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    JamesSavik
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Operation Hammerhead - 14. Pawn to Queen’s 4

Chapter 14 - Pawn to Queen’s 4

 

 

Free Trader Argus

Scorpius Sector

Mason was stunned. He had given up any hope that he would ever see Marion Foster or any of his old friends. It was difficult for him to focus on Beck as he described the mission.

Beck stated, “Jeff, what we plan to do on Parliament is to replicate your actions on Mars at New Vegas and Flynt-Town. The difference that is this time we will be stinking up the Assembly Building and causing a plague of Oberian water frogs into the Reflection Pool out in front of Memorial Gardens.”

Marion said, “After all the years that the politicians have been stinking up the place, are you sure anyone will notice?”

Beck grinned slightly and continued. “The whole of Parliament is under a series of atmosphere domes. Each major structure has its own life support system independent of the city recycling plant in case of an emergency. They connect to the overall grid in a series of underground service tunnels. Those individual systems require periodic maintenance of their filtration and air handling systems. “

As Beck spoke the rest of the crew gathered round. “We will arrive at Parliament Station a little more than 25 hours from now. We will begin offloading our cargo and should be done by late afternoon. Once we are done, three teams will go down to the city and perform their part of the mission.”

Marion took over the narrative. “Jeff, you and I will go down to the city and check into a hotel. Once we are there, we will set up our gear and wait. When the other teams are in play, we will monitor the security channels to make sure they are clear. Once we are done, we do a little shopping, some sightseeing and go back to the ship. On our way out, we’ll leave special coins in the reflecting pool that dissolve and leave our frog eggs.”

Beck prompted, “Kim and Tim?”

One of the pairs of twins spoke up and said, “We offload our cargo and go planet-side. We get a cheap hotel room and go out for a while. The next morning, we go pick up our cargo and equipment at customs. Then we go down into the service tunnels and install the new trace gases containers in the buildings on our list. Then we act like tourists for a while and head back to the ship by 1700.”

Beck said, “How about team three, Frank and Francois?”

A new set of twins built like a pair of heavy cruisers answered, “Our mission is essentially identical to team 2. We act like contract workers, do a little sightseeing, get the job done and get back to Argus on time.”

Beck said, “Team 4?”

Sean said, “Our mission is to perform over-watch for the other three teams. We will provide contingencies in case we have to bug out in a hurry.”

Jeff said, “Wait a minute. Won’t all of these pairs of twins stand out?”

Seth took something that looked like a sack out of his pocket that glittered dark and metallic. Mason immediately recognized it as nano material. As soon as Seth pulled it over his head, it changed his appearance and looked completely natural.

Marion said, “We have numerous tricks up our sleeve. Currently, we’ve all got a lot of work to do, and we need to get to it.”

 

Task Force Hammerhead

Fleet-Wide Conference

Admiral Bassett orders arrived for Lt. Commander Sokolsky to join the morning status briefing early the next morning.

Danny arrived in the conference room a little early and made a brief outline on his computer pad of the topics he wanted to cover. He had been up all night working. The alien's faster than light communications technology had bedeviled the Alliance fleet ever since their arrival.

At precisely 700 hours the fleet's command officers appeared on the monitors on the surrounding walls. Bassett began, “This morning we are going to depart from our usual format. Doctor Sokolsky has made a key discovery since he began reviewing the fleet database of information compiled about our enemy. I want to get this information out to my command staff, so we can be thinking about it. Dr. Sokolsky, please begin.”

Danny glanced at his computer pad and said, “Ever since the enemy arrived, we have had all sorts of indications that they have faster than light communications capability. I think that I’ve figured out how they do it.”

There were gasps around the room and everyone was full alert.

Sokolsky continued, “The way we do it requires large, fixed facilities and the sequential opening of wormholes. It requires a lot of energy and equipment to pull that off. It also makes StarCOMM’s shareholders ridiculous amounts of money.”

