Tracking Tantor: The Missions of the TFS Pike, #2

1: TFS Pike

Stardate 12408.31

Nobody ever said starship command would always be exciting, Chloe thought before clearing her throat again. Commander’s mission log, Stardate 12408.31. She stopped and sighed. Hermes, cancel.

Recording stopped and erased.

Colonel Chloe Resler, mission commander of the Terran Federation Starship Christopher J. Pike, took a frustrated sip of her coffee. Her Chief of Staff, Commander Caedyn Martinez, looked blandly across their cup and waited.

They didn’t have to wait long.

Hermes.

Yes, Colonel?

Forget it.

Yes, Colonel. The voice of Hermes, the command AI for the Pike, was brimming with exaggerated patience. He wasn’t a simple machine, but a sentient citizen of the Terran Federation. And, as Chloe knew, capable of exquisite sarcasm when provoked.

Having an issue, Chloe?

Chloe glared across the desk. I’m stuck on how to start this report. It’s been almost a week since we left Tantor’s star, and it’s been the same every day. I don’t know another way to say, Same shit, different day.

And there’s going to be another six weeks of it. Commander Martinez suppressed an inappropriate grin at their commander’s discomfiture.

Chloe groaned. "Don’t remind me. To top it all off, if this turns out to be a wild goose chase, we’re going to be nearly fifteen thousand light-years in the wrong direction."

Chloe closed her eyes, reviewing the decisions that had led them to this point and wondering what she could have done differently. Half a day after departing the rogue planet, the Pike arrived at Tantor’s origin point, or as near as their AIs could compute. Of course, the computations were off, and they’d lost a day finding the star and charting the remaining planetary system, a collection of relatively boring gas giants and captured asteroid moons. They dropped a warp buoy and transmitted their findings back to Terra before departing.

Perhaps lost was the wrong word. After all, Team Tantor, as the scientists at the heart of the investigation dubbed themselves, had used the data gleaned from their survey to establish their subsequent trajectory. Since then?

Off into the black. Day after day of high-warp travel, with no prospect of relief in sight. It was the scope of the endeavor which was sinking in. Follow the track of the ancient Tantorians, according to Admiral Cassidy. Simple enough, but the execution was more complicated.

Now they had another piece of the puzzle. Team Tantor learned where the Tantorians had gone; this was the major upshot of the diversion to the star system. The variables in the stellar cartography data recovered from Tantor had been computed, and now they could follow. It was the distance which gave them pause: eleven thousand, four hundred light-years.

Even at their maximum cruise speed, warp 9.5, this was going to take them fifty-four days, almost eight weeks, and only a week had elapsed.

I don’t know about the wrong direction, Caedyn said. Our original orders were fairly flexible, and the Admiral authorized the diversion. She’s the head of our branch, so...

Chloe nodded. You have a point. Still, history doesn’t remember the explorers who didn’t find anything.

Caedyn snorted. Like we haven’t? Chloe, we found the remains of an ancient race of intelligent aliens. That alone puts you in the history books. They cocked their head. I didn’t think history’s view of you was a concern?

"It’s not, not really. But being the first Explorer class ship? We only have one chance to set the standard."

Which you’re doing. But I think you’re trying to avoid the log.

Chloe grimaced. Caught me.

If you want my advice?

Chloe rolled her eyes. Hello? Chief of staff? Yes, please.

You know what they say, Chloe. Start at the beginning. Pretty good advice.

Great. I get platitudes. I could have just had a fortune cookie, but whatever. Hermes.

Colonel? She definitely sensed that Hermes’ patience was nearing an end.

She cleared her throat. Record.

Recording.

Commander’s Log. Insert the Stardate and our current position and speed. En route to coordinates recovered from the Tantorian database. Systems functioning within design parameters. Personnel reaction to the change in mission has been positive. End recording and save.

Recording stopped. Anything else, Colonel?

No, Hermes. Chloe noticed Caedyn’s frown. What did I miss?

