Stories of the Confederated Star Systems

by Jones, Loren K.

  Stories of the Confederated Star Systems

  By Loren K. Jones

  Twilight Times Books

  Kingsport Tennessee

  Stories of the Confederated Star Systems

  This is a work of fiction. All concepts, characters and events portrayed in this book are used fictitiously and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2016 by Loren K. Jones. Expanded and revised from a previous electronic edition published by e-Quill Publishing, Brisbane, Australia 2012 with title “Confederated Star Systems Collection.”

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, except brief extracts for the purpose of review, without the permission of the publisher and copyright owner.

  Twilight Times Books

  P O Box 3340

  Kingsport, TN 37664

  www.twilighttimesbooks.com/

  Revised Electronic Edition: April 2016. Author’s preferred version.

  Published in the United States of America

  Table of Contents

  First in Her Class

  Leave Nothing to Chance

  Kachina

  Rescue Mission

  Minerva

  Seeker

  Szekely

  Stinking Potemkin

  Long Haul Shipping

  Preview: Inadvertent Adventures Prelude

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  These first four stories, like many others I’ve written, were written for submission to Jim Baen’s Universe online magazine. I was trying for a serialized story line, but never made it. The third story, “Kachina,” was actually the first one written.

  First in Her Class

  “WHAT IN GOD’S NAME IS THAT?” a woman’s voice asked in the darkened observation lounge of Grissom Station. Outside, floating by under tow of a CSS Navy tug, was a ship of such antiquity that it would have looked more appropriate in a museum than a Naval Shipyard—unless, of course, it was there to be scrapped.

  “That, my good Captain Reordan, is the CSS Edward White, CGH-14,” a man’s voice answered.

  “CGH-14?” Captain Reordan asked. “My Lord, that ship has to be three hundred years old.”

  “Three hundred twenty-one, as dated from her commissioning,” the man answered. The lights came up to reveal the speakers. Captain Reordan was an attractive woman with light brown hair and hazel eyes. The man she had addressed as “My Lord” was much older. Tall and slender, he gave the impression of a dancer turned actor. That was almost accurate. Lord Devero Kenyon was an admiral turned politician, and the current First Lord of the Admiralty, a position that required a great deal of dancing on occasion.

  “That is my new command, sir?” Captain Reordan asked in a crushed tone.

  “Don’t take it so hard, Erica,” Lord Kenyon said in a warm tone. “She’s far more than she appears.”

  “Sir?”

  “Erica, what I’m about to reveal is so highly classified that you have to have a top secret security clearance just to know the name of its classification. It’s well beyond Ultra Q.” He paused as the captain’s eyes widened. “You, as her new captain, have been given clearance by the classifying authority to know everything. You will be the thirty-sixth person informed, outside the original crew and the crew who rescued them.” He waited until Captain Reordan nodded again before continuing.

  “Some three hundred years ago the White was testing a new drive configuration. She vanished with all hands, and wasn’t heard from until just under a year ago. That’s when she reappeared. Intact. With all hands.”

  “How is that possible, Sir?”

  Lord Kenyon tilted his head to the side. “The new drive didn’t move them through space, Erica. It moved them through time.”

  Captain Reordan looked him straight in the eye and said, “That’s impossible, sir.”

  “Until I reviewed their logs I would have agreed with you. It seems that the designers made one too many modifications to the Johansen Coil configuration. The White was thrown three hundred years into the future. Into our here and now.”

  Captain Reordan shook her head and paced in a circle around the empty lounge. “What’s going to happen to them? Are they going back?”

  “No.” Now the admiral frowned and shook his head. “No, Erica, we can’t allow that. They were rescued and at first detained aboard the Roger B. Chaffee, but not sequestered. The crew was given full access to the ship, except the control and engineering spaces. Unfortunately, they were not kept from using the ship’s library. They know far too much about the past three hundred years, their future, to allow them to return to their own era.”

  “Sir!”

