by Chris Hechtl
“First off, ma'am, we've confirmed that the enemy commander is named Vice Admiral Leonidas Ishmael. The Ishmael. The same person who commanded the last expedition to Tau from Horath,” the ensign said as she keyed up the holographic projector. The lights dimmed as the device warmed up and projected a captured data file.
“If this is true, he's been in harness for over a century and a half. That is a lot of experience to accrue if it is true. Then there is this,” she said, showing them a video transmission. Shelby gasped at the sight before her. Fara nodded soberly. “This is from Echo Six, the colony in the inner belt. Our people picked it up when they rebuilt each of the colonies. I've had processors going through everything; we got the first sniff yesterday afternoon. Boni and Lieutenant Prometheus finally had the spare processors to discover the rest of the transmission file in our archives,” she reported.
Before them was the 2D image of a pirate admiral. But no ordinary admiral, he was an African Neolion, an impressive specimen of cat in his prime.
“He's a Neolion. That's now confirmed,” Shelby said carefully.
“Yes, ma’am it has,” Boni stated. “We have other transmission fragments in memory that we pieced together,” the A.I. said from the overhead as she took up the narrative. She played the clips. Most of it had no audio and the picture quality was horrible. But they'd gotten enough from good frames to create a composite file.
“This be Vice Admiral Ishmael, yon …,” the audio cut out after that.
“Based on the scattered snatches of speech we have of him, he speaks like an ancient Terran Caribbean pirate. I don't know why,” Boni reported.
Shelby bit her lip. It suggested a way of attack, an unconventional one to her. “Get me the pirate rules,” she ordered.
“Ma'am?” the ensign asked, blinking at her in confusion.
“The pirate code. The one they supposedly go by. There might be an opportunity to drive a wedge in their ranks here. If anything, it should sow some doubt …” Shelby mused out loud. “I'm going to need you to dredge up some other files Fara, some video material that shouldn't hopefully be too hard for you to find. I'll need you and Boni to put together a media presentation for an unlikely audience …”
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Ensign Pan had to scramble to get to his promotion ceremony on time. He managed to arrive outside the wardroom still sealing up his shirt. Ensign Brudbaker snorted and helped him adjust his jacket and then gave him a once over. He made a minor adjustment to the Neochimp's insignia then nodded.
Ham did the same thing for his buddy, finding only a minor hair on his uniform he flicked off.
“Good?” Bruddy asked.
“Yup,” Ham said just as he noted the camera crew coming into the room from the other end of the corridor. “What the … I thought they were on the government station? Why …? This is making the ne …?”
“Better get in there,” Miss Jurgens the producer said cutting him off, as she nodded her chin to the door.
Bruddy didn't need any more invitation, he scooted through the door. Ham was the last one through the hatch. “All hands accounted for, ma'am,” Lieutenant Prometheus said.
“Good,” Commodore Logan replied with a nod to Ensign Pan as he took his place in line next to Bruddy. “Now that we're all here …,” she paused to give him a mildly scolding look. He'd matured enough to not look abashed and embarrassed. “ …We can begin. Raise your right appendage. I, your name, do solemnly …”
Once they went through the ceremony and each of the ensigns had their shiny new lieutenant bar, Shelby smiled to them. “This was a bit overdue. That's on me, I hate paperwork,” she said, eyes crinkling a bit in humor. “That and I like to see you sweat,” she said. That earned a polite smile from the group.
“Some of you will be taking over here. Others will be moving on to other commands. You've all done good work here, and I'm proud to have served with you,” she said. “You've got a whopping hour for lunch to go celebrate, then everyone gets back to work,” she said.
The group of newly promoted officers nodded once. The small assembly applauded. “Go on then folks, we've got another group to do put through this today,” Shelby said. She turned to Miss Trejo. “Are you streaming this?” she asked. The reporter shook her head. “Well, that's a relief. I was worried I'd stick my foot further in my mouth than need be,” she said.
That earned another round of polite smiles as the men and women filed out. In the corridor, the current crop of junior grade lieutenants was lined up. They exchanged handshakes in passing.
“Lieutenant's L'n'v'll, Talon, Black one and Black two …” Lieutenant Prometheus said calling the officers into the compartment for their turn.
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“A paperwork problem? Really, Shelby?” Boni asked. “You know between Lieutenant Prometheus, myself, and yeoman ….” Shelby waved an impatient hand to cut the protest off. “I'm just saying, the paperwork has been ready.”
“I know. I honestly let it slide too long. My bad. I didn't want to shake up command teams,” Shelby said.
“But you are willing to do so now? When we're on the eve of a possible battle?”
“First, they deserved it and holding them back further was a disservice to them and to their careers. Second, they'll have time to settle in. Many like Lieutenant Pan have served as understudies for the final position for some time.”
“And have been serving in the actual role since the officer who normally held it was off doing other work,” Boni agreed.
“Right,” Shelby said. “This just makes it official,” she said with a nod.
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Blitzen's return to the capital let them know they were almost out of time. The defenses of the jump point and picket gave the little courier ship a reason to pause. Most of the warships and defenses in the star system were now around the jump point Captain Z'll noted. There was a virtual curved wall of defenses between the inner star system and the jump point, the captain thought in grim approval.
