“Very insightful, commander. I believe that answers many of my questions. One last thing. Have you ever sent any kind of information about ship movements or military logistics to your brother?”
“Of course not. The only thing I shared with my brother was a desire to have a better relationship with him. An overture he soundly rejected.” Patho considered the intelligence agent for a few seconds and then said, “I'm sorry, agent. I'm really tired. If you don't mind, I'd like to get some sleep.”
“Of course, Commander. I may have other questions for you, but they can wait for a later time.”
“Thank you.”
Cobb nodded and walked out of the room.
Simmons walked in right after the agent left. “What did he want, Aden?”
“I don't really know. I think he thinks my brother is responsible for the bombing. And if he thinks that, he probably suspects me of sending the information needed to carry out the attack.”
“That's ridiculous. You were nearly killed in the bombing.”
“Cobb doesn't seem to share your viewpoint.”
Simmons laid half on the bed with her feet still on the floor and rested her head on Patho's shoulder. “I'm sorry. I know this must be tearing you up inside. Cobb's a real jerk coming in and grilling you while you're still recovering.”
“No, I understand it, Marli. He needs answers. I just wish he could get his answers from somewhere else.” Aden was silent for a moment and just enjoyed Marli's closeness. “Most of all, I wish my damned brother would wake up and join the rest of humanity. Even if he wasn't part of the bombing, I know he would approve.” Simmons shuddered against his shoulder. Patho looked down at the top of her head. “Marli, are you crying?”
“A little. It's terrible to hear how your family has been torn apart. She looked up into Aden's eyes. Tears stained her freckled cheeks. She glanced at the clock on the wall. “Visiting hours are nearly up.” She wiped her cheeks and put on a bright smile. “I've got to go. I have to report in tomorrow. I'll come to see you as much as I can, okay?”
“Okay, Marli. Take care.”
Simmons stood up and left a lingering kiss on Patho's lips before saying, “See you soon, Aden.” With that, she was gone.
Aden stared at the ceiling for a long while, pondering the weight of his family against his career. It was like trying to solve a puzzle when the pieces refused to fit together. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and waited to get some sleep.
The next day, a doctor told him he would be transferred to a mobile chair that cradled his hips and legs. It was essentially a long wheelchair that allowed him to sit up straight with his legs stretched out in front of him. After the doctor had left, a cute blond nurse came in to give him a vigorous and embarrassingly thorough sponge bath that left him feeling, if not clean, at least less gross than he had been feeling.
The chair arrived a few hours later, and Patho completed the painful and difficult process of moving in to it. He was advised this would be his mode of transportation for the next week until his bones were completely healed and the casts could come off. His pelvis bone was also held together by a cumbersome inflatable cast that pierced his skin in several places with pins, holding the pieces of his pelvis in perfect alignment until the bones knitted. Once in the chair, he was subjected to two days of tests, scans and upper body physical therapy. Fortunately, Patho had been in peak physical condition before the bombing. By the end of the fourth day in the hospital, he felt mostly normal. He'd learned to cope with being in the chair and was beginning on regular food. His sleep schedule had also returned to what it had been before the bombing. He still slept a lot longer than was usual for him, but it was at night now and not at random times throughout the day.
Simmons came to see him the morning of the fifth day. She looked nervous when she walked into his room.
“Aden, if Cobb comes back to see you, just request legal counsel. He grilled me yesterday about anything you may have let slip while we were... being intimate. It was a humiliating conversation.” Simmons began pacing back and forth at the foot of Aden's bed. After a moment, she flounced into the chair in the corner. “Aden, did you hear me?”
“I did. He was asking you about our time together?”
“Yes. He definitely thinks you had something to do with the bombing. I don't know what he's after, but I know you didn't do anything to help the separatists. Just make sure you protect yourself. Cobb's out for blood. I don't want that blood to be yours.”
“Thanks for the warning, Marli. I'll be careful with him.”
“Good. Now, let's take a walk. Well-” Marli gave him a grin and a wink, “I'll walk, you can roll along with me if you want.”
“That sounds nice.” Patho carefully levered himself from the bed to the chair. He was breathing hard by the time he got himself settled. Once he got his wind back, he said, “Lead the way. I'll follow your lead.”
Simmons headed towards the main entrance. “There's a park on the far side of the property. It's really nice out. Let's go there.”
“Sounds wonderful.” Aden hadn't had any sun on his skin in over a week, and suddenly he found the idea to be incredibly appealing. The pair moved around the garden for more than two hours, talking of inconsequential things. As they started to head back, Commodore Stokes came into view from behind a hedge. He was still in his wheelchair with his left leg sticking straight out.
Simmons said, “Commodore, how are you doing today?”
“Fine, Lieutenant. Just taking in some sun. The doctor tells me I'll have this cast off in a couple more days. It'll be nice to get back on my feet.”
Patho said, “I know what you mean, sir. I'm really tired of this chair.”
“Well, only a couple more days,” Stokes responded. “When are they taking the hip cast off?”
