Scorpion Relay - Part Five

Admiral Carrell browsed through each dossier, stopping at the second in the stack. Aaen also noticed there was a stack of finely-folded, darkly-colored uniforms resting on the center of the port translight nacelle. He wondered which one was designated for they would either be chosen as the crew's captain, or if it would be up for selection by a member of the crew.

Aaen silently yearned for the ship's center seat. It was, after all, what he was trained for, fundamentally. Besides, who wouldn't want to command such a ship? he silently asked himself. He thought back to all those recreation simulations, all of which were designed to test individual command and character traits to determine suitability for future consideration. They had to have meant something for him and his career. The simulation instructors always had good things to say about his performance, putting it mildly, his gut agreed with his head on that point. His forehead felt warm suddenly, a sensation that traveled down his face to the base of his throat. The instructors' always reviewed his ability to not just command, but to unite the crew into becoming a more coherent and functional team. Aaen recalled having been cited as being able to recognize the difference between a crew and an otherwise ordinary group of people trying to accomplish a common goal was comparable to the difference between a bus full of people on their way to school, and a professional orchestra that travelled by the same means. At times, he observed other command-hopefuls with other trainees on the sidelines to better learn others' strengths and weaknesses, and perhaps modify one's command strategies and tactics based on any self-determined need to adopt what seemed to work compared and in contrast to something one may have done that lead to a variably different result.

"Crew, this ship is manned by a crew of five. The captain, as you all undoubtedly are already aware from your prior experiences in the past on other ships of the fleet, is the first in line of command and has the most command authority on-board-ship, and is responsible for ensuring the mission's success. Second, you have the first officer, who is second in line of command, and operates the ship's internal and external sensors, and is one of a select few on the ship who can order the ship to self-destruct. We don't recommend doing that."

Duh. Aaen silently laughed. For an instant, he skeptically wondered if that has ever been something any crew has ever been faced with doing in the past based on whatever situations past crews may have had to be in. This is an Intelligence shuttlecraft. A spy ship, essentially . . . fundamentally designed to be darn-near impossible to detect by any particular standard. He had heavy doubts about any likelihood of the self-destruct function ever having been used, much less recently. Galileo was a Mark-V back on The Cry from the Dark, so he reasoned the last crew survived that mission. He recalled the large black lettering painted on the upper aft-port-side of the outer hull . . . "Galileo - Mark-V". Aaen attributed the "Mark-V" to infrastructural improvements to make Galileo more effective for its intended purpose. A ship doesn't need to be blown up from the outside, or the inside, for that matter, to be able to make improvements on any given ship. Research and development, alone, could do that comfortably, over any period of time. Crew members are trained to be able to survive, anyway, Aaen grinned.

"The first officer also modifies the ship's two probe casings to be used either as probes, or high-yield anti-matter torpedo warheads. Whoever chooses to be the first officer will build and/or modify these casings before they are transferred to the ship's one torpedo launcher to be launched. Keep in mind, you only get two, so please use them wisely. Next in the line of command is Tactical. Tactical is responsible for defending the ship by operating Galileo's shields, cannons and torpedo launcher. Your ship has the ability to sub-system target. If you are the tactical officer on this ship, you will receive more specific and detailed trained on that after you take your station. Next is Helm. Helm is responsible for safely navigating and flying the ship using the ship's navigational computer, maneuvering thrusters, impulse engines, and advanced translight drive. Operations is the last in the line of command, responsible for making sure the ship is in the right power mode, making sure power is diverted to needed systems at any given time, balancing the power levels, and all external short and long-range communications."

Aaen's silent yearning developed into a swelling, burning feeling that started in his head, travelling to his face, neck, and then went down into his shoulders, arms and chest. But his gut told him something else was about to happen—

"Captain. .Marissa,"

Marissa—a short, dark-haired, Caucasian young woman about five-foot-five-inches in height—raised her hand for a moment in acknowledgment. Aaen silently protested her decision, but held back and respected it, given the chain of command and the bridge position assignment system that was in place. He felt jealous, and envious of the fact, but stayed in the at-ease stance and observed the proceedings.

"—Ah, you are the senior-ranking crew member for this flight. I'm assuming you want to captain the Galileo?"

Marissa paused for a moment, then directly and authoritatively replied, "Yes, Admiral."

Admiral Carrell turned slightly, took the first uniform off the top of the stack and tossed it to her.

Marissa donned her uniform in seconds.

Aaen curiously eyed the assigned uniform and noted the uniform's design was very different than any other he had seen before. If the crew were to be captured, the captors probably wouldn't recognize the crew for who they really were. Granted, there are the hull markings along the side of the hull: the red delta shape on its side with two long red streaks implying speedily moving forward, and as always the ship's identifier and registry, but one could assume they were faked given the little tidbits of misinformation already evident in such an event . . . Aaen grinned for a moment, surprised at a minor but sharp swell of curiosity in his mind as to what might actually happen, but pushed the idea out of his mind and focused on the more exciting aspect of being part of a crew on this ship . . . working under the radar, so-to-speak. He optimistically, silently asked himself about how the mission might go, and what he and the rest of this crew were about to accomplish, regardless of who was in the center seat. No mission was all about any one particular crew member. Success of the mission, in general, Aaen knew, was always dependent on the sum of the collective's efforts. His mind flooded excitedly with ideas and possibilities as to what might happen in the crew's mission in the next few hours. He liked the notion, and the flurry of action possibilities his mind was generating. He started subtly grinning, and decided he couldn't wait to get on-board.

"Commander Jonathan?"

"I'll be the First Officer for this mission." Jonathan nodded as he was given his uniform.

Aaen's name was called next. He wasn't immediately sure which job he wanted for this assignment. The Captain was now no longer just a rank, and then the second-in-command job had already been assumed.

Aaen struggled to decide whether or not he wanted to be responsible for defending the shuttle should the crew come under attack? Or if he wanted to function as the pilot . . . Aaen silently asked himself how good of a shot was everyone else on the crew, whether one was ordered to target engines, shields, or something that would make a bigger, crippling or outright destructive boom, if need-be. Galileo looked as though she were certainly capable of getting a bolt through a shielded area of a target's hull if she needed to . . . They were both very tempting options . . . so he knee-jerked his hand into the air in acknowledgment and replied, "I'll fly the shuttle, Admiral."

Aaen was given his uniform, and he donned it quickly and anxiously. For a moment, he was concerned that the rest of the crew and Admiral Carrell were looking at him wondering why he was acting so sharply and jittery. He quickly realized they weren't.

