Chapter 44: Chapter 43: Unexpected Guest
Joseph Borak
The Commander, Daniel Venata, was the most peculiar man I'd ever met. His countenance was that of an old, war-torn veteran, grim and unsmiling at all hours of the day. His face, particularly the scar over his left eye, always made me unsure how he saw me.
In the week since giving him the location of Project Glass, I'd been relegated to an observation chair near the back of the room. It was designed like a semi-circular staircase, with the Commander at the apex, tactical one layer below him, communications below him, and navigation at the bottom. A massive panoramic view from the forward optical sensors was projected on the wall, showing a beautiful expanse of stars, planets, and cosmic debris floating peacefully just beyond the Venator's hull.
Commander Venata was sitting in his captain's chair, surrounded by projected screens and control stations. His bridge crew was the quietest and most efficient group of people I'd ever seen. I'd deduced that they communicated through some neural link, silently conversing with each other and the other departments. As impressive as that was, it did not compare to the Venator herself.
For some reason, the Commander was unafraid of exposing the technological marvels wrapped in the beautiful warship. From the weapons to the sensor, the Savatorre Engine to the Hovarth Drive, and the Marines to the Drone Bay, this ship was leaps and bounds beyond anything I knew in the Empire or the Federation.
I'd been lucky enough to be present when the Commander had run a training simulation yesterday. I thought he'd been nuts to put his Light Cruiser up against two Linkol-Class Heavy Cruisers. Still, the Venator had practically walked through the battle, sustaining only minor damage in return for easily destroying the other two vessels.
Gregor and Amelia spent their time in the ship's engineering section, studying the Drive and Engines as we sailed through space. My head of security spent most of his time with the Marines, drilling with them at both the range and Tactical training area. Linus had opted to remain in my suite for the duration since the drones that managed the residential level did his job better than he ever could.
I chuckled a little at the thought of my steward. At first, Robert Linus had been devastated that he'd become obsolete in the face of such precision, but in time he'd evolved into the laziest man in the history of laziness. The man barely left the stewards quarters attached to my suite, relaxing like a courtier with various shows and foods provided by SAI.
As my thoughts turned to the AI that seemed integral to the ship's operation, I couldn't help feeling a little nervous. I'd been raised with the same horror stories about rogue AI as almost any child in the galaxy. AI was described as barely tamed monsters who would go rogue at the slightest loosening of their governing parameters.
SAI's control over the Venator did not worry the Commander, however. He routinely conversed with the intelligence, although those conversations always took place privately.
I sighed, leaning back in the comfortable chair I used to observe the bridge. As I sat quietly, a bit of commotion seemed to ripple across the crew, and the Commander sat forward in his chair. He tossed a glance at me before turning to focus on his consoles. I wasn't sure what was happening when he started speaking out loud.
"Joseph." The clipped tone made my curiosity spike. The Commander made a habit of speaking in rough tones that seemed to stretch between his words. I served to make him sound very authoritative, so the abrupt voice he used got my attention.
"Commander?"
"How many warships did you say would be protecting Project Glass?"
"Ah, 2-3 Linkol-Class Heavy Cruisers, sir. One rotates out every six months, so I wasn't sure how many would be there when were arrived."
The Commander's voice became thunderous, rumbling over me like a tidal wave.
'"Then why, pray tell, is there a Deimon-Class BattleCruiser on the station?"
My eyes widened, and I turned to look at the massive viewscreen. I was shocked when I saw that we had arrived at the location I'd given for Project Glass. My shock must have been evident since the Commander's voice boomed again but with less force than before.
"Boy, did you somehow give me the wrong coordinates, dropping me and my ship near an active Defense System?"
Defense Systems were essentially pickets for the Navy, serving as early warning stations for the main body.
"No, Sir. That station there..." I pointed to a large floating mass hidden between asteroids.
"... Is definitely where I picked up the tech you took. I have no idea what that ship's doing here. I don't even recognize the class!"
My voice squeaked a little, but I couldn't help it. My mind whirred, trying to figure out what had happened. There had been only two Linkols in the system when I'd arrived with the Clar, and I couldn't imagine why the Navy would deploy a Battlecruiser unless something truly significant had prompted the move.
The Commander stared at me hard, and I could almost imagine a thundercloud brewing behind his blue eyes. After a moment of tense silence, he turned away from me.
"I'll believe you for now, but take care not to break the trust you've built these past few weeks."
He relaxed back into his chair, and it occurred to me that, somehow, the Venator had seen the Battlecruiser, but it seemed not to notice us at all. It floated silently just a few thousand kilometers from the station, its sharp-edged body gleaming in the sunlight.
"Why doesn't it see us?" I thought aloud.
The Commander spoke without turning.
"It's unable to see through our stealth systems. Theirs, however, is primitive in comparison so that we can see right through it."
My eyes locked onto the unmoving frame of the Commander. He'd said that his techs had reverse-engineered the Stealth system I was carrying, but I had doubts about his success.
There were two places off-limits to my crew and me. One was the sensor suite, which had bummed Gregor out to no end. The other had been whatever the ship used as a Lab. The techs that Commander Venata employed knew their business and seemed to have a frightening ability to maintain such an advanced warship.
As I became lost in thought, the door to the bridge opened. In walked five people dressed in a curious camouflage scheme. It was mottled black, grey, and blue, which looked sharp and intimidating to my own eyes. One man towered over the others, and I recognized him as Lt. Lincoln. His dark eyes swept over me before coming to attention along with his comrades.
In the week since setting out for Project Glass, the Commander had seemed to pull two more platoons from some hidden compartment, and he now had a company's worth of Marines at his command. I wondered how he found the room for them, but I had been unable to see the Marine's barracks. The Commander had not expressly restricted access, but enough glares from some very well-muscled people dampened my curiosity.
One person, a woman, stepped forward, her green eyes straight ahead.
"Commander, 1st Company's officers as requested." Her voice was as straight as her posture, and her tone held obvious respect for her commander.
The Commander in question rotated in his chair, standing to return the salute to the four men.
"Thank you, Captain Ronova. You and your lieutenants can join me in the Strategic Center. Bring the boy with you." With that, the Commander turned on his heels, striding for another door to the left of the Tactical Stations. None of the bridges rose to join them, which I found odd, but I was distracted when a large hand landed on my back. I looked up to see the face of Lt. Lincoln, and he steered me toward the SC with a smile.
As we passed through the door, I marveled at the simple beauty that defined the room. In the center was a holographic projector that displayed the station, the mysterious Battlecruiser, and the two heavy cruisers at relative distances. Data bits appeared next to each entity, describing each warship's predicted hull integrity, that component makeup, and their weapon systems.
I sat in a chair against the wall while the Marines and the Commander occupied their positions around the table. Once everyone was seated, the Commander's eyes swept over each person's face, judging their moods.
"Alright, it seems the situation has changed. Instead of two Heavy cruisers, we will be dealing with an additional Battlecruiser. I called you here to hear your thoughts about what this does to our strategy and how we can improve our chances of success."
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