Temple of S.A.R.A.H. 2 Subroutines

  Subroutines Episode II

  Temple of S.A.R.A.H.

  Book 2

  Ben Winston

  Mediterranean Ocean

  Middle East, Earth.

  Sol System.

  We flew to Tel Aviv, and from there we took a modified cargo ship named Summertide toward the island nation of Cyprus. About eighty miles out, the ship lowered us over the side in a specially modified container. We had a rather large, but friendly, crewman' from the ship with us. Once in the water, he checked a control panel and reported everything was green. The ship let us go, and down we went.

  May I ask how far down we're going, Corporal? Jamie asked.

  He nodded. About a half mile; deep enough that most of our activities can't be detected from the surface.

  Julie handed him a cup of coffee. Why here? This is a perpetual war zone. Aren't there safer spots to have a base?

  Yeah, there are. But the fact that it's a war zone is exactly why we're here. It's easier to hide our operations in a conflict area. He smiled, shrugging to indicate the decision hadn't been his anyway.

  Do you usually have more people going to the base? I asked.

  No, not really. If we have more than one family at once, it's really unusual. They're kinda picky about who they ask to join, the Corporal answered. There is a group from Apollo that will be going back up to the Summertide this trip.

  Have you been aboard the whole time? I didn't see you when we first came aboard? Chris asked.

  He chuckled. No, we came aboard this morning to guide the pods down to the base. Is this the first time you've been overseas?

  My late husband brought me to Paris for our honeymoon. I never would have imagined ever going all the way to the moon! Julie replied.

  We all chuckled. Jamie spoke next. My ex-husband took me to Daytona for the Daytona 500. That's the only reason we were there, and we came home right after the race. That should have been my first warning right there!

  The families we get are usually a couple of elder scientists, or a married couple and their kids, if they have any. I think this might be the first time we've had extended family included in the deal. Corporal Hayes said. The rest of you must have some pretty impressive skills to be included.

  Not really, Christy and Eric are the superstars, we're just along for the ride I guess, Julie replied.

  A soft chiming started and the Corporal stood to return to the control panel. We're arriving. It was nice talking to you folks. I hope you enjoy your stay on Apollo.

  You're very welcome, Corporal Hays. Give us a ring when you get back to Apollo. We can have you and your lady over for dinner, Jamie replied.

  Thank you, Mrs. Cowan. I'll check with Terri and let you know.

  Please, call me Jamie. This is Julie, Ellie, Chris and Eric, Jamie replied, smiling at the young man.

  Thank you, Miss. My name is Mike. However, while I'm on duty, I'm required to address you all formally. Even when my wife, Mrs. Terri Hays, finishes her doctorate, I'll have to address her as Doctor' while I'm on duty.

  I imagine that's one of the more idiotic regulations, I said.

  Not really, Dr. Cowan. You see, Apollo is a mixed race base. For two of the other races, informal address to a non-peer, even among members of the same species, is considered a major insult. So they worked it out that while at work or on duty, its formal address; off duty we can relax, Mike said.

  So, if I understand that correctly, then we can call you Mike, but you have to call us by our titles since you're still on duty'? I asked.

  That's correct, Dr. Cowan.

  That's going to take some getting used to, Chris said as the exit door slid open.

  Mike stood next to the door at attention. Welcome to Med Majestic, Doctors Cowan and family. A guide will show you to a lounge while they finish getting the shuttle loaded for tonight's flight to Apollo. We hope you enjoy your stay with us. He lowered his voice so only we could hear him. I'll see you in a week, when I finish this rotation.

  As we filed past him we all thanked him and shook his hand.

  Fleet Navigational and Maintenance Stop

  Near the Giant Dust disk of Tau Ceti

  12 light years from Earth.

  I don't know what she's doing, Sir, but Sphinx is pulling those fighters right back towards us. What's odd is she's spread her whole wing out and is drawing ALL the fighters back toward us, Ensign Yolina said from tactical. Like normal, I can't understand her strategy.

