Slight murmurs began around the room followed by several shaking of heads gave the admiral his answer. Admiral Grant touched a control on the podium terminal and deactivated the screen. “Very well, this meeting is adjourned. Captain Hood, we expect the rest of your recommendations by day’s end.”
As the meeting attendees began to stand up and depart, Hood slumped back into his chair and stared at the files displayed on his data pad screen. Reaction to his choices had gone just as he had expected, but the whole experience left him drained. He closed the files, deactivated his access key, sat back into his seat and ran his hands through this hair.
Hood heard a clatter from the seat next to him and turned to see Colonel Becker place her hand on her data pad, which she had deliberately dropped on her desk. Becker lifted an eyebrow and turned to gaze one eye at Hood. “You believe all that b.s. you were telling everyone a few minutes ago?”
“It’s not b.s., Colonel,” Hood replied sternly to her challenge. To his surprise, Becker almost laughed and the brief moment of levity allowed Hood to ask a few questions of his own. “So what was your take on this mission? Any suggestions?”
“Before I answer, I need a drink and bite to eat, and from the look of it, so do you,” Becker answered as she stood and stretched.
Hood perked up at the notion of food. “I know a little place just down the way from here, good burgers.”
“Listen, Captain, my station, my choice, and the burgers at that place are awful. Bernard’s Bar near my office serves the best Rueben sandwiches in any station of the EDF, and I’ve seen a lot of them.” She picked up her data pad and started walking down the row toward the exit, “Come on and you’re buying.”
* * *
Bernard’s Bar and Deli to the passerby was a busy establishment. One could easily smell the savory aroma flowing from the main kitchen which was rich with scents of a variety of deli meats, but most notable among them was Bernard’s signature item: sauerkraut.
Just outside the deli were several bistro tables setup in a small corral with a plastic white fence area separating it from the rest of the main thoroughfare on the station’s promenade. Hood brought his plate and steaming cup of coffee to the table occupied by Colonel Becker and sat down to join her.
Becker was already enjoying her Rueben sandwich and had nearly consumed it by the time Hood was able to get situated in his own seat. Hood watched in amusement as Becker set down the small section that remained of her sandwich and took several sips of her drink to wash down the food she has just inhaled.
Becker lifted her head up from her drink and gave Hood a questioning look. “What? I was hungry.”
Hood slowly shook his head and put his hands up defensively. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Uh-huh,” Becker mumbled as she wiped her mouth were her napkin. “After all that uproar at the briefing, I’ve been dying to ask. Why Whitaker? Surely you could have found someone qualified for that post.”
Hood nodded. “True, but with a new ship like the Armstrong, I wanted to find someone with true out of the box thinking. When I went into the briefing, I was prepared to talk about my new ship supporting the efforts at Barnard’s Star. That operation, until now, had the highest possibility of us encountering the Cilik’ti, and I needed all the best options on the table. With the Armstrong headed to deep space, I’m confident I’m going to need him.”
“Yeah, I could see your reasoning there,” she said with a nearly half-hearted tone in her voice. “It sounds like you have a handle on the rest of your people, so are you missing anyone?”
“Now that you mention it, I am going to need a good Air Boss. My last one on the Orion was about to retire, and I haven’t really seen one yet I think fits the bill and would be willing to leave their current posting and come on board. I need someone that can really handle all these young hot shot fighter pilots the academy is putting out. Have any ideas?”
Becker leaned back in her chair and smiled. “As luck would have it, there is one that comes to mind, and he’s on the station right now. Lieutenant Commander Hugh Walsh is on leave, and his transport to Earth has been delayed for a few days. The rumor going around is he plans to transfer off the Vincennes in the next few months. He might be right up your alley, but I hear he can be a real hard ass.”
“Where’s he staying?” Hood asked.
“He was put up in the apartment wing. I can get you his room if you want to look him up.”
“I will, but I need to get his file and forward that on to Admiral Grant first.”
Becker picked up the rest of her sandwich and stuffed it in her mouth. “Going out there to protect those colonists is going to require ground forces. Who do you plan to command them?” she asked as she chewed.
“I was pondering that on the way over here from the meeting. I had a small list of potentials for troop commanders anyway, but those are usually assigned by EDF Marine command. I did find one of interest.” He took back his data pad from Becker and sorted the files to the one he was looking for. “Here it is. Major Arlen McGregor.”
Becker started to choke. She coughed for few more seconds, until she caught her breath and looked at Hood with an expression of utter shock. “You’re not serious?”
“He has an impressive record against the Cilik’ti and is a veteran of the Mars invasion. He knows how to fight them and how to survive. We are going to need both if we have to help defend the colonists.”
“Trust me, you don’t want him. He’s a good marine, but he’s arrogant, self-centered, bossy and prone to drinking.”
“Sounds like you know him?” Hood asked.
“Know him? I was married to him for six years!” Becker exclaimed.
Hood mumbled under his breath, “Sounds like you two had a lot in common.”
“What?” Becker asked rather irritated.
Hood shook his head. “Nothing.”
“Keep your opinions to yourself, Captain. As for Arlen, I suggest you look at another candidate, because he’s currently unavailable.”
