Spalding blinked in surprise. “Careful what you say over an open com-line. Even if it's encrypted, half the fleet could break in and start listening to you. Hush, you yard-based engineer, before you give the game away without knowing it,” he said quickly.
“Don’t you dare mention games to me,” she humphed loudly, “you’re the one playing games and this time your chickens have come home to roost.”
A blinking red light lit on the truncated communication console in front of the engineer.
“Sorry, Glenda, but the Admiral’s calling on the other line. We’ll have to pick this up when I’m get back to the yard,” Spalding said quickly while moving to cut the channel.
“This isn’t over with,” warned the Yard manager moments before disappearing from the screen.
The old engineer barely had time to breathe a sigh of relief as Glenda’s scowling face disappeared from the screen when it was immediately replaced by a thunderous looking Admiral.
“What the deuce?” Spalding asked, rearing back.
“Just helping out,” Shepherd said, covering his mouth with a hand but his eyes gleamed in a way that let the experienced engineer know who exactly it was that had sandbagged him. Apparently the navigator was still raw about being knocked in the head.
“Commander Spalding, report,” Admiral Montagne said looking down his flat, Royalistic nose at the old Engineer.
Spalding quickly braced to attention. “Mission accomplished, Sir. Everything’s right as rain over here,” the Chief Engineer hesitated, “except for a few minor hiccoughs along the way, of course, it’s all taken care of.”
“Minor hiccoughs? My top engineer disappears for a week and then comes limping back home in a captured cutter and you want to tell me that’s a minor hiccough? Where are my Spindles?!” the little Admiral asked sharply.
“They're right where we left them,” Spalding reassured him quickly, “all we have to do is go and get the jump fuel and power they need and they should be back in Gambit in no time.”
“Should?” Jason Montagne asked, his voice lowering dangerously. Spalding recognized the signs of a brewing explosion in the making from his time serving with Jean Luc. Now there was a captain who knew how to motivate his crew! “Am I boring you, Commander?” asked the Little Admiral.
“What? No-no-no nothing of the sort,” Spalding said gruffly, “like I said, it shouldn’t be a problem getting those Spindles back home and if there is I’m sure I can figure out what went wrong. I mean it was supposed to have enough fuel for another jump, but we only made it partway before things stopped working. But don’t worry, old Spalding’s on the case and we know right where we left them. The odds of someone finding them before we retrieve them is so low it would be like trying to find a needle in a haystack.”
A vein had started throbbing on the side of the Admiral’s head. “Given my luck so far, that does nothing to reassure me,” said the Admiral. “We will continue this discussion in my office. Come here directly. Do not pass 'Go,' do not collect a 100 credits. Get over here—now,” ordered Jason Montagne.
“Of course, Sir,” Spalding said loyally and then frowned, “although, everything considered, we might need a wee bit of help. Part of the reason we’re so late is the cutter’s down to only one normal space engine.”
“I’ll have one of the ships there give you a tow. Montagne out,” said the Little Admiral.
“Right, Sir,” muttered the Engineer.
Beside him, the shanghaied navigator hardly even tried to hide his snickering.
“You think this is some kind of laughing matter, eh? Do you have any idea what is at stake here?” Spalding demanded, rounding on the jubilant younger man.
“All I know is what goes around has finally come around, and it’s good to see,” Shepherd said happily.
“You know, lad, there’s a reason you were selected for this mission. If I were you I’d be doing everything I could to make sure you aren’t selected again when navigation duty comes up,” Spalding warned.
“Oh, blow it out your exhaust port; we both know it doesn’t matter what I do, you’ll do whatever you want and if that means you need a navigator again you wouldn’t hesitate to grab me off the street,” said Shepherd.
“Exhaust port? It looks like familiarity really does breed contempt!” Spalding glared.
“I do my duty. If that makes you mad then so be it,” shot back the Navigator.
“Yuck it up while you can because the worm turns, and when it does I’ll be there,” said Spalding.
