It was a grippingly cold, blustery, and overcast day at the Fleet Ordnance Proving Grounds. It was the kind of day that makes one want to stay inside in slippers and robe while drinking hot cocoa. John Banks, Chief Test Officer, was just wishing he’d worn a heavier coat. The cold breeze was finding every gap around his neck, waist, and sleeves to crawl inside with him. He was so grateful when the gun was aimed, the target steel plate was in its framework, and he could get back inside the blockhouse.
The damp, slightly dank warmth of the blockhouse felt good after the biting cold outside. He adjusted the final voltage to the Yestepkin Gun and sounded the range siren. He looked around at his various test monitors at their consoles and asked if they were all ready. He got a thumbs-up from each station and fired up his own terminal. As the readouts stabilized, he thought back to how many of these prototype guns, shields, missiles, gadgets, and doodads developed by some talented amateur or backyard scientist he had tested. So few of them amounted to much. Almost none of them lived up to the hyped up sales pitch from their developer.
He did admit that Valeri Yestepkin stayed away from the more grandiose statements made by other weapons developers. In fact, his request for appraisal said only that, “Prototype weapon in accordance with paragraph 1. C. 56. a of block grant 1601.7c is submitted for your review and appraisal.” It was most unusual in its brevity and lack of adjectives.
His terminal was ready, he dialed up the huge amount of necessary power, and he hit the siren button again. The gates around the test range closed and locked. The flashing red warning lights activated. People on nearby ranges put on their goggles and hearing protection. John Banks charged the gun and set it for narrow beam. He paused a moment, to ensure everyone was ready and recording. He hit the fire button, lights dimmed, and a silent, invisible beam of energy reached out and bored an 8 cm diameter hole in the 5 cm thick steel plate.
That was impressive. So far, so good. He activated the trolley system and moved the steel plate over two meters, to offer up a fresh target for the wide beam. He sounded the alarm again, waited for the gun to charge and hit the fire button. As before, the unseen beam of energy reached out and a two-meter circle of steel disappeared, as did a piece of the backing berm.
A technician in the front row exclaimed, “Whoa, is it supposed to do that?”
John Banks wasn’t sure. He called up the grant paperwork and read the section on expected design characteristics. The gun employs radical new technology to disrupt the molecular bond of objects and cause the target to dissipate as a cloud of disaggregated atoms.
He left the blockhouse and approached the target steel. The holes made at narrow and wide beam were equally smooth and cool to the touch. He could smell a slight acrid odor as the wind shifted around. He walked around back of the target frame and inspected the berm. The two-meter diameter circle continued behind the target to a depth of one meter. In the center of the bigger circle was a smaller circle. John squatted down and could see daylight on the other end.
Sudden realization hit him like a bucket of icy water poured down his back. In a panic, he scrambled over the berm to see what damage had been wreaked on the other side. Fortunately, the adjacent range was not in use. He walked down that range to its blockhouse and saw the hole in its forward face, but it only went in 8 centimeters.
He trudged back to his range, climbed over the berm, and called his supervisor.
“Boss, I think we have a game changer weapon here. Oh, and we’ll need some repairs to ranges six and seventeen.”
Shadow Leader J’Kraul was called unexpectedly before the K’Rang Elders. He barely had time to change into his formal uniform, after returning hurriedly from the range where he had been qualifying on a new pistol. He was still adjusting the hang of his cape, and handing over his weapons to the Imperial Guards, when he was instructed to enter. The three elders on their high bench viewed him dispassionately as he marched to the traditional spot four paces from the bench, halted, and saluted.
J’Kraul calmed his racing heart as best he could and addressed the Elders. “Excellencies, I am Shadow Leader J’Kraul reporting as ordered. How may I serve the Empire?”
The middle Elder spoke. “Shadow Leader, we wish a report on your efforts to acquire information on the Humans’ ability to rapidly shift large forces within their space. I know we asked for the report three weeks hence, during the last time you were before us, but the true extent of our defeat at G’Dranu moves us to an increased level of concern.”
J’Kraul came to stiffer attention and spoke. “Excellencies, our agents within Human space have confirmed that the Humans have developed a teleportation gate capable of transporting their largest ships vast distances to another gate almost instantaneously.”
“When we attacked the Humans at G’Dranu, they had only a prototype pair of rings. They moved one of the rings to their sector adjacent to G’Dranu and pushed through a massive force. Our fleet did not have a chance. The Human force was more than six times the size of our invasion force, and even outmatched our additional task forces sent to reinforce.”
“We have made gathering information on these rings our number one collection priority. We have gained an immense amount of data on the system, but nothing that will allow understanding how it works or to help us build our own. That information is being guarded like nothing we have ever experienced before.”
