Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

  The exercise they were about to perform was the first with the fleet. All of the ship's companies were involved; they would have to deal with simulated casualties and battle damage along the way. She'd argued for an actual simulated space battle between ships but the admiral had nixed the idea. This was the next best thing.

  “All right, Commander, have at thee,” the admiral said, setting his juice down.

  “All of the other ships have checked in. The flag bridge has the watch. We're ready, sir,” Lobsterman reported.

  “And counting down, three … two ... one ... simulation begins ...” Sprite said.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The next day they held a briefing on the results of the exercise. Sprite did a critique of their performance with all the ship's captains present virtually. When she was finished the admiral lavished a bit of wisdom and then they'd retired to the bridges of the ships to begin the final countdown.

  “I should have expected that you wouldn't have stampeded in to drive the tin cans off,” Sprite said, shaking her head. She knew discussing it was a form of distraction but she knew he needed it. Even if it did make him a bit more smug than he had a right to be. Okay, perhaps a little smugness had been earned she thought grudgingly.

  After entering Kathy's World star system the admiral had picked up on her tin cans bombarding the planet and then done something she hadn't expected or gamed out. He had kicked out half his fighters on a torpedo run and then had them go into stealth while he followed them in. Her initial plan had gone out the window when he hadn't kept the fleet train on the jump point or had the go to the Protodon jump point but had them come in behind him. The ambush she'd arranged had been picked up by a stealthed recon drone well outside engagement range.

  “Not bad admiral. A sight better than the first time,” Sprite observed. “There are still some rough spots, but not bad.”

  “We're getting there,” the admiral murmured. “That was pretty tricky, Commander, good work.”

  “You could say the same yourself. I hadn't expected you to drop missile packs and weapons drones behind with the fleet train. I should have considering the battle of B101a1,” the AI replied. “Tricky tricky,” she murmured.

  He chuckled. “Well, I knew my opponent so I knew you'd try something to throw me off. Put me on the horns of dilemma with no easy answer,” he replied. She nodded. He'd sucked in her ambushers and then blown them to hell with the weapons drones, missiles, and fast reaction fighters.

  “I also thought you'd put the corvettes out on your flanks so I could pick them off. Not concentrate them,” Sprite said.

  “If I'd divided my forces it would have invited defeat in detail. Oh, I could have sent a group to the Protodon jump point to cut off any attackers. I'd toyed with the idea but discarded it early on.”

  “I see.”

  “I'm glad you called it before simulating the landing,” Sprite said, shaking her head.

  “You did fine with that last op force. And having the last group tuck its tail and run was also a nice touch. It got the wolves baying for more blood while others cheered at the sight. Now we need to see it happen for real.”

  “If we don't tear them apart first,” Lobsterman said.

  “If we're done patting ourselves on the back ...” Meia said. The admiral and AI turned to her. “I don't mean to rush you sir, but Commander Sprite did bring up an important point. Every moment we're here means many could be dying on that world. I for one would like to get there as soon as possible and relieve them if we can.”

  Mia and others growled in agreement.

  The admiral frowned. He didn't want to be drawn into a long engagement, but it seemed he may not have much of a choice.

  “So, we're ready?” Lobsterman asked, cutting off further debate.

  The admiral nodded, settling himself in his couch. “Indeed. Start the countdown clock Ensign,” he said, turning to Ariel.

  The red haired woman nodded and then turned back to her own station. “Aye, Admiral. It's three light years, Admiral. Barely a hop let alone a skip and a jump,” the navigator quipped, grinning over her shoulder at him. She sobered when he gave her a mild look. “Um, transit time should take us three weeks, sir,” she said more professionally. He nodded.

  They launched the usual reconnaissance spy satellites into the system near the Kathy's World jump point and then one by one the ships jumped.

  Chapter 10

  The moment the fleet was secured in the Kathy's World star system probes were launched. Among them was a recon satellite that would remain behind in their wake to monitor the jump point region for traffic as usual. “Sir, why are we expending so much hardware?” Meia asked.

