by Chris Hechtl
“Ouch. Glad they did beforehand,” Captain Sampson said with a wince.
“Yes. Definitely,” Marshall stated.
“Yeah, I was suspicious of the situation. I'm glad we didn't send them in all fat, dumb, and happy. It sucked losing the intel, however.”
“Intel … I thought you got that with the base?” Captain Truex asked.
“Intel potential. Roll the base up and capture her databases and they may have led us to other bases and ships or given us leads on contacts the pirates had in the shipping industry, possibly even the navy,” the admiral replied with a tight grimace. “And it may have led us to their backers. Leaning on someone might have been a break. Instead it gave us a bit of a rest from piracy in that area for a short time.”
“A short time,” Marshall echoed.
The admiral nodded. “That's right. Like cockroaches they would scurry from the light into the shadows, those you didn't get a chance to step on. But they'd be back as soon as the light moved to illuminate something else.”
“Ah, I see.”
“I have trouble believing anyone would do that—be a pirate. And don't we have dumb AI in our implants to prevent such treason?”
“You'd be surprised what people can get around. There were tricks, and yes, coding hacks.”
“Thus speaks the voice of experience, sir?' Truex asked slyly.
The chimp eyed him for a moment then shrugged. “We had to improvise ways. Like when we needed to do something off the books like deal with pirates. Did Admiral Irons pass that along?” he asked, now genuinely curious in return.
The Naga bobbed a nod. With his antlers it was an impressive gesture. More than one officer nearby flinched back to keep from getting pocked by the sharp points on his rack. He made a mental note to trim them once more. It had been some time since he had been fully suited. If there was ever an emergency, he wouldn't be able to get his helmet on. He couldn't have that. “Yes,” the Naga replied. “That at the time, your hands were tied by politicians and the law. And that the navy had to find ways around that, sometimes illegal to see that true justice was done.”
“Good,” the admiral said, picking up his cup to take another sip of tepid coffee. “Did you know that a bit over 70 percent of all pirates were predators?”
“It's that whole hunt thing,” Truex stated with a grin. He eyed the Naga. “Should we be worried?”
The Naga waved a dismissive true-hand. His tail flicked against the captain's leg once. “That just means 30 percent were not predators, sir,” he said, shooting his statement at the Admiral.
Amused eyes turned on the Neochimp. He pretended to look thoughtful. “I … didn't really see it that way. I saw it as the majority.”
“True, sir.”
“Do the unions still exist?” the chimp asked carefully.
The Naga rolled an eye to him and then away. “Not to my knowledge, sir. I'm here in this sector. Things could be different elsewhere.”
“I see.”
“You have to admit, all these pirates are human though.”
“Yes. They've taken Xenophobia. I'm curious as to why. I suppose it doesn't really matter now; the past is the past. They are stuck in the path they've chosen for themselves.”
“And we're the roadblock in that path, sir.”
“That we are.”
The admiral raised his mug. “To the elimination of the scourge of piracy. A dream hopefully made real someday,” he said. The other officers echoed that sentiment heartily.
---<>---<>---
Two days after Xavier's arrival another group arrived, much to everyone's consternation and glee. The Antelope class destroyer Mary Apple escorted the usual mix of smaller warships along with a single small collier. Apparently John was serious about the collier situation Amadeus thought pedantically.
He now had five destroyers, eight frigates including Hecate, fourteen corvettes, twelve gunships, and five squadrons of fighters. To the naval personnel, it was a considerable force. To the Neochimp they were barely getting started.
He had to deal with the changing number of ships in his slowly growing fleet. Fleet hell, barely a squadron! He shook his head in despair. He had to adjust their fighting mentality as well as his own. They had rarely trained with more than one ship, and usually only against one another or against another ship or division. For the first time, they were actually building a squadron. To the crews of those ships, it seemed exhilarating and tiring. Many wanted to get it over with. To Amadeus it was a painstaking process of drills and more drills. He had to be patient and keep his despair at their meager numbers in check.
