by Chris Hechtl
The Veraxin clacked again in amusement. “I can't pull anything over on you, can I?” He asked. Irons snorted softly. “Okay, I want my ship to join your fleet,” he said, swirling his glass slightly.
The admiral frowned and then nodded. “Can you keep up?”
“We can if you give us a boost,” the Veraxin replied smoothly.
“Right. Well, I don't see the harm,” Irons replied as he took a seat. He indicated the chair opposite him. As the Veraxin touched it the seat changed shape into a saddle shape, more conforming to his species.
“Nice,” the Veraxin admired. “I wish I had a few of these on my ship,” he said.
“That can be arranged,” the admiral said.
“And you make and deliver furniture too?” The Veraxin asked.
“I've been finding a need to do a lot of things lately,” the admiral chuckled.
They took the time to have a brief chat to exchange stories as they drank their rum. For the admiral it felt good to unwind and catch up with an old acquaintance. He hadn't known the captain well in Antigua, but still. Near the end he started to feel the bug out for information on any contacts he had in that system. Unfortunately it became clear to him that the bug didn't have many.
...*...*...*...*...
Once he assigned a midshipman to give the visitors a brief tour of the vessel he checked in with CIC. The fighters had returned to the barn and were being serviced. No other signs of ships were in the system, though there had been recent travel.
“We already know about this,” the admiral said, pointing to the tracks CIC painted on his plot. The CPO was making a big deal out of recent departure of ships through the star system to the Triang jump point. Irons had to remind himself that Dylard was good, but he'd only been recently promoted. He could be jumping at shadows he thought. Unlikely, but still possible. There had been several times in his career where he'd seen a newly promoted person, or even just someone bored get a bit too eager and jump to conclusions they shouldn't have drawn from thin or non-existing evidence.
“But sir, someone was hightailing it through here!” the rating said doggedly. He pointed stubbornly to the track hovering in front of them. “See here? The speed changes abruptly.” A window appeared near the point showing a line graph of the increase in emissions. “You can tell because the mix changes. Now, if we estimate where that was in comparison to other events ...” He put up another plot, this one on the B-452c jump point. “You see, sir? Whoever was going through the system in the convoy must have picked up the new ships and then picked up speed in response.”
The admiral nodded as he studied the plot. “Apparently so. Either they were in a hurry to get somewhere ...”
“Or someone was chasing them. The latest convoy out of Pyrax?” Chief Petty Officer Oscar Dylard asked carefully as he pointed to the first track. “We are pretty certain this second group are Horathians, sir,” the Chief cautioned. “At least 70 percent sure.”
“Not a pleasant thought, but one we have to consider. And since Horatio has been sending convoys through this space, it could indeed be our people being chased,” the admiral replied with a tight nod.
“Or our people chasing someone else, sir. We sure don't know. And the spy satellites are gone here so we can't get a fingerprint of any of the ships. Since the ion trails are practically on top of each other we can't get a hard count on them either, sir,” Lobsterman reported with a hint of disgust in his tone.
“Analysis of their exhaust didn't get us anywhere closer to nailing down numbers and type?” Irons asked, turning an inquiring eye on the chief.
The chief exhaled deeply as he shook his head. “No sir. We have to account for some ships having different engines, or one out of tune, or other variables. That double and triple thinking tends to send everything spiraling into guess work.”
“Which is of no use to us. Well, keep on it.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
...*...*...*...*...
Once they had their brief taste of action they passed through the Briev system with little more to note for it. There was a bit of grumbling over people not getting a chance for shore leave, but when Sprite presented the Admiral's misadventure there on the ship's news channel, and that the planet was allying itself with the Horathian's, she neatly squashed any lingering resentment.
However she may have been a bit too good at laying out her case; the news had changed the mood of the crew to one of malice. A few crew members and a couple marines suggested bombing the planet back into the Stone Age. When the admiral got word he shook his head. “Not going to happen. The people are stuck in a rut down there. For the peasants, it's not their fault.” He said in a weekly address to the fleet. “I can't blame them, but I can't really sympathize too much either. They made their bed yes. Hopefully, someone gets the balls up to do something about their leadership and culture.”
“We also do not have time to linger here. We need to catch up to Convoy 3 and relieve if it necessary. Our Intel states that another fleet is tracking it, this one came from Kathy's World. You and I both know that is bad. We'll get around to settling Briev once and for all eventually folks, but not today. That is all,” he said as he cut the channel.
“As you said, not your problem, Admiral. I did note something else though,” Sprite said.
“Oh?” the admiral asked mildly as he sat back on the couch. “What?”
“Something's missing,” Sprite said. She highlighted the orbital track that the warning beacon he'd deployed while he'd been on Destiny was missing. “It has either been picked up for scavenging or destroyed, Admiral,” Sprite said as she brought the problem to his attention.
“Launch another,” the Admiral said absently.”Put one more near each jump point. Keep the recon satellites stealthy though,” he ordered.
“Interestingly, we received an invite from the planet. Declined of course,” Sprite said, sounding like she was building up to something.
“Definitely,” Irons growled. “Wait,” he paused with a deeper frown. “How did they know we were here?”
