Black Fleet Trilogy 1: Warship (12 page)

Jackson grunted but didn't respond. He'd been looking at the attack as politically motivated, but if this was something personal as the sergeant had suggested that would open up the list of suspects to ... none. It threw an unwelcome wrench into his investigation because he could no longer look at the closest neighbor as the most likely suspect.

Agent Pike's convoluted musings were still bouncing around in his head about the AU possibly making a move on Haven, further muddying the waters. What if Tsuyo Corporation had caught wind of an impending attack and decided to strike first? Xi'an would be a viable staging area and Tsuyo certainly had the firepower. The company quietly operated one of the largest private militaries in existence, including ships so advanced the technology on them wouldn't be sold to the Confederacy for decades, though they claimed it was strictly for research and their powerful fleet was nothing more than a collection of testbeds. It wasn't outside the realm of possibility that they had some sort of strategic weapon that could level a planet like this.

His contemplation of the situation was cut short by screaming from his technical team. When he snapped his head up he saw the two engineering specialists holding onto one of the medical specialists, who in turn was hanging onto a probe on the end of a telescopic pole. As he ran towards the commotion he could see the med specialist seemed to be getting pulled towards the slick.

"Drop the fucking probe!" he shouted as he ran along, the Marines chasing after him. If they heard him they gave no indication, as the two engineering techs continued to pull futilely on their crewmate. Before Jackson could reach them the strap to the probe let go, which was the handhold one of the other techs was using, causing both rescuers to lose their grip. The tech holding the probe was half-pulled into the slick with a disgusting slurping sound; he began screaming shrilly, his head and shoulders still out of the ooze.

They all looked on in horror as his struggles and screams got weaker and weaker until the latter stopped with a choked-off gurgling sound. It happened so fast they had no time to try to put together a rescue plan or even toss him a line to try and drag him out.

"Everyone GET BACK!" Jackson shouted, snapping everyone out of their shock. They all retreated to what they felt was a safe thirty meters and watched as their crewmate's body was slowly pulled into the slick, the bent pole of the probe sticking up as an obscene marker for his final resting place.

"Captain, what was that?" a shaken technician asked. Jackson looked over and saw it was someone from Singh's department.

"I have no idea," he said. "But I think it's safe to say we know what happened to the population of this planet. What did we get from that thing before it took him?"

"The probes were all transmitting their readings to this box," the remaining med tech said, holding up a non-descript black impact case. "We also were able to secure a few samples before it reached out and took Lott."

"Very well," Jackson said, not sure what to say. He'd never lost anyone under his command, not even to an accident during shore leave. "Let's not waste the data Specialist Lott collected—"

"Sir!" one of the Marines said, pointing back to the slick. Jackson looked up and saw an offshoot of the mass beginning to accelerate towards them, rolling along the ground quickly.

"Back to the shuttle! Double time!" Jackson said. "Sergeant, inform the pilot we'll be departing as soon as we're all aboard."

"Aye aye, sir," the sergeant responded, not having any issue talking conversationally while running fast enough to keep up with him. Jackson felt a pang of annoyance at that as he was already feeling out of breath and they'd not even covered a quarter of the distance.

              They could hear the turbines spooling as they sprinted to the waiting shuttle, the crew chief frantically waving them in. They stomped up the back ramp and threw themselves into their seats, feeling the engines build power before the rear hatch had even swung shut and locked. By the time Jackson had secured his restraints, the turbines were howling as the shuttle climbed up and away from the slick at a steep angle.

****

Jackson barely remembered the shuttle ride back to the ship. He was vaguely aware it took them longer than it usually would because the small craft had to build up a lot of speed before it could change orbits and approach the
Blue Jacket
as she streaked over the planet. He snapped back to alertness once he felt the gravity inside the shuttle increase as it slowly reversed into the gaping maw of the destroyer's launch bay. The jolt of the ship's docking mechanism as it grabbed the shuttle and snugged it up against the airlock marked the end of a horrific mission in which Specialist Lott was the first person Jackson had ever lost under his command.

"Maintain quarantine protocols on those samples," he said quietly over the noise of the shuttle. "There will be a mission debrief in one hour, conference room on deck one-bravo. Everything that took place on the surface is classified until further notice."

He didn't wait for their acknowledgements. Instead he climbed out of his seat and motioned for the crew chief to open the rear hatch so he could get away.

"
Blue Jacket
, arriving." Somehow the passionless voice of the computer had an accusatory tone to it as it announced his return. He fled the small craft and the staging area as fast as he reasonably could without actually running. In his mind he felt the accusing stares of the crew.
You took them down there. You let him die.

