TFS Theseus: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 2 (25 page)

“I suspect not, Captain. What do you suggest?”

“How quickly can you transition back to hyperspace?”

“We have been driving our engines beyond their maximum rated power for several days. As a result, our chief engineer was forced to take the hyperdrive offline temporarily to correct a problem with one of our reactors. While potentially serious, the fix should not be difficult or time-consuming. We expect to be able to transition again within three to five minutes.”

“If our luck holds, that should be quickly enough. Our communications officer is sending you a set of coordinates we are referring to as ‘Location Willow.’” Prescott said, nodding to Lieutenant Dubashi. “We believe it to be near the location of the original Resistance task force rally point. As soon as you are able, proceed there at your best speed. Before arrival, adjust your hyperdrive to allow your ship to remain in hyperspace. Do
not
transition to normal space until you hear from one of our ships, or you may be attacked by Resistance forces. We believe the bulk of them have now left the area, but we also believe they may have left some of their ships behind to wait for additional reinforcements.”

“Understood, Captain. We have the location. We will arrive in just over twenty-six hours.”

“Very good. We should be there well before you and hope to have the area secured prior to your arrival.”

“Would you be so kind as to allow me to speak with Admiral Naftur before we depart?” Jelani asked.

Prescott had sincerely hoped that this particular complication would not have time to come up before the
Gresav’s
departure. There simply wasn’t time to explain the situation adequately, and he knew that a misunderstanding here could quickly unravel the fragile trust they had just begun building over the past month. He breathed deeply, allowing his face to take on a very sincere look of concern. “No, Musa. I am afraid that’s not possible at the moment. I am very sorry to have to inform you that Admiral Naftur was seriously injured earlier today and is currently in surgery. I regret that we do not have time for me to adequately explain what happened, but I can tell you that his injury was sustained when he pushed our Commander in Chief, Admiral Sexton, out of the path of an incoming pulse rifle round, saving his life in the process.”

Captain Jelani stared intently at Prescott for a long moment, then, seeming to find what he was looking for, glanced down and closed his eyes momentarily as if offering a prayer. “I am gravely concerned to hear this news, Captain,” he began again, “but I have no doubt that Rugali Naftur was doing exactly what he believed was required of him at the time. Is Nenir Turlaka assisting with his care?”

“Yes she is. She is assisting our own Doctor Chen in the surgery as we speak. So far, they have indicated that his injury is serious, but not necessarily beyond their skills. We should hear from them again within a couple of hours. I am sorry that you will be unable to receive an update until your arrival at Location Willow, but rest assured we are doing everything within our power to save his life.”

“And I likewise assure you that I have no doubt that this is indeed the case. Otherwise, our conversation would have taken quite a different path,” Jelani smiled, a hint of bold defiance flashing in his eyes.

“Captain, the Guardian is transitioning to hyperspace!” Lieutenant Lau bellowed from Tactical 2 just as the image of the Pelaran ship on the right side of the view screen blurred slightly before disappearing in a faint flash of blue light.

“I’m afraid we’re out of time, Captain,” Prescott said as calmly as he could manage under the circumstances. “I will maneuver to keep my ship between you and the Guardian. Please stay behind us and make your transition to hyperspace as quickly as possible.”

“Understood. Thank you and good luck, Captain Prescott. Jelani out.”

“Alright, Lau, how much time do we …”

“Contact, close aboard to starboard!” Lau yelled.

“Helm, block its line of fire!”

Although Prescott had responded immediately, his order came well after Ensign Fisher — growing increasingly comfortable with his ability to work seamlessly with
Theseus’
AI — had rolled the ship into a left bank while simultaneously increasing power to come between the Guardian and the
Gresav
.

“Well done, Ensign. Keep that up until
Gresav
is away.”

“I’ll try, sir,” Fisher replied, trying to think several maneuvers ahead and realizing that the task would ultimately prove impossible.

At fifty meters in length, the Guardian was only marginally larger than an F-373 fighter and, although maneuverability had not been high on its Pelaran “makers’” list of priorities, it was still significantly more maneuverable than the two destroyers. What followed was like an oddly choreographed dance routine between two blue whales and a single tiger shark as the Guardian spacecraft attempted to place itself in a position that would allow a clear line of fire to the
Gresav
without hitting
Theseus
. Initially, at least, each of its movements was quickly countered by a combination of move and counter move by the Human and Wek destroyers.

