Battle Group Epsilon

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

March 17 2184, 06:26 Hours (Standard Solar Time)
Aboard USS Destroyer "Perseus" Stationed at Pearl Harbor

"Fire control! All batteries direct fire to enemy frigate B!" Captain Sheffield shouted. He gripped the edges of his command chair until his knuckles turned ghost white. The three cannons of his destroyer fired in unison and he could feel the recoil even in the bridge. He stared at his monitor intently and didn't exhale until the round struck the vessel midship. Plumes of smoke rose as the frigate began to tilt to one side. Already the vessel began to succumb to the dark depths, sinking beneath the choppy water.
Captain Sheffield's grip eased up on the chair, but only for a moment. "Turn thirty degrees south, engines to half power. Give me firing solutions for all remaining Pioneer missiles on the smaller ships and raise the Atlantis. Synchronize our cannon fire with theirs on the final frigate."
The Captain's chair shifted as the Perseus changed course. Forty Pioneer missiles launched from their tubes. Sheffield watched as they slowly streaked across the sky, finding their targets. All that remained was the frigate. Captain Sheffield watched as its lone cannon turned to them and fired. His chair shook violently as the Perseus took the round full in the side. "Damage report," he cried.
"Main reactor down," the computers animated female voice said, far too calmly for the situation at hand. "Losing power quickly. Fires reported on decks two through five. Engines are-" All of a sudden the computers voice cut out and everything went black.

