by Terry Mixon
“Boy, did he pick the wrong person to try that on,” Danny said with a shake of his head. “And right after boarding. That is not promising.”
“Yet I’m going to have to work with him,” Zia said grimly. “Maybe I caught him on a bad day. I want to spend a few minutes going over his record together.”
Commander Levy’s record was a good one, on paper. She knew that didn’t always reflect a person’s true personality, much less whether he’d be a good fit in an unusual command.
He’d last served as the commanding officer of a heavy cruiser under the overall authority of Captain Alice Quinn. That was to his favor. She knew that Quinn had stood up for Admiral Mertz in front of the court of inquiry following their return. She was an ally.
Perhaps Levy felt that moving from a cruiser command to the XO on a ship like this was a step down. Or perhaps it was her own rapid elevation to command that raised his hackles.
Nothing in his record led her to believe he was generally a problem child, but her instincts told her there was going to be trouble of some kind.
Danny rubbed his chin. “Maybe this was a one-time occurrence. He seems like a great candidate. Better than me, that’s for sure.”
Zia smiled. “That’s not even close to true. If I’d had a say in this, I’d have kept you right where you are, but I know an independent command is going to do you a universe of good. Fleet knows that, too.”
She sighed. “Well, I suppose I’ll figure the new guy out in due time. If he makes an ass of himself, I can handle that, too.”
He rose to his feet when she did. “Skipper, I want you to know what an honor and pleasure it’s been to work with you.”
She took the hand he offered and shook it firmly. “Likewise, and I don’t think this is the last we’ll see of one another. Your cruiser squadron is going to be providing Audacious the cover she needs going forward.”
Danny nodded. “That makes perfect sense. Shall I go retrieve the new guy?”
“Yes,” she said as she headed for her desk. “Keep him in the dark about our earlier encounter. I think this might be a salutary experience for him.”
The other officer grinned. “My lips are sealed, ma’am. Be right back.”
She brought up Levy’s record on her desk comp while she waited. His orders were in the system now, too, so she quickly read them. Fleet had indeed assigned him as her new executive officer.
Zia called her steward. “Jim, it looks like we’ll need a going away party tomorrow. Danny Leonidas is moving on to a command of his own.”
The tall man on the screen nodded. “I’m both sorry and excited to hear that, ma’am. Will a lunch timeframe work?”
She nodded. “Yes. Plan on all the senior officers attending.”
“The new man will be replacing Commander Leonidas?”
Steward First Class Jim Richmond had one of the best poker faces Zia had ever seen, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.
“He will. Tell me what you think of the man.”
“It’s not a good thing to speak ill of senior officers, ma’am. Particularly when they’re going to become the new executive officer.”
Zia smiled coolly. “You work for me directly, Jim. No need to be nasty, but I really do want to know what your initial take is.”
“The man has a temper,” the steward admitted. “Apparently, some pilot torqued him off and he’s pissed. I didn’t ask the particulars, but that seems mighty fast to have an incident. That leads me to believe he’s going to stir up trouble this ship might not be the better for. With all due respect, of course.”
“That pretty much matches what I’ve already seen. I wouldn’t worry too much. We’ll all find a good balance, I’m sure.”
“If you say so, ma’am.”
The admittance chime for her office hatch sounded. A check of her implants showed Danny and the new guy outside her door.
“I have to go, Jim. Make the party a special one.”
He looked mildly affronted. “As if I wouldn’t. Ma’am.”
She laughed until the man smiled and then cut the connection. Then she put on her captain’s face and hit the button to open the hatch.
Danny stepped in first. “Someone to see you, ma’am.”
The other officer took two steps forward and came to attention. “Commander Brandon Levy reporting as ordered, ma’am.”
Interestingly, his eyes held no recognition. Of course, she’d been wearing a bulky flight suit and helmet, though the latter had come off for a little bit. That wasn’t very observant of him.
“Thank you, Commander Leonidas.”
Her soon-to-be former executive officer smiled wryly and stepped back out. The hatch slid closed, leaving her with her newest problem child.
Her voice must’ve triggered something in his memory. She knew the moment that he made the connection because his eyes widened in alarm.
Zia smiled coolly. “It’s good to see you again, Commander. We really didn’t have much of a chance to chat on the flight deck. I’m looking forward to a nice, long conversation so we can get to know one another.
“I understand you have some concerns about fighter priority, but we should get the formalities out of the way first. I’m Captain Zia Anderson. Welcome aboard the Fleet carrier Audacious.”
* * * * *
Jared almost stumbled out of the Imperial Palace. He wasn’t sure how he’d have gotten home without an official driver.
The man frowned in concern, but Jared waved for him to proceed. He had to pull himself together. “I’m fine. Just some unexpected news. Take me to my apartment.”
“Aye, sir,” the Fleet rating said.
The man brought the air car out of the garage at a sedate pace and headed back toward the city. A second car came in from the left and began shadowing them.
The driver eyed it suspiciously. “We have company, sir. Should I call for backup?”
