TFS Theseus: The Terran Fleet Command Saga – Book 2 Read Online Free

on what seemed like an extended aerobic workout as they made their way from the cruiser’s cavernous flight deck to the CIC. Like the bridge, the Combat Information Center was located on the ship’s longitudinal axis, buried at the center of the most heavily armored section of the hull.
    Trying his level best to apply the lessons of Admiral Naftur’s earlier admonishment, Prescott still couldn’t prevent his inner voice from working overtime — apparently in an effort to convince himself that everything would be fine. Surely he wouldn’t be receiving me in the CIC for a public berating , he thought. Then again, this is Patterson we’re talking about. He probably never leaves the room, especially in a situation like this .
    “Man, I don’t think I’d ever need to hit the cardio equipment if I had to take this hike several times a day,” he observed, struggling to keep up with Captain Davis’ rather aggressive pace.
    “That’s a fact. I’m telling you, the size and power of this ship still blows my mind. As far as walking yourself to death, though, the carriers are even worse. I was on the Jutland right before we launched and half those guys wheel around on electric scooters and such. It’s damned undignified, if you ask me,” Davis laughed, pausing at the top of the final stairway. “You know, it may just be that you’re getting old, Prescott.”
    “I don’t know about that, but I do feel like I’ve aged several years in the past month,” he replied, drawing in a few deep breaths as they paused to authenticate their identities outside the heavily armored bulkhead door protecting the Navajo’s CIC.
    “Welcome, Captain Prescott and Captain Davis,” the AI’s synthetic voice announced. “All activity in the CIC is currently classified Top Secret, code word MAGI PRIME. You may now enter the CIC.”
    With the cruiser at General Quarters, the CIC’s lighting was even more subdued than usual, and tinted with a red hue as a reminder of the ship’s current status. Prescott paused momentarily just inside the entrance, both to allow his eyes to adjust and to give himself a moment to take in the room’s daunting scale. Unlike her more general purpose bridge, the Navajo’s CIC was dedicated to the task of employing the cruiser herself as well as various other military assets within her battlespace, as a single, coordinated weapon system. The fact that the ship was also acting as Admiral Patterson’s flagship meant that the CIC tended to be standing room only — twenty-four hours per day. Even with well over fifty TFC personnel on duty, however, the room was eerily quiet.
    Davis nodded towards the center of the room where Admiral Patterson stood gesturing at a gigantic holographic table while speaking into a headset. Even though he was obviously heavily engaged in conversation, the admiral noticed the two captains immediately. Without missing a beat, he motioned for the two of them to join him, then held up a finger to let them know he would be with them in a moment.
    “The man’s a machine,” Davis said, leaning in close so that only Prescott could hear. “As far as I know, he hasn’t slept in three days. He says he grabs naps in one of the attached conference rooms, but I’m not sure I buy it. Now that the aliens have finally arrived, we may have to take him down with a tranquilizer gun.”
    Prescott noticed that as the admiral spoke he was manipulating the holographic table display to get a better view of the space immediately surrounding the flagship. As he watched, the scale of the display changed so that only the Navajo and Guardian spacecraft were visible. Patterson then rotated the entire display so that he could see the Navajo with the Earth itself in the background from the Guardian’s perspective. Seemingly satisfied with the result of his conversation, he removed the headset and approached the two captains.
    “Welcome back, Tom,” he said warmly, extending his hand.
    “Thank you,