  You know how it works, Ensign; it'll make perfect sense after she pulls off whatever it is she's up to. Our fighters will be there in a few minutes to help her keep them off us. Did we get a final count on those fighters? Vance asked.

  A hundred and nine wings, Sir. They could really hurt us all by themselves, which is why what Sphinx is doing is insane, Yolina said. She should be trying to draw them off to one side, so our fighters can engage well outside the fleet firing solutions.

  Such a small craft has no armor in a fight where bullets destroy planets, this is a different level of sanity, Ensign. It is those that do not see this that are insane, in truth. A cold, hard lesson will be taught this day; let us hope we survive the education, Tactical Fleet Strategist CleinSal said.

  She's up to something, that's for sure. She knows our fighters don't stand a chance. Try to be ready to give her support if she needs it, Ensign, but otherwise let her do her thing. Now, let's figure out our strategy, shall we? Commodore Vance replied.

  Yes Sir, Yolina replied and began plotting the two fleets in the big holotank.

  Uh...Sir, Sphinx flight has launched missiles. ComTrac has sixteen, full-yield TAMSAM missiles heading... fighter relative one-eight-zero, true.

  They what!? What's the target? Vance asked, looking up at the Tracking Officer.

  I can't tell, Sir. They're out of range of the capitol ships. The fighters are on full burn for the fleet, and the missiles are heading toward the enemy fighters, Lieutenant Cralik said, confused.

  Oh SHIT! Get the shields up! Tell our fighters to stop where they are and switch to double strength on forward... Vance yelled when someone interrupted him. Multiple Anti-matter events! Force six plasma wave approaching!

  Get those shields up! Vance yelled.

  A hard lesson, indeed, TFS CleinSal said grimly.

  Sir! Sphinx flight is...

  I know, Yolina! They probably just saved all our asses. Now, sound collision and brace for impact!

  The huge warship rocked and shook with the passing of the huge plasma wave. The icons for Sphinx flight were removed from the holographic battle tank. In the silence that followed, Vance began to give orders again. Get our fighters moving again, and get me an up-to-date count on the remaining enemy fighters. Navigation; show me our approach track.

  Still fifteen minutes from extreme firing range, an excited middle-aged man came running onto the bridge. Commodore! May I have your permission to test a weapon on the enemy?

  You're not going to rip a hole in the fabric of the universe again are you, Dr. Sparks? Vance asked.

  TFS CleinSal almost smiled at the banter between the Commodore and the scientist. Such a flagrant disregard of protocol would never have been allowed aboard a Veranorian ship. However, humor and this type of... comradeship, was new to the Veranorians. Such bantering served to relieve much of the tension and stress, putting the crew at ease and improving performance. He'd decided to make a full report on this curious aspect of the human social structure, and he watched the interplay between his commander and the scientist with great interest. Also, it was rather... amusing.

  Sir, I did apologize for that! It was just a simple misunderstandin
g! the man said seriously. Besides, this is only a slightly modified Vibrand AM missile; and I didn't modify the payload this time, I swear! Sparks almost pleaded. Vance called him a mad scientist, and Sparks called him a warmonger. They were good friends.

  Vance nodded to the battle board. You got plenty of targets, Ced. If you can fuck one of them up before we get there, I'm all for it. But once we get in range, your test is over.

  I've already had the test missile loaded into a launcher, Sir. This won't take but a few moments! Sparks said as he turned to face the board. Weapons. Spin up port tube 34L, please.

  Target, Dr. Sparks? the weapons officer asked.

  The Aracs main weapons and shielding were on the sides of their bigger ships. So when they prepare to fight, they stack' their ships in a wall to bring the largest possible amount of weapons to bear on a target. When a ship takes too much damage, they roll the ship and present the undamaged side to the battle.