  “Why not?” The admiral asked mildly. “It's not like we can't make more right?”

  She blinked and then slowly nodded.

  “Besides, we're going to want Intel about what is happening on the planet, even if we don't end up going there,” the admiral said.

  The two tactical officers exchanged careful looks. “Sir, does that mean we're not going to the planet?” Meia asked carefully.

  “It means I haven't made up my mind,” the admiral replied. “Nor our next course of action.”

  “Oh.”

  “Are we going to recover the drones if we do go to the planet, sir?” Mia asked. The admiral shrugged. “I see,” she murmured. “Too soon to answer,” she said answering herself. He nodded.

  “This star system is currently a major transit point. It's on the front lines in other words. So, we have to go with an ancient saying.” He cleared his throat. “One must observe everything and be open to new ideas in order to know oneself and one's enemy,” he said.

  “Who said that, sir?” Meia asked, wrinkling her nose. “It sounds familiar.”

  “It's been twisted up over the ages,” the admiral replied. “This particular version came from a Veraxin sage on war I believe,” he explained.

  “Marshal Ze'shel'na, sir,” Hr'tz replied softly. Irons turned his attention to the Veraxin and bowed ever so slightly. “I think it is out of context here, but accurate,” he said, signaling second level agreement and third level amusement with his true hands.

  “True,” Sprite said.

  “Which should have given us enough time to have given Mister Zen and his cohorts in CIC time to get an initial picture of the system. So, Chief, report?” Irons asked, turning to the T'Clock expectantly.

  “Nothing around us for one AU, Admiral,” the alien bug answered. “CIC has put up a tentative ID of a ship in orbit of the moon. She's a Clydesdale based on her size and mass readings sir.”

  “Interesting ...”

  “We can put a cap flight out, Admiral, if you think we should double check,” Meia said hopefully.

  “The recon drone shell is sufficient for the moment, Lieutenant,” the admiral said, smiling slightly at her obvious urge to get back into the cockpit. “Stand down to yellow alert. If nothing else presents itself we'll stand down to condition green and normal running status shortly,” he said.

  “Aye aye, sir,” Lobsterman said as the lighting changed to a brighter tint. “Set condition yellow. Repeat, stand down from battle stations and set condition yellow. That is all,” the AI's voice said over the intercom throughout the ship.

  “The recon drones will be coasting in on ballistic shortly Admiral. Their primary drives are near the burn out mark,” Meia warned.

  “We'll pass them if we head to the planet. Understood,” the admiral replied with a knowing nod. Anything new from CIC?”

  “CIC reported a faint hint of traffic in the area, but they want more time to nail it down. Currently they are placing it in the possible category, Admiral,” Zen reported.

  “Keep me posted,” Irons said as the T'Clock painted the track on his number 4 monitor. He glanced at it, immediately bringing the image feed up to his HUD. He studied the track. From the look of it several ships had passed through the system from Protodon's jump point to the B452c jump point
.

  “Flag staff meeting in twenty,” he said suddenly, coming rapidly to a decision. “Get CIC to get me more on those plots. Launch more drones if you have to,” the admiral ordered.

  Meia blinked in surprise then nodded. “Aye sir,” she said, tapping at her station to pass the order along. “We'll have to pull the reserve drones from storage sir. They are on Collier 4,” she warned.

  “Do it. Dispatch a cargo shuttle over. As soon as possible to pick them up.”

  “Can I ask what's the tearing hurry, sir?” Sprite asked him on his HUD.

  “In a moment, Commander. Save it for the meeting,” he said getting to his feet. “Lieutenant Meia, you have the con,” he said formally.

  Meia looked up and then nodded. “Aye sir, I have the con,” she said, racking her station and then getting up. She paused as he stepped aside and to the hatch. “I'll be in the flag wardroom if I am needed,” the admiral said, then left.

