Scout Force

by Rodney Smith

  The captain pulled out his own terminal, aimed it at Kelly’s, and said he hoped he would take him up on his offer.

  Kelly moved back over to his seat and pondered his options. He was certain General Bugarov intended to put him into the most miserable job she could find. Kelly didn’t like that option. Ensign Nielsen offered pleasant possibilities. Captain Hasselrode and his admiral offered other possibilities. Of course, the military is one profession where one walks up to a gift horse, pries its mouth open and checks it closely. It is always nicer, however, to have multiple options from which to choose. Kelly pulled out a pillow, wedged it into the space between the seats and caught some sleep before the shuttle landed. As he drifted in and out of sleep, he noted to himself how abysmally slow the shuttle was compared to his fighter.

  * * * * *

  Ensign Blake awoke shortly before landing and spent the last minutes on the flight to Fleet Base 17 researching assignment options. The base was home to LTJG Dahlen’s refit and repair directorate, a supply directorate, a base services directorate, base headquarters, and the flight detachment to which Ensign Nielsen belonged. It also included the headquarters and three squadrons of the Scout Force. Kelly decided he would check out Admiral Craddock’s history.

  Admiral Craddock’s resume looked a little spotty. It suggested that in addition to the Scout Force work, he also had a few tours in Fleet Intelligence. His assignments within the Scout Force were impressive. One of his assignments, as Commander of the Scout Ship Resolute, struck a familiar note.

  Further research revealed that then Lieutenant Commander Thomas Craddock was on patrol in the Perseus sector during the Algol Revolt. His mission was to provide early warning to the 17th Battle Fleet of any Algolian Fleet movements out of their planetary system. The Algolians had a long time conflict with the Aldebarans over asteroid mineral rights along the edges of the Pleiades Star field. It had led to interplanetary war a decade prior. The resulting Perseus Act limited the number of major combatants each planet’s Fleet could have off planet at any one time.

  Fleet forces were stretched thin, handling several crises in the region. The 17th Battle Fleet would need time to gather forces and bring them to bear against any Algolian incursion. LCDR Craddock was on patrol to sunward of the Algolian main fleet base when their entire fleet lifted off and proceeded to the Aldebaran system. His calls to the 17th Fleet were answered with, “Handle it as best you can, we’re up to our butts in alligators,” or words to that effect.

  The Resolute was a long range Scout class ship, designed to provide early warning to a Combat Fleet. It was loaded with long-range sensors, long-range communications, and short-range weaponry. The 40-person crew was enough to maintain 24-hour watches, but not enough for boarding anything more dangerous than an interplanetary cargo shuttle. The Resolute’s shields and armor were effective against a single energy blast, but a concentrated barrage would reduce her to space dust. Its weapons, while effective for allowing the ship to fight its way out of a jam, were not offensive weapons by any measure. Its main advantage was that, at that time, it was the smallest class of ship in the universe capable of mounting a three-power light speed engine.

  Left in a situation that was totally impossible and lacking clear guidance, he did what no sane officer would do. LCDR Craddock singlehandedly attacked the entire Algolian Fleet–and won.

  The Algolian Fleet was composed of over 300 ships. It had 20 battlecruisers, 40 light cruisers, 45 heavy and medium destroyers, 50 or so lesser combatants, and 100 assault landing ships. The remainders were support ships of various types. What the Algolians had in numbers, they lacked in weapons control, sensor resolution, and speed. They also suffered from poor intelligence on GR Fleet capabilities and lack of recent experience fighting fleet-on-fleet engagements. All of their training had been conducted against their own forces. LCDR Craddock realized this and proceeded to confound the Algolians.

  He started by getting just outside of their sensor range and communicating a warning to the Algolian Fleet Commander that his actions were in violation of the Perseus Act and if he did not return to Algol, cloaked fighters within his formation would destroy his Fleet. The Algolian Fleet Commander ignored the warning and kept on.

  Sitting at the edge of Algolian sensor range, the Resolute used its superior sensors to develop a precise plot of every Algolian ship in the formation. By watching them for several days, it was able to predict where every Algolian ship would be at any point.

