“Now what do you say, Dave?” asked the Sarge, who seemed to sense my shock. “By the way, you can call her Penny now. She’ll probably give you the boot if you don’t.”
“Thank you, Penny,” I managed to stutter out.
Penny said, “No, the thanks is all yours, Dave. You got us two ships, even if it was the same one twice and you kept our other ship whole or nearly so. You put forth the effort when others didn’t and you didn’t buckle under to minor setbacks such as having to walk around naked for two days. You’re the kind of person we can trust to take care of our property while it’s in the hands of the Navy. Being an officer of ours will give you a little more weight and authority. It’ll also give you a chance to get a real commission from the Navy and not just a temporary one based on your civilian rank. After that, it’s your decision and your life. Meanwhile, you’re still on board one of our ships and helping to protect our assets, so you’ll continue to receive a partial pay from us until the Thurman is returned.” She then opened the envelope and remarked, “Oh my, oh my! Isn’t this something! The Thurman has been drafted by the Navy and is to report in two weeks for duty. Isn’t it lucky that you were promoted before the official orders arrived?”
Sarge and Penny both laughed. I finally understood how they had just helped me beat the system partially. Now it was up to me.
* * *
As a newly commissioned company officer, I also got to take them to dinner, along with Marsha and Jim. I was now on a first name basis with the company officers and managed to pick up a little more information about the Sarge which only made me more curious about why he wasn’t in space. Evidently, he had been in space before and done a number of things for a number of people. But it didn’t answer why he wasn’t in space now. Before the dinner was over, Sarge whispered to me that I should also take Sarah out as my date and some of the other crew members for a dinner tomorrow. I promised him that I would, especially since I had to report the day after to the naval base for additional orders and instruction on the Navy way to do things while the Thurman was being finished.
I did take Sarah as my date along with other members of the crew to a dinner the following evening and found myself awarded the Pennyweight Best Buns award by my friends before the dinner was over. Someone had thoughtfully taken an image of me during the time that I was naked for two days and put the image on an engraved plaque.
I learned that night that a lot of the crew were switching over to the other gun ships along with, to my surprise, all of the other officers including the Captain. In Sarah’s case, I could understand her reasoning for not wanting to be involved in more bloodshed. The Captain and some of the officers, I learned, weren’t going because the company didn’t want to give up its most experienced officers. The company was hoping that I would stay on board because I would represent their interests and the Navy transfer would be to my benefit as well.
So, technically, I was going to be the Captain of the Thurman for the last two weeks of repair until a Navy captain took over from me. Between the reports that I had to do at night and the training I attended during the day, my last two weeks were full. There was no longer any time for me to see anyone other than waving at them as we passed while going about our tasks.
* * *
I received my temporary commission as an ensign in the Navy the day the Thurman was drafted. Only already assigned officers could receive a commission, so the subterfuge that Penny and the Sarge went through was well appreciated by me. I was a half-year behind my classmates, most of whom were now lieutenants of one degree or another. Only a few of them were still ensigns.
Two weeks later, I turned over the command of the ship to a captain who had only been a year ahead of me in the Academy, but about three hundred positions below me in grades. I felt fortunate that he didn’t realize that I knew about him, having taken the time to research each person assigned to the ship. He didn’t bother looking up my background or he might have felt suspicious of my date of rank. He might have even taken steps to block me. As it was, regular naval personnel took over almost all the bridge functions. I went back to being in charge of the ship’s weapons systems as well as being the best gunner on board.
The only difference was that I was then an ensign and had to do things the Navy way. The single most important thing about the Navy way was that “battle stations” didn’t mean that I could start firing as soon as I saw the enemy. I then had to wait for the Captain to order fire before my gun or any of the other guns could open up. Fortunately, most of the time, they announced it as “man your battle stations,” so I didn’t forget myself and start firing as I had been in the habit of doing.
Of the forty men and women who used to man the Thurman for Pennyweight, only ten of us were still with her. About the only thing we had in common with the regular naval personnel was that both groups called the Thurman a rust bucket because of the outer coating of rust. I think that we would have had to go out and scrape the rust off and paint the ship had there been time. However, the public was screaming to have combat ships on the line in space. Rust was apparently a minor inconvenience that the higher ups weren’t going to wait on for removal. Also, the captain didn’t get both groups to mix well, leaving the showering schedule as his first officer planned it which meant that all of us from Pennyweight were sharing our showers together.
Because the captain put his own regular people onto the bridge, I went back to hydroponics instead of being an alternate navigator. Frank was our only group member still on the bridge, but he wasn’t an officer. That meant that everyone of the other nine Pennyweight personnel looked up to me to keep them informed as to what was happening. I relied on Frank to fill me in on things that weren’t covered in the daily staff meeting that I attended. I, in turn, used the shower schedule to pass the word on to two others of our group. They passed the information on to the others. At least, our group usually knew what was going on, despite the captain’s usual inept performance in keeping his crew informed so that they could still perform the mission in case of an emergency. At any rate, we didn’t ever let our ship down.
