Chapter 25

"This [a surprise attack] is an operation by no means to be despised in war, although it is rare, and less brilliant than a great strategic combination which renders victory certain even before the battle is fought."

~ Antoine-Henri Jomini

WarpStar

“The Republic has not launched an attack domestically in over one hundred years!” the senator for Brazil spoke up in the Senate chambers during an emergency meeting of the Federation Congress. “We have given the Republic chance after chance for peace. Yet they continue to provoke us. Small skirmishes here and there with our military is one thing, but an attack against an unprotected civilian population is another! We demand action!”

The Brazilian senator spat the words with passion, angry for the loss of lives that had occurred. Even if the attack was not on his respective territory, the senator still regarded it an attack on all.

“Sir, if I may,” the senator for the United States stepped up and interrupted. “The Republic is denying involvement. We need to launch an investigation before any action can be authorized.”

“How can you say that? The attack was on your soil!” the Brazilian senator interrupted his colleague, more venom spewing from his lips.

The captain, who had been listening to the senate meeting in his office, stopped the recording. “This makes no sense. Why would they attack a corporate unveiling?” Taking a sip of his coffee, John sat the control panel of his terminal down.

“I couldn’t even begin to guess,” John’s executive officer Charles O'Connell replied. “When I had the U.S.S. Dallas on patrol one night, just off the coast of China, we were escorting a cargo group en route from Australia to Sapporo.” Charles set his steamy cup of black gold down, closing his eyes to relive the memory. “I don’t understand it. They had a golden opportunity. The three freighters were fully loaded to the teeth with munitions. Ordnance to support the defense base, and supplies for our troops. They could have dealt a crippling blow to our Japanese defense fleet.”

“What happened?” John noticed the tears forming in his eyes, and he looked down at the desk. Charles gave the answer John was hoping not to be true.

“They killed them. Women, children, innocent families on vacation.”

“Who? How?”

“I didn’t see it. They avoided detection. Super quiet, unlike anything we’ve ever encountered. A Russian sub that was quieter than anything we’ve created snuck right up from under us, and put two fish into a cruise ship that wasn’t even remotely near the freighters.”

“Mother of God.” John didn’t believe in a deity, but regularly used phrases like this when he generally was appalled.

“They left right after,” he said, looking right back into John’s eyes. “Left two targets of opportunity wide open and never laid a finger on them.”

“And that’s when you decided to leave the U.S. Navy?”

“Those are some gutless motherfuckers. I thought up here, carnage on that level wouldn’t happen. I never thought they would do anything like this again.”

“I hope we never have to see carnage on that level again. This war has already taken too many innocent lives.” John's heart sank as he took another sip of his coffee.

`Cllaaanng` The 1.M.C. chimed. “Captain Henderson, please reach the con,” the officer of the deck barked over shipwide comms.

“Do they realize you have the con currently?” John smirked as he picked up the handheld communications unit.

“They sure as hell better,” Charles replied.

John picked up the mic and switched it to the 18.M.C. “Con, CO. Watcha got.”

“Sir,” replied Junior Officer Daemon Brock, who was currently the O.O.D. “Naval Command wants you to report in immediately, priority one.”

“Understood, please inform them I will be there in a few minutes, have the communications suite loaded into the wardroom.”

“Midnight booty call?” Charles joked as John set down the comm unit

“Probably. The Admiralty needs a word!” John said as he finished off his coffee and stood up to leave his office.

“Sounds like fun!” Charles replied as he stood. “Well, I suppose I should get to doing what I was supposed to be doing in the first place, babysitting some junior officers while we practice going in circles around the damn planet!” the X-O said sarcastically. He was not wrong; the current time was 0215 SST: Sol Standard Time. The midnight watch mostly consisted of junior officers who wanted to rack in some command experience time in the various other stations that they are required to master to advance in rank. This time, it was Charles’ turn to supervise them. Every ‘practice watch,’ as it has been come to known on Naval ships, requires the command of a senior staff member. Uusually they rotate watches.

Charlene

It had been six days since the attack on Earth, a long and exhausting six days for Charlene. She just narrowly survived the crash, which would have instantly killed any other pilot. Her skills were not to attribute to her survival this time, although some would argue that any other pilot wouldn’t have been able to maneuver the aircraft in such a way to avoid hitting the island. To Charlene, all that mattered was the mixture of rare metals that were found in abundance in the asteroid belt orbiting the Orion system, metals that were only recently mixed in just the perfect amount to create the ideal alloy.

Olympic Industries had been experimenting with the newly discovered metals for decades, only recently striking a breakthrough on the alloy in the last few years. The findings stunned the manufacturing community. Olympic Industries had created a material almost 300 times stronger than steel, and fifty times lighter than aluminum. The aircraft Charlene was contracted to fly had been their first test of the alloy, but Olympic Aerospace had not intended to run a full stress test on it yet. They knew it would hold up to standard stress from a routine flight, even increased stress from higher-than-normal maneuvers. The actual stress test on the alloy, scheduled for a few months later, was when they intended to introduce it to everything from handgun bullets to full atomic explosions. The test Charlene was conducting was for the neural link. No one in the company had any idea that the unfortunate events of that day would lead to an achievement so significant, it would eventually threaten to put Boeing out of business.

