“Admiral, you need to see this, sir,” Pirelli said.

Admiral Pearson walked over to the intelligence console. Commodore Santos and Lieutenant Commander Fox were already looking over the data displayed on the terminal.

“We think we have found how Captain Ganner is able to covertly communicate with the Orions, sir,” Pirelli said. “I had Commander Fox study all of her movements for the past two weeks, since you placed her under watch. She varies her pattern slightly, to the gym on this day or to the observation deck on that day, but she has one distinct place she always goes. Commander?”

“Yes, sir,” Fox said. “As you can see here, sir, she always goes to the galley, followed by a visit to the hydroponics lab or library for reading. Innocent enough in itself, but if you look closer at the data, you will note two anomalies.”

Pearson grunted, indicating that he had bitten and was ready to see the facts.

“First, she always checks this portion of the galley menu. It seems innocent enough, until you take note that the menu items are part of the food shipments. Petty Officer McGrew just takes them as they come in and posts them. So I requisitioned the originals from Izar station and compared them. There is a subtle difference, here.”

Fox opened both menu sections and displayed them side by side. He then ran his finger over the text and highlighted a very subtle difference in wording. Under the peanut-free section of the menu, some of the wording was slightly out of order and different by several letters.

“One the surface, there appears to be no difference, but Captain Ganner seems to find this very interesting.”

“Do you know what the message is?”

“No, sir, we haven’t been able to crack the code yet. Lieutenant Ferguson and I are working on some algorithms that look promising, sir.”

“Alright, keep working on it. Don’t disrupt the flow of information, but let me know the minute you crack this thing. And keep it quiet.”

* * *

As Ganner went to read the menu in the galley, she scanned down the page, looking for the encrypted pass code. Unscrambling the code in her mind, she decoded two words: “Compromised. Extraction.”

She frowned in concentration and then stole a glance at her marine shadow. It would have been nice if the message had included an extraction plan or timetable, but her brain was already in motion. Making up her mind, she continued on her route to the hydroponics bay. Picking up some gardening gloves, she walked over and inspected the Lupid bushes. Feeling in the soft earth with her gloved hands, she carefully extracted four worms, placing them into a clear glass tube. The worms were a natural defense for the plant, with stingers capable of injecting a dangerous neurotoxin to deter predators. Not normally fatal to humans, the worm’s venom could be used as a tranquilizer if distilled properly. There wasn’t time for that, so she would have to improvise.

On the next row, she extracted the berries from a few of the mistletoe plants she had grown. After crushing the berries into the glass jar, she placed the jar into her pocket. She then pretended to examine a number of plants and trees, and bypassed her normal routine of reading.

Back in her quarters, the young marine corporal was being relieved by Private Jimmy Savannah for third watch. Over the past week she had carefully noted the habits of the different marine escorts. For example, Private Savannah always came in and helped himself to a cup of coffee from Ganner’s cabin dispenser. Somehow it was his way of making her feel uncomfortable without breaking the rules. To make his task easier, she kept cups washed and ready on the rack.

As he drank his coffee, his breathing suddenly became irregular. Convulsing, he dropped his cup, spilling the remains on the floor. Ganner lunged at him, knocking his rifle to the floor and kicking it away with her boot. Private Savannah lunged for the weapon but his lungs were burning now, the toxin working very quickly. Within moments, he was unconscious on the floor of her cabin.

She quickly left her cabin and stopped by damage control maintenance station four  on her way to the hangar bay. The hangar bay would have guarded access, of course. Inside the maintenance station were several work benches for repairing damaged components found throughout the ship. On one such bench was a gravitics sensor chassis, opened, with several parts missing. In the corner were a couple of maintenance technicians looking over a schematic and arguing in a teasing sort of way as to which wire to cut, the red or the blue. Apparently it was an inside joke she did not share.

She strolled casually up to the duty roster posted on the wall tablet. The roster showed who was next for external lighting checks and replacements; Ensign Tarr was up. Ganner remembered seeing Tarr heading for the galley on her way up. Good, he was taking his break.

