Home Fleet ships had been departing Wanderlust in small units for three days. Several had taken aboard pirate shuttles from the pirate freighters along with three pirate crewmembers for each shuttle. The pilots and copilots knew how to fly their craft close to terrain and maneuver in tight quarters while providing fire support. The Royal Marines had been transferred to the ships with extra shuttles and had been instructed in using the armed shuttles manned by pirates in a close-in fire support role. The armed shuttles would stay with the attacking marines to provide additional firepower on a moment’s notice. The last ship formation to move out of Wanderlust was Admiral Levant’s flagship, Typhoon, with two destroyers. The battlecruiser had only arrived the day prior from the Electra System. All three warships departed on one engine only as a measure to fool any spy ship that might be listening.
As the small force was moving out of port, they passed three incoming freighters. Raferty smiled. These were the last of the twelve freighters needed for the defense of Wanderlust. The other nine had come in over the last two days. Hopefully, any spy ship listening would think they were warships as Wanderlust was a military base with limited commercial traffic. After the freighters passed, Rafe glanced over at the floating repair docks. A battlecruiser and two heavy cruisers, all damaged in early fighting at Excandor, were being repaired. They had suffered moderate to severe damage, but basic repair work had been hurriedly done on them and they were almost ready to return to their units. However, they had one more task to accomplish first before that return. They would defend Wanderlust, if needed. The plan for Wanderlust was coming together. The twelve newly arrived freighters would have some quick work done on them in the Wanderlust shipyards and then be put in the outer anchorages in two lines with two towing barges keeping them in orbit over the base. Those freighters and the warships under repair would be among the many surprises being arranged at Wanderlust in case the OrCon raiders stopped by.
The Typhoon formation moved parallel to the border for twelve hours and then turned to OrCon space. Within twenty hours after crossing the border, Typhoon and her escorts were joined by sixty-two other warships. The Rurik attack group was formed. As the ships of Raferty’s force moved through OrCon space, two raiding units carried out sweeps far from these units in order to draw OrCon attention and forces away from the areas where Hawkins would cross. The two groups were three ships each as nothing else could be spared. These two groups of raiders swept through OrCon space free to engage any targets of opportunity that appeared on sensors. They would attract OrCon attention and patrols. They would also send out fake sighting reports under various freighter names.
~ ~ ~
During this time, Nemesis joined with Destroyer Squadron 22 in a quiet sector in Orion space. The Royal Navy destroyers were resupplying from three freighters for the last time before entering enemy space. Ordnance and supplies were to be crammed into every available space. Nemesis would stay with these destroyers until they met with the other ships of Flot 1.
Captain Jack Wilson escorted Blondie and the four death-squad members to the destroyer, Jib. Wilson knew what the four members of the escorts actually did as an additional duty, and he had no problem with it. Since Jib’s captain had quit, Wilson thought other members of the crew might be similarly infected. He wanted to see for himself and give the destroyer’s officers a warning.
He had all the officers gather in the shuttle bay after it had pressurized once his shuttle had arrived. He introduced Blondie as “Captain Lara Bychovskaya” and briefly covered her battle record. The officers looked unimpressed. It was clear they regarded her as a junior officer who got lucky and had no business being in command. Captain Wilson had the former captain’s gear loaded on his shuttle and took his leave. The officers and new arrivals left the shuttle bay so Wilson’s craft could depart.
“Department head meeting in my day cabin in thirty minutes,” Blondie announced abruptly as the meeting broke up. She and her four pirate escorts, two carrying her personal gear, went to her day cabin. Her gear was put in her stateroom, and Blondie took a few minutes in her head. The four death-squad members, three men, and one woman, leisurely took seats on the deck of the day cabin along the bulkhead across from the small briefing table to ensure themselves a good view of the upcoming meeting. Blondie and her four pirates knew this meeting would identify potential troublemakers and, for them, also identify potential targets. There would be a one-hundred-percent overlap of troublemakers and targets. Logan didn’t really expect any trouble, but he had everyone check their weapons.
