by Chris Hechtl
“Like I said, nuts.”
“At this rate we're going to need a carrier. Or at least an escort carrier,” Coglin said shaking his head.
“I'll ask the admiral if he can whip one up. In the meantime, we'll have to transfer a couple fighters over to Apple and Bounty.”
“And that means?” Coglin asked warily.
Meia sighed. “It means, against my better judgment, you are going to Bounty and Blake is going to Apple.”
“Ma'am, we're a team,” Coglin protested. The idea of breaking in a new wingman, especially a cherry wasn't very appealing to him. Not one bit. He knew Blake's mind inside and out. He could count on her.
“I know and I hate to break up a set. Unfortunately I don't have a choice. I'm giving you each a couple of pups. I'm keeping the others with experience here to help Dita. Spirits of space knows she'll need it,” Meia said.
“Dita gets to stay here? That hardly seems fair, ma'am,” Coglin complained.
Meia's eyes flashed. “She's staying here where I can keep a close eye on her. I'd rather her here than on a tin can with a brood of pups. Got it?”
“I see, ma'am,” he said, hands up.
“Good. I'm putting you both down as squadron commanders, even wing commanders for this. It'll go into your permanent record and it should help come promotion time,” she said. She didn't bother to tell him she doubted he'd get to keep the CAG position. Not unless he did an outstanding job and the admiral was really desperate. Coglin couldn't help but grin at that good news. “Don't let it go to your head,” she growled. His smile instantly vanished. He nodded. “Don't frack it up either or I'll have your balls,” she growled. He gulped and then shook his head frantically no.
“Good. Get it done,” she said. He came to attention and saluted. “Dismissed,” she murmured. He nodded and took himself off.
...*...*...*...*...
When he had the chance, the admiral stopped by to poke his head into main engineering and check things out. It wasn't an inspection, and he didn't have the time to play hookey even when Sindri and Sprite teased him about it. The admiral teased the chief engineer right back though. The small man had loved building the station. He'd also loved building the small craft as well and wanted to get back to it. He'd had a bit of trouble with his hands being so large, but he'd found delegating could solve that problem.
To the admiral's surprise the small man shook his head. “Tis fun and all, but a hobby, Admiral,” he said. “I want to get back to my roots in engineering where I belong,” he said with a grin. The admiral nodded. “A nice ship to break out my tool kit ...” he grinned, rubbing his massive hands together.
“Are you sure? I thought you'd get a kick out of maybe running the yard in Antigua,” the Admiral said.
“Yard?” The dwarf turned, raising an inquiring bushy eyebrow.
“Yes, Yard. Shipyard.”
The small man's eyes went wide. “You're kidding me!”
“No, I'm not,” the Admiral replied with a smile. “With a bit of investing on my part, a few friends of mine formed Yard Dogs Incorporated in my absence. Captain Firefly reported they had a basic repair slip up, but it had been mangled by the Horathians.”
“Bloody pirates,” Sindri growled in disgust.
The admiral nodded again. “Right. But they were working on repairing it when Firefly left. I assume they should be repaired. There are a lot of ships in system to rebuild of course, but I also plan on expanding the yard exponentially and building new ships.”
“That's a lot to take on,” Sindri replied, rubbing his jaw thoughtfully.
“Definitely a lot,” the Admiral said. He cocked his head. “The logistics alone can be a headache; we're talking about overseeing every stage of construction, right down to the bolts,” he said. Sindri's eyes gleamed. “I need someone who knows the engineering inside and out and can handle the load. Think you can handle it?”
“Well, now that I've had a crash course in ship repair, I think I can do it,” Sindri said carefully. “It'd be a nice change from sitting in the hot seat,” he said.
The Admiral laughed. The laughter broke off when his right arm touched the small man on its own. Sindri blinked in surprise, then gasped when Sprite appeared through his implants onto his retina.
“There is something else, Chief,” Sprite said quietly. The dwarf cocked his head.
“Go on, Commander, I'm all ears,” he rumbled politely.
