"I must see Admiral Holt immediately," Gavin said to the senior aide as he entered the Admiral's outer office.
The aide verbally repeated the request to the com unit on his desk. A second later the com unit beeped as a message from the admiral appeared on his screen. "You may go in, Captain Gavin," the aide said.
The double doors to the Admiral's office slid open noiselessly as Gavin strode quickly down the short corridor. Admiral Holt was on his feet and walking briskly towards the doors as Gavin entered the office. Gavin's first impression was that the Admiral hadn't slept a wink in days. His face was haggard and drawn. Dark shadows underscored his eyes.
"Larry," the Admiral said, presenting a warm and genuine smile as he extended his hand, "thank providence you're here. You don't know how relieved I am that you've arrived before the Raiders. With Prometheus and Chiron bolstering our forces, perhaps we'll have a chance now."
Pumping the proffered hand, Gavin said, "Any sign of the Raider attackers, Admiral?"
"No, none. Not a peep from any of the sensors on the Distant DeTect grid."
"Let's hope it remains that way for another ten days. By then the Song and the four destroyers should be here. Have you assembled a senior staff to take command of the Song when she arrives?"
"I've prepared a list of officers. They won't actually assemble until the ship nears the station."
"Who will the Commanding Officer be?"
"Commander Harlan Acklee, of the Calgary. He's senior man on the Promotion Selection Board's list for Captain in this deca-sector. He understands that the position isn't permanent, and that he'll just be captain for the duration of the crisis, and then return to his ship."
Gavin sighed lightly. "Acklee. I've met him. He appears competent enough— but he's a bit of a stiff."
"Yes, he's a little too rigid and formal at times, and doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor, but Hoyt says that he's a good officer."
"Has he seen any action?"
"Unfortunately, no. Oh, he's been involved in some light interdiction activity, but it's all been strictly third-rate, amateur smuggler stuff. He's never come under fire."
Gavin scowled. "That's too bad. It would be nice to know how he'll bear up."
"Captains with battle experience are in very short supply. The Raiders have done a good job of avoiding contact with our warships in the past."
"I'm sure this is an all or nothing situation with the Raiders. They're going to be tough, and I expect them to throw everything they've got at us. We can't afford to have a new captain crack under the strain of battle." Looking away, as if in deep thought, Gavin said, "I don't suppose…"
After a few seconds of silence, Admiral Holt said, "Suppose what, Larry?"
Snapped out of his reverie, Gavin said, "I was trying to think of a way that we might leave Commander Carver in command of the Song until the battle is over. As much as I'd love to have her back aboard the Prometheus in case something happens to me, I'd rather have a battle seasoned officer commanding on the bridge of the Song. When it comes to a fight, she's as rock steady and cool as they come. Following the battle at Vauzlee I reviewed the bridge logs before I submitted my reports to SHQ. I was a little too preoccupied during the battle to notice her comportment, but in my review I discovered firsthand why the Vordoth crew nicknamed her the Ice Queen. Admiral, you wouldn't believe it. She just sat there in the first officer's chair on the bridge, calm as could be, glancing up at the monitor occasionally and sipping her coffee. It was as if she didn't have a care in the world. You'd have thought that we were running a simulation rather than being in a life or death struggle."
Admiral Holt chuckled. "I seem to recall a certain captain arguing with me recently, rather strenuously I might add, when informed that she was to be his acting first officer for the trip to Earth."
Gavin reddened slightly. "Okay, sir, I'm a big enough man to admit that I was wrong. Your assessment of her was completely accurate. If anything, she's even better than you stated."
