"Aye, sir," Davis said as she slipped her headset back up to talk to the flight operations center that was located just aft of the engine pylons.
Over the next two hours the Blue Jacket launched a pair of sensor-laden drones, each on opposite sides of the planet, and waited as the data came scrolling in. The close-up images of the sites where the major cities had stood were horrific. Chunks of what looked like either building concrete or roadbed were sticking haphazardly out of some sort of viscous substance that glistened as if still wet. The oddest thing was that, other than a slight rise in mean temperature and a measurable rise in methane levels in the atmosphere, there wasn't any evidence of a massive bombardment or any type of battle at all, even a hopelessly one-sided one.
"Drones are at bingo fuel," Ensign Davis reported.
"Wipe their onboard memory, disable their sensors, and send the recall command," Jackson said in frustration. "Once they're out of the atmosphere, hand them off to flight ops."
"We're not much closer to finding out what happened here than we were four hours ago, Captain," Celesta said. "What's our next move?"
"Listen up!" Jackson said, not answering her directly. "We're going to continue orbiting Xi'an and collecting data for the foreseeable future. Obviously I have to unlock the bridge so everyone can eat and rest, but the blackout on information is still in place. Until we know what happened here I can't have rumors running rampant on this ship. You will be allowed to take meals in the wardroom and rest in the ready room one deck down, but none of you are to return to your quarters or mingle with your departments. Am I understood?"
A chorus of affirmative responses and head nods met his directive as he moved about the bridge, making eye contact with each one of them.
"Very well," he said. "Sergeant, you may unseal the bridge and resume your post outside. Ensign Davis, you have the hot seat. Maintain our orbit and continue recording. Coms, have Lieutenant Commander Singh report to my office and tell Major Ortiz I want his Marines controlling access to and from the command decks. Commander Wright, you're with me." She turned and followed him off the bridge, nodding to Ensign Davis as she did. Captain Wolfe didn't say a word until they reached his office and he gestured for her to enter before him.
"What a fucking mess!" he exclaimed as soon as the hatch shut, causing her to jump.
"It is indeed, sir,"
"Have a seat, Commander," Jackson said wearily. "We'll need to figure out what the hell to do so don't stand on formality. If you have an idea, even a bad one, toss it out there."
"Do you really think this is an attack?" she asked.
"I'm certain of it," he said. "The problem is, I'm not sure who could have done it." They discussed what little they knew until a Marine from Major Ortiz's detachment escorted the chief engineer in.
"Thank you, Corporal," Jackson said. "That will be all."
"Yes, sir!" the young man said crisply before keying the hatch shut and taking up post just outside.
"They're certainly excited," Singh noted carefully as he took a seat.
"This is the first time they've had anything to do other than ferret out illegal booze stills and break up lower deck fight clubs and gambling rings," Jackson said.
"So what's going on?" Singh asked. "I assume there's a reason the command deck is locked down other than a drill."
"Oh yes, and you're not going to believe it when I tell you," Jackson said.
Over the next forty minutes they brought him up to speed on everything they knew while supplementing the briefing with data from the drones and the Blue Jacket's sensors. Singh seemed to accept everything on face value, only stopping them a few times to ask questions but otherwise staying quiet.
"That's what we know," Jackson said, splaying his hands out. "It isn't much. What do you make of all this, Daya?"
"I'm still trying to process the fact that so many civilians are apparently dead. Slaughtered, in fact," Singh said. "I suppose my first question would be why am I here? The ship is running fine and I'm not an investigator nor a tactician."
"Because I'm going to need the ship ready to fight," Jackson said. "Let's be honest ... the old girl's guns haven't been fired in over a decade and even then it was low power laser blasts for marking purposes during that ridiculous exercise with Fourth Fleet."
"Theoretically, as per Seventh Fleet and CENTCOM directives, all weapons are ready to be employed in a combat situation in under sixty seconds," Singh said with a straight face.
