Operation Hammerhead - 6. R & R

Before departing the Burke, Schmit and Harrison received a message from the local office of Argo Transit. It requested that they with to have a 1:00 meeting with the director of the branch office and included reservations at one of Capella Station’s nicer hotels.

The Imperial Palace sat in the heart of the cities business district and catered to a mixed clientèle of ranking military officers and an assortment of civilian contractors and workers. Schmit and Harrison were pleased to discover that the company had already picked up the bill for a suite on the 11^th floor.

Within a few minutes they were ushered into the common room of three room suite. Schmit took the room on the right and Harrison took the room on the left.

They both unpacked and spent some time relaxing, catching up on the news and correspondence from family and friends spread out across the light-years of Alliance space. Harrison found out that his sister Cathy was pregnant again and his old shipmate Skip Taggert had gotten a command. Schmit got a confirmation on the bonuses from their last trip from Argo and sent his wife a letter to arrive on her birthday.

They had been settling in for a little over an hour when there was a knock on their door. Harrison answered the door to find a uniformed officer from Fleet Intelligence with a compu-pad under his arm and displaying his credentials.

“Commander Harrison? I’m Colonel Gorman of Fleet Intelligence. Could I talk to you and Captain Schmit for a few minutes?”

Harrison, a little shaken by finding a Fleet spook on his doorstep, paused for a beat and said, “Please, come in Colonel. We’ve only just arrived. I’ll see if Captain Schmit can join us.”

Harrison knocked on Captain Schmit’s door. He came out of his room in civilian attire wearing reading glasses with a book under his arm. He regarded the Colonel carefully and asked, “Well now, what can we do for Fleet Intelligence today?”

Colonel Gorman said, “May we sit?”

Schmit replied, “Of course.”

“As I’m sure that you are aware, the Alliance Fleet is gearing up for a major operation which you and your crew are going to be an important part of. My office was assigned to do a background checks on the civilian crews involved in the operation.”

Schmit chuckled, “I think that I know them all well enough to assure you that we don’t have any spies for the tin cans aboard. They are all flesh and blood humans.”

Gorman nodded. “That’s true. From all appearances, you have a better crew than most. Some a bit, shall we say colorful, but none of them appear to be a serious security problem.”

Harrison asked, “Is that it? We pass muster?”

Gorman said, “Of course. I do have a few questions. How well do you know your navigator? What kind of an officer is he?”

Schmit answered decisively, “Danny? We’re lucky to have him. He’s been my navigator for a several years now and I’ve never had a better one. We’ve been through thousands of jumps, most of them out beyond the nav-beacons and he has never flubbed a jump. In fact, he’s got the best record of all of Argo’s navigators.”

Harrison added, “He is smart, he works hard and he does it right. He has my complete confidence. Why would you be interested in Danny?”

Gorman asked, “You know that he is Enhanced?”

Schmit said, “That’s pretty common these days.”

Gorman said, “It is now but twenty years ago on Mars, it was criminal. When it was discovered that Daniel was enhanced, his family was seriously harassed. Their procedure was done before the law but the authorities gave them as much trouble as they could. Of course the Sokolsky family wasn’t alone. A lot of people were persecuted under that law before it was overturned. They had a very difficult time.”

Harrison said, “How did that happen under Alliance law?”

“Remember- the Alliance does not get involved with local politics unless the local government is doing something blatantly unconstitutional which is why their so called Genetic Purity Act was overturned.” Gorman took four pictures out and placed them on the table. “Have you ever seen any of these people?”

Harrison and Schmit looked at the four pictures. They were young people in the late teens or early twenties. Schmit shook his head. Harrison said, “No. Never.”

“Sokolsky went to school with these kids. They are all enhanced and all very pissed off by the treatment that they and their families received on Mars. The difference is that Danny took a job with Argos. These kids formed a terrorist organization called the New People.”

Schmit said, “Never heard of them.”

Gorman said, “If you were on Mars or any number of backwards worlds that oppress enhanced persons, they would annoy the crap out of you. This little group has very quietly amassed quite a resume of malicious pranks without ever causing any serious injury. They are more vandals than terrorists. They vented methane into a dome and made the whole place smell like farts for days. Put Antarian frogs in a colony water supply. Stuff like that. You see- Danny got a red flag because of his past association with those people. He used to play chess with their leader.”

