Scouts Out 3 - War

by Danny Loomis

  Grant smiled. “Excellent. Let’s go, I’m starving.”

  * * *

  “This is our first mission,” Irish said, pointing at the screen he’d displayed on the front of the cockpit. “The main sensor station for the star system is on the second moon of Alamo.” A large building was displayed, sitting on the side of a small mountain that thrust up from the moon’s surface.

  Shag cocked his head, a quizzical expression on his face. “Jeez, man, that place is more sensitive than my-uh-than a sore tooth. Y’even get close, they start hollering. And once we get within spitting distance, they’ll pick up our emanations, even if cloaked.”

  “Yeah, but hold on. I think I see where he’s goin’ with this.” Willy moved a cipher near the ground next to the station on the screen. “The ground route’s vulnerable. If I remember right, most of its detecting abilities are aimed out into space, so it can collect data from the detection hardware spread out around Alamo’s system.”

  Irish grinned and slapped Willy on the back. “Right the first time.” He turned to Shag. “I want you to figure out how close we can get the shuttle to the front door without being noticed. Willy, since you spotted the way in, you can come up with a present to leave them.”

  48 hours later the on-duty officer for the sensor station on Alamo’s second moon, Grendel, received a one-second data blip from the direction of Sector HQ. He acknowledged, then downloaded the information. A quick scan, and he hit the panic button next to his work station.

  The raucous “Woop-woop” had the entire station’s staff scrambling. Captain Gerry, commander of the station, rushed in. “What’s up, L.T.?” His eyes lifted to the screen. “What the hell is that?”

  “Uh-Don’t know, Sir. I was waiting for you.” The screen in front of him was scrolling the same message over and over: “Check outside your front door.”

  Gerry straightened, a feeling of foreboding crawling down his spine. He turned to the security chief who’d just arrived. “Bring up camera one, will you?”

  Once the scene outside the door came into focus, Gerry’s face turned scarlet. “Son of a goddamned bitch.” He turned and stormed back towards his office. “That bastard! Grant will never let me hear the end of it now.”

  Outside the door a small sign, no more than a third of a meter to a side, was propped against a rock. “Greetings from Erebus,” it read.

  * * *

  “That was so enjoyable,” purred Shag. “Jeez, we should’ve been doing this more often.” He rubbed his twice broken nose.

  Irish shook his head. “Not a good idea if you don’t have permission to do it, like we did this time. They’d probably lock us up and throw away the key. Military folks don’t have a sense of humor when it comes to security.”

  “So what’s next?” Willy asked.

  A tap on his keyboard brought up an image of a carrier. “This is. It’s the Rumsford, part of the Wing that’s protecting Sector HQ. Any ideas on how to breach its security?”

  “Uh-might need a minute on this one,” Shag said, scratching his head.

  An hour later, Irish leaned back with a smile. “You two guys are brilliant. Both your ideas will work.”

  Willy and Shag gave each other disbelieving stares, and shook their heads in unison. Willy finally voiced their concern. “But our ideas are so different from each other. How can you say that?”

  He chuckled. “That’s the beauty of it. You two come up with the ideas, and I figure out ways to make ‘em work.”

  Willy shrugged. “So how you gonna tie those ideas together?”

  “Listen and you shall hear, my friends…” he continued talking, holding the two of them spellbound.

  That’s a fantastic plan, boss,” chortled Shag. “Damn, if it works it’ll be one for the ages.”

  “Yes, but it depends on a lot of factors,” Irish said. “You two need to answer the list of questions we’ve come up with about their security. And their sensor systems as well.”

  “Consider it done,” Willy said. “We’ll get right on it.”

  It was four days before the communications technician onboard the carrier Rumsford alerted. “Incoming message from our Wasp screen, Sir.”

  “Put it on the speaker,” Captain Young said. “And heads up. I’ve been expecting some kind of probe from that spook ship since yesterday.”

  “This is Rabbit One. We got three bogies moving our way. We’re going out to engage now.”

