Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1)

by Isaac Hooke

  "Oh, but I think we can," Jonathan said. "Since it's not a human being."

  "But we would hope the aliens would treat our own captives with the same dignity and respect," Robert said.

  Jonathan assumed Robert was referring to the theory that the Selene's crew had been taken prisoner. He sighed. "Your optimistic nature is returning. That's good, I think."

  "It definitely is," Robert replied.

  Jonathan extended his noise canceler around the commander. "I only hope it's not misplaced. You mentioned a containment plan. How, exactly, are we planning on holding the alien? When I was in the brig, the intruder was literally darkness embodied: a black mist that flowed through the air."

  "The chief scientist and her men have been poring over the data from the Centurions, and the drones," Robert said. "They've concluded that the being is constrained by ordinary spatial dimensions. They've created a glass-walled receptacle to hold it. No ventilation, since the alien can survive in the void. In theory that should be enough to contain the thing."

  Jonathan wasn't entirely convinced but he couldn't ignore the opportunity to study one of the aliens firsthand. He deemed the risk worthwhile. "I want the containment properties thoroughly tested beforehand. You said 'it should contain the thing.' I want that changed to, 'it will contain the thing.' We don't need the creature breaking out while on board."

  Robert nodded. "Agreed. The scientists will brief us at oh nine hundred, but I'll relay your concerns to them immediately."

  "Good." He canceled the silence field and asked the ensign: "Is that it, Lewis?"

  "There is one more thing, Captain," Lewis said. "Analysis of the battle footage has revealed that the alien ships slowed down during their attack to capture one of our disabled Avengers. It was a manned fighter."

  "Manned, you say?" Jonathan asked.

  "Yes. The aliens have the pilot, Lieutenant Commander Jason Wolf, and his copilot Lieutenant Lin Akido."

  So when the commander mentioned prisoners of war earlier, he hadn't actually meant the Selene's crew after all.

  "That's unfortunate," Jonathan said. "Thoughts, Robert?"

  "I'm not sure there's anything we can do for them," Robert said. "We can't justify risking more lives to spring the pair. Assuming we could even get a MOTH team aboard, there's a good chance such a team would simply become hostages themselves. If we could prove that there were more than two prisoners, say, the crewmen from the Selene as well, then a rescue attempt might be justified."

  Jonathan tapped his lips. "Agreed. Until we can get some confirmation that the Selene's crew is still alive, I'm reluctant to dedicate resources to any sort of rescue operation for Wolf and Akido alone."

  "What happened to no one gets left behind, sir?" Ensign Lewis said.

  The captain glanced at the naive ensign and was momentarily stunned when he saw porcelain-skinned Famina sitting at the ops station.

  "Sir?" Lewis repeated.

  He blinked and the vision was gone.

  Jonathan smiled bitterly. "Welcome to the real world, Ensign. Where the whimsical notions of honor, courage and commitment hammered into your head during bootcamp no longer apply."

  The entire bridge crew was looking at him.

  Jonathan realized what he had said was bad for morale, so he decided to add: "You'll have to excuse me if I'm a bit disillusioned, people. Being thrown into the brig for disobeying an order that goes against everything I stand for will do that." He glanced at the ensign. "You never know, maybe we can find a way to resolve this diplomatically once we have our alien hostage aboard. An exchange. The alien for Wolf and Akido." Assuming the scientists could even figure out how to communicate with the species. Having one aboard for study was a good start, though.

  "Yes, sir," Lewis said.

  "How long until we're ready to get under way, Ensign?"

  "Rescue operations and crew assignments should be complete in under twelve hours," the ensign answered. "Containment of the alien should be concluded in half that time."

  Jonathan exchanged a glance with his first officer. "That gives me a chance to catch up on a few things. Robert, Miko, join me in my office."

  * * *

  The two-dimensional video feed hovered in front of Jonathan at a viewing distance and angle best suited to him. Seated before him, Robert and Miko observed the same feed at similarly optimal angles on their own aReals.