“How are you, honey?” Amelia Carr gripped her daughter's hand as she awoke from the six-day procedure that had saved her life.

“Mom!” she could barely utter the words as she returned the grip and slowly opened her eyes.

“Charrr!!!” Bethany screamed as she saw her aunt awake from her slumber, and ran as fast as she could to her bed to hold her tight.

“Oh, Beth, it's nice to see you too.” Char returned the hug while exploring her hospital room. Everyone she cared about was there. Her mother and father, sister and niece. Everyone that mattered, except John. She wished he was there. Tiffany joined her daughter in hugging her. Antonio started to shed a tear as he held his wife but maintained his composure, allowing the women of the family to release the much-held tension that was building up for six straight days.

“Ow ow ow!” Charlene coughed slightly as her sister and niece gave her bear hugs of their own.

“Sorry, sis. Beth, get down!”

Bethany complained, as she did not want to release her aunt from her grip, fearing she would lose her again.

“What happened, what is all this?” Charlene scanned the room to find it littered with objects of all sorts. Letters, gifts, balloons, packages. What caught her attention the most were the four velvet boxes sitting at the table to her side. One of them held the logo of the ‘Seal of the President of the United Federation of Nations’. Another held the ‘Seal of the President of the United States of America,’ the third was labeled ‘Seal of the Senate of the United Federation of Nations’, and the final was labeled ‘Seal of the Navy, Department of Defense, United Federation of Nations.

“Sweetie, you were amazing!” Antonio finally released his grip on Amelia. “I cannot believe what you did!”

Charlene asked the only question she cared about at that moment. “How many died?”

“Seventeen,” Amelia replied before anyone else could.

“Noo,” Charlene whispered as she fell back into her bed, tears flowing uncontrollably from her eyes.

“But you saved three thousand!” Antonio attempted to cheer up his daughter. “What you did was extraordinary! I saw you over Cuba. They had a feed on the news of the battle. You almost rammed into that island, but you didn’t somehow. I saw you crash into the ocean off the coast of the Keys. They tell me before you did that, you killed three more of them. In an aircraft with no weapons, and no defense systems. Against actual starfighters with shields, weapons, and armor!”

“Seventeen people …” Charlene continued to mutter.

“They're giving you a promotion and medals. Federation Medal of Valor and Heroics, United States Medal of Honor. You are being honored as a hero!”

The male doctor interrupted the slight hero worship from her father to give a final checkup. “And how are you feeling, Ms. Carr?”

“Great. What happened?”

“You suffered quite a crash. If it weren’t for Olympic Aerospace’s new alloy they put in the cockpit, you would have disintegrated on contact. You suffered three broken ribs, a concussion, a broken arm, and that neural interface melted a large portion of your skin off, including your hair. Your head was the hardest to heal, to be honest. The skin regenerator spent four days just on your scalp.” Charlene instinctively reached for her sides of her temples, remembering the burning smell and pain of her flesh melting away during the attack.

“We’ve contacted a lawyer, and you can file charges against …”

“No,” Charlene interrupted her mother, knowing where that line of thought was headed. “It was a prototype, and they needed it tested. That cockpit saved my life. I’ll take that as compensation over the burnt flesh. I just lost four days of my life, that’s all.”

The doctor had no intention in interfering with an internal family matter and decided to continue with his exam. “Well, you seem fit, and everything looks well. Vitals are excellent, I am clearing you for active duty.”

“Thank you, doctor.”

“So soon?” Her father did not want her to leave after just getting her back. Before Charlene could say anything, her comm unit sent a loud alert. Reading it, she had to deliver the bad news to her family.

“And that was fast. I’m to report back to the WarpStar as soon as humanly possible. New orders, we’re being deployed.” No one said anything. They knew nothing they would say would stop her. She's duty-bound, always been bound by the military. This was her life, and now she was a hero. The Carr family was sad and proud.

John

John entered the Wardroom to find a few junior officers enjoying a quick break, and had to kick them out of the room regretfully. The Wardroom may be a “break” and relaxation room for officers, but it is also the main meeting room for conferences and deployment orders. John enjoyed the view of Earth below the ship as he watched Africa slowly pass by the viewports.

“Computer, establish communications with Federation Naval Command, channel theta five, priority one. Clearance authorization, Henderson sigma alpha, two niner five.”

“Verification authorized,” the computer replied, “communication established, loading comm suite two-two-seven.”

