He did lose a hand, though no one could tell, unless he did something with it that a normal Leethog couldn’t do, like crush something, or open it up and reveal the power cell running it, or the backup in his forearm. The bionic forearm and hand enabled him to fly a ship. Of course, he was the commander, so he wouldn’t be flying anytime soon.
“I cannot believe we have been promoted,” Stan said.
“The commodore said we deserved it,” Hank replied. “We are ship commanders and…we have stayed out of trouble.”
“Yes,” Stan agreed nodding his head as was the Leethog fashion. “To be honest, that is something I really cannot believe. How did we do that, anyway?”
“They have kept us busy,” Hank surmised. “We did not have time to find something fun to do. We had to work on the stealth shuttle and the new mech designs. Ensuring your refurbished ship could handle the new engines and thrusters was time consuming. I am glad Mike and Mike let us be a part of the team, though now that I think about it, I think our mates had something to do with that.”
“They were probably the ones suggesting if we were kept busy, we would stay out of trouble,” Stan added.
“Probably,” Hank agreed. “For that, when we get back, we must find something to get into or build. We have a reputation to uphold, you know.”
“I know!” Stan exclaimed, standing up. “We can call Cameron and ask him for suggestions. He always has the best ideas.”
“Yeah,” agreed Hank with a grin and a nod, “or we can ask Bradford what he needs help with. If we do, Tim, Petey, and every Smilp on the Cube will help. We have to steer clear of our mates. They might have something to say about it.”
“True,” agreed his brother. “Well, it is almost time to leave our system. When we come through, remember to roll with me as we break away. Don’t let your ship get too close. We have to remember we have missile boxes attached. For a little while, anyway.”
“For a while,” agreed Hank. “When we get in system and latch on to Sweet Pea, it won’t be long after that.”
Stan watched the main screen go blank. He turned to his pilot, “Nortontilmotal, you may increase speed and position us above Hold My Drink.”
“Yes, sir,” answered the young ensign.
He cracked his fingers, rolled his neck one time, and rolled the missile frigate up over Hank’s ship. Stan nodded in appreciation. It was a maneuver he would have performed himself. His new pilot would work out nicely. It was nice to work with family again.
* * *
Bridge
Salvage Title
“Alright,” Harmon said as he stared ahead, sitting back in his command chair. He looked out into an imagined distance. His voice and image was carried throughout the entire fleet. Those not near a screen listened from wherever their assignment or posting was. Ships large and small, troop bays, even those in training on the planet Salvage listened. Many could understand Earth Common; for others, the translators in their earpieces handled it.
“Once again we’re leaving Salvage System to go right a wrong,” he continued. “Seems like that’s kind of our thing. Not that it’s a bad one to have. The bigger we get, the more it happens. Our system is growing at a ridiculous pace, as is our fleet. You, all of you…have my thanks. The fact that you’re all volunteers in the missions we take on means more than you could ever know.
“Everyone in the fleet received the message; you could have suspended your contract or opted out, since once again I’ve decided to do something other than defend Salvage System. I know it was an unusual message to receive, especially to those of you with experience in other fleets, other systems. Not one of you took the option, and I am truly humbled. I mean, we’re not a mercenary company per se, though it seems we’re becoming a mercenary system of sorts. Again, I don’t think that’s a bad thing, because I’m extremely picky about what missions we take on.
“We will win the fight. Our ships are a mixture of old and new with some devastating weaponry, our intelligence gathering capabilities are unrivaled, and, without a doubt, we are comprised of the best crew members, Marines, and troops anywhere in the galaxy. Personally, I think it’s because of the diversity and experience all races have to offer.”
Harmon paused a moment before continuing. “I’m not going to try and downplay what we’re about to do. We’re going into a well-defended system with a substantial force embedded on the surface of the planet. It’s not going to be easy. Some of us won’t come home. I wish that weren’t the case, but it’s the nature of the profession that calls to us all. We’re fighters. All of us, whether you’re a member of the Fleet, a Marine, Ground Forces, or one of the Bolts. You’re a fighter, and you fight for what’s right.
“Right. Such a simple word. What is right? Right is defending you and yours. Right is ensuring those we care about are safe. Right is caring that others—beings we have never met—are safe. I could go on and on, but I think each of you know what right means. There are many, many wrongs in this galaxy. It’s huge; of course there are. But occasionally there comes the opportunity to right a wrong. When that happens, I act. When I act, that means I need you to act, because I cannot do it alone, and you don’t hesitate to step up beside me when I do. Again, thank you for that.
“In a few moments, Ensign Bahroot will leave to scout ahead in the Nazrooth System, so we can plan a surprise or two. We’ll follow an hour later. Captain Bentalt and his force will defend the system so we have a home to come back to. We’re as prepared as we can be, so let’s do this. We can’t save the galaxy, but we can save a system.”
