“Normally I’d politely downplay your display of appreciation,” Middleton said, “but times being what they are, I think we could both use all the friends we can get. Let’s get down to business, shall we?”
Manning nodded approvingly as he withdrew a data crystal from his pocket and slid it across the table to Middleton. “This contains multiple, classified reports concerning events taking place in Elysium these past few weeks which, frankly, I could get court-martialed for sharing with you. The short and sweet version,” he said bitterly as he leaned back in his chair, “is that we’ve been attacked no less than three times by outside interests in what I feel is a concerted effort against our sovereignty. But the politicians back home—Murphy bless their cold, little hearts—can’t bring themselves to use such ‘strong language’.”
“We’ve been tracking pirate activity across a few systems,” Middleton said, “and this latest battle—along with intel gained from recently-captured prisoners—supports the notion of a highly-coordinated effort to seize control over Sectors 23 and 24.”
Manning again nodded approvingly. “Commodore Raubach,” he said scathingly, “and his clan have, indeed, made attempts on every piece of mobile hardware Elysium has. What little communication we can manage with our neighboring systems suggests they’ve experienced a similar, albeit less intense, wave of takeovers resulting in fully a quarter of the military assets in the area being seized or disabled by these pirates.” Manning leaned forward and added in a low, dire tone, “But the truth is, I’m not concerned with Commodore Raubach—he’s little more than a vulture compared to the real threat facing my system.” The High Captain then leaned back and cast deliberate looks toward Sergeant Joneson and Ensign Jardine before silently fixing his steely gaze on Middleton.
Captain Middleton believed he knew the cause of Elysium’s troubles, so he turned to Ensign Jardine. “Would you have Mr. Fei Long come in, please?”
Jardine actually looked stunned for a moment before standing and nodding, “Yes, sir.” He then left the conference room, and the four remaining men sat in silence for several moments.
“I trust Sergeant Joneson implicitly,” Middleton said with a serious nod to the Lancer Sergeant, “but until now only two members of this ship’s crew have suspected what I believe you’re about to confirm: myself, and a…technician, named Fei Long.”
Captain Manning’s eyebrow arched and he pursed his lips tightly but said nothing as the door opened and Ensign Jardine entered the room, followed by Fei Long.
“Mr. Fei,” Middleton said, gesturing to a seat beside Jardine, “take a seat.”
“Yes, Captain,” he said, and Middleton saw a look of concern come over the High Captain’s face as his eyes fixated on the boy’s tattoo over his right eye.
“Mr. Fei Long was formerly a prisoner of planet Shèhuì Héxié,” he explained, “and though I had reservations of my own regarding his service aboard the Pride of Prometheus, he has proven to be an indispensable member of this crew. In truth,” he added with a nod of acknowledgment toward the young man, “we could never have rigged those ‘decoys’ without his help. Without them, we wouldn’t have survived long enough for your arrival to matter.”
High Captain Manning’s countenance softened and he nodded quickly. “If you vouch for him, I’ll accept that.”
“Good,” Middleton said, turning pointedly to Fei Long. “Mr. Fei, I want you to go to the view-screen and type in the word you once wrote for me in the brig.”
Fei Long hesitated briefly before standing and clasping his hands in what Middleton had come to learn was a sign of deference, or obeisance, depending on the circumstances. “Of course, Captain.”
The young man moved to the console and typed in the six letters before expanding them to fill the screen, and Middleton saw Ensign Jardine’s face go white while Sergeant Joneson, as always, took it in stride—though he, too, lifted his eyebrows for several seconds before his expression returned to its usual, professional mask.
The word Fei Long had written for everyone to see:
Droids.
After all the men in the room had processed the word, Fei Long erased it and began a local memory purge of the system, but Captain Middleton held up a hand haltingly, “There’s no need for that, Mr. Fei. Thank you.”
“Of course, Captain,” Fei Long said as he returned to his seat.
Captain Manning gave his son a look, and the Marine Captain nodded approvingly before the old man shook his head in open wonderment, “Most impressive, Captain Middleton...and more than a little disconcerting.”