Light from Sol and the Earth quickly began to fade as the top of the Wardroom was slowly being replaced. The gray pipes, wires, and I-beams that held the ship together were switched with wooden beams and a wooden ceiling. Following the pattern down, the walls transformed from the metal skeleton of the ship to a wood paneling. Bookcases, picture frames, and tables appeared as the transformation continued. The view of Earth faded into a picture of the Colorado mountain range. As John turned around, the Wardroom desk vanished and was replaced by an oak desk with Admiral Lopez sitting, waiting for the young captain to sit down. The room had finished its transformation, placing John inside the Office of Admiral Lopez. Everything was real as John observed, everything interactable. The holographic technology was able to make the room as real as needed.

“John,” the admiral motioned for John to sit.

After the typical salute, John did take his seat, with a glass of water in his hand. The water was real; he had grabbed it out of the reprocessor just before activating the communication suit.

“First, let me say, thank you for your service in Florida a week ago. Without you and Ensign Carr, the outcome could have been much worse. Once again, you two have proved that the Federation needs you together,” Lopez laughed. Ironically, Lopez had been the main driving force in opposition against ‘The Impossible Duo’ and had been trying to split them apart since John entered Command School.

“Thank my training, sir!”

“Yes, your training,” Lopez almost spat the words. “John, we have another situation that needs tending to. Since the attack, we have lost all communications with Orion.”

“What's wrong?” John had no hopes for this being anything other than what Lopez was known for, garbage missions for officers and captains he did not like.

“We are not sure why the Senate thinks it’s just a communications blackout security precaution due to the attack. And since we have not released the Sol blackout ourselves, the rest of the Federation has no idea if we are okay. Some senators think Orion is waiting for us to reestablish Sector communications.”

“But you don’t believe that?” John asked.

“I don’t. Personally, I don’t know what to believe. The problem that irks me is both Hyperbuoys, the primary and the backup units, have gone offline. They no longer are reporting to the Hyperspace Network.”

“That is damned odd. Communications is one thing, but cutting off your primary lifeline to the heart of the Federation, or anywhere else for that matter? And why haven’t they sent a ship here to aid our defense, or at the very least recon the situation?” John pitched in, quickly reminding Lopez of his tactical brain.

“Exactly my point! Unfortunately, we cannot send any other ship there to investigate. The nearest ship is four years away at sub-light speed. That leaves us with only one option.”

John knew where this was going and replied, “Sir, I have to point out, we have not yet identified the saboteur that killed our last FTL trip to Orion.”

“Noted, and understood. However, personally, I don’t think you will have to worry. If I am right, and to be honest, I hope I am wrong, but if I am right, then that won’t matter anymore.”

“I see your point. Respectfully, sir, I agree. I hope you are wrong.” A sinking feeling began to brew in John's stomach.

“There is one other thing, captain.” Lopez sat back in his chair. “The Sumerian, Enki, will be joining you.”

“Is that necessary, admiral?”

“Unfortunately, it is. The Senate wishes to establish diplomatic relations with the Sumerian people since they are the first true alien race we have encountered, and Enki has requested he join the WarpStar on her next F.T.L. journey. Apparently, as ‘technologically superior’ as they are,” Lopez paused for a minute. “His words not ours, they have not developed any other F.T.L. technology beyond Hyperdrive, so he’s curious. And he wants to observe how we operate so he can report back to his people if we are worthy of relations.”

“Sir, with all due respect, the Senate does not have authority in this matter. This is a military operation.”

“President’s orders.” The admiral interrupted John.

John had nothing to say about that. The President of the Federation may be a civilian, an official elected by the people. However, he still is Commander-In-Chief of any military forces under the Federation flag.

“Mission parameter states,” the admiral finishes his briefing, “Secret Level Three. You may brief your senior staff, but that’s it. No one beyond your department heads is to know of the mission. We don’t want to be tipping anyone off, or causing a panic among the civilians. You are to assess the situation at Orion. If no immediate danger, locate and repair the Hyperspace network, then repair the transmitters. Provide any humanitarian assistance needed. If there are hostile forces, you are to withdraw immediately, get to the nearest safe spot for transmission, and report in for further orders. We have no idea what’s going on there, so as soon as we are done here, dock up and top off all reserves of supplies. You have six hours until mission go, I expect you to be fueled up and ready to depart by then.”

As the admiral finished his briefing, John couldn’t help but ask, “What about Wolf 359?” He knew he shouldn’t have asked, but his scientific curiosity was itching for answers, anything about the planet and its mysteries.

“Captain, you know that’s classified.” Admiral Lopez stood and replenished the cup of coffee he had.

“I understand, sir; I just need to know. There was so much down there!”

The admiral began to patronize him. “John, sometimes your curiosity can be your biggest downfall. But, you did discover it, so I owe you that much. As of right now, we have a team of scientists down there trying to analyze the ancient technology. So far, they can’t make heads or tails of it. Nothing is working for them, and they have no idea how you got some of the tech working.”

“I might have to make a detour there on the way back,” John said jokingly as he stood up.

“I’m not sure if I can make that happen, captain. Anyway, you have your orders. Get to it.”

“Aye, sir,” John said as he gave a salute. The admiral returned the salute as John spoke. “Computer, end transmission.” The room began to dissolve, and John was returned to the ship’s Wardroom.