Ghosts from the Past (The Wandering engineer Book 7)

by Chris Hechtl

  The next drill was to be a bit more complicated than any of the individual engagements. It was going to be the most complex and rigorous they had attempted. It was a jump point defense drill in Antigua space. She was careful to set it up so they could fight it and win if they fought smart. She based it on what the admiral had available in the fleet, the ships left behind in the system, and estimates of what Captain Logan had sent in with the convoys.

  She did throw him a bone; she gave each of the support ship crews in the convoy a hand at command of a warship. Those with the most experience in ship handling and the best scores got the best ships, usually a frigate or tin can.

  “Are we ready for this?” The admiral asked.

  “Yes, Admiral,” Lobsterman reported. “It should be interesting to be on the defensive this time, defending a star system. I still think we should be on the offense, you know, simulating hitting the enemy's territory, but this at least should be a learning experience,” he said.

  “A learning experience he says,” Mia said, shaking her head. She glanced at her boss and then the admiral. “Something tells me I'm going to get quite a workout, sir,” she said.

  Meia grimaced. She wanted to be in the fighter wing but had been denied. She was starting to regret taking on the senior tactical officer's position.

  “And here we go, in ten,” Sprite said, putting a counter up on every monitor.

  “Wait, we're doing a defense of a system we barely know? Wouldn't the admiral have made more stuff you know?” Mia said desperately.

  “Too late for that now,” Sprite said as the counter hit zero. “Primary bridge has control,” she intoned. “CIC is on board. Plot stabilizing,” she said as the simulation finished loading and began.

  “Sir! A large fleet presence has just jumped into the Triang jump point!” CIC reported. The rating didn't sound anxious, more excited.

  “We're a million kilometers out, Admiral; IFF is pinging now,” Lobsterman intoned, voice going flat.

  “Shouldn't we be …” Mia cut herself off when Meia gave her a dirty look and then checked the status boards of the weapons drones and defensive drones, decoys and shoals of missile pods, weapon platforms, and mines. “According to Defcon 2 protocol I've sent the warning to all remote platforms,” she reported.

  Meia nodded.

  “Sir, we've got twenty plus ships incoming. The plot is still stabilizing; we've got a lot of long range sensor interference due to the emergence. The largest has been tentatively identified as a pair of battle cruisers, sir, but that's not conclusive,” CIC reported.

  Irons nodded. There had to be a twist somewhere. He knew Sprite; she wouldn't use just the two ships. “Very well. IFF?”

  “Horathian ident signatures, sir,” the rating reported. “Sir, the smaller ships are englobing the capital ships in a defensive picket. Weapons fire has been reported. They are attempting to clear the minefields to get a channel to pass through,” he said.

  “Go to Defcon 1. Order the mines to go in. Hold back the reserve platforms but set up the shot for the primary and secondary platforms,” the admiral ordered.

  “Enemy picket is forming into a wedge, sir. They are firing mine clearing missiles into the minefield,” CIC reported. Irons eyes cut to the general plot and then nodded. They were indeed cutting a channel, which was classic. But only one channel, which meant he could focus on that one place they intended to come out, not have to divide his forces to cover multiple threat axis. Good.

  “Plot me where that channel is going to exit the minefield. Get the weapons platforms on that axis to fire on the lead ships. We'll grind them away one by one like a glacier if we have to,” he ordered.

  “Aye, sir ...”

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The virtual battle went a long way to get the admiral to settle down again. It also woke up the crew to the fact that they really had something that they'd knitted together into a proper well-oiled machine. That they could stand up to ships, even groups of ships that were in the same class as they were with a good chance of survival. When her twist had hit, the second wave this time with a dreadnaught at the center, they hadn't panicked at all. They'd buckled down and handled the fight like the professionals she'd expected. They'd been chewed up, but they'd won the day.

