Operation: Pacifica, First Contact
by Fleet Commander Samhain, Doberman Empire


 Samhain sat on the bow of the _Des Moines_ enjoying the dark,
  moonless Pacific night.  Clouds obscured what was approaching a full moon,
  giving the night an eerie, cool feel.  It had been quite some time since
  he'd had a chance to be on the ocean at night, and he was enjoying every
  minute of it.  His silent contemplation was interrupted by an approaching
  lieutenant.  "Nice night, isn't it, lieutenant?"  Samhain addressed him
  before he could say a word.  "But then, that isn't why you're out here, is
  it... speak up, what's on your mind?"


 *How does he /do/ that?* wondered the Lieutenant.  "Sir, there's a
  call for you in the comm center.  It's Captain Jarvis, sir."


 *Jarvis? that doesn't bode well...* thought Samhain to himself.
  "Jarvis, eh?  I'll be right there."



...




 Samhain stepped into the comm center where an audio link was
  already established with the _Vindicator_.  Video links were still too bulky
  bandwidth-wise for the low-frequencies demanded in order to penetrate the
  murky depths of the ocean and reach the submarine.


 "This is Samhain.  Go ahead, Captain."


 "Sir, our towed-array is picking up screw sounds from a bearing of
  approximately 149.  Moving fast, sounds like a large number of ships....
  could be a fleet of some kind; it's too far away for us to get a solid fix
  on it right now."


 "Thanks.  Anything else, Captain?"


 "Just one thing, Sir.  I'm amazed we can hear them at all, which
  means that they're moving fast."


 "Understood.  Samhain out," he gestured across his neck for the
  communications officer to cut the transmission.  "Get me Captain Geoffries
  aboard the _Freedom_.  We need to check this out."


 The communications officer pushed a few buttons on his console and
  brought up a video link with the aircraft carrier.  In a matter of seconds,
  an image of Captain Geoffries appeared on the screen, clearly in his private
  quarters since he was lying on a cot, yet also quite obviously wide awake.
  He put a book he'd been reading down on his belly, then reached up to take
  his carved pipe from his mouth before speaking.  "Samhain old chap, what can
  I do for you at this time of night?  of course, I guess you're always up
  this time of night, though, aren't you?" he pondered aloud in thick British
  tones.  "No matter.  So what can I do for you?"


 "Captain Jarvis just told me that he's picking up a large number of
  surface contacts at a bearing of approximately 149.  Apparently moving
  fast... I suggest you have the AWACS bird check it out, and, if you think it
  warranted, send an expeditionary group to check it out.  J-Rock should be
  aboard and have a group ready if you need it."


 "Right.  I'll get right on it.  Cheerio!"



...


 "Eagle-Eye 1 this is floating island."


 "Copy, floating island."


 "Eagle-Eye 1, we have possible surface contacts at 149, can you
  verify?"


 Crews aboard the E2-C Hawkeye scrambled to check and recheck all
  their various instruments, focusing their radar beam at long range in the
  given search region.  What was down there?


 "Sir, I'm registering five... no, ten... damn, with all the
  interference in the area I can't make out exactly how many... surface
  contacts.  That's a definite contact, sir.  There's someone down there all
  right," reported one of the radar-techs to the radar plane's communications
  officer.


 "Floating Island, this is Eagle-Eye 1."


 "Copy, Eagle-Eye 1, go ahead."


 "Definite surface contacts.  Number is uncertain; heavy atmospheric
  distortion.  Recommend an expeditionary force, over."


 "Copy that, Eagle-Eye.  Organizing expeditionary force.  Floating
  Island out."


 *Damn,* thought the communications officer to himself, *I hate
  waiting...*



...
"First Contact"
Copyright 1996
David R. Hibbs