“Some of your broadcasts were Omni directional, Admiral. They picked them up apparently,” Sprite replied.
Irons grunted, this time in irritation.
“The invitation was dropped after a day. Apparently they realized you were snubbing them or knew about the warning satellite,” Sprite replied. “And they were less than thrilled when they found out for certain who was leading this motley lot,” Sprite said, clearly amused.
Irons looked up and then snorted. “Really?”
“Yes. Apparently the Queen has gotten over her infatuation with you. She has charges against you, but they didn't mention any charges for regicide.”
“I'm not going to mention it if they don't,” Irons said. “And I suggest you leave sleeping dogs alone, Commander.”
“So noted, Admiral.”
Chapter 15
Sprite held a series of training exercises with individual crew members, departments and one time with most of the ship's company. She focused the lesson plan on convoy defense or rescue.
The AI also organized several parties with the bosun. Several birthdays falling on the same day allowed the ship's company to unwind a bit. It was a nice but brief respite before the training and day-to-day running of the ship returned the following morning.
...*...*...*...*...
Paul Revere made good time to Pyrax, jumping the last 22.5 light years in just under four weeks. She arrived to find the gunship Maya on picket duty. She flashed her orders and then transmitted a heads up to the admiralty house as well as a copy to San Diego.
Captain Horatio Logan received the orders and grinned. John had made good time, even if he was a bit off the anticipated schedule Horatio's staff had planned on. Still, he was on track for Antigua as planned. The change of route was a surprise. So was having Kathy's World free and in their corner.
The bad news was that a bunch of ships had moved through B452c and Centennial. The news abou
t Firefly's battle and Kiev 221's probable destruction was troubling. He'd have to do something about that. But first he needed to reinforce the Gaston picket. He didn't want Firefly to jump in and get hammered. And they couldn't afford to let the star system fall to the pirates.
That also put a certain spin on Prometheus as well, he thought. He'd have to look into that. And didn't John set up a navy medical group on Epsilon Triangula? He frowned thoughtfully then scowled as he pulled the files up. He swore again. Well, they could be okay ... or not. He'd have to check or have someone else check for him.
“Monty, there is a crap load of stuff for you to go through. I need you to hit it now so drop whatever you're doing,” he ordered, sending out the text order.
“Aye sir.”
“Get OPS to prep some ships for movement. The admiral's going to need more ships. Fuentes is in transit, but he'll need more than that,” he growled. “We need a threat assessment on ET and the other star systems. Then prep some people for movement. I'll need you to correlate what the admiral just sent in with what you've gotten from our prisoners and other Intel resources. I'm afraid of what you'll find, but we need to know. After that, I'll call a staff meeting. We need to go through these orders carefully and see what we can do with what we've got.”
“Aye aye, sir. And the courier?”
“Give the crew liberty; they damn well earned it. Get the ship in dock, have her serviced pronto. I think we'll be needing her soon enough.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
Horatio slapped his hands together and smiled grimly. Things were starting to come together. He just hoped it wasn't too late.
...*...*...*...*...
The fleet jumped the 6.5 light years in the high octaves of Beta band, taking 6 .4 weeks to get to their destination. The jumps were becoming routine the admiral thought, which was a good thing. Even the noobs had settled in and were responding like veterans. They still had a lot of rough edges, but he was proud of them. Fortunately at their high speed the jumps were short. He could just imagine how they'd go if they were divested of the fleet train. He would have been in Antigua by now he thought.
He estimated that Paul Revere should be in Pyrax within seven weeks of their departure from the fleet. Since she had traveled in the high octaves of gamma band. That meant Horatio should have his report and should have started acting on it. A fourth convoy should be on the move within days, along with activity with all the other orders he'd tucked away in the courier's databanks. Delegates from the various neighboring worlds were going to be headed to Antigua soon. Hopefully he was right about Governor Randall. Otherwise he was going to have a lot of egg on his face.
He checked the countdown clock. Another fifteen, no fourteen and a half minutes and they would be in Triang, one step closer to Antigua and the real beginning of the rebirth of the Federation.
...*...*...*...*...
The moment the fleet stabilized in Triang space recon probes were launched. Meia kicked out the recon satellite behind them on her own initiative. It would keep a watchful eye on the jump point once they departed it. Once their long range sensors stabilized from jump shock they were focused intently on the drama unfolding a full two AU away from them.
“It's Convoy 3, sir,” Lobsterman said subdued. “They are in trouble.”
“I can see that,” the admiral murmured. Trouble was putting it lightly. The naval convoy was made up of two warship escorts consisting of what had to be a destroyer and a corvette or a frigate based on the mass and neutrino readings CIC was tentatively reporting. They were covering four lumbering freighters, interposing themselves like dolphins between the helpless fat whales and the sharks in the system. Unfortunately there were a lot of sharks. They were also faster than the slow freighters; the pirates had gotten around the convoy with light forces and occupied the jump points to Senka and Antigua. The corvettes at each jump point had kicked out mines to close off the jump point, or so he assumed. It was the only reason the convoy hadn't tried to run the gauntlet anyway he thought. They didn't have a picket on the Briev jump point however.