Chapter 5
One week out of Beulah, we went into our first action. It was almost as bad as Three Star started to become. Actually, it was worse than Three Star because our squadron did retreat when we had equal odds against the aliens. I wasn’t ashamed of my ship, but I was ashamed of my Navy for allowing such ineptitude to exist within itself. We only lost one ship and didn’t destroy, let alone damage, any enemy ships. But the worst part of the shame was that the ship we lost, we lost while running with our tails tucked between our legs. I wondered why I wanted to become a part of the Navy in the first place. Regardless, I continued to refer to my textdisks to keep myself fresh on current naval doctrine, some of which was outdated compared to what could be done with a few ships in the right place at the right time, no matter how much it sickened me. About the only thing that was good to come out of that lost battle was that the Commander in charge of our ships was forced to resign. Another of the inept captains from the eleven remaining ships became the new squadron commander. It wasn’t an improvement.
* * *
We ran from our next battle, even though we outnumbered the enemy eleven to eight. About the only good things were that we didn’t lose any ships and we did lose another commander. My own captain was given the title of commander and the first officer moved up to become the captain. He wasn’t any better, though he at least knew the names of most of the crew. That was my first opportunity to move back up onto the bridge, but he preferred to work short-handed rather than trust a former civilian officer to know how to do things. It didn’t matter to him that I came with the ship. Had he done his homework, he’d have discovered that the ten of us from Pennyweight had more decorations than the rest of his crew put together. We were authorized to wear them, but we didn’t. None of us saw any reason to call attention to ourselves. We also knew the ship a lot better than he or anyone else on board.
; * * *
Our third battle, if those were battles, we actually engaged with the enemy, all two ships of him. Despite outnumbering the enemy five to one, we managed to get one ship shot up while only destroying two enemy ships. The Thurman got credit for one and a half kills. The bad thing about the results of that battle was that it enhanced the reputation of our former captain. He bragged that the Thurman did so well because he had left a trained crew behind while the squadron’s success was due to his leadership. When the combat videos were reviewed, the one and a half kills were strictly by the guns that Pennyweight personnel manned.
It was at those battles that I first analyzed the enemy movements and procedures. I didn’t consider myself a genius, not even near it. However, I was a good student and I picked up on things fairly well. One thing I observed was the enemy’s apparent consternation at how our ships were fleeing. If we didn’t change our tactics soon, we were going to run into a trap fairly quickly and regret the reduction in force of two years ago in spades. Not that I felt over-confident, but I did feel at times that I could have defeated the entire squadron with only the company’s three gun ships, before any of them were upgraded, such as the Thurman had been. Against leadership like what we had, it would have been a picnic for me and a slaughterhouse for them and I was nowhere as good as Captain Marsha Marble. I felt that she could have done it with less than three ships.
Nonetheless, we kept our mouths shut and went about our jobs. Meanwhile, I insulated myself with the regular Navy personnel by knowing about all of them and making sure that some of the things that should have been done by the Captain and First Officer were taken care of. It wasn’t long after the third battle that most of the regular Navy personnel began coming to me for information.
* * *
Our fourth battle was another retreat against only eight enemy vessels. One of our ships was shot up, but managed to stay with us and went back to port for repairs. Our Squadron Commander was allowed the one mistake, so no more command reassignments were made. Meanwhile, our squadron of nine ships was sent back out on another mission.
* * *
Our fifth battle was the most disastrous of them all to that time. We lost three ships, one of whom was the Squadron Commander’s ship. The idiot decided to charge the enemy at the last minute and forgot to inform the rest of us to attack with him. There wasn’t enough of him left to pick up. The Captain who took charge saw what happened and gave the order to retreat. That was when we lost two other ships. Of the six that returned to base, only four were deemed capable of going out, one of which was the Thurman. Of all the damned luck, the Captain of our ship was given the position of Commander of the Squadron. I could only rely on our gunners to do their job in case that moron proved to be as inept as our late commander. I refreshed myself as to his class standing, finding he had been right behind the former captain. I really wondered where in hell were our better officers?
* * *
While in port, I learned from others that other squadrons were having the same problems, some of them even worse than ours. Only the fact that we actually outnumbered the aliens in total warships to begin with was keeping us alive in that war. I could see that if things kept going the way they were, we wouldn’t enjoy that advantage much longer.
I didn’t know that there were things happening quietly behind the scenes. Some of which were going to affect me greatly in the future. A few would affect me sooner than others. Most of them were good, because there were people in the higher command structure who were wondering the same as I. They wanted to know why the hell we were losing when we clearly outnumbered the enemy and had weapons and ships just as good, if not better. The war shouldn’t have lasted the four months that it already had.
While the other two ships were being repaired at breakneck speed, I got my first promotion and became a lieutenant junior grade. I was still behind most of my classmates who were already lieutenants. A few were already lieutenant commanders. One, I learned, was actually a commander and under consideration for the rank of Captain. I was still the junior officer on board the ship, but at least I had achieved something. I also knew the ship and its personnel better than any other officer. Because I was still the junior officer, I remained in hydroponics.
