having changed one of the monitors to a real-time depiction of the DeLonges System with a top-down view. “We’ll still be far enough down the well to give the older ships plenty of room to accelerate to transition velocity, but we’ll be out of the mess down here.”

  “So we’re really doing this,” Barrett said. “We’re going to war over the attack in the Xi’an System.”

  “It would appear so,” Celesta said slowly. “You feel we shouldn’t?”

  “I feel like I would like to know more about the Darshik, and from a source independent from the Ushin,” Barrett said. “While most people have no idea what the Phage actually was, we do. The Vruahn could have been straight with us the moment they knew Xi’an had been attacked the first time, but they withheld support and information until after millions were dead.”

  “And you think the Ushin are similarly duplicitous?”

  “Maybe.” Barrett shrugged. “I do think we’re being spoon fed information in order to reach the conclusion they want us to. I’m also not so certain I believe that a race of beings with advanced starships and colonies on other planets somehow can’t build an effective weapon and deploy it. The Vruahn were also pacifists but were able to build powerful warships, the Phage itself, and even cloned humans to do their fighting.”

  “Unfortunately, Commander, we’re all drawing our conclusions based on the limited information we each have,” Celesta said, ignoring the last part of his comments as they raised an unpleasant reality. “And that isn’t much, given that CENTCOM and the civilian oversight is being very tight-lipped.”

  “How do you reconcile with that, Captain?” Barrett pressed her.

  “I simplify it for myself,” she said, turning to him. “I took an oath when I joined Starfleet and accepted my commission. If I’m told that to protect humanity we need to fly back in harm’s way, then that’s what we’ll do. I may question the wisdom of it, but if the time comes when I find I can no longer perform my duty in good faith I’ll resign my commission and return home. But what I won’t do is openly defy the orders of those who are appointed over me.”

  Barrett said nothing and Celesta couldn’t help but wonder if her professed faith in the chain of command was a result of her previous meeting with Admiral Marcum.

  The admiral’s biting, angry remarks had completely blindsided Celesta, as she thought she had enjoyed his trust and genuinely felt she was doing what was expected of her. She was from a world where trust was earned and not so fickly revoked, and the higher she rose in the ranks of Starfleet and the closer she got to that gray demarcation line that blurred the boundary between military and politics the more she realized things weren’t so cut and dried. It didn’t bother her so much that Marcum had used her and her ship’s legend to further his own agendas, as she was beginning to suspect was the case, but she was annoyed that despite the repeated warnings from someone who had been there she’d still allowed herself to be caught off-guard when it turned on her.

  “How long until those two cruisers get up here?” she asked Barrett. He blinked a few times at the sudden change of subject before recovering.

  “Fourteen hours, ma’am,” he said. “Give or take an hour. They’re parked down in a holding orbit stationary relative to the Platform, actually trailing along behind it. Once they’re cleared they’ll have to push away into traffic and move through three transfer orbits to get up to us.”

  “Send them new orders to just meet us over the sixth planet with everyone else.” Celesta stood and logged off her terminal. “I want the Icarus away from New Sierra as quickly as possible.”

  “Aye, ma’am.”

  ****

  “This has to be some sort of record,” Admiral Marcum commented as he read over the summary sheet of the resolution that had just been passed in the Parliament. “Nearly unanimous too.”

  “Always a few holdouts,” President Wellington said as he sat carefully in his seat. “Don’t worry, it’s all in there. How are things on your end?”

  “Wright and Everett are organizing the taskforce.” Marcum laid the document down on the table in front of him. “The Amsterdam is in no shape to fly so I’ll be transferring over to the—”

  “You’ll be handing command of this mission over to Fleet Admiral Pitt, or another suitable flag officer, and you’ll be transferring your stuff down here to your office … the place where you’re supposed to be when I need you,” Wellington said. “You’re the CENTCOM Chief of Staff, the liaison between Fleet and my office. You are not supposed to be standing on the bridge of a starship interfering with your people. From what I’ve seen recently you’re far too close to the operations side.”

  “Mr. President, if I may—”

  “This is not a negotiation, Marcum!” Wellington said loudly. “Either get with the program or get busy with your resignation. I need you doing the job your position requires. You’re fairly useless to me if every time I need an answer from you I have to wait four weeks for a com drone to find you.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” Marcum said neutrally, knowing this was an argument he wasn’t going to win. “I’ll assign someone as soon as I get to my office. I can’t afford to have Pitt gone for that long.”

  “That’s fine,” Wellington said. “Just make sure it’s someone who can work well with Captain Wright since she’ll be executing the initial push. Which ship is taking the Amsterdam’s place? This is just idle curiosity, mind you … I’m not micromanaging Fleet operations.”

  “It’ll have to be the New York,” Marcum sighed. “She’s the only Dreadnought-class ship that’s FMC. The Amsterdam is out and the others are at the Tsuyo-Barclays Shipyards over Arcadia getting the RDS refit.”

