Remember the Yorktown (Gravity Book 1) Read online

  Setting down her bag, Adrianna saluted.

  The admiral did not return the courtesy, which caught Adrianna as odd.

  “Commander,” the admiral stated in a matter-of-fact manner. “I see that you have your sea-legs.”

  “Never lost them, sir,” she replied bluntly while wondering why he would even ask that.

  “Good, you’ll need them here. This beast still has a few glitches that haven’t been worked out.” Adrianna said nothing at first, so the admiral continued: “every so often the damn thing loses the gravity drives. Sectors will go in and out of breach securing, engines cut in and out… Fucking thing shouldn’t even be commissioned yet, but there’s a push to have our presence felt beyond Jupiter again.”

  “They’ve already briefed me on the plans.” There was an odd dishonesty about his speech though she couldn’t place it.

  “Good. Well, in the 15 days it’ll take us to get out there, let’s hope that we can get at least the goddamn gravity to work correctly and this might end up being something of a successful venture. I don’t need to go floating again mid-shit.”

  Adrianna tried her best not to look surprised by the gruffness before saluting again and saying: “Permission to familiarize myself with the ship before we embark?”

  “Granted,” the Admiral said dismissively.

  Shortly after a few more formalities Adrianna was finally able to take to her quarters. Dwarfed only by the Admiral’s quarters, she had the only larger single quarters on the ship. The remainder of the crew, officers included, shared smaller cramped rooms located in many cases where they worked. She had a larger bed as well as a small desk with a holographic terminal. Between the two, a small stand stood meant for small decorations that most spacefarers knew to leave empty as not to let the objects succumb to the damage from the occasional loss of gravity.

  Removing her shoes, she made herself only as comfortable as being relieved of the tight footwear. Walking barefoot was one of the few luxuries that she would afford herself. Stretching her toes out she then turned her attention to her bag which had simply been tossed in the corner of the room.

  Digging through her duffle, Adrianna pulled out a notebook she had with her since before enlisting. Inside were bits of memories, poems, and notes among other things that helped to keep her grounded. As she lifted it from the bag, she noticed a small piece of paper fall from it to the ground. She hadn’t thought that she had any loose papers in there. Setting the notebook down she then knelt down and grasped the little paper.

  As she unfolded it, she found herself slipping down to the floor leaning against the bed. She couldn’t believe that she still had a picture of him. As she gazed at the tattered image, she felt her pulse grow faster. All of the memories of him flooded her. It was the first time she saw him in any form outside of her memories since he was lost. It was part of the reason she fled: remaining there scared her. Although she was sure he was nowhere near, she felt this unexplainable attraction towards him still.

  But he was dead. He had to be. The Alliance had seen to it.

  Shaking it off, she contemplated tearing the picture up and tossing it into the waste bin. Something held her from doing so, and instead she chose to place the picture securely into a small pocket on the breast of her shirt. I’ll keep it there for good luck, she thought.

  As she placed a few more of her belongings away, Adrianna glanced up and noticed that she only had a few minutes before she had to return to the bridge for the ship’s departure. Not bothering with anything else, she straightened herself up and went to leave her quarters.

  Stepping out into the halls Adrianna saw that the ship was alight with activity. Shipmen and crew passed by her in a flurry of motion that allowed for the ignoring the courtesy of stopping and saluting as she passed.

  “Commander,” the Admiral said as she entered the bridge. “You have impeccable timing. We are about to initiate the docking release sequence.”

  Giving no hesitation, Adrianna knew that this was her moment to take over. “Status on fuel detachment?”

  A voice from her left: “Fuel detachment completed.”

  “Airlocks?”

  “Airlocks secure. All systems have reached autonomy.”

  “Release docking clamps and bring lateral thrusters to 15%.”

  “Aye aye, commander,” the ship’s pilot responded.

  A low, rumbling vibration emanated throughout the ship as it began to separate from the station. Apart from the vibration, nothing was felt in the movement of the ship.

  “We’re experiencing some issues with the engine stability,” one of the engineers explained. “The vibration must be due to it.”

  “Have we reached critical status on any of the engine’s diagnostics?”

  “Negative.”

  “Take note of the issues then and proceed with the maneuver.”

  “We’ve cleared the docking zone, commander.”

  “Engines to forward: 5%. Then at 2 clicks, adjust to 15 degrees to starboard and increase engines to 40%.”

  “Textbook, commander,” the Admiral said behind her obviously impressed. “You’ve obviously read up on the Yorktown’s capabilities.”

  “Thank you, Admiral,” Adrianna said trying to remain stoic in the face of her superior.

  After some time, the ship reached its cruising velocity and the Admiral said to Adrianna: “how about you accompany me to my quarters so that I can fully brief you as to our real goals of this mission.”

  “Aye aye, Admiral,” she saluted.

  “And you can dispense with the formalities now that we’re on our own. Lieutenant, you have the bridge.”

  A middle-aged, slender man stood and stepped over to Adrianna’s post as she followed the Admiral off to a room immediately adjacent to the bridge, the Captain’s Quarters.