Sokolsky touched a key on his computer and brought up a slide that every fleet officer was shown to explain faster than light travel. “The way that we move ships from one point in space over many light years is to punch a hole in space. We do it every time we jump. Have you ever considered why that works?”

There was a murmur among the officers and a lot of shaking heads.

Sokolsky continued, “No one really knows for sure, but there is a theory that when we jump from one point to another, we are making a shortcut through a dimension that some theoretical physicists call subspace. The reason that subspace is so useful to us is that it is dimension-less. None of the bounds that this universe applies there: distance, time - none of it. The only constraint on how far we can jump is the energy available to our jump engines to create a longer wormhole.”

“I am confident that the secret to the alien's FTL communications is subspace. After analyzing petabytes of sensor data collected by Alliance ships over the years, we have been able to assemble a signature of the enemies FTL communications. It appears over and over in the sensor records and often at the damnedest times: like whenever our ships probe their space. The signature is a graviton pulse and a modulated carrier wave at 220 megahertz.”

Admiral Tanaka asked, “Why hasn’t anyone noticed it before?”

Sokolsky replied, “Sensors that can actually see gravitons in action are brand new there are only a few classes of ships that have them: the battle cruisers, fleet carriers and the very newest heavy cruisers. Radio waves at that frequency are filtered out by most signal processing algorithms as naturally occurring noise. We had to overlay sensor data from various ships to figure it out.”

Admiral Stewart asked, “Can we replicate this process and use it?”

Danny replied, “Maybe. We’re going to have to look at some of their captured gear. “

Captain Ballard of the Rodney, the Fleet’s Electronic Warfare expert realized what Sokolsky was driving at and said, “I see it! That’s why our electromagnetic pulse weapons have no effect on them.”

Bassett looked puzzled and asked, “What?”

Sokolsky grinned like the cat who was about to swallow the canary. “Captain Ballard has figured it out. Our enemy is trans-dimensional. Part of their ships exists in subspace.”

Ballard said, “…and we know how to send a big electromagnetic pulse into subspace.”

Bassett smiled and said, “Are you gentlemen saying what I’m thinking?”

Sokolsky answered, “Yes sir. Getting into subspace is easy. We do it all day, every day. All we have to do is to reprogram one of the hyper-space projectors, toss an EMP device into subspace, and we will hurt them badly. We can fry their brains like bacon.”

 

Free Trader Argus

Marion watched quietly as Jeff worked with the various pairs of genetically engineered young soldiers. He stood out physically from them, but he had always been a personable sort. As long as she had known him, Jeff had gotten along well with all the other kids. After all, she had been their babysitter.

It had been a little more than a decade ago. She was several years older than Jeff and most of the other kids; she had been drafted as a babysitter by the families after they had all been arrested for illegal genetic modifications and put in an old apartment block. Their makeshift prison had been abandoned for decades when the prisoners arrived. They had to work on it for weeks to make it habitable again.

As their parents toiled away, Marion led the children through the block removing debris and exploring all the secret ways: passages, sub-basements, air ducts and storage bins. The children’s exploration saved their lives. When the fanatics came for them, they knew where to hide.

They had been so scared, but they had also been brave. She remembered sitting quiet in the pitch dark surrounded by the children as the sounds of the battle raged all around them. Some of their parents were killed. Her own mother and older brother spent a month in the hospital.

It was all she could do not to scream. How could she betray them? Jeff and the others were family, but the Bishop had her daughter. She couldn’t possibly trust a man who wanted them all dead. He promised her the return of her daughter, money, freedom, a new identity and a chance for a new start, but she knew in her heart that it was all lies. It was all balanced on a knife’s edge.

Things were moving so fast now. She had to act soon and decisively, and it would cost her life. She knew that her plan was equal parts desperation and panic, but it was all so much bigger than her. She could not fail. She owed that much to her daughter and the rest of the family that fate had gifted her with.

 

Galactic News Network

The Galaxy’s Most Trusted Source for News

The Parliament Minute

“Good evening, I am Samantha Lake. Welcome to The Parliament Minute for Sunday, May 20.”

