A Faded Star

by Michael Freeport

  Stokes nodded slowly. “Yes, sir, I understand. I will do my best to make him welcome and part of the team.”

  “Excellent, I expect nothing less. If there are no more questions, Commodore?”

  “No, sir. Thank you for your time.”

  Vesper nodded. Both men walked to the door and shook hands. Vesper said, “I know you will have a most successful tour of duty aboard the Rampart, Commodore.” Stokes nodded and left the office.

  Aden strolled up the boarding ramp towards the Rampart. He had arrived at the planetary spaceport and caught a shuttle up to the space port in Lashmere orbit. The automated security scan had allowed him access to the restricted area a hundred meters behind him. Aden glanced over his assembled gear, neatly stowed in the automated luggage carrier obediently following along behind him. He knew three years was the standard space tour but five years, or more, was a real possibility. He hoped he had brought enough supplies with him. He turned the corner and stopped short. Three Lashmere Space Marines were standing at a guard post about ten meters past the turn. Resuming his walk, he strode up to the men who eyed him with the alertness typical of marines.

  Aden extended his order packet and said, “Good morning, gentlemen. I am Lieutenant Commander Patho. I'm newly assigned to the Rampart.”

  The marine's eyes betrayed surprise at Aden's Karn accent. After a short pause, he took the order packet and looked it over. “Sir, these orders don't require you to report for an additional two weeks.”

  Aden sighed, not wanting to think about his family problems anymore and said, “Well, I cut my leave short. Since I had nothing else to do, I decided to come aboard.”

  “Well, that is very interesting, sir.” Aden was surprised at the contempt the junior enlisted man showed to an officer of his rank. The marine said, “Excuse me for a moment, please.”

  The marine ducked into the guard room and emerged a moment later with a senior non-commissioned officer. The NCO had the crossed swords signifying combat experience under his rank insignia. He waived the younger Marine back to his post and addressed Patho. “Sir, give me a moment to check your clearance.”

  “Very well, Sergeant,” Patho said.

  The NCO's expression hardened. “You're a Karn.”

  “That's correct.”

  “I didn't know we had any Karn officers,” the sergeant said. The man's feet shifted into the basic combat stance all military officers were taught at the academy.

  Aden tensed himself. He was more than two meters tall and in outstanding physical condition. He was also quite adept at hand to hand combat. Despite this, he had no illusions about winning against a single marine in hand to hand combat, much less the standing in front of him. “I'm the highest ranking Karn in the Lashmere Navy, Sergeant. I would advise you to be very, very sure of your next actions. They may have a terminal effect on your military career if you choose wrong.”

  The sergeant blinked. Patho's tone had convinced him he should at least double check before treating Aden as an intruder, infiltrator or saboteur. “Hold on a moment, sir.” The man disappeared back into the guard room and came back out a few seconds later. “Sir, the exec is coming down. She will decide what to do.”

  The four marines stood like cats eyeing a particularly juicy mouse for the next few minutes. No one attempted conversation. The tension only intensified with the sound of the lift behind the guard station coming to rest. The door opened, and a tall female officer came out. She looked the situation over and said, “So are you guys going to all club each other into submission or start kissing? I can never tell when men get so serious like this.” The slight curvature on her lips made it apparent she was attempting to cut the strained stillness hanging over the guard station.

  The Marines still did not move. “Ma'am, this Karn is trying to report aboard. There is a discrepancy with his orders.” The NCO said formally.

  “A discrepancy, hm? Let me take a look.” The Marine handed Aden's order packet to the executive officer. “Well, there is a problem.” She turned to Patho and said, “Why are you reporting aboard two weeks early?”

  “I decided to cut my leave short and report aboard when my plans didn't work out.” Aden paused, wondering how much information the statuesque officer would need from him.

  She took his pause as an opportunity to respond. “Very well, Mister Patho.” She turned to the marines. “Have you authenticated his identity?”

