TFS Navajo: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 3 (24 page)

BOOK: TFS Navajo: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 3
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A chorus of “aye, sirs” filled the bridge, followed a few seconds later by an update from Ensign Fisher at the Helm console. “Completing our turn back, Captain. Ready to C-Jump in zero niner seconds.”

“Did we get a response from Commander Takkar on the
Hadeon
?” Prescott asked impatiently.

“Yes, sir,” Dubashi replied. “They were just about to break contact with the
Baldev
when the two enemy ships arrived. They’re already on the move and should be clear shortly. He indicated that they will be awaiting further instructions at Location Willow.”

“Good. Go ahead and signal our fighters to rendezvous with us at Willow as well. I don’t think there is much they can do for us here at this point.”

“Aye, sir.”

“Sir,” Lieutenant Lee said from the Science and Engineering console. “I’ll have the
Sherpa
ready to evacuate Rescue 11 in two two seconds. Lieutenant Jacks is ready to go, but reports that it will take him a couple of minutes to get everyone aboard.”

“I trust you impressed upon him that he may not
have
a couple of minutes?”

“I did, sir. He said the only way to speed things up is to abandon the survivors. And I can promise you that’s not something he will be willing to do.”

“Captain,” Lieutenant Lau announced from Tactical 2, “the
Zhelov
and
Serapion
are now in beam weapons range of the Resistance ships.”

“They’ve also engaged their supplemental aft shields,” Schmidt added. “They’ve stopped accelerating, but are continuing along the same course as before.”

“Ready to C-Jump,” Fisher announced.

“Tactical, hit them both as hard as you can with the railguns and directed energy weapons. Pretty much everything we have should bear on one target or the other. Helm, execute your jump,” Prescott ordered.

“Aye, sir,” Fisher replied. “C-Jumping in 3 … 2 … 1 …”

On the bridge view screen,
Theseus’
AI automatically minimized a number of previously open windows in order to provide an unobscured view of their arrival between the two Resistance battleships. With just over five hundred kilometers now separating the
Theseus
from each of the two enemy vessels, neither was as close as the
Baldev
had been during her earlier attack runs. Given the speed and power of the weapons involved, however, the three warships were still within what might be referred to as “point-blank range” from one another. Just as Captain Prescott had predicted, every operational weapons mount aboard
Theseus
had a clear line of sight at one or the other of her two targets and, within seconds of her arrival, she was showering both with a steady hail of railgun penetrator rounds and energy weapons bolts.

“No response from either ship, Captain,” Schmidt reported as
Theseus
passed aft of her targets. “They have not returned fire and are continuing on course.”

“Any apparent damage?”

“Superficial only, sir. Their shields are more effective from the sides — even against the railguns.”

“Keep it up. Helm, extend this run downrange so that we have a little more time to concentrate fire on their sterns, then give us another pass right down the middle.”

“Aye, sir,” Fisher said.

“Captain, the
Hadeon
has transitioned to hyperspace.” Lau reported.

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

“I have to say that I’m a little surprised that they aren’t bothering to return fire,” Reynolds observed, looking up from her touchscreen for the first time since their C-Jump.

“At this point, I’m guessing that’s a combination of their following orders while at the same time making the point that there’s nothing we can do to stop them from doing whatever they like,” Prescott replied. “Captain Yagani said that the battleships were being told to ‘avoid contact with enemy forces here and depart immediately for Terra.’ Their not bothering to fire on us is consistent with having received such an order. The problem is, they could have stayed in the exclusion zone and immediately transitioned back to hyperspace — but they didn’t.”

“Instead, they calculated a flight profile out of the area that would take them within weapons range of their own disabled ships,” Reynolds continued. “I suppose it makes sense that the commodore didn’t share that particular piece of information with Captain Yagani …”

“Sir, both enemy ships are firing,” Lieutenant Lau reported gravely. With most of the bridge view screen occupied by an aft-facing view of the two warships, his report was largely unnecessary as the bridge was once again lit by the hellish, orange-tinted flash of energy weapons fire. There were several seconds of silence on the bridge as every member of the crew watched, transfixed by the horror playing out in front of them.

“Schmidt, give us visuals on the
Keturah
,
Baldev
, and
Babayev
, please,” Prescott ordered.

Though it had been only seconds since the
Zhelov
and
Serapion
had opened fire, their two most distant targets were already taking tremendous damage. Their immediate prey — the
Baldev
and the
Babayev
— were completely defenseless against the onslaught, adrift and with no shields to protect their most vulnerable internal components. Accordingly, the two battleships focused their fire on the areas most likely to result in secondary explosions in an effort to bring about the ships’ complete destruction as quickly as possible. Unlike their Terran counterparts, Sajeth Collective warships were still required to carry large quantities of propellant for use in their sublight engines. The volatile chemicals used for this purpose were typically stored deep within the most heavily armored and shielded sections of the hull. In this case, however, the two battleships had the additional advantage of knowing precisely where to concentrate their fire for maximum effect.

