A Faded Star (13 page)

 “Getting those results now, Commodore,” Simmons said,
“It looks like the decryption Doctor Cobb suggested has unraveled a variety of
information from the radio signal including what looks like text instructions.
They, sir... They do not need translation. Putting them up now.”

 The main plot split to show a block of text which read
'proceed in small craft to primary docking bay located in center pod. Use the
following frequency to request entry. Further instructions will be provided
upon entry'.

 “Looks like we are going to take a short trip, people.
Doctors, would you be so kind as to join us in the boat bay in fifteen minutes?
Please bring along any research notes you think you might need. Mister Kri, you
have the ship. Miss Simmons, you are on the team along with Mister Patho. Get
Lieutenant Aves' marine platoon ready as well. Full combat load and drone
escort into the docking bay.

 Kri said, “Sir... are you sure you want to fly over to
that thing on no more than a paragraph of text? We know nothing about it. What
if something happens to you, sir?”

 “Risk is part of the profession, Mister Kri. Don't
break my ship while I'm gone.” Stokes motioned to the two doctors. “Let's get
to it, people.” He herded everyone off of the bridge while relief watch
standers came to take the places of people assigned to the boarding crew.

 Kri walked over to the command chair and plunked down
into it. “Get me some more coffee, please. I think we may be here for a while
longer.”

 The boat bay was positively bustling with activity.
Ten Marines in full combat kit, the two doctors, who were quickly suited into
protective but unpowered combat armor, and three naval officers all in their
version of combat kit as well were crowded around the pinnace. Rampart carried
three pinnaces, each designed to carry twelve passengers plus a two-person
flight crew.

 Stokes addressed the gathered people. “It's going to
be a tight fit, so I want everyone to get strapped in. Mister Aves, you have
the aft section. I'll squeeze myself into the back of the cockpit with Simmons
and Patho.”

 Aves stood at attention and said, “Aye, sir. He turned
and began hustling the Marines aboard along with the two scientists. As they
boarded, Stokes, Simmons, and Patho walked to the forward hatch that went
directly into the cockpit.

 Once he was sure everyone else had boarded, Stokes
said, “Cobb is not a scientist. I'm not sure who he is, but I noticed a few
things about him that made me think he's something else entirely.”

 “Like the way he always stands with his feet in the position
of a basic hand to hand combat stance?” Patho said.

 Simmons nodded. “And the way he figured out that
encryption after looking at it for less than five minutes. If he was some kind
of mathematician, I guess I could see it, but he's supposed to be a kind of
archaeologist, sir.”

 Stokes said, “Excellent observations, both of you. It
looks like we'll have to keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't try
anything fancy.”

 “Whatever that means,” Simmons said.

 Stokes said, “Go ahead, Mister Patho. I need a quick
word with Miss Simmons alone.”

 “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 ten 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.