“For months there have been rumors that the Ministry of Defense has been assembling a huge fleet with the intention of breaking the five-year-long stalemate in the Rim War. Such a fleet was actually seen assembling in this amateur video shot at Capella Anchorage last month.”

“As you can see, this is a massive fleet - the largest by far of any ever assembled by the Alliance. It is composed of well over a hundred of the Alliance's newest and most advanced ships. With all the carriers, battleships, cruisers, destroyers and embarked marines, our experts put this fleet’s personnel compliment at well over a hundred thousand sailors and marines.”

“Often when you talk to politicians and bureaucrats it is difficult to tell where their agenda ends, and politics, spin and lies begin. This is sadly the case with the Task Force code named Hammerhead.”

“This much is certain: first, Task Force Hammerhead was seen assembling at Capella and departing for the Rim last month. Second - Task Force Hammerhead has not been seen or heard from in weeks.”

“In one version of the story, the Task Force is covertly moving into position to launch a massive, war-winning surprise attack on the planets held by the mysterious aliens on the Cygnus Rim.”

“In another version of the story, the Task Force was ambushed and defeated in detail. The coalition government is not admitting the fiasco for fear that the ruling coalition would either collapse or face a no confidence vote that it would most certainly lose.”

“No one knows for certain the fate of Task Force Hammerhead but our experience with offensives on the Rim is dubious. Our Fleet has done remarkably well in a defensive posture but so far, every offensive action has been defeated or stalled.”

“According to our experts, Task Force Hammerhead has not had time to make it to the war zone much less engage the enemy. The pronouncements of doom sound like wishful thinking on the part of the opposition parties.”

“It is this correspondent’s opinion that the blatant political games being played with this deadly serious war are vile and despicable. So far, it has cost the Alliance dearly in terms of blood and treasure. I can only hope that when the truth comes out, and it will, the voters punish the opportunists and reward those parties and politicians that have acted responsibly in this matter.”

“It would certainly be a welcome first in Alliance politics where the priority seems to be more about partisan bickering than working together to destroy a dangerous invader within our own galaxy that is getting more entrenched and powerful with each passing day.”

“As an avid expansionist, I look forward to getting back to the serious business of exploring and colonization of the galaxy. The economic and cultural stagnation caused by the war and the moratorium on new colonies are not good for the Alliance.”

“We must put aside the fear and get back out there.”

“I’m Samantha Lake for The Parliament Minute. Thanks for watching.”

The views and opinions expressed on this program are not necessarily the views of this network, its management or sponsors. GNN attempts to air as many points of view as possible in the time available.

 

Free Trader Argus

Parliament – high orbit

Argus, this is Parliament Control. Please squawk your transponder and manifest.”

James, the “Captain” and his brother John, the “First Officer” were on the bridge. They were already wearing the nanotech “faces” that they wanted the authorities to see.

James opened a channel and said, “Roger Parliament Control. I am squawking transponder and manifest now.”

There was a short pause and control responded, “Got it Argus. You are third in a pattern of six. Line up on beacon bravo three-one and proceed to dock C. Please have your customs papers ready and be prepared to offload your cargo. Welcome to Parliament.”

Marion rallied the rest of the crew in the number 1 hold. Acting as the cargo master, Marion had all the customs information ready while the rest of the crew were all standing by with power loaders. Ships only had a short time to unload their cargo and over time fees added up fast.

Jeff’s station was on the bridge. For his part as Second Officer, he was manning the engineering station and wearing a face he didn’t recognize. He wasn’t really needed there. The ship was under control of Parliament’s flight control and the next several minutes were completely automated.

Once Argus cleared the rim of the planet, Parliament Station came into view. For a space station, it was huge with dozens of ships docked or in close orbit. It had a rotating torus shape ring around a central core with docking pylons extending above and below. Given the sheer numbers of ships, shuttles and cargo lighters that came into view; it was immediately obvious why the authorities were so strict about traffic control.

