Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1) (12 page)

BOOK: Flagship (A Captain's Crucible #1)
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"After the
Fortitude
successfully passes through the Gate, the
Hurricane
will return to sweep up any remaining SK activity."

On the display, the
Hurricane
and its escorts swung back toward the pockets of enemy activity. The remaining red dots disappeared from the flagship's path—the enemy was no match for the supposedly unstoppable supercarrier.

"Any questions?" the admiral said. He met Jonathan's eye, as if the inquiry were directed at him.

Jonathan waited a few moments. He wanted to let others speak first, but since no one said anything, he decided he would have to take the floor.

"This is a great simulation," Jonathan said softly.

All eyes turned toward him. He resisted the urge to have the software in his aReal replace their faces with the visages of featureless robots, a tactic that had helped him overcome his fear of public speaking in his youth, not to mention enabling him to go on dates with certain incredibly hot, and not so hot, women.

"But there's just one problem with it," Jonathan continued.

The admiral smiled in an obliging manner. "And what's that, Captain Dallas?"

"The fact that it's a simulation," Jonathan answered. "There are too many assumptions. For one, that only a few enemy vessels will break through the defenders. What if most of the enemy decides to skirt the waiting Task Unit Two? The enemy fleet will have momentum on its side—they could easily fly past, and because Task Unit Two is at a complete stop, none of our ships will be able to catch them in time. And even if the enemy does decide to engage, in full or partially, you're basically giving them our ships to destroy piecemeal, a few units at a time. We should be bringing the entire firepower of the fleet to bear upon them."

"Ever the tactician, huh, Jonathan?" The admiral grinned. "But such a stratagem risks the only geronium bomb the United Systems has, and therefore the only chance of successfully completing Operation Darkstar. I'm unwilling to take the risk. Notwithstanding the fact that if the bomb detonates, we'll lose all ships within a three thousand kilometer radius. Which makes separating the fleet an even higher priority. You can file a formal objection if you wish, but my planned deployment will not change."

Jonathan glanced about the table for support but didn't get any. None of the captains Robert had been talking to even met his eyes. Not an encouraging sign.

"Has anyone ever considered that the pursuing ships are not Sino-Korean?" Jonathan said.

"Of course they're bloody SKs," the grizzled Captain Salk said, another of those firmly in the admiral's pocket. "I don't believe in coincidences. That the attack against Task Unit Two just so happened to coincide with the receipt of the Darkstar order from NAVCENT? And the coup of Aurora Prime? Preposterous."

"Stranger coincidences have happened before," Jonathan said.

"So you're saying the attackers are alien?" Salk retorted. "Because that's the only other viable option, if they're not SKs. And we haven't encountered an alien species in over seventy years."

"We're long overdue for another contact," Jonathan said.

"As I said, preposterous," Salk snorted. "What proof do we have?"

He was hoping someone else would jump in, but the men who were supposedly in Jonathan's camp continued to remain quiet. It made him want to sit back and keep his own mouth shut.

But he was committed to his current course of action.

He had to try.

"The ship designs are the first proof," Jonathan said. "The particle weapons, the second."

"Neither are proof of alien technology," Salk returned.

"Sure they are," Jonathan said. "Take the particle beam. That tech is still in the early prototype phases in both the United Systems and Sino-Korean governments. There have been some test rigs built on different moons but the technology is still in its infancy, not considered viable enough, let alone stable enough, to operate on a starship.

"As for the enemy ships themselves, I'm sure you've heard this discussed among the ranks, but why have none of our moles sent us these designs? That the Sino-Koreans could hide something like that from us for so long seems implausible at best."

"Even if you're right, the timing still doesn't make sense," Salk said. "Like I said, I don't believe in coincidences."

"Neither do I," another of the admiral's backers, Captain Rail of the
Salvador
, said. A grumpy frown seemed permanently stamped onto her lips, marring her otherwise attractive features. "This whole attack is obviously part of some SK plan to stop Operation Darkstar. It seems apparent to me that a mole revealed our intentions weeks ago, and the SKs dispatched these vessels to intercept us. The enemy hid in the system, waiting for some confirmation from NAVCENT that we intended to execute the operation, and then they attacked. The timing is obvious."

"You're wrong about the timing," Jonathan said. "The
Selene
went missing seven hours before NAVCENT ever sent that communication. At some point after she crossed behind the moon and outside of sensor range, the
Selene
was boarded, her crew potentially kidnapped, and her escort the
Aegis
destroyed. That was the first attack. The second came only when we, too, crossed beyond the dark side of the moon and arrived at the perfect spot for an ambush. The incoming message from Central Command was inconsequential—the second attack would have taken place regardless."

