Convoy (The Shelby Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  “Nothing so planet shattering. I'd like you to consider swapping some of the ships you requested, specifically the warships, for smaller ships. I can give you quite a few frigates, corvettes, gunships, gunboats and so on.”

  “Small ships. I note you didn't mention any destroyers,” Shelby said with narrowed eyes.

  “Well, those are at a premium at the moment I'm afraid,” the commander stated. “I even have a few shuttles and other equipment in storage. We usually sell the shuttles at auction as we swap them out for military hardware. We've got two available now. I can sign them over to you now if you'd like,” she said signaling hope at breaking an impasse.

  “Can I take this back to my staff and get back to you with a decision later, Commander? I don't want to jump into something without first gaming out what it will do to us for the mission,” Shelby replied carefully.

  “Of course. I didn't expect an answer today. Let me know,” the commander said, signaling second-level reluctant agreement. “Just don't wait too long or they may go to someone else,” she warned.

  “I know, ma'am. I'll keep you posted.”

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  When Shelby returned to Prometheus, she informed her senior staff that she'd brokered a deal. That was far from the truth, but she was close to brokering one she might be able to live with.

  “I did some digging on the way back here. I know the game. Commander Ch'n'x and Commodore X'll'rr are fellow sleepers; they are also Veraxins not that species matters at all in this instance. I'm pretty sure the commodore pulled the strings with her buddy, and the commander was happy to accept the offer of a favor.”

  “If that's how it went. I don't doubt it, but we may never know,” Cynthia said bitterly.

  “A problem XO?” Shelby asked, eying the blond woman.

  The referral to her rank was a subtle rebuke Cynthia knew. She forced herself to reorder her thoughts. “It's just … I hate crap like that. Stealing what we need for a favor to a friend. That's just … wrong.”

  “It's politics. Welcome to the real world, Cynthia; it's even in the military unfortunately,” Shelby said. “It's not just what you need, it's who you know and other factors involved,” she said.

  “I know, and I hate crap like that,” Cynthia replied. “It's why I'm more interested in being an engineer.”

  “And I pulled you out of your safe comfort zone. My heart bleeds,” Shelby mocked.

  “Hey,” Cynthia said, eyes flashing.

  “Hey yourself,” Shelby replied, smiling slightly. “I was pulled out of engineer to be an XO too you know.”

  “Are you saying you're grooming me for bigger and better things?” Cynthia accused, eyes narrowing in speculation.

  Shelby spread her hands apart but just smiled at her. After a moment, Cynthia relented with a snort.

  “You realize all the complications we're going to have with the Doras if you accept this deal, right?” Cynthia asked. “The smaller ships have problems with long jumps. They don't have the range. They also don't have the crew to support long shifts like that. Not bridge crew,” she said with a shake of her head. “They also don't have the A.I. support.”

  “Which we can rectify with a refit if necessary,” Shelby rebutted. Trollop was right though she knew; the range was a serious problem.

  “It's more than that. Multiple ships means more ships to cover. We'll need more escorts. And we'll need more personnel to man those same ships. Two, three ships for one? Does she realize that means each of those ships will need a full crew? What about that?”

  Shelby nodded slowly. “It means we're going to have to rethink the deployment and movement plan. Probably scrap every phase we've gotten into so far.” She scowled blackly as she thought about the problem. Just the jump from Airea 3 to the Tau sector was going to be rough. That jump between sectors was a very long jump; they were going to spend months in transit. And didn't she read something about the limited speed of the Dora class? Her frown intensified. “We … may have to stop along the way to orient and refuel,” she murmured. “Just keeping everyone together??” she shook her head and then sat back, staring at the bulkhead above.

  “We were already planning on splitting the convoy up into two parts,” Cynthia mused, crossing her arms. “The ansible carriers practically require it; they are just too damn slow. We don't want to have to plod at their speed. It is unnecessary,” she groused.

  “But we still need to assign escorts for them. And support ships since they are Doras and can't handle long jumps either,” Shelby grumbled.

  “I vote we break for other duties. I've got some calls coming in,” Cynthia said in the ensuing silence.