  “No, ma'am.” The marine sergeant said crisply.

  “Then do so.” The marine complied and within a few seconds, Aden was recognized and approved for entry to the ship. “Well, now. That wasn't so difficult, was it?” She shook her head slightly before continuing. “Your vigilance is commendable, men, but your compliance with ship's procedure is sorely lacking. I will recommend to your Lieutenant that you all receive additional training, so this won't happen again. Carry on, men.”

  The marines all stiffened to attention and barked, in unison, “Yes, Ma'am!”

  Patho and the executive officer entered the lift. As soon as the doors closed, she turned and said, “Marines,” Her eyes twinkled with unexpressed mirth as she gauged his reaction and then went on, “I'm Commander Linis Hanlon, your new executive officer. I'm sorry they gave you such a hard time. If you had contacted the ship and alerted us you were coming in early, we would've been ready for your arrival. I don't think we even have a berth for you yet, ah.” She paused and tapped the comm button on her wrist comp. “Quartermaster, exec. Our tactical officer has reported aboard. We need a bunk prepared for him immediately.”

  A tinny voice came out of the wrist comp, “Yes, ma'am. Give me about an hour, and it will be ready.” The comp chimed as the quartermaster closed the comm channel.

  Aden tried to keep his roiling emotions in check. Without thinking, he blurted, “Would this have been a problem if I had been an Ebrim officer?”

  Hanlon gave him a sidelong look, and her lips curved into a mischievous grin. She clucked her tongue at Aden and shook her head reprovingly. “Mister Patho, surely you are aware there are no Ebrim officers anymore.” Her eyes sparkled. “I'm afraid you've joined the wrong navy for that. It is my regretful duty to inform you that you have actually joined the Lashmere Navy. I hope this won't ruin your career plans.” A smirk appeared on her face and grew until it was a grin.

  Aden blushed. “Of course, ma'am. I meant-”

  “I know exactly what you meant, Mister Patho.” Her tone went from dry sarcasm to seriousness in the blink of an eye. “Until the world decides to accept the artificial unity we've forced upon it, I will delight in those who forget and those who cannot accept. They're the ones who will stop our coming greatness as a people. Which one are you, Mister Patho? Are you unable to accept our united planet? Or are you merely forgetful?”

  “Ah... neither, of course, ma'am. I am proud to wear this uniform and to be a member of our united forces.” His voice sounded hollow in his ears.

  Hanlon smiled again slightly. “Excellent. I will not hear of you misspeaking in this manner again, will I?”

  “Certainly not, ma'am.”

  “Good. The captain is off the ship at the moment. I'll alert him you have reported aboard. When we arrive at the ship, I'll give you a tour. That should give the quartermaster time to have your berth prepared and the captain time to get back from headquarters.”

  The lift stopped and opened onto a boarding concourse. The ten meter high windows looked out into the hard vacuum of the open space dock. Hanging there in crystal clarity was the Rampart. Like most members of the military, he was aware of the existence of the ship and the fact that it carried the most advanced systems ever developed by Lashmere's military, but the sight of the ship in its entirety made his breath catch in his throat. The ship was a long tapering hull with a series of roughly triangular bulges all colored in various shades of dark gray. It looked utterly functional and mercilessly lethal. Aden's eye quickly searched out and found the launching tubes for the drones he was there to oper
ate. Upon finding them, he had to revise his estimate of how large the ship was. The ship must be five hundred meters or more in length.

  Linis chuckled quietly, breaking Aden's attention. “Quite an impressive sight, isn't she?”

  “Oh, yes, ma'am. I knew... I mean I had read about her design, but she looks nothing like the last series of battleships from the war.” Aden paused and drew another breath. “She is a very impressive looking ship, ma'am.”

  “So she is. Follow me.” With that, Hanlon led Patho through the boarding tube. “Let's get that tour out of the way. There are a lot of people you will need to meet.”

