by James Rosone
Bailey finished his drink and locked eyes with Sanchez. “You didn’t have to tell me about the consequences of the terms. Why did you?”
Sanchez smiled at the younger man who had been gunning for his position for years. “Because despite our differences, Chester, I think you’re the right man for the job. You’ve got a strategic eye for things, and that’s what Space Command needs right now. You were right about the transport fleet. I should have seen that, but I didn’t. Now we’re paying for the decision.”
He sighed as he refilled his drink again and held it in his hand. “We’re entering a new race with the GEU and the Asians. We’re going to need a younger, stronger man at the helm to lead us through this period. We won’t get that from the politicians; we need that to come from Space Command. I believe you’re the man to get that done and to really cement the head of Space Command’s status as the strongest and most powerful person in the country. I can guide you with the politics, introduce you to the right benefactors, but you’ll need to make your own way at some point. That is, if you still want my job…I’d understand if I scared you off. You’re in the second most powerful position in the military right now, so I wouldn’t fault you if you wanted to stay put where you are.”
Bailey shook his head. “I’ll do it,” he declared. “If you’re willing to help me learn the political ropes, I’ll cement this position as you envisioned it to be.”
Now it was Sanchez’s turn to smile. “I knew I could count on you. Now, as one of your first acts as fleet admiral, you’re going to need to know how to handle this.”
Sanchez pulled out a small holographic disk from his pocket. He placed it on the table between them and hit play. A moment later, an image of a man appeared along with some documents lined up next to his image.
“What’s this?” asked Bailey, concern in his voice.
“When President Roberts and the Senate opted not to renew the Space Exploration Treaty, the GEU, African Union, and the Asian Alliance did. Not only have they renewed the treaty, but they’re also moving to establish a new joint governing body that’ll fold all of their economies, technologies, and peoples together to pursue with one effort the further exploration and colonization of the Centaurus constellation and all its moons and planets.
“Our spy within their space program was able to obtain a copy of their findings on Alpha Centauri and the rest of the constellation they’ve explored up to this point. It’s simply incredible, Chester. The planet is rich in resources, and so are the moons and other planets in the system.”
The admiral paused for a moment before adding, “You were right, Chester. I was wrong, gravely wrong, to have gone along with abandoning that mission. We never should have backed out of that expedition or the SET. Our worst fears are now coming to fruition because I didn’t stand up to President Roberts when I should have. Now we’re going to have a united world government with multiple habitable planets they can call their own.”
Bailey shook his head. The alcohol and the realization of how tough a position they were in both suddenly hit him. He understood now why the old goat was retiring. He didn’t want to deal with what was coming down the pike or the consequences of his decisions. It’d be months before they received a probe with any news or details of how the Rhea expedition had fared or what they had found. Right now, all they had to go on was the news of the incredible find the other nations had made in the Centaurus constellation.
Shaking his head again, Bailey replied, “Perhaps it was good that you overrode me and had us build up warships first. We may end up needing them.”
Sanchez placed his hand on Bailey’s shoulder. “You need to speed up the production of those transports you’re building and order many more. The Rhea expedition may yet prove to be a bigger find for humanity than the Centaurus constellation. You need to have our people ready to exploit that opportunity when it comes.”
The two men talked for a little while longer as they drank more of the smooth tequila. The coming weeks and months would prove to be a challenging time for Space Command.
*******
Musk Industries
John Glenn Orbital Station
Andrew Barry sat at his desk, studying the newly appointed Fleet Admiral Chester Bailey skeptically. Narrowing his eyes a bit as he leaned forward in his chair, he eyed the admiral for a moment. “This is a tall order, Admiral,” he finally said.
Not one to mince words, Admiral Bailey quickly countered, “If you’re not able to handle it, I can see if BlueOrigin can pick up your slack.”
Andrew snorted at the mention of his chief rival. “I didn’t say we couldn’t handle it,” he countered. “You’re just asking an awful lot from us in a very short period of time.” He swiveled in his chair to look out the floor-to-ceiling windows of his office on the orbital station. “As you can see, we’re hard at work completing the original request for the Ark-class ships. We’re still at least two years away from completing that second battlecruiser, the Queen Mary. Now you’re asking me not only to design and build a fleet of sixty transport ships but also to compete for a contract to build not just a new battleship but a space carrier? We haven’t even invented the technology for what you want these ships to do, Admiral.”
Andrew turned around to look at Bailey and caught the man looking out the window. He was probably envious of such a view. Down at the lower portion of the orbital station, they could see the two vast shipyards on either end of them. Further off toward the African continent, they could see the other orbital station and a similar smattering of shipyards, no doubt just as busy as the Republic ones.
In a hushed tone, Bailey said, “Andrew, as a country, we’re in a precarious situation right now. I need the help of your company to even the score—to be as prepared as possible for the future.”
Andrew lifted his chin. “I understand the situation we’re in, Admiral. That buffoon President of ours and the Senate have placed us all in a precarious situation. Without the SET, the other shipyards are now actively building warships of their own. Not only do they have two new planets to colonize, they’re also building a navy that will overtake our own in the next two decades. I’m not sure even BlueOrigin or Musk Industries will be able to keep up with their combined capabilities.”
