The Nameless War

by Edmond Barrett

  Still it left Flores with the major problem of replacing his second in command. He would have dearly liked to have replaced Wilfor with one of his existing officers; they had all meshed well together, but they lacked experience, particularly given the importance of their assignment. Normal procedure at this point would have been to get an officer from another ship. Given that they were docked at Baden, the biggest fleet base outside Earth’s solar system, this shouldn’t have presented a problem. Unfortunately bad fortune once again smiled on them, most of the Third Fleet was out on manoeuvres around Landfall. Those ships that remained didn’t have the calibre of officer he needed.

  Finally after two days, and one fairly direct transmission from headquarters asking what the hell Harbinger was still doing at Baden, a replacement was found. Commander Faith Willis had been on a courier being taken back to Earth for her next assignment when the urgent signal had turned it around.

  When her file first arrived on his desk Flores was certain he had found the solution to his problem. Her record was impressive, with excellent reviews and a startling number of technical courses successfully completed. It was only after he said yes and went back over the file he started to develop reservations.

  Her previous assignment had been as a staff officer at the fleet’s ground base on Landfall. Previous to that she had served for just over a year as the first officer aboard the Heavy Cruiser Odin. Her superiors from both these assignments had written favourable appraisals. Yet they seemed to Flores to be slightly… cool. Nothing he could put his finger on, indeed he might simply be reading things into the accounts.

  There was a tap on the door.

  "Come in."

  A woman in a commander’s uniform walked in, came to attention and saluted.

  "Commander Faith Willis reporting sir."

  "Thank you Commander, please pull up a seat."

  Flores took the opportunity to study his new first officer. She was approximately average height with a slender build and auburn hair cropped short. Her features were pretty in a delicate sort of way but currently flat and expressionless.

  "Well Commander, welcome aboard. I’m sorry we had to drag you back out here, I expect you were looking forward to seeing Earth again." Flores started.

  "Thank you, sir, the reassignment was something of a surprise." She replied calmly. "But I am looking forward to getting started." Her voice was quite soft but a Northern Irish accent remained detectable.

  "How much do you know about our assignment?"

  "Only what I’ve read in the media, sir."

  "You’ll need to read through the mission profile in full, but for the time being I’ll give you the abridged version. We are to seek the aliens that the Mississippi encountered…"

  "The Nameless, sir." Willis interrupted.

  "What?"

  "The media is calling them the Nameless." Willis explained.

  "Oh… Not very imaginative by their standards." Flores shrugged. "Anyway we’re to find them and if possible make contact. Alternatively gather information about them. Either way, first sign of hostility we turn around and run like hell."

  Willis nodded her face expressionless. Flores frowned inwardly, any officer would treat their new captain with caution until they figured out what made them tick, but this interview was starting to feel very laboured.

  "We’re also more heavily manned than is normal. As well as our regular crew we also have science, diplomatic and marine contingents. So it’s going to be hot bunking all the way."

  "I’m sure our people will manage, are they already aboard?"

  "No, they’ve been aboard our tender while we were waiting for you. I’ll be honest with you Commander, this is not best circumstances for a new officer, particularly a first officer. I’m going to need you to get up to speed pretty much immediately. We are going to be getting under way tomorrow afternoon, barring any more disasters. Do you have any questions?"

  Willis looked thoughtful.

  "I don’t believe so, sir. It sounds like I have a lot ahead of me." She commented. "With your permission I’d like to get started."

  "Find Chief Benson he’ll help you find you way around. I’ll see you in the morning."

  "Thank you, goodnight, sir."

  When she was gone Flores remained in his seat, his fingers drumming on his desk. The slight reservations he had were upgrading themselves up to serious concerns. She seemed very… reserved and Flores wasn’t sure he liked that. Then he shrugged to himself, people sometimes just sucked at interviews, hopefully that was the case here.

  Even in the age of modern interstellar travel there were still strict weight limits on personal belongings. One positive thing about those weight restrictions was it made unpacking very quick, Willis reflected to herself as she closed her cabins small storage locker. Loosening her jacket she lay down in her bunk with hands behind her head. The cabin was tiny, little more than a two metre cube, but in the cramped confines of a warship to have such a space to yourself was a rare privilege. On Harbinger only the Captain, First Officer and Chief Engineer had their own cabins, the rest of the officers were two to a cabin with the ranks in three separate messes.

  After a few minutes she blinked as she realised that the low rumble of the centrifuge was lulling her to sleep. As she roused herself to change she thought about the interview with her new captain, it seemed to have gone reasonably well and it was certainly her good fortune that the posting had come her way. The ship itself was extremely interesting, the Herald Class were the newest cruisers in service with the fleet. Designed to serve as the eyes and ears of the main battle line, they weren’t particularly well armed or armoured, but they had unrivalled acceleration and the best electronic warfare systems of any human ship. It was especially those systems that Willis was looking forward to getting her hands on.

  ____________________

  Seven weeks later

  "This isn’t going to cut it, Boson." Willis said as she examined the computer pad. "I want this reorganised… properly this time."