  LCDR Craddock executed a carefully orchestrated sequence of precise FTL jumps into the middle of the Algolian Fleet. Each time he dropped out of FTL, his position was to the rear of one of the Algolian major combatants. His energy weapons at close range made short work of the warship’s engines and then he conducted an FTL jump back out of the formation. After twenty jump sequences, all Algolian battlecruisers were adrift in space, venting gases, with not a scratch on the Resolute. Of course, half the Resolute’s crew was puking their guts out from FTL sickness, but the effect had been made. The Algolian Fleet limped back to Algol with the prides of their Fleet in tow, convinced the 17th Battle Fleet had cloaked ships in their midst.

  When the 17th Battle Fleet finally called the Resolute to inform them they would be proceeding to her assistance, LCDR Craddock told them their assistance was not needed, as he was escorting the Algolian Fleet back to their home base and the decommissioning of their 20 battle cruisers.

  The tactic of sequential FTL hops had been taught at the Star Academy ever since. LCDR Craddock was promoted to Commander Craddock and took over command of a Scout Squadron. As Kelly continued his research, he found other accounts of Admiral Craddock’s brilliance and panache in unusual combat situations. This was a man he could work for.

  * * * * *

  Two days later, after placing a call to Captain Hasselrode using the contact info the captain had beamed into his terminal, Kelly scheduled an interview with Admiral Craddock. Kelly had been ducking the base assignments officer while considering his alternatives. He’d already found out from a helpful yeoman they planned to assign him to the Base Services Directorate. He had no intention of tracking building repair orders for the next three years. He was going to get himself back into space.

  The following morning, he arrived at Admiral Craddock’s office, where Captain Hasselrode introduced him to his boss.

  Admiral Craddock was about six feet tall, wearing a regulation duty uniform and not the stylized uniforms some flag officers preferred. He was obviously fit and his posture was erect. Kelly knew from his resume that Craddock was in his late fifties, but he looked ten years younger. There was an earnestness and wisdom in his face and a look of integrity. In addition, he saw what Kelly thought might be a wry sense of humor behind his eyes.

  Admiral Craddock came out from behind his desk after they exchanged salutes and gave Kelly a firm handshake.

  “Please take a seat, Ensign. Captain Hasselrode pulled your record for me. You were quite impressive until about two weeks ago. Top of your class in all your academic, flight, and combat training, excellent initial rating, and then you had the temerity to prove General Bugarov wrong in a tactical decision. I read her comments in your last rating where she drummed you out of the Fighter Corps. I checked with some buddies of mine in the 15th Fleet. I know what really happened. You showed good tactical sense. Irina embarrassed herself and used you to deflect the heat from that potential fiasco away from her.”

  He moved back behind his desk and picked up a pocket terminal.

  “She did you a favor, by the way. If she had kept you in the Fighter Force, you never would have been promoted to First Lieutenant. In three months you would have been notified you were not being promoted, given severance pay, and shipped home. By transferring you to the Fleet, she gave you a chance to continue in the service. I’m sure it didn’t feel like she was being your benefactor and I’m sure she didn’t intend to be. That’s just how it is.”

  “Ensign, if you come to work for me, I
can get you promoted to LTJG in three months. I have a little influence in personnel channels. I might be able to get General Bugarov’s rating misplaced from your file. You can have as long a career in the service as your drive and talents will take you. I think you have qualities that will fit well in the Scout Force. I can get you back out in space. What do you say?”

  Kelly stood, came to attention, faced the admiral, and said, “Sir, I would consider it an honor to serve under you in the Scout Force.”

  “Fine. Captain Hasselrode, see to it that Ensign Blake’s orders are amended assigning him to Scout Force. I think we can make better use of him than Base Services. Your specific assignment orders will be cut today. Check your terminal for where to report. That will be all, Ensign. Welcome to Scout Force.”

  Kelly shook the admiral’s hand, saluted, turned, and left the office, resisting the urge to jump for joy as he exited. He also reflected on how much the admiral knew about him. He didn’t think it would be wise to underestimate RADM Craddock’s knowledge on any subject.

  RADM Craddock went back behind his desk and asked, “John, where do you think he would be best used?”

