Fighting the Silent

by Bruno Martins Soares

  *

  The main deck of the W.S.Ascim, a 58-battery destroyer, allowed a big enough space for a meeting of several hundred people to take place. At this time, there were only a few dozen, mingling in the room while waiting for Captain Saltz, the Navy Captain commanding the ship and the actual leader of the convoy, to begin his speech. I came in with Mirany Cavo, and of course, everyone looked at us. She not only was the prettiest person in the room,she was also one of the most respected, as I soon found out. She introduced me to some of the captains of the other merchants, and I left her in the center of an admiring group to join a few Navy officers in a corner.

  “Tym, with the T’s.” I greeted.

  Young Gatty looked at me and smiled honestly.

  “Hi, Byl.”

  “So, you’ve been attached to the cows as well.”

  “Aboard W.S.Farcot, a 900k.” He kept smiling. “It’s an important mission.”

  He actually meant it.

  “Indeed.”

  He introduced me to the other officers, all juniors attached to merchants. There were 12 of us, placed in the biggest higher-risk ships in the convoy. As it turned out, I was the most senior of all. That shamed me a little, to be honest, as it meant I was the oldest of the ‘Expendables’ and so, potentially, the least talented of my generation. But I also felt responsible. It was easy to see that the lot of them was looking up to me, to be fair.

  “Well,” I said. “Be careful out there. If I’m not mistaken, it won’t be an easy ride.”

  “That’s just it.” Said Gatty. “We don’t really know what to do if we’re attacked. What should we do?”

  I looked at each of them. They all had a kind of troubled young look, as if somebody had forgotten to tell them to bring their books to school. But I knew what they were feeling. They felt like lambs to the slaughter, and if they had been briefed as thorough as I had, they hadn’t been briefed at all.

  “When it happens, just keep calm and remember your training. If your captains ask your advice, tell them to disperse from the convoy as soon as possible.”

  They were surprised. That was not the official Navy procedure for dealing with the Silent. But I couldn’t see any better way.

  At that point, Captain Saltz, a large sullen man, took to his stage and waited for everyone to be quiet. The crowd turned to listen, sitting on the available chairs. I saw Captain Cavo looking at me and understood she wanted me by her side, so I went, saluting my Navy friends with a casual couple of fingers, like a senior officer.

  “Good evening, gentlemen.” Started Saltz, carelessly ignoring the women in the room. “Thank you for your presence. In a few hours, we will initiate the voyage towards Torrance. QC1 will be the first Webbur run supply convoy to cross the asteroid belts and the Dark Sea since the beginning of the war, so there is no way of knowing if we stand in any danger from Axx’s forces. Still, the Navy considers this trip to be extremely dangerous.”

  I looked around. Everyone knew we were in danger, of course.

  “At this very moment, the 2nd Fleet is clearing up the path through the Mirox asteroid belt, making sure all the navigation buoys are in place and that there are no surprises, so we’ll be safe as far as the belt. After that, the Fleet will no longer protect us and will remain on this side of the Dark Sea.”

  “Why is that, Captain?” asked one of the merchant captains.

  Saltz twitched his nose, displeased he was being interrupted. He cleared his throat and answered.

  “Well, we are not at war, at the moment, and our government surely doesn’t want to provoke any foreign power by sending the fleet into the Dark Sea.”

  The room filled with whisperings.

  “Provoike?” said another merchant, with a deep West Hiron accent. “What d’you call leading a cuunvoy to supply one of the faactionz with military raw materials?”

  Saltz raised an eyebrow.

  “Gentlemen, please. If you don’t mind, I would rather you placed all your questions after my… well… presentation.”

  The audience quieted down a little.

  “We should be able to go to the port in Torrance in 7 weeks.Four of those weeks will be spent crossing unprotected space. So it is paramount that we maintain our discipline and our focus. Nothing else will stand between the convoy and disaster.”

  “Duisaster?” intervened the hiron once more. “I thought we weire not at war, Captain!”

  Saltz ignored him.

  “The Navy is considerably short of convoy protection vessels and means. So QC1 will be guarded by only 4 ships, including two frigates, the W.S. Loghi and the W.S. Yital; a Corvette, W.S. Ehm; and of course, the Ascim.»

  I saw Mirany looking at me, maybe trying to understand how uncomfortable I was with what Saltz was saying, and I looked away, trying not to show how scared I really was. 4 ships to protect 40 merchants was as bad of a joke as I’d ever heard.

  Saltz took a pointer and showed us a board with images of ships in formation.

