Op File Sanction Page 11

  All of the stiffness in the officer’s back faded and he slumped. As Diosa suspected, he was a desk jockey. Maybe a good analyst but certainly not a field agent.

  “Explain yourself before I cut off your uniform and hand your naked butt over to the Marines for some coddling and cozy time,” advised Diosa.

  The smile on the woman’s face confused him. Was she teasing? Then, he noted the knife. Held loosely in her hand, it bounced in her fingers as if the blade couldn’t decide where to stab first.

  “I received an inquiry notice to investigate The Talon, and its occupants,” the officer replied. “There was a subsection warning of possible aggression by the crew.”

  “And who authorized the investigation?” Diosa asked.

  “It was a general request from Planet Dos Security,” he said.

  “Thank you, commander,” Diosa added. “Now get off my ship.”

  “But you haven’t answered my questions?” he pointed out.

  “We’re simply technical advisers for scanners and record storage,” Diosa lied. “The weapons are for demonstrations. Please, we are on a tight schedule.”

  After a small and futile discussion, the officer took his confused Marines back to the patrol boat. It launched and Walden curled up on the sofa and began recalculating his route.

  “I’m puzzled Diosa,” Walden asked. “What was that about?”

  “We learned two things,” Diosa said from the pilot’s seat where she watched the patrol boat fade into space. “Other agencies and organizations are interested in what we’re doing.”

  “Is that a good thing or bad?” he inquired between typing in formulas.

  “If they are our organizations, it’s fine. They may just want to get ahead of anything we find that reflects badly on them,” she explained. “But if it’s the Empress’ network of spies in powerful positions, it presents a different challenge for us.”

  “Don’t we have enough challenges?” he pleaded.

  Chapter 12 - GCNS Doric Pillar

  The Galactic Council Navy Ship Doric Pillar was a bulldog of a warship. Built for escort duty, she boasted a blue ion wall making her capable of long runs and maneuverability. Both benefits from the ion drive supported her mission as a lone watchdog for convoys of merchant and Navy supply vessels. While they had little offensive weapons, the Doric Pillar bristled with them.

  “Talon, you are cleared for intake number four,” flight control directed.

  “Thank you, Doric Pillar. Dropping power and approaching intake tube four,” Walden replied.

  Diosa’s monitor was slaved to the hull cameras giving her an excellent view of the warship.

  “She’s smaller than the ships with Striker detachments or Marine Divisions,” Diosa commented. “I haven’t spent time on ships that size.”

  “The Pillar may seem petite compared to the cruiser class or a battleship. But, look at the number of torpedo tubes, missile silos, and the gun and rocket batteries,” Walden pointed out. “Add in the gunships and a wing of fighters for flight assets and you have a formidable warship.”

  Their converted yacht zoomed to a ring of lights marking a black hole. Once through the lights, The Talon shot down the intake tube, through the air curtains, and dropped onto a landing deck and a waiting sled. Unlike Orbital Station with levels of docking, the sled carried them a short distance to one of the widely spaced piers. They exited to the dock while clamps wrapped around The Talon’s hull and the sled.

  Their ship lifted and rotated away to join other patrol boats on a massive carousel. Moving ramps, some extended, allowed crews and personnel access to the suspended spaceships.

  “Are you the reps from Observable Data Industries?” asked a Navy ensign. Although she marched in the direction of Diosa and Walden, her eyes were lifted and studying the odd profile of The Talon.

  “It’s an experimental model,” Poet stated to save her the trouble of asking about The Talon. “I’m Walden Geboren. My associate is Diosa Alberich.”

  “Welcome aboard Mr. Geboren, Ms. Alberich,” the naval officer greeted them. “I’m Vanesa Serafin, the officer in charge of the sensor technicians.”

  “Nice to meet you Ensign Serafin. Call me Walden,” Poet suggested. “We’re here to inspect your sensor system. I expect there is a protocol to be observed.”

  “Yes sir. The Captain wants a word with you before you begin,” Vanesa confirmed. “If you’ll follow me.”