“It’s playing with us, Captain,” Schmidt announced from Tactical 1 after the third such series of maneuvers. “It has had several clear shots at this point.” To underscore the point, Schmidt opened a window on the left end of the bridge view screen displaying an overhead tactical plot of the current encounter in a quick playback loop. Each time the Guardian’s weapons could have been brought to bear, the AI highlighted the path from the beam emitter to the point of impact on the
Gresav
in an angry, flashing red.

“Looks that way, doesn’t it,” Prescott answered absently, his attention focused on the
Gresav
, which he sincerely hoped would be on her way shortly. “As I said, I suspect this whole encounter is a test of some sort. In the process, the Guardian gets an opportunity to confirm its suspicions about our relationship with at least part of the Sajeth Collective, while also learning more about our ship’s capabilities.”

“Meanwhile, we are unwitting participants in its little test,” Reynolds added.

“Well, maybe not unwitting, but definitely unwilling,” Prescott laughed. “It’s not like we felt like we had much of a choice in the matter, and I’m certain the Guardian knows enough about how we think to have made that calculation.”

“By the way,” Reynolds asked, “do we even know if our shields can take a hit from that thing’s beam weapons?”

“I had Logan look into that, but the best he could get out of the Science and Engineering Directorate was a definite maybe. Most of them seem to think that they would hold out for at least a few hits, but beyond that it’s anyone’s guess. One thing they were able to tell us with absolute certainty is that our armor cannot.”

“Inspiring,” Reynolds replied cynically.

“The good news is that I think if it was going to fire, it would have already done so,” Prescott said, a wry grin on his face.

“Sir, the
Gresav
is transitioning to hyperspace,” Lau reported as the starfield surrounding the Wek destroyer blurred momentarily before she disappeared entirely in a flash of gray light.

“Glad to hear it. Tactical, power down the weapon systems for now. XO, we will remain at General Quarters — most likely for some time — please let our people know we will be maintaining a state of readiness so that they can plan their rotations accordingly. Helm, give us a gentle turn in the direction of the
Navajo
. Comm/Nav, plot a C-Jump back to the general area near the flagship, just in case, then request a vidcon with Admiral Patterson.”

“Aye, sir,” all four officers replied.

Just off
Theseus’
port side, the Guardian spacecraft joined up in formation, almost as if the entire encounter had been nothing more than a routine training exercise between allied forces.

“Sir, the Guardian is hailing us,” Dubashi announced.

Prescott hesitated, thinking that under the circumstances, any communications should be handled by Admiral Patterson. Looking to his XO for her opinion, however, he received only a shrug and a facial expression that clearly conveyed a simple question, “Why not?”

“Alright, this ought to be interesting at least,” he replied, shaking his head. “On-screen, please.”

“Aye, sir, opening channel.”

Seconds later, the Guardian’s now familiar Human avatar appeared on the view screen, this time seated at a virtual Command console. Although “Griffin” had swapped his typical sport coat and slacks for what looked suspiciously like a TFC flight suit, his smiling visage was otherwise unchanged from his regular appearances on Earth’s mass media. “Ah, the heroic Captain Prescott, I presume,” he began. “I’m honored to finally get the opportunity to speak with you in person.”

“Thank you,” Prescott replied flatly, unfazed by the Guardian’s typically disarming tone. “I don’t mean to be rude, but unless you require our assistance, I believe it would be more appropriate for you to speak with Admiral Patterson or members of the Leadership Council.”

“Oh no, I’m perfectly fine, thank you. I’m a little confused as to why you would refer me to the Leadership Council, however. Didn’t your vessel participate in removing the duly elected Chairwoman of that august organization from office earlier this morning?”

Prescott stared at the image on the screen, reminding himself that, while not Human or even biological, it represented an advanced and incredibly dangerous potential adversary. “We were indeed at our Headquarters facility earlier today, and were present when Chairwoman Crull was taken into custody for the attempted murder of Admiral Duke Sexton, TFC Commander in Chief.”

“This is the same Admiral Sexton who was, himself, being taken into custody at the time for dereliction of duty and providing aid and comfort to two enemy combatants, one of which, I believe, was seriously injured in the process.” Griffin paused to offer a maddeningly pleasant smile before continuing. “My, how fond you Humans are of leaving out certain key pieces of information when they do not support your version of events.” He paused again, seemingly to provide Prescott an opportunity to respond, but received only a blank stare. “No matter,” he continued airily, “I must confess, however, that I am curious as to why you would put your ship and crew in danger to protect an enemy Sajeth Collective vessel. This is, after all, the very same alliance that even now gathers forces in preparation for mounting an attack on your homeworld.”

