"Sir, there is an incoming communication from earth." The Captain turned in his seat and watched George press a few buttons and talk into his headset. George nodded and looked back up. "It's the President."

  "Great, that's just what we need right now. I'll take this in my office." He stood up and ran a hand over his thin goatee. "Maintain position and try to establish communications with the Jabberwocky once it reaches the surface."

  "Yes Captain."

  He walked through a set of doors in the side of the bridge and they closed silently behind him. The reflection that greeted him in the mirror on a side wall was tired and uneager for the coming conversation. The Captain tied his long hair in a pony tail and sat behind his desk. A computer screen raised out of the paneling and blinked with artificial patience. He tapped his finger a few times and pressed the button for the call to come through. The view was of the oval office, the red curtains were parted to let sunshine filter behind the woman who sat at her own desk.

  "It's about time you picked up."

  "Hello President Lourdes," he cocked an eyebrow and smiled, "still no last name?"

  She returned his smile; soft age lines framed a lovely face; a few gray hairs streaked the short waves of blonde hair that fell around her ears.

  "It bogs me down."

  "Good, I'm glad to see you've learned a few things from your mother. How is she anyway?"

  "Still retired thankfully, I guess you wouldn't completely understand that though."

  "I wasn't around for it, but I have heard about the horrors of the 'Like A Virgin 2009 Tour.'"

  "There's nothing worse than a mid-life crisis. I hope I come through my own gracefully. I'm just thankful cryogenics couldn't save the Rolling Stones; though I heard Keith Richards kept himself fairly pickled anyway."

  "Who?"

  "Oh my god I feel old."

  "I'm sorry ma'am. I didn't mean any disrespect."

  "It's okay, but I didn't call to talk about family and classic rock."

  "Please don't tell me our good General has been whining to you again."

  "Thankfully no. And though I have been briefed about our little visitor, I know we won't be able to get to it first, so I'm not fretting about it. So it's still business as usual down here."

  "Then what is it Madam President?"

  "As you know, our country is in the habit of giving foreign aid to those nations that are incapable of supporting themselves."

  "I am aware of that."

  "Australia has requested medical supplies in response to recent attacks by Paupa New Guinea and I've agreed to give it to them. We are sending two transports from scientific research and medical station Schweitzer Three down to the planet with the supplies they need to tend to their injured."

  "What does this have to do with us?"

  "The station has recently come under fire from French terrorists who are trying to take it and the supplies for their own ends. We are understandably concerned that they will attack the convoy once it leaves Schweitzer Three."

  "Trade embargoes are a bitch."

  "It's their country's own fault for invading Great Britain. If they would just admit to being one of the major causes of the third world war we might reconsider, but as it stands they have a grand opportunity that they won't be likely to pass up. Our own ships are limited, especially ones capable of outer atmospheric combat. I would like to ask for your aid in protecting the supply vessels. Our usual offer is included of course."

  "Of course." He scratched the small scar on his cheek with his thumb.

  "Please act as their escort until they can enter the atmosphere over the Indian Ocean and our own fighters can take it from there. Can you help us?"

  "Yes Madam President, I'd like to make contact with our people on the lunar surface and give them their orders and make arrangements for their return when they have completed their mission. It shouldn't take long and we should be en route to Schweitzer Three. Tell them to expect us in about fifteen minutes."

  "Thank you Captain. And let me know what you find out there. I am ... understandably curious."

  The screen went blank and the Captain slid back in his chair with a sigh.

  "Alyssa?"

  The AI plaque on the wall began to brighten. Alyssa's soft face appeared and the blank eye sockets seemed to blink.

  "Yes sir."

  "Have we reestablished contact with the Jabberwocky yet?"

  "Not yet sir; they are almost on the moon's surface."

  "Thank you Alyssa."

  She began to fade away and he watched her do so with rapt interest.

  When he had written their three programs a few years before, the Captain didn't know that the AI's would have become such a fixture on board the Necronomicon. They were originally only supposed to run simple everyday tasks on the ship; but as they evolved, so did their duties.

  Alyssa was programed to keep the ship clean, lighted during 'daytime' hours, and regulate internal temperature and atmosphere. The tasks had eventually given her a motherly quality and she soon took it upon herself to try and keep the crew healthy and comfortable.

  Alexander's original duties included computer maintenance and making sure that the ship's systems were functioning properly. The lack of any serious work gave him a flip personality that most of the crew liked and he soon branched out into other areas to keep himself occupied. It kept him from feeling 'obsolete' as he originally put it. He was fond of helping out in the holodeck and acting as liaison between members of the crew when he was allowed.

  Psi, amazingly enough, was a gaming program. Some of the crew were disappointed with the regular computer's aptitude at strategy, so the Captain created his program as a means to satiate their gaming spirit. Psi enjoyed beating everyone at just about any game they could throw at him and was still the ship's undefeated grand master at chess. He soon became bored and requested greater duties on board, wishing to as equally useful as the other two AI's. Though he didn't have total access over ship's defenses, he was very useful in combat situations and also supervised the Necronomicon's internal security grid.

  The Captain stood up and looked around the room. He wasn't an extremely tall man; about 5' 10" with a strong build. His youthful looks betrayed his command abilities and experience. He was independently wealthy and used that wealth to help those in need around the world. In a grandly selfish act, he set about building the Necronomicon, just because he knew he could. He manned it with those who had the knowledge and, more importantly, the personality to handle and thoroughly enjoy what every other nation envied.

  He smiled and walked back on to the bridge. George looked up.

  "The Jabberwocky is hailing us sir."

  "Put them on screen." The viewer blinked and a side view of the cockpit appeared. "Matthew, how was the trip?"

  "Uneventful sir," he smiled, "I've run a full check and the Jabberwocky is capable of returning to space. The others are suiting up now and I'm about to go join them. We should be going out to examine the alien craft in about twenty minutes."

  "Excellent," he sat back down in his chair, "Matthew, we'll be leaving orbit shortly. We've been asked to help protect a medical convoy; it'll take about six hours so I'm afraid we won't be able to come back and pick you up. You're instructed to come and meet us back in Terran orbit when you've finished all you can down there."

  "Understood, piece of cake sir. Have a good time."

  "Thanks, you too; and be careful."

  "You know us sir."

  The screen returned to external view, the moon spinning quietly.

  "Baby-sitting duty sir?"

  "Don't knock it Rob, it's a quick one hundred and fifty million new yen for fending off a few terrorist ships."

  "Ooo, you mean we get to have some actual combat today?"

  "It just keeps getting better and better doesn't it?"

  "Setting course for Earth. Where are we headin'?"

  "Schweitzer Three, and step on it."

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On to Ch.4 - The Alien Craft

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