  “Get your people spun up and get those ships out of the DeLonges System as fast as you can,” Wellington said. “We have legislative approval on this so let’s not sit on it. The Ushin are holding up their side of things so far, at least according to the diplomatic team, so as soon as Fleet Planning decides this is an acceptable risk given the size of the taskforce we’re fielding I want them underway.”

  “Yes, Mr. President,” Marcum stood. “Will there be anything else, sir?”

  “Yes,” Wellington said slowly, his eyes going cold. “I’ve been making some discreet inquiries and have so far been getting nowhere, so now it’s time to get it from the horse’s mouth, as the saying goes. Have a seat, Admiral. You’re not going anywhere until I get a complete rundown on what the hell Prometheus is and don’t spare any of the details.”

  “It’s an artificial intelligence research project,” Marcum shrugged, trying to control his reactions. “We have it isolated for its protection and that of our own networks, not to mention the damn ESA sniffing around. We’re using it to wargame through various training scenarios … it’s nothing of particular import. Was there some reason you’re asking about that project specifically, sir?” He knew that sprinkling in just enough truth would help him cover his own ass later should Wellington ever find out what was really going on in the
Arcadia System.

  “I don’t like having to hunt for answers, Admiral,” Wellington said, turning his back in what was an obvious dismissal.

  ****

  “The drone just made dock, Cap—Mr. Wolfe! There are com packets for you, both personal and project related.”

  “We’re colleagues, Danilo. Jackson is fine.” Jackson Wolfe looked up from his tile as his assistant came in. He felt bad for the young man given the isolation that Project Prometheus demanded of its staff, but the Cube had spoken to him and he knew that if he hadn’t gotten him off New Sierra quickly some overzealous spook would have had the poor bastard “stored” somewhere so that he couldn’t spread around what he’d seen.

  “Technically, you still outrank everyone here,” Danilo said.

  “That’s just for the bean counters.” Jackson stroked at the three months of beard growth. “My rank is just an equivalency, I’m no more a brigadier general than I am still a starship captain. We’re all just researchers. So … why has the delivery drone’s appearance made you so excited?”

  “There was replacement coffee aboard.” Danilo smiled.

  “That is good news,” Jackson stood. “Times were indeed becoming desperate as I found myself going through all the assorted teas looking for something with enough caffeine to justify drinking something that tastes like lawn clippings. Have Stevens and Marcos unpack commissary provisions first … I’m sure the rest of the equipment can wait.”

  “Yes, sir.” Danilo straightened and walked out of the room. Jackson just shook his head, thankful the young man had at least stopped actually trying to salute him. The problem was that a lot of the rest of the staff of Project Prometheus wasn’t any better. There were ex-Fleet and even a few former Marines, all who had served during the Phage War, that recognized him immediately when they’d established the new facility. For months the hushed whispers when he walked by and even some snapping to attention when he walked into a room had prompted him to take steps. The customs and courtesies were familiar, as were the surroundings, but Jackson wanted his people relaxed and focused on the task at hand. He also didn’t want any misconceptions, by either his staff or himself, that he was still the “Captain.”

  He got up from his desk and left his cramped office. Despite there being many other, larger rooms available, there was a definite comfort level in his current accommodations. He walked down the passageway, intent on being one of the first to tear into the month’s new coffee shipment when a loud alarm blared and red lights flashed in the corridor.

  “Administrator Wolfe to the port, aft airlock … Administrator Wolfe to the port, aft airlock.” The voice over the intercom belonged to the facility’s computer. “Security teams to the port, aft airlock … security teams to the port, aft airlock.”

  That last part got Jackson hustling. Project Prometheus had been housed in a deep-space facility, disguised in order to keep those a bit too curious away. The issue with a good disguise is that having overt security tended to spoil it, but not having it meant you ran the risk of unwanted visitors being able to get up close before noticing them. It appeared they had just such an incident.

  “Report!” Jackson barked as he strode across the antechamber that was connected to the auxiliary airlock, shouldering through armed security contractors as he did.

  “Unknown ship has just made hard dock,” the team lead said. “No transponder signatures and we didn’t pick it up on thermals until it was so close it was able to connect to the collar with a flexible gangway.”

  “We have visuals up?” Jackson asked.

  “Yes, sir,” the contractor said. “Stand by.” He slung his weapon and entered some commands into the terminal beside the airlock hatch, routing the external optical feed so that Jackson could see what kind of ship had just latched onto his lab without permission. When the sensor trained down from above and he could see a top profile of the ship, he ground his teeth in anger. He should have expected this sooner or later.

  “Please send this message via the inductive link in the docking collar: ‘What the fuck are you doing here, Pike?’”

  “Verbatim, sir?” the contractor asked, his hands pausing over the terminal.

