Part 7:
The ship's bridge was semi relaxed. All the officers bent over their consoles, laboriously working on them, but the relaxation of having survived almost certain death still infected them. They were jubilant that they had made it through, but worried. Sensors were still suffering jump disorientation, but it seemed that the system hadn't been evacuated. Scans down the starlane indicated that the Ithkul were coming, but their ETA was uncertain.
"Captain, I think I have the Ithkul's ETA fixed, but it doesn't make sense."
Kane swiveled his chair around, and looked at Goodridge with his head bent sideways, interrogatively. "Why?"
"Well sir, if I didn't know better, I'd say that their technology was almost a century behind our own, with barely second generation hyperdrives. It is the only way to explain their speed, but that's way to primitive for their demonstrated tech base."
"What do you mean." Kane's voice clearly stated that he didn't want any more hedging. He wanted his officer's opinion, now.
"They won't be here for a year. That means that their relative speed is only about 10C."
"10C? A YEAR?" Kane's voice took on an edge, as he absorbed that shocking fact, but his face retained the impassive look that a captain had to show to his subordinates.
"Yes sir. But their transit time down the wormhole was only minutes! That seems to suggest that the wormhole is not only longer, but much, MUCH faster than a starlane. I'd assumed it was faster by a factor of a hundred, maximum, but I'd say it's much greater than that."
"How much higher?" Kane's voice was softer now, probing for information. His face remained impassive, but Lieutenant Goodridge's face shifted, and looked uncomfortable, as though the information he was presenting was disturbing to him.
"Captain, there is no comparison. Its like trying to compare sub-light travel to modern starlane travel, the difference is just too great. Many millions off times faster, that's all I can say. I'd have to do a direct analysis of the wormhole to find out, and the only way to do that is by flying a ship through it."
"You'll get that chance, if I have any say in it." Kane's voice was softer, but rougher, as though there was something he was hoping for, and yet dreading.
"Captain?" Tachaon said softly, leaning in his chair towards his captain, wondering what he meant.
"I suspect you'll see. I do believe you will see shortly." Kane's voice was inscrutable, and obviously meant to kill the conversation.
The communication officer's console gave the shrill, high-pitched cry of a case Zulu message. A war message, which was never sent in drill, sent to warn all ships that the Terran Federation had officially declared itself at war. Everyone on board swiftly snapped to the com console. They all knew that strident keen would be playing across their entire ship, as it had almost certainly played across countless ships already. The communication officer quickly silenced it in the only way the computer's programming allowed. The ceremonial words of a war declaration rolled across the ship.
"All hands of all vessels in the Terran Federation, may I please have your attention. I repeat, may I please have your attention." The strong soprano of the one voice everyone on board every ship would recognize filled the ship. "I am President Neliz. As off stardate 433685.10.05, we are now at war. I repeat, we are now officially at war." Her voice took on a determined air, knowing exactly what she was saying. Knowing the pain she had just brought her subordinates, her people, and her navy as only one who had been in war could. "The War Resolution was passed by congress just prior to the recording of this message. It reads as follows:"
"'Whereas our territories have been unjustly attacked without provocation; whereas ships of this great federation have been attacked and damaged, and nearly destroyed with no provocation or warning; whereas such attacks constitute a direct threat to this Federation; whereas moreover those attacks were made with no warning of any kind, in direct violation of the Orion Conventions which lay down the laws off interstellar warfare; whereas, and most importantly, these acts have taken the lives of many of our loyal sailors; therefore we, the lawfully elected Congress have by a 1/2 vote of the house of inherited dignitaries, a 1/2 vote of the senate, and a 1/2 vote of the house of representatives declared that a state of war has existed since the beginning of this attack; moreover we declare that the president of this union now has the full powers of her office plus the war powers customarily granted during times of war and extreme crises;" the entire bridge leaned forward, wondering upon whom congress would name the most important and vital post of the war, the war admiral in chief, "and finally we name her war admiral in chief, subject to his acceptance of the position, one loyal Captain of our fine navy, now hereby promoted to admiral," everyone glanced around as the president paused, realizing that that meant the selected war admiral in chief wasn't an admiral yet, normally a requirement for the position, "Citizen Kane. All ships, please report to your nearest military base for further instructions. President Neliz out."