Nothing that belongs in the log, but an issue we should address. Personnel. Yes, they’re handling the change well. So far. If we were keeping to schedule, we’d be on a down day tomorrow. I believe you’re planning to skip it?

Now Chloe wore a matching frown. Yes, she cautiously answered. I thought having a fifty-four-day mission would be a large enough chunk without adding another week.

People are creatures of habit, Chloe. While we’ve only been in space a little more than a month, the weekly maintenance day has become one of those habits. Taking it away would prove disruptive. It gives a needed break in the routine. And I’ve heard grumbles about the mission, the diversion, Team Tantor, you name it. Give the grumblers something to focus on, and that could turn to action.

Chloe didn’t disguise her shock, her eyes sliding to the concealed emergency hatch. Since the Nike, safeguards had been put in place to prevent the capture of command staff. As the mission commander, Chloe’s ready room had a second exit, unknown to everyone except the ship AI and her Chief of Staff. If everything went sideways, she’d be able to get away from the bridge. After that? Who knew. Are you really talking about a mutiny?

Caedyn, to their credit, didn’t flinch. Possibly.

Chloe dropped her head into her hands. "Fuck. I do not need this."

It’s a reality. Or a potential reality.

You think Porter would do anything? Ken Porter was officially the Captain of the Pike. For the first weeks, he’d been passively resistant to Chloe’s command, resentful of her position. Matters had come to a head during the search for the missing landing party, and Chloe had temporarily relieved him of his command. The situation was resolved during the ten days they’d spent in orbit of Tantor by an evening’s discussion between the two, or at least so Chloe believed.

Now she wasn’t so sure.

Possibly.

Almost involuntarily, Chloe’s hands slammed onto her desk. Can’t you say anything else?

I’m sorry, Chloe. Diplomatic training, remember? We were big on covering your ass. State nothing categorically. And getting the tone and tenor of four thousand crew is a far cry from cornering an irritated diplomat. Caedyn closed their eyes in thought for a moment. I doubt it; at least, not now. I think pulling him from his command for a week convinced him you were serious. Restoring his command without making him feel obligated, without placing a quid pro quo on it, allowed him to save his dignity. Unless the situation changes, you don’t have to worry about Porter starting anything.

Chloe’s laugh was bitter. One down, three thousand, nine hundred, ninety-nine to go.

Exactly my point, Chloe. I do my best, but I can’t keep my finger on the pulse of the entire crew. You know how it is with malcontents. No matter how you try to keep them separate, they always find a way to each other.

Chloe nodded. "I had that issue on the Defiant. Too right they find each other."

The simplest method of avoiding issues would be to stick to the schedule. Ask Tori and Lexie. I wager they’d both appreciate keeping to their usual training schedules. Captain Tori Monaco commanded the Marine company aboard. Captain Lexie Marsh commanded the various small craft assigned to the Pike. Both commanders used the weekly halts to get their personnel off-ship for live-fire exercises and flight practice out of simulators.

I don’t need to ask, Chloe said. I know enough to pour piss out of my boot. Hermes, get me Captain Marsh.

The wait wasn’t significant, though Lexie’s voice sounded stressed, almost out of breath. Marsh.

Lexie? Did I catch you at a bad time?

No, Colonel. Chloe thought she could hear something which gave the lie to Lexie’s words, but if she’d talk now, then talk Chloe would.

I’m going to confirm the weekly maintenance day for tomorrow. I’ll need your Coyotes scouting a likely system.

Aye, Ma’am. She didn’t say, Anything else? but it was certainly implied.

Thank you. Out. Chloe turned back to Caedyn. Well, I’m sure her pilots will be happy to get off this tin can. She paused, recalling the conversation. Did Lexie sound distracted, or was it just me?

LEXIE RELEASED A MOAN, which was answered by Lauren’s giggle. This elicited another moan.

Told you I wasn’t going to stop, Lauren said with a pleased grin.

With a final shudder, Lexie sank back into the pillows. She released her grip on Lauren and tried to catch her breath.