The admiral looked a bit defeated at the news. “What about the Mars station? The yards out there have been building up in size, haven’t they?”
Andrew nodded. “They have. Even now, we have four frigates under construction. We’ll begin construction of four more once they leave the yard. Our capabilities on Mars are still growing. Most of the transports we’re building will be used to take needed supplies to Mars and the Belt. I hate to say this, Admiral, but we’re still at least one or two decades away from Mars being a fully self-sufficient colony and industrial center.”
Bailey sighed. “Andrew, do you have a stiff drink around?” he asked.
Pulling a bottle of Kentucky bourbon out of the bottom drawer of his desk, Andrew poured them both a healthy glass and passed one to the admiral.
“Andrew, I think Musk Industries and BlueOrigin have done a good job with the shipyards you guys have. But as we move forward into the colonization of space and the building of a real honest-to-goodness space navy, we’re going to need a much larger and more capable shipyard. Right now, there’s only so much that can be done with the yards connected to the John Glenn. I think it’s time we start looking to build an independent yard—one that has space to grow and can become a massive structure to support and build the type of warships we’re going to need for the future.”
Andrew’s left eyebrow rose. “That’s a big proposition,” he replied. “Where would you want to build such a yard?”
“That’s a question I have for you. Do you think we should build a yard in high orbit over Earth, the moon, or somewhere in between?”
Andrew took a sip of his bourbon and contemplated. “If we’re going to build a long-term military shipyard,” he said at last, “we need
to make sure it has enough room to grow and expand. We also need to make sure it’ll be able to build the monstrous ships we’ll begin to build at some point. We’re already running into problems trying to build the Arks at our current facilities because of their size. I think we should probably place this new facility just beyond the moon. It’s close enough to Earth so workers can travel there, but far enough away to give us room to work. The bigger challenge we’re going to face is resources. We’re already stretched thin with the ships you’ve asked us to build.”
Bailey nodded. “I’ve thought about that as well, and I’ve got a plan. The shipyard itself is going to be owned by Space Command, but we’ll probably have it managed by shipbuilders like yourself and BlueOrigin. As to the resources to build it, I’m standing up a new naval fleet. We’re going to field hundreds of mining barges to hit the Belt to acquire the resources needed to build this yard. This will make sure we don’t interrupt the supply chain for your own projects.”
Andrew let out a sigh of relief. “I’m glad you said that, Chester. Supplies are already hard enough to come by for all these ships. If we had to compete with you guys for the resources to build this new yard of yours, I was going to tell you to expect a big delay in finishing these ships.”
“I agree, Andrew. That’s why we’re going to try and run this through the military. I need you guys focused on building these new ships. Speaking of which, how soon until the Ark ships are complete?”
“At least three years,” Andrew replied matter-of-factly. “I might be able to cut that down by six months, but that would require me to purchase at least another thirty thousand synthetics. I also won’t be able to start work on this new battleship until well after they’re done. Aside from the manpower for the Arks, they’re chewing through more resources than you can possibly imagine.”
The admiral let out a defeated sigh. “I understand, Andrew. But I need a preliminary design on the battleship in six months. Once Space Command’s had a couple of months to pick them apart, we’ll ask both you and BlueOrigin some technical questions about them before we determine who wins the contract. Don’t chintz on this, Andrew. This is going to be a contract for ten ships with an option to build ten more. We’re talking about a twelve-trillion-dollar contract.”
Andrew smiled, his eyes narrowing a bit. That was a lot of money. It would double the value of his company. “I’m confident Space Command will like the design we have in mind,” he said, voice calculated. He paused for a second before adding, “Our engineers believe we’ve found a way to double the speed of the FTL drive. I wasn’t going to mention it right away—we still have to test it—but if it works, Admiral, then I’d like to recommend we add this new capability to all the ships we currently have under construction.”
Bailey smiled at the news, and then his look soured a bit. “Let me guess—this is going to be a costly addition for Space Command?”
Andrew shrugged. “Research and development is expensive, Admiral. I have shareholders I’m responsible for. I’m sure we can come around to an acceptable price.”
The admiral snickered. Then he leaned forward, closing the distance between the two of them. “If this proves to be true, and it happened to be worked into the current ships under construction, and you could retrofit the Rook and Voyager when they return, I think I might be able to sole-source the bid for this new battleship.”
Andrew had always liked Admiral Chester Bailey. The man knew how to drive a hard bargain. Bailey had fed enough Space Command contracts to make sure Musk Industries stayed competitive against BlueOrigin. A sole-source contract for the fleet’s new battleships, though—now that kind of cash and long-term construction project could push Musk Industries ahead of any of their competitors for decades to come.
Extending his hand, Andrew replied, “I think something could certainly be worked out, Admiral. Come, join me for dinner. You’ve never had a dining experience like this. I had our engineers build it for me. It’s a complete floor-to-ceiling glass box with a table and a set of four chairs essentially floating in space. Only my special guests get to dine in this thing. It’s as if you’re eating a fine meal directly in space.”