“At the same time. The last set of scans they did they showed I was healing extraordinarily well. I should be good as new in another two or three weeks. It'll take a while to build up my physical strength and stamina again, but at least I haven't suffered any permanent damage.”
Simmons looked at Stokes and said, “I'm glad you're healing up well, sir.”
“Thank you, Miss Simmons. How's your new assignment going?”
“Good. The shipyard refit is a massive project. Kind of makes me wish Captain Hanlon was here to organize the logistics. She could really make things happen when she put her mind to it.”
Stokes' gaze unfocused for a few seconds before he responded. “I hope she's okay, wherever she is.”
“We all do, sir,” Patho said. “She's one tough cookie. It'll take more than a few crabs to do her in.” Patho's false bravado seemed to buoy the mood somewhat despite the fact that everyone knew it was meaningless.
“If those poor crabs actually meet her, I'm sure she'll teach them a thing or two about how interspecies relations go,” Simmons said.
Stokes said, “Regardless, I'm sure we'll see her again.” Giving his head a shake, he asked, “Any new developments on the ship planning, Miss Simmons? You're the only one back to regular duty since the bombing. How's the new shipyard admiral taking to his duties?”
“You mean Admiral Brand? He seems good. I only met him once. He gave a good address at the change of command ceremony. He kept Blackwood's old exec.”
Admiral Brand was Admiral Vesper's executive officer at Command, wasn't he, sir?” Patho asked.
“He was. I served with him for a tour of duty a few years ago. He's a good officer.”
“Who was moved up to replace Admiral Vesper, sir?” Simmons asked.
“I don't know, yet. Whoever got that posting has some pretty big shoes to fill.”
“I only ask because I heard a rumor that you were going to get that position, sir.”
“They haven't offered it to me, Miss Simmons.”
Patho said, “Regardless, it's the second most important duty assignment behind the fleet admiral. Whoever is tapped for the post is going to have to have a really st
rong command presence. What about the captain of the Bastion?”
“Captain Misato?” Stokes asked.
“Yes. Didn't his daughter go with the expeditionary force?”
”I think she did. He might be a good candidate for the post. I've never worked with him, but he has an excellent reputation,” Stokes said.
“So where do you think you'll end up, sir?” Simmons asked.
“For now, I plan to retain command of the Rampart. I have an exec that's just coming into his own, and I have to replace my science officer for the second time in six months.” Simmons smirked at the comment. Stokes continued, “I have a couple of people in mind for the spot, though. The academy graduated another class while we've been convalescing, and there was a really strong science officer who received meritorious advancement to Lieutenant upon graduation. Apparently, she's done something pretty amazing with our faster than light sensors. Lieutenant is a low rank for the position, but I'd rather have someone a bit young for the rank with excellent potential than someone who came to the position by dint of seniority rather than ability.”
The group lapsed into silence for a moment after Stokes' finished speaking. Patho said, “Well, sir, I suppose we'll let you get back to enjoying the sun. I'll see you when I report aboard.”
“Very well, Mister Patho.” Stokes nodded to Simmons and said, “Lieutenant, take care of this man. I need him back on the Rampart in good condition.”
Simmons broke into a smile and said, “I'll do that, sir.”
Simmons and Patho went back to his room and then Simmons left. Aden spent the next two days working his arms out as much as he could, trying to regain some of his stamina. His doctors cautioned him against excessive exertion, even after the casts came off. The following day the casts did come off, and Aden realized just how much the injuries had cost him. He was barely able to stand. His legs were covered in scars from the surgeries needed to realign his bones and glue them together. His hips were covered in scars as well. All of his joints ached after only a minute or two standing upright, and he had to support himself with a rail to do that. The doctors told him the weakness was normal, and his strength would return rapidly with a moderate regimen of calisthenics followed by light strength training after six more weeks. The doctors repeatedly cautioned him against straining the newly healed fractures in his bones. The glue needed time to completely solidify and become stronger than the surrounding bone. Patho tried to assure them he wouldn't go overboard, but he was dying to get into the gym to restore his body to its previous strength.
The next day, ten days after the bombing, he made his way in a wobbly fashion up the ramp to the Rampart's boarding concourse. His legs were still weak, but he was able to make short walks unassisted. Occasional stops for rest were needed. He reported for his first day of duty after release from the hospital on the same day Stokes returned to the Rampart.
Stokes signaled him to come to the captain's office. Patho tapped the entry chime, and after the door swished open, he said, “Captain, Lieutenant Commander Patho reporting as ordered.”
“Come in, Mister Patho. Please, sit down. You look ready to fall over.”
“The walk up the concourse was taxing, sir.”
“Why didn't you use one of the luggage carts?”
Aden was stumped by the question. “Honestly, sir. I never thought of that.” Aden laughed and said, “If I had, I would have been here an hour ago. My legs are feeling a lot better, though. They forwarded a set of injections for me to take daily. The ship's doc has them. In another week, you'll hardly be able to tell I was injured.” Patho took a seat as he spoke. “Sir, I have to ask, where did you get these chairs, and can I get one for my cabin? These things are incredibly comfortable.”