"Well, I had an opportunity to review all the Intelligence interviews with the people she rescued and the crewmembers of the Vordoth. I saw the kind of loyalty she inspired in people that came under her command and protection. The statements from all the witnesses verified her accounts of the actions with the Raiders and her escape from the Raider Base. Never once did she try to embellish the account to make herself look better. If anything, she's too modest about her part in everything that happened, crediting much of it to luck. I sincerely wish that I could leave her in command of the Song, Larry. And not just for the battle, but permanently. It's not up to me though. You know that COAC has sole responsibility for assigning commanding officers to ships. Only the Admiralty Board can override their appointments, and they've already acknowledged that Commander Carver will surrender command to a more seasoned officer as soon as the ship arrives here."
"That's just the point, Admiral. Commander Carver is the most seasoned combat officer we have in the entire service."
"I meant seasoned as in years of command experience, not combat experience."
"Well— at least I'll get her back," Gavin said, then looked to the Admiral apprehensively. "I will be getting her back, won't I?"
"Of course, you will. It's where she wants to be more than anything. I'd love to have her here, in command of my planning staff, but she wouldn't like it. She's a line officer through and through. She wants— no, she needs to be on a warship. She won't be happy anywhere else."
"Has the War College come up with any new plans for the defense of the base?"
"No, they insist that every simulation they've run shows that Station Defense Plan Echo-Three provides the best overall defensive posture. Once the Raiders move in, they recommend Foxtrot-Five, followed by Bravo-Two."
"But the Raiders must have a copy of the manual. They're probably familiar with every established battle plan in it."
"Probably."
"Damn," Gavin said, "they'll be able to predict every move before we make it, and they'll have prepared a counter for each tactic. I wish Carver was here now. I'd love to hear her suggestions for the defense of this base. Her prediction of the Raider attack plan at Vauzlee was one hundred percent accurate. I bet there are a lot of noses severely out of joint at the War College."
"So I read in your report. You really think that her input would be that valuable?"
"Absolutely," Gavin said. "She displayed a level of insight that would make you believe she sat in on the Raider battle briefings, and then developed a unique battle plan that proved to be the perfect response. I think we could use some of that uniqueness here; something that the Raiders won't be expecting."
"Okay. There's still time, I suppose. Send her an encrypted message. Give her all the particulars and ask her for any suggestions she might have."
"Aye, Admiral," Gavin said grinning. "I will."
"I'd surely love to get some updated intel on Raider movements."
"As would I," Gavin said. "I half expected them to be here already. I kept praying that we'd make it here before they attacked. Perhaps they had to wait while the seven destroyers that managed to escape our attack at Vauzlee completed their repairs. We pounded them damn hard. With the loss of so many expected ships, the senior officer of their attack force might have decided that he needed every single vessel in top fighting trim."
"That's a good possibility. They know our people are dedicated, better trained, and that our ships are better armed and armored. They can only hope to defeat us through the sheer weight of numbers. They have to be able to attack us with heavier volleys of torpedoes than we can hope to shoot down."
"Since they expected so little opposition at Vauzlee, I think we should assume that their better ships were held in reserve for the attack on this base."
"That, also, is a good possibility, much as I hate to admit it. Intelligence has heard repeated rumors in recent years that the Raiders have been striving to upgrade their fighting forces. Their successful rai
d on the Mars' shipyard, where they managed to steal both the Prometheus and Chiron, would seem to bear that out. I imagine they've also been pressing the Tsgardi and Uthlaro to produce stronger, faster, and better armored warships."
"I'm sure you're right, sir," Gavin said. "While I doubt if the Tsgardi have made many technological advances beyond what they've stolen from the Flordaryns, the Uthlaro are a different matter entirely. They're intelligent, innovative, ruthless, and openly mercenary. I predict that one day our two civilizations will clash violently."
"Perhaps, Larry. I don't know. Fortunately they're so far beyond our borders that it probably won't happen in our lifetimes."
"I don't know, sir. Our ships keep getting faster, and I expect they're making similar advances. But that's of secondary import right now. I'd better get back to my ship. I want to undock as soon as possible. I don't want to be maneuvering for clearance when the Raiders arrive. I just wanted to check in with you to see if you'd heard anything new."
