"If you'd be more comfortable in billeting I can arr—." The rest of his sentence was spoken into his wife's mouth as she grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into a crushing kiss.
"Do you really think I give a shit about Fleet decorum and regulations right now?" she asked.
"It would appear not," he said with a genuine smile. The relief of having gotten her off that planet without so much as a scratch flooded over him and he allowed himself to be dragged towards his rack which looked entirely too small for what Jillian had in mind.
Chambliss can pull a double watch. It builds character.
"The leading elements of CENTCOM's rescue force has arrived, sir," Lieutenant Hori said when Jackson walked onto the bridge. "They're forming up along the perimeter before coming down towards the planet."
"Thank you, OPS," Jackson said. "Coms, send a message and tell them the system is clear. They need to get down here quickly … they don't have time to sit on the boundary for weeks until all their ships arrive."
"Aye, sir."
"OPS, have there been any com drones entering the system in the past seventy-two hours?"
"Negative, Captain," Hori said.
"We can't afford to wait around," Jackson said. "Nav, is there a direct warp lane to Arcadia from this system?"
"Yes, sir. It was just recently established, but there've been no reports of any anomalies and Tsuyo has been moving some big ships through there," the chief at Navigation said.
"Very good. Plot a course for the Arcadia jump point and send it to the helm," Jackson said. "OPS, inform Engineering we'll be breaking orbit and steaming for a transition within the hour."
"Aye, sir."
"Arcadia, sir?" Chambliss whispered.
"There's something there I need to talk to and I'd rather do it in person if I have to do it at all," Jackson explained. "It's also an established system with a modern com drone platform so our orders may be waiting for us, and it will allow us to drop off our rescued crew at a CENTCOM facility without risking having them onboard if we're engaged by the Specter."
"Of course, sir," Chambliss said with a straight face. He knew damn well that the Wolfes had a home on Arcadia and that Jackson intended to fly his wife all the way there to ensure she made it safely.
"Something, sir?" he asked after his mind caught up with what he had heard.
"You'll see, Commander," Jackson said. "We've been stabbing around in the dark for the last year and a half looking for this enemy ace. In that time he's apparently built a much more powerful ship, gained an unbelievable amount of accurate intel on Terran space, and has just successfully perpetrated what can now be classified as a massive terrorist attack since he's not sanctioned by any government.
"We, on the other hand, have no idea where his base is, we're not sure why he's attacking research stations, and we have no idea how to find him. I need to quickly improve our odds before the next attack."
"Yes, sir," Chambliss said, looking even more confused than he had been before.
"Course is plotted from orbit to transition, Captain," the Nav specialist reported.
"OPS?"
"Engineering has cleared the Nemesis for maneuvering. Full engine power available."
"Helm, come onto new course … all ahead one-half until you clear the debris field and then drop the hammer to flank," Jackson ordered.
"Ahead one-half, aye!"
11
"Mr. Vice Chairman, thank you for taking the time to see me," President Nelson said as Akio Tanaka walked into the executive suite antechamber.
"Mr. President," Tanaka said with a bow. "It is good that we are able to discuss these things face to face. The com drone network lacks the necessary nuance when dealing with such delicate matters."
The two powerful men walked into the executive office, the heavy security door sliding shut automatically and a green light on the wall illuminating to indicate all the anti-eavesdropping equipment was active.
"I can assure you that the Parliament Committee on Starfleet Operations will quickly be giving me the authorization to order a surgical strike against the Darshik warship they call the Specter," Nelson said. "As soon as they do, I plan to unleash Captain Wolfe upon it and bring this conflict to a swift and decisive end."
"That is why I wished to speak to you alone … and off the record," Tanaka said carefully. "We are off the record, are we not, Mr. President?"
"Nothing said here will leave this room, and we're not being recorded," Nelson said, obviously on guard after the odd comment.