  They had proven a lot. That even on the defense they could make the enemy pay in blood for every kilometer of real estate he tried to seize. Sprite judged the exercise a rousing success.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  “Just whose idea was it to have chili the other night, Commander?” the admiral asked mildly after they had the latest exercise critique. It had gone remarkably well, brutal, but it had gone in their favor. It was a feather in everyone's cap that they'd achieved the seemingly impossible, broken the back of Sprite's phantom juggernaut. Now they needed to do that for real he thought. He eyed the bowl in front of him suspiciously, then his eyes cut to the retreating cook. Sprite had gotten her way with her, much to his annoyance. But she still wasn't off the hook he thought, eyes cutting to her virtual avatar on his HUD.

  “I forget, Admiral,” Sprite said innocently.

  “You're an AI, you can't forget,” he reminded her. He knew that she knew that he knew who was really at fault. “You really are getting a little too full of yourself aren't you? Feeling a bit big for your britches, Commander?”

  “The expression on your face was worth all the headache you've put me through in the past couple of months,” the AI retorted. “Besides, you are so used to a bland diet, live a little!”

  “Right,” he drawled. “Of course it's not your taste buds and digestive track that are thinking nasty things right now,” he replied.

  “They aren't thinking anything at all; they are just nerve endings,” she said, taking her turn to remind him of the obvious. “And that stopped after the first day.”

  “Right,” he drawled. “It only hurt like hell every time I breathed,” he said, inhaling and exhaling noisily. She chuckled. She knew he wasn't really mad at her. More amused now that he'd had time to reflect on her prank.

  “Well, if this turns out to be hot in anyway, you young lady are going to be in hack. I'll find some shit duty for you to do,” he warned.

  “My heart quivers in fear, Admiral,” she said mildly.

  “It'd better,” he growled, picking up the spoon. “And she'd better not have used the Thai spices this time,” he growled softly under his breath as he took a spoonful. He held it up to his lips and blew the steam off. Sprite chuckled maliciously as he waited. His hesitancy was an added bonus she judged.

  “...*...*...*...*...

  When they got to the jump point the admiral ordered another recon satellite to be deployed.

  “Why?” Sprite asked. “We don't have a lot of them in inventory, Admiral,” she reminded him.

  “Humor me,” he said tightly.

  She nodded. “Aye aye, sir, order sent. I'm setting up the programming package now. Anything to add?” She asked dutifully. She wasn't sure she liked it when he got this way. Something was eating at him, she could tell. He needed to get it off his chest.

  “Yes, keep it stealthy. It is only to report when pinged by a fleet trigger,” he ordered.

  “Done and done,” she said a second later.

  “Then launch it. Time to jump?”

  “Five minutes, Admiral,” Ariel reported.

  He nodded to her as she put the countdown clock up on the main screen as well as his number two screen. “Very well.”

  Chapter 14

  The fleet jumped the 8.2 light years for Briev, spending 7.8 weeks in hyper. “They seem to be getting the hang of this,” Sprite observed with an air of approval.

  “They'd better be. They've had enough practice,” the admiral replied dryly. They were full up across the board on hardware for the first time. They had finished constructing the last shuttle yesterday, and it had tested out on the stand perfectly. They still needed to break her in outside the ship, but that would happen
soon enough.

  “Never enough practice, Admiral,” Sprite reminded him.

  “What are you up to now, another drill?” He asked. She'd done a good job keeping the crew at peak performance and he knew she'd been running sims in the flag bridge's computers, anticipating their exit from hyper. If it was anything like the last all ship fleet exercise it would be interesting.

  “And you know me so well,” she teased with a wicked knowing grin.

  “Commander, have you ever remembered the story about the wolf?” He asked her, raising an eyebrow.

  “Wolf?” Sprite asked innocently. “Oh, red riding hood?” She asked innocently.

  “I was thinking the boy who cried wolf myself,” he replied with a mournful shake of his head.

  “But he was right in the end,” she reminded him.

  “And no one believed him,” the admiral retorted. “Don't get so full of yourself; you dull people and make them peak too early. And weren't you the one that reminded me about downtime?” he demanded.

  “Um ...”