“How about you get us up to speed on the situation, Captain Manning?” Middleton urged.
“We should have those Destroyers’ jump drives up in three days,” Captain Archibald Manning IV said from the bottom of his shuttle’s ramp over an hour after arriving on the Pride of Prometheus. “Until then, the Elysium’s Defiance will provide cover for your ship as you prepare to accompany us to our home world. I doubt Raubach is willing to risk going up against my ship at this stage in the game, but the chance to recover two more destroyers is more important that having my three ships orbiting Elysium.”
“Three days it is, Captain,” Middleton agreed.
High Captain Manning took another look around the shuttle hangar and chuckled to himself. “Never thought I’d set foot on a Hammerhead again,” he said in open wonderment as he thrust his hand out. “You’re doing good work here, Captain Middleton.”
Middleton accepted the other man’s hand, which was vice-like and actually made him wonder if the old man had bionics of some kind installed. “Thank you for the briefing, Captain.”
Manning nodded and gestured for his son to board the shuttle, and after a few minutes the vessel’s engines lit and it was ready for takeoff. After it exited the hangar, Middleton turned to his three crewmembers. “We’re calling a senior staff meeting now; gather everyone as quickly as you can. This mission just took an unexpected turn.”
Ensign Jardine and Sergeant Joneson nodded before setting about their tasks, leaving Fei Long standing alone with a nervous expression on his face.
“What is it, Mr. Fei?” Middleton asked, unaccustomed to seeing anything but calm on the boy’s face.
“Captain,” Fei Long began hesitantly, “I do not wish to complicate matters…”
Middleton waited for several seconds before prompting, “Go on.”
Fei Long looked to either side, and when he appeared satisfied he took a step closer and said in a lowered voice, “I believe I can suggest a course of action which will prove…beneficial, not only for our current mission but for all missions which our organization conducts in the future. But I will require the use of a long-range vessel so I may return to my home world, in order to retrieve the necessary assets.”
His eyebrows rose as Middleton said, “You have my attention, Mr. Fei.”
Fei Long gestured to the corridor. “I believe it would be best to conduct this conversation in private, Captain,” he said with feeling.
Middleton nodded and they made their way to his ready room adjoining the bridge. Neither man spoke during the several minute trek until they had reached the ready room.
“So, tell me about this plan of yours,” the Captain urged as he sat down in his chair, and Fei Long did likewise opposite him.
Fei Long looked around warily before apparently resigning himself as he said, “I was indeed unjustly imprisoned, Captain, as I did not commit the crime for which I was punished…but that does not mean I did not plan to commit a crime which, if successful, would have been marked as a truly historic…even balance-of-power shifting point in this region’s history.” He sighed wistfully, “It was to be my masterpiece, but I have long feared my opportunity had disappeared…yet now, for the first time in two years, I believe it may be possible to complete!”
Captain Middleton’s eyebrows lowered thunderously. “Are you suggesting that I enable you to commit some sort of heinous, ‘historic’ crime as a member
of my crew?” he demanded, feeling his choler rise at the young man’s impertinence.
Fei Long held up his hands and shook his head, “Captain, you misunderstand. I assure you that the nature of my plan will prove vital, even if it is of a questionable legality—“
“Mr. Fei,” Middleton interrupted, feeling the nerves of the past day threatening to overwhelm his self-control, “you had better have a blasted good reason for suggesting something so brazen.”
“I have spent my entire life” Fei Long explained as his eyes drifted toward the floor, “in pursuit of this, my signature act, Captain Middleton—an act that would echo throughout history long after I am gone and my name is forgotten. I cannot apologize for this private quest because it has become as much a part of who I am as my arms, my legs, or my very skin. It would be, quite literally, my finest moment—and I would consider myself eternally in your debt should you assist me in facilitating it.”