Throughout his career he had trained as a battle line officer. He had come up through the ranks for independent command, manning starships, not carrier ops. He had thought he'd get a battle fleet when he had gotten his stars, not a carrier force. Fighting with fighters took a deft touch, one of rapiers and finely coordinated firepower and timing. Some called it the dance; he admitted he got lost in the furball.
A battle line was a sledgehammer, hitting as hard as you could until something broke, either you or the enemy. Bluff and counter bluff were just small tools in the chest as was stealth. Timing was a major factor, get it right and things fell into place. Get it wrong and your entire plan and possibly your entire strategy fell apart. Sure you could get cute and try defeat in detail, but it rarely worked as you hoped. The enemy was just as interested in staying alive and winning as you were he thought. Now that he was getting the escort carrier Admiral Halsey, he had to rethink his tactics and retrain his brain while dredging up the nearly forgotten lessons he'd learned at the academy.
He had strict orders to get the ships unloaded somehow and then turned around. Otherwise, he wouldn't get any additional reinforcements until the three ships he had sent back were turned around on their end. He grimaced. The marine gear could go groundside; he knew that. But the rest of the gear was a problem. And the people! He could slot in some of the people into positions to fill those who had been wounded. He frowned thoughtfully and checked the list. When he noted a group of green pilots, he grunted. Well, green with one ensign in charge of them. He shook his head.
He also had orders to send at least one of the colliers back to Kathy's World with the ansible Xavier's convoy had brought in. He wasn't happy about that but knew it was important to tie the star system into the ansible network to better coordinate their efforts. Transferring the ansible between ships was problematical however; they'd lose half … he frowned and plucked at his lips thoughtfully. He could send the ship it was currently in, just swap them around. He nodded. He cut the orders to do that then went over the next problem.
A third of the gear the convoy had could be stored in exterior storage modules. If they rigged them to the station the engineers had been building in orbit … he frowned. They had been smart enough to copy some of the ansible platform in their design, but he'd nixed their request to build off of it. The construction and coming and goings would have destroyed the ansible. But … he frowned thoughtfully and then decided it was high time he made their project official, commended them on their work and initiative, and then threw whatever reserve resources he had at the project since he was about to lose half of his colliers anyway.
He also made a note to himself to explore putting stashes of equipment, fuels, and ammunition around the star system.
He could also send Mary Apple's collier along with the group to Antigua since he didn't want her to risk going to Agnosta.
---<>---<>---
Ensign Lovejoy was in his element and loving every minute of it. He'd convinced the skipper and admiral to let them suck up the wreckage of the Horathian ships. The intel pukes had been allowed first dibs on it, but they hadn't sequestered much for further review. And what they did they ran past Lovejoy anyway. Half of it had been junk. It'd been dutifully documented up the ying yang and then fed into the ship's tiny molecular furnace.
That was the biggest bottleneck, not just the slowly spreadin
g cloud of debris. It was the damn tiny breadbox-sized molecular furnace he'd brought along. He hadn't realized it would be such a hindrance. Of course he hadn't planned to build such an epic project right off, now had he? He shook his head. He'd already put in for a bigger one with Commander Sindri and some buddies he had in logistics. Hopefully, they'd come through for him eventually. For now he'd make it work.
Feeding the beast as some of the engineers called it was an around-the-shift endeavor. And running the feedstock she spat out into barrels and then to the replicators on the ship was also a hassle. But they were getting there, slowly. Already they had a basic platform in space. The admiral had praised them about it. He'd been too busy to hold a christening ceremony, but that was fine, just fine.
“Onward and upward,” Owen said.
“Ah hell. More shit for us to unpack. Where are we going to put it all?” Jamal demanded.
“Yeah, that's going to be fun isn't it?” Owen replied, pretending to look thoughtful. Jamal gave him a sour look and then looked away.