All was silent on the bridge. The house of hereditary dignitaries was a fancy way to say "the house of nobles" and they all knew it. They were supposed to provide a portion of control against fads, and the temporary sway of public opinion by insuring that they had no fear of public opinion, but more often simply acted as a roadblock to desperately needed new measures. To hear that they had finally gotten off their collective asses and decided something in a timely manner was beyond belief. These people knew their government well, as it was based off of an old model long in their peoples past, the United States of America. There were many additions to help solve the problems of that union, but the basic outline was much the same. And getting a firm war declaration without an attack on a core system in a reasonable amount of time was unheard of.
Then, the real time bomb sank in. "...war admiral in chief...Citizen Kane." Lieutenant Commander Tachaon stood and faced his captain, for what was perhaps the last moment that Kane was in fact his captain. He began the rarely used ritual, used only when a captain was selected to become the war admiral in chief. "Sir, there has been a war declaration. Does this ship's captain know the pertinent regs?" His voice was coarse, and filled with shock.
"Yes, I do." Kane's voice was soft, and filled with a much worse shock, and laced sorrow.
Tachaon turned to the con officer, who would now be his first officer. "Do you intend to serve to the best of your ability, no matter your position?"
"Yes, I do." The con officer's voice was soft, knowing what would happen. He was third in command, after Tachaon and Kane.
Tachaon turned, slowly, and faced Kane, to complete the ritual. "Captain, are you aware of the full contents and nature of the war message?"
"Yes, I am." Kane's voice was stronger, and filled with a greater sorrow, and anger. His mind was racing. He knew he'd agreed to accept promotion to third admiral, but War Admiral in Chief? The position that leads all assaults, that was second only to the president, and in direct command of the entire military? The one on whose shoulders would rest the entire war effort? Did he dare? Did he want to? Was he good enough?
"Captain, as your first officer and presumed next captain of this vessel, I ask you this: Do you accept your position?" Tachaon's voice was soft, knowing that either way he would lose his friend. No officer that had refused that position could continue, he would be beached. It was the same as with any promotion, those that felt unable weren't argued with. They were agreed with, and never again had it or any other position offered to them.
Kane squared his shoulders, and began the phrases that would formally accept or reject the position offered to him. A ritual as old as the first war admiral, and because it was tradition more unbreakable than any regulation. "I, Citizen Kane, Citizen Member of the Terran Federation, officer in this military, holder of four scarlet ribbons for high judgment on four separate occasions, holder of seven purple hearts," one for each injury he had received in the course of his duty, "holder of the blue ribbon," the ribbon given to those that had risked life and limb to save a comrade during a battle, "possessor of numerous efficiency and other minor awards, and possessor of the golden sphere of Terra," the medal given only to those that risked life and limb in displaying courage above and beyond the call of duty, "hereby accept the offer made by the Congress of this great nation in their war declaration. I am no longer Captain Kane. While this war lasts, I am Chief Admiral Kane. Lieutenant Tachaon, you are frocked to captain. I stand relieved."
"Aye aye sir!" Tachaon's eyes shone with tears as he began the ritual phrase, as ancient as blue water navies. He saluted, and slowly intoned, "I relieve you as captain of this vessel. Fair winds and following seas." He slowly strode up to the command chair, which Kane yielded to him, moving to stand directly in front and to the right of it. Tachaon took the seat, and then intoned the ritual used only rarely, and considered an honor both to give and receive. "Chief admiral, may I welcome you aboard your prior command?"
"Welcome accepted, Captain."
