NaNo 2009 - Part 5

Alright. Still behind. 24632/28339. Enjoy.

Jakob awoke with a struggle. He found himself strapped into his sleep suit, but with no clear memory on how he ended up there. Although, he did remember finishing off the bottle that Marie had given him and figured that his headache, which seemed to burst into pain with every heart beat. He showered and dressed as quickly as possible in such an uncoordinated state. He stopped by the main medical bay and was given a mild analgesic by Marissa, who promptly shooed him towards the door. Traveling, and slowly recovering, to the mess hall, the commander joined the officer’s table.


Taking several minutes to massage his temples while the drugs began to work, Jakob finally felt more alert and able to finally eat. Sitting down, his fellow officers seemed to constantly look away, mistaking his headache as a brooding mood. Finally deciding on simple peanut butter flavored meal, he found the dispenser that occupied the center of the room was completely out of it, as well as mashed potatoes, apple pie, and steak. Rushed by the small line of sailors behind him, Jakob blindly grabbed the nearest packet and returned to the officer’s table. To his disappointment, he had picked baked salmon. Slowly eating the pureed food from the small packet, Jakob observed the crew in the mess.

A good number seemed to be eating alone or not even talking with the comrades around them. All, except the civilian scientists in the corner, wore an expression of exhaustion, one that cut deeper than the rigorous battles experienced by the crew over the past month. Grimacing as he finished off his dinner, or breakfast, the tall, dark haired commander left the mess hall, unsure if the expression was from the fishy gruel or his faltering companions.

Passing the bridge crew wordlessly, Jakob entered the map room to finish off his reports. Swinging open the hatch, he found Marie, already hard at work inside. Smiling and sitting next to her, he asked, “How’s your head?”

She paused her repetitive button mashing and stared into his eyes curiously, her head slightly askew. “Oh!” she exclaimed, “did I not give you the antidote to the Quinzolo last night?”

“Antidote?” questioned the first officer, skeptically. “Why would there be an antidote to liquor?”

She giggled slightly, an atypical sound from the new commander, and responded, “Well, yes and no! Quinzolo has more flavor components that break down into alcohol over time, so one bottle will keep you done for awhile. But it produces more acetyl aldehyde…” She pointed at her temple and tapped it a few times. “You know, the stuff that causes headaches when you drink. The antidote, which costs almost as much as a bottle, binds all of the gunk and actually makes you feel pretty good.” She smiled broadly before turning back towards the large screen.

Without warning, a lieutenant swung open the map room door, “Sir, Ma’am, Commanders!” shrilled the young officer, “we’ve just made contact with the battleship. It’s ours! Commander Okado wants to speak with you, Commander Hanson.”

Jakob nodded, dismissively at the communications officer. “Be there soon.” Turning towards Marie again, he smiled, “Well, some good news at least. Oh, and I need you to remind me to talk with you about morale later.”

Returning to the bridge, Jakob sunk down in the command chair, which had been repaired along with most of the rest of the damages taken in the recent fighting. “Commander Okado!” called out the first mate.

Katsuro, who still looked very pale and much worse for wear and whose voice a slow drip of exhaustion, replied, “Jakob. We have successfully completed our mission. Our team has lost four men between the two teams with many more injured.” He gasped for a second. “Including myself. The entire bridge crew is dead, and a large portion of the remaining skeleton crew seems willing to transfer into the Confederacy and just do their job.” He winced in deep pain. “Great strategy, Commander, just needed more troops and it would’ve been a damn fine tactic. I’ll begin sending over the exact numbers so you all can do your computing and find out what we need.”

“Thank you, Katsuro. Alexia out.”

Jakob stared intently at the control pad, watching the upload progress from the battleship. The schematics zoomed past as a full picture of the once enemy ship began rendering with the remaining crew, supplies, and the ships capabilities. He jerked suddenly as a hand came to rest on his shoulder.

Looking up, he saw Marie had come from the map room to look over his shoulder at the incoming data. Her eyes immediately snapped into a focus, scanning the information for everything useful. Standing quiet for minutes, she finally released a large smile, “I’ve got an idea.”



The Enyo, mark II, was born from the tattered remains of the Imperial battleship, now Lieutenant Commander Magda Blair occupying the vessel. Katsuro was stronger, but still confined to the medical center with four of his other GASSers. Katsuro, who had to be restrained to keep him in the bed, complained loudly of the treatment.

“Dammit you! Is this any way to treat a warrior!?” he exclaimed towards Marissa, as Marie entered the sickbay. “Marissa, come on. Let me free.”