Dammit, Laur! she huffed at last. Lexie’s partner rolled away, laughing and reaching for a glass of water.

Oh, spare me your false outrage! Tell me you weren’t enjoying what I was doing. Go ahead, I dare you.

Lexie flushed a deeper shade of red.

Ha! I knew you couldn’t. Lauren returned to the bed and started kissing her way across Lexie’s body.

Lexie tore her attention away from what Lauren was doing and pitched her voice low. Laur.

Hmm? It was surprising how innocent she could act, considering what she was doing. Lexie idly wondered if it was the freckles.

You are...in such...trouble.

You’ve got to catch me first. They both ignored the body-length skin-to-skin contact.

Brat, muttered Lexie. Keeping her mind on work was nearly impossible, but she shot a quick set of orders to James Hamilton, the Coyote wing commander, then returned her attention to Lauren.

Priorities.

2: Coyote Rasmussen; TFS Pike

Stardate 12408.31

J oel, I’ve got a maybe on scanners.

Where, Tommy?

Shooting you the coordinates. Ensign Tom Fullgrabe’s fingers flew over his console.

The Rasmussen was scouting for a system which, according to the brains on the Pike, was eight or nine light-years in this direction. It made more sense to use a scoutship for, well, scouting than diverting the massive Pike. And if Joel Higginbotham, Senior Lieutenant and commander of the Coyote, was being honest? It was nice to get out of the big tin can for a while, even if it was into a much smaller tin can.

Charlie.

The scoutship’s Beta-class AI awoke. What’s up, Joel? His chosen voice was an older male, raspy but confident.

Are you seeing what Tommy’s seeing?

I am, Joel. It matches the parameters provided by Commander Yager.

Good enough for me. Tim, lay in a course. Ensign Tim Thacker was Rasmussen’s usual helmsman, and he’d been following the conversation. It wasn’t difficult, with the main cabin eight meters long by four wide. The close quarters also led inevitably to a much more informal take on the usual command structure. Formality was one of the first things out the airlock to make space.

So far, it all worked.

Speed?

Let me ask. Double D!

Richard Dikeman, saddled with the nickname Double D, was the engineer and first officer. Although Charlie could manage the compact starship’s routine operations, a human engineer was part of the personnel requirement imposed by Starfleet Exploration.

How are we looking?

The drive’s in good shape. We can hold warp seven for as long as you need. Standard cruising speed was warp six, but Dikeman constantly tinkered with his baby and could coax extra endurance from it at will. The difference between six and seven was a fifth-order function: warp six would allow them to cover the eight light-years in nine hours. Warp seven covered the same ground in four. It was impressive, but the Raz was a scoutship. The Pike could manage it in twenty-six minutes without working hard.

Four hours?

What part of as long as you need was unclear? Double D’s sarcasm could have carved the duralloy.

You heard him, Tim. Tommy, catch a quick nap and some food if you need it. You’ve got two hours, then you’re back on duty.

Aye, Joel. What’s the drill?

Pull every scrap of data from the sensors you can until we know if we’ve hit pay dirt or a dead end.

Tommy was already on his feet. See you in two.

THE BRIDGE WAS HUMMING with activity. The Pike rested at the rough center of a sphere twenty light-years across. A half-dozen Coyotes had been dispatched to potentially useful systems to investigate, and the reports were coming in.

Commander? Lt. Tony Lizzi called for Kassidy’s attention.

What do you have, Tony?

"Maybe the best of the lot. From the Rasmussen."

Hit me.

Lizzi sent a command, and a hologram appeared above his station.

Standard K-type star, coolish, estimated at between ten and twelve billion years old. Cometary cloud, at about two light-years, Kuiper belt at one light-year, multiple planetary signatures.

Yager nodded. Her background was on the science side of Starfleet, before she’d accepted the promotion to First Officer aboard the Pike. K-type stars were like cucumber to ‘cats, as their long, stable life allowed for development of life on any planets orbiting the star. Sounds promising. Ticks all the boxes, even for us science geeks. Anything else come close?