The ship's bridge was semi relaxed. All the officers bent over their consoles, laboriously working on them, but the relaxation of having survived almost certain death still infected them. They were jubilant that they had made it through, but worried. Sensors were still suffering jump disorientation, but it seemed that the system hadn't been evacuated. Scans down the starlane indicated that the Ithkul were coming, but their ETA was uncertain.
"Captain, I think I have the Ithkul's ETA fixed, but it doesn't make sense."
Kane swiveled his chair around, and looked at Goodridge with his head bent sideways, interrogatively. "Why?"
"Well sir, if I didn't know better, I'd say that their technology was almost a century behind our own, with barely second generation hyperdrives. It is the only way to explain their speed, but that's way to primitive for their demonstrated tech base."
"What do you mean." Kane's voice clearly stated that he didn't want any more hedging. He wanted his officer's opinion, now.
"They won't be here for a year. That means that their relative speed is only about 10C."
"10C? A YEAR?" Kane's voice took on an edge, as he absorbed that shocking fact, but his face retained the impassive look that a captain had to show to his subordinates.
"Yes sir. But their transit time down the wormhole was only minutes! That seems to suggest that the wormhole is not only longer, but much, MUCH faster than a starlane. I'd assumed it was faster by a factor of a hundred, maximum, but I'd say it's much greater than that."
"How much higher?" Kane's voice was softer now, probing for information. His face remained impassive, but Lieutenant Goodridge's face shifted, and looked uncomfortable, as though the information he was presenting was disturbing to him.
"Captain, there is no comparison. Its like trying to compare sub-light travel to modern starlane travel, the difference is just too great. Many millions off times faster, that's all I can say. I'd have to do a direct analysis of the wormhole to find out, and the only way to do that is by flying a ship through it."
"You'll get that chance, if I have any say in it." Kane's voice was softer, but rougher, as though there was something he was hoping for, and yet dreading.
"Captain?" Tachaon said softly, leaning in his chair towards his captain, wondering what he meant.
"I suspect you'll see. I do believe you will see shortly." Kane's voice was inscrutable, and obviously meant to kill the conversation.
The communication officer's console gave the shrill, high-pitched cry of a case Zulu message. A war message, which was never sent in drill, sent to warn all ships that the Terran Federation had officially declared itself at war. Everyone on board swiftly snapped to the com console. They all knew that strident keen would be playing across their entire ship, as it had almost certainly played across countless ships already. The communication officer quickly silenced it in the only way the computer's programming allowed. The ceremonial words of a war declaration rolled across the ship.
"All hands of all vessels in the Terran Federation, may I please have your attention. I repeat, may I please have your attention." The strong soprano of the one voice everyone on board every ship would recognize filled the ship. "I am President Neliz. As off stardate 433685.10.05, we are now at war. I repeat, we are now officially at war." Her voice took on a determined air, knowing exactly what she was saying. Knowing the pain she had just brought her subordinates, her people, and her navy as only one who had been in war could. "The War Resolution was passed by congress just prior to the recording of this message. It reads as follows:"
"'Whereas our territories have been unjustly attacked without provocation; whereas ships of this great federation have been attacked and damaged, and nearly destroyed with no provocation or warning; whereas such attacks constitute a direct threat to this Federation; whereas moreover those attacks were made with no warning of any kind, in direct violation of the Orion Conventions which lay down the laws off interstellar warfare; whereas, and most importantly, these acts have taken the lives of many of our loyal sailors; therefore we, the lawfully elected Congress have by a 1/2 vote of the house of inherited dignitaries, a 1/2 vote of the senate, and a 1/2 vote of the house of representatives declared that a state of war has existed since the beginning of this attack; moreover we declare that the president of this union now has the full powers of her office plus the war powers customarily granted during times of war and extreme crises;" the entire bridge leaned forward, wondering upon whom congress would name the most important and vital post of the war, the war admiral in chief, "and finally we name her war admiral in chief, subject to his acceptance of the position, one loyal Captain of our fine navy, now hereby promoted to admiral," everyone glanced around as the president paused, realizing that that meant the selected war admiral in chief wasn't an admiral yet, normally a requirement for the position, "Citizen Kane. All ships, please report to your nearest military base for further instructions. President Neliz out."
