Wolf's Run: The Chase of War (Star Wolf Sqaudron Book 2)

by Shane VanAulen

  Lt. Collins was thinking of Prussian General von Moltke the Elder’s book - On Strategy where he said that “No plan ever survives first contact with the enemy.”

  The knights paused at this and some nodded their heads.

  “Sir Arron …” Mike started needing to change the subject.

  “Simply address us as Confederation officers as the Pope has decreed we are at the Emperor’s service and has activated our reserve commissions.”

  “Very well Commander …” Mike paused realizing that he didn’t know the knight’s last name and had to look to his name tag. “Commander Wilkes, the Templar fighters are under your command but the CAG is Lt. Grinder. He was my senior flight leader on the Randori and is my Star Group Commander. He is also a highly experienced fighter pilot and is a double ace with ten - star fighter to star fighter space victories.”

  Sir Arron nodded understanding that his men were coming into a preexisting command structure and would have to earn their respect and trust.

  “I’ll have Lt. Grinder get together with you to plan training drills while the fleet is preparing,” Mike said again offering his hand.

  “Sounds good,” the knight captain replied with an honest smile.

  Again the Templar gripped his hand normally. Mike then offered his hand to each of the junior officers looking at their name tags and welcoming them aboard.

  The last officer’s name was Bigler and he had a look in his brown eyes when he gripped his hand to shake. He was still thanking Mike for the opportunity to fight as he slowly increased the pressure of his grip.

  Collins smiled back feeling the Templar hold becoming harder and then he exerted his own strength while still smiling. It had been pointed out to him several times in the recent past that he was augmented in a way other than his inactive hardwire. He knew that he could at time call on superior speed and strength but that was just limited to bout or fight. His father once said it was just an adrenaline burst and to be careful not hurt someone. If what Bannon said was true, then what better time to test that theory he thought? Closing his hand, he squeezed down hard while talking normally to the officer while asking where he was from.

  The Templar winced and Mike let him go, again welcoming him to the Nathaniel Green’s crew. Nodding to Sir Arron he left to carry out the rest of his visit to the escort carrier. None of the knights saw that as he was leaving he had a slight grin on his face.

  Moving to the bridge’s door he activated the sensor and looked into the carrier’s command and control center. It looked different and the same all in once glance. What made it different was that the bridge was full of personnel and everyone looked busy.

  All of the stations were now manned and a group of techs were working on the maser system. Other crewmen moved about the room and sitting in the captain’s chair was a familiar face.

  Lt. Thornton was signing a crewman’s palm pad when he spotted their wayward captain enter the bridge. Jumping to his feet he nearly knocked the nearby specialist over as he called to the room to attention.

  “Captain on the bridge!” he announced in a booming voice.

  Seated officers working bridge stations didn’t have to get up in time of battle or on patrol as this protocol was not used during those times but a ship at stations keeping amongst an allied fleet was a different story.

  The room started to snap to attention but Mike quickly called out “As you were.”

  Everyone relaxed and got back to work. Many of them looking over to their young captain with a smile or a head nod of greeting and respect.

  “Good to see you, sir,” Lt. Thornton said with a smile.

  “Good to be here John,” Collins replied and added “I’m also glad your back from the San Quentin.”

  “Commander Hutton said you requested my return,” Thornton shared.

  Mike nodded, “Yes, he wanted to keep you but I told him I needed a first officer so he gave in and sent you back.”

  “Sir?” Thornton said his narrow face looking at his skipper questioningly.

  “Lt. Cappillo is too busy as chief engineer to be an effective XO and you have proven yourself as more than capable, that’s why I sent you over to take command of that freighter,” he explained.

  “Thank you, sir,” Lt. Thornton said stammering a little.

  “You earned it and you probably won’t thank me as your work load has just doubled,” Mike said hitting him on the side of his shoulder with an open hand.

  The senior lieutenant just smiled.

  “Do you know where my things got stowed?” Mike asked of his new executive officer.

  “Yes sir, we put them in the captain’s ready room,” he answered looking back at a hatched doorway.

  Mike nodded, “Thanks,” he said moving to the door.

  Reaching the door, he found that it didn’t slide open as its proximity sensor was either broken or it just didn’t have one.

  “It has a voice activation,” Thornton said calling over to him.

  Collins looked back and frowned.

  “Well, that’s damn inconvenient,” he mumbled wondering if he could have that fixed or reset to proximity setting. “Open” he said which was followed by the door sliding out of his way.

  Entering the captain’s ready room, he was shocked to see the state that the room was in. On the Randori he had a bare bones office with a bolted down metal desk and hard poly-steel chairs. It was utilitarian and at least very functional. Captain Hope’s ready room on the Star Wolf was twice the size of the Randori’s. Mr. Lucas his batman manservant had redecorated the day cabin with books and paintings as well as an elegant wooden desk. He took a room that had been completely barren and changed it into a gentleman’s study.

