TFS Navajo: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 3 (20 page)

Continuing to scan the side of the massive cruiser, Jacks noted several heavy beam emitter apertures close by, most likely of the same type the
Hadeon
had used to take down forty-eight anti-ship missiles in just a few seconds during their battle with the
Baldev
. At such short range, the huge energy weapons looked as though they were aimed directly at his small, absurdly exposed force. Jacks wondered briefly whether his mind would even have the chance to register what was happening if one of them discharged.
Probably not, so probably not worth worrying about
he thought darkly, then pushed the notion out of his mind and pressed on with the business at hand.

“SLR online,” the railgun team lead announced. Unlike many of the other basic status updates that passed between members of the squad, this particular one was always done verbally, largely because the readiness of the unit’s heavy weapon tended to immediately precede the order to execute the next phase of the mission. A powerful weapon with a long, distinguished lineage, the R229 could trace its origin all the way back to famous designs from the likes of Richard Gatling, Sir Hiram Maxim, and John Browning. Unlike those weapons, however, the SLR used a miniaturized version of the electromagnetic launchers used aboard Fleet’s warships, providing a level of firepower that would have been inconceivable during the long reign of gunpowder-based propellants. Too small to include a gravitic generator capable of counteracting the inertia of its kinetic energy rounds during launch, the weapon still produced a recoil significant enough to require it to be secured in place. In this case, mounting it atop the
Sherpa
meant that the shuttle itself would be required to use its Cannae thrusters to precisely maintain its position in space once the SLR opened fire. The relatively compact weapon was served by a crew of two: the team lead — generally a corporal who managed the accompanying power and ammunition supplies, and a gunner — normally a private first class who was responsible for the weapon itself. During combat ops, the team lead took on a number of additional roles including acting as a spotter, equipment manager, and communications specialist, all while working to ensure the weapon’s perimeter and rear security.

With a final quick check of his squad’s position, Lieutenant Jacks designated two Marines to accompany him on the short trip to the first access point before arcing up and over the top of his shuttle in the direction of the
Keturah
.

Chapter 14

TFS Theseus, Location Dagger

(3.3 light years from Earth)

“Report,” Captain Prescott said as he and Commander Reynolds emerged from his ready room.

“Sir, the hangar deck reports that they will have the last F-373 secured within the next one four minutes,” Lieutenant Commander Schmidt reported, vacating his captain’s command chair and relieving the standby crew lieutenant who had been sitting in for him at the Tactical 1 console. “We also have a crew of five from Engineering performing an EVA at the moment, including Commander Logan himself. He said to tell you that he would have everyone back onboard by the time the Flight Deck completes their recovery operation.”

“Commander Logan is outside … right
now
?” Prescott asked, suppressing the urge to sound irritated. Although his chief engineer could sometimes act in a manner that bordered on impulsiveness, Prescott had never known him to exercise poor judgment or take a risk without a good reason for doing so.

“Yes, sir. He said to tell you that they needed to take care of an urgent problem with one of the heat exchangers that was damaged during the battle with the
Baldev
and that the repair should only take a few minutes. He also said that he was taking a couple of extra people with him in hopes of replacing some shield emitters while they were out there.”

“And he didn’t want to interrupt the XO and me during our secure vidcon, right,” Prescott smiled.

“Yes, he said that too, sir.”

“Alright, fine. Lieutenant Dubashi, will you please keep tabs on Commander Logan’s team and hurry them along as best you can?”

“Aye, sir, will do.”

“Thank you. Okay, Schmidt, please continue. What’s the status of our Marine rescue mission?”

“They were forced to take the two
Sherpas
because of the situation in the hangar bay, but everything seems to be going fine so far. They appear to be getting pretty close to trying the first access point. Otherwise, no changes in the past couple of hours. All systems in the green. The ship remains at General Quarters, but we have set Condition 2 due to the various EVA ops currently underway. The individual departments are in the process of rotating in fresh crewmembers to relieve those who have been on duty the longest. Both the C-Drive as well as our sublight engines are temporarily offline while Commander Logan’s team completes their repairs.”

“Very good, thank you. We should probably work on getting ourselves fed and rested as well,” Prescott said, raising his voice to address the entire bridge crew, “but I would prefer to wait until all of these pending operations are wrapped up first. For now, I’d like us to — one at a time — call in a replacement from the standby crew, stretch our legs, grab something to eat for a few minutes, and then head back up here. I’ll do my best to get us all some rack time as soon as possible. Can everyone hang in there a little longer?”