“We have significant evidence that the Horathians have their own yard. Possibly more than one,” the AI said. She scrolled the evidence before his eyes.
The small man paused, frozen in surprise. Slowly he began to nod after a long moment of thought. “I see,” he said. He turned to the admiral. “And now I understand the tearing hurry to get to Antigua. You are playing the long game,” he said. The admiral nodded grimly. “And you don't want this brooded about because ...”
“It could undermine morale,” Sprite informed him. “If people realized the enemy was building ships it could make a few of the more fragile people give up hope. We can't have it. It is also unconfirmed. We know they have a repair yard. The construction yards though ...”
“You are saying more than one?” Irons asked. Sprite was holding a three-way conversation with them through their implants.
“Yes, Admiral. Defender picked up on that this morning. The locations of the yards outside of Horath are unknown. They are also unconfirmed,” the AI replied.
“So, we're behind. But we need to catch up,” Sindri replied. “I'll think about it,” he said.
“I'll send you the file on what the job duties are so you can make an informed decision, Chief,” Sprite said as the admiral opened his mouth. “And you can always pick our resident expert's brains over a beer anytime in the evening,” she said.
“I have set a few yards up and managed them in my time,” the admiral admitted. Sindri nodded as the admiral's hand dropped.
...*...*...*...*...
Rumors hit the scuttlebutt grapevine quickly, first on the battlecruiser, then making their rounds on the other ships one by one. Sindri was pounced on for details. He put them off, unsure about what he wanted to do, but honest at first. Eventually the endless questions wore down his humor, and he became testy. When he barked at them to get back to work and stop gossiping that put an end to the direct questions.
Irons chuckled when he heard about Sindri's bite. He turned and teased the dwarf at dinner. “Commander, there is no such thing as a stupid question. However, there is such a thing as an inquisitive idiot.”
“You got that right, sir,” Sindri grumbled. That got a laugh at the table.
Chapter 13
Before they jumped the admiral left a recon satellite near the jump point. It and others he'd seeded in the system would work in a network, feeding Tweedle Dee information about the star system. He'd initially been tempted to leave missile pods and weapons drones near each of the jump points but decided against it. He didn't like the idea of leaving them there with no one to report too, there was too much of a chance of one of the weapons going off and shooting someone innocent. Or not firing at all. He'd have to figure out something more later. Since there were four jump points, the single corvette couldn't cover them all. For now the corvette and freighter would have to protect the moon and abandon any attempt at covering any of the individual jump points.
The moment they hit hyper and were stable Sprite threw a hyperparty for the uninitiated recruits. Irons watched in amusement as the hyperdogs put the new recruits, some of them not at all thrilled about the experience, through their paces. It was all in good fun he thought. It also helped to cement them together as a crew.
They made the 13.7 light year jump in the seventh octave of Beta. The admiral smiled with approval; Sindri and his engineering teams had certainly proven their metal. Not only had they squeezed another octave out of Carnegie and the tankers, but they'd also managed to refit Collier 9 on the fly in under a week to keep up as well. That spoke
volumes about the small man and his people.
It took the fleet 4.2 parsecs, just over thirteen weeks to get to Beta-452c. By that time the “smurfs” from Kathy's World were on their feet as proper apprentices. On exit and after their initial assessment of the system, he deployed a recon satellite to remain behind and watch over the jump point zone and then the fleet moved out.
The fleet passed through B-452C system on course for the Briev jump point. It was tempting, so very tempting to come about and head to Agnosta but the admiral fought the urge.
While they were transiting the system the fighters held a series of war games while Sprite sent an encrypted signal to strip the spy satellite Irons had left in the system.
Each of the ships in their fleet also worked on their maintenance and working up exercises as they transited the star system. Once they received the download Sprite and the tactical officers in the fleet went over the data. As expected, the satellite's download showed a lot of traffic. Some of the ships sported Federation IFF's but some did not. She passed the information over to CIC to filter it but unfortunately many of the unknowns had passed too far away from the satellite to get a good enough look at them for a hard ID. There were a few hits in the database, but not enough for definitive matches.