  The Nathaniel Green’s ready room was more of a luxury hotel suite. There was a wet bar and mini kitchenette in one corner. A sofa and leather arm chairs were placed in a living room looking area and were positioned around a walnut and glass coffee table. The floor was covered in polished hardwood with Mike guessing that it looked like oak. There was an office area further back that had built-in wooden book shelves just like Captain Hope’s day cabin. There were also numerous paintings mostly of various jet fighters from Earth’s history. There was also one large portrait of the American Revolutionary General for which the ship was named - General Nathaniel Green.

  Along the opposite wall from the living room was a series of shelves with various potted plants. There was a row of ultra violet lights mounted on the ceiling above them. Mike looked at it twice before he realized that the plants weren’t of the human variety. He did know that the Karduan female caste were vegetarians. Before the Voroosh conquered them and enslaved them their home planet was mostly an agrarian society with limited technology. Even their religion was based about a nature goddess called the Bright Lady who brought sunlight and good weather for their crops to grow. It only made sense that the last captain of the escort carrier - the Karduan ship mistress, would have a small garden.

  Mike had wondered about her as she had been reluctant to enter the fight and had relied on sending her fighters in as well as torpedo and missile attacks. For a human carrier commander that would have been the proper thing to do but for a Karduan it seemed out of character. They wanted glory for their House and the advancement that went with it. Either she was under orders to stay back out of the fray and they were trying to emulate the tactics of their human foes or she was a reluctant to fight. Perhaps she was letting the others perish for some political reason? Whatever the reason it would have to wait until her interrogation took place to find out the reason for her hesitation.

  Entering the room, a voice greeted him.

  “Welcome captain, do you require anything?” the voice was that of a woman with an almost sultry British accent.

  Looking around the room Collins realized that it was the ship’s main computer. Some starship captain’s preferred to set their computer to speak only when they needed to or when asked. Others liked to talk to their computers
and wanted them to be more interactive. Of course some main computers also had artificial intelligence and were interactive on their own accord.

  “Computer, are you an A.I. system?” he inquired.

  “No, captain, I’m a Leyland 3,000 standard operating system core computer,” she said reminding him of Alistair Dover sister that he had met once when his family visited him a couple years back. Dover had also warned all of his classmates to leave her alone.

  “Do you have a name?” he asked.

  “No captain, I have no designation except my model number,” the computer voice answered.

  “Ok, your name is Doris,” Mike said with a little laugh. Alistair’s sister name was Doris and he was sure that it would tick him off.

  “Very well sir, do you require anything?”

  Mike paused at her question as he had a dozen pressing questions of his own that he needed answered but one had leaped to the top of the list.

  “Did you serve the Karduan ship mistress who took over this ship?”

  “No sir, when the ship was surrendered at New Briton my security protocols activated. My core memory file and command functions shut down and locked. Only basic ship functions were left online that allowed operation of the ship. The enemy forces didn’t realize that there were higher levels and thought that my systems had been completely wiped,” she explained.

  Mike nodded thinking that whoever programmed the system was pretty bright.

  “How were you restored?” he wondered.

  “A Lt. Martin Daily found my dormant command functions and reactivated them. He also set my new Confederation command protocols with you as my new commanding officer,” she explained.

  “I’m not surprised,” Mike commented as he crossed the room and went to the captain’s corner officer with its ornate desk and leather chair. He paused and looked at the portrait of General Nathaniel Green. Turning his focus to the desk he saw that it was a modern computer station but what really caught his attention was what was laying on the desktop. The ship mistress’s sword that had been given to him by Ensign Binkley when he had taken command.

  Picking up the white tritanium sword he was again surprised at its lightness. It reminded him of a sort of heavy rapier and light long sword hybrid. It was clearly a thrusting sword but had a very sharp edge that he wasn't about to run a thumb across. His Randall fighting knife and his poly-carbon extension sword both had extremely sharp edges that would split a person’s thumb clean open all the way to the bone. This white patar sword was legendary for its sharpness. They had been forged by the mysterious Kazad for their Vorooshin masters for their personal use.

  Even rarer were black tritanium blades that the Kazad made for the human gladiators to give them a weapon better than their traditional steel swords. Many of these white tritanium blades passed on to their former Karduan servants. Some few had made it to Earth and were highly prized, in fact the sword before him was probably worth as much as a small starship maybe more.

  He felt guilty having the blade but he also had an idea. Laying the patar off to the side of the desk he continued with his duties as captain before he had to return for the next meeting on board the Star Wolf.

  “Doris, show me a list of crew currently onboard and of any expected crew transfers,” he requested as the computer projected a holo list with crew profiles and service records of to the side of their name, rank and MOS.

  Mike nodded, liking how his crew roster was filing out. He still only had a little over one duty shift but things like CIC and engineering were looking good and he had a full complement of pilots for his star fighters. It would do, it would definitely do he thought.

  “Show me ship status and all reports on readiness,” he said leaning back in his very comfortable chair as he went through the digital readouts.

  An hour later he left his ship in the hands of his new executive officer as he and Rufo Cappillo shuttled over to the nearby attack cruiser.