  Hanlon led Patho on a lengthy tour of the Rampart during which time, Commodore Stokes returned to the ship from his briefing with Admiral Vesper. When Stokes learned Patho was already aboard the Rampart, he sent for him immediately.

  Hanlon escorted Patho to the captain's office. As they approached the office, she said, “The captain is a very highly decorated combat veteran. He should be an Admiral by now, but he was promoted to the rank of Commodore instead because the Admirals needed him to be the one to command Rampart.” No matter what rank the commanding officer of a ship held, they were always addressed as captain.

  Patho nodded. He had expected anyone senior enough to command the fleet flagship to have fought in the war, no matter how badly he wished it was otherwise. Asher's voice echoed in his ears. “Yes, ma'am. I will keep it in mind.”

  Hanlon stopped at the door to Stokes' office. “Good. I'll see your baggage stowed in your cabin. You can contact me on the comm when you're done talking to the captain.”

  “Yes, ma'am.” Patho watched for a few seconds as the executive officer strode away, her long legs making her move quickly despite her relaxed pace. He turned and tapped the admittance chime to Stokes' office. The door slid open almost immediately.

  “Mister Patho. Good. Please come in.” Stokes stood behind his desk and waved the younger man inside.

  Patho made his way in and sat at one of the two chairs Stokes indicated. “Thank you, sir.” Patho fixed his face into an expression of patient attentiveness, waiting for whatever Stokes had to say.

  “I've just returned from my briefing with Admiral Vesper. Although I haven't yet officially taken command of the Rampart, I wanted to take a moment to welcome you aboard. I understand you've been promoted to your current rank more than three years early because of your performance in the tactical drone program?”

  “Yes, sir. The officer in charge and I worked closely together to get the drone performance parameters in the simulators into sync with the real world drones.” The combat drone program was brand new, designed specifically for the Rampart and follow-on ships in her class. No ship had carried drones during the Karn-Ebrim war. “Once we had the performance right in the simulator, I just kept using them to the best advantage.” Patho felt a bit of pride at his accomplishments in the simulations. “Sometimes, they would put me up against three or four other students at once. One time, I beat every instructor at the school at the same time. That wasn't their fault, though. They thought the overwhelming numerical advantage they had was enough to crush me outright. Combat drones are much more effective when you use them like a needle instead of like a hammer.”

  “Well, the recommendations your instructors wrote based on that, and other training events certainly helped your military career along, Mister Patho. I know you're quite young for your post, and you must know you will be in command of officers and men who are older than you are. If you have need of guidance, you should come to Commander Hanlon or myself.”

  “I understand, sir. Thank you.”

  “When I was given my first department to command, I wasn't much older than you are now. That was during the war, of course.” Stokes paused to observe Patho's reaction to the mention of the war. Patho's eyes narrowed slightly, but he gave no other indication of his thoughts. “One of the enlisted men was nearly twice my age. His insight into how the men think and carry themselves was invaluable. I have assigned a similarly experienced man to be your leading chief petty officer. Chief Hogan will liaison between you and your junior NCOs and enlisted men. You also have a division officer, Lieutenant Junior Grade Fuchs. I want you to teach him everything you know about commanding drones in a simulation. We leave space dock in three weeks to begin our shakedown cruise, and I need the most highly trained team in the fleet.”

  “Understood, sir.” Fuchs had been in tactical training school with Patho. He'd graduated weeks earlier because Patho had spent so much additional time improving the training curriculum. “I'll do everything I can to pass my expertise along to everyone in my division.”

  “Miss Hanlon will assist you in drawing up a drill schedule. All personnel are expected aboard within the next two weeks. Once all assigned crew members have reported aboard, and all of the space dock personnel are gone, we will drill hard and fast. The Rampart is expected to begin long range operations in two months, provided the shakedown cruise goes well.”

  “If I may ask, where are we planning on going?”