"And realistically?"
"The expendable munitions haven't been checked in over fifteen years other than to make sure they're accounted for," Singh began, ticking points off on his fingers. "Which is fine, because the loaders that move the missiles to the launch tubes haven't been checked in ten years for functionality. The mag-cannons might fire, but I'm certain the accelerator rails are degraded after so many warp transitions without being inspected, and the turret actuators are likely going to cause issues with accuracy.
"The forward lasers were fired in that exercise you mentioned, but at five percent power. I know for a fact the power transmission lines on four of the projectors have deteriorated to the point that it would actually be more dangerous to us than the enemy if we attempted a full power beam. So, other than our nuclear complement, we don't have much that I would be willing to hang my hat on."
"We don't have any nukes," Jackson said quietly.
"What?!" Daya exclaimed. "We most certainly do. They've been sitting in the amidship magazine for decades."
"They were removed and replaced with training units six years ago when we put in at the Sierra Shipyards to have the plasma generators on engines one and four replaced," Jackson said. "CENTCOM has quietly taken all strategic weapons off of Black Fleet ships over the last decade or so. The initiative is highly classified and the dummy weapons will pass inspection when the specialists go to perform maintenance. Even the trace amounts of radiation are there, with no two being identical."
"Why in the hell would they do that?" Celesta asked before remembering whom she was addressing. "Sir."
"Given the nature of the crews assigned to Black Fleet lately, CENTCOM didn't feel comfortable with live nukes aboard the ships given the fact we fly through all the enclaves unimpeded," Jackson shrugged, unconcerned with her outburst. "I was personally happy to see them go. Until now, of course."
"So where does this leave us?" she asked.
"In a mess," Jackson said. "Just from a self-preservation perspective we have no idea if whoever did this is still around or if they're coming back. From a tactical standpoint I'd like something to threaten a potential enemy with that doesn't include harsh words or obscene hand gestures."
"No offense, Jack," Singh said, the familiar use of the captain's first name again causing Celesta to flinch, "but shouldn't we be steaming towards a jump point and transitioning to warp on our way back to Haven?"
"We're not leaving," Jackson said.
"Why not?" Singh demanded.
"Because I said we're not, and that's the only reason you need, Lieutenant Commander," Jackson said, raising his voice and leaning forward. "We have no idea who attacked this world. Or why. Until we have something firm to report we are not running back to Haven with our tails tucked. Now, Chief Engineer, all I need to hear from you is that you have a plan to get the weapons on my ship in at least some semblance of working order. Can you do that?"
"Yes, sir," Singh said, jaw clenched.
"Good," Jackson said, leaning back. "I'd like a report from you within the hour that includes a time table for the necessary inspections and repairs. Dismissed."
Singh opened his mouth to say something, thought better of it, and let himself out of the office.
"Was it a good idea to anger him before asking him to tackle such a daunting task?" Celesta asked carefully.
"Daya?" Jackson asked. "He'll be fine. I needed to break his attention away from wanting to weigh anchor and dash for the nearest jump point. He'll be focused on being insu
lted and indignant and in the meantime will accomplish everything I asked him to."
"I mean no disrespect when I say this—"
"Commander, as a new standing order, whenever we're alone you have permission to speak freely," Jackson said. "I'm going to need your best in this situation and you can't deliver that if you're tiptoeing around customs and courtesies even when nobody is around."
"Yes, sir," she said. "How is it that Lieutenant Commander Singh was aware of all the problems with our armament yet has not addressed them for what I understand to be over a decade?"
"Budget," Jackson said. "Each ship's expenses are tracked carefully and the Blue Jacket is an aging ship. If I turned in requisitions for the raw material or fabricated parts for every single thing on this ship that needed it CENTCOM would recall us to be decommissioned. Ninth Squadron has been running under an informal agreement between the captains to keep essential systems running and to whitewash those that aren't. So, things like power lines to weapons and replacement actuators for mag-cannon turrets take a back seat to drives and life support systems. I'll admit it seems absurd, but when most of our tactical systems haven't been used since the ship was built it appeared to be a viable solution at the time."