“I noticed that. He was thrown in the brig for assaulting his superior officer.” Hood wiped his mouth again with his napkin. “I reviewed the case file, and I’m not sure I would have done anything different,” he stated bluntly.
Becker calmed herself and leaned forward until her nose was only a few centimeters from Hood’s. “Listen. I don’t know what you have heard, but it wasn’t the real story about Arlen’s ‘incident.’ Command assigned a new CO for his brigade that came straight out of logistics. The man had no field experience, so my guess he was a political appointment.”
Becker relaxed slightly. “Arlen’s troops were searching a series of caves near Tarsus Base on Mars for some neutronium pirates that were hitting the mines. The whole place was booby trapped, and that fool Colonel ordered them right into it against every suggestion Arlen gave him to properly recon the place. Arlen lost over half his Marines and one of his oldest buddies in the Corps in the resulting cave-ins. You can imagine that it didn’t sit too well with him.”
“So that’s when he punched him?”
“No, he went and got drunk first. Blasted Scot. He should have brought the issue up through the chain of command and not gone off all half-cocked and assaulted him.”
“I’ll talk to Admiral Tramp and see if we can work something out. I understand the seriousness of the charges, but there are mitigating circumstances that we can state.”
Becker shook her head. “Be careful. That Colonel had cover and besides, Arlen is trouble. You sure you want him?”
“I’ve dealt with worse. Besides, I have a feeling I’m going to need him.”
Chapter Four
EDF Armstrong
Wednesday, January 15
Earth Year 2155
Hood concluded his first log entry since taking command of the Armstro
ng and turned off the recorder on his cabin’s desk. He turned around and looked out the viewport. Mars Station hung in silence, and he could see several smaller shuttles and transports moving back and forth from the ship and the station.
EDF Command had already ordered the modifications of the Armstrong to begin, and parts for the new particle cannon were starting to arrive. Admiral Tramp informed him a few hours earlier that the first of the gunships to be assigned to the Armstrong would arrive in the morning, a full day ahead of schedule. Hood was eager to see how the gunships would attach and deploy and was grateful that their added firepower and defensive capabilities would be coming along. He had seen the effectiveness that Cilik’ti drones had in combat. During those engagements, fighter and point defense screens were just not enough to deter them.
The communication panel of the terminal in his desk chirped with a short trill sound. Hood reached over and opened the comm channel. “Hood here.”
A young female voice came over the speaker. “Captain. Admiral Tramp’s shuttle is about to arrive. You asked to be notified.”
“Yes, thank you. Tell the admiral I will meet him in the docking bay. Hood out.”
Hood grabbed his uniform jacket from his bed and quickly put it on. He opened his cabin door and had to duck as a technician carrying a large conduit nearly struck him in the forehead. The tall burly technician looked back and offered a quick apology as he continued down the hall.
Hood just politely waved him on and turned the other way toward the elevator lift. As he approached the lift, the door hissed open, and Hood walked inside.
A rather bland feminine voice asked, “Destination please?” EDF Command had spent tremendous resources on system interaction with ship crews to improve efficiency. The system name was codenamed “Vicki” by EDF R&D and was short for Voice Interactive Computer and Knowledge Interface. Hood often wondered whose voice was the model for the system, but the same voice could speak every known human language with no regional accent.
“Docking bay three,” Hood responded to the computer’s question.
Hood felt the momentum of the elevator immediately shift and grasped the rail to compensate for the change. The lift car moved quickly and smoothly through the decks and soon arrived at the primary docking bay level. The doors opened, and Hood stepped out into the main docking bay corridor which was extremely crowded with various types of technicians and several crates of equipment.
The walls of the corridor next to each docking bay were transparent, and Hood saw that Admiral Tramp’s shuttle had already landed, and that the main exterior doors of the bay had closed for re-pressurization.
The EDF shuttle had evolved greatly over the last twenty years, but their function for carrying passengers and smaller cargo loads hadn’t changed. The new Icon class shuttle that delivered Admiral Tramp to the Armstrong sported many of the same modifications that were added to shuttles after the start of the Cilik’ti invasion, but with some distinct upgrades. The Icon shuttles were fitted with light neutronium armor, and a point defense cannon mounted in a revolving turret for fighter/drone deterrence was added to the bottom of the craft.
Hood remembered the weapon upgrade. The shuttle pilots on his ship raved about it. During the war, the Icon shuttles were the primary rescue/recovery craft for pilots. The older versions of the shuttles only had a cannon mounted on the top and more often than not, it wasn’t a strong enough deterrent for Cilik’ti fighter drones.
The Armstrong’s new captain was happy to see the tractor beam mounted near the lower pressure hatch. Getting to downed pilots fast in a firefight saved lives. If the shuttles could pull them in faster, it made their rescue success rate even better. He had recommended that upgrade to EDF Command and the change had thrust the shuttle into a new role: salvaging. Salvage operations had reclaimed a tremendous amount of equipment over the years, and during the war, gave the EDF access to some Cilik’ti technology as well.