Next was a Lieutenant-Commander Jensen (who didn't appear to be related to another Jensen Aaen had worked with before), and then a Lieutenant Mason. The Lieutenant-Commander chose Tactical, and then the Lieutenant was circumstantially decidedly appointed to Operations.

Now was the moment of truth.

"Alright, captain and crew. Step inside." Admiral Carrell gestured for the crew to proceed through the hatch.

Aaen stopped to allow the captain and first officer to enter first. Aaen was third in line. The air felt cool, and electrified; Aaen guessed the air was being pumped through the hissing ventilation system that Aaen guessed was coming through the ceiling and sides of the cabin. The attributed the electrifying sensation to the fact no-one in the crew had ever expected—much less anticipated—this auspicious opportunity. The silent rhetorical question rolling through Aaen's mind like a watermelon rolling around in the backseat of a car was whether or not this opportunity is an isolated one. His gut told him no. He told himself to stay focused, and was awestruck at what came next.

Admiral Carrell pointed out each officer to their stations. The aft computer stations rested on a white triangular platform. The platforms were mounted on a cylindrical beam extending about three feet from the floor. Aaen took his seat quickly and pulled himself towards his station. The Helm and Operations' computers were built into an upright white angled desk mount below the adjacent 24-inch main viewscreen. He turned around to watch Tactical and Operations enter the bridge and take their seats.

Aaen sat in the front-right, Operations was to his immediate left about three feet away. The Captain sat behind them in the center of the bridge, and then behind her to her left was the First Officer. Tactical sat directly behind Aaen.

"Crew, the computer equipment that you will be using will be much different than what you've used in the past on other ships in the fleet, and you'll find these computer controls and other equipment are significantly more sophisticated. In front of each of you is a recording that will walk you through how to operate this . . . unique shuttlecraft. Put on the headphones, push play and listen to and follow along with the entirety of your recording. Your recording will be collected when you're finished. Begin."

Aaen followed the instructions. Hello, and good day, Helm . . . Aaen didn't know who the female voice was that was speaking to him on his recording. As instructed, he clicked a command on the center of the screen then typed his name and confirmed with the shuttle's main computer. He was enabled to sign into his assigned computer station, and already, the screen gradually changed. This was already turning out to be very different than prior missions on the other main ships of the fleet. Admiral Carrell really wasn't kidding about this shuttle.

Aaen was wide-eyed at the sight of the looks of the controls. The recording introduced the login screen, and then transitioned him to the first set of computer controls—

What the, he thought wide-eyed, eyeing the gauges, meters, and other sophisticated technical information on the screen. This was no run-of-the-mill shuttlecraft, he decided. The Galileo was absolutely unique. He had never seen such a technological configuration for a shuttle. No wonder the very fact of her existence is classified so deeply! Aaen's attention was brought to a circular controller divided between different multi-dimensional directions: Forward, Aft, Starboard, Port, Starboard-Yaw, Port-Yaw, Starboard Roll, Port Roll . . . and the technical configuration was, well—he was instructed to click on a few of thrusters. He clicked a few of them, and watched as three of the directional indicators in the upper-left-corner of this screen shifted so sharply, and the changes were so smooth! There was virtually no delay, at least none that he could detect. He started to ask himself if Galileo might be more maneuverable than Odyssey . . . And that bird could move! Odyssey's maneuverability rating ranked right up there with those ships that were specially appointed to combat certain frequent hostile visitors to the Union. Those response ships were capable of hairpin turning, even at full impulse, and throw down enough fire to make anyone who watched the in-flight footage want to laugh, and feel sorry for those visitors! Aaen's gut told him this crew would soon know Galileo's true capabilities. He was as excited as he was nervous to learn more about this technologically marvelous beauty—

The recording directed him to the next screen, Docking Control. This appeared simple enough. In the center of the screen was a white outline of the side of the ship. Beneath the outline were twin, opposite-facing "L"-shaped clamps extending from the bottom of the hull into twin directionally-opposing black crevices in the shuttle bay. A single white rectangular button on the bottom-center of the screen read "Raise Docking Clamps". As instructed, he clicked it. The clamps inched together, and then rose into the hull. The button changed to "Lower Docking Clamps". He clicked the button, and then the docking clamps lowered and fit back into place.

The next screen was Navigation Control. He couldn't help but raised his eyebrows at this part of his job. This screen featured a detailed graphical look at space through a square readout with a white "+" shape extending to all four sides of the readout. At the moment, it was still in the center of the square readout over an as-yet unidentified nebula. On the right-hand-side of the screen, there was a small rectangular space with a typing cursor blinking on the left end. Below the rectangular typing space were two blue buttons with dark text, "Clear" and "Calculate Course." The recording instructed him to type in "Earth." He almost wanted to burst out laughing since Galileo was docked in Voyager's shuttle bay at the moment, and this crew's mission was going to take them in the nearly-opposite direction. He reminded himself this was just training and followed the instructions; then he was instructed to click "Calculate Course." The square readout on the left was immediately set in motion, as was a flurry of what appeared to be flowing binary code directly below and gradually extended to the bottom of the screen like a laundry list.

Aaen noted to the left of the "Clear" and "Calculate Course" buttons were three rectangular fields similar to the one that enabled him to type-in a particular destination for automatic general navigation. Each field contained a letter on the left-end, "X," "Y" and "Z," below each of these fields was a corresponding field. A light-blue dot rested next to the "X" field.

The left readout finished moving, and three sets of coordinates appeared on the screen. Aaen's attention was directed to a small digital calculator-like numeric keypad with a small curved arrow in the lower-right-hand corner of the keypad. First, Aaen was directed to click the numbers displayed in the "X" field, and then click the curved arrow button. Then, repeat this process for "Y" and "Z," and then click the curved arrow button again. All three fields were sequentially quickly highlighted in white, then at the bottom of the screen another indicator read, "COURSE SET."