Aboard
Theseus
, Captain Prescott continued his attempt to draw the enemy battleships’ fire, but it was now painfully obvious that the entire effort had been in vain. A stunned silence seemed to permeate the bridge as the
Zhelov
and
Serapion
methodically disassembled their targets with a cold, calculating precision that might have engendered a sense of admiration were it not for the realization that they were witnessing the senseless, brutal murder of thousands. On the view screen, both enemy warships maintained a continuous, heavy bombardment — energy weapons fire issuing relentlessly from beam emitters mounted all along the sides facing their respective targets. In the windows displaying the
Baldev
and
Babayev,
it was clear that their hulls had already been torn into several large sections, each one tinged with a wicked, red glow of twisted, molten metal — and still the energy weapons fire continued. What possible justification, military or otherwise, could ever be put forward for such an act, they wondered … what leader, bound by any reasonable system of morality, could live with the repercussions of issuing such an order?

“Lieutenant Lee, what’s the status of Rescue 11?” Prescott asked with a weary tone of resignation in his voice.

“I’ve been monitoring their tactical comm, sir. They made more rapid progress than expected in getting everyone back aboard their
Sherpa
. I’ve got them headed in the opposite direction now, but the shuttle’s painfully slow, sir. Shall I patch them through?”

“Yes, please. Ensign Fisher, do you have them?”

“Yes, sir.”

“C-Jump us as close as you can to put us in a position to bring them aboard. Put us between the
Sherpa
and the two battleships. Make sure our bow faces the enemy ships so that we can shield the aft flight apron from incoming fire.”

“Understood, Captain. Projecting two six seconds to C-Jump. I’ll get us as close as I can, but after we’re over there it will take some time to get us in a good position to make the recovery.”

“Just do it as quickly as you can. The most important thing is to protect the shuttle from enemy fire. Execute when ready.”

“Aye, sir.”

“If both of those battleships open up on our bow, our weakened forward shields may not last long,” Reynolds said.

“You’re probably right, but our armor hung in there pretty well against the
Baldev’s
energy weapons — and at much shorter range. With any luck, we won’t have to sit there for long. In any event, I’m not sure we have much choice in the matter. The
Sherpa
would never survive even a single hit.”

“Sir, we’re up on Rescue 11’s tactical comm channel again,” Lieutenant Lee reported, accompanied by the obligatory chime over the ceiling speakers.

“Lieutenant Jacks, this is Prescott. Are you clear on what we’re about to do?”

“Yes, Captain, and I can tell you that we’re all quite anxious to get back onboard at this point.”

“I’m sure you are. Hang in there just a bit longer and we’ll make that happen.”

As if on cue, Ensign Fisher completed
Theseus’
turn and announced their imminent transition to hyperspace for the short trip back to the
Keturah
. “C-Jumping in 3 … 2 … 1 …”

Chapter 16

TFS Navajo, Earth-Sun Lagrange Point 2

(Combat Information Center - 1.5x10
6
km from Earth)

“It’s good to see you, sir,” Admiral Patterson said as he addressed the vidcon image of his immediate superior, Admiral Duke Sexton, Commander in Chief, Terran Fleet Command. “Before we get started, I wanted to let you know that the two Resistance battleships we have been expecting for some time have just arrived at Location Dagger.”

“It’s good to see you as well, but perhaps it might be better if we postpone this conversation until the situation at Dagger is resolved.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Captain Prescott remains in command of our forces in the area, supported by Captain Zhukov and Commander Waffer from the
Jutland
. They are more than capable of handling the situation without my looking over their collective shoulders. Having said that, we never stop looking over their shoulders, of course,” Patterson said with just a hint of a smile. “At the moment, Captain Davis is managing our oversight of active operational areas while I continue to prepare our defenses in system. The truth of the matter is that there is very little we can do to help them at this point anyway. All of our C-Drive-equipped capital ships have already been deployed. Our strategy at Location Dagger at the moment is to simply allow the new Resistance arrivals to transition through the area and deal with them once they arrive near Earth — hopefully, on a more equal footing.”

“As always, your judgment in such matters is beyond reproach. I know you’re bound to be feeling an unbelievable level of stress right now, but just know that you have my — and the Leadership Council’s for that matter — absolute confidence. Now don’t get me wrong,” Sexton continued, with a raised eyebrow, “we both know that I’m actually the best man for the job —”

“You’ll get no argument from me there, sir, but, even under these circumstances, I don’t think I would switch places with you if I were given the opportunity to do so.”