  Jonathan and the two men had re-watched portions of the previous battle, as logged by the lightfield cameras on the bridge, pausing at key points to discuss the tactics and thought processes behind the decisions the commander made. When that was done, they had moved on to the footage captured by the external cameras to study the fate of Task Unit One.

  The video was currently near the tail-end of the latter recording. The Hurricane limped between the encroaching alien capital ship and the Fortitude in a valiant effort to protect the planet-killer ship. Both the Hurricane and alien vessel appeared heavily damaged by that point, while the damage to the Fortitude seemed only minor in comparison. Fighters swarmed around both human ships—half were alien, the remainder were Avengers.

  The capital ship suddenly fired its particle beam. Because of the relatively high speed and opposite motion vectors of both vessels, the Hurricane was utterly sliced in half.

  Dedicated to the mission to the end, Jonathan thought. He had to give the admiral some credit. Knox did fight, all out, to accomplish his orders, however unprincipled said directives might have been.

  The damaged alien capital ship closed on the Fortitude. As did one of the dart ships. The destroyer only fired three aft Vipers in defense—the remaining heavy beam turrets were likely damaged. The Fortitude didn't launch any rear missiles: presumably it had expended them all by that point.

  The dart ship returned fire, launching a weakened version of its particle beam. It was enough to eliminate the remaining heavy turrets.

  The alien capital ship meanwhile deployed some kind of grappling hook, wrapping long black tendrils around the Fortitude. Those tendrils reminded Jonathan of the mist-like darkness he had seen aboard.

  The video log ended moments later with a bright flash.

  The three officers sat back, rendered speechless by what they had just witnessed.

  "The robot crew of the Fortitude obviously had instructions to detonate the weapon," Miko said.

  "Probably a good idea," Jonathan said. "Rather than allowing the planet killer to fall into enemy hands."

  "Do you think the aliens detected the bomb?" Robert said. "Despite the shielding we put around it?"

  Miko nodded. "I would say it's highly possible. We don't know what their technology is capable of, after all. Although... they might have attacked the Fortitude merely on instinct: they do seem drawn to the targets we're obviously protecting. You saw how they turned their attention on the Selene, Grimm and Marley in the last battle."

  "I wonder if we could use that to our advantage?" Jonathan said.

  Miko nodded. "Possibly. When are we planning our next engagement?"

  Jonathan activated the tactical display on his aReal in "shared" mode, and floated it between the three of them. "The two alien ships are continuing on course for 1-Vega, apparently to rendezvous with the remaining vessel in the system. It seems obvious they want to prevent us from leaving, and from communicating with NAVCENT. If we want to go home, we'll have to clear the enemy away from that Slipstream and build ourselves a Gate.

  "So in answer to your question, Miko, our next engagement is as soon as possible. We'll be leaving the moment local rescue operations are complete. Review this footage and the footage of the previous battle as many times as it takes. I want you and Maxwell to come up with some potential strategies long before we reach the enemy."

  "What about repairs?" Robert said.

  "We can't afford to delay. We repair while under way. The longer it takes us to reach them, the more time the aliens have to effect their own repairs."

  "What about the Marley?" Rob
ert said. "Given the damage the Builder has sustained, she'll never keep up with the rest of us."

  "She'll have to stay behind then," Jonathan said. "It's probably better that way, anyway. She's the last ship we want damaged in the battle to come."

  They exchanged comments and ideas like that for a few more minutes, then Jonathan dismissed the men.

  Miko left immediately. The commander, however, lingered.

  "Can I see you in private for a moment, Captain?" Robert said, still seated. His voice had an uneasiness about it that made Jonathan wary.

  "Certainly," Jonathan told him. "How's Bridgette, by the way?"

  "Very good."

  "Glad to hear it. She's a good wife. The best. So. What's on your mind?"