The officers began to come in at twenty-five minutes. Soon the briefing table had only two empty seats. They were across from each other along the long sides of the rectangular table. At the thirty-minute mark, Blondie entered the day cabin from her stateroom. She stopped at the end of the table closest to her desk.
“I’d like this seat, please,” she said politely.
There was a commander sitting there. Since all the other officers were lieutenant commanders, it was safe to conclude this man was the XO. The commander made a show of slowly rising from the chair and moving to one of the two open seats. “Captain Hansett-Smith sat in the center seat,” the commander announced as he sat down in his new seat.
Blondie inwardly nodded to herself. Yup, the XO is going to be the hard case here. “Captain Hansett-Smith quit, so you would forgive me if I don’t emulate his habits,” Blondie replied as she sat.
“No way,” said a lieutenant commander at the other end of the table.
Blondie stared at him. Seconds ticked by as he stared back. The man then broke the eye lock and looked down to open up his pad for taking notes. Blondie didn’t take her eyes off him. “Your name?” she asked.
“His name is-” said the XO.
“I’ll get to you, Commander Lockwood.” Blondie cut him off without looking at him. She had gone through all the records Wilson had on Jib. Since Jib was a new join to DesRon 22, he didn’t have much beyond the official records and had had no interaction with the crew at all. There were the names and billets of all the officers, but the problem was there were no images in the records. Blondie had known who Lockwood was because he was the only commander on the ship, and she knew who Lieutenant Commander Nerina Moretti was as she was the only woman department head. She now needed to match a face to each name for all the others. She calmly waited as she stared at the lieutenant commander. He looked up and said, “Lieutenant Commander Amos Babin, Ma’am.”
Blondie nodded. “The chief engineer.” She paused and then returned to her original point. “Commander Hansett-Smith asked to be relieved, and the Duke of Black Hallow granted his wish. He was the only one to do that. One other captain was replaced because the Duke fired him.” She changed subjects as she kept looking at the engineer. “I notice in your daily material condition reports for the last eight days that you keep reporting a slight vibration in the starboard engine.”
Babin nodded. “Yes, Captain. We figure it to be a slightly loose engine mount, but we can’t check the mounts while underway, and we have been moving continuously while coming from the Electra System.”
Blondie nodded. “It’s true you can’t check the majority of the eighteen mounting points but you can check the four at the six o’clock position of the engine nacelle from the crawlway under the nacelle while we are underway. Have you checked them?”
There was some shifting around in the silence. Blondie said quietly, “I’ll take that as a no; they haven’t been checked.”
Babin talked quickly, “Captain, that is a confined space and would be a lot of work for a four out of eighteen chance of being right.” He stopped talking as he knew it sounded like laziness on his part.
Lockwood immediately took up the cause. “Captain Hansett-Smith said not to do it as the chance for success was low and did not justify the workload… Captain.”
Blondie stared at him. She believed him and was amazed any ship’s captain would let that happen. A good captain did whatever
it took to keep the ship in prime condition, regardless of the odds or workload. Besides, they would be spending hours in subspace. A slightly vibrating engine increased the ship’s noise signature. It was only a marginal increase but marginal was often the difference between winning or losing and living or dying. She talked low and slow. “That officer is gone now. The point of fact is, the odds are better than four out of eighteen as those four mounting points on the bottom of the engine assembly have the habit of being the first to work loose. It is a problem with the Spinnaker engines. I want the four mounting points checked. It should take about four hours for each inspection and, life being what it is, it will not be one of them or it will be the fourth one you check. Either way, we should have an answer in the morning.”
Lockwood didn’t let it go. “For an intel officer and a liaison officer, you seem to know much about engines… Captain.”
