Salvage Fleet

by Kevin Steverson

  “Yes,” Rick said. “I know of this race. My father’s father fought with them. May I propose something?”

  “Sure,” Harmon said. “What do you have in mind?”

  “As a mercenary race, we are constantly training our youth to take the place of those that have earned the right to finish their life tending to less dangerous positions. The elderly and those injured so as to be gently removed from the warships live out their time in one of the two tenders. I can provide four crews for your ships. Some will be young, but they will fight. How many will you need if it is agreed upon?”

  “From what I can tell, the full crew for a Nazrooth destroyer is a hundred and thirty beings,” Harmon said. “They’re old and not as efficient as new ships.”

  At this, Tock Ka laughed. It sounded strange, but there was no doubt what the noise was. “Captain Tomeral, we fully understand the need for large crews. Do not forget that our ships are centuries old and require many hands, as well.”

  “You have a point,” Harmon conceded. “How ’bout a hundred and fifty per ship, so there are boarder repel and repair teams available?”

  “A wise decision,” Rick said. “Though all Kashkal are prepared to repel boarders.”

  “What’re y’all gonna do about the environment?” Twiggy asked. “Ya can’t expect your folks to stay in their suits the whole time, can ya?”

  “It would not be the first time we have used other ships,” Saylonik Ka answered. “Nor will it be the last. We have atmosphere generators we can place in several locations per ship, and we can adjust the environmental systems to circulate the atmosphere.”

  “Well, we need to get moving if we’re going to make this happen and get some training in,” Harmon said. “I want to let the commanders of the rest of the fleet know the plan and answer any questions they may have. The one question I have is this—we can time when you need to be heading toward Joth with it between you and the gate, but I’d like to see what type of timing your fleet needs to come around the planet and be at battle speed when their fleet comes within range. I have no idea how many G-forces your race can take.”

  “Let me just say,” Rick said, “it is much more than a human, but not as much as some races…the Lormell included.”

  He nodded at Cameron, who had been quiet the entire meeting. Cameron grinned and pushed his glasses back up his nose. He could no longer hold back and said, “This is great; I never get to sit in on the meetings. I just sorta do what I’m told by whoever’s in charge. Of course, sometimes the whole plan falls apart five minutes into battle. When that happens, it’s not my fault, and it’s a free for all. Every Lormell for himself, if you know what I mean.” His words came flying out after being held in for so long, and his hands were moving everywhere as he talked. “Then we just zip around everywhere, sending missiles up their thrusters, dodge a few missiles, duck a laser or two, and move on to the next one. It’s always a great time.”

  The room was quiet. Finally, looking at Harmon, Captain Rogers spoke up, “I’ll not be paired with this one, lad.” He nodded his head sideways twice, pointing at Cameron with a curved horn. The entire room broke out into laughter.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  “Captain Tomeral,” the tactical officer informed him, “there has been an emergence.”

  Harmon had just finished briefing the commanders of the nine ships and answered the questions they had. They continued to familiarize themselves and their crews with the ships Harmon had claimed and sent back to the system. There were new crewmembers and officers on several of the ships after the Restore Movement had been identified and removed, but the ships seemed to be working within and with each other better now.

  Harmon sat upright. “Who is it?” he asked. He knew it couldn’t be the Squilla. Not yet. Jayneen continued to monitor their communications, and the invasion force had not left the Squilla system. If it had been normal shipping, his tactical officer would not have bothered him with the information. They had been given access to the system’s expected arrivals to try and watch for any sign of spying before the upcoming battle.

  Harmon knew full well that any one of the merchant ships could have spies on board. Because of this, Rick Kashka and his fleet were now headed two days away from Joth, with it between them and the gate. A merchant ship would need military-grade sensors to discover them at this point.

  “Sir, we have had these ships in our sensor sweeps before,” the tactical officer said. “They are now transmitting as Nilta-flagged ships. There are four of them.”