"Excellent," Tanaka said with a clap of his hands. "I will get right to the point. It is the position of the Tsuyo Corporation board of directors that we do not wish for Captain Wolfe to be unleashed, as you so colorfully put it, in response to the attack on our orbital habitat."
"You … you can't be serious," Nelson said. "There are likely hundreds of thousands of dead civilians! Even if I was inclined to ignore this, the public, and therefore the legislature, will be clamoring for military action."
"Nevertheless we stand firm," Tanaka said sternly. "We feel that a military retaliation against this single Darshik would be ill-advised and a colossal waste of resources. There are many reasons for this, but for now let's just say that we feel it would only perpetuate a war that is ending without any need for intervention from us."
"I'm sorry, Mr. Tanaka, but I can't—"
"As we speak, our liaisons to Parliament are speaking to the members of the Fleet Operations committee." Tanaka rudely cut the President off, establishing who was really in control of the meeting. "You will not be receiving the authorization you're expecting. Recall the Nemesis and allow Tsuyo Corporation to handle what is essentially an internal matter."
"An internal matter!" Nelson exploded. "Have you lost your mind?! Tsuyo employees or not, those were still Federation citizens aboard that habitat and we're responsible for their safety. You dare to come in here and dictate terms to me like this?"
"I was told you were an idealist and occasional hothead, Mr. President," Tanaka sighed. "I'd hoped to do this quietly and with mutual respect … that can still happen, but it's up to you. You've been in politics long enough to know that the board has vast influence within the government. That was the case in the old Confederation days and nothing has changed recently."
"I don't think we have anything further to discuss, Mr. Vice Chairman," Nelson said. "If you'll kindly show yourself out."
"Heed my words, Mr. President," Tanaka said as he stood up. "And please, for your sake, do not try to take this to the press and strong-arm the board. Nothing good can come of that. Good day, sir." Tanaka bowed again, smoothed his expensive suit, and walked out of the office.
Five kilometers away, in a small, windowless room, Agent Pike leaned back in his chair and thought about what he'd just heard. He'd re-bugged the executive suite after Wellington's death and once he'd learned that Tsuyo had sent their vice chairman to New Sierra he'd risked activating two of his audio bugs. Now he was reeling by what he'd just listened to.
Pike was no innocent. He knew damn good and well that Tsuyo was the real power within the Federation. Their tightly controlled technology made the entire thing possible in the first place, not to mention the fact they were an enormous part of the Fed's total economy. Even while they laid the groundwork to become their own independent power with representation like the other enclaves, they made sure they owned enough members of Parliament to move their agendas ahead at will.
So why would Tsuyo not want the bastard that had destroyed a habitat worth trillions of federal notes hunted down and killed? The board would normally have already taken matters into their own hands, either using their politician puppets to spur Starfleet into action or directly using their own fleet of ships. They weren't known for allowing such an insult to pass without retribution. So what the hell was really going on?
On a whim, Pike tossed on his light jacket, grabbed his field kit, and raced out of the safehouse. It was a CIS-controlled
unit, but he was still a full agent in the intelligence organization so he could come and go as he pleased. He hopped into one of the ubiquitous public transport ground vehicles and ordered it towards the capital. His CIS credentials allowed him to access a greater degree of flexibility when using the public fleet of ground cars. He could, for example, give vague instructions like a general direction or to follow a specific target, something that wouldn't be possible if a civilian had flagged one down. It gave him the perfect camouflage for discreet observation.
"Fucking figures," he muttered as he saw five large, black Tsuyo vehicles roll out onto the main boulevard from the underground parking at the executive complex. Vice Chairman Tanaka was rolling heavy with a lot of security. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd hoped.
"Follow the convoy of black ground transports," he instructed. "Maintain an interval no less than fifty meters and no more than seventy-five."
"Acknowledged," the car's emotionless voice said. On the windshield, a projection bracketed the black vehicles and the telemetry from the public traffic management system scrolled along the bottom.