"At the time?"
"I'll admit to having some regrets in the last twenty-four hours," he said. "While Daya is flogging his engineering crew to get the ship ready to shoot back if necessary, you're going to have to stay on top of making sure the full scope of what's happened on Xi'an stays need-to-know."
"That will be impossible to do indefinitely," she said. "How much longer do you want to keep this under wraps?"
"Until we're breaking orbit would be ideal," Jackson said sourly. "But I know how fast rumors start and travel on a starship. Eventually we'll have to release the information because otherwise there's sure to be a rumor started that's actually worse than the truth.
"I'm not hiding things from the crew arbitrarily. I need them focused on their jobs and something like this has never happened in any of their lifetimes. Not even a terraforming failure has ever been this devastating. Up until now this ship has simply been a place for them to live and work. The term 'warship' isn't even in their lexicon."
"I think I understand, sir," she said. "Will that be all?"
"No. I need to you to prepare an eyes-only brief for all the section chiefs and department heads," Jackson said. "Keep it fairly vague. You can let on that we suspect Xi'an was attacked, but let's not divulge just how bad it is on the surface right now."
"Yes, sir."
"Dismissed."
Chapter 9
"Drone data confirms that there aren't any biological agents in the air," Ensign Davis said. "The ... slicks ... that are in place where the cities used to be are not out-gassing anything exotic either, just carbon dioxide and methane."
"But thermographic scans and ground-penetrating radar didn't provide any additional data to what we'd already been able to glean from orbit," Jackson stated. "The drones are good, but they're moving too fast to really get any significant detail."
"I'm sorry, Captain," Davis said. "We're only carrying fixed-wing drones. No landers or anything that can hover."
Jackson waved her off. "It's of no importance, Ensign," he said. "I've been suspecting what our next course of action was going to be since we first made orbit. Coms! Have Major Ortiz report to the bridge."
"Aye, sir."
Ten minutes later CENTCOM Marine Major Jeza Ortiz walked onto the bridge, his head up and shoulders back in that strut Marines seemed to adopt around spacers. He was wearing camouflage fatigues that were earth-toned and obviously tailored to highlight his impressive physique honed from hours and hours of time in the gym. Jackson couldn't decide if the major actually thought the browns and greens would help him hide on a ship mostly made of steel or if it was just one more way he and his charges could separate themselves from Fleet personnel.
"Captain!" he said, standing at attention and snapping a crisp salute.
"At ease, Major," Jackson said, returning the salute. "Have you been briefed about the situation on the surface of Xi'an?"
"Yes, sir," Ortiz said with a nod, standing at parade rest. "Commander Wright included me on her initial command personnel brief."
"That brief was necessarily light on details, but all the major points were highlighted," Jackson said. "I asked you to come up here because we've exhausted the amount of data we can collect from orbit."
"We're going to the surface, sir?" Ortiz said with the hint of a smile playing across his lips.
"Affirmative, Major," Jackson said. "I want a ten-man team ready to go in one hour. You'll be accompanied by at least five others: myself and some specialists from Medical and Engineering."
"Aye aye, sir," Ortiz said. "We'll meet you in the shuttle launch bay."
"Very well," Jackson said with a nod. "Dismissed, Major."
"May I have a word with you in private, Captain?" Celesta said from behind his left shoulder so quietly he almost couldn't hear her.
"I was about to refill my coffee," he said, gesturing towards the bridge exit. "You know, we should really think about getting a dispenser installed on the bridge," he said as he popped the lid off his mug.
"I'll make a note of that, sir," Celesta said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "However, I think right now I'd like to talk about your plan to accompany a group of Marines down to the surface of Xi'an."
"What about it, Commander?"