In spite of enduring several days of heavy stress, including extended combat operations with very little time for rest from one crisis to the next,
Theseus’
first watch bridge crew replied with the usual chorus of “yes, sirs” in response to their captain’s largely rhetorical question.

Commander Reynolds had yet to take her seat at the rear of the bridge, and had been looking over Lieutenant Lau’s shoulder at the Tactical console during the status update. Now, she placed a hand on Lau’s shoulder and silently gestured for him to be the first to take a break. Within seconds, his replacement emerged from the portside standby lounge and took his place at Tactical 2.

“Lieutenant Lee, without the Marines’ assault shuttles I know we have a somewhat diminished view of the rescue mission, but please see if you can call up some additional video feeds for the view screen,” Prescott said. “Give us their tactical comm audio as well if you would.”

“Aye, sir. We’re mostly limited to the feeds from their individual EVA suits, but we do have a pretty good view of the first external access point from the nearest
Sherpa,
” Lee replied, opening two windows in the center of the bridge view screen. “The window on the right is the feed from Jackson’s … sorry, First Lieutenant Jacks’ suit. The audio is live as well, but these guys tend to say very little during an op. There actually is a display I can show you that will give us a representation of what they’re communicating to each other with their neural interfaces, but unless you’re familiar with the symbology they use —”

“Yeah, I’ve seen it and you’re right. It’s like watching a group of twelve-year-olds playing a video game. They know exactly what they’re doing, but it’s largely incomprehensible to anyone else.”

As they watched, Lieutenant Jacks and two other Marines approached what looked like a fairly standard external hatch measuring approximately three and a half meters on each side. Although there was a keypad of some sort visible to their right, Jacks halted their approach just short of the door, raising his right hand in a fist out of sheer force of habit.

On Fleet vessels, cargo doors of this type were spaced fairly evenly around the hull to facilitate the loading of cargo and provide points of access for equipment and personnel when the ship was moored. The doors always included an airlock of some sort and could be opened from the outside during an emergency.

Reading quickly through a transcript of the briefing Lieutenant Jacks had delivered to his squad before their EVA, Prescott made a mental note to discuss external access procedures with Commander Reynolds and eventually Admiral Patterson. Clearly, Wek warship designers considered access from the outside by hostile forces a serious enough threat to build in some fairly sophisticated security measures. In a situation where TFC ships were either unable to move due to battle damage or because they were conducting some sort of operation that prevented them from moving — very much like
Theseus
was at the moment — an enemy boarding action might become a very real possibility.

As Prescott continued to watch the Marines conducting their relief operation, he couldn’t help but picture a similar group of heavily armed Wek troops easily gaining access to critical, yet largely undefended areas of his ship. Such troublesome thoughts, coupled with fatigue, left him feeling uncharacteristically impatient to conclude all three of the missions taking place outside and get
Theseus
back into a state where she could fight or flee, if necessary. After what seemed like a long delay, Prescott was more than happy when a call from Lieutenant Jacks refocused his mind on the Marines’ rescue mission.

“Bridge, Rescue 11,” Lieutenant Jacks called over the tactical comm channel.

“I got it,” Prescott responded immediately, preempting Lieutenant Dubashi’s response. “Rescue 11,
Theseus
-Actual. Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“Sir, we’re using the codes provided by Commander Takkar, so as far as the
Keturah’s
AI is concerned, we’re friendlies and have the same access from out here as their troops would.”

“Understood. Are you having a problem getting their system to respond?”

“Negative, it’s not that, sir. It’s just that … according to their AI, there are only seven survivors aboard.”

Prescott paused for a moment, the terrifying image of a nuclear weapon detonating near the center of her hull quickly forming in his mind.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Rescue 11. Do you have a route that will allow you to reach them quickly?”

“Affirmative, Captain. They’re in two separate groups, not far from the second and third external access points. With your permission, we’ll plan to go ahead and recover them all, if possible. With such a small group, we can split into two sections and access both areas simultaneously.”

“Be quick about it, Lieutenant. We have two other EVA ops concluding here within one zero minutes. As soon as that happens, we’ll try to get a little closer. Either way, I want you headed back to the ship within half an hour max. Understood?”