  “Initially, we are going to explore the comet shield surrounding the Lashmere System. As you know, our system went supernova about four billion years ago. The debris and gasses may help us in understanding what the system looked like before that event. We have been to the comet shield before, of course. The real purpose of this is to prove Rampart's ability to operate away from support systems for extended periods of time. During this period of cautious exploration, the next ship in Rampart's class, the Rook, should be complete. The Admiralty feels that once there are at least two ships with interstellar travel capability in commission, we'll be ready to begin moving out of the Lashmere system itself.”

  “I understand, sir. Thank you.”

  “Of course, Commander. For now, I suggest you get your cabin situated and then introduce yourself to your division. If there are no other questions?” Stokes paused, and at Patho's negative response, said, “Very well, then. Dismissed, Commander.”

  Chapter 2

  Patho spent the next three weeks settling in. The officers and crew, after a short period of surprise at having a Karn officer, quickly became accustomed to his presence and mostly welcomed him into their ranks. Only a very few demonstrated lingering concern or unease at his presence. The Rampart departed space dock on time without incident. After a two week series of exercises, the ship began live fire testing of the combat drone system. As was usual for systems testing, the entire bridge crew of the Rampart was assembled, along with Marli Simmons, the technical adviser from Naval Research and Development.

  The thrum of launching drones rumbled through the deck plates below Aden's feet. Sensor displays bloomed with fresh data as the drones exited their launch bays and sorted themselves into flight patterns. "We have a normal launch, Captain."

  "Very well, Mister Patho," Stokes replied. "Engage exercise target at point alpha. Put the drone remote sensor data on the main plot."

  "Aye, sir." Patho tapped a few controls, causing the large central display on the bridge of the Rampart to shift its focus from a broad overview of the Lashmere system to a much tighter view of the tactical exercise area. The drone flight paths were light gray trails following the bright blue dots of the drones themselves. "The drones are on course to engage the target in seventy-five seconds, sir."

  "Acknowledged." Stokes turned his attention to the display for a moment and then said, "Correct me if I am wrong, Mister Patho, but it looks like they are holding their assigned vectors this time."

  "Yes, sir. It appears we have worked out the hiccup from the last test. I'm using the single pass pattern this time. Drones are entering attack range now."

  Stokes watched as the drones entered attack range. The drones sent back target damage assessments as they fired. The target lasted less than ten seconds in engagement range. His voice took on an edge of tightly restrained excitement. "Excellent. It looks like that target didn't stand a chance."

  "No, sir," Aden said,
trying to keep his conflicting emotions in check and out of his voice. The drones had been extremely challenging to troubleshoot and, worse still, they had been developed exclusively by the Ebrim. He took a deep breath and controlled his voice. “It looks like the out the worst of the bugs have been worked out of the system. The drones kept the AI net up for the entire attack run. Outputting the error correction data now, sir."

  The secondary plot blinked up a log of shared data that had run between the drones during the attack run. Stokes looked over at his executive officer. "Analysis, Miss Hanlon."

  Hanlon paused a few breaths as she visually inspected the information. "Sir, this data looks like the simulation runs we made before live fire exercise. At first glance, I can't see any anomalous readings at all."

  "Excellent. Recall the drones and prepare to maneuver to the next target area." Stokes leaned back in the command chair, feeling relaxed for the first time in weeks. The Rampart was a brand new ship, and her post-launch shakedown cruise had been especially challenging. So many of the systems on board were new designs with innovations from lessons learned during the war. There was virtually no background of experience to upon which to draw. During initial simulation exercises, the drones attacked each other immediately after launch and, once they had deemed themselves 'dead', then turned on the Rampart, which was saved only by the fact that the drones were firing simulated weapons. In subsequent tests, the drones' targeting systems interfered with their navigational sensors, causing massive flight path errors. Fortunately, the worst of the bugs had been eliminated, leaving minor glitches and errors to work out. Stokes was about to give the order to engage maneuvering engines when Hanlon held up her hand to Stokes.