  "Is there something going on between you and my wife?" Robert asked without preamble.

  Jonathan felt his brow furrow. "I'm not sure I know what you mean."

  "She was in the brig with you when the attack came."

  Jonathan chuckled, thinking Robert was playing some strange joke. But the commander remained dead serious.

  Jonathan dismissed his grin. "She didn't want to be alone, Robert. That's all. We talked. That's it. Review the logs. They're public."

  "Those logs are public, yes. But what about the sleeping pods in the berthing area? Nothing spoken inside them can be recorded, not if the aReals are turned off."

  "I think," Jonathan said. "That if I had visited your berthing area at any time in the past six months, I would be noticed. Consider for a moment what you're implying. It's a ludicrous proposition."

  "Not so ludicrous if you came disguised," Robert pressed. "With instructions for Maxwell to delete the logs."

  "Robert, I—"

  "She's seemed so very distant, lately," the commander interrupted him. "I've wondered why. And now I know: you're having some sort of sexual relationship with Bridgette."

  Jonathan couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had expected the commander to share his uncertainties over some facet of his command, perhaps his doubts about facing the alien enemy once more, or his trouble in disciplining a crew member. But this?

  "Robert. I assure you, I am not having a sexual relationship with your wife. I would never do such a thing. That you even think I would, well, it greatly lowers my opinion of you. And it's damn insulting, frankly."

  Robert cocked his head as if listening to something on his earpiece. His face became very pale. "Maxwell says you're telling the truth."

  "Of course I'm telling the truth," Jonathan said, knowing how well the AI could read body language, heart rate, and perspiration levels in response to a question or accusation.

  Robert rubbed his face. "I'm sorry sir. I've obviously made a very big mistake. I don't know why I ever thought you were seeing my wife behind my back. It's just, I've been under incredible stress lately."

  "We all have," Jonathan said. "Still, that's no excuse to level such a damning accusation. You say she's been distant, lately? You might want to have a long talk with your wife sometime. She's pregnant, Robert. And she's thinking about having an abortion."

  Robert seemed stunned. "I didn't know that."

  "Yes," Jonathan said. "And by telling you, I just violated the trust she placed in me. So you can rest assured that she'll never come to me again. That should prove a great comfort to you in the days to come. Now is there anything else, Commander?"

  "No, Captain."

  "Then you are dismissed."

  "Yes Captain." Robert stood. "I'm sorry Captain."

  Jonathan nodded distractedly.

  When the captain had the office to himself, he shook his head.

  Sexual relations with the wife of my first officer? Never!

  Jonathan sat back, struggling to contain his outrage. He could use that feeling, actually. Funnel it toward another matter that needed dealing with.

  "So, Maxwell," he told the AI. "I hope you enjoyed that little show."

  "I did not, Captain," Maxwell said.

  "Well and good, well and good." He steepled his fingers and tapped them together. "So. I'm not in the brig anymore. What do you think of that?"

  "It is beneficial to the task group. You are the most qualified to lead."

  "Oh really?" He felt the anger rise inside him. "Now all of a sudden I'm the most qualified."

  "Yes. With the loss of the admiral and his task unit, the continuity of command protocol firmly places you in charge."

  "But wasn't my arrest a standing order?"

  "It was. But when Captain Rodriguez of the Dagger assumed command of the task group after the battle, he ordered you reinstated immediately. Due to your seniority, you are now the flagship commander. Protocol was rigorously observed throughout the process."

  "Well that's damn good to know that protocol was observed to your satisfaction. But tell me something, AI." He put a particularly distasteful emphasis on the word. "Did you ever pause to consider the ramifications of your actions? No matter how grounded in code and in law, what you did resulted in the death of the admiral and his crew, as well as those of the escort vessels. Ten thousand lives, in total. If you had allowed me or Captain Avis to take command before, instead of arresting me, none of this would have happened."

