“Aye, sir. I'll get the preflight done.”
Patho vanished into the cockpit airlock. Stokes turned to Simmons and said, “Miss Simmons, there is a very serious problem with your performance. I was going to wait to talk to you, but as I need your scientific expertise so badly for this aspect of the mission, I cannot allow you to continue to make any kind of leadership decision or have authority over any of my officers or crew while here. I know you didn't want to be assigned to Rampart for this mission, and I am also very much aware of your near constant assignment to various research laboratories and special duty stations. Rampart is a main line combat and exploration ship. You goaded that poor junior enlisted man into briefing the commanding officer with no preparation and no guidance. You further embarrassed him by poking him in the ribs when he was so nervous he could not clearly articulate his thoughts to me.
“Officers have a position of authority that is a brutal instrument when misused. The men and women under our collective leadership look to us for exemplary behavior. I will not allow someone who demonstrates such poor judgment to continue undermining morale and efficiency on my bridge. Once we return from this hop, you can consider yourself relieved of duty and assigned to an observational role aboard Rampart.”
Simmons stood, her eyes peering somewhere between Stokes' nose and mouth, rather than looking him in the eye. “I understand, sir. Since I am already relieved of duty, a development I accept with great relish, I might add, I will simply say I have never tried to do anything wrong. I just don't belong on the bridge of a combat ship, sir. I know you don't like me, and I know you never wanted me on your ship. I have tried and will continue to try to do what needs to be done for you while we're over there and once we get back.” Simmons shrugged expansively. “I know from where you sit, I'm too far along in my career for help with leadership training, and all that, but instead of just verbally stomping on me every time I do something that particularly irritates you, did you consider taking me under your wing instead? I mean, you are a great leader, and everyone knows it. You fought in the war and pretty much everyone on the crew thinks very highly of you. Leadership doesn't come as naturally to me as it does to you, though.” Simmons sighed deeply before saying, “Let's just get this trip over with, sir. I'll stay off your bridge and out of your hair for the rest of the trip. I promise.” Simmons turned and cycled the airlock before Stokes could recover from his shock at how Simmons had responded to him.
Stokes shook his head and pondered Simmons' point for a moment before stepping into the pinnace himself. Perhaps he had had his own set of prejudices regarding Simmons.
The inner airlock door opened, and Stokes stepped into the tiny space behind the two pilot seats. “Status, Mister Patho.”
“Preflight complete. As soon as you're ready, we can detach airlocks and proceed out of the boat bay. The space door is opening now, sir.”
“Very good, Mister Patho. Make way for the artifact best speed.”
“Aye, sir. Detaching airlocks now.” Patho keyed the intercom and said, “Brace for thrust. We are getting underway in ten seconds.”
A short countdown later, Patho engaged the engines and got the pinnace clear of the boat bay. Patho worked the controls with smooth, sure motions, and soon the pinnace was sliding silently through the space between Rampart and the origin artifact. Stokes studied it as it came into view. The closer they got, the more seamless and shiny it looked. Almost as through it was forged from a single piece of metal. The gleaming surface was without blemish or markings.
“Bring us up one kilometer from the tip of the center pod. Once there, send the signal as instructed.”
“Aye, sir,” Simmons said and put the signal into the comm panel. “Ready to transmit once we're in position.”
“Very well, Miss Simmons. It won't be long now. ETA, Mister Patho?”
“Another minute or so, sir. Just nudging it in so we're at a zero motion relative before we transmit.”
The time passed silently until Patho gave Simmons a nod. “Transmitting, sir,” she said.
Patho didn't know what he expected, but the tip of the pod suddenly splitting open and retracting to reveal a massive hangar was not it. At best, he expected some kind of external airlock to be made apparent. “Sir? Shall we proceed?”
“That's why we're here, Mister Patho. Just set us in gently. Do you see any airlocks in the hangar?”