All was silent on the bridge. The house of hereditary dignitaries was a fancy way to say "the house of nobles" and they all knew it. They were supposed to provide a portion of control against fads, and the temporary sway of public opinion by insuring that they had no fear of public opinion, but more often simply acted as a roadblock to desperately needed new measures. To hear that they had finally gotten off their collective asses and decided something in a timely manner was beyond belief. These people knew their government well, as it was based off of an old model long in their peoples past, the United States of America. There were many additions to help solve the problems of that union, but the basic outline was much the same. And getting a firm war declaration without an attack on a core system in a reasonable amount of time was unheard of.
Then, the real time bomb sank in. "...war admiral in chief...Citizen Kane." Lieutenant Commander Tachaon stood and faced his captain, for what was perhaps the last moment that Kane was in fact his captain. He began the rarely used ritual, used only when a captain was selected to become the war admiral in chief. "Sir, there has been a war declaration. Does this ship's captain know the pertinent regs?" His voice was coarse, and filled with shock.
"Yes, I do." Kane's voice was soft, and filled with a much worse shock, and laced sorrow.
Tachaon turned to the con officer, who would now be his first officer. "Do you intend to serve to the best of your ability, no matter your position?"
"Yes, I do." The con officer's voice was soft, knowing what would happen. He was third in command, after Tachaon and Kane.
Tachaon turned, slowly, and faced Kane, to complete the ritual. "Captain, are you aware of the full contents and nature of the war message?"
"Yes, I am." Kane's voice was stronger, and filled with a greater sorrow, and anger. His mind was racing. He knew he'd agreed to accept promotion to third admiral, but War Admiral in Chief? The position that leads all assaults, that was second only to the president, and in direct command of the entire military? The one on whose shoulders would rest the entire war effort? Did he dare? Did he want to? Was he good enough?
"Captain, as your first officer and presumed next captain of this vessel, I ask you this: Do you accept your position?" Tachaon's voice was soft, knowing that either way he would lose his friend. No officer that had refused that position could continue, he would be beached. It was the same as with any promotion, those that felt unable weren't argued with. They were agreed with, and never again had it or any other position offered to them.
Kane squared his shoulders, and began the phrases that would formally accept or reject the position offered to him. A ritual as old as the first war admiral, and because it was tradition more unbreakable than any regulation. "I, Citizen Kane, Citizen Member of the Terran Federation, officer in this military, holder of four scarlet ribbons for high judgment on four separate occasions, holder of seven purple hearts," one for each injury he had received in the course of his duty, "holder of the blue ribbon," the ribbon given to those that had risked life and limb to save a comrade during a battle, "possessor of numerous efficiency and other minor awards, and possessor of the golden sphere of Terra," the medal given only to those that risked life and limb in displaying courage above and beyond the call of duty, "hereby accept the offer made by the Congress of this great nation in their war declaration. I am no longer Captain Kane. While this war lasts, I am Chief Admiral Kane. Lieutenant Tachaon, you are frocked to captain. I stand relieved."
"Aye aye sir!" Tachaon's eyes shone with tears as he began the ritual phrase, as ancient as blue water navies. He saluted, and slowly intoned, "I relieve you as captain of this vessel. Fair winds and following seas." He slowly strode up to the command chair, which Kane yielded to him, moving to stand directly in front and to the right of it. Tachaon took the seat, and then intoned the ritual used only rarely, and considered an honor both to give and receive. "Chief admiral, may I welcome you aboard your prior command?"
"Welcome accepted, Captain."