She left the maintenance station and headed for external hatch 3B, which was one deck below. Grabbing an EVA suit, she put it on and grabbed a pair of vacuum gloves her size. Holding the gloves in her left hand, she keyed in the access code for the hatch with her right--Tarr’s access code.

The hatch readiness indicator showed green as she finished securing the gloves and helmet. A momentary check of the equipment showed everything was working properly. Opening the first load lock door, she stepped inside and keyed in the auto-purge sequence. The chamber was large enough for only two people, and then only if they were friendly. The hatch door swung shut behind her and began evacuating the atmosphere out of the chamber.

Once the evacuation had finished, she pressed the large red button beside the outer hatch. It opened with a silent pop that she could only feel through her feet. The beauty of space reached out to her, reminding her of why she entered the service in the first place. She had wanted to help chart the vast unknowns. A far reach from where she was now, she thought wryly.

Working hand over hand, she pulled herself along the maintenance ladder. She didn’t have much time. As soon as the real ensign Tarr reached the EVA locker and entered his own code, a ship’s alarm would begin to bleat, indicating that he was already outside. Taking some risks, she propelled herself along the surface of the ship without a tether. Zero-G training had taught her that accelerating too fast meant the handhold you aim for might be too hard to catch, sending you spinning off on an unanticipated vector. That would be bad.

She was in a rhythm now, catch, land, jump, catch, land, jump. Finally, she saw the edge of the shuttle bay doors, and almost missed a handhold. Grabbing it wrong, she slammed her body into the hull and broke off a landing lamp. Well, ensign Tarr would have to replace that one too.

A thin sheen of frost had formed on her helmet visor from an exhaust stack nearby. She wiped it away and checked her atmosphere gauges. Seeing that she had three hours of air, she considered briefly what would happen if this didn’t work. More brig time, she supposed.

Finding the edge of the shuttle bay doors, she waited. As the time ticked by, the doors finally began to open as a shuttle lifted off from the hangar floor. An Orion shuttle.

Kicking off with all her might, she thrust out into open space on a trajectory roughly parallel to the shuttle’s vector. Reaching down with her right hand, she triggered the “man-overboard” beacon on her EVA suit. The shuttle passed near her and then reduced its speed to match hers. From the rear of the shuttle, a tether line shot out like a harpoon. Deactivating her beacon, she grabbed the line as it sped past and waited to be pulled into the shuttle. The shuttle pilot, wasting no time, accelerated back to his original course.

She cycled through the lock and removed the EVA helmet and gloves, handing them to an Orion petty officer second class. Just then, Admiral Nagao walked into the compartment.

“It seems a certain ensign Tarr has gone extra-vehicular. When they find him still aboard Thor, they will be relieved, I am sure.”

His attempt at humor was rewarded with a slight smile as Traci blushed. Returning the smile, he started back to the main cabin and motioned for her to join him.

It didn’t take long. They had just taken their seats in the main cabin when the incoming message light began blinking. Nagao reached forward and activated the projector.

“Admiral Nagao, it seems you have one of my officers. I want her back,” said a very irritated Scott Pearson.

“As a representative of the Orion government, I have decided to grant her sanctuary. Now that you know she is safe and sound, I assume you will be able to enjoy a good night’s sleep.”

“I have an unconscious marine and a missing EVA suit.”

“--which we will be happy to return to you, Admiral.”

“And if I make her return a condition for our continued ‘cooperation?’”

“Then we will be pleased to leave you to handle the Valdi alone, Admiral. Really, does one young Orion captain mean so very much to you?”

“I have sworn to see her punished for the deaths of the crew of the Imperial light cruiser Corsair.

“Do you believe I should wish her punished for her complicity in giving you the intel to destroy eleven of our battle cruisers, seven frigates, and twenty four of our heavy cruisers? Shall I count up how many Orion deaths you are responsible for, Admiral?”

“Perhaps I should count up the number of worlds you have destroyed by sanctioning the theft of Imperial technology and giving it into the hands of the Valdi! And while we are doing addition, let’s include the fact that our Imperial family is now dead.”