The next screen was Engine Control. Aaen thought he had seen it all from the previous missions he had participated in as a member of the crew. Galileo's impulse engine controls were nearly identical in appearance to the Voyager's. A horizontal blue-and-black gauge lined the top of the screen with numerical indicators incrementally along a track of speed increment indicators, above a graphic of the Galileo's twin glowing Mark-VIIII translight drive nacelles. Galileo's translight capable, Aaen authoritatively noted, sitting upright in his seat, admiring with a grin at the "Translight 9.95" in the upper-right-hand corner of the screen. On the bottom of the screen, a similar series of meters also starting with "Full Stop." Yeah, I guess that would be important. These meters were vertical, positioned on the right-hand-side of the screen, and pertained to the Mark-VII impulse engines whose graphic on the opposite side of the screen suggested what they look like when they are revving at full power, judging by the bright, light-blue aura blasting from the image of the shuttle's impulse manifolds. Aaen marveled at the sight, and recalled most shuttles typically only run with Mark-II or Mark-III impulse drives, and most other shuttles were larger than Galileo, and therefore offered engineers more room to work with. Galileo had more dynamic speed capabilities, 1/3 Impulse, 1/4 Impulse, 1/2, 3/4, Full, Emergency . . . and Destructive. The recording stated Emergency Impulse is faster than its Full predecessor and would destroy the impulse manifolds in 60 seconds. 30 in the case of Destructive Impulse. 'Use either with great caution . . .' Let's hope we won't have to, Aaen silently replied. Galileo could either use Translight, or Impulse, non-consecutively. He felt an itch to see what happened when any of the speed controls were selected. He clicked on the button for Translight1, watching a thick yellow line extend from "Full Stop" to the selected speed so quickly he nearly missed the sight. He clicked Translight Two . . . then Translight Five . . . then Translight Nine. If the line moved as quickly as she could respond . . . Aaen grinned, admiring the two Translight coolant tanks in the lower-left-hand corner whose contents were represented by blue-green lines similar to the speed meters. To the immediate right of the coolant tanks were the heat gauges. Aaen noted the faster the shuttle was traveling, the more quickly they heated up. As a precaution, he clicked "Full Stop" on the Impulse and Translight drive engines.

The next screen was the last, Translight Core. Aaen quickly scanned the screen and took a deep breath to relieve the sudden-onset anxiety from realizing what he was enabled to do with these controls, were the shuttle not in Training Mode.

The upper-right-hand side of the screen featured a graphic of the Galileo's translight drive core: a tall, metal orifice with a bright, gleaming center extending from the top to the bottom of its metallic housing in the engineering compartment. Sucker looked mean as heck and looked like it was putting out a comparable amount of power as a ship just big enough for Galileo to dock with. A single button read "Activate," whereas a second button on the bottom center of the screen read "EMERGENCY EJECT". The recording told him this button could only be used after the Captain and First Officer gave their personal command authorization code to him as the ship's Helmsman. Once the core is ejected, the shuttle will experience a complete power failure—including to life support—and everyone on board will die from oxygen deprivation in 60 seconds, or freeze to death from lack of heat if the translight core is ejected before switching auxiliary batteries. But that much is the Operations Officer's job. For some reason, Aaen nodded acknowledgment.

Well, that's all, Helm. The recording concluded. Good luck on your mission. You may now stop this recording, remove your headphones and standby for further assistance. He was fast to do just that, putting his headphones next to his computer monitor and relished the sound of the engines' lowly revving as they started up, and the air circulation system's subtle hiss. Or was the revving because of the Voyager? he asked himself in silence. Could they be setting course and going to translight? Maybe. Galileo was still in training mode, which meant anything Aaen did with the shuttle's engines wasn't official in real-time according the main computer, which he guessed hadn't been activated yet. The whole point and purpose of training mode was to learn without doing. After all, jumping to maximum translight as practice with the shuttle bay door down . . . yeah.

A male enlisted man wearing all-black clothing quickly entered the cabin, "Do you have any questions about your station, Commander?"

Aaen turned his head, "No. That'll be all." Petty Officer? The enlisted man's rank wasn't evident anywhere on his uniform. Aaen wondered if that was on purpose for secrecy's sake because of the fact the enlisted man happened to be assigned to help with the training for this ship? Maybe, he told himself. Who knows? Aaen didn't bother asking, nor did he try to mentally investigate the logic behind such an unofficially official policy. As long as Aaaen was called by his rank as though by someone of junior-rank, or specifically called 'Sir', he didn't care enough about the de-facto fine print. Aaen briefly recalled he was getting closer and closer to flag rank, and would at that point—at the very least—mean an increased likelihood of first choice of ship choice and then subsequently job choice, or be given an opportunity of any choice of big-picture command he wanted, whether over an entire fleet, or a particular ship . . . he donned an mental grin about what that could mean, but he focused his attention on his immediate job as the Galileo's Helmsman. He recalled what an opportunity this was! 

The enlisted man took the recording and the headset and then stepped out of the cabin into the shuttle bay's darkness and out of sight.

Aaen looked over his shoulder at the rest of the crew. Tactical finished his recording next and handed it to the same enlisted man who asked him the same question. He asked a question about the shuttle's cannons and sub-system targeting. The answer was provided quietly to not interrupt the rest of the crew's training recordings. Aaen watched as the enlisted man pointed out details on different areas of the screen and verbally explaining this or that technical detail. The Lieutenant nodded acknowledgment then his recording was taken off the ship.

Lieutenant-Commander Jensen's recording was taken next. The Lieutenant-Commander had no further questions. She looked around at Aaen, then at Tactical, with a surprised and excited look.

Lieutenant Mason looked at Aaen and Lieutenant-Commander Jensen and each quietly and enthusiastically exchanged details about their respective job assignments.

Commander Jonathan finished his recording next and surrendered it. "Woah!"

All attention focused on him as the Captain finished her recording, and it was quickly taken off the ship by the same enlisted man.

"What?" Captain Maxon asked Commander Jonathan.

"This things sensors—both short and long-range . . . Wow!"

"How good are they?" Aaen asked.

"Our sensors; we can detect and track Voyager's course for a full sector. More if we put a little more power in the sensors."

Aaen was shocked and surprised at the announcement.

Captain Maxon looked around at Aaen, "How fast can we go?" she leaned toward him.

"Captain, Galileo could potentially out-run Voyager."

"Are you serious?" Jonathan asked.

"This ship's classification is perfectly justified. I'm pretty sure some of what this thing's equipped with is probably either experimental, or—"

Admiral Carrell crouched inside the hatch to the cabin, looking around as she said, "Captain and crew, training is now over. You are now ready to operate your stations during your mission. However, there's been a . . slight change in your mission's flight plan. According to the bridge—who have been closely monitoring the Neutral Zone since we beamed aboard—there's more Rotelan activity on the part of the border on their side of the Neutral Zone, and their ships keep dropping on and off Voyager's long-range sensors."

"What does that mean?" Aaen asked boldly, emphatically and authoritatively.

"Good question." she looked at him. "It means, Commander, that your launch-zone has changed, slightly."