  A Marine stood guard at the hatch of the boat storage deck. At the intersection of every major corridor and ladder, they passed another Marine sentry.

  “Are you at general quarters?” inquired Diosa.

  “No ma’am. We’re halfway through the A-line,” Ensign Serafin informed her. “The Captain will explain.”

  She directed them up a series of ships’ ladders to higher decks. When the walls transformed from Navy grey to wood paneling, Diosa knew they had entered officer country.

  “The Captain should be along shortly,” Serafin said while holding the door to a conference room for Diosa and Walden. “There are coffee and cookies. Please help yourselves.”

  All three took coffee. Only Walden scooped up a handful of cookies to go with the java. He balanced the tall stack on top of his mug and cross the room holding the snacks in place with his left hand. At the conference table, Diosa assisted him by pulling out a chair.

  “The shipboard baker is excellent,” Walden proclaimed as he shoved half a cookie into his mouth. “You should try one.”

  “If those were chips or fries, I’d be all over them,” remarked Diosa. “But sweets, no thanks.”

  “I can order chips,” Ensign Serafin offered.

  “No ma’am, I’m fine,” Diosa replied forgetting for a moment she was a civilian and not a Marine NCO addressing the naval officer.

  ***

  “Mr. Geboren, Ms. Alberich, I’m Yuto Taiki,” the captain of the Doric Pillar said as he came through the hatchway in quick, poised steps.

  “Captain,” Diosa, Walden, and Vanesa greeted him while jumping to their feet.

  “As you were. I just wanted a word with you before you touched my sensors,” Taiki informed them. “While on the Attack line, this ship is on alert around the watches. Across the transition zone is an Empress fleet designed to kill us and sweep into the rest of the Galactic Realm. They will not pass easily. The Doric Pillar and three other escort ships are patrolling on a racetrack pattern. Why your bosses decided to check my systems on the front line instead of waiting until we’re on the steady and safe backtrack, I can’t fathom.”

  “Your sensors were exposed to a brilliant, precipitous event,” volunteered Walden. “We’re here to survey the prism wafers to assure they maintained their integrity and sufficiently captured the event in the data banks. Our assignment is to examine, not to dismantle, Captain.”

  “I’m glad to hear that,” Taiki said before adding. “You will follow Ensign Serafin’s instructions and will not run any tests while we are on the forward track of our zig zag.”

  “We understand, sir,” Walden assured him.

  “Carry on,” Taiki ordered before doing a crisp about-face.

  Before he reached the hatch, Diosa called to him.

  “Captain, with your permission,” she requested. “I need to make a video call, sir.”

  “We are running silent,” Taiki informed her as he turned to face the room. “There is no way to contact a civilian organization. Even if they do supply the Navy with sensors.”

  “It not Observable Data Industries I need to reach, captain,” Diosa told him. “It’s special warfare command.”

  Taiki studied the fit looking woman with the goggle over her eye. If she wasn’t dressed in a company uniform and had an obvious disability, she could be a member of special forces.

  “I’ll grant you one-half hour of transmission time,” he announced. “Again, only during our track away from the zone.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Diosa said.

  Captain
Yuto Taiki marched out of the room and Vanesa Serafin turned to her charges.

  “We have three hours before the course change,” the ensign stated. “If you like, we can begin a visual inspection of the sensor array controls.”

  “I’d rather start with the data banks,” Walden advised.

  “Very good, sir,” Serafin acknowledged. “Please follow me.”

  ***

  Diosa stood with Vanesa as Walden scrolled through screen after screen on his pad. Every so often, he glanced up and proclaimed, “Excellent retrieval.”

  The naval officer assumed he referred to the information attained by readings from the ship’s sensors. Diosa knew he meant the download was filling out the scrubbed data they had been given.

  “Ms. Alberich?” a Lance Corporal asked from outside the hatch.

  “Here, Marine.”

  “Ma’am, I’m to escort you to communications,” he announced. “at your leisure.”

  “Walden. I’ve got to make a call, carry on without me,” Diosa instructed.