  “Sir, I think he would make a good second officer on the Vigilant. It’s coming out of refit at the end of the month. LCDR Timmons and Ensign Blake would make a good team. The Vigilant has a good Chief, and Blake seems intelligent enough to learn the insides and out of the ship from a seasoned senior chief.”

  “Good, see to it. It’s a pity he had to run afoul of Old Bugger Off. He would have made a damned fine Fighter Force commander. I really should do something about her. She has ruined more than her fair share of good officers. I think I may make some calls.”

  Chapter Two

  Ensign Blake expected he would move into quarters on the Vigilant; however, the Vigilant’s extensive refit had the crew’s quarters strewn with wiring, piping, and boxes. The yard was running a little behind schedule. There was so much activity on the Vigilant that it was unsafe and inconvenient for the crew to be onboard.

  It didn’t take Kelly very long to unpack his few belongings and get settled into the base bachelor officers’ quarters, the BOQ or the Q, as it was more readily known. He caught up on his messages, tried to watch some of the local programming, but wound up falling asleep on the couch. He woke up in the morning and had just enough time to get cleaned up and dressed. Kelly left the Q and proceeded to the building where LCDR Timmons had his shore office. He took the elevator to the sixth floor.

  It was unusual for a crew not to be aboard helping with the refit, but Captain Hasselrode had been stoking a fire under the refit and repair directorate officer-in-charge. The refit crew chief had asked the crew to clear out and give them total rein and freedom of action onboard. It was unusual, but not unheard of. The plus was the refit would be completed on time, but the down side was the crew would not be there to see how the refit crew had installed components and changed things from the way they were before.

  The office door to room 615 said In-Port Office, GRS Valiant, PC-155. Kelly turned the knob and entered. Seated in the middle of the office was a female yeoman. She looked up as Kelly walked in and came to attention.

  “Good morning, sir. Are you Ensign Blake?”

  Kelly answered in the affirmative. He looked closer at the yeoman. She was a strikingly beautiful woman. She had strong, chiseled features with high cheekbones and a trim, athletic figure. Her dark hair was done up in a neat bun, high on the back of her head. Kelly clearly saw a Central American heritage; she looked like she could have stepped down from an Aztec temple wall carving.

  “Welcome, sir. I am Yeoman Benitez. The captain is expecting you. If you’ll wait a moment, I’ll let him know you have arrived. She moved over to an office door to the left of the anteroom and knocked.

  She opened the door and announced Kelly’s arrival, closed the door and turned back to Kelly. She told him the captain would see him now and went back to her desk.

  Kelly entered LCDR Edgar Timmons’ office, marched up to the desk, saluted, and reported in. LCDR Timmons saluted quickly, got up from his chair, walked around his desk, and gave Kelly a firm, but not crushing handshake. LCDR Timmons was a big man. He wasn’t much taller than Kelly, but he was built like a bear.

  “My name is Edgar, but you can call me Captain. Glad to have you onboard, Ensign Blake.”

  “Yes sir, I don’t know if this office qualifies as onboard, Captain, but I’m sure glad to be here.”

  “Be seated, Ensign. You have a good file here. For someone that hasn’t been in the service for very long, you have an unusually large and noteworthy file. You have top block ratings in all your schools. You got good grades at the Academy. I see you’ve been awarded the Space Medal and the Joint Meritorious Service Medal. Those are quite impressive medals. I know how you got the first one; that action is why you’re here. You’ll have to tell me how you got the other someday.”

  LCDR Timmons looked up and saw Kelly was sitting at attention. “Relax, Ensign. You're going to do all right in Scout Force. The Vigilant is a good ship and we'll teach you how we do things in the Scouts. You could serve with a lot worse.”

  He paused for a moment and continued, “I want to tell you a little bit about why we’re out here. I know it’s not taught well enough in the Academy. It's important to know why you may be asked to put your life on the line way out where the stars are few and far between.”