---<>---<>---
The ansible network reported that the Horathian ships that had passed through Kathy's World had hit a convoy head on in B-452C. The frigate picket on duty in the star system saw the battle unfold and came in to help the beleagued Nelson.
It had been Miyoshi's first battle and nearly her last despite the damage Rose and her consorts had inflicted on the Horathian destroyers. The tangle with the convoy escort had been brief; each side immediately attempted to cover their own shipping when it was threatened by the other side's fighters. Fighters from both sides had tangled at long range, but it was an even battle despite numbers on the Horathian's side. When the forces disengaged, the Horathian's escaped into Centennial just ahead of Miyoshi and Providence. The Federation forces were left to pick up pieces.
Miyoshi's Veraxin captain had been elated by the experience when he called it in upon his arrival in Agnosta. Captain Harris and McGuyver wanted to go in hot pursuit, but Admiral Irons denied the request.
JAG officers in Agnosta secured Providence's databases and interviewed her crew. The crew had automatically assumed that the Nelsons had belonged to the Federation. The captain had denied her XO's request to ping their IFFs, not wanting to be bothered until the ships were closer. Her captain, Lieutenant Rachael Callis, was recalled to Pyrax to face disciplinary action. She would be on board Miyoshi and confined to quarters until the wounded ship reached port for repairs. Word got around quickly about the situation and its implications. There was no place for assumptions and complacency.
---<>---<>---
Hecate cycled off the jump point and returned to Protodon. Captain Gruber had Jim transmit their report as they transited across the star system. The captain then had to give the report of what had happened and his failure to capture the fleeing ships in person.
“I'm not sure what we would have done with them anyway; we only have so many people to watch over them and man the stations on Hecate with anyway,” the captain replied. “There was no way I could chance boarding one, let alone both ships, and taking them on as prizes. I wish though,” he said.
“Good try anyway. Next time nail the bastards.”
“Definitely, sir.” Captain Gruber hesitated and then shrugged slightly. Apparently honesty was getting to him. Either that or he was getting reckless he thought, plunging into the next subject. “Lieutenant Riot said we could have squeezed a couple more KPS out of the old girl, but we would have sucked our fuel dry.”
“I know. Decisions like that suck. But keeping the enemy ignorant …,” the admiral shook his head. “No matter. What is done is done.” He knew from the captain's expression that he hadn't liked the idea of firing into the unarmed freighters to stop them. He might have, but if he had been forced to destroy them it would have seriously haunted him. No naval officer liked the idea of hammering a freighter.
Unfortunately, for the crew of Hecate there was no place for them to go on leave to escape the ship however. They spent a disappointed month in the star system getting refueled and refurbished. The crew did get some recreation by visiting the small but growing space station and visiting friends on other ships, but the ground was not safe enough to have liberty there.
Admiral White refused to risk his personnel on the ground. Finally Hecate returned to B-95a3 to relieve the other frigate three days early.
“Some vacation,” Jim said in disgust.
“Ah, shut up. At least it was something better than staring at an empty star system.”
“True. Hey, you think maybe we'll get to chase down some enemy shipping this time? And maybe catch them?”
“Maybe.”
---<>---<>---
"So, they got away?" Admiral Irons asked after Amadeus forwarded the Hecate report.
"Yes," Amadeus typed then grimaced. He could use the voice address system or have Marshall take dictation but he felt like an idiot. Besides, his fingers needed a bit of a workout. "In hindsight I should have sent along a tin can and or another warship in case they did encounter the ships. They could have been run to ground. That's on me."
"I see," Admiral Irons replied.
Amadeus frowned. He knew John; he knew the guy was a straight shooter. He didn't have to play games with him. But that simple acceptance had him on edge.
