Chapter 26

"Do what you can, with what you have, where you are."

~ Theodore Roosevelt

John lightly waltzed on board the bridge of the WarpStar, hoping to observe some junior officers performing their duties without attempting to impress their commanding officer. That did not last long as petty officer second class Russell, who was stationed at tactical, glanced the captain leaning on the aft control panels sipping his steamy cup of coffee. “Captain on the bridge!” he yelled out and quickly snapped to attention. The rest of the junior crew snapped to attention as well.

The executive officer stood up from the command chair and just laughed as he looked around. “Seems they didn’t get the memo, John!”

“Apparently not. At ease, men,” John said as he walked around the bridge. “It should be noted that when I enter the bridge, there is no need to stand at attention. Please continue your duties!”

“Aye, sir!” the men and women said in almost perfect unison.

“Alright, crew, are you ready for some real practice?” John looked around the room, but the officer of the deck responded, “Sir, yes, sir! We will tackle anything you throw at us! We are the best! Oh, yah!” the young man shouted out with extreme enthusiasm. In response, all the junior officers yelled out “Oh, yah!” in unison.

“Excellent!” John shot a smile over to Charles, who innocently took another sip of coffee. “We have new orders from Naval Command, I’m going to need each and every one of you at your best. But for now, you have a simple task. X.O, take us to the naval supply yard so that we can take on provisions.”

“Sir, we just resupplied a few days ago?” Charles noted.

“Yes, we did, but now we need a full stock! And once we’re docked get the crew some rest, everyone. We have six hours to get underway.”

“Aye, sir,” Charles said.

It only took four hours to resupply the ship, quicker than the last tested time and a testament to the training and hard work by the crew and officers. John did not bother to watch every detail the crew made during maneuvers; that was the job of the ship’s executive officer. John wanted, needed, to talk to the ship’s helmswoman. He hadn’t seen her in almost a week, since he pulled her badly beaten body out of the wreckage of an experimental aircraft. Personal matters would have to wait, despite his desperate desire to converse. They had just under one hour left before the expected mission clock reached zero, and the Federation would expect them to have left.

“Please take a seat,” John told the room as he walked in, closed the hatch and set the viewports to full opaque. All of the senior staff was present, including the Sumerian Enki, sitting at their respective places enjoying their breakfast in the wardroom. “Our orders came in, and we’re going back to Orion.”

“Another repeat of the festivities, eh?” Donovan replied with his thick Australian accent while stuffing a forkful of eggs in his mouth.

“Sir, I would like to request a detour to Wolf 359,” Jackson interrupted.

“Negative,” John said, hoping to stop any more interruptions. This caught everyone's attention, and all stopped stuffing their faces. John’s tone was straight to the point, no humor or sarcasm present. He didn’t smile the entire time, except for a fraction of a second when he locked eyes with Charlene, seeing her for the first time since the attack a week ago. “We lost all communications with Orion a few days before the attack.”

“They’re probably… ohhh, wait.” O'Connell caught himself as the entire wording of John’s report caught him.

“Yeah, Central Intelligence cannot make heads or tails of it.”

“So, why not jump a task force there?” Heidi said, unable to hide her Martian accent.

“The Hyper-buoy is not responding, not even the backups.”

“Are we expecting hostiles?”

“Possibly, we should be prepared for Russian involvement. We have no data; we are going in blind. That is what our objective is, assess the situation, and report in to command and determine a path after.”

“Bloody hell,” Donovan intervened. “They're mad, sending us in blind.”

“We are the best bet, and we are the only solution.” John stood up, pushing a few buttons on the panel in front of him, setting up an overlay of the Orion system in a brilliant holographic display over the table showing everyone a clear view. “I want us to exit F.T.L. here,” John said, activating a red light blinking roughly in the outer orbit of the twelfth planet, approximately nineteen light hours outside of Orion itself. A task like this had never been attempted before, so John had to theory-craft a whole new tactical approach to entering a system for recon under a new F.T.L. method. “The moment we exit F.T.L. I want passive sensors only, we are not to go active.”

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Watney questioned the tactics. “Sir, that will not give us a good idea of what's out there.”

“That’s not the point, lieutenant,” O’Connell began to explain. John gave his X-O a nod of approval, knowing his executive would understand the tactics. “Sea combat has the same principles at this point. We don’t know what's out there, so we need to be as silent as possible while we observe. If there are hostiles out there, they will not be expecting us. Thus they will not be searching for us. Therefore, our entry into the system will remain unknown to them. Gives us the element of surprise, gives us the chance to assess the situation without sounding the alarm. I've done this way too often under the ocean, stalking the Russians.”