  “I know, Erica. God, do I know. But they cannot be allowed to go back and make any changes to our past. The White was listed as missing and presumed lost one year after she disappeared. There’s even a memorial to them. And that’s how things have to remain.”

  Captain Reordan shook her head and whispered, “That’s horrible.”

  “It is indeed. There were six hundred thirty-seven men and women on that ship. They were all sailors in the newly formed Confederated Star Systems Space Navy. They are in a very real sense the ancestors of every man and woman who wears our uniform.”

  “So what’s going to happen to them, Sir?”

  The admiral chuckled and gave her a lopsided grin. “They have each been given three hundred years of back pay and retired with full benefits. Each has been forced, and there is no better term for it, to sign an official secrecy oath, under penalty of imprisonment if they disclose anything about their origins. Then they were scattered to the far corners of the Confederacy, and given new identities. Their part in this story is at an end. The crew of the Chaffee was made to sign the secrecy oath and disbursed throughout the fleet. You’ll be getting a fair sampling of them as your new crew.”

  “So what am I supposed to do with the White, Sir?”

  Now Admiral Kenyon turned to clasp Captain Reordan by the shoulders. “Erica, we’ve renamed her the Herbert George Wells, TCH-1. You’re going to refit her as the first in her class. The engineers have figured out how the time-drive works, to some extent at least. Enough that a test-run made an accurate jump of one year into the past, then back again.”

  “Herbert George Wells. And TCH-1. There’s some significance to that name, Sir, but I can’t place it.”

  Admiral Kenyon chuckled. “Indeed there is, Erica. TCH stands for Temporal Cruiser, Hyper-capable. And H.G. Wells wrote a book called The Time Machine.”

  *

  The old ship with the fresh new name painted on her nose was all but completely concealed in an orbital dry-dock that was meant to hold a modern-day heavy cruiser. She was receiving a complete refit-except for her hyper drive. New controls were, however, being added to the ship’s control room. These controls would allow the Wells to pick a date and jump to it with a certain amount of accuracy. No one was sure just how accurate that was going to be.

  The refit was closer to total revamp of the ship’s systems. In real, subjective years, they were only a little over twenty years old, but ship-building had come a long way in the three hundred years she was in transit. Everything from her navigational suite to her weapons was being revamped.

  Captain Reordan had an office on the inner side of the dock so she could watch the ship as she was being worked on. The door-chime drew her attention and she automatically said, “Come.”

  A tall, slender, well-muscled man dre
ssed in a commander’s uniform walked in and came to attention. “Commander Kellin Frazier, reporting as ordered, Ma’am.” At Captain Reordan’s nod he laid an InfoChip on her desk.

  The captain ignored it. She’d already seen all the data it contained. Standing, she offered her hand and said, “Mister Frazier, welcome aboard the H.G. Wells.”

  Commander Frazier took her hand automatically, but his eyes were focused beyond her, out into the dry-dock. “Thank you, Ma’am, but what am I doing here? I specifically requested duty on a research vessel. That’s a heavy cruiser.” He gave the ship a closer look. “That’s a really old heavy cruiser.”

  “Older than you can imagine, Mister Frazier. I can’t give you all the details yet, not till your full clearances come in, but rest assured that she is a research vessel. She’s being specially refitted for the duty.”

  Commander Frazier glanced at his new captain, and walked over to the window. “What are they doing to her, Ma’am?”

  “Well, most significantly, they are stripping her weapons to a bare minimum. Six torpedo tubes and two gamma-ray lasers are all she’ll have left when they’re done. Barely enough to defend herself. Most of the rest of the ship is being refitted to incorporate science labs. We’re going to be doing some very delicate research. We’ll also be receiving seven landing craft of assorted models for planetary surveys. While the Wells is technically capable of making landfall, it’s not something we’ll be doing if we can help it.” She grimaced at the thought. “It expends ninety percent of her fuel to land and take off again.”

