TFS Theseus: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 2 by Tori Harris Page B

influence somewhat.”
    “Perhaps, but this situation is already developing so fast that I’m afraid we may find ourselves committed to following a path not entirely of our choosing.”

Chapter 5
    TFS Jutland, Earth Orbit
    (0605 UTC - Primary Flight Control)
    “Attention on the hangar deck, this is the Air Boss. Stand by for a forty-eight-spacecraft launch event. This will be a rapid-turn, simultaneous launch utilizing all eight elevators — two Hunter RPSVs per elevator, sixteen ships per cycle, and three launch cycles. Spacecraft-handling officers report readiness and expect a green deck in zero four minutes.”
    Commander David Waffer scowled as he studied the bank of view screens lining the front wall of TFS Jutland’s Primary Flight Control, or “Pri-Fly,” while draining his fourth cup of coffee in the past two hours. The carrier had barely been in space for twelve hours, but, gratifyingly, she had still managed to maintain a fairly steady pace of flight operations during that time.
    Within minutes of the ship’s arrival in Earth orbit, Admiral Patterson had issued an order that at least two, four-ship formations of C-Drive-equipped Hunter RPSVs were to remain on patrol at all times. Waffer knew the admiral to be an extraordinarily detail-oriented officer, so he took it as a sign of just how overloaded everyone was at the moment that he had overlooked the fact that only the Jutland currently had any C-Drive-equipped Hunters aboard. Under normal circumstances, it would not have been particularly taxing for the ship to sustain heavy flight operations over an extended period of time, and keeping eight Hunters in continuous operation hardly constituted a challenging launch schedule in any event. The problem had more to do with the Jutland herself. At over a kilometer in length and with a displacement of six hundred and two thousand metric tons, she and her sister ships were easily the most complex vessels ever constructed. Now, without the benefit of a shakedown cruise, she was being asked to perform at an operational tempo traditionally required of planet-side carriers only after having been at sea for a year or more.
    “Hey Nilla, any word on additional Reaper ops?” one of the F-373 pilots called from the bulkhead pressure door, his upper body leaning into the room from the corridor. The call sign “Nilla” had been an all too obvious choice for Waffer. A number of his fellow pilots had even commented over the years that the moniker was a perfect match for his personality, even without the added benefit of his last name. The same analogy did not apply to the Air Boss’s flying, however, where his skills were likened to that of a true artist of the rapidly disappearing trade.
    “Not for the moment, no. We’ll continue to keep two sitting ready-five, but I doubt we’ll put up a manned combat air patrol for a while. I suspect the admiral will continue the hold on nonessential flight ops until after the meeting at 1000 Zulu.”
    “Oh yeah, we heard about the conference call with our friend GORT out there. Sure hope that one doesn’t go sideways on us,” the pilot chuckled. The name “GORT” had recently gained popularity among the rank and file members of Terran Fleet Command, who had grown tired of constantly referring to the Pelaran vessel as “the Guardian spacecraft.” GORT was a reference to the often remade classic science fiction movie “The Day the Earth Stood Still,” in which a giant robot of that name was said to be powerful enough to destroy the Earth. As if that weren’t enough, one of the movie’s remakes even referenced the fact that GORT was actually an acronym for “Genetically Organized Robotic Technology.” Appropriate or not, it seemed to be a name that was destined to stick.
    “Well, if it does go sideways, I doubt we’ll be around long enough to worry about it much anyway, so whatever. At least I’ll get some rest,” Waffer laughed. “Speaking of that, the CAG was in