Because of our poor showing, I hoped that the other two ships would be repaired before we went out again, but such wasn’t to be. We left port before they were ready as a four ship squadron. Our ship was in the lead when we came across an enemy scout that we proceeded to blow to pieces. I didn’t need combat videos to know whose gun tore the scout to pieces, but I kept my mouth shut when it seemed that everyone was trying to claim credit. It was just as well for their attitude of superiority wasn’t to last long. The scout managed to get off a warning message despite the fact that we dispatched him to his grave in record time for Navy units. It was nowhere near what the company ships could do, but that was apples and oranges. Our ships should have sent a message at that time, as well, since our position was known to the enemy and given out information to our forces that might have helped.
We continued on to our patrol area, too confident within our command structure for our own good. We ran into eight heavy ships of the alien forces who proceeded to tear into our squadron from ambush. Only the fact that Frank was piloting kept us from being hit at first. I also pulled my first insubordination by announcing “battle stations” the old way. The Pennyweight personnel understood my meaning immediately and fired at the eight enemy vessels as Frank did his best to evade their shots and continue on. We lost two of our ships outright while the other ship was damaged heavily. Somehow the other ship managed to stay by our side as we fought our way through the ambush and out beyond them. At that point, we were cut off from our base when the Commander of the Squadron called me to the bridge.
“By what authority did you give the command for battle stations and open fire?” he demanded angrily.
“By what authority do you have the gall to even demand to know why I bothered to save this ship and your hide?” I answered just as angrily, upset that he had taken us into a trap and was too frozen in his command chair to give the orders for us to open fire. “Right now, you can court-martial me, though I doubt that you’ll be able to explain it when the combat videos are processed. You can do that or you can take credit for saving what little command you have left and I’ll keep my mouth shut when we get to port.”
He looked at me with almost the same frozen behavior that I learned of on the way to the bridge. Evidently, he must have decided to back off and take what credit could be salvaged from the whole mess. At least, if we could get back, we could report losing two ships and destroying two in the ambush, provided that the other ship with us could make it back. I didn’t wait for his decision and walked out on him, leaving him to ponder his own fate, now that he was still alive, while I went back about my duties. To make it even worse, the moron didn’t have the sense to try to chew me out in private, so our conversation got around to the rest of the ship in no time at all.
* * *
At the staff meeting the next morning, our situation was discussed a little more rationally.
“We’re here in the Lima Juliette Quadrant. The Avenger is heavily damaged with casualties equalling almost half her crew. Any suggestions, gentlemen?” the Captain asked.
“Yes,” I answered. “Have them land on a suitable planet to make repairs. If they can’t, then we’ll land to pick up their personnel. Their ship can be recovered later for repairs by Navy salvage teams. In their condition, they can’t defend themselves. We can’t afford to be tied down to them in space when we need to be fluid in battle. That’s the only way to give their personnel the best chance for survival and the Navy the chance to re-use their skills.”
“But we’ll be alone…” he almost whined in reply.
“We already are alone. They’re out of action as it stands right now. They couldn’t defend themselves against a scout, let alone a light or medium class warship. They’re down
to fifty percent of their personnel on their feet, two weapons stations operable, and less than forty percent maneuverability. They’re barely able to keep us with us. If they try to do maneuvers at higher speeds, I doubt that their structure will hold together. I doubt that they want to provide cover for us to escape when they don’t even stand a chance of survival,” I answered.
The Commander stared ahead, becoming frozen again in the face of aggressive action that required a decision. Having another ship next to us must have registered in his mind as still having a force. To me, we were alone even if there were twenty Avenger’s in similar condition next to us. Quickly, the acting Captain of our ship chimed in with the same recommendation that the Avenger set down on a suitable planet. Even after the acting First Officer added his agreement to my recommendation, the Squadron Commander remained frozen. I left it to them to take action with the ship’s surgeon to have the Commander removed and later placed under sedation. That happened within two hours after the meeting dissolved, rather than adjourned.
* * *
I was called by the acting Captain to the bridge shortly after the Squadron Commander was taken to his quarters. “What would you really do? Leave them on a planet or pick them up?” he asked.
I said, “It would depend on whether there were any enemy vessels around. Do a complete sweep around the selected planet for enemy forces. Land the other ship and then ourselves as soon as they’re on the ground. Then transfer their people over here. We can use all the personnel we can get. We’re going to need to have personnel manning our battle stations around the clock once we’re alone. We try that now, we’re going to wear ourselves out. With their ship’s complement on board, we just might make it. If we run into any enemy vessels, we announce battle stations and go after them with guns blazing. No more pussyfooting. We don’t wait for them to shoot first. We already know that we’re at war. The advantage lies with the side that shoots first and the most. If the odds are too great, then we get the hell out of Dodge, but not without leaving a calling card that might slow them down.”
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