Shepherd blanched. “I’m a combat veteran,” the Navigator shot back, “I’ve faced worse!” He tried to put a fierce face on it but his uncertainty was obvious.
Spalding snorted. “You did your duty, sure. But when you’ve had as much resting on your shoulders as I had then we can talk again,” he said.
Chapter 27: Bluetooth’s Momentum
“Thank you, Governor, for your kind words. Unlike that hypocrite Jason Montagne who ran and hid in the safety of his new home world, we of the Confederation Fleet and Sector 25 Sector Guard serve the new Spineward based Grand Assembly,” said Bluetooth in a serious voice. “Speaker Isaak personally dispatched us to drive out these Imperial butchers from our beloved worlds and as soon as you’ve set your world in order we’d like to invite you to send a representative to the new assembly,” he continued with a smile.
“That’s very self sacrificing of you and your Speaker, Bluetooth,” said the Governor, running a hand over his balding head with a look of relief on his face.
“Think nothing of it, Governor. The Guard and the Fleet are here to help you. Others might shirk at the task and say it’s too expensive to field a flotilla the size of ours so far from our current fleet bases, but when it comes to freeing the people of our region from the Imperial grip of the Reclamation Fleet the Speaker and I feel no expense is too high!” said Bluetooth.
“My people and I will not forget this, Rear Admiral, you have my word,” said the Governor.
“I’m glad we could be of service,” Bluetooth said magnanimously, “but if that will be all, I need to get back to the business of managing this Flotilla. Remember: if you designate a provisional representative to our new Spineward Sectors based assembly, you can either send him to the new mobile capitol by civilian freighter or, if he or she is willing to travel light, there’s room for the ambassador and a small staff of one or two people on the next courier I’m sending home.”
“I’ll be sure to take you up on that,” said the Governor.
“We’ve cleared almost three quarters of this Sector and fighting for freedom is a busy job. I need to get going, Sir,” Bluetooth said, reaching for the button to end the call.
The Governor quickly cleared his throat. “Speaking of the Reclamation Fleet and liberating worlds, it just so happens that after all the help you’ve given our world, we might just be able to help you in turn,” the balding politician spoke quickly.
Bluetooth frowned. “Not that I want to seem ungrateful for the offer but I’m afraid the Fleet is in no condition to set up any additional bases or supply dumps in your system at this time. Maybe in the future after your people have had time to speak with the armed services committee…” Bluetooth said, leaning back.
The governor pursed his lips. “While our world would certainly appreciate the creation of such facilities and be more than willing to offer you significant concessions for such a base, that wasn’t what I was referring to,” the politician denied.
“Then…?” Bluetooth was perplexed.
“I hear from my SDF Commanders that your people are already planning the campaign in Sector 27 and you’ve been asking around about any surviving warships we might have hidden or be able to spare,” said the System Governor.
“Yes, that Destroyer of yours that mutinied when we arrived would be useful in our upcoming campaign. I realize of course that as your only surviving defense you might not want to space it,” agreed Bluetooth impatiently.
“I think you misunderstand. You see, one of our surviving military officers disguised himself as a common spacer and survived the purge of her fellow officers when the Reclamation Fleet took over our SDF, small as it is and was. During her time in their service she had the chance to make a few contacts. Contacts which we have since expanded upon,” advised the Governor.
Bluetooth leaned forward, “Tell me more.”
“Using our officer as a go between, our Provincial Bureau of Intelligence, or PBI, managed a number of stealth contacts with other worlds from our sector, Sector 26, and from Sector 27. The worlds in 27 indicated to us, before you arrived, that they are ready to rise up in rebellion against the weakened Rim Fleet and that a number of worlds have already overthrown their Imperial task masters,” said the Governor. “I have a list,” he added.
“This is exceptional news! If true this could have even further ranging implications that even you know,” the Rear Admiral said, his eyes widening in surprise.