  As the door shut, the Admiral motioned to a small briefing table off to the right. “Please, take a seat. Brandy?” he asked as he poured himself a small glass from a small stash of alcohol he held in a cabinet normally reserved for uniforms. It was an illegal stash as alcohol was a banned substance in the Alliance Military.

  Adrianna tried not to look at all alarmed that her superior was deliberately breaking laws.

  “Being Admiral affords some treats now and again,” the Admiral commented in a brief admission of his guilt. Again, Adrianna remained reserved and did not appear alarmed or concerned. Seeing her seeming disinterest, the Admiral continued. “So how much have they informed you about what we are to do here?” The Admiral sat in a chair directly across. He slumped down almost as though standing had been entirely taxing on him.

  “We are on a reconnaissance mission. The Yorktown is to perform an assessment of the trade routes and general state of the outlands economy,” she repeated directly from her orders.

  “Good. They are still playing coy with even our own,” the Admiral stood and began to pace back and forth. “You are about to be privy to Top Secret information that only 3 others on this vessel besides yourself will know.” Adrianna listened accordingly. The Admiral continued: “we are not on a simple reconnaissance mission as everyone would have you believe. In fact, just as your orders state, official records indicate that we are out there to help these burgeoning colonies secure themselves a greater fortune, a peace mission if you will.”

  “I take it that it is not that simple.”

  “Correct, commander. We are here to shut down their trade routes and make the outland colonies beg to return to the Alliance.”

  “Sir,” Adrianna said confused. “Wasn’t it the Alliance that was forced to shun the Outlands? We couldn’t sustain the growth.”

  “Officially, yes. Again, that is what we would have everyone believe. Unfortunately, it was the lack of our strength that forced us to retreat.” He sounded regretful that it was the case. “Laws became increasingly difficult to enforce. The black market, smuggling, piracy all became too strong. There were conflicts resulting in the loss of a few ships, all officiall
y lost due to various accidents of course.” His tone was mocking and dismissive.

  The Admiral went on describing the decisions that led to the final outcome of the Alliance leaving the Outlands to their own devices. Initially, agreements were made and treaties were signed giving the Outlands some sense of sovereignty. It seemed to work in the favor of the Alliance in that they were able to retreat and rebuild while fully expecting the Outlands to begin to crumble without the Alliance support that gave them their start.

  It did the opposite though: the Outlands thrived.

  In thriving, the Outlands became a haven for anyone wanting to escape from the Alliance. It did the Alliance no good.

  Companies moved their development teams out there under legal auspices. Scientists moved in droves to escape the regulations that choked their research.

  Even worse, the untapped resources of the Outlands were incredibly rich.

  And it was not under Alliance control.

  The movement caused a bigger drain on the Alliance than had the Alliance tried push through its inability to control the area and worked with the Outlands from the beginning.

  The Democratic Alliance couldn’t continue to allow the Outlands autonomy. It felt it needed to reassert itself. Offers for aid were refused. Lawlessness and dealing with any criminal element was preferable to the strings that came with the Alliance.

  Eventually a plan was drafted to make the Outlands beg for the return to the Alliance. The Yorktown was an excellent new craft fully capable of the task.

  “If the damn ship was fully functional,” the Admiral completed his dissertation.

  Quietly, Adrianna contemplated what it all meant. She was no fan of the tactics being used, but she couldn’t argue the need for Alliance control over the Outlands. “There was no information on the troubles that this ship is having.”

  “Of course there weren’t. Even to those being assigned, why would anyone want this shit to be out about the jewel of the fleet? Aside from the name, the Yorktown is nothing more than the name of a ship in the fleet with the fastest speeds and most agility. Other than those facts which you were obviously briefed on, she’s a top secret experimental craft. She has the newest plasma cannons, a new weapon called an ion cannon that to my knowledge hasn’t worked properly since install. Her nuclear projectiles and missile banks have been a fucking joke. She has the highest density of guns per square meter of any vessel, but half of them barely function.” Dismissively he waves, “a waste of firepower if you ask me.”

  “That can’t be all though. Firepower and speed don’t make this ship much better off than a standard frigate or corvette class vessel.”

  “She can cloak.”

  Adrianna didn’t know what to say other than asking, “how did we get the technology?”

  “Stolen I believe. I wasn’t a part of that mission in any way.” His tone almost took on a melancholy quality as though he regretted not being the one personally responsible for taking the plans.

  “How does it work?”

  “It doesn’t. The bastards still haven’t worked it out yet. I think it’s the damn size of the ship. All their tests were on smaller vessels. Might even be the engines. Three different cloaking methods and not one of them goddamn work.”

  Adrianna wanted to question why the Admiral wanted to allow the ship to continue on its mission with such issues, but she held her tongue. The Admiral appeared to be a proud man. From her perspective he was either forced into the position or in full command of it. In either case, the decision making was flawed. She decided right then that there could be no second guessing him. She wanted to retain her position.

  Little by little more of the plans came into focus. They were to start by capturing and torturing smugglers to garner more intelligence. Next, they would begin to sabotage the trade routes with stolen weaponry. While this is occurring, supply ships with fleet escort will be standing by to come forward with aid.

