Black Fleet Trilogy 1: Warship Read online

  "You'll know soon enough, Captain," Lynch said, looking at ship's time again. "In the meantime, maintain emission security protocols."

  "The thermal bloom from our engines will be visible to anyone looking," Jackson reminded him. "We're not completely dark out here."

  "By the time anyone will be in a position to investigate we'll all be long gone," Lynch said, giving Jackson an annoyed glare. "The mission is to wait until we're contacted. Until that time—"

  "Contact," Ensign Davis said. "Tight beam com laser has just been detected on the forward array, running decryption routines now."

  "See, Captain?" Lynch said. "Nothing to worry about."

  "Do not mistake impatience to resume our actual mission with worry," Jackson said, growing weary of the other man's smugness.

  "Encryption codes on their side were valid, Captain," Davis said, cutting off Lynch's response. "Receiving the message in its entirety."

  "Send it to me."

  “Aye, sir."

  Jackson watched as the text began scrolling across his display. The message was short and to the point:

  Civilian passenger Aston Lynch to be brought by shuttle to pre-arranged coordinates. Will receive in one hour from receipt of this message. Send no reply.

  Regards,

  Capt. Asiri, CO, TCS Oscar Marks

  "I assume you have yet another set of secret coordinates in your possession, Mr. Lynch," Jackson said.

  "I do."

  "Then follow the bridge sentry down to the shuttle hangar and prepare to depart. Ensign Davis, alert Commander Juarez that a shuttle will need to be prepped and a pilot ready to take our passenger over to another ship," Jackson said, still not happy with how he seemed to have little control over the events taking place on his ship.

  "Aye, sir," Davis said. "Alerting Commander Juarez now."

  "It looks like we may be here for a while," Jackson remarked to the crew once Lynch had left the bridge. "Go ahead and return gravity to normal and stand down from Transition Alert; normal watches until further notice."

  "Aye, sir," came a chorus of confirmations as the crew sent his orders to all the departments in the ship.

  ****

  "You still think this is just some political wrangling between Haven and New America?" Jackson asked Celesta when she walked into the wardroom to find him in front of the coffee machine.

  "I've already admitted that this is a bit unusual," she conceded as she grabbed a clean mug. "But I'm not ready to call it anything more nefarious yet. Besides, we should be underway soon enough."

  "Have you ever had any clandestine operations like this in your time in First Fleet, Commander?" Ensign Davis spoke up from a table where she was reading from an oversized comlink the younger officers tended to prefer and eating a pastry.

  "Nothing this dramatic," Celesta said, turning to the younger officer. While the bridge was a formal place, officers tended to be a bit more relaxed and approachable in the wardroom. "We had our fair share of secret passengers and bizarre orders, but I've never transitioned this far outside a star system. I'll admit that it is a bit unnerving."

  "I sometimes think the politicians miss the old days when nation states were constantly fighting with each other," Jackson said with a snort. "We haven't had so much as a mild cold war in centuries."

  "Why do you think that is, Captain?" Davis asked. Celesta noticed that the young ensign, while respectful, wasn't nearly as aloof around Captain Wolfe as the majority of the crew she'd observed.

  "Distance coupled with nobody wanting for anything," Jackson said, leaning back against the counter and sipping his coffee. "All the major enclaves have more resources and space than their populations could consume in a millennia, and despite the newest generation of warp drive from Tsuyo Corporation, the idea of trying to invade seems ludicrous."

  "There's also that," Celesta offered, taking a seat at another table. "Tsuyo corporate office controls the flow of technology to all the worlds, and Haven has a firm hand on their board. Anybody that doesn't play nice risks being cut off."

  "You may have that backwards, Commander," Jackson said with a mirthless chuckle. "I believe Tsuyo's chairman has a firm hand on Haven's representatives, and by proxy most of the Senate."

  "Maybe," Celesta said, "but you'll never hear me admit that out loud where the wrong person can hear it."