"I'm delighted that you're here, Larry. I might actually get a little sleep now."
* * *
Jenetta awoke unsure of where she was. She had gone to sleep in her warm relaxing bed, but now found herself lying on an ice-cold slab of plasticrete. Strangely, she still appeared to be in her bedroom.
"Lights," she said to the computer and the room illuminated.
She pushed herself up onto one arm and felt the gel-comfort mattress with the other. It was as hard and cold as the flight bay deck.
Thinking that she might have said something during her sleep that altered the bed settings, she said, "Computer, adjust bed to my default settings."
"Unable to comply," the computer said in her CT. "No local adjustment of bed settings is permitted."
"Computer, I am the captain of this vessel and I order you to override that command and permit local adjustments."
"Unable to comply," the computer said.
Jenetta sighed and swung her legs over the edge of the block of stone that an hour before had been a warm, comfortable sleeping platform. According to the wall chronometer, it was 0212. She had just put on her robe and slippers when she heard a light knock at her bedroom door. It could only be one person.
"Come," she said and the door slid open.
"Excuse me, Captain," Woodrow said. "Lt. Commander Rodriquez just called to apologize. He says that every bed on board the ship has turned into a solid slab of stone. He has his people working on the problem, and hopes to restore local control of bed adjustments shortly."
"Our saboteur again, I suppose?"
"Yes, Captain. In the meantime, might I suggest that you use one of the sofas in your sitting room? It will only take me a minute to make one up as a bed."
"Thank you, Woodrow. That would be preferable to trying to sleep on a plasticrete mattress."
"Just give me one minute, Captain."
Woodrow prepared the temporary bed while Jenetta watched. He had already brought sheets and a light blanket from somewhere. It took him less than minute.
"Where are you going to sleep, Woodrow?"
"I have a sofa in my quarters, Captain. I'll be fine."
"Very well, Woodrow. Thank you."
"Good night, Captain."
"Good night, Woodrow."
* * *
The bed problem had been resolved by the time Jenetta was awakened with a ringing sound in her head. She sat up on the sofa and cupped her left ear. The noise seemed to be originating in her CT. She pressed the face of her Space Command ring and said, "Carver out," to disengage the carrier, but the signal persisted. The wall chronometer in her sitting room indicated that it was 0452. Jenetta had just risen to her feet when Woodrow entered the room.
"Commander Rodriquez just called, Captain," her steward said. "It appears that the saboteur has gotten into the CT and ID systems module. Our people are trying to locate the problem and restore the proper coding."
"Damn, that could take hours. Is everyone on board affected, or only me?"
"It appears to be a system wide problem. I'm hearing a strange ringing sound in my left ear."
"Contact Commander Rodriquez and tell him to manually disconnect the carrier signal transmitter until his people find the problem in the code. It's better to lose the system for a while than to have everyone get a splitting headache."
"Aye, Captain."
"Oh, and Woodrow, tell him to have his people check to see if any frequency was exempted. If the saboteur excluded himself, it may tell us who he is."
"Aye, Captain."
Five minutes later the ringing in her head suddenly stopped, but Jenetta was too awake to fall back asleep so she showered and dressed. Woodrow had her breakfast ready when she emerged from her bedroom.
* * *
"Captain," Jenetta heard in her CT, "we have another problem." She instantly recognized the voice of Lieutenant Risco. The CT and ID systems had been restored by 0730.
Jenetta sighed, closed the report she was reading, and pushed down the cover of her com unit. As she emerged from her briefing room she was pleased to see that no one on the bridge appeared overly concerned. The problem couldn't be a serious one.
"What is it, Lieutenant," Jenetta asked as she reached her command chair.
Risco, presently sitting in the First Officer's chair, said, "All transport tubes and lifts have suddenly stopped operating."
"All of them?" Jenetta asked in surprise.
"Yes, ma'am. Every single one."