“I am no politician,” Prescott finally responded after a long silence, “but it seems to me that you are painting with a very broad brush. It is true that we have had only minimal time to begin forming an opinion of the Sajeth Collective, one way or another, but our experience thus far has
not
shown their alliance to be openly hostile towards us on the whole. Would the Pelaran Alliance have us behave in a hostile fashion towards
all
civilizations we encounter for the first time?”

“Only if your species wishes to survive, Captain,” the Guardian replied in an uncharacteristically menacing tone. “You have a great deal to learn, and should be grateful that we have chosen to grant you the opportunity to do so in relative safety. Had we not, I assure you that your period of blissfully ignorant isolation would have already come to an abrupt and violent end.”

Unwilling to engage in further meaningless debate, Prescott said nothing, but simply inclined his head politely and waited for the Guardian to continue. When it finally did so, its bright, casual tone had returned.

“In any event,” it said dismissively, “I suppose there was no harm in allowing the Sajeth Collective vessel to depart the system. As for your Leadership Council, I am sure that Chairwoman Crull’s actions will be deemed wholly appropriate upon further investigation. It also looks as if Terra will be taking her rightful place as a member in the Pelaran Alliance very soon. Once that happens, I will be much more at liberty to share what we know of interstellar politics and the projection of naval power. In the interim, please do be careful to choose your friends wisely.” The Guardian narrowed his eyes as the corners of his mouth turned upwards in perhaps his most pompous facial expression to date. “Griffin out.”

There was a brief period of silence during which Ensign Fisher could be heard letting out a long sigh as he released some of the tension from the encounter with the Guardian. “Jeez, what an ass,” he muttered to himself.

“Mm-hmm,” Lieutenant Lau agreed in a low voice that only Fisher could hear.

Chapter 19

TFS Navajo

(CIC conference room 2)

“I’ll say one thing for you, Prescott,” Admiral Patterson said, leaning back in his usual CIC conference room chair, “when you’re in the area, things rarely turn dull. I don’t think I’ve ever encountered a man who stumbles into more situations where he’s forced into making far-reaching, life or death decisions without anyone else’s input.”

“Oh, I get input, Admiral. Just this morning I sought out the counsel of my wise and experienced XO and got a solid ‘Why not?’ in response. With advice like that backing me up, how could I go wrong?” Prescott smiled, winking at Reynolds as he did so.

“You’re lucky to have her, and I’d say that sometimes that
is
the best possible advice,” the older man chuckled. “Honestly, though, I don’t have much to say about the incident with the
Gresav
. There really wasn’t any way we could prepare for her arrival, given all the things that have changed since you left her a week ago. You just happened to, once again, be in the right place at the right time, and you did exactly what I would have asked you to do if I had been given enough time to do so. I don’t know that I would have sent them to Location Willow, but I don’t know that I wouldn’t have either. It was their data that helped us find the Resistance rally point in the first place, and whatever we’re about to do will probably be over by the time they get there anyway. Are you ready to depart?”

“I believe so, sir. We’re hoping to hear an update on Admiral Naftur’s condition from our medical bay shortly, but even under the best of circumstances, I don’t think he will be in any condition to assist us during our parley with the Resistance.”

“That definitely complicates things, but it doesn’t change the essence of what you’re going out there to do. When Ambassador Turlaka is available, perhaps she can stand in for the admiral. Based on what I’ve seen so far, I’m convinced that the Resistance task force was thrown off their game a bit by the arrival of our
Hunter
recon flight. The fighter that deployed our comm beacons detected two additional outbound hyperdrive signatures not long after the original twenty-four, so I’m sticking with my theory that we’re seeing late arrivals trickle in and then get forwarded on to a different location.”