  “Okay. We'll discuss it after dinner. That'll give us time to consider the problem from more angles and see if anything can come together,” Shelby replied with a nod.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Cynthia said dubiously as she left the compartment.

  Shelby frowned and then pulled up the specs on the Dora class. Something told her she was going to have to compromise, so she'd better be ready and have ideas in mind to address problems as they came up …

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  “I've decided to roll with the punches,” Shelby said, opening the meeting. “That means we're going to accept the Doras … with some caveats of course. They'll have to be properly manned and fully loaded. I'm only accepting a few, I'm still holding out for at least six of the Liberties. They are also going to have all their maintenance issues handled before they leave port.”

  “That goes without saying, ma'am,” Cynthia said cautiously as she reorganized her thoughts from protest and denial to acceptance of her skipper's decision. “You said the G-1 offered you other ships, ma'am?”

  “Right. Which is my second thing; we're going to take them on as well. She thinks she's offering them to us as a favor; she doesn't realize exactly what she's offering. I intend to pull that string and watch it trip her up later.”

  “I see, ma'am. She'll thank you now but perhaps not in the future,” Cynthia warned. “Especially if she realizes you knew it would trip her up.”

  “I'll take my chances,” Shelby said as she tapped out an email. “There. Now, if I'm indisposed and she offers something else, don't turn anything down,” Shelby told her staff. “Gunships, frigates, corvettes—I know we need larger ships, but at this point, we'll take on anything. But no more trading. We're done with that. I'm not trading a cruiser for a couple frigates. Ain't gonna happen,” she said with a firm shake of her head.

  “Good to know,” Prometheus said with a nod. “The warships are just gravy then.”

  “Exactly. We'll gladly take them off her hands as something to sweeten the deal. But we'll do it reluctantly, of course, so she'll feel guilty.”

  “If she feels it at all over this,” Lieutenant JG Z'k'th'ss'th growled, mandibles working. Shelby's eyes cut to the Naga with a quelling look. He rolled a pair of eyes on his left side to her, then went back to looking at the hologram at the center of the table.

  The Naga was clearly not happy about being on board; he'd apparently wanted a warship posting, but he'd become more or less resigned to his posting after a couple days. She'd thought he had been warming to the idea, especially after he'd replayed their battle in Nightingale plus some of the tactical sims. Prometheus might be a support ship, but her teeth were very sharp.

  “Ma'am, a Dora can handle two moderate size jumps or a couple of short ones before she runs out of fuel. Some of these longer ones …,” Lieutenant JG L'n'v'll, the male Veraxin Ops officer warned, pulling up a star map.

  “We'll need tankers; yes, I know. We'll also need to figure out how to handle the long jumps. I don't like the idea of stopping halfway, but if we must than we must. We'll figure it out,” Shelby said.

  “We're getting what Eastern Front doesn't want—their leftovers,” Cynthia complained.

  “Like I said, don't turn it down, as far as the smaller ships,” Shelby smiled. It wasn't a particularly nice smile. “I reme
mbered something Admiral Irons did a while ago.”

  “Oh?” Cynthia asked warily. She turned to Oz, but the assistant engineer just shrugged indicating he didn't know either. All sets of eyes in the compartment turned to the skipper expectantly and warily.

  “Remember after the battle of B101a1? I was there on Firefly before I was transferred to a prize ship. What struck me then was the number of ships he took on. He didn't leave a single hull behind. Everything was taken. If it was too damaged, it was scrapped and used to rebuild the other ships. I found out later that after his force jumped to B100 omega, the admiral ordered the frigates to dock with Maine.”

  “Of course,” Cynthia said, sitting back as it hit her.

  “No, Admiral Irons did it to move the inexperienced personnel onto Maine to fill in her voids. He only had a skeleton crew on each ship, pulling them off the small ones helped thicken his ranks. Not a lot, but every little bit helps,” she said.

  Oz nodded. “It slowed the ships down in hyper, but they were taking it slow to begin with since they still had a lot of battle damage and a green crew anyway. But it also took some of the wear and tear off the small ships and their companies. It didn't save fuel of course …,” he grimaced and rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.