Great, Aaen thought. The Rotelan have always had a reputation for treating darn-near every situation like a giant Chess game—and a freakin' cunning one at that, every time. This move was yet another piece inched across the 200-below playing field, as it were. Their mainstream cloaking technology has always given them an edge that only guarantee's a struggle for anyone outside of Rotelan space to track. Sometimes it didn't matter if you could track their ships or not. One had to be extremely careful when dealing with the Rotelan , even in the recreation room their ships were both cunning, elusive, and, sometimes . . . deadly. Admiral Carrell's announcement was only a confirmation of the first two points of otherwise common-knowledge.

"Voyager has been redirected to another area on our border about five-light-years from your original launch-zone. Our border tachyon detection nets haven't gone off, so it's reasonable to assume they're not trying to invade our space—"

"Yet," Aaen interjected.

"Right," Admiral Carrell quipped, "so it is absolutely crucial that you are ready to launch as soon as Voyager signals a 'Go.' That will come through the Operations Officer, here," Admiral Carrell pointed to her. "As of right now, assume the Rotelans haven't decided on a target for the test of the Module Cloaking Device. And remember, your mission is to make sure they don't get a chance to use that device. Be careful as you start for their space. As you can understand, Command isn't going to bother trying to negotiate for your legal entering of the Neutral Zone—much less crossing their border lines into their space. As far as we can tell, they don't know about you or your ship, and they don't know your coming. Try to keep it that way. You'll likely live longer."

Aaen felt like someone dropped a cold blanket on his head, and he felt a swelling of patriotic responsibility on his part to make sure they didn't run into . . . anyone—"

"Before I go, does anyone have any-additional-questions?" she looked around quickly, carefully at each crew member, stopping at Lieutenant Mason. "Yes, Lieutenant."

"About the stealth system, how does tha—"

"You're stealth system is automatically activated after you activate your main computer and reset all computers to Flight-Operational-Mode. After you launch, and Voyager or your ship translights away, you're a ghost story. The important point to keep in mind is if you get too close to another ship, there is a significantly higher probability of your being detected. Crew, remember, this is essentially a black operation, and that this shuttlecraft is unique in all of its technological functions and capabilities. Whether or not you survive this mission is entirely dependent not on all of the highly-advanced—and possibly experimental—technology in front of you or otherwise integrated into your ship, but on how well you work together as a team when using all of the technology you have at your disposal. Then again, you probably already know and understand that much, so, without further delay . . . captain and crew, good luck." she said directly. Grinning, she continued, "We'll hopefully be seeing you all again, soon. Captain, you'll be needing this." Admiral Carrell handed her a thin white binder whose cover featured the Galileo's crest, ship name, and registry in large black bolded lettering. 

Aaen watched through the corner of his eye as Admiral Carrell stepped back, off the loading ramp, then with a command to a control terminal outside, the boarding ramp to gradually rose until the hatch fit into its frame.

A subtle, abrupt series of metallic clicks told the crew the cabin had been sealed. This was followed by a few anxious gasps from a few other crew members.

Going behind enemy lines . . . Aaen enthusiastically looked at the Galileo's crest on the main viewscreen with an excited, determined grin. 

Version 3, updated 01/24/2018:

Admiral Carrell browsed through each dossier, stopping at the second in the stack. Aaen also noticed there was a stack of finely-folded, darkly-colored uniforms resting on the center of the port translight nacelle. He wondered which one was designated for they would either be chosen as the crew's captain, or if it would be up for selection by a member of the crew.

Aaen silently yearned for the ship's center seat. It was, after all, what he was trained for, fundamentally. Besides, who wouldn't want to command such a ship? he silently asked himself. He thought back to all those recreation room simulations, all of which were designed to test individual command and character traits to determine suitability for future consideration. They had to have meant something for him and his career. The simulation instructors always had good things to say about his performance, putting it mildly, his gut agreed with his head on that point. His forehead felt warm suddenly, a sensation that traveled down his face to the base of his throat. The instructors' always reviewed his ability to not just command, but to unite the crew into becoming a more coherent and functional team. Aaen recalled having been cited as being able to recognize the difference between a crew and an otherwise ordinary group of people trying to accomplish a common goal was comparable to the difference between a bus full of people on their way to school, and a professional orchestra that travelled by the same means. At times, he observed other command-hopefuls with other trainees on the sidelines to better learn others' strengths and weaknesses, and perhaps modify one's command strategies and tactics based on any self-determined need to adopt what seemed to work compared and in contrast to something one may have done that lead to a variably different result.

"Captain. .Marissa,"

Marissa—a short, dark-haired, Caucasian young woman about five-foot-five-inches in height—raised her hand for a moment in acknowledgment. Aaen silently protested her decision, but held back and respected it, given the chain of command and the bridge position assignment system that was in place. He felt jealous, and envious of the fact, but stayed in the at-ease stance and observed the proceedings.

"—Ah, you are the senior-ranking crew member for this flight. I'm assuming you want to captain the Galileo?"

Marissa paused for a moment, then directly and authoritatively replied, "Yes, Admiral."

Admiral Carrell turned slightly, took the first uniform off the top of the stack and tossed it to her.

Marissa donned her uniform in seconds.

Aaen curiously eyed the assigned uniform and noted the uniform's design was very different than any other he had seen before. If the crew were to be captured, the captors probably wouldn't recognize the crew for who they really were. Granted, there are the hull markings along the side of the hull: the red delta shape on its side with two long red streaks implying speedily moving forward, and as always the ship's identifier and registry, but one could assume they were faked given the little tidbits of misinformation already evident in such an event . . . Aaen grinned for a moment, surprised at a minor but sharp swell of curiosity in his mind as to what might actually happen, but pushed the idea out of his mind and focused on the more exciting aspect of being part of a crew on this ship . . . working under the radar, so-to-speak. He optimistically, silently asked himself about how the mission might go, and what he and the rest of this crew were about to accomplish, regardless of who was in the center seat. No mission was all about any one particular crew member. Success of the mission, in general, Aaen knew, was always dependent on the sum of the collective's efforts. His mind flooded excitedly with ideas and possibilities as to what might happen in the crew's mission in the next few hours. He liked the notion, and the flurry of action possibilities his mind was generating. He started subtly grinning, and decided he couldn't wait to get on-board.

"Commander Jonathan?"

"I'll be the First Officer for this mission." Jonathan nodded as he was given his uniform.

Aaen's name was called next. He wasn't immediately sure which job he wanted for this assignment. The Captain was now no longer just a rank, and then the second-in-command job had already been assumed.