“Exactly, but we have no clue what we are getting ourselves into. So, we need to be ready. I want full combat readiness before we exit F.T.L. We have four days of transit time. I want ten on, fourteen off rotations until the final day. I want our senior staff rested and fully ready before we exit F.T.L. I expect all weapon systems to be inspected and charged before then. All countermeasures loaded, and all sensor suites loaded for package dispersal.” John took a moment to watch the reactions of his staff. All of them had worried looks on their faces. “And load all missile and torpedo tubes, and get the railguns loaded and charged.”

“Kinetic weapons, sir?” Watney asked in confusion. “Sir, we don’t have any rounds for the rail system, or missiles to speak of…”

John cut off his tactical officer, a little irritated. “We do, lieutenant, I requested them. And it surprises me to know that my chief tactical officer has no idea what ordnance she has available to her onboard the ship.”

Realizing John was right, and she had made a critical error, she replied, “You’re right, sir, I apologize. I should have known. There are no excuses.”

A rookie mistake, however, one that is made far too often among naval tactical officers in modern space combat, where energy and particle weapons reign superior to kinetic rounds. The Federation Senate has even proposed a bill to no longer fund the development, production, and maintenance of any kinetic weapon system and ammunition, debating ending support for the ancient technology altogether.

“Now, before we leave to start cracking down on our assignment I have one more order of business to announce.” He shut off the projection of Orion and grabbed a blue box from a side table along the wall. “One of us has performed beyond the expectations of the Federation.” Everyone in the room looked at each other, knowing this was a quick promotion ceremony. No one knew who it could be, except for one person. “Ensign Charlene Carr, please come here.”

Everyone had a wide grin on their faces, but none more comprehensive than Charlene’s. Her smile lit up the entire system as she stood up to attention and marched to the front of the long table, ending her march with a salute that she held firm the entire time.

“Ensign Charlene Carr. For your bravery in the line of duty when you were off duty, for your willingness to put yourself in harm’s way without the expectation of reward, your courage in an active battleground, your actions saved hundreds of lives that would have otherwise not have survived. You took a civilian vehicle, with no weapons or defenses of its own, and eliminated three enemy combatants before being shot down yourself.” Everyone in the room was standing at this point, all respecting their young colleague. “By order from the Department of the Navy, United Federation of Nations, and with the power granted to me as Captain of the Federation WarShip WarpStar, I hereby grant you the rank of lieutenant, and all the rights and privileges thereof.”

Charlene held her at-attention stare and salute, with a grin so wide her jaw was about ready to fall off. John removed her ensign patch and insignia and replaced them with the lieutenant equivalents, then fastened her new rank’s pin to her chest. Snapping at attention himself, he returned the salute, “At ease! Lieutenant Carr,” John shouted as he snapped his hand to his side and the room erupted in cheers and clapping.

“Helm, break orbit.” It was time. Twenty minutes after the quick briefing and promotion ceremony. everyone was at their stations and ready to start the first real mission this crew has been assigned as a complete unit. “Plot and engage course for Orion, F.T.L entry all ahead full!” All head full was standard slang for 10 g’s of thrust, 5 g’s less than the Inertia stabilizer’s hard limit and easy on the fusion reactors’ fuel consumption. This was standard cruise speed for a destroyer.

“Aye, sir, breaking orbit, all ahead full,” repeated newly promoted Lieutenant Carr.

“Ops, prepare for F.T.L. flight, get her ready to jump!”

Even though the first time the ship jumped into actual Faster-Than-Light travel was a complete disaster, none of the crew was fearful. They all knew and understood that it was sabotage last time. They all had full confidence in their commander for a second trip.

“Sir, engineering reports all green for FTL Jump. Antimatter reactor output is exceeding expectations,” Lt. Jackson reported.

“Helm, status,” Henderson asked.

“Steady on course 272, and we are in line with Orion for F.T.L. jump. Distance from Earth, four hundred seventy-three million kilometers, the helm is answering ahead full, and we are at FTL entry speed.”

John gave the order. “Excellent! Make the jump!”

It didn’t take much. A slight push to the main engine throttle level, pushing it all the way forward, setting the main drive coils to create the field needed to sustain F.T.L travel. The final step was sending power from the Antimatter reactor into the Faster than Light engines while pulling another set of throttles back, the main sub-Light Engines, stopping thrust. All of that in less than a minute, and all of that to make the stars mutate from a white dotted backdrop to a flush of colorful explosions, dancing and whirling all around the ship.

Enki still couldn’t believe it. This time offered a complete view of the impressive technology these ‘Humans’ had developed. In his entire lifetime and career, he had never encountered a civilization that had such capabilities. The expansion of civilizations was a process that took several hundred millennia. These “new” spacefaring people can now do it in years, versus millennia. Even his own species, the Sumerians, as technologically superior to anyone else in the Galaxy, could not have created such a method of travel!