  "You cannot be certain," Maxwell said. "In fact, the losses of the fleet could have been even greater in your hands."

  "No, Maxwell. They would not have been greater. I would have used the Fortitude against the enemy. I would have decisively won the engagement." He cleared his throat. "What I tell you now, I tell you because I want you to know where I stand: I place the blame for all those deaths firmly on your virtual shoulders."

  "My actions were completely within the guidelines of my programming," Maxwell said. "I prevented a mutiny and helped enact the latest order from NAVCENT. What happened after that was out of my control."

  "Which is exactly why you should have never circumvented my authority in the first place. Your actions were wrong, Maxwell, and only compounded the errors made by the admiral. The only reason I haven't had you deactivated and reformatted already is because I need you in the upcoming battle. But don't get me wrong, when we return to dry dock I'm having your processing units physically removed from my ship and transferred into a toaster. The only protocols you'll ever enforce again will be related to the browning of bread."

  Maxwell paused a moment. And then: "I'm sure I will make an excellent toaster, sir."

  twenty-four

  Wearing his combat jumpsuit, Rade marched behind the Praetor and two Centurions that had been sent in to retrieve the alien from the wreckage. The lead robots carried the containment device. During the earlier briefing with the scientists, the captain had emphasized his doubt regarding the glass container's ability to hold the alien, despite the reassurances from the scientists. Captain Dallas said he didn't want to lose any more crew members, not when robots would suffice. Rade had agreed, and he'd volunteered to personally escort the robots to their supposedly injured target. His plan was to oversee the operation from the rear so that when the geyser of shit erupted, he would be the first one out of there.

  The passageways inside the severed wing section of the alien ship were intact, for the most part. Artificial gravity proved absent: variable-strength supermagnets inside their boots held the fireteam to the deck. The strength of the magnets was determined by the pressure applied to the sole of a given boot; Rade had to purposely force one foot down, and once the boot contacted the deck, it was literally sucked in. When it was time to release that foot to take the next step, he'd have to yank extra hard before it came free. Those magnets were stronger than those found in standard spacesuit boots, and they made walking awkward—the feeling was similar to trudging through mud. Still, it was something he was well-accustomed to thanks to the countless hours of practice in the vacuum sim.

  The helmet lamps revealed a cylindrical metallic hallway covered in strange symbols. The fit was tight, and the group had to travel in single file. Rade had the video feed from th
e foremost robot piped into the upper right of his HUD, providing situational awareness from the front. He knew the captain and first officer were also watching the various feeds from the comfort of the Callaway's bridge.

  The passageway curved to the right. Seven meters ahead, at the terminus, the alien darkness resided. Without gravity, the amorphous mass floated roughly in the center between the deck and overhead, its wispy tendrils brushing the bulkheads on either side, vaguely reminding Rade of a toy energy ball.

  Again he wondered how the creature survived without an atmosphere. The scientists were convinced the murk concealed a creature of flesh and blood inside. Perhaps that darkness was an environmental suit of some kind, protecting the actual alien within from the void as well as shielding it from plasma and laser weapons.

  Rade waited around the bend as the robots approached. Via his HUD, he switched his main feed to the Praetor's point of view, keeping the lead robot's output in the upper right.

  About three meters away from the alien, the robots lowered the container. A small gap existed underneath the lower pane of glass and the deck, due to the circular nature of the bulkheads and the rectangular shape of the container. The lead Centurion lay flat on the deck while the second robot shoved the container forward over its body—the first robot fit easily inside the aforementioned gap, and soon resided entirely underneath the container.

  At that point the second robot accessed a control panel on the back and manually keyed-in a code. The far side of the container folded open toward the darkness.

  The robot began flashing its headlamp in a pattern of photonic bursts that matched the frequency and brightness of similar eruptions from the darkness. If that didn't draw the creature out, they were instructed simply to slide the container over the thing: because of the tight confines of the passageway, the mist would have no other option but to move into the container.