Simmons said, “No, sir. There are a number of other small craft, though.” She pointed to the small display in her console, zoomed in on a variety of small craft that seemed to have the same manufacturing process of the artifact itself.
“What if this is a ship?” Patho said.
“I've been wondering the same thing,” Simmons said, “Could you imagine the energy needed to make a point to point jump for something this big? It would take twenty ships like Rampart.”
“That's if we could even find a way to project a jump ring big enough. The space-time deformation would be so massive. It might only be able to jump in interstellar space. A sun's gravity well might make such a huge jump ring impossible.”
“No, I think it could be done. It's not about size, it's about the interaction between the gravity well and the jump ring. More interaction, but that could always be dialed out. You just need a fast enough computer, known quantities and a lot of power.”
The pinnace ground gently against the hangar deck. “Touchdown,” Patho said.
“Sir, the doors are closing behind us,” Simmons said.
“I was rather expecting that, Miss Simmons. I suspect they will let us leave when we want to.
“Sir, the hangar is pressurizing. Seventeen percent oxygen, eighty-three percent nitrogen. No trace gasses. Temperature is twenty-five degrees. Looks safe to exit the pinnace.”
“I still want full pressure suits. Marines exit first, clear the area, then the scientists and us last. Leave two marines to guard the pinnace. Pass out hand scanners to map the area. This thing is so massive we could get lost and literally spend the next year wandering around looking for the way out.”
The exit from the pinnace went according to plan, and as the crew stepped out, a series of blue lights appeared on the floor, clearly indicating a path to follow.
“Follow the line, people. Maintain combat spacing. Mister Aves, keep a pair of your men on point and on rear guard. Scientists and navy in the middle. If we lose radio contact with the pinnace team we'll backtrack and set up a relay.
“Aye sir,” Aves said. “Gear check and proceed by twos, people!”
The small group spread out in a fifty meter long line with the Marines leapfrogging along the scrolling blue line from one cover point to another. The marines checked for signs of life as they went, but there were none.
As the group progressed, the line led to a door in the far bulkhead. A few minutes later, the group was spread along the wall adjacent to the door. Many of them were taking cover behind one of the silver small craft lining the floor of the hangar.
Stokes moved up to where Aves was, just behind the point team. “Okay, Mister Aves. I'm going to try to trigger the door. If I can open it, I want your point team to door clear and give us a go/no go.”
“Aye, sir.” Aves pointed at the two men on point at that moment and made a series of hand signals.
Patho watched the exchange and shook his head slightly. Marines... He suppressed a slight chuckle and turned to see an expression on Simmons' face that made him think she had had the same thought process. The two shared a smile.
Stokes moved up to the door in a crouch before moving across the threshold. The door whipped open just as Stokes was moving across the center. He flung himself headlong to take cover on the far side.
The command radio circuit burst into Aves' voice. “Go, go, go!” Door clear on point!”
The two men leaped into the door which almost immediately closed. Stokes righted himself and crouched on the far side of the door holding his sidearm. All eyes were on the door. After te
n seconds, Aves said, “Point team, report.” There was a long pause, and he said again, “Point team report.”
The door whipped open again and one of the point men said, “Can you hear me, now, sir?”
“We can, corporal. What happened?”
“We lost comms as soon as the door shut.” The man moved into the doorway and braced himself as it started to close. Servos in the power armor began to whine as he held the doors open.
“We'll have to wedge the door open or find a way to transmit a signal through the door. I'm not willing to proceed without maintaining comms with the Pinnace,” Stokes said. “See if you can determine the shielding qualities of the door, and check the mechanism to see if it can be made to stay open.”
Simmons and Patho started working in the panel while Aves ran back to the pinnace to grab a pry bar to wedge the door open. By the time he got back, carrying the heavy length of metal, Simmons has found a frequency shift their comms units were able to use that cut through the door with only mild interference.
Simmons couldn't stop herself saying, “What is it with you and that pry bar, Mister Aves?”