“The technical information on the system’s operation exists within a small research community that is highly secured and operates on a compartmentalized basis. Only a few people know how all the components work together. We are attempting to determine who these individuals are and if there are any others that may have access to this information. There is almost always a research assistant or administrative assistant that has access to the data because of sloppy security or a personal relationship with one of the researchers.”
“Once we locate one of these peripheral individuals, we will induce this individual to allow us access to the operational data. We have even considered abducting the lead researchers and bringing them to our theoretical physics research institute on T’Pifa, but feel that would result in open war with the Humans. In our weakened state and with their transporter capability, we calculate the cost would be much greater than the gain.”
The left Elder said, “We concur, Shadow Leader. This will require traditional, classical espionage to be successful. The Humans must not know we possess their technology, until we are prepared to deploy it in operationally significant numbers. If they suspect we are building this system, it may precipitate a war we are unprepared to fight. Keep us informed of your progress. Thank you, Shadow Leader.”
Having been dismissed, J’Kraul bowed, saluted, and backed out of their presence. He met his aide, who had retrieved his weapons from the stoic Imperial Guards. The aide passed his weapons back to him and they walked in silence until they passed out of the guards’ earshot.
J’Kraul said softly to his aide, “Have H’Topa come to me first thing tomorrow morning.”
Kelly Blake, the new captain of the Galactic Republic Ship Vigilant, was the youngest Captain in the Fleet. Having been recently promoted to Lieutenant, he was frocked to Lieutenant Commander and assumed command of the Scout Ship Vigilant. Frocking was an ancient tradition, in which a junior officer was allowed to wear the next higher rank in order to assume a position requiring that rank. It was generally used when there were more positions than officers of the right rank or qualifications to fill them. In Kelly’s case, it was based on merit. Kelly would have almost all the privileges and responsibilities of a Lieutenant Commander, but would still be paid as a Lieutenant.
Kelly may have had the honor of being captain, but he also had the headaches. The Vigilant sat on the Scout Force parking apron of Fleet Base 17, otherwise known as Antares Base, preparing for his first training cruise as captain. Kelly was up to his ears in paperwork. He, LCDR Timmons (his former captain), and Chief Watson (the former senior chief of the Vigilant) all were promoted within a month of each other and moved up the chain of command. Commander Edgar Timmons left the Vigilant to become Commanding Officer of the new 21st Scout Squadron. That made him Kelly’s boss again. He liked Commander Timmons, but wished he hadn’t taken Master Chief Watson with him. Kelly moved Senior Chief Blankenship up from Sensors to be the Chief of the Ship, on Chief Watson’s strong recommendation and his personal experience.
She was doing well adapting to her new job, but Kelly was left with no executive officer. That meant Kelly dealt personally with the paperwork required to man, operate and stock the ship. The Admiral had promised Kelly his pick of any of the junior officers on Fleet Base 17, but the process was not going well.
He had conducted over half a dozen interviews and none of the officers had been right. The XO was the only other officer on the Vigilant and Kelly wanted someone he could trust with his command. Kelly had plowed through more personnel records and was ready for three interviews that morning.
The first two interviews were repeats of the previous six. The officers presented themselves well, had good records, gave all the right answers, but just weren’t right. Kelly was getting discouraged. He knew that if he didn’t find someone soon, the Admiral or CMDR Timmons would pick one for him. He waited for his last interview of the morning to arrive.
Lieutenant Junior Grade Consuela Cortez showed up late. Kelly was filling the time working through the requisitions for his upcoming training cruise. His Chiefs did a good job of preparing the requisitions for his approval, but they tended to think only of their own departments, not of the entire ship. It was Kelly’s job to sort through the wish lists and balance the requests against practicality and the ship’s budget.
There was a knock on his cabin door and Kelly said to enter. It was Chief Blankenship.
“Sir, LTJG Cortez is here to see you.”
Kelly turned away from the desk terminal and said, “Show her in, Chief.”
Kelly got up as LTJG Consuela Cortez entered his cabin and moved over to shake her hand. LTJG Cortez had an easy smile and a firm grip. She was just slightly shorter than Kelly, had short black hair, brown eyes, olive skin, and a slender build. She was in her duty uniform, not her dress uniform, as all the other candidates had worn. It fit her well.
When she saw Kelly looking at her uniform, she said, “Excuse my uniform, sir. I had to go into work this morning and sort out some problems. I was just released a few minutes ago.”
Unconcerned with her uniform, Kelly replied, “Where do you work, LT Cortez? But first, how do you prefer to be addressed?”