  “Nicce,” Zerith said from his position at the console where he and Clip were finishing up the control console of the new minelaying ships. “Perhapss I can sscore more jarss of the ssweetener.”

  “Dude,” Clip said. “They fixed those ships pretty quick. What’s it been? A couple of months or so?”

  “All they had to fix was the bridge on the large Q-ship, engine compartments, and a few holes on the others, really,” Harmon said. “The ships were hit with missiles from Sleek fighters, not one from Salvage Title. It was just clean up action once their commander was killed.”

  “That, and ssome laser turrets,” Zerith added. “Thosse are mounted on Hauler now.”

  “What do you think they want, Harmon?” Jayneen asked.

  “Beats me,” Harmon said. “Trade?”

  “Sir, a call from Tretra’s Pride,” the comms officer said.

  “Put it on the screen, Jim, thanks,” Harmon said, looking up from his small screen toward the main screen.

  Harmon found himself looking at Captain Opawn, the new commander of Tretra’s largest ship, a mega-battlecruiser. The Tretrayon Defense Fleet had never had a dreadnought, but Tretra’s Pride was almost as large as some systems’ dreadnoughts. Opawn had not been implicated in the recent Fleet clean up, and had shown her disgust with those involved with vigor. Her family came from the farming communities on Tretra.

  “Mayla,” Harmon said. “How’s the transition coming along?”

  “Hi, Harmon,” Mayla Opawn said. “It’s going well. I had to shift a lot of personnel around. About twenty-five percent of the officers on this ship, as well as a host of enlisted fleet members, had to be escorted to the surface for investigation. I took your advice and pulled from all ships, including your company’s ships. I’m happy to say we now have diversified crews on all the remaining Tretrayon Defense Fleet ships.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Harmon said. “The beings of Joth have always wanted to be involved with the defense of the system. I just hate that it took something like this for it to happen.”

  “I agree,” she said. “The reason I called is the Nilta ships. A Queen Vellerith has specifically asked for you. They called the flagship, assuming you were on board. I’ll have comms transfer the call.”

  “Thanks, Mayla,” Harmon said, and the screen switched over.

  Harmon found himself looking at a Nilta. She was larger than the queen he had spoken to on the spaceport months ago after the failed attempt to sell Salvage Title. She was about six feet long, and round. Harmon could only see a blur of her wings as she hovered. Harmon saw several smaller yellow and black Nilta hovering in the background at various positions on a freighter bridge.

  “Captain Tomeral,” she began, the communications system automatically translating. “Greetings from Nilta. I am Queen of Queens Vellerith.”

  Harmon looked over at Clip and Zerith. They looked at each other and shrugged.

  Jayneen whispered through his earpiece. “Harmon, she is the Queen of all the Nilta,” Jayneen said. “The whole system.”

  “Your Majesty,” Harmon said, sitting a little straighter. “I am honored by your call. How may I assist you?”

  “You flatter me,” the queen of queens said. “It is I who should be honored. Months ago, you freed our system of the Krith. Since then our trade has increased tenfold, and two separate systems have agreed to include our system as a stopover for their traveling warships. It
provides an additional source of income through tourism, as well as unofficial protection from any future pirates.”

  “Well, I’m glad we could help out,” Harmon said. “Your Majesty, now is probably not the best time for diplomatic meetings, because speaking of the Krift, they’re coming with a fleet of Squilla to invade the Tretrayon system. You might want to reschedule your visit. We have a major battle looming.”

  “I am aware,” the queen answered. “While I am not in possession of actual warships yet—plans have been made to build bigger shipyards and start building them—I am in possession of these four Q-ships. As much as they can help, they are yours to command in the upcoming fight.”

  Harmon was floored. The Nilta system was poor by every standard in the galaxy, yet here was their leader herself, offering what little they had to help defend the Tretrayon system. He thought for a moment and had an idea.

