by Chris Hechtl
And, if Jersey or the Admiralty balked because the lieutenant wasn't under his command, he'd just draft him and then do it that way.
He was still thinking complacent thoughts and about to remove his helmet when a series of mortar strikes nearby made him slouch a bit and check his safety gear. Apparently, they weren't out of the woods quite yet.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Garth
Amadeus noted how far they'd come when the ansible convoy arrived. It took a week to set the ansible up, but it was a week well spent. Admiral Irons was the second to greet them after Lieutenant Enki. The admiral kept his congratulation speech short and sweet and then switched to the business at hand.
"I believe a lot of you are wondering what the plan is. It's simple. At the moment we don't have enough forces to break in and take command of Horath. It's a simple fact, ONI has confirmed it in various ways. So, the name of the game is blockade. You are going to stand on the defense and hopefully they'll break their teeth on what we're sending you. And we've got a lot coming your way."
He paused and there were grins among the staff. "I've got something special in the pipeline coming your way to hopefully soften them up and break some of their will to fight. Irons out."
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commander Garfield, the 3346, groomed himself slightly before shining his new insignia. Their promotions had been long overdue. Kelly and some of the others had been promoted and kept in place, but Kyle had been transferred. Replacements were en route, supposedly from Bek, but he could only shrug that off. It wasn't up to him.
Rumor had it that the promotion board had finally accepted the frocked flag promotions as well. They still quibbled a bit since Second Fleet hadn't been in combat at the time. Apparently, Admiral Irons had been forced to lean on them to get them over that.
It did bug him a little about the Bekians. He had a feeling eventually they would all be replaced with a Bekian. Would they claim all the credit for winning the war? Hopefully, some impartial historian would get the record straight.
Then again, the damn historians might be Bekian too, he thought sourly.
He was tempted to take on a command of his own. He'd never thought he was cut for a hot seat on a ship but now, maybe. Just maybe.
-~~~///^\~~~-
A convoy arrival from Protodon announced the beginning of the buildup. Twenty-four Liberty class ships were there escorted by a pair of light cruisers. Until the jump line between B-95a3 and Dead Drop was scoured, they were not taking chances with the safety of the convoys.
The convoy looked like a gaggle of ducks with a cruiser on point and another playing rear guard. Which was amusing since the Liberty class ships were called ugly ducklings due to their hasty design. They were easy to build, easy to train for and maintain. They were, however, ploddingly slow in sublight and hyper compared to a true warship though. That was why the latest quartet of super dreadnoughts that had arrived several weeks before had managed to outrun them.
The Liberty ships had no armor or weapons. They were cheap though and technically obsolete. But they got the job done, moving cargo and people around or fulfilling specialist roles.
The flagship of the Liberty ships was the Jeremiah O'Brien, one of the second generation Liberty ships. She was known as a lucky Liberty ship.
Once the ships passed the IFF challenge, they were split up. Ships with personnel and equipment for the ground or orbital works were sent to the inner star system. The remaining ships went to the H002 jump point with the components of the Mulberry forts as well as stockpiles of mines and other defensive works.
-~~~///^\~~~-
A week into the construction of the first Mulberry fortress was highlighted by the return of the prowler assigned to tail the Retribution Fleet. She returned with news of a small picket in H001 and the timing of the Retribution fleet's departure to Horath. News that the survivors of the Stennis convoy and another convoy had gotten to De Gaulte was also in the logs.
Admiral White held a debate with the flag officers once they each had time to read the files. The debate was not so much as to what was about to come out of Horath but what would happen to De Gaulte. Everyone knew that the emperor would want to retake his territory once he realized Garth had fallen and the Federation was at his doorstep.
Some expected De Gaulte to be executed on the spot. "Most likely, if our psych profile of the emperor is right, he'll kill De Gaulte. The emperor is irrational according to the best psych models. He's paranoid, a gifted politician, but almost has to do it to maintain his power."
Dwight shook his head. "Which is stupid, the man fought well. But he will be scapegoated."
"Which is good for us since they'll take him off the board, and we won't have to fight him again," Commodore Ch'ch'tt stated.
"And bad since we won't have him, we'll have to face an unknown," Trajin murmured.
"True."
"Dwight, I want you to detach your first CruRon. Unseen Strike under Captain Falling Drop can park themselves in H002 as a picket. We'll service the prowler and then dispatch her to keep an eye on H001."
Dwight nodded.
"Cut the orders ASAP and make sure the captain's squadron is fully stocked before they depart. We're still a ways out before we move into phase two of the blockade," Amadeus stated. "I'll let the Admiralty know."
"Aye aye, sir."
-~~~///^\~~~-
Amadeus frowned as he checked the status board. On paper everything was solid. He knew differently however. His command staff was being shaken up and then there was the issue with his carrier flag officer.
Commodore Trajan Vargess was still grappling with Renee's death over eight months after the fact. Her death was hard but the sympathy from people was almost too much to bear. He fell into drinking and slacked off on his off time. Amadeus cut him some slack but then counseled him to sort himself out. The Neochimp even considered giving Trajan some time off but there was no place to go. The planet wasn't pacified nor was Dead Drop. There were safe zones, but a flag officer was a high value target to the enemy. Besides, with the ever-present enemy trying to get at them, who could really relax and enjoy their liberty?