"The Decker is approaching a G-type star, but it’s a young one. A few million years, maybe. Planetary disk, no planets."

And flying into a junkyard is probably contraindicated, Kassidy agreed. Planetary disks were the birthplace of planets but were packed with navigational hazards. Despite the fascination with seeing a star system born, it wasn’t a place for a ship four kilometers long. "Keep Decker on station, and get them in as close as they can manage, but I think we’ll skip a visit. Anything else?"

"Kirk has a white dwarf, nothing but cinders in the system, and Zarlo’s reporting a red giant."

We’ve stumbled on the entire spectrum, Kassidy observed with a frown. It might be worthwhile staying an extra day to do some exploration into how they’ve all evolved.

If the Colonel will allow it, Lizzi agreed.

"Good point. Okay, Tony. I think our best bet’s the K. Let Rasmussen know I want every detail they can squeeze from their sensors. Fold, spindle, and mutilate the data. Everyone else stays with their targets until they hear from us."

Aye, Ma’am. Lizzi turned to send the messages, and Kassidy headed for Captain Porter’s command station. He had a seat next to Colonel Resler, on a podium at the rear center of the bridge, where they could oversee the activity below. There were five chairs plus a pair of workstations, but Porter sat by himself.

Captain, Kassidy said when she’d reached the top of the platform. Porter was unusual in the Pike’s officers for his adherence to the forms and formalities of command. This was uncommon in Starfleet, but it arose from his background in the former Solarian Union’s navy, and institutional memory was hard to erase.

He acknowledged her presence without any fanfare. Commander. Progress?

Yes, sir. She described the Rasmussen’s find, and he nodded in appreciation.

Sounds like an excellent opportunity for Marsh and Monaco’s people.

And my Division. I’d like to use some Wolves to bring teams down to any surfaces they can reach and do more hands-on exploration. Practice makes perfect.

Quite so. Coordinate with Captain Marsh. He raised a hand to his head in what could be construed as a salute, dismissing her.

Sir. Kassidy was already sending instructions.

3: TFS Pike; Unnamed K-type Star System

Stardate 12408.31

Y ou’re sure about this , Captain?

Captain Tori Monaco, Starfleet Marine Corps, commander of the Burnham Company, looked at her First Sergeant. While she expected, even demanded, feedback from her subordinates, outright questioning was unusual.

What do you mean, Maggie?

Maggie Crampton returned the look with interest. Captain, we’re Marines. Jarheads. Why are we trying to turn our people into scientists?

They were having this discussion in Tori’s primary office, deep in the heart of the Pike, and far away from any eavesdroppers. Tori and Maggie went back years, which led to a certain flexibility in their relationship. When Crampton asked for time? Tori gave it to her.

Because they all know how to shoot and hold a perimeter, but don’t know squat about any of the planetary hazards they might run into. Last mission, they weren’t much more than dead weight.

Crampton winced at her commander’s bluntness but couldn’t argue. When the landing party had been cut off from the Pike, the scientists had been outnumbered by Marines. This wasn’t an issue, and the deployment had done their best to help. Unfortunately, they were coming from a place of ignorance. Their help was limited to observations like, Hey, that looks weird!

Tori was determined to avoid a reoccurrence.

No offense, but some of them aren’t going to cut it, Crampton said.

If I remember correctly, that’s what NCOs are for. Keep at them until they do cut it. Those that don’t, we figure out how to use them in other roles.

Aye-aye. I’ll do my best.

Tori relented. I don’t expect miracles. They need some sort of background information, and not what they can pull from their ‘plant. It has to be knowledge, not access, even if it’s only the difference between a tree and a shrub.

That’s a thing?

Tori rolled her eyes, though she knew Crampton was joking.

Precisely. I’ve already talked with Kassidy, and she’s green-lit it. Pair ‘em up, two Marines per scientist. One to learn, one to provide cover.