"I understand your covering for Captain Gruber. He should have taken one ship down and returned early. Disabled it, left it to drift in the star system, and then returned for help. But you are right, you should have sent along more help." There was a pause. "But the universe is full of would haves, could haves, and such. It's done and over with now; we can't change it."
"Yes, sir. I suppose it is," Amadeus replied. He didn't like wallowing in his mistakes, but he was man enough to admit them. He'd do his best to learn from them too.
"I understand you want to keep as much of your forces together as possible to train them and to respond to threats. Defeat in detail is an issue."
"Yes, sir."
"You're the man on the spot. I'll send you what backup I can. You can keep Hecate, at least for now. She's a good ship and has a good crew. But I'll want to tap them and some of your other people eventually. We need to cycle some of the people into new slots as we add ships to our inventory. Ships and basing facilities," Irons said.
"Yes, sir."
"Are you planning on submitting something for Protodon? An orbital base of some sort?"
"I've been thinking along those lines. I'm not sure it is feasible. This star system's asteroid belts have been thoroughly picked over. The Oort cloud has some stuff but even the dwarf planets were broken up."
"Obviously the entries in the Encyclopedia Galactica are a bit out of date," Irons responded.
"Just a tad bit, sir."
"Right. We'll deal with it the best we can. Or I should say you will. We'll ship you what we can when we can. Phil is ironing out his issues. We're starting the cruiser lines here shortly."
"I request a cruiser, oh hell, a squadron as soon as possible, but two would be better."
"To scout? Or as a flagship?"
Amadeus rubbed his jaw and then scratched. After a moment he took a sip of coffee, still thinking. After a moment he shrugged.
"Either or. If possible, both."
"You can't do both with one ship, Amadeus. I know you want to be on the front lines, but that's pushing things."
"Sir, we need to move on Nuevo Madrid soon."
"I know. But they have advanced warning now, and we don't know what is in that star system. I'm not keen about uncovering Protodon to hit that star system."
"Yes, sir," the Neochimp replied dutifully and then grimaced. The marines were having a hell of a time with the planet too. Pacifying it wasn't as simple as some had thought. Losing Captain Gustav early on had been debilitating for the chain of command too. "We need marine support."
"Yes. And if you bite off more than you can chew with Nuevo Madrid, you'll make the situation worse."
"Yes
, sir. They've been there a while; they've had longer to dig in."
"Yes, I know," Irons replied. "And the report of a repair yard there worries me too."
Amadeus nodded. "Me too. I was thinking about sending Hecate or another ship to scout it when I have additional support. I may not move on it, but I'd like to know what we're up against."
"Good idea. But they'll be wary of a scout. Keep the idea on a back burner for now."
What we should do is wade in there, take the bastards out, capture or destroy the yard, then sit in B-95a3 and squish anything that comes through that star system, Amadeus thought. But he was wary of losing what he'd gained by that sort of roll of the dice. He was a good commander; he knew when it was time to take risks and when it was time to hold and stand firm. They had time, some time.
"I've got to go. I have another meeting with the leadership shortly."
"They giving you problems, sir?" Amadeus asked.
"Only the usual headaches. That Yuzle witch is a pain in the ass. And yes I am aware this is being recorded. Tough. She's been coming on to me a bit too strong for my tastes. I may have to have April along to chase her off."
"Oh, trot out the big guns," Amadeus typed, smiling wickedly. He'd briefly met Miss O'Niell during his stay in Antigua. They'd had dinner, the flag officers and her. She seemed nice but couldn't quite put her reporter persona away to allow them to enjoy the moment. She was definitely more than eye candy. She had quite a beautiful body for a human. He didn't swing that way, but he could see why John did.
"Cute."
"Sorry, sir."
"No, no need. I'll have a chat with Jersey about sending you more troops. He's still integrating the new recruits as well as the sleepers. I'll keep you posted."
"Thank you, sir. Have a good evening."
"Well, I wouldn't call it good until it's over. I'm just hoping I can get through it without wringing someone's neck."