Aaen struggled to decide whether or not he wanted to be responsible for defending the shuttle should the crew come under attack? Or if he wanted to function as the pilot . . . Aaen silently asked himself how good of a shot was everyone else on the crew, whether one was ordered to target engines, shields, or something that would make a bigger, crippling or outright destructive boom, if need-be. Galileo looked as though she were certainly capable of getting a bolt through a shielded area of a target's hull if she needed to . . . They were both very tempting options . . . so he knee-jerked his hand into the air in acknowledgment and replied, "I'll fly the shuttle, Admiral."

Aaen was given his uniform, and he donned it quickly and anxiously. For a moment, he was concerned that the rest of the crew and Admiral Carrell were looking at him wondering why he was acting so sharply and jittery. He quickly realized they weren't.

Next was a Lieutenant-Commander Jensen (who didn't appear to be related to another Jensen Aaen had worked with before), and then a Lieutenant Mason. The Lieutenant-Commander chose Tactical, and then the Lieutenant was circumstantially decidedly appointed to Operations.

Now was the moment of truth.

"Alright, captain and crew. Step inside." Admiral Carrell gestured for the crew to proceed through the hatch.

Aaen stopped to allow the captain and first officer to enter first. Aaen was third in line. The air felt cool, and electrified; Aaen guessed the air was being pumped through the hissing ventilation system that Aaen guessed was coming through the ceiling and sides of the cabin. The attributed the electrifying sensation to the fact no-one in the crew had ever expected—much less anticipated—this auspicious opportunity. The silent rhetorical question rolling through Aaen's mind like a watermelon rolling around in the backseat of a car was whether or not this opportunity is an isolated one. His gut told him no. He told himself to stay focused, and was awestruck at what came next.

Admiral Carrell pointed out each officer to their stations. The aft computer stations rested on a white triangular platform. The platforms were mounted on a cylindrical beam extending about three feet from the floor. Aaen took his seat quickly and pulled himself towards his station. The Helm and Operations' computers were built into an upright white angled desk mount below the adjacent 24-inch main viewscreen. He turned around to watch Tactical and Operations enter the bridge and take their seats.

Aaen sat in the front-right, Operations was to his immediate left about three feet away. The Captain sat behind them in the center of the bridge, and then behind her to her left was the First Officer. Tactical sat directly behind Aaen.

"Crew, the computer equipment that you will be using will be much different than what you've used in the past on other ships in the fleet, and you'll find these computer controls and other equipment are significantly more sophisticated. In front of each of you is a recording that will walk you through how to operate this . . . unique shuttlecraft. Put on the headphones, push play and listen to and follow along with the entirety of your recording. Your recording will be collected when you're finished. Begin."

Aaen followed the instructions. Hello, and good day, Helm . . . Aaen didn't know who the female voice was that was speaking to him on his recording. As instructed, he clicked a command on the center of the screen then typed his name and confirmed with the shuttle's main computer. He was enabled to sign into his assigned computer station, and already, the screen gradually changed. This was already turning out to be very different than prior missions on the other main ships of the fleet. Admiral Carrell really wasn't kidding about this shuttle.

Aaen was wide-eyed at the sight of the looks of the controls. The recording introduced the login screen, and then transitioned him to the first set of computer controls—

What the, he thought wide-eyed, eyeing the gauges, meters, and other sophisticated technical information on the screen. This was no run-of-the-mill shuttlecraft, he decided. The Galileo was absolutely unique. He had never seen such a technological configuration for a shuttle. No wonder the very fact of her existence is classified so deeply! Aaen's attention was brought to a circular controller divided between different multi-dimensional directions: Forward, Aft, Starboard, Port, Starboard-Yaw, Port-Yaw, Starboard Roll, Port Roll . . . and the technical configuration was, well—he was instructed to click on a few of thrusters. He clicked a few of them, and watched as three of the directional indicators in the upper-left-corner of this screen shifted so sharply, and the changes were so smooth! There was virtually no delay, at least none that he could detect. He started to ask himself if Galileo might be more maneuverable than Odyssey . . . And that bird could move! Odyssey's maneuverability rating ranked right up there with those ships that were specially appointed to combat certain frequent hostile visitors to the Union. Those response ships were capable of hairpin turning, even at full impulse, and throw down enough fire to make anyone who watched the in-flight footage want to laugh, and feel sorry for those visitors! Aaen's gut told him this crew would soon know Galileo's true capabilities. He was as excited as he was nervous to learn more about this technologically marvelous beauty—

The recording directed him to the next screen, Navigation Control. He couldn't help but raised his eyebrows at this part of his job. This screen featured a detailed graphical look at space through a square readout with a white "+" shape extending to all four sides of the readout. At the moment, it was still in the center of the square readout over an as-yet unidentified nebula. On the right-hand-side of the screen, there was a small rectangular space with a typing cursor blinking on the left end. Below the rectangular typing space were two blue buttons with dark text, "Clear" and "Calculate Course." The recording instructed him to type in "Earth." He almost wanted to burst out laughing since Galileo was docked in Voyager's shuttle bay at the moment, and this crew's mission was going to take them in the nearly-opposite direction. He reminded himself this was just training and followed the instructions; then he was instructed to click "Calculate Course." The square readout on the left was immediately set in motion, as was a flurry of what appeared to be flowing binary code directly below and gradually extended to the bottom of the screen like a laundry list.

Aaen noted to the left of the "Clear" and "Calculate Course" buttons were three rectangular fields similar to the one that enabled him to type-in a particular destination for automatic general navigation. Each field contained a letter on the left-end, "X," "Y" and "Z," below each of these fields was a corresponding field. A light-blue dot rested next to the "X" field.

The left readout finished moving, and three sets of coordinates appeared on the screen. Aaen's attention was directed to a small digital calculator-like numeric keypad with a small curved arrow in the lower-right-hand corner of the keypad. First, Aaen was directed to click the numbers displayed in the "X" field, and then click the curved arrow button. Then, repeat this process for "Y" and "Z," and then click the curved arrow button again. All three fields were sequentially quickly highlighted in white, then at the bottom of the screen another indicator read, "COURSE SET."