  “If you please.” Jackson nodded once. It was another minute before a reply came back.

  “It says, ‘President Wellington has asked me to come find you.’”

  “President Wellington?” Jackson muttered. “Go ahead and cycle the lock, Stanford. Keep an eye on this guy until I give you the all clear. He’s a bit goofy but very dangerous.”

  Stanford entered in the security code that would allow Pike to externally command the airlock cycle and stepped back, raising his weapon halfway as he did. It wasn’t even another full minute before the red lights ringing the airlock hatch began flashing amber and then a solid green as the pressure was equalized and the hatch locks were released.

  “Fancy meeting you here,” Pike said as he strolled into the antechamber, completely ignoring the half-dozen infantry carbines aimed in his general direction. “Project Prometheus, I assume? Or have you completely lost your mind and this is now where you’ve taken up residence in your retirement … keep in mind the beard is actually making me think it’s the latter.”

  “Pike,” Jackson said slowly, “you really shouldn’t be here. Careful security measures are in place and all of this was approved at the highest levels of CENTCOM and under blanket immunity within the Senate.”

  “That’s one of the issues.” Pike looked around, still ignoring the security team. “There is no more Senate, no more Confederacy either. “We’re now the United Terran Federation and your immunity may not have survived the restructuring. President Augustus Wellington would be most grateful if you could give his humble servant a brief explanation of what it is you’re doing here.” Pike’s statement started the security personnel muttering amongst themselves before Jackson raised his hand.

  “It looks like much has happened and we’ve been somewhat … isolated,” Jackson said. “Stand down, everybody. I’ll take responsibility for this one. Stanford, cancel the alert and let everyone know we have a plus one aboard.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “This way, Agent Pike,” Jackson said and led his friend out of the airlock area and back towards his office. “So how did you find us?”

  “It damn sure wasn’t easy,” Pike said, keeping pace. “So who should go first? It’s obvious you’ve been way out of the loop on current events and it seems I’m slipping that something this elaborate could be put in motion without me getting much information on it.”

  “Why don’t you go first and catch me up,” Jackson said; he’d much rather be breaking into the new coffee than talking to Pike. If he was here, it meant that the whole project was in danger of being exposed. There was still so much left to do before information could be allowed to leak out to the political class. The trick would be convincing Pike to go back to Wellington and claim he couldn’t find anything else out about Prometheus and hope the Senator—make that President—did what he usually did and move on at the next distraction.

  ****

  “That’s all very … surprising,” Jackson said after Pike had finished with his ninety-minute marathon recitation of events up to when he’d left the DeLonges System. “I knew about the attack in the Xi’an System and the Ushin first contact, but I wasn’t aware that it had progressed to the point that New Sierra was under attack.”

  “That’s about the long and short of it.” Pike shrugged. “We’re getting ready to mount a counteroffensive with your former protégé leading up the first wave.”

  “Wright has destroyed more alien ships in combat than any other Fleet captain,” Jackson said. “She seems the obvious choice. So how did you find us?”

  “I took a chance that you wouldn’t be far from your wife.” Pike smiled. “I knew she was here on Arcadia developing the new crew training program for the ships Orbital Command is getting, or whatever the hell they’re calling themselves this we
ek, so I parked in the system for the last six days and monitored all the com traffic and outbound flights. Given the secrecy of the project and the assumption that you were the principal I made the leap of logic that you would prefer a facility that wasn’t planetbound. So when I followed that resupply drone out here I knew I was in the right place … there was no way it was random chance that the drone flew up and docked to one of the two remaining Raptor-class destroyer hulls left.”

  “I knew that choice was going to come back to haunt me,” Jackson said with a half-smile. “But, the Pontiac was still completely intact since New Sierra Shipyard had never gotten around to decommissioning her once the Phage War kicked off in earnest. The powerplant is more than adequate for what we need and I know how to keep her running with a minimal crew.”

  “Is she fully functional?” Pike asked, surprised.

  “More or less,” Jackson said. “We had the missiles taken out of the magazines but everything else is as it was when she was parked out in the boneyard.” The pair fell into an uncomfortable silence for a moment, each knowing what had to come next.

  “What the hell are you doing out here, Wolfe?” Pike asked. “If it makes you feel any better, I really am operating under direct authority of the President.”

  “It does, marginally,” Jackson said. “I’d have felt better if Marcum had given his blessing as well, but since this project would technically be operating under the new CENTCOM charter it looks like the admiral has been trumped. It’ll be easier if I show you.”

  Jackson knew that the secret was exposed even if he didn’t show Pike what it was they were working on aboard the Pontiac. The spook now knew what ship they’d set up shop on, and even if he repositioned her the old destroyer couldn’t be hidden forever, at least not within practical range of the project’s logistical support. So he would roll the dice and hope the agent came to the conclusion that, for the time being, Prometheus was better kept a strict secret, even from the new Federation President.