Chapter 2

Chapter:  02

Noticed

Captain Dennis Miguel of the USS Galveston had been summoned to Union Naval headquarters Annapolis City on Arsenal IV. His ship was currently getting updates and refits and would be in the drydock area for a few months.

While it was not uncommon for a ship commander to receive such orders, he still somewhat perplexed as to the reasoning behind the behest to HQUNSFA. (Headquarters Union Naval Spatial Fleet, Annapolis)   Although he was not unhappy as this chain of events worked nicely into his plans as he wished to meet with Lt. Commander Anya Cruse. He knew her from their time together at the War College, at Trilanpols. While they were lovers, they had never gotten beyond the  FWB ("friend with benefits") stage, partially because he was a starship captain and she was the tactical officer aboard the most powerful ship known to exist, the USS Devastator. Neither one wished to forfeit the career they had developed. It was extremely rare for both to be in the same quadrant, even more so in the same system. Several of his civilian friends could not understand why they found it so difficult to be together. He had tried several times to explain that even though there was almost instantaneous movement between planets. Rarely did the navy allow their commanders to broadcast where they were or how long they were to be at a given location. His explanation about secrecy went in one of their ears and out the other. While the Galveston was in space drydock and tied up for possible six months, the Dever would leave in a few days. He was hopeful the matter at HQ would not last exceptionally long as he genuinely wishes to see her.

There weren't many reasons for a captain to be ordered to report to Fleet HQ. One primary purpose was the loss of the command due to some grave errors. Another was to be transferred to a new Theater or to receive a promotion. He could not think of a reason why they would strip him of his command, and he was reasonably certain he was not in line for a Rear Admiral Star. He would hate to lose the captaincy of the Galveston. Even though she was only a Merrimack Class Destroyer, she was his first command.

On the other hand, if they would offer him the command of a cruiser or even a super cruiser he would certainly not decline. The chances of a captain of a real battleship or a carrier were slim to non-existing at this point of his career, but one never knew. He did hear the scuttlebutt about the four brand new battleships that would be delivered any day now to Arsenal IV.

He walked into the stately lobby featuring marble columns, floor, and brass accessories, with the warm wooden paneling. It was an impressive entry in a very subdued elegant manner. To the left, a wall with the golden nameplates of every ship ever lost separated according to battle lose or unknown. Like a giant conveyor belt the plates kept slowly moving up, it had to be many thousands of names. To the right a floor to ceiling field screen listing all ships currently in service along with the name of the commanding officer. Against all hope, he paused for a moment and wondered if the Galveston would scroll by. The listing was alphabetically sorted and currently at Letter K. It would take many months before it reached G again. The ceiling was a projection of the M/0 Galaxy displaying the Union territory in blue. He stepped up to the horseshoe-shaped reception desk and a Kilonian with Lieutenant rank bars wiggled its antennae and greeted him. "Good Morning Captain Miguel, the Admiral of the Fleet is expecting you. Please take IBT 4. It is preset for you, and you only, and will drop you off at the top floor."

Captain Miguel thanked the Centipede and went to the designated IBT. He did feel more than a little nervous. Being called by the Admiral of the Fleet was very much like being called by God. Admiral McElligott was an immortal and in charge of the Fleet ever since it all began. That in its' self was a fantastic feat since the Union was over 3000 years old.

At first, only an Admiral of United Earth, but after the founding of the Union, elevated to Admiral of the Fleet, the highest authority in the Union Fleet. His tenure over the centuries never questioned or doubted. Many believed he was a minor deity, but he consistently denied that claim. He claimed that he was at the right place at the right time and the gods of war chose him to further their cause, that of a righteous and just rule.

Dennis had never seen or talked to the Immortal Admiral, and as he rode the Inter-Building Transport up to the top floor of this monumental building of 12,000 meters height, he thought hard if he had done something that would warrant the interest of this legendary, mystical Flag Officer.

An officer with the rank of commander saluted Dennis, stating, "Please step right on through, the Admiral is aware you are here and awaits your presence."

Dennis returned the saluted and went through a set of wooden doors into an austerely furnished office with a modest old fashioned wooden desk. The Union flag in one corner and the Flag of the Spatial Navy in the other. He snapped into attention and rendered a salute with immense precision. The Admiral of the Fleet stood by the windows that gave a spectacular view over the sprawling modern town below and the harsh cold desert beyond. The admiral turned, waves an off-handed salute, while saying, "At ease, Captain Miguel and good morning."

Dennis relaxed only a fraction and said, "Good Morning Sir."

The Admiral was not very tall and a little on the chubby side. He had almost completely white hair and the face of someone looking between hundred fifty and two hundred years of age but made a very vital and healthy impression otherwise. He wore a simple black uniform with the five-star cluster on his coat sleeves and collar and a skirt exposing his stubby knees. Of course, everyone in the fleet knew, this was kilt, not a skirt, the traditional uniform of the Admiral's home region on Earth.

As he looked into the Admiral's eyes, he knew this man was far beyond the age of any normal human being, and there was more to this man than just a very long life span.

"First things first, there is no reason to be alarmed. Richard and I were discussing your response to that planetary attack incident a year ago." The Admiral pointed his flat hand, directing his attention, to a person sitting in a leather couch. Dennis could not help but swallow. The man so casually introduced as Richard was none other than Admiral Richard Stahl, another Terra human, made immortal at the same time as McElligott.

Admiral Stahl, aka the Eternal Warrior, was known the galaxy over and respectfully feared by both friend and enemy alike.