Patterson paused, looking as if the discussion had led to him to some new conclusion that he had just noted for later. “In any event,” he continued, “your two flights of
Reapers
departed half an hour ago and are standing by for your orders at Location Willow. Don’t hesitate to call them in if things start to turn sour. I don’t have to tell you that this is a potentially volatile situation that could degenerate from a parley into a knife fight in short order. Don’t get me wrong, I am hopeful that your negotiations will be successful, but let’s not lose sight of the fact that they came here with hostile intentions in the first place. They are a dangerous, rogue faction from a potentially hostile alliance. I think it’s safe to say that the best we can hope for at this point is to convince them to return home in the hopes that cooler heads will eventually prevail.”

“Understood, sir.”

“Keep in mind that I’ll have a full tactical view of the battlespace as soon as
Theseus
transitions to normal space at Location Dagger. If we find ourselves in a fight, it’s obviously my preference to do so out there rather than here in the system where we will be forced to commit the bulk of our forces to defense. If I see an opportunity where sending you some additional help might prove decisive, I’ll do what I can, but, for the moment at least, I have precious few C-Jump capable ships at my disposal. Unfortunately, most of our capital ships are a twenty-hour flight away, and I can’t justify the risk of not having them available to defend the Earth, if necessary.”

Patterson paused and studied both of their faces. He knew full well that
Theseus
was the only realistic option he had for this mission, but he was also painfully aware of the unrelenting stress that her captain and crew had been under for the past month … not to mention what they had already been through just this morning.
One more month,
he thought.
If we had had just one more month before all this hit the fan …

“Do either of you have any last-minute questions for me?” Patterson finally asked.

“No, sir,” both Prescott and Reynolds replied in unison.

“Well then, Commodore … Commander …
Theseus
is hereby authorized to hoist a broad pennant and depart immediately. Good luck and Godspeed.”

TFS Theseus

“Commodore on the bridge,” Lieutenant Commander Schmidt announced as Prescott and Reynolds emerged from the captain’s ready room. This being the first time their captain had officially been in command of a squadron of ships on detached duty, all six officers and the Marine sentry stood at attention as he made his way back to his Command chair.

“Thank you all,” Prescott said quietly. The admiral mentioning the occasion had been one thing, but something about having his bridge crew make this seemingly simple acknowledgment struck him with an unexpected wave of emotion. He swallowed hard before attempting to say anything else, feeling that now was hardly the time for a display of foolish sentimentality. “I appreciate that very much … more than you know, in fact. When we at last reach the point where we are no longer responding to the crisis of the day, every one of us — every member of our crew — has much to celebrate. I promise you when that happens, we
will
celebrate … and we’ll do so in a way that’s worthy of our accomplishments.”

“First and best, sir,” Commander Schmidt said proudly.

“First and best,” Prescott replied, smiling broadly. “By the way, let’s just stick with ‘Captain’ for now, if you would. I’m afraid if you all suddenly start calling me ‘Commodore,’ I might miss something important. Are we ready to go?”

“Yes, sir. All systems in the green. The ship is at General Quarters for combat ops and ready to C-Jump,” Schmidt reported as he made his way back to the Tactical 1 console.

“Very good … Commander Logan, bridge.”

“Logan here. Go ahead, Captain.”

“If you’re having doubts about any of our critical systems, particularly the shields and the C-Drive, now would be a good time to say so.”

“As much as I hate to tempt fate by answering that question, everything down here is exceeding expectations so far, sir. That short C-Jump provided some data that allowed us to dial the C-Drive in a little tighter, so you should be able to expect good positional accuracy and the full one-hundred-light-year range. In fact, you might see a little more than that if the current trend holds. As far as the shields go, they are almost completely managed by the AI, so there isn’t much either of us can or should do other than hope they work when we need them.”

“We aren’t going far, but it wouldn’t surprise me if we get a warm greeting at first when we arrive. If you see the slightest indication that the shields are not going to hold, I need to know immediately.”

“Aye, sir, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Thank you, Commander. Stand by for C-Jump followed by possible incoming fire. Prescott out.”

SCS Hadeon, Pelaran Resistance Rally Point

(3.3 light years from Earth)

“Perimeter drone contact!” a Wek lieutenant called from one of
Hadeon’s
four Defensive Operations workstations. As if to further emphasize the lieutenant’s announcement, the sound of the battlespace defense cruiser’s reactors increasing their power output was clearly audible on the bridge as she automatically opened fire with her starboard energy weapons banks. “Only one ship this time, and in almost exactly the same location as the previous two scout ships. The AI classified the contact as a probable Terran warship and has already engaged.”

