He half-wondered if anyone could be monitoring this briefing. No way, he told himself. Watching Rear Admiral Carrell push a command into the computer resting on the large desk at the front of the room. He listened as the two-inch thick heavy door gradually hissed shut and then met the door frame with a sharp clang. A series of locks sequentially engaged with subtle metallic clacks—the sounds flowed around the room like a wave counter-clockwise, stopping behind Carrell.
"Room, secure." A female computer voice droned directly.
The next command dimmed the lights, making the projection onto the screen clearer and sharper. Aaen noted the twin blinking lights that moved from the bottom opposite corners of the screen inward to the center of the screen. The Galileo's crest comprised a tall black pentagon with white lightning bolts on the sides, and the name of the ship below the crest in dark, authoritative lettering. The room felt colder than it had when they first entered. Aaen sat upright and put his weight on his elbows, resting his chin on his coupled hands in front of his face. He was an officer, and he was going to look and act like it. He couldn't wait to set foot inside the cabin of a shuttle whose existence—before—was barely more than popular, but unconfirmed legend. He focused his attention on Rear Admiral Carrell as she looked at them.
"Okay, crew, listen closely. You have all read your mission dossier, so you have an idea of what's going on."
Aaen subtly nodded acknowledgment.
"Your ship for this mission is the USSC Galileo, it is a mark-five deep-space spy shuttlecraft. That's right. Your ship is a spy ship, designed for deep-space reconnaissance missions into places that may not strictly-speaking be legally sanctioned or acknowledged by Command—a proverbial 'fly on the wall' if you will—and, is sometimes used for direct-action military operations. It was built at a classified military installation in the far-reaches of a restricted area of Union space that goes unacknowledged and unmentioned in the greater majority of general conversation, even amongst those in the Office of the Admiralty. Our modern Area 51, if you will, where a highly-educated and experienced group of military scientists works on building the next greatest and coolest technology for our fleet. The Galileo is designed to be extremely fast, highly maneuverable, and its designers have gone to very great lengths to make it as hard to detect as is modernly possible. It is equipped with a class nine translight drive, a class six defensive shield array, two class-seven forward cannon emitters, and twin mark-six probe casings that can be used as probes, or," she spoke more darkly, "as very powerful torpedo warheads. Be careful how you use the probe casings because once they are used, they must be replaced. As the equipment your shuttle is carrying is highly specialized, neither are easily replaced and it does take some time, so please be careful as to how you choose to use them. If you find yourself engaged in an armed conflict with another ship, realize that you are smaller than they are, but your shuttle has impressively sharp teeth for a ship its size, and can out-run just about any other ship out there whose crew may consider shooting at you if in the unlikely event you are detected by any such ship. Try to be creative in any armed conflict, and remember, we prefer a diplomatic resolution over an antimatter warhead exchange whenever possible."
Something tells me that philosophy's more luxury right now than strict protocol, Aaen thought to himself.
She continued, "What we know now is that the Rotelan are currently finishing working on the construction of a new cloaking device, and are getting ready to field-test this new technology."
Okay, so where does Galileo come in? Aaen silently wondered.
"—Our spies have told us that the Rotelan are ahead of their projected construction schedule."
Aaen's gut sank. He took a deep breath to relieve the stress swelling sensation in his head, and a swell of righteous, emphatic enthusiasm building in his chest. He shifted position in his chair and looked at Admiral Carrell more directly, with a determined look.
His gut was in a knot for a moment, and told him what he was about to hear was going to shake every-single-one of the crew.
"The Rotelans have done a really excellent job of keeping the details of their first phase of tests from getting out. So, yes, if you're guessing we don't know what those details are, you're right. What we do know is its current location, but that much will only be good for so long. Command has authorized a deep-space incursion mission—a black operation, if you will." she turned to her left. "You are being sent. . .here—" another command to her computer changed the image on the projection screen. As though she had zoomed in on one particular point in space so small it took several seconds for the new subject to gradually become visible.