“Admiral, Revere?” Sprite reminded him.
The admiral grunted. He'd almost forgotten. He slowly nodded. He'd kept Revere with the fleet while they crossed the system in order to get the data download. “The upload?”
“I've already sent a copy to the courier's computers. I can cut orders for them to tank up and move out in a moment, Admiral.”
“Tank up while underway?” The admiral asked.
“Think of it as a challenge,” Sprite suggested slyly. He wrinkled his nose. It was obvious from his thought patterns though that he wasn't buying it. “You are worried they can't handle it?”
“I'm more worried about a potential dutchman actually,” the admiral said.
“True,” Sprite said, now realizing she'd overlooked that.
“Order the fleet to cut speed to half,” the admiral said, turning to Lobsterman. “Pass on orders to Revere to refuel with tanker ...” he paused until Sprite helpfully highlighted Tanker 2. She then put up the fuel load on each of the tankers and their location in approximation to the courier. Finally she added a little highlight of which crew had the most experience in refueling. Tanker 2 had the most fuel and was clearly well experienced in refueling. “Tanker 2,” he said.
“Very well, sir,” the ship AI replied.
“Commander, go ahead and cut orders for both ships. I'll be in the wardroom arranging dispatches and further orders to Horatio while we have the chance,” he said, rising to his feet. He turned to the crew, then his eyes fell upon a red head running a simulation. “Ensign Poseidon, you have the bridge,” he said.
“Me, sir? I mean Aye aye, sir,” she squeaked. He chuckled as she slowly rose out of her couch and then moved over to the chair.
“Think I should arrange it to give her a spark in her rear like it bit her?” Sprite asked with a chuckle.
“I'd say yes but that's the dark side of me talking,” the admiral replied with a half-smile. “A simple boo would suffice,” he said.
“How about an unscheduled tactical drill to keep her on her toes?”
“Or give her a heart attack?” The admiral asked. The AI looked innocent on his HUD. He snorted, she wasn't fooling him. “Now you're just being mean.”
“Spoil sport.”
“I didn't say I wasn't in favor of it,” he answered, smiling slightly again. She blinked in surprise. “Go for it. KISS though.”
“Now who's being mean?” Sprite demanded. His smile broadened ever so slightly. “Besides, I don't swing that way, Admiral,” Sprite retorted. “But, if I must I must,” she sighed theatrically. He snorted and continued on his way.
...*...*...*...*...
The admiral took a few minutes to tour the ship. She was too large to do a full inspection, but showing his face made a few people happy or wary, which either affected morale and or made the slackers take note to keep busy. When he passed the hatch to a weapon's mount on the starboard side he paused at the sound of voices within. “Why are we here again? You can't fire an energy weapon in hyper, right?”
“Right. But here you can train.”
“Okay, got that. But why here? I mean, they control the weapons from the bridge, right?”
“You really need to push it don't you?” a stern voice asked.
“Sorry, sir.”
“Don't call me, sir. I work for a living,” the stern voice barked. That made the admiral crack a small smile. “I'm going to pass on to you what was passed on down to me by my sergeant who had served as a fresh meat on Firefly. It's been passed on down the line for a while now. It's simple really, an order is an order.”
“Aye aye, Corporal,” the other voice replied, this one in a meek tone.
“But ... there is actually a method to the madness. In this case, we need a warm body here in case something goes wrong. You can fix it faster than it would take someone to get here to fix it.”
“Okay, that makes sense ...”
“And besides, if the ship's chewed up then you can take local control here.”
“Oooh ...”
“Right. The light dawns. So, do your job. Practice. When you're done firing practice, run a diagnostic, then run a sim on repairs. The TACO or AI will set it up.”
“Yes, Corporal,” a female voice said in resignation.
“And don't frack around. Do your jobs or you'll be sorry and sore.”
“Yes, Corporal,” the male voice said.