* * * * *
Chapter Fourteen
Scout Ship
Nazrooth System
For a brief instant, the swirling opaque coloring of alter reality could be seen in the huge Bith Gate. Then there was nothing but the stars in the background shining through. It wasn’t a gate malfunction. The small stealth shuttle came through moving incredibly fast. The scout’s engine and thrusters weren’t the same type originally designed for the prototype. They were much more powerful. The ship had very limited environmental systems, so the power normally reserved to them was redirected to the engines. It was a speed no living being could tolerate. For Bahroot, it was irrelevant; after all, he was not organic. The AI’s cube was securely mounted in a console in the center of the ship with multiple backup power sources.
The special radar-absorbing, emission-shielding armor and paint, along with the scrambling electronics, made the craft nearly impossible to detect. For a ship’s sensors to detect it would take the latest surveillance systems in one of the most advanced systems in the galaxy, with a very good tactical officer operating them. They would also need advance notice of where to look. Fortunately for the young AI, the Bleeve had neither, a fact he was counting on when he’d received his instructions from his Uncle Harmon.
Bahroot immediately banked at even higher G-forces and moved away from and behind the six ships flying in formation in high gate guard, going in the direction they came from, knowing the pattern they were using would take them two hours if they noticed him to slow down and come back. It was plenty of time to move to his designated section of the Nazrooth System, which was close enough to provide intelligence, guide the two mine-laying shuttles remotely, and stay away from danger. As soon as Cameron’s ship Sweet Pea came through, he would detach them from its hull and lay the mines in the area Harmon needed them.
With ridiculous speed, Bahroot tapped into the Bith gate, blocked all communications going out through the Galaxy Network, and used its sensors and cameras to update the information he already had. Satisfied with the updates on the Bleeve fleet, he prepared a package to send fleet wide once they arrived. He built a more detailed brief for the commodore.
* * *
Screaming Fate
High Guard
Nazrooth System
“What do you mean you don’t know if there was an emergence?” demanded Captain Raylortah. She was furious at her tactical officer.
“I am sorry, my Captain,” he pleaded, ducking his head and raising his front two limbs, “I cannot be sure. The sensors picked up nothing.”
“Comms,” she demanded. “Do your sensors pick up anything?”
“No, Captain,” the communications officer replied as he adjusted and fine-tuned his system.
“The sensors indicated the gate opened for the briefest of instances, but no ship came through,” Raylortah mused out loud. She turned back to her tactical officer. “Put it in the report, and we will let the admiral decide if he wishes to contact the gatekeepers and schedule a check. Hold it with the rest until we send the next scheduled report. There is no reason to concern the admiral if there was no emergence.”
Raylortah settled back down on her command dais and checked the screen beside her. The other ships in her task force were in their designated positions for the formation, except one of the destroyers. She quickly typed a message to correct the alignment and made a mental note to speak to the commander of the ship when their rotation was complete. After a few minutes, all were the proper distance from her ship, a heavy battlecruiser. They were ready should a fleet enter looking to take the system from them. From the queen, she corrected herself. Glory to the queen.
* * *
The Reckoning
Task Force Bravo
Less than an hour later, the center of the gate shimmered, and alter reality was exposed for much longer, as the first eleven ships of Salvage Fleet came through and banked toward starboard. Leading the charge was the restored Belvakette heavy battlecruiser The Reckoning. Before Task Force Bravo moved to form up, Captain Ellota knew the information Bahroot had supplied about the gate guard’s pattern and formation was correct. The six Bleeve ships were moving away and nearing their turning point. Sensors indicated they were moving slowly.
A new information packet was received as the task force finished moving into position. They were already moving at near battle speed, and once the ships were in final position, it would increase. Concerned with the action looming, Captain Ellota ignored the rest of Salvage Fleet as the other task forces came through one after another. The ships behind them barely gave the gate a chance to close its connection to alter reality as they headed straight toward the center of the Nazrooth System and the other fifty-four warships occupying it.
As he quickly finished reading the updated report, looking for any obvious changes, he glanced up at the main screen and could see on the display the symbols for the two task forces in the Kashkal Fleet almost catching his as they came through, moving faster than his ships could ever hope to. The Kashkal race could handle more G-forces than all the different races among his crew members. The symbols for them started separating, and he knew they were on course to head around a large planet to swing in toward the Bleeve’s flank as they headed toward the gate to meet Salvage Fleet. It was one of Commodore Tomeral’s favorite tactics. Rick Kashka, the leader of the Kashkal, particularly liked the boost of speed his fleet received as it performed the slingshot maneuver around a planet.
“Lieutenant Kalenoot,” Captain Ellota said, “tell me what you got.”
“Sir,” the huge Yalteen answered, “the gate guard has six ships as we were briefed. A heavy battlecruiser, two light battlecruisers, two destroyers, and a frigate.” After a moment he added, “Sir, one of the light battlecruisers is showing all the signs of a medium missile carrier. It looks like they hid that until their offensive systems came online.”
Ellotta slammed his hand down on the armrest. “Not even five minutes in, and the plan changes! I was afraid of that. With their missiles, that moves that ship up on the priority list, right up there with the heavy.”