As they approached the station, it gleamed bright white in stark contrast to the blackness of space and the dull gray-blues of the planet below. It was brightly lighted showing the large starburst symbol of the Alliance in cobalt blue. Suddenly, several small pods appeared below the station moving down toward the planet.

Jeff said, “They’ve got a space elevator. That must be one hell of a ride.”

John said, “Most of the big, established planets have at least one. Some have several. You rode a cargo tube up from Evergreen when we took you aboard.”

As he looked, the starlight caught the cable just right, and he could see it going down into the planet's billowy atmosphere. It amazed him that nano-fiber cable could extend for so many kilometers into geosynchronous orbit and still support moving hundreds of tons of personnel and cargo many times a day.

An alert chimed and a green light flashed on Jame's console. He commented, “Positive lock with station systems. We’re on autopilot now. Contact in 3 minutes.”

The ship’s thrusters began to fire and began slowing her approach. It was obviously lining up the freighter to dock on one of the station's upper docking pylons.

Jeff was nervous as a cat but James and John were very laid back. John was actually snacking on some kind of crackers.

He had not spent much time with James and John. As they were acting as the flight crew one or both of them were on the bridge at all times. Like the rest of the pairs of engineered twins, they had that weird twin ESP. The way they anticipated each other and seemed to know what each other were thinking without saying a word was uncanny.

Feeling a bit like a third wheel, Mason said, “So what are you two going to do while we’re planet side?”

James said, “Put this baby in a nice parking orbit and get some sleep. We love to fly, but these long hauls are exhausting.”

John said, “We had to fly this mission with a skeleton crew because the rest of the guys are moving our base. When we get back, things will be a lot saner. It’s been crazy since we went operational.”

While Jeff was trying to figure out exactly what that meant, there was a burst of static and the bridge speaker came to life: “Parliament Control to Argus, you’re on profile and riding the beacon. Contact in 2 minutes.”

James keyed his mike and said, “Roger control.”

John looked at his panel and said, “Braking on profile.”

The bridge was silent as the mass of Parliament station loomed larger and larger on their view screens. Jeff could actually see people inside the big observation windows inside the station.

He could actually see the ship's momentum slowing as it approached the station.

The computer spoke over the bridge speakers: “Contact in 5 – 4 – 3 – 2 – 1. Docking latches engaged.”

James and John began powering down or turning a number of systems to stand by. John turned to Jeff and said, “I know it’s your first Op so just take it easy. Marion will be with you the whole way, and she’s a real pro. Just follow her lead and remember your cover. You’ll do fine.”

Jeff said, “Thanks. I just hope there aren’t too many mirrors. I’m still getting used to this face.”

 

Task Force Hammerhead

Saratoga

Sick Bay

Dr. May looked up from her computer and said, “Commander Sokolsky, what can I do for you today?”

Danny sat down in the chair across from her desk and said, “What can you tell me about military cyber links?”

Dr. May sighed and said, “The Marines use them the most. So do many of our pilots. They aren’t without some risks.”

“The technology is safe?”

The Doctor said, “I have to qualify that. Technically, yes. The injection of nanobots that establish the links are safe. Apparently, it works very well. The problems that we have seen with them are mostly psychological.”

Danny said, “Tell me about the problems. I need to know before I make up my mind.”

May asked, “You are considering one?”

Danny nodded. “Well - Tom is getting one and Holloway already has one. They seem to think they are useful. There is just so much that I can do without one. I’m stuck on the enemy force threat assessment. It’s just not adding up. Things are at a critical point and there just aren’t enough hours in the day.”

The Doctor said, “I see. The biggest problem with the cyber-link implants is that some people seem to get lost in there. The Marines and our Aviation people spend a lot of time conditioning their personnel that use cyber-links.”

Danny asked, “Can you turn it on and off at will?”

Dr. May said, “Yes. Most of the problems seem to be a sort of addiction. In rare cases a sort of induced schizophrenia sets in. In most of those cases, it was probably going to happen anyway eventually. In the way of numbers, we only see adverse outcomes in less than 1% of users over five years.”

