In-Depth Reconnaissance 2

Mercedes joined Donovan on his bed shortly after finishing her dinner, the interval between was spent searching the surrounding floor for any scraps she might have misplaced. Despite being with Don for little over four hours, Mercedes was already treating him like family.

As she lay on her side against Don's leg, facing the edge of the bed, she drifted towards slumber. This time, she felt her rest was unlikely to be interrupted courtesy of the dim lights and calm human.

Both Don and ARC felt willing to oblige the soon to be unconscious pup. Don was due for sleep in half an hour, and ARC was keen to begin study on canine behavior without dedicating processing power to keeping tabs on the cabin.

If what ARC had could be described as instincts, then it was getting an instinctual reaction that Donovan would be having questions about what the dog might be doing. It was already seeing results.

Unfortunately for Donovan, a notification from ARC appeared on his tablet in the midst of his reading about the Black Hand.

Mission orders, directly from central.

ARC assured him that they were not urgent and he had plenty of time to sleep. This was done via text of course, no point in waking the dog.

Grudgingly, Don placed his tablet into the charging slot on the wall. Orders meant exhaustion. May as well stave it off while he could.

Orders from central in the midst of what should be radio silence could only mean one thing. There was about to be a huge pain in his ass.

His dreams would be erratic that night. Most revolved around Mercedes. A few surrounded his growing obsession with the wars of Europe and Asia. One particularly disturbing one had the Earth fall to nuclear weaponry, left a barren hellscape of ash rubble.

It was during this dream that he was woken to a whining German Shepherd on the floor besides his bed.

"ARC, what is she yelling for?"

"She may have to relieve herself."

And just like that he was up out of bed and coaxing her to the grass-pad. He almost grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, but ARC warned him against it. After about 2 minutes of convincing her the ever so slightly blue barrier of ozone gas the MAID had trapped between some of its layers was indeed safe to traverse through, Mercedes was a few pounds lighter and far less whiny.

"Did she pee on the floor anywhere?"

"No. All fecal matter and urine are completely contained in the bounds of the MAID."

"Thank god. Time until I have to wake up?"

"Thirty minutes."

"Damn it. May as well get going now. Am I going to have to make myself presentable or can an audio call be arranged with the Admiral."

"Your mission orders do not require a briefing, though I would suggest making a final appearance. It would appear that we will not be in contact with a friendly fleet for at least a month."

"WHAT?! WHY!?"

"Read the mission statement."

He hurried past the confused dog and into the cockpit. After a quick read-through, the reasons for the 'sudden detachment' were clear, even if he didn't like them.

After analyzing the data from the raid on the dockyard, Central Command determined that the damage incurred by the strike was far in excess of the damage they had anticipated. They had expected only a third of the ships hit to actually be knocked out of commission permanently, the real numbers were closer to a complete knockout.

From what had been seen by the main fleet's follow up assault, only one of the Dreadnoughts had managed to limp away with a small number of non-capital ships.

With this level of damage done, it had been determined that nothing the Ranger's fleet could do while low on ammunition and constantly hiding would be more effective than it joining as an additional task force for the general offensive. One more fleet meant one more objective could be taken care of at any given time.

On a similar note, they had determined that there was something far more important than range finding that the Noah could do.

There were reports from their spies imbedded in many of the Oligarchic governments of a supership program. They were really only rumors, but there had been enough individual reports from agents that were even on opposite sides of the solar system that Command could not ignore it.

Supposedly, they were finally forced into action when one of their surveillance satellites caught a beam of radiation that was far in excess of what could be described as background. It had come from the Kuiper Belt, far beyond the reaches of the gas giants.

They had a general location, the satellite was not focused in that direction, but it was Don's job to actually verify what it was.

If he could get a clear shot on any exposed parts not yet covered by armor, he could loose a few rods courtesy of the taxpayer an delay, if not outright end, the project.

This was the rumored 'In-Depth Reconnaissance' he had been warned of.

Mercedes was going to need some time outside of the box she would be calling home for the foreseeable future. She would be coming with Donovan to give the her first and probably final report to Admiral Adirondack as a superior.

She didn't look like it, but she was closer to the end of her career. This tour of duty would no doubt be her last. Given her role at the opening of this conflict, she was likely to be something of a propaganda icon. Job security would not be an issue.

He got into his formal dress as fast as he could without wrinkling it and stepped into the red square. Mercedes had not yet learned the command for sit, so he had to hold her in his arms.

This, irritatingly, resulted with a few hairs on the otherwise drab grey fabric.