The next screen was Engine Control. Aaen thought he had seen it all from the previous missions he had participated in as a member of the crew. Galileo's impulse engine controls were nearly identical in appearance to the Voyager's. A horizontal blue-and-black gauge lined the top of the screen with numerical indicators incrementally along a track of speed increment indicators, above a graphic of the Galileo's twin glowing Mark-VIIII translight drive nacelles. Galileo's translight capable, Aaen authoritatively noted, sitting upright in his seat, admiring with a grin at the "Translight 9.95" in the upper-right-hand corner of the screen. On the bottom of the screen, a similar series of meters also starting with "Full Stop." Yeah, I guess that would be important. These meters were vertical, positioned on the right-hand-side of the screen, and pertained to the Mark-VII impulse engines whose graphic on the opposite side of the screen suggested what they look like when they are revving at full power, judging by the bright, light-blue aura blasting from the image of the shuttle's impulse manifolds. Aaen marveled at the sight, and recalled most shuttles typically only run with Mark-II or Mark-III impulse drives, and most other shuttles were larger than Galileo, and therefore offered engineers more room to work with. Galileo had more dynamic speed capabilities, 1/3 Impulse, 1/4 Impulse, 1/2, 3/4, Full, Emergency . . . and Destructive. The recording stated Emergency Impulse is faster than its Full predecessor and would destroy the impulse manifolds in 60 seconds. 30 in the case of Destructive Impulse. 'Use either with great caution . . .' Let's hope we won't have to, Aaen silently replied. Galileo could either use Translight, or Impulse, non-consecutively. He felt an itch to see what happened when any of the speed controls were selected. He clicked on the button for Translight 1, watching a thick yellow line extend from "Full Stop" to the selected speed so quickly he nearly missed the sight. He clicked Translight Two . . . then Translight Five . . . then Translight Nine. If the line moved as quickly as she could respond . . . Aaen grinned, admiring the two Translight coolant tanks in the lower-left-hand corner whose contents were represented by blue-green lines similar to the speed meters. To the immediate right of the coolant tanks were the heat gauges. Aaen noted the faster the shuttle was traveling, the more quickly they heated up. As a precaution, he clicked "Full Stop" on the Impulse and Translight drive engines.

The next screen was the last, Translight Core. Aaen quickly scanned the screen and took a deep breath to relieve the sudden-onset anxiety from realizing what he was enabled to do with these controls, were the shuttle not in Training Mode.

The upper-right-hand side of the screen featured a graphic of the Galileo's Translight drive core: a tall, metal orifice with a bright, gleaming center extending from the top to the bottom of its metallic housing in the engineering compartment. Sucker looked mean as heck and looked like it was putting out a comparable amount of power as a ship just big enough for Galileo to dock with. A single button read "Activate," whereas a second button on the bottom center of the screen read "EMERGENCY EJECT". The recording told him this button could only be used after the Captain and First Officer gave their personal command authorization code to him as the ship's Helmsman. Once the core is ejected, the shuttle will experience a complete power failure—including to life support—and everyone on board will die from oxygen deprivation in 60 seconds, or freeze to death from lack of heat if the translight core is ejected before switching auxiliary batteries. But that much is the Operations Officer's job. For some reason, Aaen nodded acknowledgment.

Well, that's all, Helm. The recording concluded. Good luck on your mission. You may now stop this recording, remove your headphones and standby for further assistance. He was fast to do just that, putting his headphones next to his computer monitor and relished the sound of the engines' lowly revving as they started up, and the air circulation system's subtle hiss. Or was the revving because of the Voyager? he asked himself in silence. Could they be setting course and going to translight? Maybe. Galileo was still in training mode, which meant anything Aaen did with the shuttle's engines wasn't official in real-time according the main computer, which he guessed hadn't been activated yet. The whole point and purpose of training mode was to learn without doing. After all, jumping to maximum translight as practice with the shuttle bay door down . . . yeah.

A male enlisted man wearing all-black clothing quickly entered the cabin, "Do you have any questions about your station, Commander?"

Aaen turned his head, "No. That'll be all." Petty Officer? The enlisted man's rank wasn't evident anywhere on his uniform. Aaen wondered if that was on purpose for secrecy's sake because of the fact the enlisted man happened to be assigned to help with the training for this ship? Maybe, he told himself. Who knows? Aaen didn't bother asking, nor did he try to mentally investigate the logic behind such an unofficially official policy. As long as Aaaen was called by his rank as though by someone of junior-rank, or specifically called 'Sir', he didn't care enough about the de-facto fine print. Aaen briefly recalled he was getting closer and closer to flag rank, and would at that point—at the very least—mean an increased likelihood of first choice of ship choice and then subsequently job choice, or be given an opportunity of any choice of big-picture command he wanted, whether over an entire fleet, or a particular ship . . . he donned an mental grin about what that could mean, but he focused his attention on his immediate job as the Galileo's Helmsman. He recalled what an opportunity this was!  

The enlisted man took the recording and the headset and then stepped out of the cabin into the shuttle bay's darkness and out of sight.

Aaen looked over his shoulder at the rest of the crew. Tactical finished his recording next and handed it to the same enlisted man who asked him the same question. He asked a question about the shuttle's cannons and sub-system targeting. The answer was provided quietly to not interrupt the rest of the crew's training recordings. Aaen watched as the enlisted man pointed out details on different areas of the screen and verbally explaining this or that technical detail. The Lieutenant nodded acknowledgment then his recording was taken off the ship.

Lieutenant-Commander Jensen's recording was taken next. The Lieutenant-Commander had no further questions. She looked around at Aaen, then at Tactical, with a surprised and excited look.

Lieutenant Mason looked at Aaen and Lieutenant-Commander Jensen and each quietly and enthusiastically exchanged details about their respective job assignments.

Commander Jonathan finished his recording next and surrendered it. "Woah!"

All attention focused on him as the Captain finished her recording, and it was quickly taken off the ship by the same enlisted man.

"What?" Captain Maxon asked Commander Jonathan.

"This things sensors—both short and long-range . . . Wow!"

"How good are they?" Aaen asked.

"Our sensors; we can detect and track Voyager's course for a full sector. More if we put a little more power in the sensors."

Aaen was shocked and surprised at the announcement.

Captain Maxon looked around at Aaen, "How fast can we go?" she leaned toward him.

"Captain, Galileo could potentially out-run Voyager."

"Are you serious?" Jonathan asked.

"This ship's classification is perfectly justified. I'm pretty sure some of what this thing's equipped with is probably either experimental, or—"

Admiral Carrell crouched inside the hatch to the cabin, looking around as she said, "Captain and crew, training is now over. You are now ready to operate your stations during your mission. However, there's been a . . slight change in your mission's flight plan. According to the bridge—who have been closely monitoring the Neutral Zone since we beamed aboard—there's more Rotelan activity on the part of the border on their side of the Neutral Zone, and their ships keep dropping on and off Voyager's long-range sensors."