By some miracle he made it to his quarters without being stopped or his comlink requesting his presence. He locked the hatch and violently ripped his rank insignia off his collar before tearing his uniform off with no less vigor. Once inside the private head he turned the water in the shower up to the hottest setting and stepped into the stream, not even flinching as it scalded his skin.

He leaned forward and let his forehead slam into the hard composite of the stall, letting the blistering stream run down his back. After an indeterminate amount of time he shut the water off and stepped out into the steam-filled head, the mist swirling as the small fan tried to pull in the moisture so the environmental systems could extract the water. His skin was bright red where the too-hot water had hit him, but he barely noticed. The screams of Specialist Lott came unbidden to his mind and he turned quickly, vomiting into the toilet.

It was some time later when he felt ready to dry himself off and get into a clean uniform. He walked out into the bedroom of his quarters and saw his comlink flashing with messages from Commander Wright and Commander Owens, the ship's Chief Medical Officer and Specialist Lott's superior.

He entered a quick response to both requesting they be there for the mission debrief and left it at that. As he pawed through his wall locker for another set of fatigues, he saw the box on the bottom shelf. Four small, round caps looked back up at him from the case that had twelve slots. He stared at the one in the top right corner for a full minute with longing, debating with himself how much time he had before he had to be in the conference room. He was the captain, after all. Wouldn't the briefing wait for him?

With waning resolve, he pulled his uniform out of the locker and firmly shut it. Even though he didn't know Lott, and couldn't have picked him out of a lineup, he wouldn't piss on the man's memory by showing up to the mission debrief and talk about his death with glassy eyes. He dressed quickly with a mechanical efficiency born of twenty-three years of repetition. Once his boots were on and had tightened themselves down on his feet, he inspected himself in the mirror while reattaching his rank insignia on one side of the collar and the
Blue Jacket's
crest on the other. Steeling himself, he keyed the hatch open and walked out into the deserted corridor.

****

"I know emotions are high and nerves are frayed right now, but let's try and get through this without missing anything," Jackson began once all the required attendees had filed into the conference room. As the hatch slid closed he took a deep breath and began recounting the mission on the surface to his staff. He was able to make it through the events of the day without interruption or anyone pointing an accusing finger at him.

"So you're under the assumption that this is a biological weapon of some sort?" Commander Owens said after Jackson had finished the recounting and had shown them the recordings from the tech teams' helmet cameras.

"Assumption may be too strong a word," Jackson said. "It's a working theory at the moment."

Commander Owens seemed to be less interested in the death of one of his specialists than he was in knowing what Jackson intended to do with the samples sitting in Medical.

"As you know, Captain, we have no staff able to test the samples brought back," Owens said. "I would suggest we jettison them or put them in cryogenic storage for the trip back to Haven."

"That's not technically true, Commander," Celesta said, speaking up before Jackson could answer. "There's a microbiologist and an expert on infectious diseases on your staff. You also have an ISO-2 clean room at your disposal which would be sufficient for an agent that isn't even airborne."

Commander Owens looked like he wanted to leap across the table and strangle Celesta.

"Your experts will have plenty to do just going through the remote probe data the team collected," Jackson said, heading off an argument. "While I don't foresee the need to directly test the samples right now, I want them put into cryo storage and preserved. We will not be jettisoning them off the ship."

"Of course, Captain," Owens said, appearing mollified.

"If there is nothing else, you're all dismissed," Jackson said. "Commander Wright will coordinate the memorial service for Specialist Lott and I will prepare a briefing for the crew. It's time everyone knows what we do about what is happening."

****

"Lieutenant Peters," Jackson said as he walked onto the bridge. "I want one of our com drones prepped for flight. It will be a direct course for the Alpha Centauri system. I will update you on the package contents shortly. There are to be
no
unauthorized communications loaded onto the drone, and I
will
be checking."

"Yes, sir," Peters said. "Sending the command now to pull a drone out of storage. It will take a few hours before it's ready to launch."

"That's fine," Jackson said. "Lieutenant, you have the bridge. I'll be in my office. Commander Wright will be coming on duty shortly."

He retreated to his office and pulled up a connection to the secure server all the mission data had been stored on. After sifting through it he decided to simply include everything they had, even the horrific video recordings of Specialist First Class Lott's death, in a compressed folder he added to the com packet he would eventually forward to OPS so that it could be loaded into the com drone.

He again reflected on the "gift" Admiral Winters had given him. In her need to gloat about the demise of his career, she had freed him to respond in ways he never would have before. For instance, he most likely would have tried to suppress the associated imagery of Lott's death for fear his actions leading to it would harm his career or cost him his command. With such considerations no longer hanging over his head like an executioner's axe, he felt he was able to consider the problem with an untainted point of view. He would include everything from the ground mission, in all its gory details, along with a synopsis of his planned actions afterward. He was more concerned about how his crew would react to what he was planning to do next than he was about an admiral sitting over a hundred lightyears away.