“Between you and I, I have no idea. They came with the office.” Stokes tapped the console on his desk before stepping around it to join Patho in the second chair. The two men turned to look at the screen on the far wall. “The fleet hasn't been idle in our time convalescing. They set up a series of sensor satellites and repaired the system of satellites that barred anyone crossing into the system at faster than light speeds.”
“Have we gotten anything new from the sensor system?”
“A deluge of information has come through. Analysts are still sifting it into usable data, but the long and short of it is that the crabs have been kicking the crap out of the alliance over the last six weeks. Our newest scans indicate the alliance base where the expeditionary force was stationed has fallen. We're going to take Rampart to confirm this once the crew is filled out and we're supplied for the trip.
Patho nearly rubbed his hands together in anticipation. “Excellent, sir. I'm looking forward to teaching those crabs how ineffective they are at fighting us.”
“We will be joined by the Rook and the Stalwart. With the assistance of the Aeternum, both ships have been completed. Bastion is the only old style ship still not in mothballs. The Aeternum can literally build a Rampart class ship in three days. The video of it is astonishing. Once we have a system picket of ships, we'll begin experimenting with new ship designs. The Aeternum has been updated with our faster than light travel method. The production computer suggested a few refinements that allow us to make up to twenty-five light year jumps. Safety interlock is now set at eighteen light years. We also installed an upgraded sensor suite and communications suite.” Stokes shook his head. “I watched the Aeternum manufacture the parts for the Rampart's upgrades. Took less than two hours. The bits just sort of grew in space.”
Aden said, “Amazing, sir. Has the Aeternum produced anything else?”
“Two other things. The first batch of shipyard upgrades have been completed. We tasked the Aeternum with producing smaller versions of itself. There was a design for one kilometer rings with identical capabilities on the ship's files. We popped four of them out at once. The first four docks in the shipyard are now being retrofitted with the new manufacturing rings. The other thing it produced was a prototype stealth ship. Admiral Brand has an idea about ships that can't be detected. He instructed the ship to produce the most advanced ship design for stealth action possible. Take a look at the result.”
Stokes tapped his data pad. The display changed to show a ship unlike anything Patho had ever seen. The ship was an elongated diamond resting atop what had to be a smaller version of the manufacturing ring itself. There was a wide set of angular projections both forward and aft on the top of the ship. The whole ship was pitch black, making the exact shape difficult to make out even on the screen.
“Is that ring a manufacturing ring as well,” Patho asked.
“It is. Apparently, all advanced ship designs include the capability to 'resurge' according to the database. With a small ring a couple of hundred meters across like that one, you could make a second ring half a kilometer across and then a two and a half kilometer ring, followed by a five kilometer ring. The five kilometer ring is, apparently, the pinnacle of design as far as the Aeternum's database is concerned. When asked, the computer did acknowledge that larger rings could be made, but there seems to be no reason to make such a ship. Bigger ships that are completely crammed with offensive and defensive technologies become little more than mobile bases. The second issue with larger designs is one of mass and inertia. The materials engineering is an issue for bigger ships. They could rip themselves apart under torsional stress without very careful structural design even with the most advanced materials in the manufacturing database. Smaller, tougher and more maneuverable ships are the rule here.”
“I see, sir. What about that stealth ship? How hard is it to detect?
“It flew within a hundred meters of one of our sensor satellites at full throttle, weapons fully charged, and we didn't see it.”
“Wow. Where do I sign up to get one of those?”
Stokes chuckled. “Get in line, Commander. I think the admirals will commission a series of ships based on the experimental design. For right now, it's just a prototype with a number of po
ssible permutations. There are also several problem areas with the design. It has no defensive capability, and there are a few other issues.”
“May I ask what they are, sir?”
“The available power is pretty limited in stealth mode. When using full throttle and at full power, the ship still can't accelerate half as fast as Rampart can. Weapons power is also pretty minimal compared to a full on warship of the same tonnage. Probably between fifty and sixty percent the offensive potential.”
“But delivered without warning, at the most opportune possible moment, surprise is one of the most decisive advantages a captain can have on the battlefield, sir,” Aden observed.
“I agree. I've been communicating with Admiral Brand on that very subject and suggested that all ships at least include some level of stealth technology. Giving us the ability to hide and operate under minimal power with negligible chance of detection would be of tremendous value. We're exploring ways to retrofit the technology to ships of Rampart's class.”
“Speaking of Rampart, have we uploaded our drone technology to the manufacturing computer?”
“That was the last thing I was going to tell you about before we broke for the afternoon. Rampart will be getting a full complement of newly designed drones. These drones will be virtually undetectable, carry half again the firepower and have twice the defensive abilities over the previous drones. Expected manufacture is day after tomorrow. Once Rampart has completed refit and testing of her new systems, we're heading out with the Rook to see what's happened at the alliance base. It's a little over five jumps. We have the ability to shorten it to four if the way looks clear. The star charts aboard the Aeternum are pretty out of date, as you might imagine. We're using our new sensor network to update as much as we can, but a lot of things can't be detected until we are much closer.”
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