  Masters Gunnery Sergeant Masters along with Commanders Hutton and Bannon had spent most their six hours interrogating senior Karduan officers and crewmen for information. Cmdr. Bannon had set his crew on the ISS Raven to data analysis and had volunteered to help with the interviews. Jack Masters had once been a CCF or Colonial Constabulary Force police officer. It had been his second career after retiring from the Colonial Marines. He and Cmdr. Hutton also had months of experience interviewing and interrogating the Blues that they had previously captured. Once they were done with the Kardie officers that they had selected they then turned to another prisoner, a human prisoner.

  “You pirate scum,” Gunny said “if your lucky you’ll get life in prison but more than likely you’ll be put to death for treason.”

  “Your only hope is if you cooperate and tell us what you know,” Hutton added playing the good cop. He had been the Star Wolf’s and the task forces S-2 and was in charge of intelligence gathering and intelligence estimates. Good roles for a former Imperial Special Forces Commando officer.

  Cmdr. Bannon sat in back corner observing the whole process. He wanted to stay out of the initial interview and watch the body language of the subject before he entered the discussion. His presence being seen but not involved might also unsettle some subjects.

  All of this didn’t’ matter as the human prisoner sat back smiling the whole time until he finally laughed at his captors.

  “You must all be very desperate to be talking to me now,” Peter Alexander aka Alexander the Great said having sat in a cell for the last few weeks.

  His only company in the attack cruiser’s brig was a Galactic Trading Company’s representative named Mark F.U. Walton, who sat crying or whining about how he was unfairly imprisoned. Peter had tried to kill him one night just to get him to stop crying but the guards had electrified the cell’s floor shocking him into unconsciousness. During all that time he was only talked to only once by his captors and he had been less than helpful.

  Unlike a criminal interview in which police investigators would seek an omission of guilt this one was more of a military interrogation where they needed time sensitive and accurate information.

  They had tried the standard questions to utter silence. They had brought up the pirate’s past and the charges facing him that included multiple counts of piracy, murder, kidnapping and treason. He still didn’t stir and just leaned back with a thin little grin of amusement.

  Isolation hadn’t broken him and Gunny Masters was even starting to lose his cool. Appealing to his sense of regret or conscience was also a waste of time. You'd to have a moral compass for that. Something that Alexander the Great was wholly lacking.

  “Maybe we should just put him in an airlock and let the atmosphere out slowly,” the marine NCO suggested standing directly behind him for maximum effect.

  “Now Master Guns, I know our friend here will cooperate with us without such extreme measures,” Hutton commented smiling at the pirate.

  Peter smiled back and then spit in the crippled commander’s face.

  Hutton forced a grimace as he wiped his face and a second later the Gunny grabbed the pirate’s head from behind and drove him face first into the table’s metal surface.

  The pirate’s nose exploded in a spray of blood as it was smashed against the hard surface and easily broken.

  “Thank you, Jack,” Hutton said as he wiped his face with a handkerchief.

  “So much for establishing rapport and gaining the subject's trust,” Masterssaid quoting a technique from the interrogation manual.

  Bannon let out a sigh and cleared his throat.

  “Well gentlemen, I don’t think our friend here is going to be much help without more forceful options,” he said standing up and walking over to the blood covered table. The pirate was unconscious but his nose continued to bleed.

  “Any other ideas?” Gunny asked shaking his head and not wanting to resort to the questionable means that the NIA officer was hinting at.

  “I have one,” Commander Hutton said with a wi
de smile.

  When Peter Alexander awoke he was staring across the freshly cleaned table at a new interrogator. His nose still hurt but someone had probably set his break and given him a shot of Heal-X as it appeared to be straight and working. Looking at his new questioner he realized that it was the same man who had captured him.

  “Well, I’m glad to see that you are finally awake,” Mike commented looking bored at having had to wait for him to come around.

  “I see they brought in the junior varsity,” the pirate taunted.

  Collins shook his head and looked around the empty room.

  “I don’t see anyone else,” he remarked.

  “So, is this were they let the junior officer work me over for awhile to loosen me up,” Peter said and forced a laugh.

  Mike put his extension sword on the table. It was the same poly-carbon sword that he took from the pirate back on Austro Prime just before they stole the Star Wolf.

  “I’m not going to lay a hand on you unless you’re stupid again.”

  “I see you still have my property,” Peter Alexander said ignoring him and staring down at the weapon while wishing his hands were free.

  “Yes and I found out that it once belonged to a Knight Templar,” Mike informed.

  “So the fuck what?”

  Mike smiled and placed his palm pad on the table and activated its mini holo projector. The image of Blue Rock’s moon projected into the air between them.

  “Big deal another ice ball of a planet,” Peter said and added “Who cares?”

  “You should care as we are at the Templar Base at Blue Rock. In fact, I now have twenty Templar pilots in my command and they are all knights.”

  Peter looked nervous and scanned the room back and forth trying to see behind him and if anyone was standing there.

  “You see, I think the Templars would like to know how you got one of their swords and what had happened to its former owner,” Mike said and then leaned forward and whispered to him. “It has all been pretty nice for you up to now. Three meals a day and no physical danger. In fact, you know that we really can’t do anything to you except lock you up with that annoying GTC wimp.”