Last Stand Page 8

  “Sit, sit,” said Rivers with a chuckle. Bradley handed his commanding office a cup of coffee then sat at his usual seat at the conference table. Rivers took a sip of coffee before sitting in his chair at the table. “Now, where were we?” he asked.

  Commander Bradley summed up the team’s progress as of the previous evening, as well as the orders given them by the commodore. He added that he’d spoken with officer in charge of the Computer Sciences Division and had arranged additional personnel, computer access, and facilities for Caulder’s team. Bradley then turned the meeting over to Jarrod and his team to update their findings as of that morning.

  “The computers continued to conduct their comparisons of the star systems against current star maps in our databases, sir. The linguistic translations are going well and we think we’re close to a breakthrough. The additional computational power and assistance will be a great help, sir,” Jarrod reported.

  “Very good,” Rivers responded. “So, Commander Caulder, here’s what I’d like you and your team to do. First, continue your work to identify the locations of the star systems and decipher the Proge text. Second, I want you to work with Commander Bradley to plan a potential mission to scout out any star systems we identify. I think I can scare up one of our high-speed scout ships with room for a crew of 30 or so. Third, draw up a plan for two approaches to recovering any potentially helpful Proge technology. First approach is to bring back documentation of whatever you find. Second approach is to bring back any physical technology you may find.” Rivers paused to see if the junior officers were keeping up with him.

  Seeing that they were taking careful notes, Rivers continued. “I want regular briefings on your progress. E-mail me a report each afternoon around 1600 hours and we’ll hold an in-person meeting every three days. Don’t hesitate to contact Commander Bradley if you require additional support. Don’t hesitate to contact both of us if you discover anything of major importance! Any questions, so far?” No one spoke up.

  “Okay then, commander, I have a report from the station’s chief medical officer that you are still on light duty. She advises me that you shouldn’t overtax yourself, should get plenty of rest and relaxation, and exercise regularly. Lieutenant Rai, your assignment on this team is to monitor Commander Caulder’s condition. You have my permission to act in the best medical interest of the commander even to the point of ordering him off-duty, if need be. If he gives you any trouble, we’ll turn him over to the CMO. We both know how tough she can be!” Rivers said the last with a smile but his eyes told everyone present that he meant what he’d said.

  Rivers rose from his chair and crossed over to the coffee bar. He poured himself a fresh cup and offered to pour for the others but got no takers. He returned to his chair and said, “Last thing before I cut you loose. Commander Caulder, I’ve learned through our mutual friend, Mac here, that you enjoy old science fiction stories and television programs. He knows that I’m also a big fan of those and that we’ve found some very interesting and even helpful corollaries between those stories and modern events. Since this is a mission to find an ancient civilization and advanced technology, I’m going to suggest that each of you watch an old program called Stargate: SG-1. You may have heard of it. That series and its spinoffs are in the entertainment database of the station’s computer system. Spend some time watching it. You might get some ideas about what you may encounter out there…and how to deal with it.”

  The commodore looked at each person sitting around the table then asked, “Any questions? No? Good! Go out and make things happen. Mac, stick around for a moment, would you?”

  Jarrod, Ellie, Ian, and Maria rose and filed out of the room. In the waiting room, they looked at one another. “Wow!” said Maria. “I’ve heard stories about Commodore Rivers and his management style. I gotta say, they were pretty accurate. Give people a job to do, give ‘em the responsibility, authority, and resources to do it…then let ‘em do it!” The others found themselves nodding in agreement as they left the station’s Command Section.

  Chapter 6

  Station Commander’s Log

  Camadin Station

  Earthdate: 12 November 2230

  Commodore James Rivers Recording

  I keep getting reports from what remains of the Fleet and incoming vessels that we’re continuing to lose the war against the Azairi. Given the condition of some of the vessels and their crews, I believe it. I hope that those vessels aren’t leading the Azairi to the Camadin System.

