Operation Orion - Kevin Dockery [37]
“I see at least one of the planets from here,” Sanders noted, nodding to a bright speck—brighter than any star except for Arcton—that was nearly perpendicular to their course.
Before the SEALS CO could reply, they were interrupted by a crackling message over the speaker: “Lieutenant Jackson to the CIC. Requesting the presence of Consul Char-Kane, as well.”
“We’re on our way,” the lieutenant replied as soon as he saw the Shamani woman nod her agreement. They immediately entered the transport hatch, the small lift cage gliding swiftly upward from L Deck all the way to the combat information center on C Deck.
“What’s up, Captain?” Jackson asked as soon as he entered, with Char-Kane right behind him.
“Nothing, and that worries me,” Carstairs replied. “We’ve been broadcasting a call sign since we came out of the jump. Either the Pangaea or the Troy, most likely both of them, should be able to answer our hail, but there’s no sign of either of them anywhere in this system.”
Jackson felt a prickle of alarm. “Is it possible we’ve jumped to the wrong star system?” Suddenly the galaxy felt like a very large place.
But Carstairs shook his head with reassuring confidence. “Not only did we triple-check all the coordinates—and they all confirm our course—but we’ve located the three gas giant planets that orbit Arcton. It would take one hell of a coincidence to end up in a system that matched our destination so perfectly.”
“You are not mistaken, Captain,” said the Shamani woman. “My own memories of this place are strong, and I recognized several constellations from the viewing deck. This is indeed the Arcton system.”
“So these planets—well, the moons, anyway—have colonies on them, I understand,” the SEALS officer said. “Are you getting some electronic transmissions? Some sigint that confirms the population centers?”
“Yes. This is a lot busier system than, for example, our own. There are no fewer than four moons that are broadcasting on all frequencies. Each of them seems nearly as populous as Earth, at least to judge by the signal intelligence.”
“I see, sir. But no sign of our ships.” Jackson was thinking aloud. “Could they be oriented behind one of those gas giants? That would block communication pretty thoroughly, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes. They could even be on the far side of the star, and we’d have no way of knowing. But I doubt they could have made it that far this soon after making the jump. They’d have come into the system on the same orientation we did, after all, and they must have arrived within the last thirty-six or forty hours, maximum. But you’re right about the planets, too. I’ve ordered a full orbital search of the nearest one. We’ll check them all if necessary.”
“Yes, sir. Any orders for my Team?”
“Take the time to get some rest for your men. The coxswains and my crew are seeing to the drop boats; both of them are low on fuel and life support. They should be ready to go again in ten hours if necessary. It will take about that long to get to the nearest planet—Arcton II—and set up a search orbit.”
“Very good, sir. Do you want me standing by in the CIC?”
“No, Tom, that won’t be necessary. You get some rest, too. You men have done a helluva lot of good work in the last forty hours. And I’m not sure that we won’t be needing you again.”
“Of course. Good luck, sir.”
“Um, Madame Consul?” the captain asked.
“Yes?” she replied.
“Would you mind keeping us company here in the CIC for a few hours? To help us get a handle on the layout of this system. The charts show us who owns what, of course, but a hands-on lesson would be very helpful.”
“Of course, Captain.”
“If you don’t mind, sir, I’d like to hang out and pay attention for a while. Get the lay of the land, so to speak,” Jackson said. After the SEALS officer promised to get some shut-eye in