Solar Warden (eBook)

PROLOGUE

4 June 1986

“Lieutenant, what is that?”

Captain Brian Jackson stooped as he peered over his sensor officer’s shoulder at the newly implemented Augmented Reality Imaging (ARI) display.

As a child, when his parents announced they were moving the family from Nairobi to America, if someone had told Jackson his life-journey would lead him here–to command the newly christened Solar Warden starship, Resolution–he wouldn’t have believed them.

His parents had always been proud of his accomplishments–his admittance to Annapolis, his promotions–but what would they say now if they could see him? See where he was? What he was doing? Even if they were still alive, he could never tell them about Solar Warden. The Program was classified at the highest level, and only members could know how he felt at this moment. Unfortunately, that feeling of euphoria was dampened by the sensor data he was now scrutinizing.

Jackson watched the display as it revealed an array of drones surrounding Resolution in a series of concentric circles at x, y and z axises. Using signal non-locality, the drones provided real-time sensor telemetry out to a half a light year. The excitement of venturing farther than any humans had previously, now morphed into concern at their vulnerability. As a deep space exploration vessel, Resolution had limited armament. The skipper masked his apprehension, exuding a calm confidence and command presence. It was a big galaxy, and no one yet knew what dangers lurked in the dusky void beyond the Oort Cloud.

Jackson stared at a blip on the display, on the very edge of their sensor range, flashing with an intermittent pattern. His lieutenant adjusted the flight path of several drones in an attempt to intercept the anomaly, but to no avail. Just as the drones were about to get a solid fix on it, it would drift back outside their range.

“Unknown, Sir,” the lieutenant replied with a frustrated sigh. He sat back and motioned to the display. “It reads as a power signature–a big one–but I can’t get any more solid telemetry.”

“Monitor their trajectory and keep me informed,” Jackson said, his voice betraying a mild Kenyon accent. He clutched his lower back and straightened up. They were three weeks out, and even at maximum FTL, it was still almost as long before they would reach their destination–an Earth-sized planet orbiting a yellow dwarf star in the center of its habitable zone. The possibility of discovering an extrasolar planet teeming with life had everyone on this mission excited and enthusiastic.

Until now.

As he circled the command deck to stretch out his stiff muscles, Jackson glanced back at the lieutenant. The young officer, engrossed in his sensor readouts, was oblivious to those around him. An energy signature pacing them at FTL meant only one thing. Another spacecraft, most likely manned by the snakeheads. No natural anomaly could travel faster than light–at least none that Solar Warden had encountered in the few years they’d been exploring space. No. The energy signature was artificial, not organic.

Someone … was stalking them.

“Captain to the command deck.” The voice from his comm invaded Jackson’s unsettled dream about–of all things–Jonah being sucked into the maw of the whale. He fought his way to the surface of consciousness as the message repeated.

“Report status,” Jackson said, his voice croaky as he sat up and reached for a glass of water on the stand beside his rack.

“Captain, your presence is required on the command deck,” his executive officer, Commander Alfred Greyhorse repeated. The son of a Navajo code-talker, Greyhorse always spoke with a tone that made Jackson think the situation was dire.

“On my way.” He staggered into the head and splashed water on his face, then smoothed his hair and uniform before ducking through the hatch and hurrying to the command deck.

“Captain on deck!”

“As you were. What’s up, XO?” Still trying to clear his head, Jackson walked towards the sensor station to join Greyhorse.

“You’re not going to like this, Skipper,” the XO motioned to the sensor display.

Jackson rubbed his eyes as he squinted at the glowing panel. “That can’t be right,” he said as his jaw dropped. Greyhorse’s tone had been accurate this time. “That’s impossible.”

“My reaction exactly,” the XO replied.

Jackson held his breath. He’d never seen a readout like this before. “Lieutenant, what am I looking at?”

Sir, it’s larger than anything I’ve ever seen. The power signature is almost off the scale. It’s popping off drones as it heads directly for us, so it’s impossible to get any detailed sensor readings as to exactly what it is.”

“Time to intercept?”

“At its current speed, just over an hour. I hope.”

“Explain.”

“Captain, with its size and power output, I doubt this bogey has a speed limit. My guess is, it could overtake us whenever it wants.”

Jackson swallowed hard. “Comm, have you tried hailing it?” he said over his shoulder.

“Maintaining comm silence per your standing orders, Captain.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea, Skipper?” the XO asked. Jackson looked up to see the expression on Greyhorse’s face. “It’s pretty obvious who they are.”

Until now, Jackson hadn’t noticed how quiet the command deck had become. Every eye was on him, waiting for his response. He returned Greyhorse’s look of concern with one of calm assurance. The crew held their breath as the captain considered their options.

“Helm, increase speed to flank.”

“Increasing speed to flank, aye.”

“‘Gator. Plot a speed course back to Earth and execute.”

“Plotting a return course to Earth, aye, Captain.”

“You don’t think we can outrun this thing, do you?” Greyhorse said. The lieutenant was seated between the two officers, his head swiveling from one to the other as they conversed.

“Have you got a better idea, XO?”

The Lieutenant looked up at Greyhorse. “Sir, we’re in interstellar space. There aren’t any stars, planets, or asteroid fields for us to hide in or behind. And the closest nebula is over 800 light years away, on the other side of our solar system. We’re completely exposed–”

“Exactly,” Jackson said, his eyes glued to his XO. “Our only option is to make a run for it.”

“For three weeks?”

“At maximum speed, more like a week and a half.” Jackson sighed. “I wish the eggheads back at S-4 had the cloaking technology operational. Then we could hide. But we have no choice. Our only alternative is to run. Run, and hope we can stay ahead of this … this thing, until we can reach home.”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Dr. Frederick Chatham, chief scientist on the mission, had slipped onto the command deck and stood in silence as he listened to the exchange. “I’m senior scientist on this mission, and I outrank even you, Captain. You will maintain course, and get us to our destination as quickly as possible. That’s a direct order.”

“You may be mission lead,” the captain said as he spun to face the chief scientist, “but I command this ship. And I out rank you in all tactical situations and matters of safety of the ship and crew.”

“This is a research vessel, not a warship. Tactical or no, I still–”

“Sorry, Doc. I’m calling this one.” Jackson took a step toward the doctor.

“Captain!” the lieutenant shouted. “The power signature is matching our course and accelerating. It’ll overtake us in less than … ten minutes.” He looked up at the captain, his face pale.

Jackson turned back to the sensor display. Greyhorse joined him on the lieutenant’s opposite shoulder.

“Captain Jackson, I’m warning you–”

“In less than ten minutes, your warning will be moot, professor.” A pall settled on Jackson’s face as he kept his gaze glued to the sensor display. “I suggest you take whatever time we have left and make your peace with God.”

He straightened up and glanced around at his crew, his expression revealing there was nothing he could do to save them. He sighed as he spoke, “I’m sorry, people. I know this is our first mission together–a new ship with a new crew. We’ve only been deployed for three weeks. Our weapons are limited, and we don’t stand a chance against whatever is overtaking us.” Jackson stood in silence for a moment. No one stirred. Not even Dr. Chatham.

“Captain–” Greyhorse began to speak, but Jackson held up his hand. He turned to the comm officer.

“Comm, send a flash traffic message to Command and apprise them of our situation.”

From a cinderblock house on the outskirts of Nairobi to the command deck of a spacecraft 250 light years from Earth. It’s been quite a journey.

“Helm, come about. Tactical, charge weapons.”

Present day

The orb glided silent and invisible across the frigid, russet-colored surface of the fourth planet in the Sol star system. It had travelled a considerable distance, and...