  We’ve been preparing for the war to come to us. Camadin’s planetary government and its industries are working around the clock on weapons and ship modifications to give us a fighting chance. I’m hoping my special research team finds something that we can use against the Azairi before it’s too late.

  Commodore Rivers followed through on his offer. Jarrod and his team were given the additional computer time, lab space, and personnel. All of these resources proved to be of great help on the project. Within two weeks, the enlarged team had identified three of the star systems and deciphered roughly a third of the alien text. Each day brought another a piece or two of the puzzle into focus!

  The additional help also gave Jarrod, Ellie, Ian, and Maria more time to conduct other research and even get in a little exercise and relaxation. The team began watching the old episodes of Stargate: SG-1 as Commodore Rivers had strongly recommended. While the videos were not in true 3D and the special effects were not up to 23rd Century standards, the storytelling was solid even after a couple of centuries. Jarrod and his friends had to admit, Commodore Rivers was correct: the old television series was actually giving them some ideas to help them with acquiring Proge technology should they find that ancient race’s homeworld.

  Jarrod made regular reports to Bradley and Rivers, keeping them abreast of the team’s progress. He was also able to get plenty of rest and exercise which were proving helpful in improving his overall physical health. Still, he knew that Death’s scythe was waiting to strike him down some day in the not-too-distant future. If the radiation poisoning didn’t get him, the Azairi might…or any of the hundreds of things that might go wrong aboard a star vessel in deep space. Jarrod had to force himself to keep those thoughts from interfering with the here and now.

  From time to time, Dr. Rivers called him to the Med-Center and he had to undergo a number of tests to determine his current condition. Occasionally, the good doctor would try some new medicine or procedure that helped to slow the advance of the radiation poisoning through his body. Each attempt bought Jarrod a little more time…even if only a few more days.

  A couple of weeks later, while Jarrod, Ellie, and Ian were in the offices of the Computer Sciences Section watching another episode of Stargate: SG-1, the door flew open and Maria Esteban-Smith raced into the room. Excitement was written on her face and was evident in her voice.

  “Quick! Quick!” she yelled to the others in the office. “Come with me! You gotta see this!” She didn’t wait for them to react but turned quickly and raced from the room. Her three friends looked at one another, leaped to their feet, and ran from the room.

  Their primary lab was in a state of chaos. People were throwing papers into the air, whistling, cheering, and showing all of the obvious signs of having lost their minds! When they saw Jarrod, they cheered some more. Maria waived them over to the room’s largest monitor.

  “Look! Look at this!” she said, not even trying to keep the excitement from her voice.

  Jarrod, Ian, and Ellie turned their attention to the monitor. It was sub-divided into a series of smaller screens each of which was split in two. One would show a stylized star map from Professor Caulder’s e-mails and the corresponding screen would show a matching star map image. They had succeeded! Each of the e-mail star systems had been successfully matched to a corresponding star system in the station’s computer database!

  Maria opened a window in the center of the massive monitor. A 3D map of the Milky Way Galaxy appeared. After a moment, it zo
omed in closer to the Orion-Cygnus Arm which held the worlds of Earth’s Federation. First, one star system from Professor Caulder’s e-mails was suddenly flagged in red on the giant image. Then, one system after another was flagged, each a little further away from the first. A sphere of red dots began to take shape and the first red dot remained at the center of the sphere. After a short time, no more red dots appeared on the map. The sphere was complete, at least as far as the information from Professor Caulder was concerned. Maria pressed one last button and a green dot appeared on the screen.

  “Camadin Station?” Jarrod asked Maria.

  “Yes…Camadian Station!” she answered with a smile. “We are approximately 150 light years from the star system at the center of that sphere.”

  Jarrod leaned closer to Maria. “Punch in the coordinates of the star systems my father has reported visiting in this part of his search.” Maria Esteban-Smith nodded and tapped in the coordinates. One star system about 12 light years from Camadin Station turned blue, then another 20 lighters further. This was followed by a third system 25 light years deeper into the Proge sphere of influence and then a fourth 33 light years further.