  “Aye, sir,” Meia replied dutifully, taking her seat as Mia took her recently occupied station. “Musical chairs. Can someone tell me what that was about?” She asked rhetorically to the room at large.

  “If I were to guess I'd say it has to do with those tracts CIC posted,” Zen replied. He clacked his jaws. “I am uncertain why it would concern him. The ships have most likely departed. The youngest track is several weeks old.”

  “We'll find out. When he's ready,” Lobsterman stated.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Care to share, Admiral?” Sprite asked as the admiral paced in the wardroom.

  “Not yet,” he growled.

  “I'm guessing ...”

  “I said not yet, Commander,” the admiral growled. He waited until Ian had logged in. He nodded to the destroyer skipper's visage on the monitor, then to Commander Sindri and Lobsterman's image. “Sir?” Sindri asked. “I'm a bit tied up with shutting the drive down,” he warned.

  “Understood, Chief,” the admiral said. “This won't take long. A few minutes ago CIC painted a series of ion trails on the plot. Large groups of ship movements.”

  “My own CIC did the same, sir,” Ian replied with a nod.

  “I think I see where this is going,” Sprite murmured. “Three separate ion tracks going to the B452c jump point from other parts of the solar system. The most recent was several weeks ago. CIC and Chief Zen are still trying to nail the exact time line down.”

  “So, what does that mean?” Sindri asked, wrinkling his broad nose.

  “It means exactly what the commander just said. Three fleets passed through there sometime in the past month or so. Perhaps later, perhaps sooner.”

  “But I thought we're going to Protodon, sir?”

  “I changed my mind,” Irons growled.

  “Sir?” Sindri blinked as Major Gustov arrived in the wardroom. The admiral nodded as the marine took a seat.

  “We've uncovered three fleets or task forces most likely Horathian, passing through this system to B 452C for destinations unknown.”

  “But deeper into space we don't want them to be in. Like say Agnosta or Pyrax, or through Centennial to the other systems beyond,” Sprite said.

  “I'm more concerned about the immediate risk to the convoys plying the space lane between Pyrax and Antigua commander,” Irons reminded her.

  Her avatar froze. After a moment she straightened and nodded. “I see sir. I agree.”

  “So, we're going in after them?” the major asked. “We don't know what we're up against, sir.”

  “No. Which is a problem. We need Intel. I don't like going in blind,” the admiral growled. He took a seat. “The only source of Intel other than space is that ship.”

  “Or the planet, sir,” the major reminded him.

  “Only if they had eyes out here, which we haven't seen,” Sprite reminded him. “If there is an occupational force on the planet they'll be dealing with that too,” she said, turning her eyes to the admiral.

  “Which is where my people come in,” the major said with a nod. “And I'm glad you've gotten my people up to date with the equipment, sir. Even if most of it is stored on the freighters,” he said.

  “Maine's armory is now fully stocked sir. Say the word and we can have six squads of armor down on the planet the moment we're in orbit,” Lobsterman said.

  “Which I don't want to do,” the admiral replied, clenching and unclenching his fist. “The worst thing we can do right now is to get tangled up in that mess. To get bogged down here. That's a problem.”

  “Sir, why not call them?” Sprite asked.

  “Call them? Just like that?” Sindri asked. He barked a chuckle. “Ballsy,” he said.

  “Why not? We don't have to say who we are. Give me a moment and I can whip up a facsimile of Admiral Rico that should fool those who haven't met him,” the AI said.

  “Admiral,” Lobsterman said. “Late news on the Rialto as the quote goes,” the AI said with a hand wave to get his attention. The admiral's head turned to the AI. “Chief Zen and CIC have gotten a better look at the ion trails now that the probes are closer. They have identified it as three tracks, small groups overlaying each track so they were moving in formation. The oldest is nearly a year old. They are spaced apart by several months. The last one was a pair of ships; one had a military drive, the other civilian.”

  “Sir, based on the ion trails size and wake CIC is estimating their size as small ships. Warships no larger than a destroyer or light cruiser with medium sized freighters.”