“Please call me Connie, sir. I work for the Base Repair and Refit Directorate. It was my crew that engineered the new electron guns that hide your engine exhaust plume. That was a good catch, sir. If the K’Rang exhaust homing torpedoes had hit our fleet unaware, we would have lost a lot of ships. I want to thank you, by the way. I got a commendation for the engineering design.”
Kelly remembered when they first came up against a K’Rang Torpedo Ship. One of the homing torpedoes had picked them out of the clutter of an asteroid field and almost took them out. It was only the Vigilant’s superior speed that kept disaster at bay. The Vigilant’s subsequent investigation determined that the torpedo homed in on the ion trail from the ship’s engines. Their recommendations for masking the ion plume had been retrofitted throughout the fleet and had saved several ships during the recent New Alexandria Campaign against the K’Rang.
Kelly picked up his pocket terminal and reviewed Connie’s record. She graduated from the Fleet Academy two years ago and had been with the Repair and Refit Directorate since. Her degree had been in shipbuilding and her fitness reports showed she excelled at her job.
“Tell me, Connie, why do you want to transfer from engineering to command?”
She paused slightly and said, “Well, sir, I want to get out into space, and command is the fastest way to get me there. I’ve been making a lot of runs up to Antares Station to work on ships and send them on their way. I can hear space calling to me.”
Connie, momentarily distracted, looked over Kelly’s shoulder and said, “Pardon me, sir, but I see you have requisitions on the screen behind you. You aren’t using the latest format. That will slow down your requisitions because they have to be re-entered once they get to the Repair and Refit Directorate. Those will go to the bottom of the pile. Here, I have a data device with the latest forms and a translator program that will convert your data to the new forms.” She showed Kelly a small data transfer device.
“If you’ll permit me, I can do that for you in a flash.”
Kelly moved out of the way. Connie sat down at Kelly’s terminal and had the requisitions reformatted in five minutes.
“Sir, I notice that your Chiefs have duplicate items on some of these requisitions. Would you like me to cross-level these and get rid of the duplication?”
Kelly was amazed. LTJG Cortez had just done in five minutes what would have taken him a good portion of the morning to do.
“By all means, LT, go ahead.”
She called up all the requisitions, combined them on one form, and highlighted all the duplications and high cost items.
“Here you go, sir, this should make it easier to sort through these and determine where you want to apply your resources. If you want, I can leave this data device with you or load it on your system. I’ve been hounding the Directorate Chief to call in all the unit supply officers and go over the new forms. It would save everyone, but he doesn’t see this as his problem to solve.”
Kelly realized he had just found his XO.
“LT Cortez, you’re hired. You’ll have to interview with CMDR Timmons, my Squadron Commander and with Admiral Craddock, the Commander of Scout Force, but I’m going to recommend you for the position as my XO. I don’t think you’ll have any problems, but Scout Force is a small organization and the Admiral likes to meet all of his officers before he approves their assignments. Come on. Let me walk you around and give you a tour of the ship.”
Kelly led a smiling LTJG Cortez out of his cabin into the aft part of the bridge. “This is the bridge. As you can see, the Vigilant still has glass ports. It’s one of the things I like most about her. I came here from flying fighters in a carrier task force and I like to have a direct view of my surroundings not interpreted by a computer. Even as smart as computers are, I want them supplementing my senses, not replacing them.”
“There are three banks of positions here on the bridge. The lowest two positions are for the helmsman and navigator, and the next level up are engineering, sensors, and weapons. The three positions on this highest level are the command positions. The Captain is in the center, the Chief of the Ship is to port, and the XO is to starboard. The tiered seating gives all positions a clear view ahead, above, and to the sides. The three command positions are multi-functional. Any or all of the other five functions can be controlled by any or all of these three terminals. In an emergency, one person can run and fight the entire ship.”
“The Vigilant’s main mission is to find the enemy for the Fleet and never lose contact. Stealth and our sensor suite are our main weapons. We only use our armament to protect ourselves or Galactic Republic citizens. If we have to, we have a pretty good sting. There are three twin particle beam turrets arrayed around the hull. We have three new fixed heavy caliber rail guns forward. In the stern we have three medium caliber rail guns faired into the engine nacelles. Anybody trying to fly up our exhaust, where our turrets can’t reach, has a surprise coming. We also have a cargo hold on our top dorsal fin that can mount a launcher for 20 missiles. They give us quite a punch.”
“Sir, that seems like an awful lot of firepower for a scout ship.”
“We don’t use weapons much in our work, but when we need them I want as many as I can carry. We had a direct combat role in the New Alexandria Campaign. The Vigilant alone destroyed a K’Rang command ship, four battle cruisers, four missile cruisers, four destroyers, seven frigates, and an armed support ship. We damaged a destroyer, two frigates, and another armed support ship before we were through.”