Watching amusedly for a few minutes, Marie cleared her throat and approached the commander. “Commander Okado. Feeling better? First, I’m supposed to thank you on behalf of the Confederation for sieging and storming a large enemy vessel and for capturing it intact. If you’d like to transfer to the ship, that would be your call. Named for our lost sister ship, the battleship has been dubbed the Enyo mark two.”

Katsuro smiled at this, adding “I heard about what happened on the bridge. Has he really gone that far?” Marie nodded hesitantly, and Katsuro continued, “If it gets much worse, it might be him on the line, instead of you two.”

Katsuro gritted his teeth. Marie was about to ask if it were pain when a call echoed down, “Commanders Hanson and Fields, this is the captain. Please report to the bridge.”



Jakob quickly intercepted Marie as they walked briskly towards the bridge, “Any ideas?”

Marie only shook her head, “No. We’re not due to depart for a few more days. The Enyo two isn’t quite operational yet, but the staff is fully on board.”

Jakob nodded in agreement as they began the ascent to the bridge. Floating out into the open space of the bridge, the captain stood at the ledge, beaming down at the two approaching commanders.

“Commander Hanson, Commander Fields, I thought I’d be the first to let you know what was going on, so you wouldn’t have to read about it later. As I know you know, Commander Fields, and you probably know Commander Hanson, there is a set of commands that are not only restricted in protocol, but unable to be viewed by anyone besides the captain. In fact, to my knowledge, a Confederate ship has only used one restricted protocol since their creation many years ago, until today.“ The captain depressed the button representing the all call feature before announcing, “Attention all Valiant Confederation of Forces, we are beginning restricted protocol, dubbed Operation Firestorm. Your local officers will be receiving instructions immediately.”

Looking back at the two commanders, he continued, “Sorry, decided to initiate it anyway. But I need to brief both of you and I expect you to perform your duties flawlessly. The computer and telemetry is going to take some time to determine the optimum targets. Let’s go to the map room, shall we?

With the three of them squeezed into the small room, the captain continued again, “Operation Firestorm is designed to demoralize and cripple an enemy’s forces. It uses a concept of guerilla warfare, where we minimize contact with the enemy, why striking with maximum damage. This will allow one ship to increase not only its standing, but also to slowly whittle down the enemy.”

“Sir,” Marie interjected, “do we know who sent those ships to attack the Hiro?”

The captain avoided eye contact and spoke quickly, “I am… I am aware of who perpetrated those attacks, yes. It is them that we’ll be going after.”

Noticing the change, but ignoring it, Jakob asked, “What will you have us do, sir? Are we to prepare engagements based on the protocol?”

“Nay,” replied the captain hastily, “I need you both to stay out of my way and follow my orders. This is still for captain’s eyes only and you’re not going to tear it apart, looking for flaws and what nots. I need both of you to be willing to listen to me and follow my commands. I will be taking care of this whole thing myself. Got me?”

Both commanders gritted their teeth, replying, “Aye, captain.”

“Excellent! Excellent,” muttered back the captain. “We depart from the area in two hours. Make ready the quantum thread.”

“Sir, the Enyo two…” replied Marie, but the captain’s glare cut her off before she finished the phrase. “Aye, sir.”

The two left the room, leaving the captain sitting, staring at the map.



Two hours later the captain strolled into the bridge, and instead of proceeding to the command chair, he decided to pace the lower bridge, pretending an inspection. The reduced staff glanced around nervously whenever the captain was looking away. After talking to himself briefly, he pushed himself up to the upper bridge and, without as much as a nod to the prepared commanders, sank down into the command chair.

“Commanders. I’ve entered the coordinates. Begin quantum threading. All hands, orange alert!” The officers all over the bridge sprung to life, their hands churning over the glowing, multicolor keyboards. The ship rattled in an almost happy familiar way, like a dog about to pounce, as the needle formed in front of the ship. The radiant cone began at the nose of the ship and began extending out into space.

The starry landscape behind the bright light rippled until it solidified, looking like gems under a pile of cracked glass. The needle took off into the fractured space, invisibly piercing the emptiness, and drug the Alexia behind it, stretching the ship and its inhabitants across the entire course that the quantum computer had mapped out.

To the Enyo the whole process completed in a matter of a minutes, but on board the sudden wave of nausea and rapid change in pressure lasted what could have felt like hours to the most susceptible. Despite the uncomfortable side effects, most Confederation crews had been selected to withstand the illness and the gains, often light years worth of travel, were well worth the discomfort.

Marie had no problem with the process of threading. Like her shipmates, she had minimal negative reaction to the travel, but she hated the resolution. No one could know how each person would react to being dragged across parsecs of space, but most could agree that the traveler would not feel the best on the opposite side. For Marie, as she had complained every time it occurred when she was off duty, it was a simultaneous reaction to a loud screeching sound, like metal scraping across stone, and all of her skin feeling prickly and getting goose bumps.