“We’ll make it happen, sir. Rescue 11 out.”

Marine Section “Rescue 11,” Location Dagger

(Near SCS
Keturah
External Access Point Two)

When he had told Captain Prescott that the Wek survivors were located “not far” from the external access points, he might have been just a little optimistic, Lieutenant Jacks admitted to himself. That was particularly true for the members of the
Keturah’s
crew currently represented in his field of view by four red pulsating ovals accompanied by a single text block indicating that they were still over forty-five meters from his current position. In the lower right corner of his helmet display, a timer relentlessly counted down from the original thirty minutes Captain Prescott had given him to recover the enemy warship’s survivors and have his squad on its way back to the
Theseus
.

“You do see how much time we have remaining, right?” his EVA suit’s AI asked aloud. It was both an odd and irritating question, given that the AI knew precisely where he was looking at all times.

I see it. Surely you have something more useful to contribute to this effort,
Jacks thought, communicating his response via the suit’s neural interface without the need to even fully form the words in his mind.
If that’s the best you’ve got, do us both a favor and bugger off
.

“Oh, nice talk, mate. Kiss our mum with that mouth, do you?” the suit asked indignantly using a perfect facsimile of his own voice.

Jacks rarely verbalized his conversations with his suit’s AI, and chose not to allow it to synthesize the voice of some famous actor, athlete, or military leader. Since first beginning the complex training required to interact with TFC’s military-grade version of the standard neural interface, his preference had always been to use the suit’s default internal communications setting — typically referred to by the manufacturer as “conscience mode.”

“I’m just trying to keep us out of trouble, that’s all,” the AI continued. “We’ve already been in here for nearly twenty minutes. That leaves us only ten to reach our group of survivors, provide whatever first aid is required, then get them back to the access point and prepped for the trip over to the shuttle. At the moment, it seems unlikely that we’ll be able to meet such an aggressive timetable.”

When first introduced to their EVA suit’s many capabilities, Marines were shown an orientation video provided by the multinational defense contractor that handled most of the AI’s Pelaran tech integration. In what seemed like a ridiculous insult to their intelligence, “conscience mode” was depicted by an eight-centimeter, miniaturized version of the Marine wearing the suit. During various combat operations, the mini-Marine doppelgänger stood steadfastly on the EVA suit’s shoulder and provided the user with sage advice (its traditional angel’s wings were omitted to avoid any appearance of religious affiliation, of course). Jacks had always found the comparison to a “shoulder angel” particularly fitting, since Marines tended to ignore their suit’s advice nearly as much as Humans in general ignored the urgings of their own conscience. In reality, however, the data overwhelmingly showed that an ever-present AI not only improved the user’s ability to cope with stressful situations, but also increased the likelihood that they would make better choices when faced with morally ambiguous situations.

It’s important that we save these people if we can … and you know very well that Mum swears much more often than I do. Besides, swearing in my head doesn’t count anyway, does it?
Jacks thought distractedly as he continued his slow progress down the rubble-strewn corridor leading to his objective.

“It
is
important, Jackson, but so is following orders,” the AI replied earnestly. “Captain Prescott is concerned about what might happen when the
Zhelov
and the
Serapion
arrive. That could happen at any moment. If we’re still out here, we’ve compromised our own safety and quite possibly that of the
Theseus
as well. If we don’t have time right now, we can come back and complete our rescue mission after those two battleships leave the area.”

I understand all of that, but it might be too late for the survivors if we wait. Now do your job and help me complete this mission successfully. The corridor up ahead is a mess. We can probably get through it just fine, but I’m not sure about coming back through here with wounded. Is there an alternate route?

“Yes, there is,” the AI sighed. “Stand by while I check the environmental systems in the adjoining spaces.”

You do that
, Jacks thought, gratified that he had once again managed to temporarily distract the AI. “Rescue 12, Jacks,” he called over the tactical comm.

“Rescue 12 here. Go ahead, Lieutenant.”

“It looks like your section is back at access point three already, Sergeant. What’s your status?”

“We got ‘em, sir. Most of the area surrounding this access point is unpressurized, but we managed to close off a section of corridor adjacent to where our three Wek personnel were located and then repressurize it before entering their room. The room itself looked like it was used for food storage. It was right next to their galley.”