Blondie stared at him directly. “I was a propulsion engineering student at The Academy. In addition to being the liaison officer to Pirate Flotilla One, I am the chief engineer in Predator. I was also the project head responsible for putting Spinnaker engines on ten of Flot 1’s ships at Wanderlust a few months back. I am well acquainted with that particular engine and its challenges.” The officers stared at her. They would already have known about her official military record, but the engine refit evolution and chief engineering billet were under the auspices of Pirate Flotilla One so would not be in her official record. While they stared at her, she hadn’t taken her eyes off of Lockwood. She asked him in a quiet voice, “Do you have some sort of medical condition or suffered a concussion recently?”
Lockwood frowned at the question. “Not at all. Why would you think that?”
He was so surprised at the turn in the conversation he forgot to put in the insult at the end of his sentence. Blondie quickly responded, “You seem to have trouble remembering I’m the captain. I was just wondering if there was an explanation for that. If you have no medical reason, I will just assume you are rather slow to adapt to changes.”
“Milt Hansett-Smith was more than a captain to me. He was a good friend.” Lockwood was defiant now.
Blondie came to an instantaneous decision. She and her ship would be in a battle in enemy space very soon, and she didn’t have the time or the desire to win anybody over. She did have the time and desire to make an example of someone. As she had heard Captain Hawkins say on occasion: sometimes you have to sacrifice someone to let everyone else know you are serious. Of course, his way of sacrificing someone was to push him out an airlock or blow his head off, but she couldn’t do that. Too bad. She spoke with icy authority. “Fine. You can go join him then, and the two of you can pal around together. Just follow his gear to wherever it goes, and he’ll be there. You’re fired.”
Lockwood stood up. “You can’t do that!”
Blondie smiled a chilling smile. “Sure, I can. I’m captain of the good ship Jib, and I do not want you in my crew.”
“My father is the founder and owner of-!”
Blondie cut him off. “I don’t give a unicorn’s ass if your father is the Queen’s food taster and fluffs up her pillows. You’re gone. Go pack your trash.”
She stood, turned around, and took three steps to the computer on her desk. She hit a virtual key and spoke. “This is the captain. Patch me through to Captain Wilson, please.”
Five seconds passed, and Wilson came up on the floating screen. Blondie addressed him. “Sir, I have an officer to be transferred.”
Wilson was not surprised at all. “Fine, Captain. Have him or her ready to go in thirty minutes. The last freighter doing resupply is almost done. I’ll have one of her shuttles swing by Jib and pick up the officer. He or she will stay on the freighter for the return to Wanderlust. Admiral Barrett can use the officer for the duration of the campaign as he sees fit and then do a transfer to wherever. I’ll send the message to Admiral Barrett.”
“Thank you, Captain Wilson.”
“Glad to help, Lara.” He knew her pirate nickname but didn’t want Jib’s crew to pick up on it. Wilson signed off and Blondie looked at Lockwood. He had not moved at all but stared at Blondie. She stared back. She could see murder in his eyes as he knew his career just erupted in flames. Being relieved of duty just prior to going into combat was not career enhancing. Silence floated around the compartment until the sounds of four people rising from the deck caught everyone’s attention. The officers looked at the four pirates along the far bulkhead as they now stood in a straight line. The four pirates stared back in a calm manner but still managed to convey that gentle persuasion, subtlety, and empathy were not traits they indulged in. Easy or hard, the new captain of Jib was going to get her way. They would assure it.
Blondie broke the standoff. “Logan, help this guy find his stateroom so he can pack quickly.”
“Of course, Captain.”
Lockwood glanced once at Blondie and then departed the compartment with Logan and one other man close behind him. Blondie resumed her seat, and the department head meeting continued at a brisk pace now that everyone knew the reality of the situation.
Just before the meeting adjourned, Logan and his companion returned from seeing the former XO off the ship. Blondie looked at him as he moved toward his spot on the deck near the bulkhead. She said, “Not there, Logan.” She pointed at the empty chair recently vacated by the XO. “There. You’re the new XO of Jib.” Logan didn’t bother to hide his surprise but moved to the seat. “Of course, Captain.” He sat down.