A third force was chasing the convoy. They were the beaters, they were made up of a pair of destroyers at their heart, two frigates, and another corvette out on point ahead of them. He watched the plot settle and another contact was posted. They had apparently destroyed or crippled one corvette, though CIC wasn't certain who it belonged to. CIC also identified the friendly smaller ship as a corvette not a frigate.
The pirates were trying to pin the convoy down, but the convoy was keeping them at a distance, maneuvering around the system in a cat or mouse game. The convoy had only the two escorts though, and from the readings both of them were damaged. Both were gallantly putting themselves between the unarmed convoy and the raiders however.
“Admiral, they may have a ship with hyperdrive or node damage,” Sprite warned. The destroyer and one of the freighters was trailing a thin line of debris and gases. “That would explain why they didn't run the gauntlet.”
“Or they didn't want to be pinned against the jump point and chewed up while they slowed down to jump and their hyperdrives spooled up,” Lobsterman said. “Somehow I don't remember this in any of the scenarios you created, Commander,” the ship AI said.
“I'll add it to the list,” Sprite replied dryly.
“I'm surprised they haven't just run back here,” Meia said. She frowned as the plot changed slightly. “I believe we've been noticed, Admiral,” she warned.
“The convoy might not have the fuel to return to Agnosta,” Lobsterman stated. “Or again, potential drive damage. The commander may not be ready to sacrifice a ship,” he said flatly.
“Fighters, sir,” CIC said from the overhead. Several were painted on the HUD. Two were retreating from the convoy back to the pirates. Another was drifting behind them.
“Update the treat assessment,” Meia said in a cool professional tone. “We don't have much more than mass readings at this distance. It's not enough to run in the warbook,” she warned.
“They are bleeding the convoy. Keeping them off balance with long range strikes,” the admiral murmured. “Trying to drive them?” he asked.
“We need to do something soon,” Sprite said. “If we don't both sides will know something is up.”
“Can we take them?” Mia asked, looking up from her station.
“We can. The question is, how many?” The admiral said. “I want them all,” he growled, eyes glittering. He turned to the communication's rating. “Send the Horathian's our fake Rico IFF. Meanwhile, set up an encrypted laser onto the destroyer escorting the convoy. Do we know who it is?”
“It's an Arboth class, Admiral. CIC is identifying it as Xavier,” Meia reported, looking up and over her shoulder to him briefly. She highlighted the information on his personal screen. “CIC doesn't recognize the corvette. She's an Apollo class though,” Meia stated.
“Good to know,” the admiral replied with a curt nod. “Keep me posted.”
“Why not hit the convoy with a tachyon burst, Admiral?” Sprite asked him through his HUD.
The admiral frowned, then tapped out a text reply. “Because I don't know if the enemy has it too. I don't want to give the game away,” he said. He cleared his throat, then looked at the rating as he came to a decision. “Order the pirates to drive the convoy to us,” he said. “Then order Xavier to let them drive them towards us, but then to move off on a course ...” he frowned as his fingers flicked working out a course. “Make it towards the Senka jump point,” he said.
“Senka not Antigua, Admiral?” Meia asked, looking up.
“The Senka picket is the one that is most likely going to get away once we raise our flag and engage,” the admiral replied. “Not that they have very many places to go. But I want this to be a clean sweep. The Antigua picket will be pinned and will have to run to the Senka point as well or try to get past us to the Briev jump point.”
“I see, sir. Thank you for explaining,” the tactical officer replie
d with a nod.
“Prepare to launch fighters on our port side. It's in shadow to the enemy fleet. I want the fighters to go into stealth immediately then head to the Senka jump point.”
“All the fighters, sir?” Meia asked hopefully.
“All but yours, Lieutenant,” the admiral replied, looking at her. She deflated noticeably. “I need you here. Dita will have to carry the squadron,” he said.
“Aye aye, sir,” she said with a nod.
...*...*...*...*...
For nearly a day the ploy seemed to work. He put some distance between their own fleet train which he had left behind at the jump point and his warships. He didn't want to be caught trying to protect them while attacking the pirates. He left behind half of his defense and offensive drones and a third of his missile pods for their self-protection. Hopefully they wouldn't need them.
“They aren't buying it, Admiral,” Sprite warned him several hours later. “Vocal stress analysis in the response says they are highly doubtful,” she warned. She'd kept the conversations brief and garbled to keep the enemy guessing. Apparently that attempt at shrouding her identity had backfired. Someone over there was as suspicious as hell.
“Understood. Well, it was a thought,” the admiral said with a shrug. They weren't going to come in fat, dumb, and happy. So be it, he thought. They'd just do it the hard way. Hard for the pirates, he thought with a mental baring of teeth.
“Are we going to capture them, Admiral?”
“I'd like to do so, but I'm not going to risk our people any more than necessary to do it. I'm perfectly happy blowing them into tiny pieces,” the admiral said.
“That's a switch,” Sprite replied, affecting surprise at his change in attitude.
Irons snorted. “That's because we can always build more ships, Commander. Trained people are a lot harder to replace,” he said softly. She nodded.