Schmit simply shook his head and said, “You’re barking up the wrong tree on this one Colonel. My wife’s cocker spaniel is much more terrifying than Danny.”

Harrison said, “No. Not Danny. He’s solid as they come. The only thing I’ve every heard him say even remotely political was to gripe about the cuts to the Ministry of Science budget because of the war.”

Gorman collected all of the photos and closed the file. “That’s the same conclusion that I had already reached. Your man may someday be called a brilliant scientist. He’s already a brilliant mathematician. I’d bet a years pay that we’ll never call him a terrorist. If he has your confidence, then I’m closing the file.”

*          *          *

Danny and Tom sat chatting amiably on the side of the pool. It had been so many years since he had to worry about it, Danny completely forgot the red diamond tattoo on his right calf that forever labeled him as Enhanced.

He was so comfortable around Tom that he had let his defenses down.

Growing up, Danny would never have gone out in public without his ankles uncovered. To do so would be to invite a beating or worse at the hands of the religious lunatics that called themselves the Reformed Church. Mars and other backwards colonies were lousy with them. It occurred to Danny in mid conversation and he was so startled that Tom asked, “Are you all right?”

Danny shook his head. “No. I don’t feel right. I want to get back to my room.”

He fumbled around with his things and was visibly shaken. He rose and began to retreat back to the elevator.

Alarmed, Tom stood up and followed him to the elevator.

Tom noticed that Danny was shaking and sweating and said, “Easy man. It looks like you’re having a panic attack. Just relax and breathe. It happens to a lot to guys that have been inside starships for months at a time and then get out into wide open spaces.”

The elevator door opened and Danny slipped in like he was expecting an ambush.

Tom followed him in and punched the button for their floor.

As the elevator traversed the short distance from the roof to their floor, Danny eyes were down carefully studying the floor. He happed to notice the red diamond tattoo and numbers on Tom’s right ankle.

Danny immediately relaxed and slumped against the back of the elevator. “I feel like such an idiot.”

Tom’s eyebrows arched and he said, “I don’t have a clue what is going on.”

The elevator came to a stop and Danny simply said, “Back to the room.”

Once inside the living room of their suite, Tom made some drinks and Danny sat down in one of the big comfortable chairs. His hand automatically went to the tattoo. He said, “I’m enhanced. Most places it’s nothing but back when I was a kid on Mars, the Reformed Church was a big deal. Having your tatt or ID number seen by those crazies could mean a beating or much worse.”

Tom handed Danny a concoction of frozen citrus and booze and sat in the opposite chair. “I’m sorry to hear that. I’m guessing that you’ve had some difficulties with them?”

Danny nodded. He wanted to say more but the words escaped him. How can you ever talk about that?

“I’ve heard about the religious loons, but never had to deal with them”, Tom said after taking a drink. “Vega is an A class star that puts out a lot of UV and other stuff that’s not good for you so, everybody is either enhanced or dies early of cancer. Now I’m curious. What’s your Genome-code?”

Danny said, “I don’t really know what it means.”

“Not many people but geneticist and doctors do. According to the law, the code identifies the specific enhancements that have been added to your basic family genes. It’s always twelve two digit hexadecimal numbers. That way if you are sick or hurt, the medics can scan it so they will know how to treat you. So… what’s your code?”

Danny said, “What does it matter?”

Tom said, “In the fleet there’s kind of a tradition. If your codes are close, it is like you are a cousin. It helps when you are a few thousand light years from anyone that’s real family.”

Danny knew the number by heart. “A0, 2C, 32, 4F, 12, 08, 0F, B2, 70, 77, F2, AC”.

Tom looked stunned. He said, “Repeat it again slower.”

After Danny finished repeating the number, Tom said, “It’s no wonder that we even look alike. Our Genome-code is identical.”

Danny said, “How is that even possible?”

“I don’t know but it’s sort of cool. I like the idea of having a twin.”

*          *          *

Admiral Bassett sat pensively at the head of the table in the secure conference room in at the core of Alliance Fleet Headquarters. Ten thousand details had to be hammered out and time was short.

“Work should be finished on the North Carolina and Nelson before we shove off next week,” reported Admiral Stewart, Bassett’s Chief of Staff. “But we still have finishing work on twenty destroyers and at least eight cruisers. We’re taking on the last of the personnel to bring our crews up to 100%.”