Based on the events a month ago, it wasn’t an unreasonable question. Only this time Jared was sure the men in the other car weren’t there to kill him. He had a sinking suspicion he’d just inherited his own detail from the Imperial Guard.
He shook his head. “No. It’s fine. I’m not in a position to speak about it, and I’d appreciate your discretion. His Majesty has decided I need a little extra protection for a bit. Nothing to worry about.”
The man’s eyes narrowed, but he nodded. “As you say, sir. We’ll be back at your place shortly.”
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into his new neighborhood. Elise had said his old apartment was quaint and a little small for two people.
His new place occupied the top floor of an older building in a stylish neighborhood. One with a pad on the roof where his marine guards could screen visitors.
The door into the building opened as they landed and Elise Orison stepped out. The driver had obviously signaled ahead. Her guards came out and their eyes tracked the follow car.
Jared stepped out as soon as his air car settled. “It’s okay. They’re not a threat.” He turned back to the driver. “I’m in for the evening, so head back home.”
“Aye, sir,” the man said.
Elise stepped up beside him as the car took off and watched the other car come in for a landing. Three people in Imperial whites step out: two women and one man.
“Jared?” she asked, her expression tightening. “Why are they here?”
“Let’s go in and I’ll tell you over a drink. I already had a double and it wasn’t enough.”
“You’re scaring me.”
He slid his arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry. It’s a bit of a shock, but I’m not in trouble. Well, not as you’d define it, anyway.”
“You’re maddening.”
She marched him inside and closed the apartment door in the faces of her guards. They’d be a bit discussing things with their Imperial counterparts anyway.
“Make mine a large glass of red,” she said as she sat on the edge of the couch. “The good s
tuff, mind you. And stop stalling.”
“I’m not stalling,” he delayed as he poured the drinks. “It’s just been a shock.”
“Let me see,” she said thoughtfully. “What is it that Kelsey says at times like these? Oh yes. Trot it out, mister.”
Jared chuckled and handed her a glass of the red she liked. He sat down beside her and sipped his drink. The buzz from his early drinking had worn off, unfortunately.
“His Majesty has decided that my promotion is a little light for his taste in rewards, so he plans on having us drop by in the morning for a little ceremony.”
Her eyes narrowed and glittered a little dangerously. “Details,” she ground out between clenched teeth.
“He decided that a title would be appropriate.”
Her face lit up. “That’s wonderful news! How can you be so glum? Tell me. Will you have to start styling yourself as Sir Jared? Honestly, with the others that were knighted, I felt a little cheated on your behalf.”
“If so, he didn’t tell me. That wouldn’t surprise me, now that you mention it, though. No, tomorrow morning he’s going to bestow a newly created duchy upon me.”
She just about spilled her wine as she set it down and pulled him into a tight hug, squealing in his ear. “My God, that’s terrific! You’ll make a handsome ruler, Your Grace. It’s very well deserved.”
He tossed his drink back and set the empty glass down beside hers. “I’m afraid that isn’t all. After some careful study, he decided there was one more title he wanted me to carry, and it’s going to cause me grief. I just know it.
“It turns out there’s historical precedent for a special level in the peerage for those of direct Imperial lineage when they aren’t in the line of succession. At least those the emperor or empress favored. He’s going to make me a prince of the blood.”
She did knock her wine over this time when she lunged into his arms, whooping loudly.
Loudly enough to make the guards burst in with their weapons drawn, but that didn’t dampen her wild celebration dance in his honor.
He waved them back out and used some tissues to stop the wine from running off the side of the table and staining the carpet. He finished just in time to have her land on him again, pushing him back onto the couch with her body.
Jared tried to speak, but she had different ideas. In moments, he found that he really didn’t want to talk about it anyway.
Chapter Five
Annette walked out of the ready room with her helmet under her arm. “Are we ready?”
Fiennes nodded. “All the birds are prepped and they’re wrapping up the pre-flights now. I already gave your bird the once over.”
She’d still check the most critical systems. Annette trusted Jake with her life, but a warrior didn’t delegate the critical tasks to others. She’d flown this morning, so a basic run through would be good enough.
“Have you passed the flight plan on to everyone?”
“Of course.”
“Excellent. Then they’ll be completely discombobulated when I do something else.”
He shook his head with a smile. “Shouldn’t we at least pretend we’re following an actual plan in the training?”
“I am following a plan,” she said. “I’m teaching them that even when they think they know what’s happening, the situation can change for the worse without any notice at all. I’ll incorporate what you presented to them, but not in the way they expect things to run.”
“You’re the boss.”
Annette went over her assigned fighter closely. It was uniquely hers, permanently assigned and with her name just under the canopy, along with a jack of spades emblem. She’d gotten used to the specific quirks it had and was very happy with it.
Once she was satisfied the bird was ready, she put her helmet on and strapped herself in. “Audacious Flight Control, this is Black Jack Actual. Com Check.”