He went as far as to consider sending Trajan back to Protodon for liberty or reassignment, but it would reflect poorly on the human's record. It would also send a message to Trajan that he had indeed slipped, and he might throw in the towel and give in totally.
When the latest exercise came apart, Amadeus had had enough. The best way to get through a depression was forward with help if necessary. Some people could work through the pain after facing and accepting loss. He assigned mandatory grief counseling to Trajan in a last ditch to save the other man's career.
"Sir, you should know confirmation has come in that Kittyhawk has been located," his A.I. reported.
He blinked and then pursed his lips as he mentally digested that. "Let everyone know the good news," he ordered.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commodore Dwight Harris heard about the counseling through the scuttlebutt grapevine. He realized it could have easily been him in Renee's empty coffin. It could also be him … no, hang it, no it couldn't. Renee had always been out of his league. Trajin had been lucky to have her the few times they'd managed to hookup.
He couldn't help but wonder what the deal was with the mission change. Second Fleet was being reinforced steadily. Another carrier force was in the pipeline, though they weren't receiving many more escort carriers.
Word was that he was going to get his first squadron of super dreadnaughts as soon as TF 2.4 was rebuilt. Rumor had it that he was going to lose Commodore Ch'ch'tt to TF 2.4 as well as his squadron of battle cruisers in trade though. TF 2.2 was to be turned into another hammer. If he had his druthers, he'd bring one of the Bekians in or elevate one of the BC skippers and form another task force once they were squared away. Amadeus seemed to like the bullhorn pincer approach, and the best way to do that was with a fast screen, not carriers.
But ultimate
ly it wasn't up to him.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commodore Trajan Vargess grimaced at some of the expressions as he walked through the gangways. It was getting easier. He hadn't been this badly depressed since his awakening in Pyrax years ago. Renee had been the one to help him through that trial. Now she wasn't there.
Stop that he scolded himself mentally. Stop getting into that rut! He grimaced and made his way to his office. His A.I. looked sympathetically at him on his HUD.
"Sorry, Toby, I know I've been a pain."
"I'm still learning to understand organics. Your blood chemistry is off," Toby reminded him. "Given your emotional state, that is a problem."
Trajin snorted as he took his usual seat. "Given I've been depressed and drinking a depressant, that's normal," he said with a shake of his head.
"Understood."
"What do you have for me?"
"Well, we've been informed that all of the CEVs are going to drop their chicks and return to Antigua."
"Are you serious?" Trajan asked, sitting up abruptly. "When did this come in?"
"The confirmation came in this morning during your session."
Trajan's eyes narrowed. "Confirmation? So I missed the discussion?"
"Yes, sir. Apparently so."
"Great. So, what do they want to do, put them in Stennis?"
"No, sir, Stennis is still slated to return to Antigua for refit next month. The wings will be remade into carrier wings for the carrier fortresses."
"Oh, I bet some CAGs are going to just love that!" Trajan sighed.
"Yes. Which is a nice way to politely point out your inbox," Toby replied.
"Ah hell," Trajan sighed as he saw the number. As he looked at it, the damn thing kept climbing. "The doc is right; I so need a vacation."
"There is some rather unexpected good news in that inbox, sir, from the Admiralty."
"Oh?"
"Kittyhawk has been found. Her distress signal was picked up by the B-95a3 picket."
Trajan sat back hard. He stared at a picture on the wall for a long moment. "Found?"
"Aye, sir. She's alive. She took a drubbing from the Horathian cruisers and her hyperdrive failed a light year outside of the B-95a3 star system."
"But they were found? They are alive?" Trajan whispered, hands over his face.
"They have a signal. A ship is being dispatched now to recover them."
"Keep me posted," he said as his shoulders shook. He only realized he was crying when he felt the tears on his face. He touched them. "And Toby?"
"Yes, sir?"
"Thanks."
Suddenly the galaxy wasn't a dark place anymore. Suddenly there was that glimmer of light back in it. He knew deep down he'd continue to lose friends and colleagues but for just one moment in time he felt better.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commander Briggs wore his trademark white suit as he listened to the latest ONI report. They had potential targets but not enough to send in reaction forces. Not yet, but it was tempting. Each was also being monitored, though they needed to get more coverage. Obviously, any aerial coverage might be noted by the enemy unless it was a high altitude flyer.
He drummed his fingers but then stopped when he noted the facial recognition scroll. One face fairly leapt out at him. So, Smith had made it. He'd missed his last four check-ins but he'd done it.
"Let's monitor that site closely but not too closely. ID everyone who comes in or goes near it. Do we know if they have safehouses nearby? A railroad of established safe houses and caches? What about potential watch sites?"
"Um, no, sir, we're working on that."
"Do it from a distance. I don't want us to tip our hand," the commander stated, placing his free hand on the cap of his cane and then squeezing it gently.
-~~~///^\~~~-
John Smith had found it easy to allow himself to be recruited. A couple of weeks of grumbling about his hand and how he had hated the bastards who had taken it and he'd been approached by a bar maid.