“Admiral, I may remind you that it was you who decided to attack the Valdi in Antares, and to leave the emperor to face his own demise. We all make choices, Admiral. Sometimes we have to allow some to die so that many, many more may live. Your emperor was a cancer in the galaxy, tormenting and destroying everything that got in his path. Sometimes a sharp instrument is needed to cut away that cancer. The cutting is painful, yes, that’s true. But in the end, your children and mine have the opportunity to live without fear of a ruthless despot.”

“And what I if become that despot?” Pearson asked.

“Look at yourself in the mirror, Admiral. You will find the answers you seek. Now if you will excuse me, we are docking aboard my flagship.”

And with that, the conversation was over.

* * *

 “Come in, Captain,” Admiral Nagao said. He was sitting in his palatial day cabin with his hands folded on the desk. “There is something I wanted to discuss with you. Please sit down.”

Captain Traci Ganner sat down in the chair in front of Nagao’s desk.

“Captain, you understand you will not be allowed to return to the Terran fleet. I’m sorry for the friends and comrades you have lost as part of your assignment.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said.

“However, on behalf of the Orion council, I can offer this minor consolation.” Nagao smiled as he pulled a small black velvet case with a small silver band from his desk drawer. He stood up and walked over to where Traci was seated.

“If you will stand, please,” Nagao said in his smooth, easygoing voice.

Captain Ganner complied. As she stood, he took the gold and diamond encrusted medal from its case and placed it in his palm for her to see. It was the Orion Star of Valor, one of the highest awards given in service to an Orion naval officer. As he slipped its ribbon over her head, he stepped back and saluted her with the closed fist salute of the Orion navy. Shocked, she returned the salute with her best effort and stood there speechless.

“Now, as for your next assignment. You are still too junior for a promotion to Commodore, but I don’t see any reason you should not be given a, er, preparatory assignment, as it were.”

Stepping back to his desk, he turned the monitor around for her to see. Displayed on the monitor was the Orion battle cruiser Adamantine. This particular ship was not known to her, so she scanned its registry for some clue as to its capability and fleet assignment.

“The Adamantine is one of our newest cloaking battle cruisers. It has all of the capabilities that you would expect of a ship of this size, with two caveats. First, it has an second generation cloaking device, which means it can remain completely undetectable at up to half speed.”

“And second?” she asked.

Silence filled the cabin as Captain Ganner braced herself. Could there possibly be something more dangerous than what she had already endured?

Admiral Nagao cocked his head to one side and crossed his arms. “We need you to make contact with the Valdi,” he said.

CONTINUE READING FOR A SNEAK PEAK AT TRACI GANNER’S NEXT ASSIGNMENT

THE ORION GAMBIT

  By Brian Jeffreys

"Commander, we’ve been able to piece a few more sentences together based on the basic vocabulary we have been collecting.  We can now make out basic order statements and some detailed dialog,” Lt. Commander Lazarus reported.

Captain McKenzie had integrated into Captain Traci Ganner’s command staff as her executive officer.  Although she already had a fine exec, he was really far more useful overseeing the vocabulary translation they were attempting by monitoring signals being sent between Valdi star cruisers and strike carriers.  So, to free Lazarus up for that far more important mission objective, she had slotted McKenzie into the number one slot.

It was somewhat unsettling for Michael McKenzie to go from a heavy cruiser command to senior commander under Captain Ganner, but he really didn’t mind so much.  After all, Adamantine was a battle cruiser.  And she was not just any battle cruiser, but one of the new Orion cloaking cruisers.  But what made this cruiser so special was what the Orions had done to her cargo and munitions space.

When Captain Ganner had given him the tour of this ship, he had not expected to find the eight large boat bays amidships in addition to the normal shuttle craft bays in the aft section.  The hull had been refitted to allow four shuttle bays to face out of each side of the keel, which allowed for eight additional berths.  But in addition to the berthing spaces, there were also missile loading platforms and refueling depots for strike fighter operations to take place in those bays.

At first it struck him odd that the berths would be built to support fighters, since Orion did not have any.  But then, the mission profile made it clear what their purpose was.  These berths also included carbon dioxide partitions to allow Valdi to breathe in the same compartment as humans.  These berths were designed for Valdi strike fighters!