Bassett said, “See what kind of help we can get out of the yard here. Hiro, how about the carriers?”

Admiral Hiro Tanaka, commander of the carrier groups answered, “Materially, we’re in good shape. Our ships have been shaken down and all our air wings are up to strength. There’s just one thing that bothers me. We’re short on good experienced Commander, Air Group. The guy in the slot on the Saratoga is just a Lieutenant.”

Bassett said, “A good CAG is a rare commodity on a good day. You have any suggestions?”

“Crash McDonald is here and he’s healthy”, Tanaka replied.

“Isn’t he retired?”

“I know him. He was with me on the Halsey. If we ask him, he’ll come. He knows the job and can help me work the other CAGs into shape.”

Bassett asked, “How about your Captains?”

Tanaka said, “I’ve got Hart, Yates, Shannon and Brenner. All experienced carrier jocks. The rest are a mixed bag of experienced line officers- mostly cruiser skippers. With a dozen brand new fleet carriers, it’s hard to dole out the experience.”

Stewart sighed and said, “I’ve got some destroyer skippers that are just light commanders. “

Bassett said, “We just don’t have enough old hands to go around. Let’s check with the academy and see if we can shake loose some instructors. Maybe run some workshops and seminars while we’re here for the new commanders. I hate the idea of losing ships to green skippers but I suppose that it is inevitable.”

Stewart asked, “Have we decided on which ship will handle primary navigation?”

“The R-class battle ships are best suited to the task”, Bassett replied. “My own ship Repulse is too busy with fleet command and control. The R-class battleships have extensive computer and command spaces but they are all handling critical function.”

Tanaka said, “The new fleet carriers have similar capabilities. I would suggest Saratoga. She’s not a Division Flagship and her commander is Jerry Carter. He was a Astro-Navigation instructor here at the Academy before the war.”

“Have we designated a senior navigator?”

Bassett said, “Commander Taylor or Keller are at top of the list and not commanding a ship. I’m not sure. No one has ever done what we have in mind. Whoever is in that slot has got to be hell on wheels. We’ve got to be on time and on target or we’re going to be in serious trouble.”

Stewart said, “I suggest that we hand off the question of our primary navigator to our subordinates. We need the best that we’ve got and not just one man, we will need a staff of qualified navigators that can be available around the clock.”

The officers assembled around the table all nodded their agreement.

Bassett said, “Let’s take a break, talk to our staff officers, get some food and reassemble at 1700. Hiro- I want to know how you plan on using your light carriers. Sam- please give some thought on how we plan on deploying the battle cruisers. Dismissed.”

*          *          *

Captain Jerry Carter looked at the view screen on his ready-room aboard Saratoga. His sister ships Yorktown and Enterprise of Carrier Division I were easily visible. Lexington was behind them in the slow parking orbit that had been assigned by Capella Traffic Control.

Most of his crew was down on Capella Station enjoying their first liberty in months. A skeleton crew was aboard Sara and the other big carriers to keep them running and maintain readiness.

Scattered across his desk were a number of reports on Sara’s various systems. Slowly he was putting together the ships shakedown performance report. Hopefully the Sara would be officially combat ready before they jumped into enemy space.

Somewhere between the fusion reactor efficiency report and the jump engine engineering log, there was a short chime: “Communications to the Captain.”

Carter answered, “What is it Comms?”

“Incoming message from a Dr. Richards of the Fleet Academy.”

“I’ll take it here at my desk.”

After a few moments Dr. Richard’s grizzled face appeared on his monitor.

“Good afternoon Philip. How are you doing?”

The older gentleman smiled and said, “I’m doing well Jerry. I must say I’m proud of you. Skipper of a fleet carrier- you’ve done well for yourself.”

Carter sighed and said, “It’s a great gig Philip but sometimes I feel like the only adult on the whole ship. I’m ten years older than everyone except for a few of my petty officers. What can I do for you?”

“Jerry- we received a Doctorial dissertation that I’m not sure what to do with. It involves some very advanced mathematical methods used to quickly calculate jumps across extremely long distances. To be honest, we don’t know what to make of it. The math is brilliant but…”

“…but what Philip?”

“To be honest it's over our heads. Whoever wrote it is either a certified genius or loon. If this paper pans out, some of the stuff in it will rewrite the manuals. Especially at extreme ends: very long and very short jumps.”