Rail smiled coldly. "The fog of war is the crux of the matter, isn't it? We have no proof either way regarding the identities of those who operate these vessels. Alien. Or human. We can't know, not at this point. Which is why we must continue the mission as planned and assume the more logical of the two possible explanations: that our pursuers are human and motivated by human drives."

"But if they are human," Jonathan said. "Then how do you explain the arrival of the eight vessels via the 2-Vega Slipstream? That the ships came without bothering to create a return Gate would imply the ability to traverse wormholes without Gates. Something that is currently beyond human technology."

Rail sniffed. "I'd chalk it up to urgency. It wouldn't be unheard of for an assault group to travel through a Slipstream without a means of return. Perhaps a Builder-type vessel will arrive at a later date. And the two ships you originally encountered were simply advance scouts."

"The Sino-Koreans don't send advance scouts without ensuring the infrastructure exists for their return," Jonathan said flatly.

Rail grinned patiently, as if what she were about to say were the most obvious thing in the world. "They are SK. They must obey the orders of their paramount leader, whom they consider above the rest of humanity. If he commanded the ships to come here without a Gate, then they would do so. No questions asked."

"But if you're wrong," Jonathan said. "And they
are
an alien race, we're going to need the help of the Sino-Koreans in the days to come. And you are wrong. Mark my words. We should be deciding how we can use that bomb against the alien attackers, not against our
own kind
. Do you really want to have to fight a devastating war against two fronts?" He ran his gaze across the admiral's group. He ignored their stony stares and barreled on. "Have any of you ever considered what would happen if we don't make it out of this system alive to warn the United Systems? Do you really want our frontier worlds to fall in a surprise attack? We could lose five systems before the United Systems musters a response."

Admiral Knox raised a hand. "That will be enough, Captain Dallas. I'll be forced to censure you if you continue down this path. We're here to discuss the tactics involved in completing the mission, not the merits of said mission, nor the nature of our pursuers. And we all fully understand the consequences of failure, believe me. Whether these ships prove alien or human, Operation Darkstar is a go."

Jonathan refused to back down. He was committed, now. "At least three new comm nodes were detected entering the system from Prius 3. The vessel guarding 1-Vega destroyed each one. NAVCENT doesn't dispatch comm nodes without a return Gate, not unless it needs to transmit something urgent. The odds are relatively high that Central Command was trying to send a retraction order to Operation Darkstar."

"Conjecture," Rails said, as if she were some trial lawyer in a court of law.

"And even if it wasn't a retraction," Jonathan continued. "NAVCENT definitely wouldn't approve of the preemptive attack if they knew the details of our current situation. Which is why we should call off the operation until we can reestablish communications with NAVCENT."

"Captain Dallas, I am relieving you of command," the admiral said. "I judge you unfit for duty. I suggest you disconnect from the conference immediately, unless you wish to incriminate yourself further."

fifteen

 

Jonathan gazed defiantly at the admiral. "I'm the one relieving
you
of command. I hereby call for a vote of no confidence." He ran his gaze across the faces of the captains, some of whom visibly cringed at his words. Ignoring the rising sense of dread in his stomach, Jonathan forced himself to go on. "It seems obvious to me that the admiral is incapable of adequately performing his duty. His relentless, singular pursuit of an out-of-date, and possibly retracted order, will lead this fleet, and perhaps humanity itself, to ruin.

"He wants to complete a mission that will trigger the death of a star, causing a supernova that will kill a hundred million people in Tau Ceti system. We can't stand by idly while this butchery takes place. Not when there might be an alien threat out there that requires all of humankind to unite." He ran his defiant gaze across the faces of his so-called supporters, who still wouldn't meet his eyes. Meanwhile some of those in the admiral's camp actually sneered. "I call for Admiral Knox to step aside, with Captain Avis taking his place as commodore of the task group. All in favor, say yea."

Silence.

Jonathan stared at the holographic images of Felix and Rodriguez, colleagues he had long considered friends. He willed those two at least to speak up. But the captains kept their respective gazes glued to the virtual desk.

The admiral smiled mockingly. "Thank you, Jonathan, for further incriminating yourself. For a moment there, I thought you wouldn't have the balls to go through with your plan in its entirety. I was worried all my meticulous work would be all for naught. For you see, the captains and I have already had the real meeting. We started about two hours ago; we invited you to the party late, mostly so that we could decide your fate should your treasonous activities come to fruition. I think you've earned a round of applause, for being stupid enough to believe you could undermine me."