Danny paused thoughtfully and said, “What do I have to do to get that started?”

“All I have to do is put you on the request list. The XO will see the list first thing in the morning. He usually approves these requests, but he might talk to you about it. The procedure itself is simple. We give you a hypo-injection of the nanobots and a sedative. It takes a few hours for the link to establish itself. I like to do the procedure overnight so by morning you are ready for duty.”

“Put me on the list.”

 

Parliament Station

It only took the crew about twenty minutes to unload Argus. Her cargo bays weren’t completely full and not all of her cargo was bound for Parliament. What little of it that Jeff could see looked like an exquisitely choreographed ballet of steel as power loaders moved the cargo containers onto rails and hustled them onto the station.

Marion was very pleased. A quick turnaround meant that the docking fees would be lower which would always put a smile on the cargo master’s face.

Everyone who was going planet side gathered in the crew airlock just adjacent to the cargo airlock. Jeff couldn’t recognize anyone except Marion and the only reason he could recognize her was her gender.

Jeff said, “Before we go through, who is who?”

Seth’s voice said, “The only thing that matters is who is in your group.”

Jeff said, “Oh.”

Marion moved close beside him and put her arm around him. He had always considered her attractive but as a strawberry blond with green eyes and wearing a gray flight suit, she was a real knockout. She said, “Don’t worry. I’ve got you. Just watch me and remember your cover.”

The status panel on the airlock changed colors from red to yellow and displayed “Cycling”. On that same display, a small clock began counting down at twenty seconds.

Someone asked, “Why so long?”

Marion answered, “Interstellar Commerce Commission regulations: every newly arrived interstellar ship’s air is screened for known pathogens. It took even longer in the cargo bay. It’s iron clad and they never skip it. I trust we’ve all had our shots?”

A few people chuckled. Only the dumbest or unluckiest of virus would tangle with any of their genetically enhanced immune systems.

The airlock cycled, and the big steel door opened into a hallway that had arrows point in the right direction. Jeff and Marion followed the rest of the crew down the hallway and a voice began speaking:

“Welcome to Parliament Station. Please proceed through customs. No plants or animals that have not cleared quarantine are allowed and will be confiscated. To expedite your clearance through customs, have your ID-card ready.”

The recording repeated as they walked down the hall. Jeff quickly saw that the hall was arranged like a spoke that ran out above the cargo bays from the station's core. It ran another 25 meters to a large circular room that featured the big Interstellar Customs and Commerce logo and numerous customs kiosks.

Marion approached the kiosk and swiped her identity card. It was a touch screen display that asked a series of questions. Jeff recognized them as standard. When Marion was finished, he did the same thing. As he was carrying no pets, plants and wasn’t ill, all was well.

He followed Marion to a lift marked, Bean-Stalk and waited for the next car. While they waited for it to arrive, numerous other passengers and crews on liberty began milling around. Jeff caught snippets of conversations about Parliament’s various diversions, restaurants, hotels and other various establishments.

A naval officer spoke to him and said, “That’s an excellent entrance, ensign.”

Jeff was unnerved by the unsolicited conversation and said, “What?”

“You are arriving on the arm of the prettiest girl in the place; well-done mate.” The officer smiled and winked.

Jeff wasn’t sure if the nanomask correctly translated the blush that he was sure was on his real face.

The lift to the Bean-Stalk arrived. It was a large car and easily handled the thirty or so people with room to spare. It went directly from the upper docking pylons, through the heart of the station down to the lower decks where the space elevators were handled.

The trip lasted almost two minutes. A recorded voice advertised special rates for uniformed personnel at several planet-side hotels.

They arrived in the Bean-Stalk Lounge- a large establishment with plenty of booze and food if you wanted it. A display counted down for the arrival of the next pod dirt side. It was over twenty minutes. Marion looked at Jeff and said, “Buy you a drink sailor?”

Copyright © 2013 jamessavik; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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