66: MASINT

“Excuse me, sir.”

Sam looked up at the young New Indian sailor who’d stuck his head into the cabin he was sharing with Vig.  “Hmm— yes, Able?”

The Able Seaman held out a communications flimsy, folded in half.  “Marked as private, Security Unclassified, and addressed to you, sir.”

Sam took the flimsy with a glance at the sailor’s nameplate and category patch—the lad was a Communications and Information Systems sailor, and therefore probably had a similar security clearance to Sam, i.e. ‘Top Secret or better’.  He would also be on the pulse of the local and inter-system situations.  “Thank you, Hathiwala.  Any news on… well, anything?”

The CIS sailor pursed his lips and gave a low whistle.  He had that curious and charming Indian habit of wiggling his head from side-to-side as he spoke.  “Nothing much from civilian news sources, as they are still covering American politics and all that malarkey.  Forces news suggests that the Americans and the Socialists may launch a renewed campaign against the CCS.  Worst of all, sir, is a Bureau intel package that just hit the secure networks; a recent MASINT report says that activity in the White Rim area has increased by six times in the three weeks since the mutual defence treaty between the Americans and the Socialists was signed, and a SIGINT intercept has confirmed American ships are present at White Rim.”

Sam thought about the rapid deployment of CSTO ships to an old turf war.  Measurement and Signature Intelligence (MASINT for short) is a discipline of intelligence collection that involves measuring and recording energy outputs, radar signatures, optical and thermal signals, satellite up- and down-link speeds, communication densities and destinations, and even sound waves to simulate and predict enemy numbers and movements; this is in contrast to Signals Intelligence (known as SIGINT), where information is drawn from intercepted communications.

“How old is the MASINT report?”

The CIS sailor checked his watch.  “Seven hours, sir.”

“Can I get a copy?”

“Of course, sir, I’ll see to it personally.  Anything else, sir?”

Sam chewed his lip for a moment.  “Charts.  I need charts.”

“Not a problem, sir, you can use the terminals in the ComCen.”

“Well, in that case, I’ll save you the trouble of bringing the report down here.  Let’s go.”

AB Prakash Ajay Hathiwala led Sam to the corvette’s communication centre, which unlike most ships was not a corner of the bridge but a separate room with a sign on the door saying “Restricted Area: Authorized Personnel Only”; it was an open secret that the newest of the Yamaguchi-class long range corvettes were equipped with cutting edge sensors and communications equipment, along with an enlarged hold that could hold anything up to a light tank or two platoons of Marines in full battle order.

The Able Seaman opened the door and ushered Sam inside.  Three sailors and a Lieutenant were seated at terminals, wearing headsets and speaking among themselves in hushed tones.  Hathiwala showed Sam to the chart table, then proceeded to print out the report for him to read through.  Sam thanked him and began skimming through maps of the White Rim area.  Hathiwala set the nineteen page report on the edge of the table, but before he could go back to his post Sam tugged him by the sleeve.

“Sorry, Able, I have another favour to ask,” he said, sounding a little distant as he stared at the map of White Rim.  “Do you know whether the Skipper has seen this report?”

“Yes, sir, she was briefed by Lieutenant Kappa just a couple of hours ago.”

“Okay, can you page Gunny Kelly to the bridge for me?”

“Of course, sir.”

Hathiwala reached up to the ceiling and grabbed the Main Circuit microphone.  He thumbed the button and a chime rang through the ship.  “Gunnery Sergeant Kelly to the bridge, Gunnery Sergeant Kelly.”

Sam thanked the CIS staff and left the ComCen, walking down the narrow corridor with the MASINT report in his hands.  Lieutenant-Commander Lee McPeak twisted in the captain’s chair as Sam stepped onto the bridge.

“Heya, Sam,” the New Britannic captain smiled over her shoulder.  “Was that Hathiwala from the ComCen I just heard on the MC, calling your brother up here?”

“Yeah, got something that’s bugging me about a recent MASINT report.  I hear you’ve already been briefed.”

“Yes, I know what you mean.”

“I haven’t had a chance to read through it yet, but the summary I got from the Able was a little disturbing.”

“You bet it is.  What are you thinking?”

Sam held up the report.  “Well, first I’m going to give this to the Gunny, when he arrives.  Then I’d like to speak to you in private, if that’s alright by you, once the Gunny and I have read the report.”

McPeak shrugged and ran a hand through her short, brown hair.  “Hey, the boat’s all yours.  We’re playing by your rules.”

Vig stepped onto the bridge.  “Ma’am,” he nodded to Lt.Cmdr. McPeak.

Sam handed him the report, and Vig flicked through the first few pages.  Sam remembered the comms flimsy that had first brought AB Hathiwala to him; he pulled the crumpled piece of tracing paper from the pocket of his black coveralls.

“Oh…  Uh-oh.”