Chapter Fifteen
First Contact
Rhea System
RNS Rook
Captain Miles Hunt lay naked under the bedsheets in his cabin, the door locked. There were two hours until he was due on the bridge. He had just placed this holographic visor on his head and turned the device on. Instantly, he was transported to Earth, remembering a wild romp with his wife.
For weeks before Miles had left for this deployment, Lilly and he had worn a pair of VR cameras during their private interludes together. His wife had reasoned that if they were going to be separated for two years, then they should create a couple of these holograph videos of themselves. She wanted to make sure her man wasn’t tempted during his deployment, and she wanted a visual memory of him for her own pleasure.
Miles had been dead set against it for fear that it could somehow be stolen, but Lilly had eventually talked him into it. Now, having been gone from his wife for coming up on seven months, he was glad she’d talked him into it; these VR sims had given him something to look forward to in the little off time he had.
Besides the bedroom encounters, they had also recorded themselves having dozens of different conversations. Some were of them having breakfast together, others were walks along the Florida beach. His personal favorite was the one of them just sitting on the couch together watching a movie. The stress of these last few days had been building, and he needed an escape that didn’t involve the usual vices people often turned to on Earth, like alcohol or drugs.
He missed his wife. Lilly was everything to him, his true partner in crime. They’d known each other since their senior year at the Space Force Academy. They had gotten married just after graduation and served together for two years until she had become pregnant with their eldest son. She’d then transferred to the reserves to finish her military commitment. That was thirty-two years ago. They had been stationed at the Neil Armstrong Base on the moon for several years, then they’d spent a ten-year stint on Mars before he’d done a couple of tours on two different military space ships before he spent six years as the chief of staff to Admiral Bailey, Head of Fleet Operations.
Now as the Rook hid behind an asteroid twelve light-years from Earth, Captain Hunt felt lonely. He desperately missed his wife. As his mind fooled his body into making love to her right now, he wished she was actually here with him on the Rook—sharing in the experiences of exploring a new planet and seeing some of the most incredible star formations and nebulas he’d ever seen. Even after his wife had left Space Command, she’d continued working in the field of astrophysics. She loved studying the stars and was immensely jealous of his assignment to the Rook and his new mission.
The months on end of nothing but blackness grated on a person’s psyche. Sure, they had seen some incredible sights during some of their stops to recharge their FTL drive, but they didn’t replace the warmth of a sun’s rays on your skin, or the senseless banter of people talking in a restaurant or coffee shop. The ability to share these incredible sights with the one you loved left him longing more and more for home and Lilly’s embrace than he thought he could bear. In the depths of space, all anyone had was the people and stuff they brought with them.
He laid his head back on his pillow, his mind reaching a state of ecstasy. Suddenly, the speaker in his room yelled, “Captain to the bridge!” Then the general quarters klaxon started.
Sorry to disturb you, Captain. Long-range sensors have just detected a ship entering the system, Commander Longman, his XO, said over the neurolink.
Thank you, XO. Stand down the GQ alarm but have everyone continue to man their battle stations. It sounds like that ship is a long way off. I’ll be up there in ten minutes.
Placing his VR headset in the drawer next to his bed, Miles got up and jumped in the shower. He needed a cold one to clear his
head. They’d been floating in the Belt for nearly five days waiting for this ship to arrive. Now it had.
The timing could have been better, he thought with a chuckle.
A few minutes later, Hunt walked onto the bridge in a freshly pressed uniform and took a seat in his captain’s chair. “OK, people. What do we have?”
Commander Longman, who had been on duty at the time of detection, led off first. “Sir, we just detected a ship entering the system approximately one AU from New Eden. Since arriving in the system, it’s been moving toward the planet at a pretty good clip.”
Hunt held a hand up. “XO, let’s not use ‘a pretty good clip’ when talking about the ship’s speed. Give me specifics. How fast or slow is it in comparison to us?”
Blushing a bit, Longman replied, “At impulse speeds, it’s traveling twenty-five percent faster than our MPD drive can at full speed. We’re still not sure how fast they can actually travel, though. As to its propulsion system, we’re still analyzing it. It looks to be using some sort of plasma drive similar to ours, but we’re not one hundred percent sure just yet—we’re still analyzing the data returns from our sensors.”
Hunt nodded. “OK, has anyone confirmed with Voyager that we have a visitor? Also, I want no electronic emissions, if possible. The only ship that’s going to run any electronics for the time being is us.”
Lieutenant Arnold, the Ops officer, chimed in, “Yes, Captain. As soon as we detected the new contact, we made sure the Voyager knew we had a visitor. They’ve gone dark. No more sensor activity or communications activity.”
Halsey had already sent the Gables, their transport ship, back to Earth three days ago while they waited to see what kind of Zodark ship showed up.
“Tactical, what’re the specs on the ship? Do we have any information on them yet?” Hunt asked next.