Hood knew the admiral would be traveling alone and was surprised to see such a large shuttle arrive. He understood the desire for security and protection for the admiral, but there were smaller personnel shuttles available. The Icons were the largest shuttles in the fleet and were built to carry up to ten passengers and four crew members, but Hood quickly remembered Admiral Tramp’s repeated record of grand standing. He certainly wouldn’t miss an opportunity to fly around in a huge armored shuttle as the only passenger. It would be the perfect opportunity to show off.
After navigating through the obstructed walkway, Hood arrived at the access door to the docking bay just as the pressure door condition light changed to green, indicating re-pressurization was complete and it was safe for entry. Hood pulled down on the large metal handle that was across the door then pulled backward to open it. He could feel a quick rush of air hit his face when the door opened. Even with the bay’s re-pressurization, there was still a slight pressure difference between the bay and the corridor.
Hood stepped through the door and noticed that the ramp of the shuttle had already lowered, and the docking bay began to echo with the sounds of footsteps. Hood caught sight of Admiral Tramp descending the metallic ramp and waited for him by the door. The admiral nearly tripped at the end of the ramp and tried to mask it with a quick jog. He approached Hood and his face was all a smile. “That was embarrassing, James. How would I explain to the grandkids that Gramps broke a hip falling off a shuttle ramp?”
“I’m sure you could spin it into an injury in the line of duty, Admiral.” Hood laughed.
Admiral Tramp laughed with him and handed Hood a sealed package. “True. I could spin it, but it would still hurt like hell. Here is your staffing response from Command. I thought it would be best if I came here and presented it myself. Go ahead and open it.”
Hood gestured for the admiral to take a seat at one of the benches along the back wall of the docking bay near the cargo access doors. Both men sat down. Hood began to unseal the package then removed the data pad inside.
“You made some real convincing arguments for your requests, James. It was difficult to find fault for any of them.” Admiral Tramp chuckled. “Raf Sanchez, your new XO, is a good fit, but I bet you ruffled your buddy Styles’ feathers by stealing away his right hand on the Cestus.”
Hood shook his head. “I spoke with Styles beforehand and he recommended him. If Styles trained him, I’m sure he and I can work together.”
“I’m sure you will,” Tramp said reassuringly. The admiral looked down at his feet for a moment and his pause made Hood feel a bit uneasy. “However, there are some consequences with a few of your selections, I’m afraid.”
Hood leafed through the files on the data pad and looked back at the admiral. “What kind of consequences?”
“Epherium ones for example. Asking for Whitaker set off a firestorm back home. It took some real wrangling, but we came to an agreement with their executives. You got him, but a team of Epherium corporate types are coming along.”
“Why?”
“Well they believe that the colony ships are their investment, and they should be involved on the trip. Plus, I’m certain Epherium wants to keep tabs on their ‘Golden Boy’ engineer.”
“I figured as much. Who are they sending?”
Tramp stretched his arms over his head and rolled his head from side to side. Hood could hear a few pops from his neck. The admiral issued a gasp of relief and sat back on the bench. “Those shuttle seats are just too uncomfortable. Anyway, Epherium says they are sending no more than four, but McCraken asked to be included.”
“McCraken? Why would he want to come along? I know that the Akitas were his project, but this trip presents a lot of risk for hostile confrontation.” Hood shook his head. “Something else is in play here, I don’t like it.”
“Your concern is noted, Captain,” Tramp said. “But, there is another issue. Your request for Major McGrego
r made waves all the way to the Chancellery. Admiral Grant had to spend a lot of his clout to get the charges dismissed and have him assigned to you. Now there is a lot more political pressure on the brass that this mission is a success. Are you absolutely sure he is the right guy for this mission? His record against the Cilik’ti is exemplary, but the baggage could be detrimental.”
Hood watched two technicians approach the admiral’s shuttle and begin their systematic checks of the exterior before refueling and routine maintenance. “Tell Admiral Grant I am fully aware of the situation with our troubled Major, but I strongly believe that he’s the right person here. We might find ourselves in a real pickle defending the colonists, and his experience and rapport with the Marines under him are what I need. I can sort out the baggage. Do you have anything else?”
“Just one more item, James. Due to the issues with Epherium and the advent of some political intrigue, Admiral Grant and I decided to assign you a different Chief Security Officer. We feel you need someone who has unique skills in investigation as well as enforcement.”
Hood gave Admiral Tramp a puzzled look. “I felt Lieutenant Nakamura was very capable for what we need onboard, but who do you have in mind?”
Tramp reached over and tapped another file on the data pad and Hood quickly began to review it. “Her name is Lieutenant Maya Greywalker.”
Hood stopped and tried to think. “Wait a minute, sir. You’re not saying that she is one of Julian Greywalker’s ‘children’ are you?”
“Yes, Captain. That is exactly what I am saying.”
“I didn’t think there were any of them still alive.”
Admiral Tramp took a deep breath, held it for a moment then it let out. “The project Julian Greywalker conducted was an unsanctioned genetics experiment. Frankly, I was amazed that he was able to keep it a secret for so long.”
“He had a remote facility on Mars near Cydonia Labryrinthus, didn’t he?” Hood asked.
The Epherium Chronicles: Embrace Page 6