The admiral began to clap. He looked around the table, as if encouraging the others to join in, but no one did. The admiral shrugged. "Captain Rogers came to me a few days ago and revealed what your first officer had been doing." Jonathan glanced at Rogers. At least the man had the decency to flinch.

"When confronted, Captains Felix, Rodriguez and the others admitted that your first officer had come to them, too, spouting inanities about the value of human life, that these aggressors must be alien, and so forth. Sowing the seeds of discontent. I overrode your access control to the
Callaway's
AI, and gave it instructions to transmit every private conversation you had with your commander directly to me, especially those conversations you tried to disable logging for."

The admiral gestured and a miniature holographic video appeared in the center of the table. It portrayed Jonathan in his office. Robert was seated before him.

"We have three days to take that scheming bastard of an admiral down," Jonathan's image said.

"You know," Robert responded. "If I didn't know better, I'd almost believe you were following some sort of personal vendetta against the man."

The admiral ended the video overlay.

"Do you have anything to say in your defense, Captain Dallas?" the admiral asked.

Jonathan slumped. "No."
Betrayed by an AI
.

"As I thought," the admiral continued. "Captain Jonathan H. Dallas. In addition to relieving you of command, I am also confining you to the brig for insubordination, treason, and attempted mutiny. When we return to dry dock, I will hand you over to the port authority and begin the court martial process. Your first officer, for attempting to stir sedition, will join you in the brig, so you won't lack for company."

Jonathan straightened at that. He had promised himself he would protect Robert at all costs. "My first officer was only obeying my orders. He wanted to proceed with Darkstar. He wanted to follow you. When I told him to speak with the captains on my behalf, he did so only grudgingly. If an objective party reviews his communication logs with the captains, it will be obvious no talk of actual sedition took place."

"It's true," Captain Rodriguez said, speaking up for the first time. "Our conversations were strictly limited to intellectual debate between colleagues. Commander Cray never asked me to do anything."

"Me neither," Captain Felix interjected. "He never said a word about mutiny. Dallas is right, any charges against Cray won't stick."

"Please, Admiral," Jonathan continued. "I go willingly to the brig, but I ask that you show leniency to my first officer. He has experience fighting the new enemy. His place is on the bridge. You need him."

The admiral hesitated. Then: "For the friendship we once had, Jonathan, I will do this. He will retain the rank of commander—for now. When we return to dry dock, there will be a full inquiry into his participation in the attempted mutiny, along with the role of other key officers in your crew."

"Thank you," Jonathan said.

The admiral turned to Captain Avis. "Effective immediately, Commander Scott of the
Hurricane
is promoted to captain of the
Callaway
, with Commander Cray as his executive officer. Captain Avis, you will find a suitable replacement for Scott."

"Yes sir," Avis said.

Admiral Knox momentarily glanced downward before returning his attention to Jonathan. "I'm preparing your arrest order. I urge you to take the high road, Jonathan. Don't cause me any unnecessary trouble."

Jonathan forced a smile. "I will go gentle into that good night."

He tapped out.

Jonathan sat back. So it was done. He had tried to sway the task group and failed miserably. He was good at leading men, at least he believed so, but the whole political aspect—manipulating others, engaging in intrigues, canvassing and campaigning—none of that had ever been his strong suite. A better man would have won that day. Someone with more charisma and force of will.

Jonathan simply wasn't the man he believed he was.

That's right, wallow in self-pity.

He went to the safe. He wasn't sure he still had access, but he successfully passed the biometrics—thumb print, facial scan, voice print, epidermal venous network match. He cracked open the hidden Scotch and poured himself a glass.

"Well you've achieved your goals, Maxwell," Jonathan said. "You've stopped the mutiny. And doomed humankind in the process. I hope you're happy."

"I'm incapable of feeling emotion," the AI said. "Though I believe the best possible outcome has transpired."

"You would believe that, wouldn't you?"

"I am truly sorry," Maxwell said.

Jonathan crooked a half smile. "Sorrow, that's an emotion, isn't it?"

"Yes. But I am programmed merely to say the words. I am able to exhibit all of the necessary voice inflections and tonalities necessary to simulate emotion, but as I said, I don't actually
feel
them."

"So you're merely going through the motions," Jonathan muttered. "Sort of like me right now."

The ship's AI didn't answer.

Jonathan sent a message to the commander: "Robert, please come to my office."

Robert was already on the bridge and it only took him a few seconds to arrive. When he stepped inside, he opened his mouth to speak, but when he saw Jonathan's face, he pressed his lips together into a grim line.

Jonathan served him a glass. "Have a seat, Commander."

Robert complied, accepting the illegal beverage.