Once clear of the defensive zone, he located and transmitted his log to the flagship, then transmitted that he had sensor and tactical recordings from Zeng He for the navy to process.
That earned the instant interest of the commodore. “What are you talking about?” she demanded, interrupting the Veraxin's report to Cynthia. “Tactical?”
“They set loose most of their weapon pods, ma'am, I thought you knew,” the Veraxin replied carefully.
“I knew they were going to draw blood. You are saying they remained behind to watch?”
“Yes, ma’am. Captain Zeb said he was going to hit them and then jump out after they did,” the puzzled Veraxin replied.
Shelby worked her jaw from side to side for a moment. “He did, did he. I see he … never mind,” she said, cutting herself off. “Have the tactical recordings downloaded to a chip and then bring them over. We'll need to process them fast.”
“Aye aye, ma’am.”
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Zeng He returned to capital, making good time in the high octaves of Gamma band. Her arrival a day after Blitzen's briefly scared the defenders until they got a look at her and received her broadcast IFF.
Captain Zeb broadcast his log to the flagship as well as his estimation that he had a good three-week lead on the enemy ships.
Shelby read the log and pursed her lips when she got to the part about the ambush. Zeb had pushed his orders, but he'd done the job. He hadn't scored a kill, but he had drawn first blood. She made certain to distribute that information immediately through Boni. She wanted everyone to know to help give morale a much-needed kick upwards.
“I'm glad you scored, though I wish you hadn't taken the risk. But you did blood them. Good work,” Shelby said as the light cruiser made her way through the defenses to Prometheus.
“Yes, ma’am,” Captain Zeb replied. “We did more than just blood them. Right up until the platforms were destroyed they were beaming back the information th
ey were picking up from their sensors and computers. I also have Zeng He's own passive observations to add to that. Lieutenant Sore Tooth's computers have been working overtime to correlate and process it all,” he said.
Shelby nodded once. Getting a look at the enemy's fire control, sensors, and other electronic information, not to mention their reactions was priceless information, even if it was only a few seconds’ worth. At this point she'd take anything she could get she reminded herself. “We'll talk about your choice in targets later. For the moment, download your logs and get your ship reprovisioned pronto,” the commodore ordered.
“Aye aye, ma’am,” Captain Zeb replied dutifully.
“And Captain, damn good work,” she said.
“Thank you, ma'am. We aim to please,” he replied smugly.
“Well, I don't know about aim, but you did hit them,” Shelby replied dryly.
“Droll, very droll, ma'am,” her former XO replied.
Chapter 45
Tau-1252 Capital
Fifteen warships and five support ships of the Horathian Gather fleet jumped into the star system, announcing their sudden unwelcome presence in a soundless explosion of energy.
As the energy discharge began to die off, Captain Kix Baker wondered if this would be it, if this was where the enemy had set up shop. They would know in a few minutes as the energy pulse raced out and away from their ships.
Admiral Ishmael had issued a change in formation two days before they had exited hyperspace. The destroyers and cruisers were in the lead; Black Death was behind them with the five support ships bringing up the rear.
The admiral had ordered another change too; they were coming out early well short of the usual center of the jump point. That way it would give them time to react and recover if necessary and throw any defenders off balance.
If there were any. He had his doubts … but also knew he could be wrong. “Two minutes to jump exit,” the helmsman warned.
“Wake them up and let them know,” the captain said, turning to the rating manning the communication's station.
The communication's rating nodded once. “All stations prep for hyperspace emergence. All stations, prep for hyperspace emergence.”
The admiral strode onto the bridge wearing his skin suit under his usual attire. “All stations, battle stations,” he rumbled.
The captain turned to the admiral then nodded once.
“All hands, battle stations. All hands, battle stations,” the rating barked over the intercom.
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Captain Fowler saw the incoming massive hyper jump and immediately issued an alert to the other ships as her own Shrill Kill raced to battle stations. Her ship had been on rotation as the alert ship, but she knew that wouldn't last for more than a moment or two longer.
She was heartily glad that the yard had gotten her ship fixed, but she was depressingly certain that too many ships would need the yard's services soon. Those that survived, she thought with a small corner of her mind.
She didn't like what she saw. Someone had wised up on the other side; they'd jumped well short of the center of the jump zone and therefore the kill box. They would still have some momentum bleeding over from crossing the hyperspace wall back into real space, but they would have much more time to react and possibly avoid the defenses laid out for them.
“Frack, we are in it deep,” the helm rating muttered as other personnel from the different shifts came onto the bridge to swap with them so they too could suit up.
“I don't want to be anywhere else but here,” the captain murmured.
“We've got twenty tango ships, ma'am. No IFF yet. Not that we expected any, their number is consistent with the enemy sightings. CIC is still breaking them down as the energy pulse fades,” Tactical reported.
“Understood,” Captain Fowler said. “Spot the birds.”
“Zeng He has taken control, ma'am,” the comm noncom reported.
“Understood,” Koko said, forcing herself to relax briefly before she lunged out of her chair. “I'm going to suit up,” she said, meeting a robot carrying her suit. She took it and then ducked into her office to change.
