Aaen laughed with joy
with the rest of the family sitting around the seven-foot-tall artificial green
Christmas tree adorned with colorful shining ornaments and a glass light-up
star on the top. The carpet was covered in shredded colorful wrapping paper,
the room was filled with family members hugging each other in gratitude for
their exchanges of simple tokens of generosity and gratitude for a long and
difficult year. He reminisced about the developments of the year, then awoke.
He got up, got ready for the day, and then proceeded to the bridge for his command watch.
Undisclosed Location
The four-sided diamond
icon representing the tracking target inched across the 40-inch viewscreen. A
square reticule tracked it along its curved projected flight path. In the
darkness, he subtly sneered and gasped at the blinking multi-colored glares
against his face. He told himself things seemed to be going to plan so far. He
gestured at the screen and shifted his three-fingered hand, changing the track
from 2D to 3D—good. He liked what the tracking data was telling him so far. The
target was traveling at translight factor eight,
he glared, taking a sip from his hot beverage and then rested the container
back in his chair’s cup holder. The hot fluid merely felt faintly warm against
the scarring on the inside of his throat. He angrily scratched his chair’s
leather armrests—the grinding of fingernails against the material sent chills
through the room.
“At their present
speed, the Odyssey is expected to
arrive in two weeks, Admiral,” a 27-year-old male voice said from five feet
over his commanding officer’s right shoulder.
Two weeks. . . “Inform our
assets,” he commanded calmly.
The 27-year-old froze
in place. “Yes, sir. Right away.”
“The rest of the Union fleet doesn’t seem to
be aware of—“
“Never question the enemy’s situational awareness. Always assume they know about you and what
you’re doing that much more than you do at all times. You’ll live longer,” he rubbed the base of his throat, recalling
the reason for the scarring and varying numbness.
“Do you mean to
destroy them, sir?”
The Admiral grinned.
“How many times have they experienced attempts at their destruction—and how
many times have we seen each attempt fail?”
There was a pause.
“ANSWER!” The Admiral
snapped.
The 27-year-old
shuddered and tried to take a breath. “Every time, sir,”
“Correct,” The Admiral
sneered. “That crew has proven to be resourceful, and they’ve only been in
space for about a year or so. Most impressive. We must be careful as we
proceed. The Constitution still stands. They are still a democracy. The Union
is still being perfected.” He gasped, “We will strike at the correct time, but
more still remains to be done before we can take that step.”
A subtle alarm sounded
from over the Admiral’s shoulder.
“Sir, our assets have
acknowledged your signal.”
The response was a
blunt, “Good.”
USSC Odyssey
His bridge had that 'new car'-like smell.
"Captain on the bridge!" Smith declared as he surrendered the center seat to his captain.
“You know that feeling
when you’re being watched?” Smith asked Aaen.
“Yeah,”
Aaen replied, “There are nine people on this ship with only two decks.” He
joked. The crew chuckled. Despite the limited space on the ship, every crew member had their own living quarters.
“No. I mean—like
someone’s watching you from far out. Like you’re being stalked or something.”
Aaen looked over his
shoulder, “Jones, you have anything interesting or unusual on sensors?”
She scanned every
direction twice, then turned her head, “Negative. Except for a few natural
phenomena, sensors are clear.”
Smith’s gut felt like
it was knotting up. He turned his head, “Helm, how far are we from the
destination?”
Wilson checked the
latest navigational data. “Two weeks if we maintain this speed,”
“How far out are we?” Smith asked.
“There are no recorded stars, planets, or other celestial phenomena within sensor range. We're effectively in the interstellar 'boondocks'.”
“Hayes, any comm
traffic we need to know about?” Smith asked.
She turned her head.
“Nope. I’m not getting anything, as a matter of fact. It was buzzing with
chatter a few minutes ago. Nothing noteworthy. Nothing at all now.”
Aaen and Smith looked
puzzled.
“Inbound jamming?”
Aaen asked.
Hayes turned her head.
“Negative. At least not as far as all this equipment’s indicating. Just. .nothing.” She sounded puzzled.
What-the-heck? Aaen
asked himself silently. Something’s not
right. “Get a message to Union Space Fleet Command: tell them where we’re
at and see if we can get any ships to come back us up.” He felt an uneasy knot
forming around his gut about what was ahead.
Hayes nodded and
attempted to carry out the order. Let’s hope this works.