"So." Jonathan took a sip. It was excellent Scotch. "It turns out all the private conversations you and I have had were not in fact private. The admiral had overridden my access control to the AI. Maxwell sent him everything."

"I see," Robert said.

Jonathan grinned wistfully. "In a few moments, Robert, you are going to receive a message from Admiral Knox. If you haven't already."

"I haven't," Robert said.

"In the message," Jonathan continued. "You will see an order for my removal from command and subsequent arrest."

Robert simply stared at Jonathan, saying nothing.

"I expect you to follow this order to the letter," Jonathan finished.

Robert remained quiet for several moments, apparently processing what Jonathan said. Finally: "What about me?"

"I told the admiral you were simply following orders. Which is true. If he arrested you, he'd have to arrest the whole crew. Or at least the department heads. You are to retain your rank and pay grade, but—" Jonathan shook his head. "Unfortunately, the admiral promised there would be a full inquiry regarding your behavior, and other key officers in my crew, when we return to dry dock."

Robert didn't look happy when he heard that. An inquiry likely meant he would lose his position on the
Rampage
. Even if the board found he had done nothing wrong, the very presence of the inquiry on his record would raise eyebrows, and he would find future advancement difficult if not impossible.

"I'm sorry, Robert," Jonathan offered.

An icon indicating a call from the chief master-at-arms, Gary Trevor, appeared on his aReal.

"A moment, Commander." Jonathan accepted the call. He chose the voice-only option.

"Captain," the chief MA sent. "I've just received an order for your arrest. Is this some kind of joke?"

"Unfortunately it's very real, Chief. Check the verification codes."

There was a pause. "They check out," the chief sent. "What do you want me to do?"

"Your duty, of course."

"I can't send men to arrest you."

Jonathan had to smile. The loyalty of his crew was touching. "Then send robots."

Another pause. "Aye sir."

Jonathan terminated the call.

The commander's eyes were distant. "I just received the order from Admiral Knox." He frowned. "What's this? Captain Scott is going to remotely captain the
Callaway
from the
Hurricane
?"

"I was never a big fan of remote captaincy myself," Jonathan said. "Especially when the role involves leading a task unit. Though it might prove beneficial to you—the admiral plans to separate the task units. Once the lag from the
Hurricane
becomes too great, you'll become the de facto captain."

"Wait." Robert's eyes were still defocused. "It also says Scott will arrive in a shuttle once Task Unit Two slows down to delay the enemy."

"Too bad, then," Jonathan said.

Robert shook his head adamantly. He definitely didn't like these orders. He opened his mouth to speak but Jonathan raised an arresting hand before the commander could say something he would regret.

"Remember, the AI," Jonathan told him pointedly.

"But my conscience won't allow me—"

"Your conscience will be clear." Jonathan said. "You're not the one deploying the star killer."

"But I'm protecting it. Indirectly—"

Again Jonathan interrupted him. "No, Robert. You're not responsible, neither directly nor indirectly. The admiral assumes full responsibility for what goes on here. He and his lackeys. Your conscience can rest easy: you're fighting to save the lives of those the admiral foolishly ordered behind. These brave men and women who will be standing against an enemy whose full capabilities remain unknown so far. I'd much rather have you out there acting as first officer than another clueless toady from the
Hurricane
. When this Captain Scott arrives, advise him, and advise him well. I have a feeling he'll be fairly useless."

"You know him?"

"Not at all. Nor do I want to." Jonathan resisted the urge to pull up the associated personnel file. His access had probably been revoked by then anyway.

Robert took a deep drink of the illegal Scotch. "A hundred million lives."

"Don't give up hope," Jonathan said. "Maybe I can find a way to stop the admiral yet."

"Stop the admiral from the brig?" Robert smiled sadly. "The only thing you'll be able to do from there is vegetate in VR."

"I have a few tricks up my sleeve yet," Jonathan said. Though unfortunately he knew Robert was entirely right. He didn't want the man to lose hope, however. The commander would perform better in the upcoming battle if his morale wasn't too low.

"Honestly, I'm actually looking forward to my time in brig," Jonathan mused. "A welcome break from responsibility and accountability. I always planned to retire into VR, you know. There are a few experiences I've been meaning to try for years but have never gotten around to."

"Unless the admiral takes away your aReal," Robert said.

"He wouldn't dare. It's a basic prisoner right."

The hatch to the office opened. It surprised Jonathan—he was used to hearing the entry whistle first and then manually granting access as he saw fit. He would simply have to get used to no longer being in control.

Two MA robots stood in the entrance: box-shaped heads connected to high-grade polycarbonate torsos; blocky arms and legs with circular connecting joints; the subtle whir of servomotors accompanying every movement.

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