The ship resolved still out in distant space. She first checked her main command station screen, noting that the ship had performed exceptionally and traveled through thirty seven different points in space over about twelve seconds. The tail of the Alexia arrived about fifty seconds later, completing the threading.

Marie shook her head quickly and yawned, attempting to pop her ears, which almost always felt stuffed up to sailors. She then began calculating where the ship had finally arrived. Calling it out, she said, “Sir, we’ve arrived at Imperial moon base F22516. Sensors show that everything is normal at the installation.”

“Perfect. Commander Hanson, prepare a firing solution for the base. Aim at escape craft and communications devices at the first pass,” ordered the captain, wearing a slowly widening grin. “Commander Fields, I want you to see to it that any probe, drone, or buoy leaving the facility is immediately demolished.”

Her brow furrowed, which when unnoticed by the captain, “Aye, sir.” Looking towards Jakob, she found that his eyes and hands were darting across the entire command display, programming in sequences for attack. Slowly turning back to her own station, she saw him pause for a deep breath and dive deeply back into the tactics and simulations.

Rechecking in with all duty stations throughout the ship as well as scanning over Jakob’s code, Marie was intently focused on her work when the captain has sneakily sidled behind her and spoke in a whisper, “Remember, we do this my way.”

She replied through tightly clenched teeth, “Aye, sir.”

The ship engaged the station, receiving no return fire. Jakob turned in his chair, “Sir, the station is unarmed!”

“Lies!” answered back the captain in a bearish roar. “Keep pressing the attack. Marie, eliminate the probes!”

Frantically, Marie scoured her data searching fro small probes, even checking spatial dust anomalies for cloaked or stealth devices. After ten minutes and the ship had already completed another pass on the passive station, she announced, slightly showing her annoyance with the captain, “No sign of anything besides debris leaving the station, sir.”

“Check again,” yowled the captain return.

A third pass on the mining station, a fourth, and the location never returned fire. Scanning through the drifting debris, Jakob was able to locate a few human remains, ‘it was occupied, after all’ was a disappointing and the only thought floating in the first officer’s brain. The ship was lining up for a fifth pass, when he had to ask, “Sir, do we intend to board the mining station? The engagement manual says a region in this condition is defeat, and its crew taken prisoner.”

“Damn the manual. Obliterate it!” He normally deep baritone voice spiking into a shrill yell.

Without any intervention, the ship continued its villainous war path, bearing down and crushing the station, dislodging it from the rocky surface of a planet devoid of atmosphere. “Sir,” began Jakob, “No word had ever emerged from the station, since communication towers of the enemy were the first targeted, I highly doubt they managed a burst signal with a surprise attack like ours and the limited equipment.”

“Expected survivors?” asked the captain shortly.

Marie chimed in this time, already beginning the analysis, “Captain, at the rate of air loss for the whole facility, as well as raw damage for habitable areas and assuming that the station crew was near sixty, I expect perhaps…” She hesitated, checking the math, “perhaps two survivors.”

Her frown increased exponentially to distraught when the captain replied, “Excellent! Fire another volley and move us into position for another threading.”

“Sir! That’s not…” began Jakob.

The captain, prepared for an outburst from them, responded coolly, “Commanders, need I remind you of our conversation after our last encounter? I am very serious about my punishment for your continued disobedience.”

Both replied in hushed tones, “Aye sir.” Their eyes dropped to the floor, each one fighting to restrain the comments from spewing. The captain turned and smiled appreciatively and knowingly, before he turned and strolled from the upper bride. Calling out to the supportive lower bridge, the captain congratulated them all on their victory. He spent a few minutes discussing with a few greener recruits that had moved up to the bridge since a portion of the crew was now deployed on the Enyo. Shouting up towards where Jakob and Marie continued to work, the captain said, “I’ll be in my office. Come see me when you’re ready.”



The pair continued working on data analysis, but with very little conversation and absolutely no breaks for alcohol. Moving the ship near the sun, a few hours away at a good speed, the commanders finally were able to retire for some long absent rest. They awoke and rejoined company in the mess hall, eating breakfast in silence, until they were joined by the two other commander equivalent officers.

Commander Katsuro Okado was not directly attached to the Alexia or Captain Reynolds. A commodore presided over all strike forces in a fleet’s command group and was generally stationed on the command ship. Despite the chain of command, most GASS commanders were under orders to listen to the ship’s captain. Doctor Marissa Deville served the master medical officer for the Valiant Confederacy and did not report directly to the captain to prevent any bias in medical care for crewmen.

