Black Fleet Trilogy 1: Warship (11 page)

Chapter 9

"Drone data confirms that there aren't any biological agents in the air," Ensign Davis said. "The ... slicks ... that are in place where the cities used to be are not out-gassing anything exotic either, just carbon dioxide and methane."

"But thermographic scans and ground-penetrating radar didn't provide any additional data to what we'd already been able to glean from orbit," Jackson stated. "The drones are good, but they're moving too fast to really get any significant detail."

"I'm sorry, Captain," Davis said. "We're only carrying fixed-wing drones. No landers or anything that can hover."

Jackson waved her off. "It's of no importance, Ensign," he said. "I've been suspecting what our next course of action was going to be since we first made orbit. Coms! Have Major Ortiz report to the bridge."

"Aye, sir."

Ten minutes later CENTCOM Marine Major Jeza Ortiz walked onto the bridge, his head up and shoulders back in that strut Marines seemed to adopt around spacers. He was wearing camouflage fatigues that were earth-toned and obviously tailored to highlight his impressive physique honed from hours and hours of time in the gym. Jackson couldn't decide if the major actually thought the browns and greens would help him hide on a ship mostly made of steel or if it was just one more way he and his charges could separate themselves from Fleet personnel.

"Captain!" he said, standing at attention and snapping a crisp salute.

"At ease, Major," Jackson said, returning the salute. "Have you been briefed about the situation on the surface of Xi'an?"

"Yes, sir," Ortiz said with a nod, standing at parade rest. "Commander Wright included me on her initial command personnel brief."

"That brief was necessarily light on details, but all the major points were highlighted," Jackson said. "I asked you to come up here because we've exhausted the amount of data we can collect from orbit."

"We're going to the surface, sir?" Ortiz said with the hint of a smile playing across his lips.

"Affirmative, Major," Jackson said. "I want a ten-man team ready to go in one hour. You'll be accompanied by at least five others: myself and some specialists from Medical and Engineering."

"Aye aye, sir," Ortiz said. "We'll meet you in the shuttle launch bay."

"Very well," Jackson said with a nod. "Dismissed, Major."

"May I have a word with you in private, Captain?" Celesta said from behind his left shoulder so quietly he almost couldn't hear her.

"I was about to refill my coffee," he said, gesturing towards the bridge exit. "You know, we should really think about getting a dispenser installed on the bridge," he said as he popped the lid off his mug.

"I'll make a note of that, sir," Celesta said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. "However, I think right now I'd like to talk about your plan to accompany a group of Marines down to the surface of Xi'an."

"What about it, Commander?"

"Sir, are you really going to make me cite the regulation that strictly forbids your leaving the ship during a crisis?" she asked with mild exasperation.

"No, I already know the reg," he said. "I also know it's not applicable in this case. You're referring to a CENTCOM standing order that limits a captain's movements in a time of war or while actively engaged with the enemy. Neither of those is true in this case. This is more of a battle damage assessment."

"Sir—"

"The matter is not up for debate, Commander," Jackson said. "This is a situation without precedence and I won't take the risk of sending someone else down."

"Yes, sir," she said in a tone that made it obvious she didn't agree and would happily continue the argument if he'd let her.

****

"Captain on deck!"

"As you were!" Jackson shouted across the cavernous staging area of the shuttle launch bay. He had gone down to the Marine detachment's shop area and got himself kitted out in something a little more substantial than his black Fleet utilities. He'd even gone so far as to pull a sidearm from the armory.

The Marines were all there, as were the two specialists from Engineering that Singh had sent. They were still waiting on the two medical technicians. While the specialists looked mildly terrified, the Marines were swaggering around the bay hurling insults at each other and generally looked to be overly excited for what was to be a sightseeing mission.

"Captain," Commander Javier Juarez said as he approached. "The shuttle is fueled and prepped, sir. I've put my best flight crew in it."

"Thank you, Commander," Jackson said. "We'll depart as soon as our other two passengers arrive."

"Of course, sir," Juarez said. "We're ready when you are."

They milled around for another thirty minutes before two specialists with badges identifying them as medical personnel walked into the bay, seemingly against their will.

"Perhaps my orders were unclear when I asked for two med specialists to be here by a certain time?" Jackson asked, mildly annoyed at the delay. If he were honest his nerves were a bit on edge about going down to the surface.

"N-n-no, sir," the senior ranking tech stammered. Jackson turned his back on them and addressed the rest of the team.

"This is it, everyone," he said. "Load up."

The shuttle launching bay was actually outside of the staging area. Instead of moving entire ships through airlocks to load and unload, the
Blue Jacket's
complement of landers, tenders, and ship-to-ship transports were hard-docked to their own individual airlocks and the launch bay was kept at a constant vacuum. All flight ops had to do was open the destroyer's outer hatch and disengage the docking clamps and the shuttle could navigate away from the ship.

As the team moved towards the open airlock hatch the shuttle's crew chief ushered them in and directed them to the crash seats lining either side of the interior. The Marines filed in quickly, found their seats, and were strapped in while the specialists were still floundering about and trying to figure out how the harnesses worked. As they were getting comfortable the pilot walked back and directed the crew chief to secure the main hatch.

"This will be a short flight," the pilot said. "Even so, those of you not accustomed to working in freefall may experience some discomfort as we deorbit and head for the surface. I would take it as a kindness if you would be aware enough to utilize the bags directly under your seat if you find your stomach simply refuses to hang on to lunch. Captain, it's an honor to have you aboard, sir. We'll give you a nice, smooth ride down."