She'd honestly surprised him by the note. He'd thought it had been a hookup, one he wasn't willing to turn down given her … assets. But it had turned into a back alley confrontation, one he'd been certain he wouldn't walk away from if he'd said no.
Not that he'd had any intention of that. He'd played reluctant and hard to get intially but had listened as they'd given him the pitch.
The pitch had involved him meeting others of like mind who wanted to do something about the invaders and get their home returned to normal. It was amusing the turnaround there. He still remembered a time when the Horathians had been the invaders.
Funny how the shoe was on the other foot and they hated getting kicked by it.
He was curious about what they had in mind for him. Obviously, he wasn't much of a frontline fighter missing a hand. And if they wanted him to play suicide bomber, they were nuts.
Still it was good to make some sort of progress he thought as he headed into the mountain cabin.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Protodon
A familiar black cat stepped off the shuttle and onto the soil of Protodon. It wasn't his first visit by far. He wasn't staying long though, just a short turnover for liberty before Roy Boehm's crew were ready to go again.
Once they were underway, they weren't going to stop again until Dead Drop. If they weren't needed there, then they'd be redirected to Garth.
Given that he knew Valenko and knew what the bear was capable of; he was pretty confident their services wouldn't be needed. But you never know.
"Bast, make sure the chicks know to behave, okay?"
"Of course," Bast replied just as her host noted a familiar scent.
He turned with a frown, his ears partially back just in time for a purring female leopardess to pounce on him eagerly. "Surprise!"
He managed a single chuff before his own purr threatened to tear his chest and throat apart.
Chapter 17
Antigua
“She's the one on the left,” Mae said as she banked the shuttle. The shuttle, like the Shield team's special prowler they were already calling the Bus, was a special design. She had smart paint and some tricks that Mae wished she'd had back in Bek.
She saw Colton and the others look to the left. Mack moved between them to look over Phil's shoulder.
“It's not like you haven't seen it before,” Mae drawled.
“It's not the same,” Fitz said from his spot as he craned his neck and head to get a better view. “There it is,” he said, pointing to the ship. The only reason they could see it was because she was lit up by her running lights.
“Now, see, this is what I'm talking about,” Mack said with a ready grin as they looked the ship over from the outside. The ship was flat black and longer than the Meridian. In order to accommodate all of ONI's new specs, the design team had made some changes. Ironically, she wasn't that much different than the ships that had been completed and sent to the front a few months prior. There were some differences though.
For instance, she had a boat bay with two small cutter class shuttles to allow the crew to board stations, colonies, or even go up and down a planetary gravity well. Along with the boat bay, she had a small but generous store of parts for the shuttles as well as a personal armory and even a few combat robots.
Along with the boat bay, she also had hidden weapons. She was limited to pop-up point defense clusters as well as counter missiles tubes fore and aft. Each of the cover plates had a zig zag pattern to stitch together to keep her sensor profile low. Fitz had worked with the designers to modify the missiles normally designated to be carried by small ships like a corvette to be used as well.
So, she had a small offensive punch. Not a lot but hopefully enough to get them out of a tight spot if they needed the option.
Along with the weapons and boat bay, she had a small industrial replicator and an A.I. Colton had specified a dumb A.I. But, he had been warned the A.I. would evolve over time, and it was best to treat the A
.I. as a member of his team.
That was something they were all going to have to get used to. Mack and Fitz were practically rubbing their hands in glee and eagerness to get their hands on the ship. Mae and Skye were eager as well but leery of the A.I.
Simmons didn't care as long as the medical facilities were adequate. She'd had to fight to get a small but properly outfitted sickbay on board.
“Get back in your seats and get belted in. This docking is tricky enough without you lot looking over my shoulder and throwing the weight off,” Mae growled.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Colton followed Mae to the bridge. Mack and Fitz split off to join the small engineering crew in Main Engineering. Simmons he knew was headed for her small sickbay.
Skye was nowhere to be found. He was pretty sure she'd turn up. Most likely she'd been the smart one and had decided to drop her gear off in her quarters before heading to the ship's central computer cores.
They'd been on the ship during her construction but only briefly. Each of them had spent a lot more time in the body and fender shop than he'd expected. Near the end Simmons had been a part of the medical team handling the cybernetic implants. She had said it was out of concern for the team and to train in case she needed to make repairs in the field.
Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that, but it paid to be prepared he reminded himself firmly. He flexed his artificial hand and then rounded the bend behind Mae.
They each had the basic ONI operative package. But, on top of that, they had specialist implants. Skye had more computer support and Wi-Fi for instance. Mack and Fitz had computer support to hold the petabytes of blueprints as well as diagnostic tools.
Mae had a full flight package as well as a combat package. He had a leader and combat package as well as a few twists Fitz had thrown in.
His ruminating had let Mae open up a lead on him. His stride slowed slightly more as she took to the bridge and began to issue sharp orders. He smiled and slipped in and then listened as she took charge. She'd made it clear to one and all this was her ship and she was letting them play passenger as long as they behaved. He knew better than to argue with her.