  Jackson just shrugged. "It's not exactly a secret," he said, pushing himself off the counter. "The system has worked for so long it's more or less an institution and nobody seems to have any real interest in changing it. Tsuyo has controlled all aspects of spaceflight since before the first colony ships were sent to Alpha Centauri. They mete out technology at a rate that can be absorbed by the population to ensure maximum profitability and we dutifully allow them to maintain control over it. Did you know there are systems on this ship that Fleet personnel are not allowed to work on or even access?" When Celesta shook her head, he continued. "Not many people do. As XO you'll want to get with Lieutenant Commander Singh and familiarize yourself with those. Per the agreement with CENTCOM those systems are leased to the Confederacy and can only be worked on by Tsuyo technicians except in the case of an extreme emergency."

  "That's certainly something I would like to be sure about," Celesta said, furiously making notes on her comlink to remind herself to talk to Chief Engineer Singh.

  "It's not such a big deal on a ship this old," Jackson said with a shrug as he walked to the hatch. "But on a newer vessel any tampering could land you in front of a board of inquiry." He stepped through into the corridor and made his way back towards the bridge.

  Nodding to the Marine sentry, he slipped into his seat and began checking over statuses on his display as all the departments sent their post-transition reports to the bridge. As he’d expected, the relatively short flight was uneventful and there were no concerns that he needed to address.

  "Captain, Shuttle Three is on its way back with Mr. Lynch aboard," the com officer said. "They'll be docking in approximately fifteen minutes."

  "Did the shuttle report in or was it another tight beam from the Oscar Marks?"

  "Tight beam com, sir,"

  "OPS, tell Commander Juarez to debrief the pilot and send the last known coordinates of the Oscar Marks to my station," Jackson said. He thought about having Lynch brought up to the bridge to report to him directly, but he knew the political operative wouldn't be pinned down so easily. It was almost certain that the little weasel had an order in his possession that was a catch-all to make sure he didn't have to answer any questions he didn't want to. "Also, keep me apprised of Mr. Lynch's movements once he's back on the Blue Jacket," he ordered instead.

  It was nearly half an hour later when his terminal pinged with a message from his flight operations officer, Commander Javier Juarez. The Oscar Marks was sitting eighty thousand kilometers off their bow, twelve degrees declination. Captain Asiri was still running dark and had deployed stealth countermeasures that completely obscured the large ship from the Blue Jacket's passive sensors as well as completely confusing Jackson. Why bother to keep hiding when they'd already identified themselves in the previous communications?

  He was mulling over the possibilities when a specialist he recognized as being one of Juarez's spacers walked onto the bridge and handed him yet another official packet, this one bearing Admiral Winters' signature.

  "Mr. Lynch asked me to bring this to you, sir," the young man stammered. Not serving on the bridge, or anywhere near Officer Country, he was clearly intimidated standing before the captain.

  "Thank you," Jackson said simply, reaching out and taking the packet. "You're dismissed." The spacer spun on his heel in an honest to God facing movement, something nobody did after basic training, and marched off the bridge with his eyes fixed on the exit. Jackson would have almost laughed had it not been for the bundle of almost certain unhappiness he held in his hand.

  "Ensign Davis, you have the bridge until Commander Wright returns," he said as he climbed out
of his seat.

  "Aye, sir," Davis said.

  ****

  "Captain Wolfe," Admiral Winters began on the video that was playing on Jackson's terminal screen. "This message is to accompany your official change of orders, which will have been in the packet Mr. Lynch handed you containing this recording.

  "The need for the utmost security should be apparent by this point, so I won't waste time explaining to you why it was necessary. Honestly, all you need to do is follow orders and you don't need to understand the big picture to do that. Now ... the reason for this message has nothing to do with your new routing orders.

  "While I would have ... enjoyed ... telling you this in person, this will have to suffice. This will be the last cruise for the Blue Jacket. In fact, the entire Ninth is being stood down. The Pontiac and the Crazy Horse are already steaming for the Sierra Shipyards to be decommissioned and dismantled. The destroyers from the Ninth will not be replaced. Black Fleet is paring down operations in the face of no threats, immediate or potential. CENTCOM feels the funding can be better allocated and, frankly, I couldn't agree more. With the implementation of the second generation Tsuyo com network the need for Black Fleet at all is coming to an end. But, I digress.