  She joined the Marine and they left the sensor maintenance department. One deck up, he left her at the entrance to the radio room.

  “In ten minutes, we’ll come about to an inward track,” a Petty Officer explained. “The captain has granted you a half hour. But he wants you on and off so as not to interfere with the ship videos and reports to fleet.”

  “Thank you, Chief,” Diosa said. “Please contact Admiral Folkert of Special Naval Operations for Master Sergeant Diosa Alberich, retired.”

  The radioman gave her a nod and a hard look before he instructed, “Stand by, Sergeant.”

  Whether it was the rank, the retired, or the request to reach the SNO she wasn’t sure. In any case, the information would be all over the ship shortly. Marines don’t reach the rank of Master Sergeant at such a young age then retire unless they were brilliant NCOs or from special operations.

  Three minutes later, he turned from his instrument panel and pointed at a security pod. “The Admiral is coming to the feed.”

  Diosa closed the door and flipped on the screen. Galactic Council Navy, Doric Pillar appeared on the screen in large block letters. The words faded, the screen displayed static for a moment before the face of an older man appeared. While the long face had deep wrinkles, his eyes flashed with vigor. He pointed a knife hand at the monitor.

  “I have teams stranded on Construction Station, a fleet in tatters, and cowards for commanders,” Admiral Folkert barked. With each pronouncement, he chopped with the hand, accenting each phrase. “Now I get a surprise call from my best team leader. And when she calls, it’s never a good sign. What can I do for you, Warlock?”

  Years before, shipboard clearing operations had taken an unnecessary toll on the Marines. Admiral Folkert proposed a special unit trained to assault heavily fortified corridors. The result was highly trained specialists known as Strikers. Their founder still commanded the division.

  “Sir, I have a request. But I can’t reveal the why or for whom,” Diosa stated. “I’ll have to ask you to trust my word that it’s for the good of the Galactic Council Realm.”

  “I was going to ask how retirement was treating you. But, you’re at the transition zone on a warship,” Folkert responded. “That’s a very odd spot for a vacation. What can I do for you, Master Sergeant?”

  ***

  Ten minutes later, the radioman noticed the woman as she stepped out of the security pod. When she leaned against the structure and folded her arms, he inquired, “Do you need directions?”

  “No Chief, just marking time,” Diosa replied.

  Seconds later, he received a call on the ship’s phone.

  “You are to report to the captain’s duty cabin,” he relayed.

  Diosa left the communications section and climbed another ladder to the bridge. A Marine greeted her and directed the former Striker to a hatch off the bridge.

  “Permission to enter, sir,” she said from the doorway of the cabin.

  “Get in here,” Taiki ordered. As Diosa approached his desk, the captain scolded her. “I don’t appreciate being lied to and having special forces board my ship under false pretenses.”

  “Sir, you are correct about me but, Walden Geboren is qualified to survey and evaluate your scanner system,” Diosa said in her pilot’s defense. “I assume you communicated with Admiral Folkert.”

  “The Admiral and I did correspond and it’s an odd and insane request,” Taiki related. “I’m to locate a Constabulary warship. That’s easy enough. We track them all. However, assisting you in any way that doesn’t endanger my ship, to board said warship is ridiculous. My personal opinion aside, what do you need?”

  “Provided I can reach the ship, how do I enter it?” questioned Diosa. “A hatch opening is sure to be noticed. And an explosion to breach the hull definitely will draw a crowd.”

  “You obviously only spent time on cruisers and battleships,” Captain Taiki replied. “On ships like the Doric Pillar and most of the Constabulary escort ships on their side, we institute the Harrising Procedure during combat.”

  “I’m not aware of the procedure, sir,” admitted Diosa “How will that help me?”

  “We don’t have the storage capacity or volume of larger ships. Before we engage, we drain the air out of our resupply docks and open the exterior doors,” Taiki explained. “The air is held in reserve to replenish lost atmosphere and the open bays give us a place to vent smoke and gases in the event of interior damage.”

  “You’re saying the Constabulary ship will have doors open and I can just fly in?” blurted out Diosa.