She marveled goggle-eyed, “You did all that with this one ship?”
“Yes, but those four ships we only damaged almost finished us off. If another scout ship hadn’t come along at precisely the right moment, we’d be floating bits of debris in K’Rang space right now.”
Kelly walked across the bridge and opened a door. “This is the XO’s cabin. As soon as the Admiral approves, you can move right in. You’ll be expected to live onboard. It has a berth, desk with terminal, pretty good storage, a private head with shower, and an upper berth that can be folded down from the wall if we embark passengers or specialists. I don’t know how this will compare to your quarters on base, but I found it quite spacious, compared to my shared four-man cabin on a carrier.”
“We have a crew of 48 — two officers, six chiefs, and 40 lower ranks. The ship is divided into five sections. There is the bridge section, gunnery section, sensor section, engineering section, and mess section, with a chief in charge of each section. They manage their sections and assign their people to watches and other duties. The Chief of the Ship, Senior Chief Petty Officer Barbara Blankenship, is an eighteen-year Fleet veteran. She’s new to the job, having been the sensor chief until Chief Watson left us and I moved her up. She’s getting used to the job and should be fully acclimatized by the time we leave for our first training cruise in a few days.”
“Aft of the CO’s and XO’s cabins are the six chiefs’ cabins. Chief B’s cabin is configured like mine, with a small conference room attached. The rest of the chiefs’ cabins are like the XO’s, only slightly smaller. Aft of Chiefs’ country is weapons. This is where all the guns are controlled. These three positions are for the three turrets. I’ll get Chief Tony Pennypacker to run you through some training simulations, so you can get a feel for it. This position is for the forward and aft fixed guns. This next position controls the missile launcher or special weapons pods, when installed. Next aft is the sensor section. Petty Officer First Class Yiao Chang is filling in as Sensor Chief until Chief B’s replacement arrives next week. Chief Josiah Johnson from the Fleet sensor school will be filling that position. We have the normal collection of spectral receivers, magnetic anomaly detectors, infrared sensors, electro-optical sensors, electromagnetic spectrum sensors, chemical sniffers, and also the mass optical array, which lines the hull of the ship. It gives us a real advantage out in dark space where, sometimes, the only indication of another ship is when it passes in front of a star.”
“Next is the galley. Chief Culinary Specialist Bill Austin runs it. They just changed his rating’s name and I still haven’t gotten used to it. ‘Cookie’ can work miracles with patrol rations. In accordance with base regs, we don’t run the galley in port. Cookie does keep enough capability for coffee, tea, and occasional snacks. He can cheat some on the base regs, because we have a replicator installed and he has to train his cooks on it. If you haven’t tasted food from a replicator, you are in for a real treat. As long as there is a menu entry for the item, it can be replicated. Cookie has been working on some non-standard menu items. He is almost to the point that if you can describe it, he can replicate it. Come on, I’ll introduce you to Chief Miller, he runs the engine room.”
They proceeded further aft down the central corridor, past crews’ quarters and storage bays, to an iris door that opened as they approached. Chief Miller met them at the door of what had to be the cleanest area on the ship. It practically gleamed.
“Good morning, Captain, what can I do for you?”
“LT Connie Cortez, this is Chief Machinist’s Mate Glenn Miller. Chief, this is LT Cortez. If the Admiral approves, she will joining us as our new XO.”
Chief Miller wiped his hands on a rag and extended his hand to LT Cortez. Chief Miller was always wiping his dirty hands off on a rag, but no one could ever figure out how he was getting them dirty in such an immaculate space.
“I’m glad to meet you, ma’am.”
“I’m glad to meet you too, Chief. How do you like the new Diomede engines?”
Chief Miller was impressed with LT Cortez at that point. Any junior officer that knew what type of engines had been fitted into his ship was a step up in his rating.
“I like them just fine, ma’am. We tuned them up on our shake down cruise and are able to get her to FTL Power 5.89. Any faster than that and the engine synchronizer can’t keep up. We’d wind up corkscrewing or worse.”
“One of the techs in my section has been working on that very problem. I’ll see if I can get her data and pass that to you. Better yet, I’ll have her come by to see you. She thinks she can get FTL Power 6+ out of three diomede engines like you have.”
“Chief Miller whistled slowly, “Ma’am, that would be sweet. I’ll be looking forward to her visit.”
Kelly thanked the Chief and moved back forward. “If you didn’t know it, you just scored major points with Chief Miller, our resident curmudgeon. With only two officers on board, the XO fills in as engineering officer. I think the two of you will get along fine — at least you will until the first time you enter engineering with a coffee cup. Chief Miller is a little protective of his space. He won’t stop you from coming in, just don’t spill any coffee on his deck or I’ll never hear the end of it.”