And you want 1st Platoon doing the drop?

They’re up in the rotation. Tori knew it wasn’t a satisfactory answer, so she expanded on it. Look, if we give Buck’s platoon every opportunity, all we’re going to do is end up with one exhausted platoon and two pissed-off ones. We stick to the plan, and the plan says Lackey’s dropping next. Tori paused as a new idea hit her. Let’s take full advantage of this. We’ll record all the training, and let Buck and Pratt’s people watch the vids between now and the next landing. See what they can pick up.

Crampton was nodding in agreement. She’d served as long as Tori but had resisted the pressure to take a commission. They’d been grunts on the pointy end together as well, which meant they trusted each other explicitly.

I’ll make it happen.

"Good. Tell Dan I want to see him. Before the drop, not after. And he’s not in trouble," she added as an afterthought.

He won’t believe me.

Then sit on him until he does.

Crampton arched an eyebrow. She was at least ten centimeters taller than the young Lieutenant and massed twenty kilos more. Seriously?

Whatever it takes, Mags.

SENIOR LIEUTENANT NICOLE Crozier heard the hatch open but didn’t look up from her work.

Hey, Jessa. I know it’s dinnertime. I’ll be with you in a minute, she said.

I’ll be sure to let her know.

At the unexpected voice, Nicole jumped from her seat, sending notes flying. Colonel! Sorry, I was, ah, that is to say, I wasn’t expecting you.

Obviously. Chloe tempered her reply with a smile. What are you working on?

Still trying to duplicate the Pink Box.

Chloe heard the capitalization. Can’t come up with a better name?

Nicole winced, but wasn’t deterred. Once we figure out exactly what it does, maybe. We only have the Guardian’s description of what it does to go by until then. We haven’t even been able to power it up yet, because we don’t want to do anything irrevocable.

Speaking as the mission commander, I approve. Speaking as a curious human? I’m not sure I would have been able to resist. Chloe helped Nicole pick up the errant papers.

Well, Athena’s duplicated the power source, so I can get it up and running any time you want. Of course, that’s assuming I can get it back? Nicole had led the initial investigation into the mysterious object. It hadn’t been planned, nor did she have permission. She managed it through the simple expedient of not telling anyone she had it for a week. When she’d finally revealed its existence, she’d been forced to turn it over to Commander Yager and the rest of the Science Division.

Not likely, Chloe snorted. Making any progress in replicating the box itself?

Funny you should phrase it like that. Athena finished recreating it using our current tech but hasn’t tested it. Once we have a better theoretical understanding of how it works, we might build a copy that’s more faithful to the original. She made a face. I’ll be happy to get a result.

Chloe appropriated a chair and pulled it close. Tell me again what the device will do.

Nicole set aside the stack of documents for later sorting and turned. According to the Guardian, and supported by the documentation we recovered from Tantor, it allows a vessel to travel through time and space. Of course, we’ve barely scratched the surface of the treasure trove the Guardian provided. It’s going to take weeks, even with Athena helping.

Time travel. Chloe didn’t sound any more convinced than the first time they’d had this discussion.

In a nutshell.

Backwards? Forwards?

Both, but not the way you’re thinking. There are certain limits. We can’t move forward past the present, if that makes sense.

Maybe? Chloe’s confusion was clear, and Nicole sympathized. Her background didn’t cover temporal physics, either.

Um. The way Greyson puts it is we can only go so far into the future as we have already progressed.

Chloe’s face lit with understanding. Oh! So, if we used this today, now, then we can only return to now. We can’t sneak a peek ahead. Am I getting it right?

You are, Colonel. Then there’s the second restriction, about not interacting with the past.

Which I think is perfectly sensible.

Nicole allowed a smile to light briefly. "I do, too. It’s the way it was phrased. We are forbidden from interacting with the past; it’s not impossible."

Chloe hesitated before responding, thinking through the implications.

Then what’s stopping us?