“No, I would say not. There’s a big part of me that can’t help but envy all of you still fortunate enough to be doing operational work. The battles I’m fighting down here are of an entirely different sort.”

“I can imagine. In fact, when we didn’t hear from you for a while after
Theseus
departed, I was beginning to think I was going to have to put together another evac mission and pull you out of there like we did with Naftur.”

“In all seriousness,” Sexton replied earnestly, “I know you’re kidding, but I also know that you’d be willing to do just about anything that didn’t violate your own ethical standards to help me, if needed. I certainly appreciate the sentiment, but no matter what happens down here, please don’t even consider doing something like that. We were walking a very fine line when we took Naftur and Turlaka off-world without specific permission from the Leadership Council to do so. At this point, I’d say about half of the Council’s representatives have made public statements accusing me of masterminding some sort of military coup that resulted in the Wek ‘escape.’ They’re also blaming me for Chairwoman Crull’s removal from office. The rest of them are up to their eyeballs trying to hold things together long enough to deal with the current situation. Right now, I have the sense that we’re a heartbeat away from disbanding as an organization, and we absolutely cannot afford to provide Crull’s people with any additional ‘evidence’ that our military forces are operating outside of the Council’s control.”

“Understood, but how is it that she still has so many followers on the Council after everything that’s happened? I would have thought that after she brought in her own private army to take over the Headquarters campus … to say nothing of the attempted murder of the Commander in Chief in front of fifty plus witnesses —”

“That they might start to question her motivations?”

“Hell, question her sanity for that matter. Surely they have to realize that she’s not fit to hold public office, particularly one with such far-reaching responsibilities. She’s under arrest at this point, and one would have to assume that she’ll at least be indicted for the shooting.”

“Oh, Crull is not one you would ever want to underestimate. As you know, her late husband had a long and distinguished career — first as a businessman, then as a politician — and he was phenomenally successful at both. He was generally well liked, and those who didn’t like him, feared him. There was a persistent rumor, however, that Karoline was the brains behind his success. I think that’s probably nonsense, since they were obviously
both
brilliant people. Based on my interactions with the two of them, however, I’d say it’s fair to say that he was the one who was liked, and she was the one who was feared. As to her quote, unquote ‘arrest,’ I’m surprised they’ve managed to hold her as long as they have.”

“I don’t understand. Surely you don’t think she will get away with what she’s done.”

“She might very well be permanently removed as Chairwoman — although she’s technically just on ‘administrative leave’ at the moment — but her status as a Leadership Council representative provides her with diplomatic immunity. This has never been challenged in court, to my knowledge, but all TFC member nations, including the United States where the incident happened, agreed to grant this status when they originally signed the charter.”

“So she’s free to do pretty much whatever she pleases and the host country can’t even so much as issue her a parking ticket,” Patterson observed wryly.

“Hah,” Sexton laughed, “interestingly enough, I think that’s actually something the host country
can
legally do, but if they did, there would be precious little they could do about it when the tickets went unpaid. In all seriousness, the Council is keeping her status very much under wraps at the moment, as you can well imagine. It’s possible she could be indicted by the authorities back in the Central and South American Union, but —”

“Uh, right, let’s see,” Patterson interjected, reading from a biographical summary on the adjacent wall-mounted view screen, “third wealthiest woman in the world, owner of a controlling interest in the second largest corporation in South America, globetrotting philanthropist with world-spanning political ties — not to mention celebrity status in all of the countries that make up the CSAU.”

“Exactly, so don’t expect to see her standing trial for attempting to knock off some ‘rogue military officer’ anytime soon,” Sexton said. “In fact, a couple of international news outlets have already referenced ‘unnamed sources’ who claim she is being illegally detained after attempting to thwart a military takeover of Terran Fleet Command Headquarters.”

“Jeez, now
that’s
rich, under the circumstances,” Patterson replied, rolling his eyes.

“Well, there’s how things should be … and then there’s how things are,” Sexton smiled. “Alright, regarding the business at hand, your last update indicated you intended for the two of us to attempt to make contact with the Guardian. I think I understand what you have in mind. Your primary goal is to ascertain its intentions once we come under attack, correct?”

“That’s right. We need to have some idea regarding what, if anything, we can expect it to do when the Resistance ships arrive. The last thing we need is for one of our ships to inadvertently do something that it interprets as a hostile action, so if it’s going to participate in our defense, there needs to be some sort of coordination to prevent any misunderstanding of intentions.”

“And if it has no wish to participate, you need some assurance that it will remain clear of your operations,” Sexton added.

“That’s correct. Frankly, I’m not sure which of these two options I prefer, but since we have no control whatsoever over what it does or doesn’t do, I would at least like to see if we can get it to agree to cooperate with us on some level.”