"What does that mean?" Aaen asked boldly, emphatically and authoritatively.

"Good question." she looked at him. "It means, Commander, that your launch-zone has changed, slightly."

Great, Aaen thought. The Rotelan have always had a reputation for treating darn-near every situation like a giant Chess game—and a freakin' cunning one at that, every time. This move was yet another piece inched across the 200-below playing field, as it were. Their mainstream cloaking technology has always given them an edge that only guarantee's a struggle for anyone outside of Rotelan space to track. Sometimes it didn't matter if you could track their ships or not. One had to be extremely careful when dealing with the Rotelans, even in the recreation room their ships were both cunning, elusive, and, sometimes . . . deadly. Admiral Carrell's announcement was only a confirmation of the first two points of otherwise common-knowledge.

"Voyager has been redirected to another area on our border about five-light-years from your original launch-zone. Our border tachyon detection nets haven't gone off, so it's reasonable to assume they're not trying to invade our space—"

"Yet," Aaen interjected.

"Right," Admiral Carrell quipped, "so it is absolutely crucial that you are ready to launch as soon as Voyager signals a 'Go.' That will come through the Operations Officer, here," Admiral Carrell pointed to her. "As of right now, assume the Rotelans haven't decided on a target for the test of the Module Cloaking Device. And remember, your mission is to make sure they don't get a chance to use that device. Be careful as you start for their space. As you can understand, Command isn't going to bother trying to negotiate for your legal entering of the Neutral Zone—much less crossing their border lines into their space. As far as we can tell, they don't know about you or your ship, and they don't know your coming. Try to keep it that way. You'll likely live longer."

Aaen felt like someone dropped a cold blanket on his head, and he felt a swelling of patriotic responsibility on his part to make sure they didn't run into . . . anyone—"

"Before I go, does anyone have any-additional-questions?" she looked around quickly, carefully at each crew member, stopping at Lieutenant Mason. "Yes, Lieutenant."

"About the stealth system, how does tha—"

"You're stealth system is automatically activated after you activate your main computer and reset all computers to Flight-Operational-Mode. After you launch, and Voyager or your ship translights away, you're a ghost story. The important point to keep in mind is if you get too close to another ship, there is a significantly higher probability of your being detected. Crew, remember, this is essentially a black operation, and that this shuttlecraft is unique in all of its technological functions and capabilities. Whether or not you survive this mission is entirely dependent not on all of the highly-advanced—and possibly experimental—technology in front of you or otherwise integrated into your ship, but on how well you work together as a team when using all of the technology you have at your disposal. Then again, you probably already know and understand that much."

Yeah, probably. Aaen silently agreed—

"Also, everyone, please remember this is a black operation. Maintain radio silence with the rest of the fleet until you return to the Voyager. Their captain and first officer are the only ones who know you're on board, use your ship's own short and long-range sensors to track Voyager's movements until you notice it's time for launch. When you depart their ship, if anything, you'll look like a simple innocuous sensor blip." 

Aaen nodded acknowledgment. 

"So, without further delay . . . captain and crew, good luck." she said directly. Grinning, she continued, "We'll hopefully be seeing you all again, soon."Admiral Carrell handed Maxon a thin white binder whose cover featured the Galileo's crest, ship name, and registry in large black bolded lettering. 

Aaen watched through the corner of his eye as Admiral Carrell stepped back, off the loading ramp, then with a command to a control terminal outside, the boarding ramp to gradually rose until the hatch fit into its frame. 

A subtle, abrupt series of metallic clicks told the crew the cabin had been sealed. This was followed by a few anxious gasps from a few other crew members.

Going behind enemy lines . . . Aaen enthusiastically looked at the Galileo's crest on the main viewscreen with an excited, determined grin. 

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

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Scorpion Relay - Part Four

"We have no idea how many ships the Rotelans have on their side of the Dark Zone, or their border, or what steps they're taking to safeguard the site where we know the Module Cloaking Device is being stored, for now. However, thanks to our long-range spy probes—"
Magellan, Aaen silently interrupted. 
Carrell continued, "we've noticed an uptick in the use of their cloaking technology due to the elevated levels of tachyon radiation. Make no mistake, crew—they're out there. We still have spies on the inside who are working to get us as much more information as possible. They will send us what they have, and then we will forward that to you on an encrypted channel that only Galileo's communications array is capable of receiving."

Aaen raised his eyebrows and subtly nodded at what he just heard. There was some degree of assurance to what this crew had just heard. He started silently asking himself if the Rotelans had spies that were telling their government what we do and do not know about the situation. His mind started to run with silent questions about possibilities, all-of-which he quickly decided to immediately ignore, but still consider, considering the briefing so far didn't explicitly rule out the possibilities. Could this be some kind of political or military game . . . or a test? Trying to see just how capable the Union is, or how apparently aware we are of what they really are or are not doing? Could they be trying to see what the Union's got under the hood that they wouldn't otherwise find just flying through space? Aaen told himself to stay focused. They would be taking just as huge a risk starting a war if they did have spies planted in sensitive areas here, and they may not have the means of engaging the Union in a large-scale conflict. He guessed only time would tell that much. What Intelligence was apparently proposing to the Union High Counsel seemed to be the most tactically-sound plan. Aaen felt excited to hear more.

"You will have to find some way of breaching the Rotelan border, undetected, and then get to the planet where the military research base where the device is being stored. Your objective is to enter orbit of the planet, find the Module Cloaking Device, beam it aboard your ship, and then get outta there as fast as you possibly can. . . Any questions?"

Aaen couldn't help but ask the new question that was now on the tip of his tongue, "Admiral, is Intelligence suggesting the Module Cloaking Device can interface with Galileo?"

"We have no-idea. We suspect it might not because, from what we know, the Module Cloaking Device draws a lot more power from the equipped ship than the cloaking technology currently employed by the greater majority of the Rotelan fleet at this time—which, needless to say, is already almost impossible to detect as-it-is. Supposedly, the Module Cloaking Device is designed for what may be purposed for the first wave of Dreadnought-class warbirds. While this is unconfirmed, it remains a theoretical possibility. Our spies are looking into that possibility to see if there's any confirmable. As of right now, that remains only a possibility. Until further notice, all we know for sure is that the Module Cloaking Device exists, and must not be allowed to be used against the Union."

Aaen nodded subtly a few times again in agreement. Of the other two male officers and two female officers comprising the crew, Aaen sensed they were each paying close attention to Admiral Carrell, with some of their brain power invested in contemplation of tactics and strategy.