Chapter 10

"I'll make this as quick as I can since we all have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in," Jackson said, sitting behind his desk and talking to the camera set up in front of him. "I'm sure there are rumors flying around about what we've found in this system, on Xi'an, and even the loss of a crewmate.

"Five days ago we transitioned into the Xi'an system and found it deserted. No ships, no satellites, no com drone platform. As we made orbit we found the destruction was absolute all the way to the surface. Not a single resident of Xi'an was left alive, no structure was left standing, and very little evidence was left to tell us who was responsible." He paused as the pre-arranged images he'd loaded of the destruction scrolled across the monitor.

"It is also with a heavy heart that I tell you about the loss of one of our own. Specialist First Class Davis Lott was killed in action during our investigation of the anomaly found on the surface. Details of his memorial service this evening are posted on the shipwide message board. Specialist Lott was a well-respected member of the
Blue Jacket's
medical staff and will be missed.

"Since we're still not sure what, or who, caused this disaster we are pressing ahead with our investigation. CENTCOM will be notified of our findings and we will soon be breaking orbit for our next destination. I'm going to be straight with you. The evidence and intelligence we have available to us points to a faction within the Warsaw Alliance. To confirm or disprove this we will be departing for Oplotom, a world right across the accepted border, as soon as Chief Engineer Singh clears the ship. We owe it to every one of the citizens on Xi'an to find out who did this before they have a chance to strike again.

"These are events unprecedented since humanity first ventured away from Earth and later, Haven. I expect, and know, that you will rise to the occasion. That is all."

The red light over the camera winked out and Jackson leaned back in his seat, letting out an explosive breath.

"I thought that was just the right tone, sir," Celesta said. She and Ensign Davis were the only other ones in the office, the former to observe and the latter to manage the extra imagery Jackson had included in his presentation.

"It will hopefully answer enough of their questions without raising new ones," he shrugged. "The rumors had enough traction that anything less than near-full disclosure would have only fanned the flames."

"That's likely true," Celesta conceded. "I think we'll have to warn the department heads to be extra vigilant anyway. Something as incredible as a planet-sterilizing attack may create some unexpected reactions within the crew. Especially since spacers in Black Fleet are pulled from all parts of the Confederacy. It would have been entirely possible to have Xi'an citizens serving onboard."

"There aren't any, are there?" Jackson asked, wanting to kick himself for not having thought of that himself.

"No, sir," Ensign Davis spoke up. "I did a search on the crew personnel files when we first entered the system and detected something might have happened to the planet. I informed Commander Wright we had no crew from Xi'an aboard."

"Thank you, Ensign," Jackson said with a nod. "That was some quick thinking."

"Thank you, Captain," Davis said with a slight smile. "If there’s nothing else?"

"No, Ensign, you're dismissed," Jackson said.

"Commander," Davis nodded to Celesta as she walked out the hatch. After it closed, Celesta looked to Jackson speculatively.

"She's really quite good," she said. "Why didn't you promote from within and give her a shot at Executive Officer? She has the experience and routinely has overwatch anyway."

"I did push for her," Jackson said with a humorless smile. "I was overridden."

Celesta suddenly looked wildly uncomfortable and shifted in her chair. "I wasn't aware—"

"Of course you weren't," Jackson said, waving her off. "It would have been impossible anyway. She'd have to be step promoted to at least lieutenant commander and it would bounce her right over Peters. As for your recommendation, it was a little bit of inside politics that you got caught up in, but it wasn't your fault. I didn't mention it to you because I didn't want you to begin your first stretch as XO feeling like you were resented and with a target on your back. You've done very well and you're already a far more effective XO than Stevenson was ... you've earned your position."

"Thank you, sir," she said, obviously wanting nothing more than to change the subject.

"Have you looked over the reports from Singh yet?"

"Yes, sir," she answered. "It still looks like another four days of repairs at least."

"That's what I figured when I read them," Jackson nodded. "No matter. We'll break orbit within the hour and just use a slower flight profile out to our jump point."

"The jump point is relatively far out in the system," Celesta said. "We should have plenty of time for Engineering to wrap up everything on the schedule."

"I'm sure you're right," Jackson said, not sure whom he was trying to convince more.

It was another twelve hours after the memorial service for Specialist Lott when the
Blue Jacket's
main engines fired and began to lug her up the gravity well, breaking orbit from Xi’an. Jackson sat pensively on the bridge as he ran the calculations in his head again, hoping to have his armament at least fifty percent functional by the time he would need to put on a final burst of speed to hit their transition point at the correct minimum velocity.