  "With respect ma’am," replied Bosun Daler, "this was signed off by Commander Wilfor." There was a weary note in the petty officers voice.

  The two them were in the number two storage hold. Around them, filling almost every cubic centimetre of the chamber, were boxes and storage bins. As the storage holds were situated in the main hull containers were attached to every surface, including the ceiling. It was the nature of those attachments that was bothering Willis.

  "Commander Wilfor is no longer serving here Bosun," She replied frowning, "and so I’m not interested in what he signed off. Single bindings are not strong enough."

  "Yes ma’am for the heavier containers I agree, but it’s unnecessary for the lighter ones. It’s also going to make getting anything a lot more difficult."

  The commander looked completely unmoved by this argument.

  "I’m not interested in a debate Bosun, just get it done before the end of the next watch." Without waiting for an answer she turned and pulled herself out of the chamber. Once Willis was safely out of earshot Daler allowed himself a heartfelt sigh, it had been nearly a week since he’d been subject to the last ‘Willisism’ as the crew had taken to calling her orders. He’d almost started to hope that she might have toned things down, but no. From a certain point of view the order made sense. If a ship were hit hard the containers could break loose, damaging their contents and anyone who happened to be in the cargo hold. But in the case of a light ship like Harbinger such a blow would probably cave in the hull, making the lashing down of containers a moot point. His wasn’t the only department getting the commanders attention and while some had benefited from her expertise, others would have been better off if she had just left well enough alone.

  "Excuse me, Commander Willis?"

  At the sound of her name Willis looked around, the source was Professor Bhaile the leader of the civilian delegation. A short, fat and balding man in his mid fifties, he always seemed to favour clothing cut sli
ghtly tighter than Willis thought suited him. Whenever, such as now, she saw him in zero gravity he always reminded her of a rubber ball she had as a child.

  "Yes Professor, what can I do for you?"

  Bhaile brought himself to a clumsy halt beside her.

  "I wanted to have a word about what you said to Leah Moir. She came to me in a very upset state. She said you actively threatened her…"

  "I believe my wording was that if I found her gear in the access way again I’d heave it out the nearest airlock and her after it." Willis replied.

  "Commander I don’t believe that language is at all appropriate!" He replied with indignation.

  "Professor, Ms. Moir has been told more than once not to spread herself across the entire deck. Blocking a main access way, even temporarily, is unacceptable."

  "She isn’t a soldier, Commander."

  "But this is a warship. One which may be required to go to action stations at any time. I’m not prepared to see someone being carted off to sickbay because they tripped over one of her belongings."

  "I don’t think an emergency is very likely while we’re in jump space Commander."

  "An emergency tend to be by its nature unexpected." Willis replied wearily.

  "NOW HEAR THIS. NOW HEAR THIS. ALL SENIOR PERSONNEL, TO THE OFFICERS’ MESS." Squawked the intercom.

  "Ah you’ll have to me excuse Professor." She started to push herself down the corridor.

  "Yes we’ll continue this later."

  Willis brought herself to a sharp halt; she looked back over her shoulder.

  "No professor, we won’t. This conversation is finished."

  "I’ll keep this quick." Flores started as he looked around the table. "We’ll be jumping into the next system in about ninety minutes."

  "Do we know anything about this solar system?" Major Tigran, commander of the ship’s marine contingent, asked.

  "No. We’re now well beyond any previous telescope observations." Flores replied.

  "Are we realistically expecting to find anything in this system?" Chief Engineer Cian Seoige asked.

  "Not likely Chief. We are only thirty light years away from the last location we where in real space. There was no sign of any radio transmissions so the best we can hope for is to pick up the trail again."

  So far the mission had been maddeningly unproductive. For several years ships operating out beyond Landfall had been reporting radio transmissions of an unknown origin. The transmissions had been strong enough to confirm that they weren’t natural but too weak to be legible. But they had offered Harbinger an obvious place to start their search for the Nameless. Like Hansel and Gretel following the breadcrumbs Harbinger had started to track the steadily strengthening transmissions back to their source. Then abruptly the transmissions stopped.

  It was inexplicable.

  There was only one plausible reason why they were no longer picking up radio signals. No one was transmitting. Yet that didn’t make sense. The only way a civilisation stopped putting out any radio transmissions would be to go pre-industrial.

  The exact cut-out point was undoubtedly currently somewhere in interstellar space so instead they had backtracked to where they had been receiving the transmissions. They then travelled ‘sideways’ in an attempt to get a second bearing on the source. Unfortunately the distance was simply too vast to get a decent triangulation. So Flores was forced to make his best guess and grope forward blindly.

  "Anyway it’s going to be the usual drill, we’ll be making re-entry at the twenty light hour mark and seeing if there is anything of interest. The crew will close up on stations in about an hour."

  "Captain, how much further are we planning on going this run?" Willis asked.

  "This system will be the last stop before we head back. The only question is do we top off from the supply ship again or do we head all the way back to Baden?"