Captain Ganner’s mission profile had called for McKenzie to be extracted from the Terran prison world, but he had never expected to be on such a stupid mission.  Not only were they instructed to contact the Valdi, but the ship was designed to become a Valdi strike carrier.

McKenzie forced his mind back to the task at hand and reviewed the new vocabulary sequences Lazarus was showing him.  By monitoring Valdi communications, utilizing the stealth of their cloaked ship, they had been able to piece together some of the syntax of the Valdi language.  Strangely, the Valdi seemed to rely completely on visible light as a transmission medium.  They had modulated their communication signal in a very clever way that took the engineering section days to break down, but now that they had it, they were taking in huge chunks of data and running it through very sophisticated linguistic computer systems--systems designed specifically for learning language.

The latest syntax additions brought their total knowledge of the Valdi language to around sixteen percent.  It was a scant portion of the overall language, to be sure, but enough to build a basic vocabulary on.  And as they improved their vocabulary, they were able to contextually reason out the words they didn’t know.  Of course, some words they would not be able to translate without direct interaction, but those words could wait.  All they needed for the first stage was enough vocabulary to understand basic military orders.  Once they had that, they could move to the next phase of their mission.

“Captain, we have multiple scanner contacts bearing one ninety-two and eighty-eight off the plane,” Lieutenant Melzar said.

“Sound yellow alert, Lieutenant,” Ganner said.  Leaning back in her chair, she switched on the 1MC channel for ship-wide communication.

“This is Captain Ganner.  We have picked up multiple Terran and Orion beacons entering the Antares system.  In moments, the Valdi reserve fleet we have been monitoring will begin to engage with the incoming relief forces, or they will retreat out-system.  In any event, our mission remains unchanged.  We must not allow ourselves to be detected.  If the Valdi fall back to Sol, we will fall back with them to cover our use of the hyperspace lane and keep them within sensor range.  Under no circumstances is any member of this crew to make contact outside of this ship.  That is all.”

As she finished the message, she crossed her legs and folded her hands across one knee.  She studied the icons showing up on the small plotting station attached to her chair and then focused her attention on the master plot at the front of the bridge.  The battle was going to be grisly, with the number of Valdi forces she had already observed.  Unfortunately, she was not able to communicate with the incoming Terran forces.  They were not to know she was there.

As the Valdi forces brought their energy signatures up to full alert, Lazarus turned to Commander McKenzie.  “We just intercepted a message loop from Valdi strike carrier alpha-three-three.  It looks like their captain is aboard a shuttle and returning from a mission briefing.  He will rendezvous with alpha-three-three in ten minutes.  The strike carrier is beginning to change course to intercept his shuttle, sir.”

Traci was looking at Commander Lazarus with a shark’s grin on her face.  “This is it, gentlemen.  Let’s pick him up.”

* * *

Valdi Captain Zuarit was reviewing the latest tactical imagery of the in-system battle as his shuttle made its way furiously back to his ship.  He had been in conference aboard the carrier flagship when the alert had come in.  He and his medical officer had immediately ordered their shuttle preflighted and then rushed to the shuttle bay.  Once aboard, he had ordered his ship to advance with the other carriers and pick him up en route.

What Captain Zuarit did not plan to see was the large, bright opening in space that appeared directly in front of his shuttle as he was making the approach.  The landing bay of his own ship was not yet visible, so this didn’t make any sense.  It made even less sense when a tractor beam grabbed his shuttle and swallowed it whole and forced it into the mysterious shuttle bay in space.  His shuttle was rudely parked in the center of the bay, and the bright opening ceased to be visible from the outside as the bay doors closed and the cloaking device hid them from view.

At first, Zuarit tried to contact his ship and get a reading on what they were seeing.  But then, the shuttle doors were being forced open from the outside, and the interlock alarms started to wail, indicating loss of cabin pressure.  This was bad.  Before he could get a sidearm out of the shuttle locker, the doors opened, and a rich mixture of