"Sir?" asked his communications officer Lieutenant Baldwin.
"What is it Lieutenant?" Captain Sheffield asked.
"Sir, Fleet Admiral McDermott has just boarded the Perseus."
Sheffield shifted in his seat uncomfortably. "A Fleet Admiral? I wasn't aware of a Fleet Admiral scheduled to arrive here."
"Neither were we sir," Baldwin said, sounding just as flustered as the Captain felt. "No one knew he was here until he stepped off the transport. He came here to speak with you, sir."
"Thank you Lieutenant. Ready the conference room for us."
"Aye, Captain."
"And find some accommodations on this bucket suitable for a king." Captain Sheffield took off the virtual simulator helmet that covered his head and unbuckled himself from his seat. What did an Admiral, a Fleet Admiral no less, want with him? He had never heard of an Admiral McDermott and Sheffield knew most of the big names in the Navy. He brushed down his shirt and pants with his hands, straightening out his uniform.
The Perseus must finally be getting its redeployment orders. Allen Sheffield had spent twenty two years in the United States Navy. For the last eleven years he had been the Captain of the Perseus and the last eight of those had been in peacetime. Captain Sheffield had determined one main difference between peacetime and wartime. In war you had too much to do and never the time to do it. In peace you never had anything to do and too much time to do it. If he and his ship were being reassigned, he was eager to get underway. He was sick and tired of these damn virtual simulators but it helped keep his mind sharp and his sanity intact.
It didn't make sense however for a Fleet Admiral to speak with him directly and what's more, not even alerting him of his arrival. Something more was going on here than simple redeployment orders he decided.
Captain Sheffield made his way to the conference room. A long rectangular mahogany wooden table was the focal point of the room. Leather padded chairs surrounded it and the Captain seated himself at the nearest one. A carafe filled with ice and water sat beside a pair of glasses on a polished brass tray. He took a cup and poured himself some water, sipping it gingerly, awaiting the arrival of his superior. The white walls of the room were largely undecorated except for two framed pictures. The one across from him was one taken two years ago of him and his bridge officers on the day the war had ended. The picture behind him was an aerial photo of the Perseus cruising through the South Pacific.
Just then, Fleet Admiral McDermott opened the door and walked in. He was a short man with thinning white hair and stern gray-blue eyes. Sheffield jumped to his feet as though he had been struck by lightning, and gave a crisp salute. What transpired in the next five seconds confirmed Sheffield's prediction that this was no routine redeployment order.
"Put down that hand son, there's no need for formality between us today." He reached his hand out to the Captain. It took him a full five seconds to drop his salute, realize the Fleet Admiral wanted to shake his hand, and to actually complete the gesture. It was against every instinct Sheffield had developed in twenty two years of naval service to do it.
After McDermott firmly shook his hand, he said, "I could use a drink though."
"Yes sir." Captain Sheffield clumsily reached for the carafe, nearly knocking it over and said, "Is water alright, sir?"
The Fleet Admiral took a seat and sighed. "Is there something stronger?"
Sheffield put the carafe back on its brass tray and walked to a liquor cabinet made of the same dark mahogany as the table. "There's some whiskey, aged twenty seven years."
"That'll do just fine Sheffield."
Captain Sheffield poured the Admiral a few fingers of the amber liquid. Before he could put the cap back on however, his superior said, "May as well pour some for yourself, Captain. You'll need it before we're done here."
Sheffield knew that couldn't be good, but he did as he was told and poured himself some of the whiskey.
"This conference room is electronically shut off, right Captain?
No one's listening in on us."
"That's correct sir," Captain Sheffield confirmed. "This room is enclosed in 5 inches of steel and has no surveillance of any kind."
The Admiral nodded and went directly to the issue. "Last night at 20:00 SST on Space Colony C153 something tragic happened..." The Admiral cleared his throat before continuing. "One of the colonies three reactors had a melt down and the entire station was destroyed. No survivors have yet been found."
Captain Sheffield stiffened in his seat. Some colonies were as big as cities, home to nearly 100,000 people. He now understood why the Admiral had insisted he pour himself a drink. Sheffield had not heard any reports of the destruction, it was likely being kept out of the publics awareness, but that could last only so long.
"Just before the colony exploded, it broadcasted a transmission in all directions." The Admiral reached into his pocket and pulled out a datapad. He set the device on the table in front of them and leaned back to dim the lights in the conference room. His datapad projected a video onto the white wall in front of them. Static plagued the image at first but it quickly cleared up. The picture showed the shadowy face of a man. Sheffield listened as he began to speak in a raspy voice, pausing frequently to clear his throat.
The Captain shifted in his seat as the man introduced himself.
Admiral McDermott tapped the datapad, pausing the feed and asked, "What is it Captain?"
"His name, sir. In Greek Mythology, Phaeton was the son of Helios, the god of the sun."
The Admiral thought for a moment. "Hmm, interesting. He declares himself the protector of the Solar System, so it would make sense. It would seem our friend here has a high opinion of himself."
"What about the Fist of Jupiter sir?" Captain Sheffield asked. "I've never heard of them before."
"They are officially labeled as a terrorist group. With so many colonies on the edge of revolt, such groups are a dime a dozen" The Admiral explained. "We've been aware of them for years but not publicly. We didn't think they could be capable of anything like this." McDermott tapped the screen and the transmission continued. Sheffield watched the rest of the transmission intently. The image snapped off after the hidden man said, "Farewell."
Something else bothered him. As the Admiral switched on the lights, Sheffield asked, "Sir, why would they target a Space Colony to show their power? Are they not the very people they now claim to protect? Was the Colony a strong supporter of Earth policies?" So many questions flooded his mind but he refrained from blurting out any more.
Fleet Admiral McDermott sighed as he took a sip from his whiskey. He set the glass on the table and looked at Sheffield with eyes the color of steel. "Colony Retribution was a strong supporter of Earth Government but that's not why it was destroyed. A meeting was scheduled to be held there by the United Nations.... Over thirty members were onboard when the Colony self-destructed."
Captain Sheffield stared back at the Admiral in vacant-eyed silence. He only broke his trance to follow his superior's example and sipped at his drink. How was the U.N. to function now? Could it function? Captain Sheffield didn't know why, but at that moment he became aware that the Admiral's insignia was not that of standard US Navy personnel, at least not one that he was familiar with. The five stars were gold instead of the standard silver and the insignia was yellow on a black background instead of the other way around. Also, instead of an anchor and rope on the Admiral's shoulder, there was a design of a planet with rings and rocket in orbit around it.
"Sir..." Sheffield began. "I'm sure you didn't come all the way out here just to tell me this."
"You're right about that Captain." McDermott paused for a moment and continued. "Since the first colonies were built, the United Nations Space Force has been the primary military power in space. Over the last decade however, with the increase of pirates, revolts, and political uprisings, the USNF has proved to be... ineffective. They rely on small, short range ships, and cannot respond with the speed or power that is needed today." Fleet Admiral McDermott slid a small black case across the table to Sheffield. In small silver lettering at the top of the box were the words ‘United Solar Naval Initiative'. He opened the case and inside was a gold stars, the same size and color as the five the Fleet Admiral wore.
"Welcome to the USNI... Rear Admiral." McDermott stood and saluted Sheffield. Allen Sheffield shot to his feet and returned the salute. When the Fleet Admiral dropped his hand, he said, "You are to command the first battle group of naval ships in space."
Sheffield was speechless. He dropped his hand and searched for the words. He had never dreamed they'd make him an Admiral. He wanted to thank McDermott but stopped himself. He wanted to ask about what kind of ships he would command, how many, what their specifications were. There were so many questions he wanted to ask but in the end he asked only one. "Why me, sir?"
The Fleet Admiral looked him up and down and said, "You were in the UNSF once were you not?"
"Aye sir, but only for three years."
"Yes, I read the report. A cockpit malfunction and a piece of shrapnel shattered your knee. You wanted to stay a pilot but they wouldn't let you with your leg. You transferred to the Navy as an officer and climbed the ranks. Your CSV is very impressive. Two purple hearts, eight campaign ribbons, two silver stars, one bronze and a Navy Cross. You commanded the Perseus through the Red War. You're a good tactician, a strong leader, and no stranger to space. You're just what we need." McDermott pulled a nanocrystal from his pants pocket and handed it to Admiral Sheffield. "This will explain more," he said. The Fleet Admiral turned to leave. When he reached the door he stopped and said, "I'll be seeing you soon, Admiral."
The door closed and Sheffield returned to his seat. He finished the last of his whiskey and poured himself some more.