  “Yes, exactly, Commander. Think about it. We don't need people tense all the time.”

  “Aye aye, sir. I'll try to restrain my enthusiasm.”

  “Please do,” he said, returning his attention to the report he had been reading on the tablet in his hand.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  A day before the fleet's emergence in Briev another ship emerged in Agnosta space. She immediately broadcast her IFF to the picket, then her orders.

  The frigate's Rose and Providence did a quick consult and then allowed the ship to go on her way.

  Unfortunately they didn't have a tachyon transceiver so they couldn't warn the planet of Paul Revere's arrival or mission. They had to rely on light speed transmission. Removing Xavier from the defensive picket was an oversight that had yet to be rectified. Captain Bailey of Providence had twice put in a request to rectify the problem; the planet needed all the warning it could get if the shit hit the fan. So far she hadn't had much luck getting anywhere with the powers that be. She put in a second request into the courier's data banks and uploaded all her logs before the ship was out of easy transmission range.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  Lieutenant Colonel Jersey Forth got the news of the courier's arrival and her intended course. He downloaded the data from the net that the ship had uploaded to him; there was a lot there to go over. Before he could answer anything, he uploaded his logs and order to the courier. Then he sat down and started reading. Apparently this “Captain Gustov” had a lot to say. He sounded like a good marine; he'd have to meet him sometime though.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  The admiral had another flashback nightmare after hearing the daily report that Bounty's cyborg dog had died from a seizure. Apparently the medics had been heart broken by the loss but resigned to it. This time while dreaming he was in a horrid tank, one he'd been in all too often. He'd spent a lot of time inside regen tanks over the course of his career, too much in his opinion. Most of the time he'd been sedated. But there had been the one time, the last time he'd been in a tank on Lemnos station.

  It started briefly, just him on his back looking up as doctors talked over him. His vision was blurry, it swam, moving in and out with his heartbeat. It didn't make sense, he knew he was hurt but he should have been in a stasis pod. He couldn't make sense of what they were saying and after a brief time he passed out.

  When he regained consciousness again he felt a floating sensation. He was in zero G or in a tank. He felt a mask on his face, and as his vision started to return, he noted the curvature of glass around him. That told him a tank was around him, or he was in a tank. He wasn't thinking clearly he realized.

  Only his left eye worked; the right was dark. His eye darted about to see the lab around him. Everything was tinged in green. It didn't make sense; his memory was foggy. He saw bubbles drift nearby, upward. His eye followed them up to the top of the tank where he saw a coupling sucking them off. There was no sound, and he could barely move. His body had a lethargic feeling. Tubes were everywhere; he followed the clear ones down until they disappeared behind him or into his right shoulder and chest. He hated the helpless feeling. He felt things crawling on him. He looked down and screamed into the mask when he saw the little that remained of his broken body. He thrashed, but there was little left of him to thrash with.

  “Doctor Beir, brain activity is spiking. Respiration is increasing,” a nurse said. She turned to peer into the tank and then swore. “Sir! He's awake!”

  “What?” the blue shrouded doctor said. “That's insane! He can't be! He's sedated!” He frowned, and peered into the tank as well. The admiral's eye met his for a moment.

  “You are seeing things, Vanessa,” the neochimp snarled. He took out a pocket light and flashed it into the admiral's eye. “See?” His iris immediately dilated, and he looked away. “Shit!”

  Immediately the doctor turned away and rushed to his station. He pulled up the patient's brain waves and swore viciously. “He is awake! What the hell happened?”

  “He's not sedated; he's been under a sleep inducer. Doctor Sumol'nk ordered it since we couldn't get the dosage right with the chemicals due to the tissue loss,” the nurse said, sounding concerned. Irons barely heard her; he was still trying to move. He got enough of a glimpse down to see most of his torso was gone. His left arm was there, but it too had been ravaged. He tried to kick and only succeeded to move weakly. He didn't feel pain, which was weird.

  “He's definitely awake. I warned you bringing him up to this level could jeopardize the project!” a voice snarled.