“It has made a number of rather ambiguous statements along those lines, as I recall,” Sexton observed. “One day it makes reference to how it can no longer defend us without our participation, the next it says something about us now having everything we need to defend ourselves without its help. I have to say, however, that it seems strange to consider that it might simply stand by and allow us to be attacked without intervening in any way. Why would it allow something like that to happen after sitting on us like a mother hen for five hundred years? In my mind, that seems like the ultimate in wasted efforts.”

“I suppose,” Patterson said pensively. “Unless the mother hen knows that at some point, we have to be able to fend for ourselves. And if we’re unable to do so —”

“It’s time to cut its losses and move on. I guess that does make sense if you consider that the Pelarans seem to be all about playing the long game. You have to figure that if they’ve completed their ‘cultivation’ program enough times, there must have been instances where late stage failures have occurred. Anyway, we’re just speculating at this point, but I agree that it’s worth a try to see if we can get … what are they calling it again?”

“‘Griffin,’ but you won’t catch me calling it that,” Patterson scowled.

“Oh, right … get ‘Griffin’ to play along,” Sexton continued, smiling in response to his long-time colleague’s occasionally cantankerous attitude. “Do you think it will answer our hail?”

“I do, although there’s still so much radio traffic aimed in its direction that I think we’ll try a laser comlink like we used during the so-called induction meeting. At last check, the
Navajo
was just coming into range. Shall I give it a try?”

“No harm in trying it,” Sexton replied.

Patterson nodded in the direction of Ensign Fletcher, waiting dutifully at her Communications console nearby. With no appreciable delay, the view screen displaying the vidcon image of Admiral Sexton opened an additional window containing the smiling Human avatar of the Pelaran Guardian spacecraft. As if he had guessed the topic of conversation, he was once again wearing what appeared to be a close facsimile of the black flight suits worn by TFC pilots.

“Well hello, Admiral Sexton … Admiral Patterson. This is indeed a rare pleasure,” ‘Griffin’ greeted them in a particularly amiable tone. “I expected that I would hear from a TFC representative at some point, but I will freely admit that I did not anticipate that it would be the two of you. How can I be of service?”

“Thank you for taking our call,” Admiral Sexton began with the odd sense of uncertainty that always seemed to accompany a conversation with the sentient machine. “As you know, Admiral Patterson is our Chief of Naval Operations. For the duration of the current crisis, I have placed him in operational command of all of our military forces. We have some questions for you of an operational nature, so I would like to turn the conversation over to him momentarily. Before I do so, however, I want to assure you once again that we have absolutely no hostile intent towards you — now, or during any combat operations that may occur between TFC forces and those of the Pelaran Resistance.”

“Not to make light of such a serious subject,” the Guardian replied, smiling pleasantly, “but don’t you find their choice of names a little odd? ‘Pelaran Resistance’ makes me think of a group of Pelarans
resisting
something or someone — not some odd cross-section of the Sajeth Collective
resisting
the Pelarans. Clearly, they could have used some marketing help at the outset of their ill-conceived little movement. I’m sorry, I don’t mean to get us off-topic right away. Yes, I understand that you harbor no hostile intent towards me. I appreciate your taking the time to reiterate this fact, although it would be strange if we considered one another anything less than the closest of allies, given our long and very successful history together.”

You’re certainly an authority on marketing,
Sexton thought.
Everything that comes out of your virtual mouth sounds like a propaganda-laden campaign ad for the Pelaran Alliance.
“We just want to avoid any potential for misunderstanding one other’s intentions,” he said with a polite smile.

“A sensible precaution. So, Admiral Patterson, is there something specific you would like me to do?” the Guardian asked.

“I hate to answer a question with a question,” Patterson replied, “but can I first ask that you clarify your intentions? You have told us that you defended the Earth against attack for centuries. Are you still acting in that capacity?”

“Ah, yes, that is the question, is it not? You face an imminent attack from an enemy that until very recently you didn’t even know existed. Worse still, it’s an ambiguous enemy, elements of which appear to share much in common with your species and profess to offer you friendship — perhaps even membership in their alliance at some point. At the same time, you struggle to come to grips with my choosing this point in time to openly reveal myself — and the Pelaran Alliance I represent — to your world. Unfortunately, and I know you’re not going to like this answer, there are long-established rules governing what I can and cannot reveal to a species that has been offered membership in our Alliance, but has not yet made its decision to join. Specific details regarding my continuing role as a defender of your world certainly fall within this category.”

Patterson stared at the Guardian’s synthetic, albeit completely lifelike, image for several seconds, thinking through his options before continuing. “As you say, we have a well-established history of successful cooperation with you during our species’ vetting process — a process that you personally supervised over a period of hundreds of years. And even though we have not yet elected to join, you have graciously extended the offer of membership — and full membership at that, based on our genetic ties to the Pelarans.”

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