Pike hoped that Tanaka was staying at one of the swankier hotels of New Sierra City and that was why he had so much extra muscle with him. If he was staying on the Tsuyo compound located beyond the outskirts, the agent would have zero chance of getting close enough to see if the vice chairman had any other interesting meetings or interactions.
"Back to the grind," he sighed and settled in as the car doggedly pursued the convoy. After flying around in his Broadhead II, shooting up enemy starships, and flying point for more than a few Fleet operations, it was comforting to be getting back to what his job actually was. Human intelligence still had a critical role even in an age of technological dependence, and there weren't any better at the job than he was. Something in his gut told him that the Tsuyo board had done something that they would rather not have out in the public discourse.
If it was big enough to make them ignore the deaths of hundreds of thousands and shrug off the loss of the Amaterasu Orbital Habitat, it was likely something very big indeed.
"Transition complete, all departments checking in," Lieutenant Hori reported.
"Position verified," the nav specialist said. "We're in the Arcadia System and arrived seven hundred and two kilometers off target." There was some applause and cheering among the crew. Anything under a thousand kilometers when trying to hit a jump point was considered exceptional, so much so that the Nemesis would now get an award from CENTCOM for it.
"Let Engineering know they did an outstanding job at tightening that up," Jackson said, allowing himself a wide smile. He was certain by the time they left Arcadia his Engineering crew would have put the stylized bullseye marking on the prow before CENTCOM had time to certify the achievement.
"Yes, sir!" Hori said.
"Nav, give me a flyby course for Arcadia that allows us to deploy shuttles to the surface with the yacht crew aboard," Jackson said. "The Nemesis will sling past the planet and continue on to the coordinates I'm providing you. These coordinates are to be considered classified and are not to be stored in the nav computers as a known waypoint."
"Understood, sir," the chief sitting at Navigation said. "New course coming up now."
"Coms, please inform Flight OPS to prep two shuttles for crew transfer to the planet and that they're to remain on the surface until they hear from us. OPS, as soon as our ident beacon signal is recognized by the com drone platform, be on the lookout for a packet from CENTCOM … we're still expecting our new orders."
"Aye, sir."
"XO, you have the bridge." Jackson stood abruptly and walked towards the hatchway. "Get us down to Arcadia as quickly as possible … we have a lot of work to do."
"Yes, sir," Chambliss called to Jackson's departing back.
Jackson went to the lifts and, with Alejandro Castillo running to catch him, stepped into one of the waiting cars as the doors slid closed. He punched in his destination deck and waited as the car whooshed him down from the bridge further into the bowels of the ship. Stepping off on Deck 12, he made his way quickly through two security checkpoints and into CIC.
"Captain Wolfe, what can I do for you, sir?" Lieutenant Commander Jake Hawkins asked. As per Jackson's standing orders while underway, the CIC department head hadn't called the work center to attention when he walked in.
"I need to use one of the coffins, Lieutenant Commander," Jackson said. "I also want a raw data dump of everything we have on the Darshik Specter including unofficial intel on the recent attacks. Put it on a secure courier card and encrypt it using my credentials."
"Of course, Captain," Hawkins said without so much as a pause or raised eyebrow. "I'll alert the com shop that you'll be needing one of the secure transceivers and have it routed to number two … it'll be ready by the time you get in there, sir."
"Thank you, Mr. Hawkins," Jackson said, walking off towards the back of the CIC where there were five discreet, narrow hatches. These led to secure com booths the crew called "coffins" that allowed someone to use the secure com suite without the risk of what was being discussed being leaked among the crew. They weren't normally used by bridge crew, it was more for the intel section that operated within the CIC, but Jackson wanted to make absolutely certain the integrity of Project Prometheus remained intact for as long as possible.
Once he was settled into the seat of the cramped com room, he saw the status board light up, showing that he now had direct access to three of the Nemesis's secure transceivers and that all of the latest valid Fleet encryption routines were available to him. He set the transceiver to send an encrypted data broadcast and punched in a local net address that he had memorized. The com lag at the distance between him and his intended recipient was fifty-eight minutes. Too far for two-way communication to be practical but close enough that he could at least send a message that he was coming.