“Now, who have I left out? Oh yeah, our Corpsman is Petty Officer First Class Rajna Kumar. Sickbay is here to port, just forward of the port stores locker. He can diagnose most anything and provide most treatment just short of organ transplants. Petty Officer Benitez is our Yeoman. Chief Billings is on leave right now, but he is our quartermaster and runs the bridge crew. That completes the 50-credit tour. Let me walk you to the quarterdeck.”
Kelly wished her good luck and saw LTJG Cortez on her way. When he returned to his cabin, he called his boss, CDR Timmons, and Captain Hasselrode, Admiral Craddock’s executive officer, to let them know he had a recommendation for XO and to set up appointments for LT Cortez.
Kelly was relieved that he had finally found someone that he could trust with his ship and crew. He could see she had a lot to learn, but so did he when he first came aboard. He would have to retrain her from the bad lessons she probably learned in the R amp;R Directorate. Here there would be no decisions by committee. There would be no inspector leaning over her shoulder reviewing her work for accuracy and completeness. She would have to be able to make correct decisions on the fly that affected all on board. Not that Kelly worried about such things, but his command and career would ride on her decisions. Chief B would have to do what all chiefs did, train a new officer in her duties. She and Kelly had their work cut out for them.
Commander Edgar Timmons looked at his patrol schedule after he closed the communication with Kelly Blake. There was a hole in the schedule, waiting for the Vigilant to be ready for patrol. He would have to send the next ship in from patrol back out on an expedited turnaround to meet his taskings if Kelly couldn’t get his ship ready. He had faith that his old XO would get the job done.
He called Captain Hasselrode and they scheduled LTJG Cortez’s office call with the Admiral; Edgar scheduled her office call with him for just before. He would escort LTJG Cortez up to the Command Group, to ensure she got there on time and knew where to go. He put both appointments on his calendar and informed Kelly and LTJG Cortez.
Edgar looked around his office and missed the Vigilant. As captain, he was master of his fate and out among the stars. As squadron commander, he sat behind a desk and watched other men go out where the stars are few and far between. He couldn’t really even accompany one of his ships on more than a brief one day inspection cruise, due to the lack of guest quarters for senior ranks on a Valiant-class scout ship.
Edgar looked up and saw Master Chief Watson standing in the door with the coffee pot in his hand.
“Excuse me, sir, but I know just what you’re thinking. It’s the same thing I’m thinking. Why on Armstrong did I take this promotion and give up my ship?”
Edgar let out a hearty laugh and said, “Is it that obvious, Chief?”
Oh, yes, sir, it’s that obvious, because I see the same look in my eyes when I look in the mirror each morning. I have the answer to the question, though.”
“What is that, Chief, but I think I can guess?”
“We’re here to pass on our knowledge and experience to a new crop of ship’s captains, so hopefully they won’t make the same mistakes we made.”
“Yes, Chief, so they can go out and make new ones. Now are you going to share that coffee or just keep your hand warm with it?”
Laughing, Chief Watson walked over and filled Edgar’s cup.
“Did I hear that LCDR Blake has selected an XO?”
“Yes, he chose LTJG Connie Cortez from the Repair and Refit Directorate.”
“I read something about her in the base notices. She got a commendation for the ion gun redesign we recommended after our run in with that K’Rang torpedo ship. I’ll pull her record for you.”
Chief Watson left and Edgar reflected on what he said. Of course that was why he was squadron commander, but he still wished he could get out in space and have some fun sometimes.
In an inside office in a non-descript office building in a northern suburb of the capital city on the K’Rang home world sat Shadow Lead Agent H’Topa. He perused recruitment reports forwarded to him by his senior source within the Galactic Republic. This was a fruitful source and one he had developed from an initial recruitment report from his former senior source.
H’Topa had worked this source carefully from the start to one of great worth. This source was good at identifying prospects early in their career, but with the right future potential. This was good for H’Topa because he was patient. Haste was not a good quality for an agent handler. The Humans had a saying, “The race does not always go to the swift.” H’Topa believed this.
The case folders before him contained intimate details on prospective sources. He knew their wants, their needs, and their aspirations. He had a knack for finding those unwilling to wait or needing an edge to get ahead. Occasionally he found one that just needed credits, or love, or sex, or commitment to a cause. He could use them all, although he stayed away from those that needed chemical stimulants.
His network was extensive and secure. He had a Human support network of credits handlers, dead drop servicers, transporters, enforcers, and other specialties when he needed them. They helped him service his agents.