“That much I can hear for myself. Who gave the order to fire?” Captain Miah demanded, furious not because of the attack so much as the idea that anyone would presume to take action without his expressed permission.

“Captain,” Commander Takkar said, leaning over and speaking in a low voice in an attempt to save the pompous Damaran from further embarrassment, “the task force’s standing rules of engagement allow the battlespace defense AI to autonomously attack hostile targets if there is sufficient data to classify them as such. The system was designed to provide force protection over a large area of space. Removing the need for manual intervention is a key …”

“I’m fully versed on the design of the
Keturah
-class BD cruiser, Commander,” Miah interrupted with such a vehement tone that Takkar pulled quickly away — his mind instinctively preparing his body to defend itself, if necessary.

The massive Wek commander’s reaction caused an equally involuntary chill to run down Commander Miah’s spine. Realizing that he was perilously close to crossing a line that might yield an unpredictable response from this simple-minded barbarian, he immediately moderated his tone.

“Apologies, Commander. I am not sure the original rules of engagement should still apply, given the dramatically diminished size of our current force. That, however, is a discussion for later. In the meantime, does it make sense to you that the Humans would send a single vessel back to the precise location where they lost contact with two of their scouts?”

“I prefer not to speculate, Captain Miah, but the Terrans might simply be looking for their missing ships,” Takkar said, furrowing his brow. “It’s also possible they know we are here and wish to communicate with us.”

“If that were the case, I assume we would have received their hail by now. Besides, I’m sure they are intelligent enough to realize that our immediately opening fire on them is a strong indication that we are not here to chat,” Miah sneered.

“The Pelarans seem to be in the habit of sending in a single ship … one with such an asymmetric technological advantage that additional ships are simply not required,” Takkar said as he called up a real-time video feed of the intruder from the closest surveillance drone. He had offered this final explanation not because he believed it to be the case so much as he knew that it would both irritate and terrify the Damaran.

“Nonsense! There is no indication the Humans have done much more than putter around in the immediate vicinity of the Sol system with a few small scout ships and maybe a frigate or two,” Miah scoffed. “Surely you don’t mean to imply they have anything that might pose a serious threat to several of our warships at one time.”

Commander Takkar, having long since grown tired of Miah’s seemingly endless stream of insulting comments, simply nodded towards the view screen in reply. The light-amplified and thermally enhanced image of the approaching Terran warship was rendered with a stunning level of clarity, and it was with no small degree of satisfaction that Takkar detected a renewed stench of fear from his so-called captain.

TFS Theseus, Location Dagger

Since the primary objective of
Theseus’
mission was contingent on the Resistance task force agreeing to a parley, there was no particular need for subtlety upon her arrival at Location Dagger. In fact, Prescott had intentionally chosen their transition point to coincide with the final recon location of the two missing
Hunter
RPSVs in the faint hope that it might provide some indication of their intentions.

“Four contacts,” Lieutenant Lau reported immediately from Tactical 2. “Passive sensors only so far — approximate range: three million kilometers — four Sajeth Collective cruiser-class warships. They’ll have us in six seconds, Captain.”

“Understood. Designate as Charlie 1 through 4 and bring up a tactical plot on the starboard view screen, please,” Prescott replied calmly. “Dubashi, begin transmitting Admiral Naftur’s parley request hail in a continuous loop until we get a response.”

“Aye, sir,” both responded as the somewhat intimidating tactical plot appeared on the right side of the view screen. With the exception of Lieutenant Lee, every member of the bridge crew had witnessed firsthand the huge volume of firepower even a single cruiser could bring to bear, and each now struggled to steel themselves for the potential battle to come.

Sensing the tension in the room, Prescott spoke up in as confident a tone as he could muster. “Everyone take a deep breath and relax. We may well get fired on shortly, but we’ll be just fine. Keep in mind that we’re here to defend our home, and while we would prefer to avoid a fight if we can, we’ve brought exactly the right ship for the job if a fight turns out to be what’s required.”

“Hooyah, sir,” Lieutenant Lau replied.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” Prescott asked.

“Hooyah!” every member of the bridge crew shouted as one.

As if on cue, both Tactical consoles emitted a series of warning chimes indicating that the threat posed by the nearby warships had increased to critical levels, requiring the crew to take immediate action.

“They have opened fire with energy weapons, sir,” Lau reported. “It’s a little wide … almost like they are still working up a firing solution … or maybe just trying to bracket our position.”