  Young stabbed down on a button. “Fox One, have all your flight go now. Support Rabbit flight.” He flicked another switch. “Commander Ingle, get the next flight prepped and out to support the three Wasps to our rear, will you?”

  He’d just turned back to the screen when there was a flash to their front, followed by another on each flank and to the rear. Their screens fluttered, before once more settling down. “EMP missiles. Smart, but not smart enough.”

  The sensor tech turned to Young. “Rabbit flight’s wasps are blind, but Fox’s ships were still in their bays when those went off.”

  Young turned back to his commo tech. “Tell Commander Ingle to empty the bays-all ships that are ready, take off now. Have those returning remain in a holding pattern until the outgoing ships are all away.”

  For the next five minutes, all of the Rumsford’s bays were busy handling the heavy traffic of takeoffs and landings. By now, everything the Captain hadn’t prepared for an electromagnetic pulse had recovered, and all systems were green.

  Young eyed the screens, a smile of satisfaction forming. “By God, I think we…”

  “Captain, incoming message from bay forty-three,” the commo tech said.

  “Huh?” He looked around in confusion. “Put it on the speaker.”

  “Um-Sir, I think it’d be better…”

  “Put it up!” barked Young, frowning at him.

  “Ahoy, Captain. This is the Erebus, paying you a courtesy visit. I understand from Commander Grant that you’ve invited us for lunch. Are we too early?”

  * * *

  Irish set a box of chocolates on the desk of Grant’s receptionist. “These are for you, Ms. Hensley. They’re also from Willy and Shag.”

  “Why thank you, kind sir.” She smiled while reading the attached card. “Very nice, Captain Shannon. And all the way from Alamo. Please, call me Agatha.”

  “From where?” Grant’s head poked out of his office. “Did you say from Alamo?”

  Irish walked towards him, a grin forming. “Right. When we stopped in to visit the base, we thought it’d be nice to bring Agatha back something.”

  “Haven’t heard a thing from them,” Grant said with a headshake. He moved behind his desk and sat.

  He shrugged while settling into the chair next to Grant’s desk. “Probably won’t until tonight or tomorrow. We left a present for the Commandant’s birthday party his office was throwing for him today.”

  Grant leaned back with a theatrical groan. “What did you do now?”

  Irish held up his hands, trying to look innocent. “Don’t look at me. Shag’s the sneakiest guy you ever saw when it comes to misdirection. Strolled right in to the Commandant’s office and left a present on his desk while Willy kept the receptionist busy.”

  “Do I want to know what was in the package?” Grant asked, arching an eyebrow.

  “Probably not,” he said, holding back a laugh. “But I better tell you. It was a plaque with yesterday’s date on it. Said ‘Erebus was here’. So I’m sure you’ll hear from them.” He handed Grant a data cube. “We already sent the overall exercise results to you, but this one’s not on it.”

  “I thought I told you guys to take five days off after I got the last report from you. “What…”

  Irish felt his face heat. “Well-truth be known, we’d already taken four days off. So thought we’d better do two more jobs before tomorrow’s briefing.”

  Grant straightened, a suspicious look crossing his face. “Two?”

&nb
sp; “The details of the second one are on that cube, too. We stopped in here and had lunch at the Officer’s Mess two days ago. Pretty busy place, too. You and a couple other officers

  were across the room eating, so we charged our meal to your table. Said we were part of a team having a security conference your office was hosting.”

  Now Grant did groan, shaking his head. “Well, hell. One of those officers was the Sector Admiral, and she picked up the check.” He brightened, straightening up. “Y’know, this might work better than I thought. I’ve already put together a briefing for the Command Group about the security weaknesses the Erebus brought to light. I can show that even the Admiral was affected.” He gave him a hopeful look. “Did you detail how you snuck into here, like the others?”

  Irish nodded. “Same for the Alamo base. That one was the easiest.”

  Grant gave him a once over. “By the way, I haven’t seen you look this good since before that flight school fiasco.”

  “You can thank my crew for that. We really do work well together.”