  “I know you learned about the Milky Way in Astrography. I’ll bring you up to date, but first let me cover a little history. You know the Milky Way is a bar spiral galaxy and Earth’s solar system is in a small spiral off of the nuclear center of the galaxy, not one of the bigger spirals further outward. Even though our galaxy is called the Milky Way because of the apparent cloud of stars, there are vast distances between the stars. These areas we call dark space. This is where we Scouts operate best.”

  “I’m sure you learned about the first galactic human settlements over a century ago. When our first long-range probes and scouts went out, they found our little corner of the galaxy was largely unpopulated and mostly devoid of life. We quickly populated human settlements on the few habitable planets in this part of the galaxy. Huge settlement ships were built and they carried mankind out into the far reaches of space. We populated the 10 closest worlds first and spread out from there. Those first settlers had it hard. We lost a lot of good people. Life on the frontier was rough, before your parents came up with reliable long distance FTL communications 25 years ago. There are now over 150 human-inhabited worlds and moons in this arm of the Milky Way.”

  LCDR Timmons made a sudden turn from his subject. “How are your parents, anyway? I hope I get a chance to meet them some day. I’m a big fan of theirs.”

  Kelly’s parents were quite well known scientists and inventors. “They’re fine, sir, as best I know. I’ve been out near the K’Rang frontier for months and haven’t communicated with them in a while. I expect to get back in touch now that I’m here.”

  “Good! Where was I? Oh, yeah. It wasn’t until our scouts pressed further out-spiral that we ran into the Moosilian Empire. The Moose, as we began to call them, were fairly benevolent and we signed the First Intergalactic Treaty with them in 2133. We agreed to the establishment of a buffer zone between our races. Trade is allowed and encouraged, but they don’t want us moving any excess population in there. Our patrol forces on the frontier guarantee we don’t trod in each other’s space. It’s held up pretty well.”

  “Our scouts surveying in-spiral found a similar situation. Life is not as common as most early philosophers, authors, and scientist expected. One scout pushing out further in-spiral on a deep-space patrol found a curious artifact floating in open space. It was a spinning, glowing triangular dipyramid. They scanned it from all sides, recorded all they could, and would have brought it back to the nearest star base if it hadn’t been twice the size of their ship. After a great deal of study, the best human brains determined it was a no trespassing s
ign. The scouts had run into the frontier of the K’Rang Empire.”

  “While the Moose are a benevolent race, as you know, the K’Rang are not. They are a rat nasty bunch and want nothing to do with humanity. In fact, their standard response to meeting a human ship in space is to immediately annihilate the human ship. No warning, no get out, they just blast away.”

  “Actually, rat nasty is a somewhat inappropriate description of the K’Rang. They are actually evolved from a cat-like species. They walk on two legs, but retain many feline traits and characteristics. They have the fur, claws, teeth, and balance of a cat. They can leap three times their own height. They are incredibly quick. A K’Rang warrior can cover short distances with incredible speed. If they get in close they can make full use of their claws and fangs. In space they react similarly. They like to get in and duke it out at close range. Something we have learned to use to our advantage.”

  “After the Capricorn War, which we and the K’Rang fought to a draw, we withdrew back from the frontier, established our mutual sensor and mine fields to provide advanced warning of any incursions, and pretended each other didn’t exist. No armistice or cease-fire was signed. We withdrew to lick our mutual wounds. Neither side able to gain the advantage. Neither side wanting to provoke the other has existed for quite some time. That situation, unfortunately, has changed.”

  “Four months ago, a survey team from Hodgkin’s World, Inc. in Capricorn, flew in to examine some not so nearby star systems for human inhabitability. Mark Carter, Hodgkin’s World, Inc. president and CEO, wanted to export some excess population and gain some territory. His survey ship stumbled on a solar system the K’Rang were terra forming. As stupid as it was, Carter mounted an expedition of his own resources to take this world and the K’Rang terra forming technology for his own. Needless to say, K’Rang reinforcements showed up and wiped out the pitiful Hodgkin’s World, Inc. fleet, but not before the Hodgkin’s forces had killed all the K’Rang terra forming party. Fortunately, Mr. Carter paid for his stupidity and perished along with his fleet. Right now, we are calling it even, but our intel tells us that is not the K’Rang view. They haven’t done anything yet, but it could be just a matter of time before they retaliate.”