Wilson’s destroyers finished their resupply and moved out in a tight formation. They had crossed the frontier in small groups three days prior as they had further to travel in OrCon space than the Typhoon battle group. Thirteen hours later, they were joined by more Royal Navy destroyers and then by the twelve ships of Flot 1 who immediately established formation on Nemesis. Wilson’s attack group was formed and began to take a roundabout route through a remote sector of space prior to turning toward the OrCon home system and their Metal Moon target. The destroyer formation was traveling ten hours behind two light cruisers. These two ships would draw the attention of any ships in the area while acting as scouts for the destroyers. If they were spotted, the two cruisers would race for home and draw any OrCon pursuit with them while the destroyers would stay out of the way and off enemy sensors.
~ ~ ~
Now two major Zeke forces were going deep into Orion space. All ships had crossed the border undetected. A good start, but they had a long way to go. The deeper they moved into OrCon space, the more likely they would encounter something. Two days passed in tense calm for both units.
Jib’s engineering crew had luck on their side. They had found the loose engine mount on their first inspection. It had been a cracked dampener and was replaced in five hours. Now all was well with the power plant. Word spread that the new captain might actually know what she was doing. During the first three days of the mission, Blondie spent a great deal of time touring the ship and meeting her crew. They took the change in command in stride and were eager to contribute to the success of the ship and the mission regardless of who the captain was. When not out and about, she spent her time on the bridge—so much so, that Logan suggested that if she really wanted to help her ship, she should get some sleep. Blondie knew he was right and followed the advice.
~ ~ ~
Raferty sat on Typhoon’s flag bridge next to Admiral Levant. Tactical spoke up from the ops station. “Message from Captain Wilson. All continues to go well. No contacts.”
The destroyer force reported every twelve hours in a half second burst transmission that was sent to the cruisers who forwarded the message to Typhoon to ensure comm security. Raferty nodded as he turned and looked at his sister. “The cruisers should be turning around soon. We don’t want them cut off deep in enemy space.”
Tactical spoke without consulting her timeline and her watch. She had that memorized. “In five hours. They have had no contacts at all. Seems strange. I hope the
re isn’t a sentinel line newly established and we have no intel on it.”
A sentinel line consisted of small satellite sensors that recorded all nearby activity on a continuous loop. They could be set up to transmit their recorded data on command or at regular intervals. Months earlier, a Zeke sentinel line had detected an incoming OrCon raiding force and started the events that culminated in the Battle of the Electra System. Now the pirate/Zeke destroyer force had to hope that wasn’t happening to them.
Hawkins nodded at her remark. The route had been scouted by Zeke ships on many occasions as part of the never-ending probing along the border done by both sides. Sometimes, ships went deeper into enemy territory to scout for any developments or to check the response times of enemy units. Nothing had been reported regarding a sentinel line but, by their very nature, they were hard to detect and locate. There was nothing to be done about it now except to hope no sensors were there. Hawkins was uncomfortable with that plan. He had never found hope to be a particularly good military strategy.
Chapter 17
Flicker sat quietly in subspace next to a floater on the outer defensive ring of the Orion base at Rurik. They had arrived only one day prior as the last four days were spent scouting the Metal Moon and its parent planet of Zavodila. A report had been sent as the little spy ship transited to Rurik. Now began the monitoring of the large OrCon base
All was quiet within the spy ship as Dylan Whitlock sat in Flicker’s pilot’s seat with the white phones clamped to his ears. In the copilot’s seat, Jasmine was listening on a second set as backup. Both sat up at the same time with looks of alarm on their faces. Scarecrow and Gabrielle, sitting at the small table aft the cockpit, noticed immediately. Dylan grabbed the headphones off his ears and flipped them back toward Scarecrow. Whitlock turned and was starting up the little ship’s single engine as Scarecrow held one earphone to his right ear. He listened for a second and then mumbled, “Son of a bitch.”
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