Fatal Discovery

Chapter 9

Section Nine

Shuttle Hanger One

1900 Hours

April 12th, 2167

Commander Garrett pulled his helmet on and stepped into the cockpit of the Class 7 fighter-pod sitting on the launch pad.

He sat back and a panel of space-glass slide over the open area. There was a hiss as the cockpit pressurized and then the screen came alive with holographic instruments measuring cockpit pressure, power and oxygen levels and most importantly, weaponry.

The onboard computer notified the pilot that it had come online as Garrett patched his comm system into the main bridge of the Excelsior.

"Pod One requesting permission to launch," he said as he adjusted his guidance processor.

"Pod One, you are clear for launch." Garrett recognized the voice. It was the chief tactical officer, Rachel Langston. He found Rachel amusing. She had indicted, on multiple occasions, that she was interested in him. Despite her myriad attempts to seduce him, she had never so much as tempted Garrett.

The commander had lost his entire family in a freak explosion aboard a space station, when he was seventeen. Ever since then, he had devoted himself to suppressing all emotion. All emotion, including love.

He tapped several controls on the screen in front of him, and his pod rotated toward the firing tube.

Class-7 fighter pods where not much larger than a dining room table, and, most nearly, resembled a lima bean in shape. A lima bean loaded with enough weaponry to destroy an entire major city.

United Earth did not publicize the fact that they had such powerful weaponry, for they desired to form a peaceful relationship, with New Russia, eventually. But it couldn't hurt to have a contingency plan, could it?

The pod completed it's rotation and, with a command from Mr. Garret, raced forward, through a special force field that let things out from the inside, but not in from the outside.

Within ten minutes, Garrett was joined by the other fourteen fighter-pods. The pods formed an upside-down "V", with Garrett at it's apex and moved as one, toward the cluster of probes, not eighty kilometers away.

* * *

"Pod One, you are clear for launch," Fletcher heard the woman at the comm station say. He checked the display on his comm-band. It was time.

"Lieutenant, please patch the ship wide comm system into the base wide comm system."

The woman complied, tapping out a series of commands. "Alright captain, your on."

Fletcher detached a small ear piece from the panel in front of him and placed it over his ear. After pressing a button on the earpiece, he addressed the crew.

"Attention, this is the captain speaking. I'm sure you are all wondering what's going on right now and I thank you all for your cooperation."

The captain took a long breath and continued, "Some of you may have heard rumors about what was discovered at the main drill sight. I can confirm that several hours ago, a mining team discovered a cavern containing what we believe to be alien technology." Fletcher felt terribly awkward. He hardly believed it himself, but the evidence was undeniable.

"Using technology left by the previous inhabitants, we were able to translate their computer systems."

Fletcher paused, trying to imagine the look on the crew's face as they absorbed the information. He looked at the comms officer next him, her jaw slack.

"We have determined that most of population was destroyed by a bioweapon that was turned against them. Those remaining fled to the stars leaving only a series of messages. I have had Dr. Trinneer run every test he can, searching for any remnants of the virus. He has informed me that the virus was unleashed from the cavern when our team entered, and has now been spread to every area of the base and the ship." Fletcher dreaded what he had to say next.

"The doctor discovered that the virus is completely inert, killed by the elements over the many years it was without a host. This should be good news, but we have discovered a cluster of robotic probes under one hundred kilometers from the ship. According to one of the messages left by the probes' people, they were left to eradicate any sign of the virus that they detect. The probes were apparently programed to destroy the virus wether or not it is active. In other words, the virus may be dead, but the probes have no way to understand that. As I speak a group of fighter-pods it on its way to confront the probes before they have a chance to do any damage. I have every confidence in Commander Garrett and his team, rest assure that you are in good hands." The captain wiped beads of sweat from his forehead.

"We must remain calm during this ordeal. I know that there was no training for anything like this, but please do not panic. Until the situation is dealt with, all personnel are to report to the underground bunker beneath the mess hall except those on the security team. All security team members on the surface are to report to the briefing room immediately. Once again, please remain calm. Fletcher out."