  “What class ship is she, Ma’am?” the commander asked, still gazing out the window.

  “That will also have to wait for your clearances to come in. All I can tell you now is that she’s the last of her kind and the first of her kind.”

  “That’s kind of cryptic, Captain.”

  Captain Reordan smiled softly and tilted her head to the side as she said, “I know, but you really do have to wait. But trust me on this; it’ll be worth it.”

  “All right, Captain, if you say so. What do you want me on first?”

  Captain Reordan smiled at the easy way her executive officer assumed his responsibilities. “Crew listing. We only have about thirty of our crew so far, and there are only going to be about two hundred in total. We may also be taking along a hundred or so specialists, but they won’t be our responsibility.” She turned back to her desk to call up a set of schematics, and turned the monitor toward her exec. “These are the refit plans. I’ll forward them to you. The berthing arrangements are your first concern. The ship originally carried over six hundred, but a lot more systems are being automated in the refit.”

  Commander Frazier looked at the plans intently, then shook his head. “That doesn’t look like any ship design I’ve ever seen before, Ma’am. I suppose that is going to have to wait on my clearances as well. What have we received as far as crew?”

  “Mostly engineers. Our chief engineer, Lieutenant Commander Jarred Williamson, has his people in the engineering spaces. This ship has a very—special—drive and he and his people need all the time they can manage getting to know it.”

  “I know Jarred Williamson, Captain. There’s never been a drive he couldn’t make dance. He’s the most talented and intuitive engineer I’ve ever met. What is he doing here? The last I heard he was headed for R&D to design—Oh, crap.” Commander Frazier looked stunned. “Is this one of Jerry’s designs?”

  “No. But you should have seen him when he got a look at her schematics. I’ve never seen a grown man act so much like a my little brother at Christmas.”

  Commander Frazier grinned. “That’s Jerry.”

  “Our people are berthed on the dock. We have—” A chime from the computer drew her attention. She muttered, “Figures,” as she read the message. “I have to go to the Luna Administrative Center. Ask the corporal at the door to take you to our berthing area. XO’s stateroom is clearly marked.” She pulled a keycard from a pile on her desk. “This will get you in, and then you can key it to your door. Dismissed, Mister Frazier.”

  Commander Frazier snapped to attention. “Yes, Ma’am,” he answered, then did an about-face and left the office.

  Captain Reordan waited until the door closed before pushing a stud on her desk. A woman’s voice almost immediately replied, “Chief’s Quarters, Master Chief McCormack speaking.”

  “COB, I need a small craft to the moon, ASAP.” She didn’t identify herself. She didn’t need to. She and Krystal McCormack went way back.

  “I’ll have shuttle six fueled and pre-flighted before you get to her, Ma’am. Any special instructions?”

  “No, just got called for a face-to-face with Admiral Kerhonkson again. I wonder why she can’t just chew me out over the com like everyone else does?” There was laughter from the com, but no other comment before it went dead.

  Captain Reordan closed out her files and secured her computer before leaving her office. Her usual Marine guard was with the XO, so she just locked the door and headed for the shuttle dock. As promised, shuttle six, the one with the name Krystal’s Kitty on her nose, was waiting with hot engines.

  “Ready to go, Krys?” she asked as she boarded and took the right-hand seat.

  “All systems normal. What’d you do this time, Erica?” the COB answered.

  “Same old shit, Krys. Same old shit. Admiral Kerhonkson wants to know what we are doing with ‘that old derelict’ in one of her dry docks. I can’t tell her, which she interprets as ‘won’t’ tell her, and she’s going to try browbeating me again.”

  “The old man won’t help?”

  Captain Reordan shook her head at Krystal referring to Lord Kenyon as The Old Man. “Haven’t called him about it yet. So far she’s just being nosey. If it comes to it, though, I’ll com him for help.”

  Master Chief McCormack nodded and grasped the shuttle’s joy-stick. A slight movement of her wrist caused reaction thrusters to puff and the small vessel pushed away from the dock. Another twitch shoved her nose away from the station. She waited until they had a hundred meters clearance before engaging the main drive.