  It was intended to make it look a way that absolved Alliance involvement. And it was projected to take months, if not years.

  “Ion cannon charged, Commander.”

  Adrianna was looking over the reports from the 3rd repair of the ion cannons. It was nearly 8 full days since the departure of the Yorktown, and there were issues with almost every system.

  “Acquire target and fire when ready,” Adrianna ordered in a dry, uninterested tone.

  For much of the journey so far, the Admiral had been in a drunken stupor. Apparently, the small stash that Adrianna had witnessed was only a small fraction of what was brought on board. She was effectively in command.

  Most of the days were spent running continual systems checks as repairs continued. It was tedious work that she was already tired of dealing with despite the successes. Much of that time was coupled with the continual questioning from the crew on why they had departed when the ship was only barely space-worthy. She wondered how to answer them other than instructing them to make it operational before they reach the Outlands.

  At one point early on their journey, during one of the Admiral’s more inebriated stupors, Adrianna went into his quarters only to find all of the Yorktown’s files open on the Admiral’s table. Despite the overwhelming sense to not review the files, she read all of them.

  It increased her disappointment with her situation.

  Even more Top Secret than the specifications on the capabilities of the Yorktown apparently was its condition. After considerable delays, the Admiral had come up against a wall in support for the project: either the mission begins on 10 August 2374 or the entire project is scrapped. The Admiral’s career couldn’t endure this last failure. It was his last chance after a long series of failures.

  So the Alliance was unwilling to send the ship out in that condition, but the Admiral was unwilling to let them even know its condition in the first place.

  “Firing in 5, 4, 3, 2…” the gunnery sergeant counted prior to the cannon firing. The test-fire was successful. A large piece of rubbish resembling an old satellite floating not too far from the ship was obliterated.

  Adrianna looked up in a muted surprise.

  The crew looked at each other in astonishment.

  “Target was destroyed,” the gunnery sergeant stated confidently although still in shock.

  “Scratch one more fault off of the list,” another of the crew said sarcastically.

  “We still have more to go, soldiers. Don’t celebrate this small victory just yet,” Adrianna cut in, trying to maintain her sense of control.

  “Yes, commander,” a somewhat calmed sergeant replied.

  Just because this the result of his failing career, doesn’t mean it has to be mine, Adrianna thought to herself as she let a smirk cross her face.

  By day 17, the only systems that Adrianna failed to complete were two of the three cloaking systems, the hull breach protocols, and the gravitation systems. In managing to get the ship operational, she actually had relayed a report to her command notifying them of the situation. Orders returned only stating that they were to avoid contact until all cloaking systems had been made operational and that the Admiral was to remain in charge otherwise until they were intercepted by two frigates in route. The Admiral was to know nothing of her contacting command or the two frigates intent on relieving him of his post.

  The Yorktown was now deep in the Outlands’ territory. There were a few close calls regarding the Yorktown’s detection, but otherwise nothing had been encountered. Adrianna spent the days now painfully watching sensors trying to avoid contact while trying to get the last two cloaking systems working. She wished to return to the days of system repairs.

  The entire time she kept the picture tucked away in her breast pocket occasionally taking it out to ask for his guidance. He was always so much more resourceful than she was, and now with the Admiral becoming increasingly active despite his drunkenness, she was worried she would wind up like she had in a previous life.

  Upon returning from the mess hall after getting
a meal, she found the Admiral sitting in the bridge directing the crew. Already feeling nauseated at his sight, she spotted a small craft that had entered the near space of the Yorktown. If the ship had even weak sensors, they were found. They were nearly in visual range. It was what she feared would happen.

  “Hail the vessel, commander,” the Admiral ordered.

  Adrianna responded as she quickly stepped around, “sir, the cloaking systems are all still not active.” It was a deliberate half-truth, but she couldn’t afford much else. “I don’t think that we should risk revealing our presence.”

  “I don’t ask you to think, Commander,” hissed the Admiral. “We’re already found. Let’s pull him in and push forward with the mission.”

  “But, sir-”

  “Hail the vessel, commander.”

  A few of the crew were waiting to see if she would do anything. They knew that the Admiral wasn’t sober, but no orders had come about to not follow him. Though she knew what was coming, she never communicated that to the crew. To defy the Admiral would mean her being relieved of command and tried for mutiny by the Admiral’s law.

  Adrianna begrudgingly stepped over to the communications station. She motioned the ensign that was sitting there to step aside. Taking the seat, she pulled up the communications on the screen in front of her and selected the vessel for radio barrage. Radio barrage ran all the known communications frequencies and types simultaneously carrying whatever message was sent.

  “Unknown vessel,” the Adrianna began plainly recording the message. “This is the DASS Yorktown. Our weapons are trained on your coordinates. Power down your engines and await further instruction. Please comply.”

  She waited a few moments while watching the Admiral’s reactions off to the side. He appeared hungry for the battle.

  “Probably a smuggler,” he said smugly. “He’ll be an easy first pick.”

  Speaking up out of line and possibly tipping her hat to her work behind his back, Adrianna replied, “sir, command instructed the Yorktown not to engage any vessels while cloaking systems were inoperable.”