  "I think we both know that given your fitness scores and background that the chances of you being assigned a new command are quite slim. I've taken the liberty of drafting your retirement orders and will have them waiting for you on Jericho when you come back through. I'd like you to take the time you have left on this cruise to give Commander Wright as much time as possible in command. I don't necessarily want you mentoring her, I'd just like her to have as much seat time on a starship bridge as possible." She stopped talking and stared into the camera, her face contorting as she tried to keep her expression neutral and not allow her smugness to be a part of the official record. Apparently not having a graceful way to end the message, the video simply ended.

  "Fucking bitch," Jackson said, the curse coming out as an exhausted sigh as he leaned back in his chair. So that was it. His entire life cut off at the knees in one short, dispassionate video message. The fight was officially over. All the hard fought battles for acceptance and recognition were for naught as someone sitting behind a desk decided four aging warships, in an era of peace and prosperity, were no longer worth keeping around.

  He wasn't sure how long he'd been staring off into space when a chiming sound let him know someone was outside the hatch. It also let him know that person was a civilian as his crew would give the customary single knock. "Come in, Mr. Lynch," he said with all the enthusiasm of someone being led to the gallows.

  "How did you know it was me?" Lynch asked as he strolled in. "It was the chime, right? Every damn ship is different. Some stick to the old traditions and others don't."

  Jackson was staring at the man in slack-jawed confusion, not completely sure it was the same person he'd been ferrying from Jericho Station.

  "You seem ... different, Mr. Lynch," he said carefully, eyeing the worn, casual attire and the changed demeanor. Lynch's facial expression, normally scrunched up into a pretentious sneer, was relaxed and affixed with a lopsided grin.

  "And?" Lynch said, seeming to be thoroughly enjoying the moment.

  "You're a damn CIS spook," Jackson said, things suddenly snapping into focus.

  "Not bad, Captain! First guess and a quick one at that," Lynch said, smiling broadly. "Agent Pike, CENTCOM Intelligence Section, at your service."

  "Can this day get any more bizarre?" Jackson asked to nobody in particular.

  "Ah ... you saw the admiral's little love letter I take it," Pike said, slouching into one of the seats in front of the desk.

  "You knew about it?"

  "Spook, remember? I went through all your orders and whatnot before I resealed them and had them delivered," Pike said. "Tough break, Captain."

  "Yeah," Jackson said noncommittally. "That's how it goes, I guess. So why drop the act now?"

  "You mean besides the fact that it was exhausting playing a preening, pretentious dick that worked for a pompous, arrogant ass?"

  "Besides that, yes."

  "There was no longer a need for it," Pike said with a shrug. "The deception was for Captain Asiri and the New America representatives that were aboard the Oscar Marks. I also think I'll have a better shot with Commander Wright being myself."

  "Are you certain about that?" Jackson asked, raising one eyebrow. Pike let out a genuine, hearty laugh at his own expense.

  "I like you, Captain," he said. "And what the hell? It certainly couldn't hurt. She was rather unimpressed with Mr. Aston Lynch."

  "The fact she shot you down as Lynch makes me respect her a bit more," Jackson said.

  "Me too," Pike said distractedly. "Anyway, the real reason I came up here, Captain, is to give you a bit of advice." Jackson noticed the serious expression on the man's face and leaned in a bit despite the fact they were the only two in the office.

  "Your new orders are going to take you out to the frontier, right up to the rim. I'm talking beyond the official boundaries of the Asianic Union and out to the newest colony worlds and newly opened warp lanes. You'll be asked to simply conduct survey scans, check atmospheric condition, the usual ... but there is also the directive to monitor local media and communications."

  "What possible purpose could that serve?" Jackson asked.

  "There's something happening along the frontier, specifically along the Asianic Union, Warsaw Alliance corridor," Pike said carefully. "Just so you know, I could get in a lot of trouble for telling you this, but I want you to know that you need to fly into this with your eyes wide open."

  "When you say 'something' you mean what, exactly?" Jackson said, skeptical of anything a CIS agent would tell him.