The four commanders sat in a brief silence, the normal outside noise seemed to fall outside them. Finally, Katsuro broke the silence, “So they were just miners, after all?”

Marie nodded slowly. “Yeah. There were no defenses. The ore wasn’t expensive, so the Empire never invested in a patrol or weaponry. No communications besides two birthday notes sent out over the past three months. The location is isolated, remote, there’s not reason for the captain to have attacked the based.”

“What is Firestorm exactly? Captain’s keeping it a secret and all the information that I… we looked at was encrypted or coded. I mean, how long have those protocols been on file…” added Jakob, unsure of what to make of the whole situation.

Once again the alarm rang out, citing an orange alert. The captain’s voice crackled across the intercom, “Attention Alexia crew! Prepare for quantum threading!”

Jakob bolted up quickly, crashing his knee into the table because the benches were fixed and attached. After briefly cursing himself and his scraped throbbing knee, he turned his attention back to the table’s occupants. “But, but! We’re not on the bridge. We haven’t recharged the fuel cells from the last jump.“ The first officer sighed heavily, before adding, “To the bridge, something needs to change.”

The quartet arrive in the bridge and saw only a minimalist crew, with the captain camped out in the command chair, drumming his fingertips of the side of the armrest. “Sir,” Jakob called up, “May we see you in private?”

Standing when he was called, the captain glared scornfully at the group before acquiescing, “Fine. Meet me in my office.”

The group reentered the access shaft and entered the office, waiting a few minutes for him to finally enter. The captain was slightly more massive than Katsuro, but not nearly as fit and well toned. After ducking under the hatch and slamming it shut, he jarred the locking latch upwards. Slowing walking towards his desk, Clifford began, “So… commanders, what was so important that you couldn’t say it in public and couldn’t even wait for the threading to complete.”

“Well, captain,” said Jakob, stepping forward slightly, “We are very concerned with recent actions that you’ve taken independently. Namely the activation of some secret protocol that apparently calls for the attack, rather annihilation, of a remote, insignificant, and unarmed mining station. It’s unjust and immoral! And we…”

“Stop right there, boy,” interrupted the captain with a vicious growl. “You don’t know what’s going on. What’s the whole story. I’m doing this for a reason, dammit! Operation Firestorm is designed to cut the supply lines and demoralize the civilian base! We’re at war now and we’re going to fight to the death in it! What, fifty people died on the station, well, there’s going to be a great deal more to follow. I’ve already chosen the next target, probably armed this time, and I can’t trust you! Any of you! To listen to my orders and to do the right thing. You’re no worse than traitors! You’re all relieved of command, awaiting a court marshal. I intend to seek death on all of you traitors.”

Marie burst out this time, “So removing us, the ones that run this ship while you sit in your office and stare into space or play with your damn sand in the dark is going to lead you to anything but death! Listen to reason sir! We can join another Confederate group and rebound. Besides who are we at war with? And who are you to believe that you’re right, when you purposefully destroy entire bases, that aren’t strategic, that aren’t even armed. Your blood lust madness and craving of death, leaves you to be unfit for duty.”

“You just don’t understand! Honor, sacrifice, respect… what has the Valiant Confederation of Forces come from when commanders, not ensigns, commanders are traitors. A confederation of heathens!”

“Sir, I’ve been biding my time for weeks now. Your mental state is making you instable,” added Marissa, attempting to keep her voice as even and stable as possible, while trying to be both heard and authoritative. “As Chief Medical Officer, I’m relieving you of command!”

“Like hell you are! I’m going to court marshal you and see your treacherous corpse jettisoned into a meteor.”

“You have no authority over me, you crazed tyrant! And after I finish removing you, I’m going to quit this stupid army! Your reckless and stupid behavior has led us into five times the normal conflicts, with each one more dangerous than the last.”

Leaping over the table, surprisingly fast for his size, his large hand clasped around her throat. He drove her back into the far wall, both his hands trying to squeeze the life from her neck. The raw force had her suspended a foot from the ground and was indenting onto the wall.

Despite his slow recovery, Katsuro relied on his covert operation training to spring to action. He covered the distance of the room almost instantly. His powerful elbow and arm wrapped around the captain, attempting to yank him away. The intense training finally kicked in, and Katsuro Okado ended the conflict and a tug and a snap. In the one solid move, the cringing, echoing snap of the neck, bounced about the sealed chamber. Katsuro relaxed his arms and allow the now lifeless body crumble to the floor with an almost as terrifying thud. Katsuro rushed to Marissa’s side, while Jakob and Marie could only gape at the dead.

Sinking to the nearest chair, Jakob spoke softly, “To the once respectable Clifford Reynolds, captain of the Valiant Confederation of Forces cruiser, the Alexia, rest well.”