  “I will tomorrow. Now get out of here and enjoy your last night off.”

  ALAMO STAR SYSTEM, SECTOR HQ (Day 0)

  Irish and his crew followed Grant into a small conference room. This time he was wearing Commodore’s tabs on his uniform. Ten men already seated around the table came to attention when Grant entered. “Be at ease. Please, everyone, take a seat.”

  Irish tried not to stare at the ten strangers on the other side of the table. Looked like they were all cut from the same cloth. Close to or over two meters tall, varying shades of yellow hair–and heavily muscled. They were most likely part of the mission to Eire. Must be why Grant was a Commodore this time. He’d never pretended to be that high a rank before. He gave a closer look at the men. They must be more important than he’d thought.

  “This briefing is classified Top Secret, and restricted to Alpha-rated personnel only, under the General Warpowers Act.” He turned to Irish and his crew with a hint of a smile.

  “Although the brief is mainly for the crew of the Erebus, I wanted you to meet the ten patriots we are returning to Eire. They’ve just completed training, and need a ride.” He indicated the man closest to him. “Would you mind introducing yourself and your team?”

  He stood, a serious expression on his face. “My name is Brian Smith, and I’m the team leader of this bunch.” He waved an arm at them. “Everyone else is also named Smith, which might confuse things a bit. But it’s best y’don’t know our real names, in case you’re captured.” He sat, looking expectantly at Irish.

  At a nod from Grant, he stood. “I’m Captain Ian Shannon, originally from Eire myself. The other two are Willy and Shag. They have other names, but for the same reason you gave, they’d rather not share them.”

  Brian guffawed while Irish seated himself. “B’god, it’s good to have a man of the Green take us home.”

  When Irish had spoken Grant tensed up, but relaxed at Brian’s response. Irish’s eyes once more moved to Brian. If he made Grant nervous, must be a really big fish in his pond back home. He gave an internal shrug. No skin off his nose.

  “Let’s get to it,” Grant said, turning on a projector that lit up the front of the room. “The trip from here to Eire is two weeks in length. During that time, Brian will keep out of your business, and you out of his. Understood?” Everyone nodded. “Good. Irish-er, Captain Shannon, you will not only be delivering personnel, but a state of the art planetary communications system. It sends an ultra-low frequency signal through the earth itself, and can only be detected by specialized equipment, which the Eirans will have once you deliver the goods.” The screen showed ten large boxes, a meter to a side.

  “These devices will be emplaced by the Eirans. Once on planet, you will assist in transporting them, if necessary, to where they’ll be set up.” He gestured at Irish. “Since you command the ship, realize one thing: Its safety and security are to be considered first, as is your crew. Don’t let yourself be talked into any mission that unnecessarily endangers the ship.”

  He glanced around the room. “Are there any questions? If not, this portion of the briefing is closed.” He gestured at Irish. “Captain Shannon, please have your men stand by.” He turned, smiling at the others. “Brian, if you and your team will follow me?”

  Irish looked at the other two. “Sounds like an easy mission the first time out. What’re your thoughts?”

  Shag rubbed his nose. “It’s the easy ones that worry me. Something always seems to come up to make ‘em more complicated than they need to be.”

  “Amen,” Willy said. “Anyways, we better double up on tools and spare parts. I been coming up with a list while we sat here. How about you guys?”

  They were interrupted when Grant strolled back in and seated himself. “Now we can get to the second part of your mission brief.”

  Irish smiled at Shag. “You were right again.”

  Grant gave him a suspicious look. “What? What was he right about?”

  “Nothin’ much,” Shag said. “Willy and me been around you long enough to know there’s no such thing as a simple mission.”

  “You could be right on this one,” he said with a chuckle. “Anyway, after you’ve delivered the commo system, you’re to make yourselves available in a limited manner to the leader of the rebels. They tend to call themselves patriots, by the way. Like I said, though, don’t unnecessarily risk you and your ship.” Grant looked directly at Irish. “I know it’ll be hard, but don’t make any overtures to contact your relatives. It could endanger them. You understand?”

