by Tori Harris
“No, sir,” Prescott agreed. “In fact, Admiral Naftur indicated that the Resistance expects there will be little to no resistance from Terran forces when their task force arrives at Sol. Their chief concern is the Guardian, and they believe they have developed some tactics that will allow them to keep it busy while they attack Earth from multiple directions with stand-off weapons. I suspect they will attribute the loss of their two ships to the Gresav since they believed Ingenuity to be unarmed.”
“Well, that was an unfortunate mistake for them, but their intel was only off by a month or so.”
“True enough, sir, and given our power deficiency at the time, we would have almost definitely been either destroyed or captured after they finished dealing with the Gresav.”
“Precisely, and that’s why I want Ingenuity on the ground at Yucca for repairs immediately. Commander Logan seems to have a good handle on what went wrong, and doesn’t seem to think the fix will take long to accomplish — maybe a couple of weeks, tops.”
Prescott took a deep breath before responding. The admiral appeared to have granted his career a stay of execution, so quibbling over his orders at this point seemed foolhardy at best. Still, he believed the best place for Ingenuity’s crew was in space, working with Admiral Naftur to locate the Resistance forces before they could organize an attack.
Admiral Patterson paused, studying Captain Prescott’s face with narrowed eyes and an expression that seemed to issue a direct challenge. “Did you have something to add, Captain?”
The old expression, “The better part of valor is discretion,” echoed through Prescott’s mind, and though Shakespeare intended it to illustrate cowardice, the words had an entirely different meaning at the moment. “No, sir,” he answered evenly, realizing that he was by no means in a position to argue. “We’ll get her ready to fly again in short order.”
Patterson chuckled, “No, that’s not what I have in mind, Tom. Your AI’s report highlighted the fact that Naftur believes he might be able to dissuade the Resistance forces from attacking Earth if he can find their rally point. Honestly, that seems like a stretch to me, but at this point we need to pursue every available avenue that might prevent military action, because I can assure you that we are not prepared to counter a determined attack. We also can’t count on the Guardian to pull our collective arses out of the fire. In fact, we are already working on our own strategy for taking that thing out in case it comes to that.”
“Very well, sir, what are my orders, then?” Prescott asked, willingly taking the bait.
“I’m sure you recall that there were six Theseus-class destroyers nearing completion at Yucca while you were there. You may have also noticed that none of them are in space at the moment. Completion of the destroyers was always expected to run a bit behind the other warship classes … and that was by design. The idea was to field a credible defensive force with our frigates, cruisers, and carriers as quickly as possible and then integrate as many improvements as we could into the destroyers before they were launched. Obviously, I’m referring to fairly minor tweaks rather than any significant design changes, since we’re only talking about a few months since Ingenuity was launched. Understand, though, that the destroyers also included a number of major improvements from day one. Using this approach, we hoped to minimize the risk to our overall deployment schedule while still managing to field at least one class with significantly upgraded capabilities. I think it’s safe to say that Ingenuity’s battle performance at Gliese 667 has served to validate that strategy to some extent. Unfortunately, final systems integration was taking a bit longer than expected, which prompted us to throw all available resources into getting the first destroyer from each of our three primary shipyards ready to fly as quickly as possible. If all goes well, the others will only be a week or so behind. In any event, at Yucca Mountain, the first out of the barn will be the Theseus herself.”
“I’m assuming they have had their hyperdrives upgraded to include C-Drive capabilities then?” Prescott asked, taken aback by where it looked like the admiral was going with this line of thought and not certain that it made much sense from an operational standpoint.
“Yes, they have, although I suppose it’s not technically an upgrade since the inclusion of a C-Drive was one of those high-risk design improvements I was referring to that was always part of the plan. Since, in many respects, the Theseus-class destroyer is an oversized version of the Ingenuity-class frigate, we’ll need to ensure she won’t suffer from the same power issues you experienced on your first run out to Gliese 667. I’ve already spoken with one of Navajo’s engineers who has been intimately involved with the hyperdrive program. He took a look at Commander Logan’s notes and does not believe the Theseus will have the same problem. Something about excess capacitor – energy density – something or other. In any event, I’ll make him available to assist Commander Logan, as needed. Otherwise, Theseus represents the very latest and best of every system we have — C-Drive for the ship, C-Drive-equipped missiles, C-Drives for her twenty-four RPSVs, plus a number of other enhancements that I won’t pretend I can adequately describe in any detail.”
“Admiral, what are you asking me to do?”
“Jeez, Prescott, do I need to draw you a picture? You will proceed to the Yucca Mountain Shipyard where you will relinquish command of TFS Ingenuity so that she can begin undergoing repairs and a reactor refit under the supervision of Captain Oshiro. You will leave Commanders Reynolds and Logan in charge of assisting with getting that process underway, as well as transferring Ingenuity’s crew to TFS Theseus. She’s a much bigger ship, Tom, so we’ll need to almost triple your crew complement. The good news there is that she already has a fully trained crew on standby. You can let your XO pick and choose whom she wants aboard. If I get my way, you’ll also be taking on a full platoon of spec-ops Marines and their assault shuttles. After all, you never know when you might need to send some of your people out to meet some of their people … and then kill them,” he smirked.