  “Your Majesty,” Harmon said. “If you’ll take a shuttle down to the surface of Tretra, I’ll contact our system president to see that you’re afforded accommodations. I’d like to use your four ships to help protect a precious asset. There are two large ships that serve as the homes for over five thousand of our allies’ families orbiting on the back side of Tretra. I only have a few ships I can spare to defend them. I would ask for your four ships to join them in that task. I also have an idea to increase their capabilities.”

  “Families?” the queen asked. “Yes, I find this task admirable. The young should be protected at all cost. I will depart for the surface as soon as my ships are in position.”

  After the link had been cut, Harmon looked over at Zerith. “Zerith, how many more hulls and wrecks are available to attach to a ship?”

  During the last invasion, they had smaller ships lock onto the hulls of larger ones to increase their effectiveness in battle. Later, Zerith had come up with the idea of connecting damaged ships to operational ones to be used as additional weaponry and shielding. Harmon intended to do that again.

  “Well,” Zerith said. “What wass left of the shipyardss hass been busy repairing and locking hulls, and running power to the eight shipss that belong to the Fleet. They are done, but there are partss of a desstroyer and three frigatess capable of firing misssiless and a few laserss left.”

  “I need you to coordinate with the shipyards and let them know there are four Q-ships coming in-system. Since there’s nothing else for them to do right now, have them see about connecting parts of those ships to the Q-ships. Let them know, by the time the ships get to them, they’ll have about a week to complete it.”

  “I will make the callss now,” Zerith said, and he headed off the bridge.

  “Do you think they’ll need the extra firepower?” Clip asked.

  “I hope not,” Harmon said. “I think the Kashkal support ships can take care of themselves, but it can’t hurt. Plus, I’m going to talk the president into letting the Nilta keep the addons to their ships.”

  “Smooth,” Clip agreed, smiling.

  “Hey, if the Nilta are going to start building a fleet, there could be a mutual defense pact in the future,” Harmon said. “It’s not always about the ‘right now.’”

  For the next few days, the Tretrayon Defense Fleet and Tomeral and Associates’ ships practiced maneuvers and coordination. Leethog crew members on every ship opened up systems to see how they were built, repaired a few, improved many, and put them all back together again. Some of the other races were with them, learning from them. Repair crews went through their drills with abandon, realizing they might mean the difference between survival or death.

  Harmon had received the message that the four Nazrooth destroyers were ready for action. The Kashkal crews had installed the environment generators and were now able to move about each ship without having to wear their protective suits. The suits were kept handy in case of hull ruptures like any other race would, but they didn’t have to be worn at all times.

  Harmon was having a conversation with the assigned commander of the four ships, Urlak LeeKa, when he learned that Urlak was Rick’s son. His third child, to be exact. Urlak had been transferred from the medium battlecruiser he had commanded and given command of the four destroyers. For him, it was a promotion from Lee to LeeKa, where the possibility wouldn’t have come any time soon. In the Kashkal fleet, a LeeKa commanded the heavy battlecruiser that was not the flagship. The promotion, Harmon learned later, was not because of who he was related to, but was for his ability to command. His immediate commander, Tock Ka, his older brother, said he had a knack for multitasking under pressure.

  “Captain,” Urlak LeeKa asked, “are you familiar with the fighting tactics the Nazrooth used over a century ago, before they became pacifists?”

  “I can’t say I am,” Harmon admitted.

  “It has been part of my training to learn various tactics used by our allies or by our enemies of the past,” he said. “The Nazrooth shielding is, to this day, one of the better designs used throughout the galaxy. Their offensive weapons leave much to be desired, but their ships can take considerable punishment before their shields collapse.

  “The Nazrooth Diamond is a formation that allows four ships to overlap their shielding and increase the protection for all,” continued Urlak. “This allowed them to get in close to an enemy ship or formation and deal serious damage with their main lasers. This is one of the reasons the Nazrooth kept their task forces in numbers of four.