  Captain Reordan felt a fat man sit on her chest for a minute, then weightlessness replaced him. “I’m not in that much of a hurry, Krys.”

  “Had to get clear of an incoming cargo shuttle,” Krystal replied as she fiddled with her controls. “Three hours to Luna orbit. Probably an hour more waiting for landing clearance.” She brought out a deck of magnetic cards. “Hearts or Aces?”

  Captain Reordan laughed. “You never change, Krys. And I hope you never do. Hearts.”

  *

  The yeoman stood when Captain Reordan entered the admiral’s office. “May I help you, Ma’am?”

  “I’m Captain Erica Reordan. I—”

  “The admiral said to send you right in, Ma’am,” the yeoman interrupted. “This way please.” He led the way to a door at the back of the office and opened it, then announced, “Captain Reordan is here, Ma’am.”

  The reply was a cold, “Send her in.”

  Captain Reordan marched into the admiral’s office and came to attention. “Captain Erica Reordan reporting to Admiral Kerhonkson as ordered, Ma’am.”

  The admiral didn’t even look up from her desk. She seemed to be ignoring Captain Reordan, and continued the charade for five minutes while Erica stood at attention. She finally spoke, still not looking up. “What is that ship?”

  “Ma’am, with all due respect, I am not at liberty to disclose that information.”

  The admiral took a quick breath through her nose, then blew it out just as fast. “You will answer me, Captain.” Now her eyes came up, and they might as well have been laser cannons. “I have clearance to every engineering secret in the Confederacy. Now what are you doing with that ancient piece of crap?”

  “Ma’am, with all due respect, I have been ordered not to discuss the particulars of the Wells with anyone without written authorization from Lord Kenyon.”

  The adm
iral shouted, “You insolent little bitch!” just as the door opened again. “I said I wasn’t to be disturbed!”

  “Admiral Kerhonkson, Lady Les—”

  The yeoman was pushed aside by a large man in the uniform of the Presidential Security Service and a little old lady walked in. “Who in the hell are you?” the admiral demanded.

  “I’m Lady Princess Leslie Ann Elisabeth Courtney Del Rios Roberts, and if you speak to me in that tone again I’ll have Eric bust your sorry ass,” the old lady replied with a scowl. “Captain Reordan and her ship are under my jurisdiction, and you’ll keep your nosey ass out of my business. Is that understood, Admiral Kerhonkson?”

  “You have no—”

  “Six months ago the Confederate Congress authorized a new research directorate, and the Wells is our first vessel.”

  “I was informed of no—”

  “You don’t have the clearance,” Lady Leslie interrupted.

  “I have clearance for—”

  “Not for this, and since I am the only person who can grant such a clearance, you’ll never receive it. Captain Reordan, return to your ship.”

  “You have no authority over Naval personnel,” Admiral Kerhonkson snarled.

  Lady Leslie just glared at her for a moment, then pulled a small com unit from her handbag. She flipped it open, and a voice answered a moment later. “Yes, Mother?”

  “Eric, dear, I’m having more trouble with that Kerhonkson woman,” Lady Leslie replied.

  The voice replied, “Yes, Mother,” and the com went dead.

  “Am I supposed to be intimidated by that?” Admiral Kerhonkson asked with a sneer.

  Lady Leslie smiled serenely. “Oh, no. You’ll be intimidated by someone else entirely. I’ve been aware of your harassment of Captain Reordan and her people, and it’s going to stop.”

  “There are very few people in the Navy who can intimidate me, Lady Leslie, and even fewer civilians.”

  “If you keep interfering in my directorate’s business,” Lady Leslie replied in a low, angry tone, “you’ll be a civilian.”

  “I am within my rights to—” The admiral’s snarled, then her line beeped. It was a personal line, straight from the CSS Navy Headquarters on Earth.