“You’re coming in loud and clear, Black Jack Actual,” a man’s voice answered. “What’s on the plate for today?”
“Formation fighting and ugly surprises,” she said with a smile.
“Won’t you be popular? Orbital One is aware of your sortie, and we’ll be watching for those ugly surprises with interest.”
“Thanks Control. You’ll like it. Trust me. Black Jack Actual out.”
She switched to the general squadron frequency. “All Black Jack elements, this is Black Jack Actual. We’ll be performing a planetary patrol today. Nothing too complicated, but I want you to pay specific attention to keeping close to your wingman.
“We’ll try out several basic formations and maneuvers today. Do not embarrass me. Launch when ready and form up fifty kilometers astern of Audacious. Black Jack Actual out.”
The Black Jack pilots called in their acknowledgements one by one in numerical order. That was standard, so that in the heat of battle they didn’t try to talk over one another. They also sent in their acknowledgement via implant, but she liked hearing them. It gave her a better feel for their states of mind.
Flight by flight, they launched. When her turn came up, the launch catapult hurled her down the launch tube and out of the ship. Once the grav drive came online, she nudged her fighter into its assigned position among the swarm that was Black Jack Squadron.
They started off easily enough, cycling through a few changes in formation. They were simple maneuvers, but very important. If they didn’t shift position in the correct manner, they might risk collision with their teammates.
When she was satisfied they were firmly in the groove, she brought up her simulation override controls. They allowed her to activate certain features in the scanner software on each of the fighters.
She activated the program. Down on Avalon’s surface, a strobe lit up, announcing hostile missile launches.
“Vampire, vampire, vampire,” she said over the general frequency. “Hostile launches from the planet’s surface. First flight, take the missiles out. Second flight, cover them. Third, eliminate the launchers.”
With commendable speed, first flight peeled off and dove into Avalon’s atmosphere. The fighters took on a continually shifting position, with each pair watching over their mates. They targeted the incoming missiles while Second Flight watched for other fighters.
There weren’t any this time. At least, not yet.
Jake led Third Flight down on a strafing run. The area housing the supposed facility was actually a military training range. No one was in danger below, because the ordinance was real today.
She took a place behind Second Flight. If needed, she’d help with what they were doing, but she was controlling what was happing in the exercise today. In a real fight, she’d guide First Flight.
Things went gratifyingly smoothly. First Flight took out the attacking missiles quickly, and focused on the follow up waves as Third Flight dropped down and blew up the target area. The flashes were probably bright enough to be notable in orbit.
While they were still conducting their bombing run, she activated the next segment of the program. Her scanners almost immediately reported fighters launching from the south.
“Second Flight, incoming fighters,” she said. “Engage.”
“Copy,” the lieutenant in command of the group said.
They spiraled out to engage the enemy fighters. These were the ugly surprise. They weren’t simulated fighters. They were real.
Scimitar Squadron came racing up to meet them, splitting into elements right at the last moment. The fighting—with simulated weapons, of course—quickly turned into a massive snarl, as though a cat had gotten ahold of a humongous pile of yarn.
Their implants made keeping track of all the other fighters possible, but very difficult. Any particular craft could change course at a moment’s notice, turning right in your path.
Like two of the enemy fighters did for her.
“Black Jack Actual engaging,” she told her wingman.
She peeled off, brought her anti-fighter missiles online, and fired.
The lead fighter dodged violently and his electronic countermeasures allowed him to elude her strike, but his wingman was less fortunate. He turned red on her scanners and immediately exited the area.
Her pleasure was short-lived, as two other fighters targeted her.
Annette pushed her fighter into a sharp dive and evaded the incoming strike. Barely. Her wingman had a scary moment when he and one of the enemy fighters almost collided. For real.
“Jesus, Black Jack Seven!” she shouted. “Watch out!”
“Sorry about that,” Larry Connors said back. “We jigged the same direction.”
She started to answer but her threat warning lit up again. Annette dodged, but it wasn’t good enough. A simulated missile took her out.
And just like that she was dead. Thankfully, not in real life.
A quick consult with her scanner gave her a clear course out of the fight, and she had all the time in the world to observe the fight play out.
Any semblance of order was gone. With everyone fighting for their lives, they’d lost track of the strategic situation. Herself included, she thought wryly. It had turned into a dogfight.
The after action report was going to be fun. They’d overcommitted and another ground site was busy shooting down her squadron. Jake did what he could, but they’d already lost. The best he could do was try to extract as many of their people as he could.
Well, they said mistakes were the best teachers. They’d all learn something from today’s exercise.
Once the remains of her squadron were clear, she sent the signal to terminate the war game. “All Audacious units, this is Black Jack Actual. Exercise terminated. Return to base.”
Sorting them all out took longer than she liked, but they eventually headed back for the carrier. She started making notes for the briefing. The fight left her tired, but exhilarated. This had been far uglier than she’d planned, but that was fine for now.
Once they finished the briefing, they could get something to eat and get some rest. Then they’d do it all again tomorrow.