“Good. I'll be spot checking later. That should keep you out of trouble,” the voice said, moving out of the compartment. Irons cocked his head as the corporal came around the bend to find the admiral standing there. “Admiral, sir!” he said, coming to attention.
The admiral eyed the twenty-year-old man. He had the class buzz cut, the build of lean muscle and the no nonsense look of a professional. He smiled slightly in approval and then nodded. “Carry on,” he said mildly.
“Aye aye, sir. Sir, I wanted to thank you for the advice, sir.”
“Advice?”
“I know it was you, sir. That story ...”
“I heard,” the admiral said with another nod.
“Yes sir. It's passed around the fleet like so many others. Words of wisdom, sir.”
“Good. Good to hear.”
“Yes sir. You inspired a buddy of mine to work his way up the food chain. I ran into him in Pyrax before Firefly shipped out. He traded his sergeant stripes in for a midshipman's insignia, sir. He'll probably be an ensign soon enough,” he said.”
“Good,” the admiral replied with a hint of approval in his voice. “What about you?”
The corporal blinked. “Me, sir?”
“Yes you. Are you planning to be a career noncom or are you considering going mustang as well?”
“I ... I ... I don't know, sir. I guess I never really thought about it that way, sir,” the corporal replied with a gulp. He blinked.
“There was a saying around Napoleon that there was a marshall's baton in every knapsack. It meant anyone could be promoted under the right circumstances. Think about it. Good job with the troops. Keep up the good work.”
“Thank you, sir!” the corporal said, saluting him.
The admiral returned the salute. “Carry on,” he said again.
“Yes, sir,” the corporal said. He about faced and took off at a trot. The admiral nodded again and then went on his way.
...*...*...*...*...
“Admiral, why didn't you choose to leave the frigate behind in Kathy's World?” Ensign Poseidon asked when they had a quiet moment.
He eyed her and then shrugged. “Because I know the crew of the corvette. They are small enough to know better than to try to engage stupidly. They will run if they have to. They'll hate themselves, but they'll do it in order to
get word to us. Heart of the Tiger's crew are a little too gung ho for my taste. They are more liable to try to stand and fight against impossible odds.”
“Oh,” she blinked. “I see, sir,” she said in a small voice as she turned away. He nodded at her back.
Once the refueling and dispatches were uploaded, Paul Revere split off from the fleet on course to the Agnosta jump point to bring word of the fleet's progress. Among a few goodies he'd sent along and all the Intel they had scared up, the admiral also cut fresh orders to send a relief and resupply force to Hidoshi's world as soon as possible. He wasn't sure if Horatio could swing it, but he hoped he could. And soon. He left it optional to send a ship to Richalu as well.
“Admiral, we're getting a call from Captain Hoshi on Le More. It seems she wants to go with Paul Revere,” Lobsterman reported.
Irons sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was going to be one of those days he thought. He was already wishing he was following the slowly disappearing courier. Or that he'd sent along a couple care packages with the crew. There just wasn't space for anything useful though, he reminded himself.
“Put her on,” the admiral said, settling himself as he jerked on his jacket hem. He waited a beat as the ship AI made the connection and Defender's firewall went down.
“Captain Hoshi?”
“Where are they going? I'd like to head in that direction. I am going to head in that direction,” she corrected herself.
“Captain, may I remind you that you have been paid to carry passengers to Antigua?” He asked. The captain blinked then her eyes narrowed. He nodded. She seemed a bit put out over that reminder. “Of course if you'd like, I can take them off your hands. For a portion of the ticket prices I'd already paid you,” he offered her maliciously. “I'm sure Commander Sprite can prorate it for you,” he said.
“No, that um, won't be necessary,” she declined.
He waited, but she didn't say anything more. “I hope you can pick up additional passengers in Antigua. I am certain you'll get all sorts of cargo with Antigua Prime there stocked filled with newly manufactured goods,” he said, offering her a bone. She blinked at him. “And of course they'll need new markets,” he said.