  “Could they be chasing the freighters?”

  “Most likely no,” the AI stated. “Some of the drive signatures were paired with ships.”

  “Raiding parties?” Sprite speculated.

  “It make sense,” Ian mused as all eyes turned to his image. “A warship and a ship to store the booty. Or the freighter could be a troop transport,” he said, turning eyes on the major. “Like they did for Hidoshi's world,” he said.

  The major nodded. “It wouldn't take much, sir; we did the same ourselves for the relief force minus the destroyer,” the major said, eying the admiral.

  “Admiral, we don't even have to send the whole fleet to the planet. We can send Bounty and a freighter. Collier 2,” the major suggested. “I can take a team of marines down, clean out the bastards, then we can catch up to you.”

  “Thanks for volunteering me, Major,” Ian said in amusement.

  “Anytime Captain,” the marine replied with a shark like grin. “I thought you'd like a chance at shooting fish in a barrel. Or in this case a gravity well,” he said. Ian nodded. All eyes turned to the admiral.

  “Let me think about it. Draw up a formal proposal and run it past the commander,” Irons said after a moment. “I'm not keen about the idea however. Even if you liberate the planet it won't stay liberated,” he warned. “Not unless we leave a sufficient picket on guard to protect it. And this system doesn't have the resources to support a picket.”

  “And we can't afford to leave small penny packets behind in every system we go through. Even though we want to. We need to stay concentrated. Antigua is the real prize here,” Sprite said.

  The major looked mulish but Ian nodded.

  “Admiral, according to CIC, and this is tentative, each of those ships were moving faster than other ships in the Horathian inventory,” Lobsterman interjected.

  Sindri grunted. “What does that mean, faster?”

  “It means they've stepped up their game. These are better ships than we've faced before. They are getting more of a handle on the ship's maintenance I am assuming,” the admiral replied. “We've been seeing a progression lately. It's not intermediate though,” he said, now rubbing his chin. He stopped and then clasped his hands together. “They are becoming more of a threat than anticipated.”

  “Why, because their ships are faster?”

  “Think about it. They are taking more time to get it right. Actually, in this case less time. It's exponential,” Sprite stated. “There was one small task force raiding the area when we
took it down in Pyrax. Before that singleton raiders. Then the two task forces. We've compared the data on them with what we picked up from the other ships. They have improved a great deal. Not just in drives, but across the board.”

  “That's not good,” Ian said slowly.

  “No. No it's not,” the admiral replied.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  After a bit of soul searching the admiral came to the reluctant decision not to break the fleet up. “We can always come back.”

  “I hope you can live with yourself, sir,” the major said. “I know I'm going to have a rough night over this.”

  “I know. And yes, I will. But we'll deal with it. I have to keep an eye on the horizon, on the big picture,” the admiral stated flatly.

  “Are we going to do the same in Protodon, sir?” the major asked with a leaden voice.

  “No. That's because we're not going there. We're going elsewhere,” Irons said, stabbing a finger at the other jump point. “Here.”

  The admiral changed the fleet's course and plan. They were going to go to the Beta 452c jump point and then cut upward, hopefully running down any pirates in the area that they encountered while also protecting the shipping in the area. He explained his reasoning to protect the area and the vital convoys to the officers and senior staff.

  “If they've already gotten one, sir?” Ian asked carefully

  “Then we damn well take it back from them,” the admiral replied.

  “It doesn't seem right to prioritize things this way, sir. We're here now. People are dying down there,” the major said, struggling with the idea of leaving them behind.

  “That's a problem. But like I explained before, we can't stay. If we go in and save them, then what? This is a crossroads major, and that moon is covered in Neos and aliens. They outnumber humans by ten to one, and that's from the Encyclopedia Galactica, There is no telling what those numbers are now. And yes, I am fully aware they are probably being hunted. But they are Neos. They can and will fight back,” the admiral said.