  “So, we take everything. Step down their drives, mothball the ships as remoras, secure them with lines if necessary, hell, we might even weld them on to the larger ships,” Cynthia said with a nod.

  “Exactly,” Shelby said with a nod in return. “As Oz pointed out, it'll slow us down in hyper and we'll have more platforms to man, but we'll be able to use them or mothball them until we need them.”

  “This is under the heading of rather have them than not, ma'am?” Oz asked, cocking his massive head.

  Shelby smiled in approval. “Exactly. We can build more yes, and they will slow us down in hyper. But if we've got to make stops along the way, we might as well haul everything including the kitchen sink with us. And make a note, remind me to ask about selling or trading some of the ships too,” she said.

  Lieutenant L'n'v'll blinked all four eyestalks in surprise. “Ma'am?”

  “You heard me. We can't be everywhere obviously. The gunships might work as local space patrol ships. They are sublight so they can't be used to attack other star systems. But we can trade them with say, civilian gear instead of milspec gear on board, to planets that need to curb piracy in their area.”

  “A militia unit. Military surplus. I know there are precedence and we're currently selling off some of the gunships to the planets in this sector anyway,” Lieutenant Z'k'th'ss'th said with a human-style nod. “It makes sense, ma'am. And if one or more star systems has some protection, it's one less star system we have to picket. We will still need to check on them though and a gunship isn't much against a larger pirate ship …,” the Naga mused.

  “One thing at a time. A deterrent and goodwill, I'll take whatever we can get.”

  “You know … that many small ships … we're going to need officers for each. That's a lot of officers … I don't think someone in Ops or BUPERS has thought this through,” Cynthia mused slowly. “And we're going to need logistics for each of those ships. We can make some of the parts, but we can't make hyperdrive components …”

  “It'll clear out some of the storage in logistics here,” Oz said with a nod. “A lot of that stuff is just sitting there.”

  “So they shouldn't complain when we take it on. But we're going to need places to stick it all. So, more Doras or something else …,” Shelby mused.

  “Exterior hull pods,” Cynthia said reluctantly. Oz grimaced darkly. The Veraxin didn't seem too happy either, Shelby noted. “I know; they obstruct the hull,” she said with a nod to Oz, “But it's the next best thing I can come up with as an alternative if the brass isn't willing to shake loose the hulls we'll need.”

  “Keep it in the suggestion pile, but we're going to neglect mentioning it when we talk to the brass,” Shelby said.

  “Good. Those things are a pain in the ass,” Oz grumbled.

  “So are the mountains of stuff we're going to be tripping over inside the ship,” Cynthia said. The Neogorilla eyed her. She shook her head. “You remember what we had going on our first trip?” He nodded slowly. “I know it was a pain in the ass to get to stuff then. We're going a hundred times further away for a whole lot longer. Space inside as well as outside is going to be at a premium.”

  “Great. We're going to look pretty shabby when we're done,” Oz complained.

  “Needs must,” Shelby said with a shrug. “Once we've got a base established in Tau, we'll unload. Until then though, don't overlook a single thing.”

  “We'll try not to, ma'am. But this would be a whole lot easier with a quartermaster to help,” Oz said.

  Shelby grimaced but then nodded at the dig.

  ]][#]]]{OO}===}==>

  One of the ongoing meetings was how to plan the mission's logistics. As the ships slotted in and personnel started to report on board, they started to get a better grip on the numbers and parts needed. Things were still a bit vague here and there, but things were improving to the point where they were starting to get shipments in and needed to sort out where to store it all.

  Taking on so many small ships complicated matters immensely. Shelby did her best to limit the ships to specific classes to simplify the logistics tail. Some parts she knew from experience were universal but not all unfortunately. She didn't need or want to have one or more ships hung up by a lack of a specific part or parts.