Middleton stood from his chair and leaned forward, with his knuckles pressed to the desk until they turned white. “I’ve shown a great deal of leniency with you, Mr. Fei, in light of your myriad security infractions—and I’m only speaking to those perpetrated here on my ship!” he added hotly. “Your people locked you up and foisted you off on me for a good reason—a reason you still have yet to share with me, I might add. In light of that,” he glowered as he leaned even further over the wispy young man, “give me one good reason why I shouldn’t lock you in the brig for your openly nonconformist, blatantly unrepentant attitude and the threat you therefore pose to my ship?”
The boy’s eyes ceased drifting across the floor when Middleton finished, and his jaw took a hard set as he fixed the Captain with an unblinking, piercing look that likely would have made a younger Tim Middleton flinch. Fei Long then leaned forward fractionally and said in an impossibly matter-of-fact tone, “I can give you the ComStat network.”
Middleton actually had to replay in his mind what the young man had said several times before slowly lowering himself into his chair and meeting the boy’s stare unflinchingly. “Mr. Fei,” he said through gritted teeth, “you have my complete and undivided attention.”
Chapter XXXI: A New Plan
“How’s the head, Chief?” Middleton asked after Garibaldi, the last of the senior officers to arrive to the meeting, gingerly sat down in his chair.
The Chief made as if to touch the long, ragged line of reddened, Surgical Heal paste-assisted wound before wincing when his also-wounded arm rose to the level of his shoulder. Forcibly putting his hand down, he shook his head, “It’s fine, Captain.”
Middleton nodded, knowing that Garibaldi’s department had taken the worst losses during the attack. Making repairs to a combat-loaded power grid during live fire was one of the most dangerous assignments on a warship of any kind. But his old friend had surprised him with his initiative and results, and he reminded himself to reward the Engineering department in general, and Garibaldi in specific, as soon as their new mission was completed.
“We’ve been out here for several weeks now,” Middleton began as he swept the assembled officers with his gaze, “and you’ve all performed admirably. I’m proud that we’ve been able to do the things we’ve done; there are over a quarter million settlers safely awaiting evacuation due to your efforts, and though we’ve paid a price, I think we can all agree it was a price well worth paying.”
The looks of determination on the faces of his officers were something he actually had to stop and admire for a few moments, allowing his eyes to linger on Jo for a moment before turning and activating the screen behind himself.
“Until now, we’ve been running around in the dark,” Middleton began as he called up an overlay of the local systems, including Elysium. “We’ve managed to throw a wrench here and there into these pirates’ machinations, but it seems that there’s an even larger threat in these sectors than the pirates we’ve been dealing with. I must remind you all that the topic of this meeting is to be kept strictly confidential for the time being.”
“A bigger threat than these pirates, Captain?” Sarkozi asked in obvious surprise as everyone’s eyebrows rose in unison across the room—everyone’s except for Fei Long, Ensign Jardine, and Sergeant Joneson, that is.
“Yes, Ensign,” Middleton said matter-of-factly, “you heard me correctly: these pirates, however clever and well-outfitted, pale in comparison to the real threat facing Sectors 23 and 24.”
He activated an overlay for the local systems, which were clustered mostly on the Sector 23 side of the 23-24 border. The colors of the various system names shifted, with some turning green, some grey, and some red.
“Elysium is the nearest local Core World,” Middleton continued, “and with a population of one and a half billion, it’s one of the lesser-populated Core Worlds in the sector. But its strategic and economic value as a primary source of Trillium makes it worth easily twice as much as any other Core World in either sector to any force eyeing the region.”
Garibaldi leaned forward and raised his good hand awkwardly before asking, “If you’re saying the pirates aren’t the problem, and since we already know that the Empire’s bugged outta the Spine, who’s got the gonads—let alone the resources—to take on a Core World like Elysium? Her standing SDF makes every other defense force look like a Founding Parade contingent by comparison, and her wealth lets them deploy only top-of-the-line ships—unlike certain multi-national organizations to which we all may currently be party, but will for the time being remain nameless,” he added with his usual, sarcastic flair, causing a few soft snickers which were quickly quelled.