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Janice Yu rushed onto her cruiser's bridge and flopped down in the hot seat. Her hair was still wet from her shower, but she was the one in command of Alpha force, she'd been getting information through her implants as she had hastily dried off and dressed. She saw the formation as the energy pulse dissipated and its location. Her crew had already sent out the warning to the rest of the naval forces in the star system. As she spot-checked them she noted that they had put the unmanned weapons and mines on alert and her tactical department was in the process of spot-checking the weapon platforms for any problems.
None of the ships were in the engagement zone yet. She shook her head. Apparently, Zeng He's gambit of slowing them down had worked, but only to a degree. They were definitely coming in smart with blood in their eye.
“Comm, raise the flagship,” she ordered. “Tactical, make sure you get a good lock on those ships. I want all platforms loaded and ready to go,” she said as she turned to her number 3 repeater as it blinked to life with Prometheus' crest and then the commodore's familiar soothing presence.
“Aye ma'am, all weapons are ready to go,” her TO replied but she only heard him with half an ear as she turned her attention to the commodore.
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Boni received the alert and noted it was terrible timing for the commodore; the woman had just gotten to sleep two hours prior after working five shifts in a row. But there was no way she could allow the commodore to sleep in. The alert klaxon seemed to barely penetrate the woman's REM state so she applied electrical jolts to her pain centers in increasing dosages to wake her. When that didn't work, she switched to triggering the woman's sacral nerves in her pelvis and bladder. That would send a signal to the woman's organic brain that her bladder was full, forcing her body to waken under the guarding reflex.
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Shelby felt her bladder wake her painfully and groaned. The klaxon and Boni's prodding finally got the alert through her sleeping brain and she finished waking with a start. “What the hell?” she demanded, hands going to her abused abdomen.
“Sorry, ma'am but you wouldn't wake,” Boni said apologetically as she released an analgesic to help soothe the pain.
“I gotta pee. What is the situation?” Shelby demanded, swinging her legs out from under the covers to the cold deck. That helped wake her as much as the pain did as she staggered to the head to relieve herself.
“Shrill Kill sounded the alert. Twenty ships have just jumped into the outer edge of the Tau-1929 jump zone. They are well outside the kill box but drifting in to it at 1KPS.
“Battle Stations! All hands, this is not a drill! Battle Stations!” Cynthia's rough voice echoed through the ship, making Shelby wince as she finished up and then wiped. “I'll suit up. Get me a running SITREP,” she ordered.
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Shelby arrived on the bridge five minutes later. She had stationed Prometheus ten million kilometers outside of the inner edge of the Tau-1929 jump zone to allow the factory ship to provide finished materials to the jump point defenses. Tugs had staged raw material to the factory ship. Several tugs were on final approach with raw materials as well as processed material from the factories in the inner star system.
One set of automated tugs had just started to move a finished weapon drone out, Shelby noted as she checked the ship's status report once more. Most likely even while the battle raged the tugs would continue to come and go … just as the people manned the factories during many battles including the battle of Stalingrad during World War II.
Her forces were split into four groups. Janice had command as senior officer of the picket force immediately on the jump point. She had her light cruiser Admiral Zlanka, the other four light cruisers, as well as the heavy cruisers Strike from the Dark, Haguro, the destroyers
Knife Dancer, Slash and Tear, the four corvettes, and five frigates, one of them the newest sublight frigate.
Prometheus had the remaining two heavy cruisers Pensacola, Bite and Sting, as well as Admiral Sprague, the four remaining destroyers, the sixteen gunships, and her fleet of automated and manned tugs.
There was a third force consisting of ME Mahoney and the munitions collier further out, waiting patiently. Beyond them were the various tugs, tenders, as well as the three remaining sublight frigates manning the other jump points.
The fact that the enemy force had jumped short meant they were initially out of range of her weapons and therefore could and probably would recover. As she arrived on the bridge, she noted in approval that Cynthia had sent out the warning to the star system. Tugs and freighters en route to the picket force changed their course away from the hostilities.
As Commodore, Shelby had ultimate command of the battle and would use Prometheus as her flagship and Command and Control of her forces. She probably should have taken up station on one of the heavy cruisers. Each of the heavy cruisers had a small but proper flag bridge she knew. However, she'd been using her keys so much to build equipment it had made sense for her to remain on Prometheus. She had time to shift her flag but didn't want to do so.
Instead, she took the hot seat Cynthia vacated without so much of a smile. Once she was settled, she stared at the plot again. Twenty starships appeared on her plot. Twenty unwanted hostile starships, far more than the two destroyers, four corvettes, five frigates, five light cruisers, and two heavy cruisers Janice had in the picket force.
“Janice,” she said with a nod to the woman's image.
“Ma'am,” Janice replied after a half second delay.
Shelby blinked as something warm was put into her hand. She looked up and then smiled her thanks as her fingers curled around the hot steaming cup of coffee. “Keep 'em coming,” she ordered as she took a cautious sip. It was as thick as motor oil and a bit scalding to her tongue and mouth but it helped wipe away some of the cobwebs and sluggishness crowding her mind and body.