The stars were all but
completely gone from the viewscreen, shrouded in the increasingly chaotic
translight corridor.
Union Intelligence
Agency
Odyssey’s message appeared on
the monitor. The comms officer on duty printed the message and then ran it to
the Director’s office.
The Director put on
his reading glasses as he accepted the message, nodding a ‘thank you’.
The Director sipped
his hot cocoa, reading the message in seconds. The message included a set of
coordinates in deep space. He dropped his glass on his desk without thinking.
The glass shattered to pieces on impact.
The Director activated
a secure intranet email. The template was populated on his Plexiglas computer monitor.
He addressed a message to the Fleet Admiral’s office at Union Space Fleet
Command. The Director further encoded the message on Epsilon-Alpha frequency.
“-NEW MESSAGE-
Received a message
from USSC Odyssey that is dated
today. Coordinates indicate the urgency of attention to the message. High
military interest in this subject. Discussion needed with POTU and Joint
Chiefs. Request for meeting with POTU and Joint Chief’s submitted to needed
party at WH. Our friends and allies need to be alerted to this also. Keep
all subsequent chatter on official secure channels ONLY. Assets will be
alerted. Further to follow. Out.
-Director, UIA
-END MESSAGE-
Union Space Fleet
Command
The UIA message
appeared virtually instantly.
An alert of the
message’s receipt appeared on Fleet Admiral West’s military cell phone, along
with a pop-up meeting calendar invite at the White House on his computer
monitor. The day had gone smoothly so far. The message’s encoding alone spoke
volumes about the sensitivity of its contents. Shoot, he silently exclaimed. The encoding meant this message is
only going to be visible on his military computer. The only way to unlock the
computer and then decode the message would be by his fingerprint, retinal scan,
and voiceprint, along with the room being securely locked down. He asked
himself what could possibly be going on. His mind ran with all kinds of
tactical and strategic possibilities—
He activated the text
message app on his phone and addressed this message to a redacted encrypted
phone number.
“I’ll be there. All
space forces will be standing by before EoW.”
He updated his phone’s
calendar and then proceeded to lunch.
USSC Odyssey
A sensor alert
sounded.
“WOAH!” Jones
exclaimed, jumping upright in her seat.
“What is it?” Smith
asked.
“For an instant, a
metallic object appeared on our starboard bow about two-hundred-fifty-thousand
kilometers out.” She pointed. “It was there,
and then it vanished.”
Aaen looked at Jones. “‘Vanished’?”
“Aye,” Jones nodded.
“Any idea what it was?”
Smith asked.
“It was a ‘blink-and-you-miss-it’
reading. I was only able to acquire minimal data. What I have indicates it may
have been a small asteroid, a sensor echo, or...”
“Or?” Smith asked directly.
“Or we might not be the only ones out here.” Jones tone indicated
anxiety and fear.
“I recommend
activating the matrix,” referring to the Defensive Matrix, “and that we raise
shields and get all weapons on standby,”
Sandburg said.
“I agree!” Hayes’ chimed.
Aaen considered all
inputs—an alleged sensor contact,
which could be another ship, then again
it might not be. . . An asteroid suddenly appearing and disappearing from
sensors is darned convenient. Way too convenient, he decided. Who else would be out here? He asked
himself. Why would anyone else be so far out here? It’s possible but awfully
unlikely. But still... The start-of-watch ships' status report confirmed all systems are functioning optimally. He listened to
his gut, and then looked at Smith with a steely look.
“Yellow alert. Activate the
matrix, bring the ship to combat-readiness. Make sure to maintain stealth
mode,”
“Yes, sir,” Smith replied in the same steely tone and carried out his
orders.
Odyssey might not technically be a combat vessel, but she was
still had formidable teeth—and her captain was going to be prepared to use them
if the situation demanded that of him. Still, as always, Aaen hoped he wouldn’t
have to.
The bridge turned a cautious
yellow, a change in the alert that lead the other subtle mechanical rumblings
rolling through the bridge.
The lights darkened.
Aaens desire to get to
where they were headed as quickly as possible burned in his mind along with his
building curiosity about that sensor contact. He clamped his jaws tightly,
shifting his lower jaw back and forth with and then commanded, “Wilson, increase to maximum translight,” This
should be an exciting new year indeed.
*****
Steve H. of Portland, OR told Jordan Foutin, "You are the next Tom Clancy. You really are a gifted writer."
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