"Administrator Jovanović, this is Captain Jackson Wolfe aboard the TFS Nemesis," he began once the lit halo around the microphone turned green. "I'll be hand-delivering a data bundle that I need the Cube to analyze ASAP. I'm asking this as a personal favor … this isn't authorized by CENTCOM. My ship will be coming within shuttle range of the Pontiac within the next thirty hours. If there's an issue with my request, please channel it to me through the standard com network. Wolfe out."
Jackson checked to make sure the package had been transmitted successfully before closing down his link with the secure transceiver and exiting the coffin. As soon as he stepped back into the middle of the CIC, Lieutenant Commander Hawkins handed him a red data card, the color signifying that it contained classified information, and a biometric reader so that the card could be imprinted to his bio signature.
"And if you'll just sign the log, sir," Hawkins said. "I've already made an entry that you came down for a courier card, but I didn't specify what data you asked for. Technically we're not required to enter that."
"Thank you, Mr. Hawkins," Jackson said as he entered his credentials on the terminal. "You've been very helpful, as always. Carry on."
"Yes, sir."
"Where to now, Captain?" Castillo asked.
"We're going back to my office to lock this up," Jackson said, waving the red card. "After that, I'm going back to the bridge to finish the watch."
"Very good, sir."
"Mr. President, it's an honor to meet you in person, sir."
"Likewise, Admiral Pitt," Nelson said, shaking the flag officer's hand. "Please, have a seat."
"Thank you, sir."
"I know this is more Admiral Wright's department, and that I'm far outside normal channels talking to you directly anyway, but there's something I have to know, Admiral: Where is the Nemesis?"
Nelson's question completely threw Pitt off. He'd expected that this was just the usual formalities of a new President meeting with senior military staff when he'd gotten the call to fly down to the surface of New Sierra.
"She was dispatched to the Kirin System
on my orders, sir," Pitt said carefully. "The Nemesis is by far the fastest ship currently in active service and I wanted to get eyes on the situation as quickly as I could. They effected the rescue of a downed Fleet yacht and last I heard she'd left the system shortly after."
"That's not answering the question, Admiral. You're telling me you have no idea where Starfleet's most advanced warship is at all times?" Nelson's tone was frosty and Pitt was once again reminded of how much he despised the political aspect of his job.
"Captains are given a certain leeway while operating so far away from Command, Mr. President," Pitt said. "However, I am expecting to hear through the automated reporting system that the Nemesis arrived in the Arcadia System after departing Kirin. Captain Wolfe's wife was aboard that yacht and it would be a short flight to take them to Arcadia as opposed to bringing them all the way back to New Sierra."
"You're personal friends with Captain Wolfe, are you not?" Nelson asked.
"We're very familiar with each other, sir, but I wouldn't go so far as to say we're friends," Pitt said. "I can predict how he'll react in most situations, if that's what you're asking."
"Very astute, Admiral." Nelson smiled humorlessly and steepled his fingers under his chin. "Consider what I'm about to tell you privileged information and not for the official record. There's not going to be an official go-order for Operation Exorcist. Parliament has come to the decision that it would be unnecessarily provocative and as things stand now I would need their approval to proceed."
Pitt strangled the curse that came to his lips at the news. How much more provocative did the Darshik need to be before these assholes would act? Operation Exorcist was a carefully planned set of orders for Starfleet that would put the Nemesis at the pointy end of the spear while providing enough support through the numbered fleets to allow Wolfe to press deep into Darshik territory if needed.
"However, Parliament does not issue specific operational orders to CENTCOM or Starfleet," Nelson went on. "That falls under the executive branch still. So while I cannot authorize Operation Exorcist, neither am I required to recall the Nemesis for any particular reason."
Destroyer (Expansion Wars Trilogy, Book 3) Page 11