Credits handlers ensured payments got to the right people on schedule. Dead drop servicers passed messages, credits, and equipment to agents and picked up messages and bulky items from agents, all with no physical contact between them. Transporters were his mules and moved packages to or from dead drop specialists. They were the only Humans to make contact with the K’Rang, but even they passed packages through multiple cutouts. Enforcers took care of sources that got greedy or who talked to Human security forces, or ones that just got sloppy.
Human remorse was one of H’Topa’s greatest impediments to greater success. Too many times, he spent resources on a source, only to have it run crying to security, commit suicide, or lose itself to gambling, chemical stimulants, or sex. If he ever found a drug that eliminated Human remorse, there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.
Of course, this would be oh so much easier if he could freely travel in Galactic Republic space. For years, he had urged establishing diplomatic relations with the Humans, but he was always shouted down by the reactionary element within the military. No matter how much value he could show them to having an embassy and consulates with full intelligence staffs, they were just too xenophobic to hear him out. H’Topa suspected they did not want the Humans to see just how weak the K’Rang Empire was in relation to the Galactic Republic. “Our 56 worlds are a fraction of the 150+ Human settled worlds. Perhaps if we spent a little less credits and time on ill-conceived military adventures and more on settlements, we could match the Humans,” he thought in irritation.
Fleet Reporting Officer Alistair Bennett placed his ship in geosynchronous orbit around Shepard and linked into the planetary communications system. He let his computers download the planet’s data buffer containing the last year of data and voice signals to process, and took a nap. In an hour, he had a list of suspicious communications for further study. He discounted a dozen on the list as normal criminal or immoral activity and no concern of his. Two were overly secretive lovers planning and coordinating affairs. Seven were shady business dealings, more of interest to securities regulators than him. The remaining two were possible covert communications to authorities in the K’Rang Empire. Alistair followed up on these.
Both communications sets were similar in that they contained hidden data. One set contained hidden video files in a cooking recipe email. The other contained hidden instructions on placing and receiving something from a dead drop. Alistair had his first clue toward dismantling the cell or cells. Now he searched the data for links from the recipients to others. Pretty soon, he found he had nothing. He had never seen a cell with such tight security.
Alistair ran down the specifics on the recipients. He got their names, photos, addresses, aliases, and all sites that they frequented regularly. He looked for similar interests, friends, and activities, then cross-referenced their known IP numbers against other aliases and email addresses — and found the common link.
Shadow Lead Agent H’Topa reported promptly to Shadow Leader J’Kraul as ordered. The Shadow Leader kept his attention on what he was working as H’Topa patiently stood at attention before his desk. It was a standard trick to put your visitor off balance. H’Topa and J’Kraul had attended many of the same espionage training courses together and knew all the techniques. It did not work on H’Topa.
Unimpressed, he asked in a strong voice, “Was what you called me here for of importance, Shadow Leader, or should I come back later?”
J’Kraul started laughing. “No, my friend, sit down, relax. I wanted to make sure time had not softened you. I have a top priority assignment for you from the Elders. They want the transporter ring technology from the Humans, but don’t want the Humans to know we have it. What can your network do to get it for us?”
H’Topa took a moment to stretch. “Your information exists in five places in the Human space. It exists in the minds of Andrew and Moira Blake. It exists in their notes locked in a triple-sealed safe in their high security lab on the planet they call Gagarin. The notes are in their own coded language that only they speak. It exists in a triple-sealed safe in their Fleet HQ on their main world, Earth, and the production design exists in three parts in three safes at the manufacturing facility on their main world Shepard. No one has access to all three safes.”
“The factory is the easiest to access. I have two agents working there, but they have yet to gain access to any of the three data sets. The humans jealously guard this data. Whoever their security chief is, he is good.”
“One of my agents asked about all the security and was told that even if the K’Rang got hold of the manufacturing design sheets they wouldn’t be able to make them work, because each ring has excess components. There is a code unique to each ring that tells it which components to activate. If it doesn’t activate in the right sequence, it shuts down until a special restart code is entered. That code has to come from a special office in their defense HQ and be entered by hand.”
“As you can see, I am on top of the situation. I just haven’t found a way to break through their security. I do have a prospect. It is one of the Blake’s research assistants that helped them develop the prototype ring they used against us at G’Dranu. I have been suggesting to him that he didn’t get sufficient credit for the work he did helping them develop it. It seems he unwisely left their employ, planning to start his own research establishment, just before the government bestowed large bonuses and recognition on the research staff and the Blakes. The Blakes insisted he be rewarded, but the bureaucrats said no. I’m twisting that knife slowly for maximum effect. I judge that he may favorably consider an offer to work for us if he feels slighted enough.”