Nicole nodded. Exactly. We don’t know what would happen if we tried to interact, so even though Athena’s got the reverse-engineered version? We haven’t dared try anything, not until we figure out the booby trap.

Because there’s got to be one. Gotcha. Anything else? Have you been taking any time off?

Nicole’s smile turned to a sheepish grin. Jessa’s been riding herd on us pretty well. She won’t let Greyson or I work over twelve hours a day or eight days in a row. Yesterday, we all took the day off. Even the rest of the team.

After the events and their recovery from Tantor, the scientists with Nicole on the planet had stuck with her. Even Ray Barata, who had wanted to remain behind on Tantor, changed his mind when Nicole explained their next steps. They were all working to solve the mysteries of the missing inhabitants and the technology they’d left behind. Time travel alone would revolutionize physics. The hinted-at instantaneous transit between points in space was simply a bonus.

Except me! Athena broke into the conversation.

Teena, what have I told you about eavesdropping? Nicole put as much firmness into her words as she could, but she had a soft spot for the AI.

I’m not! I’m assigned to monitor all compartments used by Science Division personnel. As of eleven days ago, you were transferred in. I’m just doing my job! Her ordinarily calm voice had taken on a distinctly defensive tone.

Teena...

And you were wrong! I’m part of the team, but I didn’t take the day off!

Nicole glanced at Chloe, who was suppressing a laugh, and sighed. In the weeks she’d known the AI, the electronic person’s personality had transformed. She was still eminently capable, but she’d loosened up to the point of adopting a nickname. The process had sped up since Nicole had joined the Science Division full-time, including the appropriation of Teena as Athena’s chosen nickname.

Fine. You’re right; you were working.

Thank you, Nicole. Colonel, she added, as if noticing the mission commander for the first time.

Athena, Chloe responded. I’m glad your human team took some time off. It’s good for you, and I’m not going to pressure you for results. It’s counterproductive. But if you have anything by the time we arrive at our destination...?

Chloe let the unspoken words hang between them.

Aye, Ma’am. I understand. And Nicole, alone among the four thousand officers, crew, and family members aboard, probably did. She’d been the Minister of War for Artemis before her extraction during the War. From there, she’d temporarily held a similar position on behalf of the Lunar rebels before succeeding to the Premiership of the new nation of Free Luna. She’d walked away from it all, leaving politics behind, in favor of pursuing a career in Starfleet.

Pressure? She understood, all right.

Do you want me to take days off too, Colonel? Athena asked.

If you feel it’s necessary, of course. But I don’t know what an Alpha-class AI needs for downtime. I’ll trust you to manage it.

I will, Athena assured her.

Chloe raised a finger. One question. Teena?

AIs couldn’t blush; they didn’t have a body for a kickoff. They could undoubtedly feel embarrassed, though, and this question appeared to trigger Athena. Why does anyone choose a nickname? retorted the AI. I was working with the Team extensively, more than most of the rest of the Division, and I needed a way for them to get my attention quickly.

So, this is a pet name? teased Chloe.

Nicole? Athena turned to her ally, a plaintive note in her voice, who was trying not to laugh.

Sort of. As she said, it’s a way to get her attention. She’s always listening, but this way she can give special notice when her nickname is used.

Chloe frowned. I’m no cyberneticist, but could this cause any issues? Multiple names?

Nicole answered before Athena could. No more than you or I. Don’t different people know you by different names, Chloe? Nicole, exercising the confidence which came with her former positions, used her proper name. It caught Chloe’s ear precisely as Nicole intended.

Exactly, Minister Crozier. She returned the volley, chuckling, and stood. Keep me up to date on your progress. Are you going planetside? I’ve heard we found a nice one.

Nicole automatically shook her head, then checked her ‘plant and stopped. Whoa. Is this right?

That’s what I’ve been told.