  Irish nodded. “Understood, Sir.”

  He handed out a document to each of them. “A second mission will raise its head at least a month or more after you’ve arrived there. You’ll get contacted via combat channel ten.” He indicated the forms he’d given them. “They will identify themselves using that information. You’re to put yourselves under the command of the officer in charge of the mission they’ll be conducting.

  “In this case, you will do everything possible to make sure they have your hundred percent support, to include any risk the OIC feels it’s necessary for you to take.” He tapped the table. “Let me be sure you understand. What the second mission accomplishes may shorten the war considerably. Therefore, it is of highest importance you do everything in your power to see it is accomplished.” He gave each of them a long look, face serious. “Do you understand?”

  Irish came to attention in his chair. “Understood, Sir.”

  Grant relaxed, face creasing into a smile. “In that case, you’re to report to Docking Bay 19 tomorrow at 1000 hours. Load up what’s there. If you need any other supplies, tell the NCOIC in the bay, and it’ll be delivered there ASAP. Tonight, though, I want you to report to the Officer’s Club by 1900 hours. I’m buying.”

  “Awright, Mister Grant!” Willy said. “Does that include drinks?”

  * * *

  Forward screens of the Erebus showed the familiar wave lines seen when approaching a nexus. “One minute until transition to N-space,” Irish said. He turned to Shag. “Are our guests observing entry?”

  Shag nodded. “Got ‘em watching it on their monitors, boss.”

  There was a chuckle from Willy, seated behind Irish. “Betcha a drink they’re disappointed. First-timers tend to think there’re lotsa fireworks when we go through.”

  “No bet,” Irish said. “Entering N-space…Now.” Sensor screens darkened due to no incoming data.

  “How long did you say for this run?” Willy asked.

  Irish checked his board before answering. “1000 hours five days from now we’ll reach the Grolen system. Then about a day’s transit to the second Nexus point we’ll need to use in that star system. From there, seven days before we exit sixty light minutes from the planet Eire.”

  “Couldn’t we enter closer to the star, and still sneak in?” Willy asked. “Gonna take us at least a week to move in-system from
way out there.”

  Irish flipped a switch, putting all systems on automatic. “Yes, but better safe than sorry. We don’t know what they’ll have parked on top of the Nexus points close to Eire. Wouldn’t want a capital missile be the first thing that greeted us, would you?”

  “Not me,” Shag said. “Plus this way I’ll get to beat Smith number three a few more times at Galactic Outlaw.” One of Shag’s favorite pastimes was inventing and playing computer games. He’d gotten all the passengers interested by their first day in space.

  “You better let ‘em win a few times,” Willy said. “In a couple more days they won’t want to play you any more.”

  After unbuckling, Irish headed for the hatch. “I’d better go talk to their team lead. See how they’re holding up.”

  “You were right,” Brian said when he entered the bay. “Nothing to see. Guess that’s why they’ve dubbed it N-space.” He’d just unbuckled and was flexing his shoulders. “You said there was some workout equipment on board?”

  Irish crooked a finger and moved to the back wall. On the left side was a sliding door that led into a small workout room. Inside were four treadmills, three weight resistance machines and a recumbent bike. “Why don’t you have one of your team come up with a schedule for each piece of equipment? And please include us in that schedule, will you?”

  “I’ll do that, Captain. By the way, we appreciate Mister Shag sharing his collection of computer games. We haven’t had much chance to relax and enjoy ourselves for several months. Tell him thanks.”

  Irish smiled. “To tell you the truth, he’s thrilled to have more suckers to beat in those digital games of his.” He held up a finger. “Be warned, though; if he loses a game a couple times and wants to bet you money or a beer on the next game, it’s a set-up. I already owe him three drinks. Slow learner, I guess.”

  Brian grinned. “Warning taken, Captain.”

  “I’d better get back to the flight deck,” he said. “Hopefully you don’t get too bored for the next couple weeks. Not much happens when we’re in N-space.”