"Sir, are you really going to make me cite the regulation that strictly forbids your leaving the ship during a crisis?" she asked with mild exasperation.
"No, I already know the reg," he said. "I also know it's not applicable in this case. You're referring to a CENTCOM standing order that limits a captain's movements in a time of war or while actively engaged with the enemy. Neither of those is true in this case. This is more of a battle damage assessment."
"Sir—"
"The matter is not up for debate, Commander," Jackson said. "This is a situation without precedence and I won't take the risk of sending someone else down."
"Yes, sir," she said in a tone that made it obvious she didn't agree and would happily continue the argument if he'd let her.
****
"Captain on deck!"
"As you were!" Jackson shouted across the cavernous staging area of the shuttle launch bay. He had gone down to the Marine detachment's shop area and got himself kitted out in something a little more substantial than his black Fleet utilities. He'd even gone so far as to pull a sidearm from the armory.
The Marines were all there, as were the two specialists from Engineering that Singh had sent. They were still waiting on the two medical technicians. While the specialists looked mildly terrified, the Marines were swaggering around the bay hurling insults at each other and generally looked to be overly excited for what was to be a sightseeing mission.
"Captain," Commander Javier Juarez said as he approached. "The shuttle is fueled and prepped, sir. I've put my best flight crew in it."
"Thank you, Commander," Jackson said. "We'll depart as soon as our other two passengers arrive."
"Of course, sir," Juarez said. "We're ready when you are."
They milled around for another thirty minutes before two specialists with badges identifying them as medical personnel walked into the bay, seemingly against their will.
"Perhaps my orders were unclear when I asked for two med specialists to be here by a certain time?" Jackson asked, mildly annoyed at the delay. If he were honest his nerves were a bit on edge about going down to the surface.
"N-n-no, sir," the senior ranking tech stammered. Jackson turned his back on them and addressed the rest of the team.
"This is it, everyone," he said. "Load up."
The shuttle launching bay was actually outside of the staging area. Instead of moving entire ships through airlocks to load and unload, the Blue Jacket's complement of landers, tenders, and ship-to-ship transports were hard-docked to
their own individual airlocks and the launch bay was kept at a constant vacuum. All flight ops had to do was open the destroyer's outer hatch and disengage the docking clamps and the shuttle could navigate away from the ship.
As the team moved towards the open airlock hatch the shuttle's crew chief ushered them in and directed them to the crash seats lining either side of the interior. The Marines filed in quickly, found their seats, and were strapped in while the specialists were still floundering about and trying to figure out how the harnesses worked. As they were getting comfortable the pilot walked back and directed the crew chief to secure the main hatch.
"This will be a short flight," the pilot said. "Even so, those of you not accustomed to working in freefall may experience some discomfort as we deorbit and head for the surface. I would take it as a kindness if you would be aware enough to utilize the bags directly under your seat if you find your stomach simply refuses to hang on to lunch. Captain, it's an honor to have you aboard, sir. We'll give you a nice, smooth ride down."
"Looking forward to it, Lieutenant," Jackson said. "Commander Juarez said you're his best." Once the pilot had walked back to the flight deck he addressed his team, "Just a heads up ... anyone who gets sick and makes a mess in the interior of this shuttle will be cleaning it when we return while the crew chief supervises. If you're going to get sick, grab the damn bag. Clear?”
"Clear, sir!" the Marines shouted in unison while the specialists only looked worriedly at each other. The crew chief, however, just smiled at them, nodding his thanks to the captain as he strapped into his own seat near the front of the compartment.
"Stand by," the pilot's voice came over the intercom. "We're undocking from the Blue Jacket now."
There was a sharp clang with an accompanying bump and then they could hear the hiss of the attitude jets firing, pushing them out of the docking bay and into open space. The shuttle had no windows in the passenger compartment so there was no way to tell for sure when they were clear of the ship other than the sudden loss of artificial gravity.
Black Fleet Trilogy 1: Warship Page 9