  "That's just it," Pike said, leaning back again. "We have no idea. There's conclusive evidence that we've had two ships disappear under suspicious circumstances, but there's no concrete evidence to tell us who did it, why, or even where the ships are."

  "I hadn't heard anything about that," Jackson said, suddenly very interested.

  "Classified," Pike said. "One was an automated exploration vessel verifying a safe course to a new system with three habitable planets. The other was a merchant fleet cruiser that went to see what happened to the unmanned ship. CIS and the Senate Committee on Exploration have clamped a lid down tight on this one."

  "What's the most popular theory?"

  "The Asianic Union is preparing to make a move on Haven," Pike said without preamble.

  "What?!" Jackson said, almost laughing. "That's fucking absurd."

  "Is it?" Pike pressed. "Why? Third Fleet is well equipped and loyal to the AU's Parliament. They know Black Fleet is being whittled away at an increasing rate so CENTCOM bean counters can make their numbers look good to Haven. Don't let centuries of peace by lack of proximity fool you, Captain. We're all still very human and thus lustful of what our neighbors have."

  "Okay, I'll play along. What would the AU gain by making a move on Haven? That's tantamount to declaring war on the Terran Confederacy. The other enclaves wouldn't stand for that."

  "Not a war, a raid," Pike said. "What is on Haven?"

  "The Confederate Senate, CENTCOM Operations Center, and Tsuyo corporate headquarters," Jackson said.

  "You missed one," Pike said. "Tsuyo R&D is also on Haven. It's not something that's widely publicized, but it's there. A raid on that facility would garner the AU a technological edge that would be hard to surmount. Couple that with their superior population numbers and manufacturing base ... you see where I'm going with this."

  "I suppose it's plausible," Jackson admitted, the words seeming to cause him physical pain to say. "But why attack a frontier drone and a freight hauler?"

  "Obviously to keep a secret hidden," Pike said with a shrug. "Like I said ... that's one of the more popular theories. Not to mention the least exotic."

  "Oh yeah?"

  "Oh yeah," Pike confirmed. "It does sort of make sen
se in a way. Given Tsuyo's Japanese heritage from when the company was on Earth, the AU may feel they're entitled to it anyway. Other theories range from conspiracies to keep the new planets uninhabited all the way to attack from aliens."

  "Aliens?" Jackson laughed. "Digging deep for that one, aren't they?"

  "We've discovered at least one race of intelligent aliens," Pike said, holding up a finger.

  "Yeah, a species of methane breathers on a world that would kill us within seconds," Jackson said. "We can't even communicate with them. Has anybody even been back to that planet in the last hundred years?"

  "Just the occasional scientific expedition." Pike shook his head.

  "So, I suppose I should thank you for the warning," Jackson said. "What happens next? Are you coming along?"

  "No," Pike said. "I'm not much of a crew person myself. The Oscar Marks should be departing soon; we'll wait a bit after that and then we'll fly under normal power a short distance and then you'll drop me off. After that you're clear to warp to your first waypoint."

  "So we just wait?" Jackson asked, not bothering to ask the operative what was waiting only a short distance away.

  "Well, we could pass the time more quickly if you'd be so kind as to offer a weary traveler a drink out of that bottle in your lower left drawer," Pike said with a grin.

  "I'm not even going to ask you how you know about that," Jackson said sourly, not bothering to deny the charge. He reached down, keyed the drawer open, and pulled out a still-sealed bottle of his precious Kentucky bourbon. "Grab some glasses from that shelf and lock the hatch."

  Chapter 6

  "The Oscar Marks is pulling away," Ensign Davis reported, giving Pike a long sideways glance as she did. His changed appearance and demeanor had caused a hush to fall on the bridge when he and Jackson had walked back in. For his part, Jackson didn't bother explaining the change to his crew.

  "Not even so much as a tight beamed 'safe voyage,’" Pike remarked from the observer’s seat. "Asiri really is an arrogant ass." The last comment caused jaws to drop and stay open. Jackson just rolled his eyes, but said nothing.