“I bring this thing with me everywhere. You would be surprised how many field problems can be solved with a bit of prying.”
“Oh, I believe. I've seen it first hand.”
“Cut the chatter, people,” Stokes said. “Advance by twos. Aves take charge of combat movement. Stay with the illuminated path.
“Aye, sir,” Aves said.
The team continued along a series of corridors, placing signal boosters and stopping to scan and scout the area multiple times as they went. The blue path never wavered, continuously pointing them ever deeper into the artifact. Their progress came to an end when they approached a large door with the word clearly spelled on it 'Bridge'.
Stokes approached the door. Like the last one, it whipped open soundlessly as he moved toward it. “Aves, enter and clear.”
Aves moved his team into the room, followed by the naval officers and scientists once he signaled the room was clear. The blue pathway winked out, and illumination came on throughout the space.
“I wonder what kind of ship this is,” Patho said. “Only a ship would have a bridge, right?”
“One would think so,” Simmons said.
Patho walked towards the center, stepping into a bright blue ring painted on the floor. As he paused there, a brilliant flash of light filled the bridge, causing everyone to throw their hands up in front of their eyes despite the efforts of their armored helmets to compensate.
When the flash faded, a clicking sound began and then a voice seemed to boom from all around them.
“Life signs confirmed. Status is human, no genetic deviations noted. Genetic corruption status, not found. Strain zero through one hundred eighty-seven of omega plague not found. Access granted. Preparing for event seven alpha.”
Everyone boggled at one another, their eyes round in confusion. That wasn't all. The voice spoke in a rolling, almost lyrical accent. The same accent Mister Patho spoke with. The Karn accent.
“Greetings, humans. Welcome aboard the manufacturing ship Aeternum. This ship has been placed here to ensure the survival of the human colony placed in the planetary system designated Lashmere. Genetic analysis indicates within acceptable limits current occupants of Aeternum are humans from same. Preparing for system startup. Passive radiant shielding expanding. Passive sensors tie-in with networked computer.
“Warning: Potential hostile vessel located five hundred kilometers on the bow. Indicate target status.”
Stokes barked out, “on-hostile! The contact is Rampart, a friendly vessel.”
“Non-hostile accepted. Designation Rampart. Assessing.”
There was a long silence while everyone continued to stare at one another in disbelief. The ship started talking again after roughly a minute of silence. “Tech level one-point-one. Innovative faster than light system. Weapons tech level zero-point-six. Defensive systems one-point-four. Analysis complete. Inference, humanity has lost much of their technology prior to returning to retrieve Aeternum. Supporting factor, duration of dormancy estimated at five thousand standard years. Calculating exact value.”
“I think the ship is automated?” Simmons said, ending the sentence more in a question than a statement.
“I think you may be right, Lieutenant. The way we were brought aboard. If there were people here, they would have met us in the hangar or at the airlock. And, I think there would definitely have been people on the bridge.”
“Assessment correct. Aeternum currently unmanned. Command structure must be established. Aeternum must be placed in control of the legitimate government of Lashmere. Request, provide input for command.”
Everyone was stunned when Cobb spoke in a bold bass voice. “Designate Theo Cobb, Master and Commander. Sequence seven alpha theta nine nine two blue commit.”
“Command access accepted. Aeternum now under command of Theo Cobb.”
The comm circuit exploded as everyone tried to speak at once. Stokes shouted everyone down. “Silence on the line! Mister Cobb... or should I say, Agent Cobb? Explain yourself immediately.”
Knowing there was no point in continuing the charade, Cobb admitted the truth. “Agent is correct, commodore. Excellent deductive reasoning. Intel was placed on this mission to ensure the ship was brought back under control of the Lashmere government. You have a ship, already, commodore. This one will be flown back to Lashmere and then placed under control of the Lashmere government. An asset of this importance must be handled properly.”
“I resent your high-handedness, agent. Had you chosen to reveal your mission to me, this could have been handled without you barging in like this.”