He reached over and pushed the button on his comms. “Ok, Bravo, change in plans. I want all three destroyers out in front of the Jab Hand. First punch from all five of you is aimed at the missile carrier Kalenoot designates. Triple D, your entire first salvo needs to be scramblers. After that, fire normal missiles. We’ll swing haymakers at the enemy’s heavy. Any questions?”
The other ten captains in Task Force Bravo knew exactly what his plan was, and they were ready to comply. The three destroyers moved in front of the five light battlecruisers, prepared to fire anti-missile missiles, some of the shotgun missiles that had been installed, and use their defensive lasers. The five light battlecruisers locked in on the potentially devastating missile carrier, leaving the task force’s three heavy battlecruisers the job of wiping out the Bleeve heavy battlecruiser at the onset. The other ships they would deal with after the first couple of salvos.
“The Bleeve have completed turnover, are gaining speed, and have moved into an offset wedge formation, sir,” called the tactical officer. He reached up with a big blue hand and adjusted one of his screens to show two images. “From what I can see, several of the other Bleeve formations farther in system have turned and are moving to meet the rest of the fleet. We will be in range in less than an hour.”
Fifty-seven minutes later, the first missiles launched. At nearly the same time, the Bleeve launched their first salvo. The fight to save the system had begun.
* * *
Devastation
“Sir,” announced Vice Admiral Ashlah from his ship commander’s dais, “we have confirmed the report from the gate guard. Seventy-one warships have entered the system. Eleven have turned to take on the guard, and twenty-five are veering off. The rest are inbound and headed directly toward Nazrooth.”
“Put it on the main screen,” ordered Admiral Gorligthah. He stood up on his platform behind and above the bridge. Placing several sensor relays between the space port and the gate was paying off. Not only did it speed the communications time, it aided in using the dreadnaught’s sensors. It wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t as if they could use the gate itself to do it.
“There,” Gorligthah said, pointing. “Zoom in on the twenty-five veering away. Can you calculate their destination?”
After a minute, the tactical officer turned and looked up. “Sir, those ships are headed straight to Zynalt. I don’t understand why, but I checked the calculations twice. Unless they alter their path, they are headed straight for that planet. There is nothing there. No spaceport, ships, or platforms…nothing. The atmosphere on the planet will not sustain life. It is too violent. It is one big storm swirling the entire surface of the planet.”
Admiral Gorligthah asked him to enlarge what he was looking at. He stared at the image of the red and gray planet. A huge gray mass could be seen as it darkened from one side to the other, creating a mass of near black. Something was there, hovering on the edge of his memory, swirling like those clouds. Suddenly he sprang from the platform. He knew what the enemy was planning.
“Get me Task Forces Eight, Nine, and Ten, now!” he shouted. “Put them on the main screen!”
“Yes, sir,” answered a confused communications officer.
One by one, the image of three Bleeve captains appeared on the screen. Gorligthah could see their busy bridges in operation behind them. Knowing it was a conference video call, none of them spoke, awaiting instructions from the fleet commander.
“There is a force of twenty-five ships headed to Zynalt,” the admiral informed them. “Their commander intends to use the planet’s gravitational pull to attack our fleet in its flank. You three will lead your task forces at maximum speed to the planet and use the gravitational field to do it first. I want you to come around that planet and meet them head on. You are closer to the planet and will reach it first, even at the great speed they are moving. Under no circumstances will you allow them to hit our flank. None.
“Those ships are the Kashkal ships, and they have used the tactic before. You have all seen the video. It will not happen here. Captain Ainoklah, you will come around that planet last and swing wider than Task Force Eight and Nine. Get some separation and hit them at an angle. They will have to separate to prevent a flank attack. This may allow you all to get close enough to use the main laser as well a
s missiles. Do not fail.”
“Yes, Admiral!” they answered in unison.
“The rest of us will fight their main force head on,” Gorligthah said with determined look. “Once you have destroyed the Kashkal, continue around and annihilate any of their ships attempting to retreat. Are there any questions? No? Good. You have your orders. Glory to the queen!”
The three captains answered the same nearly as enthusiastically as everyone on the bridge near the admiral. After the screen went blank, he turned to the vice admiral. “Get me the calculations and time frames of the upcoming battle. I have an idea. And keep me informed on the fight at the gate.”
* * *
An Hour Earlier
Screaming Fate
Gate Guard
“Captain!” shouted the tactical officer, who in his excitement and surprise rose up on all eight legs, blocking what he was seeing from his commander. “There has been an emergence. I count eleven ships, and they are turning…seven more, now eleven more! Ma’am, ships keep coming!”
“Put it on the main screen, now!” she demanded, rising up and stepping down off her dais. “Comms, inform the task force. Helm, maximum thrust, get us to war speed…and make sure everything is relayed to the admiral.”
“Ma’am,” said the tactical officer, calmer now. “Seventy-one ships have entered in six formations. One group of twenty-five ships has veered off and is headed toward the planet Zynalt. Sir…they have more ships than we do, and the sensors indicate they are from Salvage System.”
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