Physically muscular and tall he appeared to be much younger than McElligott. Dennis quickly estimated his age to be no older than 100 years old but knew better. He wore his short blonde hair in an extremely short marine corps hair cut on the sides and perhaps one inch long on top. The best description of his face would be heroic, with a distinctive strong jawline, soft barely noticeable bags under eyes of piercing blue and a thin, pale scar running from under his left eye to a point one-half inch above the corner of his mouth. Clean-shaven without the trace of premaRemoval, which indicates he shaves daily. Stahl nodded a greeting and pointed at an empty comfortable looking chair. Dennis easily felt the power and authority that enveloped this man of destiny.

McElligott strolled purposefully from the window and sat at his desk, a HoloImage displaying a report appeared floating above his work station. The image was readable from any direction. "As I was saying, Captain, we came across your report shortly before summoning you.  I am sorry it took so long.  Blatantly filing away the attempted destruction of a Union world with a classified fleet weapon is not something taken lightly.  It should have sounded multiple alarms across the fleet." He spread his arms in an apologetic gesture and added. "The following is FYEO, we have found some covert/clandestine irregularities in our data system.  These actions were not confined to one section of the Union, but were widespread and followed a certain civilian Ultimega corporation.  Yes, it is under severe intel watch, and the Fleet is slowing dropping it as a major supplier. We are currently upgrading our Computronic Main System. It will take a while for NELSON II, our new encryption system, to be operational and fully online."

Captain Miguel was not sure what they wanted him to say, but he decided to be candid and forthright, " Sir, I was not aware of the tampering, but we knew something was not right. Many times action on reports took too long and went over too many desks without anyone having enough authority or the guts to escalate matters when necessary.  This matter was doubly troubling because it presented hard facts, of a conspiracy between military and civilian personnel involvement.  It brought back the old earth military saying "REMF's."  I and others expected a hearing, an investigation, and an uproar from the Assembly, but nothing appeared to happen. The theft of a P Bomb should have been on every news channel, and the thieves publicly tried, convicted and then executed."

Stahl theatrically cleared his throat and McElligott agreed.

"Yes Captain Miguel we are aware of that, and that is why we are implementing Project Nelson II in the first place. Our Union is growing faster than anyone logically anticipated, and so is our fleet."

"At no point in the history of any society known to us has an organization as big as our spatial navy existed.  At the same time private and public held corporations are rivaling the Fleet in sheer size and power.  All time-proven methods of administration are wholly inadequate.   Everyone lauds the battle and combat victories of my esteemed colleague, but no one has the foggy idea of what it means to keep it all working. Do you know how many personnel transfers we are processing every day? How many promotions?   Add it that the problems these corporations endure, as they do not have even the hint of an oath to hold their personnel in check." McElligott sighed, "However, this is neither here nor there."

"Some questions arose from your report and required answers.  We originally planned to query you via secure GalNet but found that you were to be in-system, so we brought you here for a one-on-one discussion instead of having it over the Galnet."

Stahl interrupted. "Did you truthfully write submarine in your report or was that the closest you could come to describe the vessel?

"Yes Sir, Submarine was written and was correct.  It was an old SII Mil-Tech Product for the Markan Wars.  Designed to be a primarily a submarine and fight in the oceans of those twin planets, but it was also enabled to go between planets.  They proved to be a dominant force in the war."

Stahl looked in the distance."Ah yes, the Markan Conflict, let's see if I remember correctly. Nulofan the Fourth was finally arrested but only after he nuked the daylights out of Markan II."

He refocused on Miguel."We got the reasons and the outcome out of your report. Also of interest was the finding there are several human immortals involved.  But I am more interested in the details of this little engagement of Submarine versus Space Bus. That has to be a first."

Dennis with some relief of tension laughed heartily. "Yes Sir, I am sure it was a first, but the young commander of that boat has my deepest respect, Sir. The space bus was armed and carried a P Bomb. The Sub had only very rudimentary sensors, no ISAH pods and much of its space systems had not been used in 550 years and were on the verge of giving out. Even with those handicaps the guy and his all-female crew of three managed to shoot the P Bomb, manual targeting I might add, survive a direct double blast of a Class four FTEs. Then, without weapons or shields left, rammed that space bus head on and dramatically plowed right through it. No hesitation, no fear about their safety. They did save their planet and over two million inhabitants. The boat lost one of its crew, a girl fixing the busted fuel lines after extinguishing a plasma fire.  She died when the hull fractured sucked the air out of the engineering section."

"Nilfeheim you say?  Never really heard of that planet." Stahl said.

McElligott responded before Miguel could. "It is an ocean world, P191 Culture, very restrictive on tech and minimal contact to the rest of the Union compared to other old Colonies. Remember the Neo Viking Pirates? They came from there."

"Oh, right now I remember. A group of Neo-Vikings stole a ship from a neighboring planet, and then attempted to board a battleship at one time If I recall correctly."

McElligott looked at a readout. "You know they have their very first Academy applicant. He signed up in the Pre-Entry program at the age of 15 and renewed every year.  He should be ready to join this year, and if I read this report correctly, he has the same name as the commander of that Sub, Eric Olafson. Let me correct that, it is the same person."

Stahl leaned forward with a sudden glitter in his eyes. "What did the recruiter write as his main interest?"

Obrock McElligott smiled knowing his old friend well. "It says here, that he wants to become a starship captain."

"I believe I will keep an eye on this Olafson."