“You’ll get no argument from me there,” Prescott laughed. “Don’t get me wrong, Admiral, I’m honored that you would place this kind of confidence in my crew and me, but we are just now coming up to speed on Ingenuity’s systems. Is it wise for us to change to a completely different ship design at such a critical time?”
“Wise? Hell no, it’s not wise, but we’re pretty much up against it, in case you hadn’t noticed, Captain,” Patterson growled. He paused and took a deep breath, then softened his expression a bit before continuing. “Look, I understand your hesitation, Tom, but Ingenuity may be out of action for a couple of weeks or more. As I said earlier, you’re my only crew that has seen combat, and that still counts for quite a bit in my book. You could say that all of our ships have green crews at this point, so I’m still better off putting your crew in an unfamiliar ship than having you cooling your heels at Yucca while we’re being attacked by the Resistance, God forbid. Besides, a major design element of both the Theseus and Ingenuity classes was what the engineers referred to as ‘mod/com,’ which refers to modularity and commonality. The idea was that if you were trained up in one, you were essentially trained up in both. That interchangeability concept is also one of the main reasons we have been able to produce four separate ship designs so quickly — and build out all four designs at each of our three primary shipyards. Now I’m not going to stand here and tell you that Ingenuity and Theseus are exactly the same ship, but there should be enough in common between the two for your folks to feel at home pretty quickly. That’s especially true since more than half of your crew will have already had quite a bit of time to prepare in the sim.”
“Shut up and say ‘Thank you Admiral,’ before he changes his mind, Tom,” Captain Davis laughed, struggling not to be jealous of his friend lucking into yet another plum, independent command.
“Thank you, Admiral,” Prescott laughed. “We’ll figure out a way to make it work.”
“I suspect you will, Captain,” Patterson
chuckled. “As soon as you are on the ground at Yucca, there should be a shuttle waiting to transport Admiral Naftur to HQ for a quick debriefing with Admirals Sexton and White before the Guardian ‘induction’ call at 1000 Zulu. I want you to get Reynolds and Logan started on their tasks, then get yourself on a shuttle to HQ as well. The quicker you can get there, the better. I’m certain you can provide some additional insight that will be valuable to the Commander in Chief.”
“Understood, sir. Anything else?”
“That’s it for now. Don’t forget I also want that ‘lessons learned’ document within twenty-four hours. I’m mainly just looking for you to provide our commanders with a high level assessment of the most important things they need to know if they find themselves in a scrap with a Resistance ship. Otherwise, just keep in mind that there isn’t a moment to be lost. I need you and Admiral Naftur aboard the Theseus and back in space yesterday. Questions?”
“None, sir, thank you.”
“Good luck, Tom.”
Earth, Terran Fleet Command Headquarters
(0003 UTC — Leadership Council Meeting Chamber)
In the two and a half hours since the Guardian’s arrival, Karoline Crull, Chairwoman of Terran Fleet Command’s Leadership Council, had managed to assemble twelve of fifteen members for an emergency session. It was, in fact, unusual for such a large percentage of the membership to be available on such short notice for an on-site meeting. Since the Sajeth Collective incursion nearly a month prior, however, the Council had been in more or less continuous session. As was customary for important meetings such as this one, the representatives who could not attend in person participated via vidcon, their images displayed on large view screens situated on either side of the chamber. At the front of the room, Crull called the session to order from her perch behind an extravagantly carved, mahogany lectern situated atop a massive, two-level dais. Much to her annoyance, the largest view screen, situated in the center of the chamber immediately behind her lectern, currently displayed the careworn face of Admiral Duke Sexton, Commander in Chief, Terran Fleet Command.
“Before we can get started addressing the historic events that require our immediate and undivided attention, I agreed to allow Admiral Sexton a moment to register a concern,” she began, speaking as if she was referring to an errant child who was interrupting a serious discussion between adults. “Admiral?”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Sexton replied, ignoring her condescending tone. “I know that the Council is accustomed to utilizing secure vidcon so that off-site members have the opportunity to attend sessions remotely, but until further notice, I urge you to secure this meeting chamber and terminate all electronic emissions. That includes vidcon streams as well as both official and personal communications devices.”
On the floor of the meeting chamber, there was a general murmur as some members discussed the Admiral’s seemingly radical suggestion among themselves, while others consulted their respective corporate and governmental sponsors in an effort to determine how they were expected to respond. The Council chamber itself looked much more like a collection of fourteen miniature command centers than it did a traditional governmental meeting facility. Each representative was afforded a large workspace, complete with multiple computer monitors fronting state of the art computing resources designed to provide instantaneous communications with their various constituencies around the world. Like so many political representatives throughout Human history, members of the Leadership Council tended to serve many masters. Unfortunately, rather than striving to represent the will of the citizens they were sent here to represent, many had become nothing more than a mouthpiece for powerful special interests.