  That doctrine was a bitch to fight against, but it was still a winnable scenario since federation weapons were longer ranged and more accurate. However, when the Aracs built those huge battleships, most of that advantage was destroyed simply by the massive volume of fire from the giant ships. Besides, lately the damn bugs were becoming really good shots.

  CS zero-one center, Mr. Eselk, Vance said, indicating the Battleship in the center of the formation. If Dr. Sparks is testing a weapon, we should be sure there is something left to measure the damage on.

  Computer accepts the target, but is holding because of occlusion and distance, Mr. Eselk reported.

  Sparks grinned. Please override them, Mr. Eselk. Navigation, please give me an exact distance to target.

  Range to target, displayed on the board, Sir,

  Thank you. Mr. Eselk is the weapon ready?

  Yes, Doctor.

  Excellent, please set the warhead for maximum yield, and to go active at launch. When Eselk nodded to Dr. Sparks, the young man watched the big screen intently and said, Fire when ready, Mr. Eselk.

  Missile away. Target hand-off is complete and the bird is locked, Mr. Eselk reported.

  Sparks tapped a red flashing icon on his portable screen and the missile vanished, triggering an alarm on the weapons board. Watch the battleship! Sparks said before anyone else could say anything. Three... two... one... and.

  The battle board changed to show an incredible amount of damage being done to the enemy, and soon it registered the rapidly expanding debris field of a destroyed ship.

  Sir, missile has detonated. ComTrac reported the anti-matter event occurring internally on the selected target. I don't know how, but he made it do an in-system jump of four point one-four light seconds, Mr. Eselk reported.

  Huh, Sparks grunted as he was reading his screen, then entered more data, then read more. He glanced up, Uh, thanks everyone. He nodded to Vance as he started for the door. Commodore.

  Hold it, Ced! Vance ordered.

  Hmm? What? Oh! Yes, Commodore? the distracted scientist asked.

  You don't just stroll in here, blow up an enemy battleship, and then leave us lying in the wet spot! Please tell me you have at least two more of those? Vance asked.

  Why not? My ex-wife would do it all the time! Sparks replied.

  Ced, you've never been married. Now about those missiles... Vance asked.

  I do have five more unarmed Vibrands in the lab, but I doubt they'll work now, at least not without a bit more programming, he replied.

  Why not? Eselk asked.

  They've got their shields up now. I'm pretty sure I can get past that too, but it's going to take some more work. Sorry folks, I didn't mean to get your hopes up. I hope to have the kinks worked out within the week, Sparks explained.

  Later, Commodore Vance tiredly looked at his remaining Captains and tried not to think of the massive loss of life his missing friends stood for. Even the remaining two, normally proud, Simonian Commanders looked tired after all the death and destruction. The fleet had lost three capitol class ships and most of the smaller escorts. Of the three quarters of a million souls in the fleet, half now slept with their ancestors. The few wounded they had were all critical. Still more names were going to be added to the list before they could reach base.

  The intercom buzzing interrupted his tired contemplation. He tapped the icon, Yes?

  My apologies, Commodore, but SAR reports finding Lt. Commander Shakier's life pod. There are faint life-signs but they say there isn't much left of her. Sir, they want to know if they should just send it to the morgue.

  It took Vance a minute to remember who Shakier had been, when it came to him, he replied. Negative! They are to bring that pod back to medical right now, highest priority! She's the reason this fleet's still alive! I damn well want her and any member of her flight alive when I pin the medals on their chests! Do you understand me, Ensign?

  Yes Sir, I believe that's why the CAG was asking. I'll get them moving, Sir.

  Thank you, Ensign. Vance out. He tapped the icon again, which changed to red then slid off the screen.

  How are repairs going? Captain Velnor? Vance asked.

  One engine will have to be replaced, but the plasma conduits are repaired. Chief Hulon Xi got the main reactor repaired and powered up. Our meta-field generator is also back online, so we can get to supra-light. We won't have full sub-light speed until that engine gets replaced. We should be able to make it to our destination without blowing up, the man replied.