The crew seemed tense and unsure and, unfortunately, Jackson had no way to reassure them since he shared their misgivings. All the years on the bridge of starships and he’d never had to try and calm down a spooked crew or project a front of calm he didn’t feel. Annoyingly, Commander Wright seemed to be able to do just that. She sat in her seat, almost serene as the rumble of the mains drowned out the ambient sounds of the bridge equipment.

****

The four-day flight to the edge of the system passed unremarkably. The crew seemed to settle down from the sudden loss of one of their own, and Singh’s department, tasked with a real challenge for the first time in a decade, far exceeded the chief engineer’s most optimistic schedule projections and, frankly, shocked the captain with their efficiency. They’d implemented creative solutions and had all of the
Blue Jacket's
forward-facing weaponry fully active. Point defense was still an issue and there was practically zero coverage on the aft end of the destroyer, but Jackson couldn’t complain with the results considering where they’d started.

“I feel like the sense of purpose has done the crew a lot of good,” Celesta remarked one evening as she sat in the wardroom grabbing a light lunch.

“It’s only been a few days,” Jackson said. “I’ll admit the technical staff has wildly exceeded my expectations, but we’ll see what happens when we hit the Oplotom system. I don’t think a Terran starship has fired a shot in anger in over two hundred years.”

“You’re still convinced it’s the Alliance?” Lieutenant Peters said as he scrolled through the drink menu on the automated dispenser.

“It’s currently the most logical answer,” Jackson said, washing out his coffee mug and frowning at the film that had formed on the interior between infrequent scrubbings. “But nothing would make me happier than to be wrong about that. Breaking a centuries-long peace is not how I envisioned ending my career.”

Celesta looked up sharply at that comment and he kicked himself for his careless tongue. He’d had no intention of letting her in on Admiral Winters’ little love letter until the cruise was on its final leg back to Haven.

“Captain Wolfe, please report to the bridge,” the monotone summons from the ship’s computer droned over the intercom.

“On my way,” he said, killing any further automated messages. “Lieutenant Peters, I want you in CIC during both transitions, but especially when we pop out in that Alliance system.”

“You got it, Captain,” Peters said casually, drawing an irritated look from Celesta.

“What is it, Ensign?” Jackson asked as he walked back onto the bridge.

“We’re less than two hours from the jump point,” Davis reported. “We’ve accelerated to transition velocity and we’re ready to shut the mains down and deploy the warp drive.”

“Very well,” Jackson said. “I also assume you’ve called me up here because you’re ready to launch your com drone.”

“Yes, sir,” she confirmed. “Drone is loaded with the package and is locked out from further incoming data. Your clearance code is required for the final interlock.”

“Stand by,” Jackson said as he pulled up the correct menu on his own display, verifying that everything Davis had told him was true.

It was all there. The data packet to CENTCOM as well as a hidden burst transmission that would ping a certain CENTCOM Intelligence Section comlink address, a message that would propagate out along the com network until it was received and confirmed. He placed his thumb against the biometric reader while simultaneously entering his passcode with his left hand. The credentials were accepted and the screen disappeared.

“Thank you, sir,” Davis said as her panel chirped. “Drone launch will commence in fifteen minutes, destination Haven.”

“What’s the ETA on that?”

“Two days, sir,” she said.

He tried to crunch the numbers in his head, but he still marveled at the superluminal speeds the smaller drones were capable of, many times higher than even the fastest starships. He sat and began running back over the engineering reports even though he had already looked them over thoroughly hours before. With only two hours until their jump point he didn’t feel like moving off the bridge.

“XO to the bridge,” he said into the intercom. They’d be deploying the warp drive and transitioning the ship soon. May as well give Celesta the experience, though it was like a hot knife in his guts to follow Winters’ orders, even if it was what he would have done anyway. “I hope that woman dies a horrible, slow death,” he muttered.

“Sir?” Davis said uncomfortably.

“Oh, it’s nothing, Ensign,” he said quickly. “Just thinking aloud.”

“I see,” she said, seemingly even more disturbed by the explanation as by the comment itself.

Celesta marched onto the bridge and quickly took charge of the situation after Jackson gestured to his seat. Even though it helped that his first watch bridge crew was on duty, he was still duly impressed as she ran down her self-made checklist and was able to smoothly reconfigure the
Blue Jacket
for warp flight. Celesta was so prepared for her task that he didn’t have to utter a syllable, not even a grunt, as she ran the crew through their paces and, without incident, transitioned the destroyer out of the Xi’an system in a blinding flash of light.