Looking like the cat that just ate the pigeon, the Governor silently preened. “PBI has managed quite a coup,” he agreed after a minute, “normally it would be our Foreign Affairs Service that manages such things but in the recent troubles the Provincial Bureau really stepped up to the plate,” he said.
The Rear Admiral could see where this was going, but with the news he was hearing he didn’t really care. “If you could share with me that list and have some of your agents brief my officers, my Flotilla would really appreciate it. And I’m sure that when I get back home I could put a good word in for you with Speaker Isaak,” said Bluetooth.
“I couldn’t ask for more,” the Governor said with relief.
Chapter 28: The Oncoming Storm
After a grueling series of rapid transits that tested the tempers of men promised months of R&R after bitter fighting on the Front, the two Imperial fleets under the command of Admiral Magnus Davenport reached the far side of the Overton Expanse.
But reaching the edge of the Expanse wasn’t the only noteworthy event that happened, because waiting for them at the edge of the Expanse was a large series of data packets.
“You’ll need to use your personal encryption keys, Sir,” reminded his Fleet Intelligence Officer.
“Thank you for the reminder but I’m already aware, Jetson,” said Magnus.
Looking over the reports, Magnus frowned and pondered his options before issuing orders for the Reclamation Fleet to stop retreating and proceed with the counterattack into Sector 26. At the same time he reaffirmed Rear Admiral Norfolk as the temporary commander of the partisan force that had previously been known as the Reclamation Fleet.
“Sir?” asked Jetson after Magnus handed him a data stick with the new orders the Admiral had prepared for Norfolk and Simper’s various operatives within the Spineward Sectors.
“Make sure that’s sent privately and with a self-deleting function if they’re read by anyone other than the intended recipients. There can’t be any chance of interception,” said Magnus.
“Will do, Sir,” said the Intelligence Officer, hurrying away.
Curious his Chief of Staff wandered over.
“Yes?” Magnus asked cocking a brow her direction.
“Just curious about what this will mean for future operations,” she said seriously.
“Still trying to manage me, Chief of Staff?” he asked with a smirk.
“It’s my job to ensure things run smoothly. We don’t want our Admiral distracted by minor matters that his staff can and should take care of, Sir,” she replied, not falling for the dig.
“You mean you just want the inside track,” he noted.
She splayed her hands. “That is one of the perks of serving a slave-driving boss at the top of the command chain isn’t it, Sir?” she asked with a sweet smile.
Magnus Davenport choked mid-snort. “You’re a bad bad woman, you know that, Commodore?” he said strictly.
“I don’t know if I would say that,” she riposted.
“Alright, I concede defeat,” he said, rolling his eyes before turning serious, “as you know I need to achieve just exactly the right tone before interjecting myself and 5th Fleet into the situation.”
“Yes,” she agreed.
“As previously thought and as these reports confirm, the partisans are the perfect distraction. Which is why I’ve ordered an immediate counterattack,” said Magnus.
Despite already knowing the Admiral’s original intention, she still drew in a breath at the confirmation.
“You can’t hit them where they’re strong,” Magnus intoned, “and if one thing is clear it’s that this Montagne is uncommonly strong when it comes to fleet engagements. Cornwallis thought he held all the cards and still lost.”
“He had a reserve formation. We have a battle tested and hardened fleet—and not just any fleet, but 5th Fleet, Admiral,” she reminded him.
“The pirates had him outnumbered, the Droids had him surrounded, Arnold Janeski had a fleet of partisans, and Cornwallis a Reserve Formation. I won’t play that game. I’m here to win and the only battles I intend to fight are on the Gorgon Front—where they belong,” said Magnus.
She drew back. “You don’t mean to run from battle?” she asked, her tone making clear she expected he would say no.
He was more than happy to oblige. “If it comes to a fleet battle then so be it. We’ll crush him like we have every other threat we’ve encountered, but like I said if there’s no need to play to this enemy’s strengths then why do it?” he asked rhetorically.