  “Certainly, if they’re under attack,” Taiki added. “But I cannot take the Pillar over the zone. Not without orders from Command Station.”

  “Captain, there is a reason I’m not contacting Command about this operation,” Diosa informed him. “I have reason to believe they have an Empress spy working on the Station.”

  “That is a serious allegation. What proof do you have?”

  “The destruction of the Sorcha Innis, captain.”

  Yuto Taiki settled back in his chair, held up his hands, and spread his fingers.

  “I’ve been a captain of an escort vessel for ten years,” he stated. “In all those years, I’ve never lost a cargo ship. Until the tramp steamer and now I know why. It was an ambush. What else do you need Ms. Alberich?”

  “My call sign is Warlock and I need to speak with the officer in charge of your Marine detachment.”

  ***

  “Excuse my bluntness, Master Sergeant Alberich but, that is a stupid idea,” offered ship’s Company, Captain Mei Kan, Galactic Council Marine Corps. “The Constabulary will put a rocket up your posterior before you even get close.”

  “That’s why I wanted to speak with you, captain,” Diosa informed her. “I need advice from your best gunner about the biggest, portable paroxysm for my pesetas.”

  “You’re going to arm your yacht. That makes sense. Can’t imagine the fun it’ll be going against a warship with a tossed together patrol boat,” pondered Kan. “And I suppose you could use an assault team to hold the supply bay.”

  “I know you’re joking, ma’am,” Diosa responded to the jest. “A Recon or a Striker team would help but this is a low priority mission and there’s no time to requisition them.”

  “There are three Marines in my detachment who came from rifle companies,” Kan explained. “All three line up at my hatch whenever a patrol boat is scheduled to launch. They’ve been begging for some action. Your mission should fit their requirements.”

  “Captain, this is purely voluntary,” Diosa informed the Marine Corps officer.

  “When have you not had Marines rush to the head of a line for even the most hairbrained mission?” Kan inquired.

  “Thank you, ma’am,” Diosa acknowledged.

  “One more thing, Warlock,” Captain Mei Kan instructed. “Bring my Marines back alive.”

  ***

  Diosa located Walden in
the sensor section meeting space. Standing at the front of a semicircle of chairs occupied by sailors, the researcher had everyone’s attention.

  “Observable Data’s latest research demonstrates a cycling of sensors during intense events prevents imaging lag,” Poet explained.

  “You want us to lower power or cycle off positions when we need it the most?” questioned Vanesa.

  “Not at all Ensign Serafin,” Walden assured her. “Tests reveal varying sensor power between ninety-eight and ninety-three percent for five seconds every ten minutes gives you steadier readings.”

  “Is it the processor?” Vanesa queried.

  “The computer has more than enough,” Walden stated. “It’s the sensor wafers. Waves of returning signals and light variances cause microscopic flexing of the prism collectors. I’m sure you’ve noticed a fleeting double image or a negligible skip while tracking a target.”

  Everyone in the room nodded at the description.

  “By fluctuating the power, you lower the input and allow them to reform,” Walden continued. “This is all in microseconds and only an operational suggestion. If you decide not to apply it or forget to, your existing procedures are sufficient for the mission. Any questions?”

  “Will we be getting replacement units?” a sensor specialist in the rear asked.

  “That will be up to the Navy’s procurement department,” Walden replied.

  He fielded a few more questions before Ensign Serafin thanked him and the meeting broke into groups to discuss the new information. Walden strolled across the room to Diosa.

  “Where did you get all that?” inquired Warlock.

  “I hacked into Observable Data Industries’ system before we left Orbital Station,” Walden told her. “They just received a lecture that’s scheduled for when the ship comes off the racetrack.”

  “Speaking of coming off the patrol circuit,” Diosa offered as she guided them out of the room. “We’re going to go and get your Constabulary codes.”

  “We are? Of course, we are, because you are Warlock and you don’t let little things like a galactic conflict stand in your way,” Walden stammered. Then he steadied and asked. “How did you get the Navy to agree to take the Doric Pillar across the Dos, Tres transition zone?”