  “Quick, increase his dopamine levels!” the chimp said, pointing at the nurse urgently. “Suppress his urge to panic before he seizes or goes catatonic with madness,” he said, voice rising to a near shriek. He turned to another nurse. “Shelly! Talk to him.”

  “Me?!?” the woman asked in disbelief.

  “Yes you! Do it,” the doctor said, physically turning her to face the tube. “He needs to hear a calm voice to get him to relax. I need to finish mapping his motor cortex responses while Vanessa assists me or this won't work. Stall him. Try to keep him calm. We can't lose him like we lost the others ...”

  “Want to talk about it?” Sprite asked carefully when he woke with a jerk gasping.

  He paused, then grunted. “I ... not really.” He threw the blanket off. One hand touched his right eye. He looked at it and then away.

  “You've been having these nightmares a lot lately,” Sprite observed quietly.

  “It's normal for people to lose sleep over a decision they don't like, Commander,” Irons said gruffly, shouldering his t-shirt on. He ducked his head to get through the neckhole.

  “I have this puckered feeling, the helpless feeling I hate. Sometimes I can't shake it,” the admiral said.

  “So, what is your solution?” She asked as he finished getting dressed.

  “What else? Bust my ass doing something else until I get so wrapped up I temporarily forget. Even if I am sorry and sore afterward,” the admiral replied. “And take the frustration out on something or someone else,” he said with a grim smile. “I'll be in the dojo if anyone needs me,” he said.

  “I'll adjust your schedule,” Sprite replied with a nod. “And alert medical,” she said to the other AI.

  ...*...*...*...*...

  As the fleet exited hyper in the outskirts of the Briev star system the fleet spotted a Manta class frigate that was busy chasing Lieandra half an AU out from them across the solar system.

  “That freighter is running for her life,” April observed softly.

  “Launch the ready fighters,” the admiral ordered, shooting Meia a look. She didn't quite hide the pang of annoyance at being left out to watch from the sidelines but she didn't argue either.

  “Fighters away, sir,” Meia said a moment later.

  Irons nodded. “It looks like you were right, Commander,” he said as soon as the plot stabilized. He noted the nervous
looks from some of his bridge staff. They were excited but nervous over the ship. A frigate was no match for Maine, however.

  “Should we play possum again, Admiral? Pretend we're Horathian?” Sprite asked carefully.

  “No. It's time they know what they are dealing with,” the admiral said coldly. “Let's put the fear of us into them.” That sparked a bit of cheering on the bridge.

  Once the six fighters launched they split into pairs and circled between the frigate and the fleet pinning it against the warships. The fourteen civilian ships hung back while the six warships spread out in a net. No matter which direction the frigate turned it would encounter at least one of them slowing it down with precision fire.

  “Nowhere to go,” the ship's AI murmured. “And they have to be low on fuel. They didn't refuel in Kathy's World or B-452C, we would have seen that. So they have to be on empty.”

  “I think they are. Otherwise they would have run for the Triang jump. Anything from Lieandra?” He didn't ask about the frigate. She had immediately changed course to avoid them. She'd broken off her pursuit of the freighter and had gone to ground, trying to make a run for the outer system and doubtful safety among the sparse Oort cloud. Her captain had come to the proper conclusion right off he thought. If she got far enough out of range of his long range sensors she could step down her drive and reactor and hide. Space was vast; they could easily loose her if lady luck was against them.

  “We're still trying to punch a signal through to them, sir. There is a lot of solar activity so I'm not getting much luck. It will be some time before we hear anything back, if at all. But we did just get something back from Bravo flight a moment ago, sir,” Lobsterman reported. “They have been picking up an encrypted transmission. It's between the frigate and the planet.”

  The admiral raised an eyebrow. “Oh?” Bravo flight was a pair of Cobras between the planet and the frigate. No, he paused to check the geometry. No they weren't. That meant the ship and planet were broadcasting on a rather broad direction. Unfortunately they weren't picking it up directly.