"Have you notified Commander Rodriquez?"
"Yes, ma'am, but he can't do anything at the moment. He's trapped in a transport tube car on Deck Five, back near Section Two-Sixty-Eight."
"Does he have a theory about the problem?"
"Yes, ma'am. He says that it has to be a problem with the transport system module in the main computer. Most likely it's the work of our computer saboteur again. He's dispatched people to start investigating, but says it will take time for them to track down the affected code. He'll join them as quickly as possible, but that probably won't be for another twenty to thirty minutes. He has to get out of the transport car, find an access hatch, and then use zero-grav tubes to reach Engineering."
Jenetta sucked in a deep breath and then expelled it quickly to show her exasperation. "If I ever get my hands on the person responsible for all these computer problems, I'm going to personally wring his neck."
Risco suppressed a grin. Since no one had been hurt, yet, and there was no present danger to the ship with this latest problem, she could afford to be personally amused by the problem. Her cat hadn't been harmed by the erratic action of the laundry bots. Simone had simply hidden beneath the sofa until the room was cleared.
Jenetta turned towards the bridge doors and said, "I'll be in Engineering." Then she stopped, turned again and said, "Cancel that. If a serious problem occurs while the tubes and lifts are down, I may not be able to get back here in a timely manner. I'll be in my briefing room."
* * *
Since the inception of Space Command, its vessels have always employed four separate and distinct onboard computer systems. Life Support, Propulsion, and Weapons Control computers, while fully integrated with the ship, are standalone systems with no interfaces to each other or to the Main Computer System. Engineers tend to describe these three systems as ‘simple' because most their functions are ‘burned' into circuit rods. Little tampering is possible.
Life Support is responsible for monitoring and adjusting air temperature heating and cooling systems, water heating and recycling functions, and air purification and regeneration. Thousands of sensors located throughout the ship constantly monitor system operations. While someone can possibly tap into a local loop and modify individual parameters for a specific location, it's impossible to remotely adjust them beyond established ‘comfort' settings. Only from within the ship's highly secure Main Engineering Section can the system or specific locations be deactivated or seriously affected.
The Weapons Control system, whi
le capable of performing complex computations and tasks on demand, is similarly tamper-proof. It has a specific job and performs its functions within the tightly controlled parameters of its mission. Code changes require the replacement of circuit rods with the new programming ‘burned' into memory circuits.
Propulsion is the third ‘simple' system. Operational access is limited to consoles on the bridge and AC&C. Like the other two systems, it's isolation makes it almost invulnerable to loss of control from hacking efforts within the ship, or by outside efforts.
All other shipboard functions are handled by various modules within the Main Computer. Although user ‘rights' are strictly and carefully apportioned through IDs & passwords, the system is accessible by anyone with the proper user interface hardware.
* * *
Jenetta plopped down in her chair and stared at her desk's surface after leaving the bridge to Risco. The saboteur was stirring anger in her like the anger she had felt when she awoke in the Raider cell and first discovered the slave imprint that she still wore on her chest. Whoever the individual was, she intended to find him; if only she knew where to look.
As if by divine enlightenment, she suddenly realized where she should have been looking all along. She activated the large wall monitor opposite her desk and removed a wireless computer keyboard from her desk. The tightly furled floppy membrane resembled a holo-tube when in it's storage state. It instantly rolled out flat on her desktop as she removed the Velcro band, and activated as soon as she touched the proper contact spot near the top, left hand corner.
Jenetta knew that the saboteur must be leaving some evidence of his hacks in the computer. Perhaps one would point Jenetta in the proper direction. Although she was the ship's captain, high level systems access privileges had never been established for her in the main computer. Ship captains normally either didn't have time for playing around inside computers, or weren't sufficiently computer literate or inclined to do so. Jenetta Carver was both able and so inclined, but she hadn't had the time since coming aboard the Song.
Valor At Vauzlee Page 21