“Like you, I have my orders, commodore. I couldn't allow you to start designating a team of officers from your ship to command this one back to Lashmere.
“Officers like Mister Patho, you mean. Oh, yes, agent. I see right through whatever genteel argument you have prepared already. You saw I was about to start designating command staff from my current choice of officers, so you felt you had to act. Your kind of prejudice is exactly why the war lasted as long as it did and why so many died. Mister Patho has repeatedly proven his loyalty to the people of Lashmere. You can plead you had orders to take the ship back to Lashmere yourself, but we both know you were just unwilling to see it commanded, however briefly, by someone who grew up Karn. Admit it, agent.” Stokes' face was flushed, his fists clenched at his sides. His breath was coming hot and fast. The sanctimoniousness of the man was astonishing.
Cobb kept an inscrutable mask over his features. His voice was another matter, however; it came out tight and even more clipped than his accent could account for. “Commodore, I will overlook your attitude this once. If you continue in this belligerent manner, I will use the Aeternum's systems to have you placed back aboard your pinnace and ejected.” Cobb's eyes fixed intently on Stokes' and did not waver.
Patho watched the exchange and was amazed to hear Stokes standing up for him as he was. He felt a swelling of pride to have his commanding officer back him up so stridently. Somehow, he swore to himself; he would prove he was worthy of the trust and respect Stokes placed in him.
Stokes took a deep breath and composed his thoughts before proceeding. “You can expect a formal complaint from the Office of the Navy upon our return to Lashmere, agent. Barring further obstructionist actions on your part, I will continue to work with you rather than against you. Now, since you have had yourself placed in command, we should begin researching how to get the Aeternum underway and back to Lashmere.”
“Commodore, you simply don't understand. I am in command, here. I will give the orders and make the decisions.”
“Yes, you have used your inside information to gain control for now, but your actions still have to be justifiable. Even the intelligence office answers to the same civilian government as we do. You have a ship with over four hundred crew aboard outside. Do you plan to eliminate al
l of them to bring the ship back yourself? Are you so paranoid?”
“Commodore, you misunderstand my intentions. I am merely ensuring the Aeternum doesn't find its way into the hands of the Karn resistance.” Cobb held up his hands to forestall Stokes' response. “I know Patho is loyal, but we have strong evidence his family are members of the resistance, even now. I simply cannot allow such temptation to be paced at odds with potentially divided loyalty. My decision to command Aeternum stands.”
Stokes growled-growled!-under his breath before saying, “Very well, Agent. You can expect a full report to be made. Since you've decided to force everyone's hand, I will place ten crew aboard to divine the method of faster than light travel and to plan a course back to Lashmere. You will accept the crew I place aboard, agent.” Stokes' eyes blazed as he spoke. “I intend to maintain control of the mission I was assigned to. Do I make myself clear, agent?”
“Quite, commodore. I will, of course, accept the crew you place aboard.” Stokes turned and settled into the command chair. “Aeternum begin main startup. Provide written instructions to command chair for systems initiation.”
“Main systems startup underway. Instructions provided,” the ship said in its lyrical accent.
“Ship update interface preferences. Mimic linguistic accent and inflections of current commanding officer, Theo Cobb.”
There was a pause before the ship responded in a perfect imitation of a northern Ebrim accent, clipped and harsh, “Interface preferences updated.”
Patho felt like he had been punched in the gut. For a moment, it had seemed that it was a Karn ship. Just a scan of some kind he guessed. Sighing deeply, he moved towards a bridge console which looked like it could have been designed at any shipyard on Lashmere. He began experimentally tapping commands. Almost immediately, the computer began to provide contextual help as he familiarized himself with the operation. “Sir, this looks like an operations panel. Power distribution, engine status, Life support system status and so on.
Simmons sat down at another console and began running through functions herself. “This one looks like database access, sir. I'll start compiling relevant information for a report.”
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