J’Kraul quietly said, “I hope, for both our sakes, that you are correct.”
Kelly’s terminal in his cabin chimed to let him know he had an incoming message. He keyed up his terminal and Commander Timmons’ face appeared.
“Kelly, I just heard back from Hasselrode. The Admiral has approved Connie’s assignment as your XO. She has some things to close out at R amp;R before she can report in. One of those is the engine tweak up to FTL Power 6. She told the Admiral about that and he wants her to see if she can make that happen before she reports in. R amp;R has better computers to work out the algorithms. The Admiral suggests you postpone your training cruise until the engine modifications can be made. He left it up to your judgment, though.”
“I can hold off, boss. I didn’t want to do the training cruise without an XO anyway.”
“Good! Why don’t you come join me for dinner at the club tonight? Somebody is visiting me and wants to see you. Meet me at 1930 in the main dining room. Your old Flight Leader is in town. Janey wants to help you wet down your new rank.”
“Janey’s in town!? Great! I’ll be there. The drinks are on me.”
Commander Timmons signed off. Kelly thought things were really going his way: First, he finds out his choice for XO was approved. Next, he gets news his ship will be one of the fastest ships in space. Then he gets to have dinner with Janey Willis, his old flight leader from when he was in Fighter Force on the Carrier Bolivar. Life was good.
At times Kelly couldn’t believe his luck. Just under two years ago he had been drummed out of Fighter Force for stepping on the toes of a senior Fighter Force General Officer, Major General Irina Bugarov. She had a penchant for disposing of good officers, an infamous legend throughout the Fleet. Kelly had managed to be in the right place at the right time to expose one of her serious tactical errors and save the Fleet Carrier Simon Bolivar from a K’Rang sneak attack.
She beached him on Fleet Base 17, expecting him to spend the rest of his time in the service overseeing toilet repair requests. Things didn’t work out as the General planned, because Kelly came to the attention of Admiral Craddock, Commander of Scout Force. He took Kelly on as XO of the Vigilant and gave him his second chance.
He flourished under the tutelage of Commander Timmons, so well that he succeeded Timmons in command of the Vigilant. Life was definitely good.
Now that he didn’t have a training cruise to plan, he realized that he had a free weekend. He called in Chief Blankenship to tell her to stand down the crew.
Chief Blankenship, a slender brunette with a no-nonsense air about her, came into his cabin after knocking. “Was there something you wanted to see me about, sir?”
“Yes, Chief, stand down the crew for the weekend. Admiral Craddock has approved LTJG Cortez as our new XO. She’s going to be working with Chief Miller on some engine enhancements to get us up to FTL Power 6 as she closes out her job with R amp;R. We might as well give the crew some time off. Finish out whatever they are working on and set up the quarterdeck watch for the weekend. Keep everybody on the base or nearby. No passes to the southern hemisphere this weekend. Tell Chief Miller to expect to hear from LT Cortez on Monday. ”
“Aye aye, sir. Sir, do you have a minute?”
“Sure, Chief, what do you need?
“How am I doing, sir?
Kelly paused for a bit before responding. “Chief, you’re doing fine. You came into your job highly recommended by Commander Timmons, Chief Watson, and myself. ”
“Thank you, sir. Things have been sort of hectic lately and I wasn’t sure how I was doing. I just wanted a bearing check.”
“Smiling, he said, “Trust me, Chief. I’m not shy. If you screw up, I’ll let you know. Besides, things will get smoother once we get an XO in here and we can parse out some of the duties to her. Did you get a chance to talk to her?”
“A little bit when she reported in for the interview. She was a little nervous about being late, but seemed like she had her stuff together. One thing, sir. Most junior officers coming on board a strange ship are usually either a little uncomfortable or wide-eyed. She was neither. She walked on board like she had been here all her life. Maybe it’s because of her experience in the R amp;R Directorate and constantly visiting ships her people are working on, but she fit.”
“Thank you, Chief. I’ll be in the area all weekend. I’ll have my communicator with me if you need to get in touch. Have a nice weekend.”
Chief B left and Kelly went back to his terminal. He had some paperwork to finish before he could start his own weekend.
After approving seven junior promotions, appointing various Chiefs to extra duties and verifying the small arms inventory, he was ready to get back to sorting out the requisitions he had been working on before LT Cortez’s interview. He called up the new forms that she had compiled for him and had to admit that the way she formatted them made them much easier to sort through and decide.
He turned down a request from Chief Miller for an additional spare engine equalizer. Two were more than sufficient. He approved Cookie’s request for additional rations for the training cruise. He did adjust the priority down now that they were not going out for two weeks. He sorted out the remaining requisitions, approved the majority of them, sent notes to the various Chiefs on the items he didn’t approve, and sent it on its way into the system. He was done.