  “The four ships you have purchased have fought together since they came off the assembly line in the shipyards. We have discovered the oscillating patterns have already been set for the ships to work-k together. You have given me a great honor in allowing me to command them. We will be a force to be reckoned with for you.”

  “That’s great!” Harmon said. “The odds get closer to even every day. I wonder if Mike and Mike knew that when they sold them to me.”

  “Sir,” Urlak said, “I truly doubt whoever you purchased them from knew. The ships have not been used properly for over one hundred years, judging by the ship’s records.”

  “Excuse me, Harmon,” Jayneen interrupted. “I don’t wish to interrupt your conversation, but there’s something you should know. It concerns Mike and Mike.”

  “Hold that thought, Urlak,” Harmon said. “Talk to me, Jayneen.”

  “They’re here,” Jayneen said.

  “What?” Harmon asked. “Who’s here?” He looked around the bridge and saw Adam, the tactical officer looking at him with a strange expression. Harmon was beginning to understand his Leethog crewmembers’ body language. Right now, his tactical officer’s eyes were much larger than normal. Adam had seen something he could not believe.

  “Mike and Mike,” Jayneen said again. “They’re here. Cube just came through the gate, with little room to spare.”

  The tactical officer turned back to his console and pushed a panel, and the image he was looking at transferred to the main screen. Harmon saw, through the Tretrayon system relays, Cube moving ever so slowly away from the gate. He couldn’t believe it had made it through unscathed. There couldn’t have been two hundred meters on each side. There was a reason every system built ships narrower than at least half the width of the gate.

  “Hey, Urlak,” Harmon said, remembering he had a call ongoing on his slate. “I have to go. I’ll call you back.”

  Right on time, the communications officer turned to Harmon and said, “Sir, you have a call.”

  “Put ’em through, Jim.” Harmon was grinning.

  “Hello, again,” Mike said, looking over the edge of his glasses before taking them off.

  “It’s funny, I was just talking about you two,” Harmon said. “What can I do for you?”

  “Talking about us?” Bradford said, leaning into the picture. “I don’t know if I like an officer talking about me. It brings back bad memories of Sol Fleet and having my future promotions in rank frozen for small misunderstandings.”

  “Misunderstandings?” Harmon asked. “What type of mi
sunderstandings? This I have to hear.”

  “Ah, you know,” Bradford said, waving his unlit cigar around. “Breaking into the mech warehouse at three in the morning after a night on the town and holding mech races with your buddies in the motor pool. Little stuff like that.”

  “You didn’t?” Harmon asked.

  “It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t decided to use hover tanks as hurdles,” Mike pitched in.

  “I could have made that last jump if I hadn’t run out of jump fuel,” Bradford protested.

  “That, and you were in the sergeant major’s mech when you landed on the brigade commander’s tank,” Mike said, laughing.

  “See,” Bradford explained, looking back at Harmon. “It was just a misunderstanding. Besides, there’s nothing wrong with retiring as a staff sergeant. A lot of Sol Fleet members did that, and they never had a mark against them.”

  After Harmon stopped laughing, he said, “Maybe you should hang out with the Tilmotal brothers.”

  “I’m not singing,” Bradford said, “if those two are who I think they are.”

  “They are,” Harmon admitted. “Seriously, guys, what are you doing here? You know all frost is going to break loose in this system shortly.”

  “That’s why we’re here,” Mike said. “We may be getting a few grey hairs on our head…well one of is, anyway, but we think we can still fight with the best of them.”

  “Hey,” Bradford said, rubbing his head. “Women like a bald-headed man. It’s sexy. For real, though, we can help.”

  “We used the tractor beams on this thing, pulled in a lot of the wreckage from that little skirmish in the Zorkarta system, and fed it to the replicators,” Mike said. “Since Cube is a repair facility and a giant defensive platform, not only can it be used to make parts and repair ships, we can build missiles quickly. We already replaced the missiles we spent, plus some. I spent half a day fixing the programming on the replicators, and they’ve been running smoothly since.”