Aaen was wide-eyed in alarm—and darn-near sheer panic!—but stayed composed at the sight. He suddenly felt like he had a weight pressing into his chest, and an animal dropped onto his shoulders.
"—Cheese!" a crew member gasped two seats to Aaen's right. Aaen was almost excited at the notion of what the briefing was suggesting they do . . . and he wanted to hear more. Much more. He was now more excited than scared, or some combination of both—nothing like an opportunity to do something daring. . .well, by his standards, at least. He looked at the new tactical images, then at Admiral Carrell, alternated back and forth, and then focused on the projected half-speck of light and darkness, slowly turning on one axis like the Earth.
"How far deep into their space is that planet, Admiral?" a crew member sitting to Aaen's immediate right asked.
"Nearly a-hundred-light years, Lieutenant," she responded with a small grin.
Aaen was focused on the tactical images. In the back of his mind, he briefly wondered how even a spy managed to get so far deep into their territory, but let his mind run amok with guesses out of the fascination of what he suspected Command was going to ask them to do. He was almost liking what he was hearing, but his gut told him the really interesting part of the briefing was still coming. "From what point?"
"From the edge of a grid-section of their border, Commander,"
"Serious? How could they have enough ships to cover a length of space that big?"
There was a silence in the room as Aaen noted on both sides of his peripheral vision the other four crew members were looking at the images. He didn't need to hear them say anything, in particular, to convince him they were stuck in awe, at least for the moment. "I mean. . .that's-freaking-massive!"
Admiral Carrell turned slightly. "Captain, there is still a lot that we don't know about the situation in space between us and what the Rotelan are building other than the fact. That's why we're sending you five in. Your mission is to infiltrate Rotelan space, and then find the new modul cloaking device."
"'Modul?'" Aaen asked.
"That's what the Rotelan are calling it. And it presents a direct threat to Union security. If word of this technology's existence got out, there would be a race from multiple not-so-friendly governments that don't like us very much to use it."
"Or a war," Aaen added.
Admiral Carrell briefly pointed at Aaen, "Right."
Aaen rubbed his forehead for a moment then looked at the screen. "How are we supposed to get in, much less that deep into Rotelan space?" Aaen gestured at the images. "If they've got—"
"That's why we're sending Galileo," Admiral Carrell interrupted. "Intelligence suggests the only way to get this deep into Rotelan space is to use the smallest and fastest ship we've got. The only ship that matches that description is Galileo. It was designed for these types of missions." she grinned. Aaen was almost cheerfully spooked at the mention. Admiral Carrell pushed another command which caused a new tactical image to appear, a side-view of the Voyager, with some new details added. Aaen's curiosity was nearly piqued.
"You will launch from the Voyager, which will take you as far as these coordinates," the image changed again to show an animation of a Galaxy-class starship at unusually high-translight, stopping at a point in a grid-sector of distant space, "which put you on the edge of Union space. You will launch under the cover of shuttle bay emergency maintenance. The bridge will cause what will appear as a shuttle bay emergency evacuation. Nobody will see you prepare for launch, or the actual launch, itself. You will then set a course for Rotelan space, which will require you to enter the Neutral Zone—"
So much for treaty negotiations, Aaen silently quipped, referring to the treaty that forbade entrance into the Zone without prior, careful, explicitly-negotiated permission from both sides, else risk a war that could erase both sides. A seemingly unstoppable force meeting an immovable object, so-to-speak . . . at least for the time being, either way, Aaen silently thought. He tried to figure out which side was which for a moment, then disregarded the albeit rhetorical question and reminded himself to stay focused on what Admiral Carrell was saying.
"You will then travel at high-translight until you reach the Rotelan border."
Aaen noted a change in her tone.
"This is where things are going to get really tricky."
Oh, great. This should be good! Aaen thought worriedly, and excitedly. He anxiously clenched his fists on the table.
*****
Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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