“No reason at all,” she admitted.
“That’s why we’re going to crush him. He can win every battle for all I care and grind down his ships as he goes. We win the war,” said Magnus, “I will put him out of position, strip his allies away and then,” he thrust forward and open hand and then squeezed. His fingers kept closing until knuckles popped. “No one stains the honor of the Empire and gets to brag about it,” Magnus said with a sharp rap of finality.
Chapter 29: The Return of the Reclamation Fleet
“We’ve just received an urgent FTL message from 5th Fleet, Sir,” said the flag Lieutenant, running up with a slate held high.
Admiral Norfolk turned dark eyes upon the junior-most member of his command staff. “What do you have, Reginald?” he asked shortly.
The Flag Lieutenant ignored the Admiral’s ill humor and as soon as he entered range, he started waving the slate around and specifically under his Admiral’s nose.
“It’s here, Sir! What you’ve been waiting for. More orders!” he exclaimed.
“What?” Norfolk glared at the younger man, feeling just as ready to discipline the Flag Lieutenant as he was to take the orders. Lately they’d received nothing but bad news from home.
“Why exactly do you think I’m eager to receive yet another poison pill?” he demanded.
Reginald Farthing looked taken and quickly straightened trying to adopt a more serious demeanor. “If you’ll just take a look, sir, you’ll see these orders are somewhat different from our last set,” he said with a gleam in his eye.
Almost despite himself the Admiral reached for the slate and pulled it out of the Lieutenant’s hands.
He was halfway through the orders when he started laughing—and it wasn’t warm laughter.
“You were right to bring these to me so quickly,” he allowed, looking back up at the Flag Lieutenant and, for the first time in over a year—and especially after the events two months ago—Norfolk felt his mood lightening.
“Good new, Sir?” his Chief of Staff asked, sidling over curiously.
“The best, Captain Wilkins,” Norfolk said with a smile that could have bit through bulkheads, “we’ve officially been given permission to go after those murderers. The space gods decided to curse my soul for failing to keep the Task Force ready during the Battle for Easy Haven by letting these savages find our evacuation convoy. It almost broke my faith in the Empire to be forced to retreat from those blighters time and time
again, but now my faith is partially restored.”
“We’ve been given permission to hunt them down and find them, Sir. The retreat’s been called off?” asked Wilkins in a cold voice.
“Even better, Captain. We’ve been given permission for a general push. The Reclamation Fleet is being ordered to crush these gods forsaken locals and drive them before us until we’re able to link up with the Imperial 5th Fleet or we’re given new orders,” said Norfolk.
“They fell on women and children like pirates and slaughtered our dependents. As far as I’m concerned, this entire region deserves to die,” said Captain Wilkins.
“Not the region, just their entire military and the government that gave them their orders,” disagreed Norfolk.
“I couldn’t agree with you more,” said Wilkins.
“Send out the order to gather the fleet. Enough pulling back. It’s time to advance. We concentrate and destroy,” said Norfolk.
“And we’ll keep destroying until we find their moving capitol and finish that too,” said Wilkins.
“The Empire and Admiral Davenport willing,” agreed Norfolk.
Chapter 30: Bluetooth at Bay
“Where the black blazes did all these ships come from!” Bluetooth screamed as the Newton rocked around him. The advance guard of an enemy fleet that outnumbered his by at least two-to-one advanced on the unmoving warships of his Flotilla. In reply, New Confederation warships spun up their hyper drives as fast as they could in an attempt to flee the star system.
“Return fire off the port side. We’ve got to clear that Heavy Cruiser if we’re going to make it long enough to jump out!” shouted Captain Kermit.
“Shields compromised!” warned the Shield Warrant right before the firepower of three Cruisers punched through the Battleship’s shields and dug deep into its armor in one concentrated barrage.
“We have out-gassing,” reported Damage Control.
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