"Looking forward to it, Lieutenant," Jackson said. "Commander Juarez said you're his best." Once the pilot had walked back to the flight deck he addressed his team, "Just a heads up ... anyone who gets sick and makes a mess in the interior of this shuttle will be cleaning it when we return while the crew chief supervises. If you're going to get sick, grab the damn bag. Clear?”

"Clear, sir!" the Marines shouted in unison while the specialists only looked worriedly at each other. The crew chief, however, just smiled at them, nodding his thanks to the captain as he strapped into his own seat near the front of the compartment.

"Stand by," the pilot's voice came over the intercom. "We're undocking from the
Blue Jacket
now."

There was a sharp
clang
with an accompanying bump and then they could hear the hiss of the attitude jets firing, pushing them out of the docking bay and into open space. The shuttle had no windows in the passenger compartment so there was no way to tell for sure when they were clear of the ship other than the sudden loss of artificial gravity.

Jackson felt his stomach do a backflip and his mouth began watering. Out of pride, he began taking slow, steady breaths, forcing his body to calm down from the sudden shock to his vestibular system. He looked around and saw that while the specialists looked a little worse for wear, the Marines actually appeared to be enjoying themselves.

He felt a sharp jolt as the shuttle engines started up and sensed the lateral acceleration as they began their deorbit burn. The
Blue Jacket
had been flying at a much higher velocity than was needed for their orbital altitude so the small shuttle had to run up its exoatmospheric engines hard to slow the craft down enough to begin their descent. The burn seemed to go on forever before the acceleration relented and Jackson could just begin to feel the mild buffeting from the upper atmosphere.

Soon, the shuttle was rocking and bouncing through the increasingly dense air, the friction causing enough heat to tax the climate control system for the passenger compartment. It was another five minutes or so before the ride began to smooth out and they could hear the turbine engines used for atmospheric flight spooling up. There were four engines mounted in nacelles at the ends of the four offset, stubby wings: two front, two aft. The engine nacelles could be pitched down for vertical landing and takeoff, while the thrust nozzles could be articulated a full thirty-three degrees to provide additional control.

Jackson wasn't sure where they'd made entry over the planet so he couldn't be positive how long the flight would be. He waved to get the crew chief's attention and motioned to him for a headset. The crew chief nodded and tossed him a spare set from under his seat. Jackson slipped them over his head and adjusted the microphone before plugging the cord into the receptacle at the base of his own seat.

"This is Captain Wolfe," he said over the intraship channel. "What is our approximate flight time?"

"We've brought you in right over the target, Captain," the pilot's voice came back. "We're descending in a slow, wide arc over the ... affected ... area. We'll be landing one kilometer east of the outer edge of the phenomena on the ground. We'll make landfall in another twenty minutes."

"Copy," Jackson said. He removed the headset and tossed it back to the crew chief. "Twenty minutes," he told the ground team.

The only further excitement during the flight was the flaring of the shuttle as the engines angled down and the air compressing underneath the craft caused a few seconds of bone-jarring vibrations. When the wheels touched the ground the pilot chopped the throttles and angled the engines up so the ground team could exit without being pummeled (or scorched) by the jet exhaust.

The crew chief went back and popped the releases for the rear hatch and hit the control to open the shuttle up. The hatch was actually the entire rear bulkhead that swung down to form a ramp for them to disembark. After a thumbs up from the crew chief they all piled out, the Marines forming up a defensive perimeter while the specialists lugged their equipment behind them.

"Sergeant!" Jackson called to the Marine in charge of the squad. "We need to go west one klick. It's more important we arrive there safely than quickly."

"Understood, sir," the sergeant said. "We'll divide up and put you and the techs between us. If you need to stop, just call for a halt and we'll watch the perimeter."

Jackson waved for him to proceed and then turned to the seemingly bewildered spacers milling around near the ramp. "We're going to be following the first group of Marines. It's a kilometer walk to where the affected area starts; that's where you'll begin running your tests. Any questions?"

"No, sir," a few of them managed to mumble.

"Okay then, let's look alive," Jackson said. "We're not sure what to expect, so stay sharp and call out anything that looks unusual or dangerous."

They were almost two hundred meters away when their objective came into view. The glistening edge of the phenomenon was clearly seen along with the fact that it was moving. Jackson looked on in morbid fascination as the mass undulated and roiled forward like a lava flow.

"It goes without saying, but do not touch the mass ahead of us with anything but your instruments," Jackson said. "Maintain strict quarantine protocols on every sample taken."

"What would you like us to do, sir?" the Marine sergeant asked.

"Stay out of their way," Jackson said, slowing his pace as they approached. "Our previous analysis shows no airborne pathogens, but let's not take the chance of your men accidentally coming into physical contact."

The Marines made no argument about staying away from the viscous substance and formed a loose perimeter twenty meters away.

Jackson looked to his left and right, stunned by the size of the slick. Now that they were close, he was almost gagging on the smell. It was an overpowering mix of sickly sweet and the sharp tang of decay. The technicians were breaking out their equipment and donning protective equipment as they would have to approach quite close to the slick.

"This had to be some sort of biological weapon," Jackson mused to himself.

"Possibly, sir," the Marine sergeant said from his left. "But how do you account for the missing buildings and infrastructure? This was a fairly well-developed city."

"You can see some pieces of building material embedded in the slime," Jackson said, pointing to what looked like a chunk of tarmac. "Maybe they leveled the city and then turned this loose on the survivors."

"That's a hell of an attack," the sergeant said. "It's not normally how you would fight a war ... this is an annihilation. This was personal."