  “My God!” Ian Ambercrombie Huntington-Smythe called out. “That course is leading him almost straight towards that central star system! Maria, using the course Professor Caulder has followed thus far, please extrapolate the next sequence of systems he might visit.”

  Maria, his distant cousin, typed the commands into the computer then returned her gaze to the monitor. Another star system turned on the map on the monitor turned blue and then another.

  “Well, there you have it, Jarrod!” Huntingtom-Smythe said to his friend. “I think we have plotted a course for us to follow. Perhaps it’s time to call in the good Commander Bradley and Commodore Rivers and show them this! Our translations of the text are well along and with this new data, I’d dare to say it’s time for us to discuss how we’re going to find your father!” He turned to look at Jarrod only to find him already opening a comm channel at another console. Seconds later, the face of Commander Mac Bradley appeared on the screen.

  “What’s up, Jarrod?” the station’s security chief asked.

  Jarrod grinned at his friend and said, “Mac, we think we’ve done it! We need to show you and the commodore what we’ve discovered…now!”

  Bradley returned the grin. “I’ll contact James and see when he is available. Good work! Call you right back!”

  The screen went black and Jarrod turned to his friends. “Okay, people! Let’s get a quick presentation put together to show the commodore. Move!”

  **********

  It wasn’t long before they were in the commodore’s office briefing him on their latest discoveries. Commodore Rivers listened to their report with intense focus only asking an occasional question. When the briefing was over, he leaned forward in his chair, rested his elbows on the table, interlocked his fingers, and rested his chin in the on his hands. A moment passed and then he spoke, “So…we need to get you some transportation! Sadly, the few available ships in the quadrant are busy on patrols and/or trying to halt the Azairi advance. Plus, you’ll need a ship that is both fast and capable of planetary landings. A scout ship, in other words. We currently have three scouts in our repair docks at the moment. We were hoping to be able to scavenge enough parts from two of them…and maybe some from other vessels…and get one of them operational again.”

  Rivers paused to gather his thoughts. “I’ll contact Pat Deckard, commander of the repair docks, and have him put a priority on getting a scout ready for you ASAP! Mac, I’m going to put you in command of the mission, no offense to Commanders Caulder or Huntington-Smythe. You have command and deep space experience. Plus, you will be responsible for protecting the team while away from the station. I’d suggest you take some of your security personnel for that purpose.”

  The commodore paused again to step over to the coffee service along one side of the room. After pouring himself and some of the others some coffee, he returned to his chair. “Commander Huntingtom-Smythe, I want you to work with Commander Deckard on coordinating the repair of the scout vessel and the installation of any mission specific equipment you feel necessary for the mission. Commander Caulder, you are in charge of the science team on this mission. It is your research that can help us find your father and, with any luck, the Proge homeworld. I want you to work with Lieutenant Esteban-Smith in deciphering the remaining data and plotting the course or courses your mission will take. Everyone clear on their assignments? Good! Let me know if you need any pull from me to get things done!” With that, he dismissed them and went back to running the massive space station.

  While Caulder, Esteban-Smith, and Rai returned to their lab, Commanders Bradley and Huntington-Smythe went to the docking bay and arranged transportation to the repair docks floating in orbit several miles from Camadin Station. Bradley’s rank and position allowed them to schedule a transport pod almost immediately and, soon, they were in space traveling from the station to one of the repair docks.

  Bradley and Huntington-Smythe found Commander Deckard in the “Supervisor’s Shack” high above the floor of the repair dock’s primary hangar. The walls, ceiling, and floor of the large room were constructed of dura-plaz, a transparent composite material. This allowed the room’s occupants to observe the work being conducted on the hangar floor. At that moment, Pat Deckard was busy arguing loudly with two other officers and was repeatedly pointing at one of the three scout vessels within the giant hangar.