Nicole scrutinized the data closer. The second planet was a type M, terrestrial, near enough to the star to have an average surface temperature of 19.4°. It was slightly smaller than Earth and had a trio of moons, none over five hundred kilometers in diameter. The Rasmussen had detected an Oxygen-Nitrogen atmosphere, as well as chlorophyll, animal, and insect analogues.

What made it more attractive to the crew of the Pike, almost irresistible, was it was green and blue and welcoming.

I might change my mind, Nicole said now, to Chloe’s enthusiastic nod.

After forty days without seeing an open sky, I’m ready to drop myself. Assuming our Marines don’t blow the hell out of it. And I know my kids would love to play on the beaches.

Are you sure a day will be enough? This was a question from the former Minister, not a junior officer, and Chloe took it that way. But before she started her answer, the hatch opened again.

Sweetie, aren’t you, oh! Senior Lieutenant Jessa Ellis, a tall woman with straight black hair and gently Asiatic features, stopped short and saluted. Colonel.

Chloe returned the salute before answering. Relax, Lieutenant. This was an informal visit. Nicole, you think more shore leave would be a good idea?

"Definitely. As you said, it’s been forty days since most people aboard saw the sky. Longer, if they were on Njord for any length of time. It might be a good time for a few days R&R if it checks out safe."

Chloe nodded, then turned to Jessa. Lieutenant Ellis? Opinion?

I wouldn’t mind some time off. We’re talking about Secundus? The new planet?

Secundus? Teena? said Nicole, whipping her head between Jessa and Chloe.

Yes. This is the name suggested by Ensign Thomas Fullgrabe, the discoverer of the system. I have his explanation on record if you’d like it?

Chloe waved off the diversion. The conversation with Caedyn was still fresh in her mind, and she ran through the implications of a shore leave planet. Good enough for now. Yes. Thank you, Lieutenant. I’ll consider it if we can work out the details. I’m dead certain most of our people will want a few hours, if not more, downplanet.

Jessa nodded mutely, but Athena didn’t hesitate.

Colonel, I have made a calculation based on my knowledge of human behavior, recreational requirements, and the transport abilities of Captain Marsh’s wing. Assuming we can use the portals for personnel retrieval, we will require at least five days to ensure all who desire time off can get it.

Chloe ignored the calculation. She didn’t doubt Athena’s accuracy, but it was one more detail she didn’t need. I think I’ve taken up enough time. Ladies, good evening. If I approve extended shore leave, I’ll leave it to you to handle your Team. She left the compartment, and Jessa immediately crossed the space to Nicole, face full of concern.

What did you do this time?

Nothing, I swear! I thought it was you coming to get me for dinner, but it was Chloe, not you, and we started talking about the Box.

Jessa leaned against the still-seated Nicole from behind and wrapped her arms around the younger woman. Is that all?

Yes! Her emphatic denial was tempered by her hum of pleasure. I think she simply wanted to check-in, personally. Not just reading our reports.

Well, you have the experience in upper management, joked Jessa. But if I don’t get you back to my quarters by eighteen, Greyson is likely to throw our dinner out of an airlock, followed by us when we finally arrive.

Nicole stood to face Jessa, angling her head upward. She was the middle of their triad in height and always seemed to look in one direction or the other.

They’re not usually so particular. Tell.

Jessa shrugged. They’re making something special. No, they didn’t tell me what, only that it was critical we were home on time.

With reluctance, Nicole freed herself from Jessa’s arms.

Then what are we waiting for?

4: Secundus

Stardate 12409.02

W e’re sure this isn’t one of the seeded worlds? asked Commander Yager. She had resisted the temptation to go planetside for two days before her scientific curiosity finally overwhelmed her sense of duty as First Officer. The reports from other members of the crew about the beauties of the planet didn’t weigh into her decision. Much. Porter had been understanding and had granted her request to join the away teams planetside almost before she’d asked.

None of the DNA-analogues match anything Earthly, confirmed Ensign Nick Carver. He was doing his best not to be star-struck; Yager was a veteran of the first planetary landings, way back in ’18. He was a recent graduate of the Academy and had been surprised to be selected for the Pike.