Jerry said, “Micro-jumps?”

“There’s nothing that would prohibit Micro-jumps in the method this gentleman describes.”

Micro-jumps are very short jumps from a few light-minutes out to a half light-year. It was also a method that the enemy had used to give the Alliance fleet several very nasty turns. It wasn’t a problem with the equipment. Any jump engine could make a micro-jump. The problem was calculating micro jumps accurately. The best the Alliance had been able to manage were jumps out to a few light-months- just enough to put you in serious trouble against an enemy that could do precise micro-jumps. The same problem existed with very long jumps. Past 150 light-years, the accuracy was so poor that most people self-limited their jumps.

“Send it to me Philip. I want to see it ASAP.”

Dr. Richards touched a few keys on his terminal. “It’s on its way on a side channel. It’s brilliant: complex but simple at the same time. You handle all of the different parts of the equation like simultaneous derivatives. I’ve had simulations running on our own computers- everything looks very promising.”

Carter looked at the title page as the document was received: Applied Computational Methods of Hyperspace Geometry. He asked, “Do we know who wrote this?”

Richards said, “I checked him out. He’s something of a wonder kid. He got his bachelors degree at 14. He got his Masters degree from the University of Mars at 17. Argos Transit recruited him and sent him to their in-house Astrogation school. He’s been working for Argos ever since and is their top ranked navigator.”

Carter asked, “What’s his name?”

“Daniel Sokolsky.”

*          *          *

Danny and Tom arrived very early to avoid the supper crowd. The restaurant that Tom picked was a small establishment on the edge of the University District. Most of the tables were outside and they picked one in the courtyard near a babbling fountain.

As usual, everybody seemed to know Tom and the waiter brought out two frozen slushy drinks and took their order. As the pair sat speculating quietly about the massive fleet gathering, they heard a voice say, “Rivers! I knew you wouldn’t miss this party.”

Tom stood up, smiled, and extended his hand, “Art Rutledge. It’s been years. Sit down and have a drink with us.”

The tall, rangy officer sat at the table and gave the waiter a nod. “Where have they got you stationed Tom?”

“Right now I am part of the TacCom liaison team. We had to upgrade the TacCom systems on the commercial transports for the operation. This is Dan Sokolsky, Navigator for the Raymond Burke. I’m not sure where I’ll end up permanently.”

Rutledge shook Sokolsky’s hand. “I lucked out. I’m the Tactical Officer for the Savannah, flagship of Destroyer Squadron II. She’s brand new, fast and loaded for bear.”

Tom said, “Savannah… She’s from a brand new class of ships isn’t she?”

“They are called Command Light Cruisers or CLCs. They are designed to act as the flagship for a squadron of destroyers. We’re all up to strength. We’ve got eleven destroyers in the squadron- all of them brand new.”

Danny said, “My father works for the Viking Yards in orbit of Mars. I’ve heard a lot of good things about the new destroyers.”

Rutledge said, “We’ve got four each of the Shepherd 63 class, batches A and B and three of the new Heavy Battle Destroyers or HBDs. The only difference in the Shepherd class is that the batch A ships are missile heavy and the B’s are gun heavy. Mechanically they are identical and are both are excellent escorts. The HBDs are up-gunned destroyers with a light cruisers armament. And fast- you’ve got to see it to believe it.”

Tom drained his glass and said, “It’s a shame the fleet didn’t have these ships when the enemy first showed up. This would have been over a long time ago.”

Rutledge laughed bitterly and said, “In the years before the war broke out, the Green party tried to disband the Alliance fleet every year. We were damned lucky to have anything.”

Tom said, “It sure doesn’t seem like it. The fleet has been bled white. How many of our friends and classmates are… just gone?”

“Theirs not to reason why, theirs is but to do and die”, Rutledge growled.

Danny said, “What was that?”

Rutledge said, “Charge of the Light Brigade. It’s an old poem about soldiers who are told to go do impossible things against impossible odds with antique hardware and die by the thousands. Someday when this is over, whoever survives needs to run for the Parliament. Never let them forget. They can’t let us get caught unprepared like we were five years ago.”

Tom said, “You got my vote.”

Danny said, “Mine too.

Rutledge raised his glass, “To living long enough to vote.”

Tom and Danny raised their glasses.