Crull waited for most of the conversations taking place in the room to die down before continuing. “Obviously, this would be a significant and disruptive departure from how we have always conducted business in the past, so I’m going to open the floor to questions for the admiral,” she said, thinking that her fellow Council members would quickly dismiss his foolish suggestion out of hand without her ever needing to commit herself one way or another. “The Chair recognizes the representative from the European Union.”
Lisbeth Kistler, the distinguished-looking fifty-year-old representative from Germany, was one of the few in the room who tended to make up her own mind rather than being issued an opinion by unseen functionaries thousands of kilometers away. She was also one of the only members who still strongly believed in adhering to traditional forms of etiquette during formal meetings. She stood and paused momentarily, allowing the room to go completely silent before speaking. “Thank you, Madame Chairwoman. Good morning, Admiral Sexton. As I’m sure you can appreciate, many of us rely heavily on secure communications during Council session for a variety of purposes. Would you please explain for us why this change is necessary?”
“Good morning, Councilwoman Kistler. Yes, ma’am, I would be happy to. Although we have no way of knowing for sure, the latest Fleet Intelligence Estimate provides compelling evidence that these Guardian spacecraft have demonstrated the ability to eavesdrop on encrypted communications. I am not able to go into much additional detail since doing so in this insecure setting could have unpredictable results where the Pelarans are concerned.”
“You are, of course, referring to intelligence obtained from our new quote, unquote ‘allies,’ the Sajeth Collective,” Crull interrupted in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “These are the same quote, unquote ‘allies,’ who appear to be on their way to attack the Earth at this very moment, are they not?”
Two years ago, Crull had been appointed as the Central and South American Union’s representative to finish out the final six weeks of her late husband’s term. The largely symbolic appointment had been intended as a statement of sympathy and support for a grieving widow as well as recognition of her husband’s long and distinguished career. No one had expected Crull to ever actually attend a Leadership Council meeting, much less insist on taking over immediately as Chairwoman. Nor had anyone expected that her far-reaching connections would allow her to be elected for a follow-on five-year term in the powerful role.
“Madame Chairwoman, I think it prudent to avoid references to classified information until we resolve this matter,” Councilwoman Kistler interjected in an effort to regain control of the floor. Crull scowled, waving her hand dismissively by way of reply, thus allowing the conversation to proceed.
“Again, I urge the Leadership Council to secure the meeting chamber and terminate all electronic emissions,” Sexton continued, unfazed by the chairwoman’s all too typical bullying tactics. “Our ships have likewise been ordered to cease all classified communications until further notice. I can largely guarantee the security of our network resources located here at TFC Headquarters, but there is simply no way I can do the same for external connections.”
“Members of the Council,” Kistler began again after a brief pause to consider the admiral’s request, “I believe we would all prefer to have every one of our fifteen members available for these discussions, and we would also prefer to have access to our usual communications channels to our various constituencies. On the other hand, we do have a quorum present in the chamber and, as Chairwoman Crull mentioned, we are in the midst of historic, and potentially very dangerous events. To my knowledge, none of our esteemed members are experts on matters of secure communications. So, under the circumstances, I’d like to make a motion that we follow Admiral Sexton’s counsel without further discussion.”
“Second!” several other members responded immediately.
“Oh very well,” Crull replied, pausing to take a deep breath in a vain attempt to hide her contempt. She made a quick mental note that Kistler’s insolence would require an appropriate response at some point in the future before continuing, “Votes will be recorded by electronic device.”
Within thirty seconds, ten of the fifteen members had voted in favor of securing the room. Not surprisingly, three of the five “no” votes were from th
e Council members who were not present in the meeting chamber — and all three happened to be political allies of the chairwoman.
“The motion passes,” she sighed. “Before we continue, I’d like to apologize to our three esteemed colleagues who will now be prevented, unnecessarily in my view, from representing their member nations until they can physically return to Fleet Headquarters. I urge each of you to return as quickly as possible.” Crull then glared around the meeting chamber, shaking her head as if it was necessary to further underscore her opinion on the matter. “The sergeant at arms will secure the room. Admiral Sexton, please have your people do whatever it is they propose to do.”
On the giant view screen in the front of the room, Admiral Sexton nodded to a Fleet security specialist off-camera. In seconds, the three view screens displaying vidcons with remote members went blank as all external network connectivity was terminated. For the first time in the brief history of Terran Fleet Command, the Leadership Council would now be forced to make their own decisions rather than relying on the faceless bureaucrats and power brokers lurking behind the scenes.
Chapter 3
TFS Ingenuity, Earth Orbit
Knowing that both he and his crew were about to once again be under the pressure of an extremely aggressive, if not downright unreasonable, schedule, Prescott had signaled ahead for his XO and chief engineer to meet his returning shuttle on Ingenuity’s flight deck. As the frigate’s AI once again sounded the boatswain’s call and announced “Ingenuity, arriving,” the shuttle’s rear cargo door slowly descended to reveal Commanders Reynolds and Logan anxiously awaiting his return. Both officers saluted smartly as their captain stood and headed for the Sherpa’s exit.
“Have I got a surprise for the two of you,” he chuckled, returning their salute before hopping off the still-descending cargo ramp.