“Captain, Aurora Tactical Three hasn’t checked in,” the comm officer said. “They’ve gone Elvis, Sir.”
“How long overdue are they?” Captain Ken Nakamura, skipper of the Parallax asked. He had replaced Joshua Carter as captain of Parallax only a few weeks before, when Carter was promoted to skipper of Nautilus. Still getting used to his new command, Nakamura squirmed in his command chair.
“It’s been 30 minutes since their last check-in, Sir.”
“That’s not like Gagnon … he’s as punctual as he is polite. Crazy Canuck. Have you tried hailing him?”
“Continually, for the last half-hour, Sir.”
“And nothing?” Nakamura glanced over his shoulder at the comm station. The comm officer shook his head slowly. Nakamura was pensive as he released a heavy sigh.
“I’m loath to send out another TR-3B. If they are in trouble, we could lose both.” He turned back to the comm. “How long until our scheduled rendezvous with Deep Space Platform Two?”
“Four hours, Sir.”
“Four hours … to Luhman 16 and back … no way. We can’t do it. Did Gagnon manage to deploy any sensor buoys?”
“Yes, Sir. They started sending telemetry, but then they went silent about 45 minutes later.”
“And so it begins …”
Nakamura leapt from his seat and headed off the command deck. “Comm, get me Command on a secure channel, and pipe it down to my office. Then contact Dreadnaught and tell them to prepare for a deep space mission to the Luhman 16 star system. Tell Captain Reed to rendezvous with us at Neptune and prepare for the worst. Helm, plot a speed course to Neptune and execute. Comm, get me Admiral Maddox on the horn.
“Now!”
Parallax and Dreadnaught sped towards Luhman 16 at maximum FTL. At their current speed, a normal trip of 28 hours became eight, travelling at just under a light year an hour. Everyone could feel a mild hum in the deck plates as the three massive MFD’s were being pushed to their safety ratings as they pulsated with sufficient power to propel them at such extreme speed.
Nakamura’s report to Maddox had forced the admiral to put the entire Solar Warden Program on high alert. Every ship, bird, base, and deep space platform raised their DEFCON level, and every attempt was made to speed up their preparations. Much to Maddox’s relief, the repairs to Avarice were almost complete. Her skipper walked the passageways and compartments, observing as everyone down to the crewman with the lowest rating manning a plasma welder redoubled their efforts in order to get the carrier space-worthy and back on the line. At one point he was sure he saw the cook tightening socket cap screws on a conduit joint.
Nakamura sat in his captain’s chair and fidgeted. He had no idea what they would encounter when they arrived. Will we find Gagnon and his crew safe, or will we find a fleet of enemy mother ships, ready to pounce?
In the eight hours it took to reach their destination, he ran his crew through a series of attack simulations and drills, and he was sure Captain Reed was doing the same aboard Dreadnaught. Whatever they discovered, he wanted to make sure he and his crew was going to be ready.
“Helm, mark position.”
“We’re 15 minutes out, Captain.” Nakamura sat up straight in his chair and leaned forward to peer at the navigational display.
“All right everyone, look alive!” He cast a glance around at his command deck crew. A goodly group of officers. Too bad he didn’t have time to get to know them better before flying into battle. “Science station, begin active scanning of the system. I want to know if there’s a flea sitting on a dog’s ear out there. Tactical–when we’re five minutes out, sound general quarters. Make sure our cloak is functional, our shields are up, and our weapons are hot. I don’t want any surprises when we drop to sub-light.”
“Captain, Dreadnaught is hailing us.”
“Put it up on the display, Comm.” The ARI monitor flashed, and Captain Reed’s countenance filled the screen.
“Parallax, report status.”
“We’re green across the board. Your scans picking up anything?”
“Negative. Sensors show no unusual activity. You said your bird managed to deploy some sensor buoys, but they went dark after a while. Have you managed to re-activate them?”
Nakamura shook his head. “If they’re still out there, they’re dead as a doornail. I’m more worried about my pilot and his crew. We’ve scanned for them, but can’t get a reading at this distance.”
“How do you want to handle this?”
“Well, since it’s my bird we’re after, I’ll take point. We’ll drop out of FTL at the co-ordinates the last sensor buoy signal was transmitting from, and check their status. Then we’ll begin to sweep the system, and hopefully we can locate my bird and her crew intact.”
“Roger that. You head in, and I shall follow hard upon.”
“Whatever happens, we don’t split up.”
“Dreadnaught copies.”
“Parallax out.”
“We’re five minutes out, Sir.” Navigation announced.
“Alright ladies and gentlemen, stay frosty. Tactical! Sound general quarters!”
Lieutenant Commander Gagnon’s TR-3B drifted in a listless spin between planet number two, the second gas giant they had scanned, and the little lump of iron that was planet number one.
Out of nowhere, the Solar Warden carriers approached the silent bird as it spun in a gentle arc in quiet, cold space. A tractor beam was deployed, which stopped the lazy revolving motion of the bird, then drew it towards the now opening hangar bay doors of Parallax. Dreadnaught took up a defensive position and stood watch while her sister ship retrieved its wounded tiercel.
“What’s wrong with them, Doc?” Captain Nakamura asked his CMO as he peered at Gagnon and his flight crew, lying in their sick bay beds, as still and silent as death.
“As far as I can tell, nothing. Physically.”
“And other than physically?”
“Well,” the doctor said as he sighed, “they all have normal brain activity, but it’s like a switch has been turned off in each of them … and I’m at a loss to know how to turn it back on.”
“Are we talking some kind of coma here?”
The doctor frowned and shook his head. “Yes … and no.”
“Which is it?”
The doctor stared at the three officers, silent, trying to determine the most accurate response. After several moments of nervous hush, he spoke, “It’s not a full-on coma, Skipper. If it was, their brain activity would be much more subdued. It’s more like a very deep sleep, almost as if they’ve been anesthetized. Delta wave activity is high. But there are no drugs of any kind in their system. I have to admit, this one’s got me stumped.”
“Will they wake up?”
“Unknown. Until I can discover the cause, I can’t say for sure if they’ll ever revive.”
“Have you checked for implants?”
“One of the first things we did.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
“You know, Doc, we all have an emergency distress beacon implanted in our necks, made of biological material so the enemy can’t scan for it. They might be using something similar. See if you can come up with a way to detect such a beast.”
“I already thought of that. We gave all three a full body scan, but couldn’t find anything. But I’ll give it another try. Have you found anything unusual with the ship?”
“Not yet. Our technicians are going over it as we speak. So far, nothing. The only thing they could find wrong was that it was completely drained of power. Every micro-joule.”
“Don’t the TR-3B’s use zero-point energy collectors like this vessel?”
“Yes, but they were off-line. It appears nothing’s been physically tampered with–the collectors were switched off and they ran out of juice. Same scenario with the sensor buoys. They’ve all been powered back up and redeployed, and they’re pinging away like good little heishi.” A look of concern flashed across the captain’s face. “I’m wondering if the enemy has some new kind of weapon.”
“If you’re right, then we need to find out what it is and how to defend against it. Fast.”
“I agree. I’m on my way to contact Command and file a report as soon as I leave here.” Nakamura stared at his three inert crewmen for a moment. “Doc, try putting your three patients in an isolation chamber. Activate a dampening field, and crank it. See if that’ll wake them up. If not, then at least you can rule out any implants you may have missed.”