Middleton knew they would need the moment of brevity, given what he was about to show them, so he nodded and smiled tightly. “The systems in green,” he continued, “are confirmed to still be under the direct control of their lawful governments, while the systems in grey are as-yet unconfirmed.”
He allowed the deafening silence to fill the room until Garibaldi finally rolled his eyes. “All right, I’ll bite,” he said, waving his hand at the viewer, “what about the red ones?”
“The red systems,” Middleton replied evenly, zooming out the display to show a fairly damning picture of the local scene, “are now confirmed to be under the control of an as-yet undocumented droid force.”
A series of audible gasps escaped the lips of his senior officers, and Middleton knew he couldn’t blame them for their reaction. Oddly, Jo seemed unfazed by the revelation as she leaned forward and gestured to the viewer, “Do we know what they want?”
Middleton held back the first thing that came to his mind, since saying it would have been not only rude, but would have put unnecessary strain on their apparently-mending relationship. The relationship between a ship’s Captain and its Doctor, that is, he reminded himself silently as he turned to the viewer and gestured to the layout with a graphic pointer. “It would seem apparent, Doctor, that judging by the rapid, overwhelming nature of their attacks and the order in which these systems have been hit, this droid faction is intent on a complete takeover of Sector 23 and likely have similar designs on Sector 24.”
Jo looked like she wanted to say something else, but she bit her tongue and leaned back in her chair, causing Ensign Sarkozi to ask, “What kind of intel do we have on them? What kind of ships do they use, how many have been documented?”
Middleton held up a hand haltingly. “There are…mixed reports regarding their military assets, so for now we have to assume that they’re using a comprehensive assortment of ship types ranging from corvette-equivalent, to heavy cruiser.” He then switched the display over to the image of a perfect dodecahedron in front of a planet before turning to his officers pointedly, “I believe we’re already familiar with at least one of their ship types.”
As the officers digested that image, he populated the sidebar with radiation profiles. The first they had detected at the gas giant and the second was created just before they had been hammered by the one hundred meter, twelve-sided vessel escortin
g the cargo ships away from the hidden military supply cache. He then overlapped the second one with a reading taken by one of Elysium’s vessels a few systems deeper into Sector 23, and they were shown to be a near perfect match.
“I believe we’ve found our bogey,” he said grimly as realization swept across the room like flame in a hyperbaric chamber.
“But what about the other reading?” Jo asked, again surprising Middleton with her interest.
“The first radiation reading,” he said, flipping through a few images until coming to one of a rounded hull with several blister-shaped bulbs scattered across its surface, “is not identical, but similar enough to this ship’s that it was likely generated by a vessel of the same basic design.”
“Yeah, but Captain,” Garibaldi said while shaking his head, “I’ve been around high-energy reactions since the day I was born—I mean, my mom popped me out on top of a workbench sandwiched between a plasma injector and a hydrogen intake manifold, for Murphy’s sake. I’ve never seen these types of readings before; heck, I’ve never even heard about anything that can generate that much radiation so quickly.”
Middleton nodded knowingly, and he was glad that his people appeared to be processing this rather startling information so readily. “It’s a rare signature, Chief,” he allowed, “but I think Ensign Jardine might have the answer for you.”
Jardine nodded as he leaned forward with his hands gesticulating as he spoke, “I know this sounds far-fetched, but the Captain and I believe we’re dealing with antimatter-driven systems here. It fits too perfectly; not only does it generate the radiation profiles we’ve been seeing, but if the droids’ processors are properly shielded, that radiation would be as harmless to them as rain is to us.”
“I’m a Belter,” Garibaldi quipped darkly, “only rain we get is meteorite rain, and I can assure you there’s nothing harmless about a meteorite shower when it punches fifty three holes in your hab-module and you’ve gotta race to get your head bag on your kid sister before she suffocates.” Garibaldi shot Middleton a brief look as the two shared a painful memory from years before.
No Middle Ground (Spineward Sectors: Middleton's Pride) Page 29