"Admiral, is a diplomatic solution being explored?" a male crew member sitting to Aaen's left asked.

She briefly pointed at him, "Good question, Lieutenant. The answer is no. As far as the Rotelan seem to think we're concerned, we have no clue the Module Cloaking Device exists, and are taking no action. We need the de-facto status quo to stay that way if this mission is to have the greatest odds for success."

. . . the 'odds', Aaen noted. This mention suggested to him that the Rotelan fleet is undoubtedly aware of the Module Cloaking Device, and—he guessed—undoubtedly taking comparably subtle measures to safeguard it until it can be 'field tested'. The next wave of silent rhetorical questions centered around what Aaen reasoned was going to be a military test. The match on the situation had already been lit by the manufacturer and was waiting to be held under the de-facto situational fuse. His gut churned with what that might mean. . . If they are planning on a military test of this technology, then they could try to use a dreadnought, if they had built one for this purpose. If they did their homework on past conflicts they had with the Union thoroughly enough, they may have figured out a proverbial loophole in our combat tactics and strategies, and a way to exploit them, if they existed. Then again, if they had a dreadnought, then any apparent combat tactic or strategy flaw—or lack thereof—wouldn't matter. Dreadnoughts were made for but one purpose . . . .

"Crew, before we get you aboard your ship, there is another detail you need to be particularly aware of: you will not have any backup for this mission."

Suddenly the room got a lot cooler, Aaen noted.

"If you are caught, or captured, the Union will disavow any knowledge of your existence, and the sanctioning of this mission. Get to that planet as fast as you can, beam the Module Cloaking Device aboard your ship, copy every bit of data they have on it, wipe their databanks clean of the data, and then get outta there."

"Won't they detect an intrusion into their computer systems?" the female crew member Admiral Carrell referred to as Captain sitting on the other side of the table, asked.

"If they detect you, elude and evade them as much as possible. If you can make it back to Union space with the Module Cloaking Device onboard, the fleet will be diverted to help protect you. For the purposes of this mission, you will register on the fleet's sensors as a Danube-class Runabout."

There was a silence in the room.

"Any other questions?"

Aaen looked around, then looked at Admiral Carrell.

"Commander?"

Aaen gasped before speaking, "I have an idea how we can get through the Rotelan border. It'll be tricky, but I think there's a way through."

"Good. You can discuss that with your crew en-route. Crew, Command has full confidence in each of your individual abilities to complete this mission successfully. It's going to be dangerous, but, then again, all clandestine operations are. Okay, please stand up and push in your chairs and follow me."

Another command to the computer replaced the images with the Galileo's crest. The crew formed a single file line behind Admiral Carrell as she pushed another command to release the security locks throughout the room, then opened the large door and then led them out and left through a brief maze of darkened, empty corridors until they reached a tall black personnel transporter unit. Admiral Carrell beamed away first. Aaen and the male lieutenant beamed away next to find Admiral Carrell gesturing to stand next to a familiar wall. The wall bore a black technical diagram showing the saucer-section of the Voyager. The lights suggested the ship was on alert-condition-green, though the emotional atmosphere suggested differently. There were no Voyager crew members in sight, but they were undoubtedly on duty elsewhere, judging by the echoing sound of intercom speech, probably working under the ruse there was some problem in this part of the ship that was being resolved.

The rest of the crew followed over the course of a minute.

Admiral Carrell led the crew through another brief maze of corridors—Aaen wasn't familiar with this route, nor was the rest of the crew, as far as he could tell—and then down a tall ramp to set of larger twin doors. She put her right palm on a small Plexiglas plate on one of the doors. Her hand was scanned by a flat white beam of light, and then the right-hand-side door swung open with a mechanical hiss.

Wherever they were being led, there was a dark shadow cast from the next room onto the corridor. There was an odd mechanical purring sound coming from the other side of the doorway. Aaen reasoned they were either taken on an alternative route to the Voyager's shuttle bay . . . or maybe the next room over was a shuttle bay that wasn't strictly-speaking on any of Voyager's official engineering diagrams . . . .

Admiral Carrell entered first, and then the rest of the crew in order. Aaen was second in line and peeked around the narrow section of the visible corner. He noticed immediately this shuttle bay was about twenty meters taller, and deeper than Voyager's other shuttle bays. But what more quickly caught his attention was a geometrically-perfect, flat, angled, dark-grey hull section in the center of the room. As he stepped inside, he noticed wide-eyed the port side of the central box-shaped hull was lined with long twin red lines with a familiar delta shape on the end painted along the side to the adjoining edge of the angled forward hull, and what looked like an opaque black view windows on the forward hull. As he walked to the side of the loose crowd, he felt the air electrify as he eyed the shuttle's port warp nacelle glowing red and blue. On the side of the central hull, a stainless steel metal ramp extended to the floor over the port nacelle.

The mechanical purring sound became more pronounced, as were more fast-paced beeping sounds coming from a tall, narrow open hexagonal cavity in the port-side. The ramp's mirror extended upward like an upper jaw. The cabin was well-lit. Aaen could see a small fine black chair sitting in the center of the cabin on four small wheels and a rubber material with golf-ball-sized holes in it, and a white computer terminal behind the chair and to its right atop a small up-step section of the cabin. Aaen swelled with anticipation and anxiety. The up-step section was thinly carpeted, and the wall was covered in a bumpy foam-based material Aaen couldn't identify. The mechanical purring and the beeping sounds subtly echoed throughout the shuttle bay. Aaen curiously admired the tall, deep darkness just beyond the shuttle's hull. Even its shuttle bay has secrets . . . His subconscious told him the crew was being watched. He ignored the notion out of excitement—turning his attention to Admiral Carrell—to find out what it's like to be inside the bridge! 

"Crew, this is the USS Galileo, mark-five long-range—classified—stealth shuttle craft." Admiral Carrell collected the dossiers one-by-one. Aaen's gut told him it was that time—

*****

Steve H. told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."

DANIEL STORM, a Jordan Foutin eBook, is available for $8.99 at any of these fine online retailers: 

smashwords.com (Remember to like and share!)

apple iBooks (This link is best viewed on iPhone or iPad)

barnesandnoble.com 

scribd.com 

kobo.com

blio.com

Make sure to buy your copy today, and like and share!

Make sure to like the official StormTeam Simulations Facebook page for the latest, including when DANIEL STORM will be available on Amazon.com for Kindle eBook and softcover! Coming soon!

Scorpion Relay - Part Three

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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