He had several messages in his queue. He sorted through all the administrivia first and forwarded them as appropriate. Next came the Captains’ Notices. He read through them and wondered why anyone thought some were important enough to bother the captains. Most had to do with infractions of base regulations that should have never risen to the level of a Chief, much less a ship’s captain. Some of them dealt with changes to procedures or regulations. He quickly sorted through and disposed of them.
Kelly wished he had someone that could sort through these minor items. Unfortunately, confidential secretaries were not authorized. He thought about having Yeoman Benitez sort through them, but some things he didn’t want getting out to the crew. While most messages weren’t sensitive, sometimes the messages were close-hold and Captains’ Eyes Only. This was just a task he couldn’t delegate or could he. Then Kelly realized he had forgotten someone or something-he had forgotten about Wanda.
Wanda was the artificial intelligence that had been issued to him when he flew single seat fighters. It was designed to handle some of the minor tasks for the pilot so they could concentrate on flying. Kelly had customized his to have the persona of a slightly older woman, a sort of cyber older sister. He had only loaded her on his terminal as XO, but he could do more with her now that he was the captain.
He called her up on his terminal and authorized her access to all ship’s system and all his files and messages.
A voice came from his terminal. “Good afternoon, Kelly, or should I say Captain? I was beginning to wonder if you had abandoned me.”
“Good afternoon, Wanda, I’ve been a little busy lately, as you should know.”
“Yes, Kelly, I have been working in the background monitoring events. Congratulations on your promotion and command. This ship is much bigger than your F-53 fighter. What can I do for you?”
“Wanda, I have authorized you access to all systems and my messages. I would like you to monitor my messages, prioritize them, and process them as I instruct you. There are a number of messages that come in that I want automatically forwarded to the appropriate section Chief, others I want brought to my immediate attention, and others I never want to see. We will work together to sort through the different categories.”
“I understand, Kelly. You do seem to get a lot of messages that could be handled at a much lower level. Would you like me to sort through the messages and provide you with my assessment now?”
“No, Wanda, I’m just going to review my personal messages now. I need a break.”
Kelly called up his personal message queue and saw a message from Candy Craddock. It reminded him that he still had not visited her at her new house in the mountains and her invitation was still good.
Candy was Admiral Craddock’s daughter and one of Kelly’s closest friends. Kelly and she had hit it off from their first meeting, and her dad seemed to approve. She was a civilian lawyer in the base Judge Advocate General’s or JAG’s office, and had recently completed a new house in the mountains several kilometers from base. He had seen her last at his promotion and assumption of command ceremony, where she and his two other close female friends had met and bonded. She had promised him a housewarming party for the four of them as soon as he could find the time. He called her at her office and she picked right up.
“Hey stranger, long time no see. What’s up?”
“Well, I was wondering if you had plans for this weekend. I suddenly find myself with some free time on my hands.”
“As a matter of fact, I do have plans for this weekend. Angie is flying in on Tammy’s shuttle this afternoon and all three of us are going to spend the weekend at my place. Want to come along?”
Kelly couldn’t believe his luck. Kelly had been Angie Shappelle’s wingman on the Bolivar. She had gotten quite chummy with him, now that they were not flying together. Tammy Nielsen was one of the first people Kelly met on Antares Base. She flew the interplanetary shuttle between Antares and Tau Ceti, using the transporter gates that Kelly’s parents had invented. Angie’s squadron, the Fighting 68th, was stationed on Gagarin in Tau Ceti sector. Who could ask for more than a weekend with three beautiful women?
“Candy, I’d love to come over. Should I check out a flitter or will we all fit in your aircar?”
“I think we’ll all fit. As you know, there aren’t a lot of clothes required at my house, so luggage taking up space is not an issue. Why don’t you come over to my office at 1730? We’ll go pick up Angie and Tammy at the terminal and head out to my place.”
“I’ve already agreed to have dinner with Commander Timmons at the Club tonight at 1930. He’s got Janey Willis visiting, and she wants to congratulate me on my new rank and position. Why don’t we all meet for dinner at the club? I know Angie and Tammy will be hungry. I’m buying.”
“Okay, do you want us all to meet at the club or can you come over here to be with me when I pick them up?”
“I’ll come over at about 1800. I still have some things to close out here. The shuttle isn’t due in until 1830 anyway.”
“Great, I’ll expect you at 1800 them. See you then. My boss is here. I have to go, bye.”
Kelly stood up, stretched, and threw a few things into a small bag for the weekend. As Candy said, there weren’t a lot of clothes required at her house.