  “Take that piece of crap apart for anything usable and let’s melt the rest down to forge new components!” Deckard said then waved the man and woman away in dismissal.

  “Hey, Pat!” Mac Bradley called out in his friendliest manner. Bradley and Deckard were old friends and, like many others aboard Camadin Station, both had served with Commodore Rivers aboard his last command, the TCV Conestoga.

  “Hiya Mac, welcome to the madhouse!” Deckard answered his friend. “And who is this?”

  “Pat, this is Commander Ian Abercrombie Huntington-Smythe from the Europa. Ian and some of his shipmates have been assigned a top-level project by our beloved commodore and we need your help,” said Bradley.

  “Yeah, you and twenty other ship captains and crews,” snorted Deckard, exasperation evident in his tone.

  “C’mon, Pat, the Skipper said we’d get whatever we need to make this project work and he said you were the only person who could deliver what we need in a timely manner,” Bradley replied. He knew that Deckard’s curmudgeon act was just that…an act. But, he also knew that Deckard had to do it and everyone else had to play along.

  “Well…okay, then. If the Skipper says we can get it done, I guess we’re gonna have to get it done.” Deckard said with a growl. “Of course, he’s already contacted me. I’ve got my best crews working on getting one of those three scouts out there ready for you ASAP! We ain’t got a fleet shipyard so this is gonna have to be some down and dirty repair work. We won’t have time to get fancy, do any awesome paint jobs, or some such!”

  “Pat, as long as it will fly fast, land safely, and take off again, I don’t give a hoot about how pretty the damned thing is,” said Bradley honestly. “We need to get as much speed out of it as possible but I wouldn’t be adverse to a little additional weaponry and shielding if we can get that, too!”

  Deckard crossed his arms then raised one hand to his face and rubbed his chin. “How many personnel were you thinking of taking with you?”

  It was Bradley’s turn to pause and think for a moment. Finally, he said, “Well…no more than 50, maybe only 35. Ian and his team, me, and 15 to 20 security personnel or Fleet Marines, if I can get ‘em!”

  A smile suddenly crossed Deckard’s face. “I’ve got an idea!” He stepped over to a console and punched up the blueprints for a Carson Class scout vessel similar to two of the vessels in the hangar. “We can rip out these bulkheads here, here, and here. That enlarges the engine room and I can squeeze
in a Mark XII FTL-drive unit in. We have one out in the hangar that we scavenged from a frigate that we had to scrap out. Then we strip the living quarters and mess hall here and here and these supply lockers here and there and we can put in a Mark VI shield generator.” He paused to look at Bradley and saw the security chief nodding in agreement.

  “That gives you speed and some better shields,” Deckard said. “We can install two plasma cannons forward and one aft to give you some additional fire power. They won’t have wide angle targeting so you’ll be limited in where you can fire, but at least you’ll have ‘em, if you need ‘em!”

  “That’ll be just fine, Pat! We promised the Skipper that we’ll help you and your gang in any way we can,” Bradley added the last to remind Deckard that Commodore Rivers was backing this project.

  Deckard looked at Bradley then at Huntington-Smythe, “Ian, you were Chief Engineer aboard the Europa, weren’t you?” Deckard asked.

  Ian smiled, nodded, and said, “I presume that my reputation has preceeded me, commander.”

  Pat smiled back at Huntington-Smythe and responded, “We’ve got some mutual friends throughout the Fleet and every one of them have a high opinion of you. And their opinions are good enough for me. Welcome aboard! Now let’s get to work!” Bradley watched as Deckard and Huntington-Smythe turned back to the blueprints and began to talk in a language totally alien to Bradley…Engineerese! After being excluded from the conversation for 10 minutes, Bradley realized he wasn’t needed at the repair docks at that time and went to find a transport back to Camadin Station.

  **********