Good. I want samples. Use standard random protocols. Don’t over-sample! I’m not going to have us tilt some godforsaken plant into extinction because we took the last survivor.

Carver nodded. Aye, Ma’am. I’ll scan every sample for duplicates before pulling anything.

Yager smiled. This was what she lived for. Command? For the birds, as far as she was concerned.

YOU SURE IT’S SAFE?

Jessa smiled at Nicole’s obvious reluctance. The kids from Engineering set up a pressor field a hundred meters offshore. Nothing’s getting through, at least nothing larger than water molecules.

Greyson surfaced and yelled, Come on, Nikki! The water’s beautiful!

Nicole still cast her eyes warily upon the water.

Objectively, it was beautiful. Crystalline shallows over white sands glowed turquoise in the sunlight, deepening to navy as the depth increased. Farther out, marine animals swam and undulated through the water, only to be halted at an unseen barrier.

Big bad Minister of War afraid of a jellyfish? Jessa teased.

You grew up on Earth, Nicole answered. I grew up on Luna. Big difference. There, water is something you drink and clean with, not swim in. Jumping into something like this? She waved at the gently lapping waves. Insanity.

Jessa sobered. True. Why don’t we start small? No jumping, just a sort of outdoor bathing. At Nicole’s dubious expression, she clarified. At least put your toes in the water. She showed Nicole, digging them into the wet sand a few centimeters under the surface.

Nicole took a few hesitant steps to the surf line. She stopped, allowing the waves to lap about her ankles.

This isn’t bad, she admitted.

Jessa was grinning. Hate to say I told you so, but...

Yeah, yeah, you were right. Then, surprising them all, Nicole dove forward into the low waves with a splash. Greyson broke into applause, and Jessa’s grin grew wider. Nicole stood and shook the water from her skin. Sputtering, she said, You’re right. It’s amazing!

Just wait until I teach you how to swim! Greyson exclaimed, splashing towards her.

Swim?

FIRST SQUAD! SERGEANT Tim Echols’ voice carried poorly through the brush. The rules of this exercise called for no functional electronics, which well and truly sucked. Echols hadn’t realized how much of their gear, including their battle armor, depended on power to operate until, suddenly, it went away.

Which was the point.

One by one, his twelve Marines checked in. They were dug in, as best they could, with orders to hold their position against Second and Third squads. Fourth and Fifth were getting a breather, but Echols had heard that, if they did well enough, Sixth might get called to reinforce First.

All they had to do was deal with the heat and the handicap of no sensors, implants, pulse rifles, or powered armor, and they were golden.

Piece of cake.

Sarge, why are we doing this the way they fought in the 20th century? asked Private Chris Green. Green was supposed to be his communications geek, but now he’d been reduced to a runner. On the plus side, it meant he didn’t have to dig himself a foxhole. On the minus side, he couldn’t get out of the heat in a nice, cool, shady foxhole.

Because Captain Monaco has a low sense of humor, Corporal Mark Robinson replied. And Top’s worse.

Echols chuckled. No argument there, Mark.

Seriously, though. Why? Green persisted.

"Because we’re going to the back of beyond and then some. If we ever lose support from the Pike, you’ll need to defend the eggheads with two sticks and some vine. Boy Scout shit. This drew a grunt of laughter from Robinson. Besides, it beats the hell out of trying to learn how to be junior scientists."

You’ve got a point, Sarge, Green said. First Platoon spent two full days on Captain Monaco’s scientific familiarization scheme. They were more than ready to blow a few things up. And that was Terran days, the standard twenty-four hours, not the sixteen-hour days Secundus enjoyed. Did I hear right? Tomorrow’s an off day?

Echols glowered at Green, to no avail. Sometimes the young Marine just didn’t know when to shut up.

Who’s been talking?

Just scuttlebutt, Sarge. Green retreated to a previously prepared position. Warp technology might have allowed humans to travel faster than light, but the rumor mill still had it beat.