  Which was why they were requisitioning everything critical for every ship class and obviously multiples of each. Hence their current dilemma and meeting to solve it, Shelby thought as she eyed her XO thoughtfully. “This would be so much easier if they'd give us a quartermaster,” Cynthia griped. “But noooo,” she drawled mockingly. “BUPERS in its infinite wisdom can't cough one up.”

  “We'll make do. Once he or she is on board, we'll give them the plan and see what they can do,” Shelby replied absently as she flicked her hand as if it wasn't important.

  “It would be easier if they understood why we're doing it and if we didn't have so much damn competition. It's not like we're expecting to come back or get ongoing support. At least, not for a long time, possibly years,” Cynthia grumbled.

  “Which is why you are taking everything not nailed down,” Captain JG I'rll said humorously. The two human officers looked up to the Veraxin in surprise as she entered the compartment. “At ease,” she said as she scuttled into the room.

  “Nice, considering it's my ship and I outrank you,” Shelby said on the slight tart side.

  “Sorry, ma'am, force of habit,” the Veraxin replied. “You were saying?” she asked as she took a seat Cynthia pointed out to her. The seat morphed into a saddle to conform with her species. “I can't be here long. And if your head hunters come looking, I'm not here at all.”

  “Didn't want to attend virtually?” Cynthia asked, cracking a smile at that news.

  “You know, even I need time to stretch my legs and look around, see past the reports. See that what we're doing is more than pushing around items on a spreadsheet,” the Veraxin captain replied, seemingly sitting back and getting comfortable. Her upper arms hung loose while her truehands rested on the edge of the table.

  Cynthia nodded, pursing her lips in amusement.

  “You've been playing merry hell with requisitioning the smaller ships. I wondered why until I did some digging of my own. I know it's not right, and I'm here to say I'm going along with it despite what it is doing to my own schedules,” the Veraxin said. “I don't like what Ch'n'x is pulling on you.”

  “Thank you for that, Captain,” Shelby said with a quiet nod.

  “I'm also torn since I like the idea of clearing those ships out and putting them back to use. Even if just about all of them need an overhaul before we turn them loose,” the Veraxin stated. “You'd think the powers that be would have had them set up for that before they were mothballed so
they'd be ready for use, but apparently, they'd been in too much of a tearing hurry at the time,” she said, clearly aggrieved by the process.

  “Understood. Tell your yard dogs that we appreciate what they are doing for us,” Cynthia murmured.

  “We engineers have to look after each other it seems,” the Veraxin said. She swiveled her eyestalks to the human captain. “You were saying? Something about resources?”

  Shelby nodded. “I have some keys but not all of them obviously. So, we have to stock up on components we can't replace or field repair easily,” she said.

  “I know. I intercepted a snarky missive from Barry earlier this morning,” the Veraxin said. “You got something of a key upgrade, but I know from personal experience that engineers with a captain's rank don't have hyperdrives in their key list. It sucks,” the Veraxin said. “That's the reasoning I laid out to Barry. He's also heard about the Lemnos club so he's in agreement and will offer limited support for your midnight requisitions,” the bug informed them.

  “Good to know,” Shelby murmured thoughtfully.

  “We can make some parts on the way, but we need resources,” Cynthia said, picking up where they'd left off. “I'd like a modest stockpile of everything we'll need once we get the base set up.”

  “Good,” the Veraxin said quietly. “I can give you some files, some ideas on how to set up the base's shipyard infrastructure and a few things I've learned about how to manage it,” she said.

  “Thank you, ma'am,” Cynthia said. “Since I'm most likely going to be stuck running some of that, I'll gladly accept them,” she said with a polite nod.

  “You always were one of my brighter students,” the Veraxin replied, indicating first-level amusement. Cynthia cracked a smile and nodded again at the verbal dig.

  “Okay, so, we're looking at gathering resources through mining obviously, which is where the diplomats come in. We'll have to secure permission to mine from the locals, even though they may not do it themselves.”

  “Explaining to them can be time consuming,” Shelby agreed with a shake of her head. “And don't get me started on negotiating their cut once they wake up to the fact that we're legit and will indeed share with them the proceeds. You can see the greed just build and build in their eyes in seconds when that occurs.”