  The rest of the reports where much the same; everyone was capable of getting back underway. The freighters full of construction materials and engineers they'd been escorting had continued on when trouble had been detected. They should still be a week out.

  Okay, let's give Search and Rescue the rest of the day, then we need to continue on. I've already made a full report to Command, and they'll be sending along a few more ships to bolster our defense until the new shipyards can start producing ships.

  I think we all need to go back to our ships and get some rest. This battle was bad, but it could have been worse. So, unless anyone can think of anything else, you're all dismissed.

  Alliance Base; Med Majestic

  Mediterranean Ocean

  Earth, Sol System

  The lounge' that we were led to was more like a large, comfortable living room. There was a large-screen television set above a very real looking fireplace. On the other side of the wall with the fireplace was a dining room. Through a set of swinging doors was a kitchen complete with a cook.

  As we all took seats in the living room, setting our carry-on bags on the floor, the chef greeted us.

  Welcome, ladies and gentleman. I am Chef Daniel Cromwell. May I direct your attention to the timer on the wall, he indicated a device that read '00:03:34:42'. That is the amount of time before launch. So, since you have three and a half hours before your flight, and it's getting to be dinner time, I would like to offer to make dinner for you this evening.

  Thank you, Chef Cromwell. Before we accept, may I ask how rough the flight might be? I asked.

  His smile grew. You have no idea how many people forget to consider that. The shuttle is equipped with artificial gravity generators, so beyond a very brief moment of vertigo, you shouldn't feel anything until you disembark at Apollo and change AG fields again. Anytime you change AG fields, it gives you a shot of dizziness. Most of us don't even feel it anymore.

  What did you have in mind for Dinner, Chef Cromwell? Julie asked.

  I was thinking perhaps a Surf and Turf'. In anticipation of your arrival, I have steak and Maine lobsters that should be ready in about forty-five minutes. Or you could have some just very nice fillet mignon that I can prepare to order, Cromwell replied.

  That sounds wonderful! I just hope I'll be able to finish mine! Jamie said, grinning at her sister.

  I've never had Surf and Turf', but it sounds delicious! Ellie said smiling.

  The family took seats to relax, talk, and maybe watch
some television. Ellie touched her phone's earpiece. Sarah? How's the weather up there? she asked giggling.

  Inside or outside of the base, Ellie? Sarah replied, happily. Would you ask if the rest of the family would mind if I included them in this call?

  Once everyone agreed, and greetings had been exchanged, Sarah mentioned some news that she thought the family might be interested in.

  I made a note to myself to mention something I got from the news network up here. It seems there had been a large Alliance battle fleet coming here to provide system protection while the Alliance expands the base.

  They were to build a forward' assault base as a staging area into Arac territory. Don't let the term forward' bother you; we actually aren't much closer to Arac space than anyone else. However, we do have a unique position. If something as ambiguous as a front' could be defined in a space war, we would be on the extreme left flank. The purpose of the base is to provide a staging and repair facility for Alliance forces to begin covert intelligence gathering and surgical strikes well behind Arac lines'.

  That huge fleet was attacked almost two weeks ago. Since it was the last course correction stop, the non-combat and engineering ships, with three small destroyers as protection, made the jump here while the rest of the fleet turned and attacked.

  The non-combat ships arrived safely a few hours ago. In two more days, the rest of the fleet will also arrive. They're going to need a lot of repair. The enemy fleet massed twenty-four hundred percent more than Alliance forces, which means that no Alliance ships should have survived. They took horrific losses, but just under three-hundred thousand of the original three quarters of a million beings, as well as most of the capitol class ships, survived. Sarah finished.

  What about the enemy? Chris asked.

  The fleet reported them completely destroyed. Commodore Vance has nominated one of his pilots for the Freedom Brotherhood. It's the highest honor in the Alliance. He included a ship's sensor log of her wing executing highly irregular tactics, tactics they had to know they couldn't survive, in an effort to destroy as many enemy fighters as they could.