  "From the mechanical point of view everything’s good. For my department there is no reason to return yet." Seoige replied.

  "Good." Turning to Willis "Commander, what about the crew?"

  "The regular crew are fine. The civilians are a bit more of a problem." Willis replied. "They’re getting a bit surly about the hot bunking, it doesn’t help that there is nothing for them to do apart from staying out of the way. It would probably help if we could drop some of them off until we definitely find something."

  "Not really a runner Commander, sadly, the council’s instructions were pretty specific." Flores replied with honest regret.

  Hot bunking was a process by which two crewmembers on different shifts were assigned to the same bunk. When one got up to go on duty the other would go off duty and go to bed. As a ship designed for long range operations Harbinger did have enough bunks for the normal crew to have one each but with the compliment swollen with civilians hot bunking had been the only way of packing them all in.

  "If there is nothing else people then we may as well get on with it." As everyone rose to their feet he added, "Commander, can I have a quick word."

  Willis waited her expression carefully blank. Flores expression was equally unreadable. Seven weeks in space and she remained as unknown to him as the day she stepped aboard.

  "Commander I want to have a word with you, regarding your performance."

  "In what respect may I ask, sir?" Willis replied with a note of caution entering her voice.

  "Your disputes with the crew and civilian staff."

  "I didn’t realise complaints been made, sir." She responded stiffly.

  "Only from the civilian staff, who tend not to pay much attention to chain of command. The details I have received indicate that you were correct in all cases. What concerns me is your handling; it… lacks subtly and generates unnecessary friction. They are civilians, and while I agree that doesn’t mean they can do what they like, the handling needs to be different."

  "I see, sir."

  "Which brings me to the second point; your relationship with the rest of the crew, I noticed your command style is very abrupt."

  "You said no complaints had been made, sir."

  Flores smiled slightly.

  "I hear the ship grapevine as much as anyone else commander. You aren’t getting the best of people and your relation with the ships NCO’s particularly worrying me."

  "I will attempt to improve that, sir."

  Flores stared at her for a moment.

  "All right, Commander. I’ll see you on the bridge in a while."

  He watched her leave the cabin with a frown on his face.

  "All hands prepare for jump-in." Commander Faith Willis’s voice came over the intercom as Captain Flores pushed himself down the corridor toward the bridge. Around him ratings were moving quickly to their stations. While the chances of hitting something in the vastness of space were incalculably small, it was the policy of the fleet that when jumping into an uncharted system all hands wore their survival suits and closed up on their combat stations. In theory by spreading the crew across the ship it reduced the number of people any single strike could kill. It also meant that if they found themselves in hostile territory they would be as ready as possible to defend themselves.

  Entering the bridge Flores pulled himself along the hand bars of the ceiling towards the command chair. Terms like ‘up’ and ‘ceiling’ were of course extremely subjective in the zero gravity environment of the main hull, however it had long been recognised that humans were designed to think in precisely such terms. Therefore all starships had one direction designated as ‘up’ for all non centrifuge sections.

  "We are now at twelve minutes from realspace re-entry, Sir." Willis reported as she pulled herself out of the command chair. Their earlier conversation certainly didn’t seem to have broken her composure, Flores thought to himself.

  "We’re still on track for re-entry on the twenty light hour mark."

  Flores nodded to himself satisfied before a thought occurred. He gestured Willis closer.

  "By the way, who’s due to win the
sweep if we find something?" He murmured referring to the small betting ring on board that he officially knew nothing about.

  Willis thought for a moment her expression one of clear disapproval. The ship betting ring was something he had heard of before her, another bad sign regarding her working relationship with the NCO’s, and he had stopped her from closing it down. Flores believed such activities offered a harmless diversion.

  "PO Hedges and Rating Sharma I believe, sir. Oh and Rating Mesa still has a chance to win if our first encounter with these people is incoming missiles."

  "Gloomy beggar. all right Commander you better be going."

  As the Commander headed aft toward the auxiliary control centre Flores pulled on his survival suit.

  "Deceleration for jump out complete, sir. Jump out six minutes." The helmsman reported.

  Flores watched the shimmering tunnel of light of the jump conduit on one of the smaller screens.

  "Thirty seconds to realspace re-entry." called out the helmsman.

  Flores put on his helmet and flicked on the main intercom.

  "All hands brace for re-entry." He announced before closing the helmet visor.

  The deck trembled as the jump drive started to strain to push the ship back into realspace. The main displays blanked out as the computer received the usual surge of data it couldn’t make sense of; Flores felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. Then with a final jerk they were through. The displays lit up again and their operators launched into feverish activity. The first minute or two of any jump-in was always the most dangerous. Effectively a ship was blind while it systems re-established themselves and waited for the first radar returns to come in. If by some mischance there happened to be something unfriendly within firing range of the jump-in point the first you’d probably know of it was when their first shot hit you. However, as with the rest of the systems they had already investigated, Harbinger was confronted with lots and lots of nothing special.