  “Certainly you have been sufficiently briefed individually on the use of convoys. Maybe some of you have already participated in one or two. Either way, so we are completely clear, and there are no doubts, I would like to go over the convoy tactic as it has been molded by war experience. The basic convoy is established via two parallel lines of merchant ships, meaning, in this case, two 20-ship lines navigating side by side. The speed will inevitably be set by the two forward ships, and any vessel unable to keep up with it, by any malfunction or damage, must immediately leave the convoy, so not to deter any of the others. The convoy will be protected by a destroyer up front, one frigate on each side and a corvette in the rear. In case of any laggards, the corvette or a frigate will stay behind to protect her or them. Any questions so far?”

  “Yes,” said someone I couldn’t see. “What if there are more laggards than protectors?”

  Saltz didn’t give much thought to the question.

  “Well, the convoy comes first, of course. But I will elaborate on that in the end, if you don’t mind. Now, if attacked, the convoy will make a circular turn to the side of the attack. So if the attack comes from the larboard side, we’ll turn larboard, and if it comes from the starboard side, we’ll turn starboard. The resulting ‘circle of wagons,' so to speak, will ensure that either the attacker will be encircled and at the mercy of all our weapons, or it will be on the outside with no safe path to penetrate the formation. In case the attack comes from directly above or below the convoy, this will always circle larboard. It is, however, paramount that the formation is maintained. Is that clear?”

  I looked around. The captains were definitely concerned, but some had had experiences with convoys in the Pirate Wars and knew that for the most part, they worked. Saltz continued.

  “I know it may seem we will have little protection from the enemy, especially if he is using Silent Boats. But we have some new secret weapons with us. Weapons that haven’t even been distributed to the Navy’s mighty fleets! I’m speaking of the PTL30 Disposable Flash Probe, that can be fired into the dark and create a one-time powerful light flash and use a rigorous multi-layer sensor that can detect even the tiniest reflection in a deep space environment. The device is able to decode the specter of light in an instant to separate the light of the stars from the tiniest reflection on an invisible hull of a Silent Boat. If detonated at a reasonable distance of an invisible threat, we believe it will be infallible in detecting it.”

  I raised my eyebrow. I’d heard of the PTL30, and it was good news it was available to us. I wondered, though, what Saltz meant by ‘reasonable distance.'

  “And also we will have the MSS1 cluster-missile, able to separate into over 50 warheads and spread a set of high explosive detonations through a wide area, so even if we don’t have a very clear idea of the position of the threat we can still fight back and contain it.”

  Again, I was pleased. And so were many of the others, murmuring between each other. I looked at Captain Cavo for a second and saw her sigh, sk
eptical, before lifting her head and asking loud enough to be heard: “Will those weapons be made available to us all, Captain Saltz?”

  Saltz twisted, uncomfortable.

  “I’m afraid not, ma’am. These are... uh... for Navy use only. You need to be well trained in their use for either of them to be effective, and also the ships have to be adequately equipped.”

  The whispering got louder. This time, with discontent.

  “But all four Navy vessels in the protection unit are fully armed with them, gentlemen.” Tried Saltz. “That is more than enough!”

  “More than enuff for exactly whoot, Captain!?” asked the hiron. “Your own pruutection?”

  The protests were spawning throughout the room until Mirany Cavo called again. All got quiet and turned to her.

  “One more question, Captain!” She raised her voice, leaning back in her chair with her hands in the overalls’ pockets. “I suppose the Navy ships will be launching a probe net all the way through?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  There was a little twist in Cavo’s eyebrow, maybe signaling a whiff of irritation.

  “Captain, I command a ship, just like you, so I would appreciate if you’d do me the courtesy of calling me ‘Captain,' and not ‘ma’am.”

  There were some faint laughs. Saltz swallowed, uncomfortable.

  “Of course, ma’am... uh... Captain.”

  “Well, Captain Saltz, if you will be launching a probe net, can I assume that this net will cover the whole convoy?”

  “I’m afraid not, ma’am... uh... Captain. We don’t have enough probes for that unless the convoy travels at a much-diminished speed. And that would be costly in supplies and time, as well as presenting a different kind of danger. The best chance comes from crossing the Dark Sea as quickly as possible before we’re detected.”

  This comment sent the protests over the top.

  “We’ll be completely blind!”

  “It will be suicide!”

  “Muirder! It will be muirder!”

  “They’re sending us to die!”

  “Sitting ducks! Just sitting ducks!”

  “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” said Saltz, troubled. “We WILL protect you! You must trust us! The Navy has provided several of you with trained advisors who will be at your service in your ships, and we will be in the front line immediately countering any threat that comes about. This convoy is vital! Please, remain calm!”

  But no-one believed him. No-one remained calm. Until Mirany Cavo got up. Her golden curls sliding down her shoulders. Her peaceful smile resting below her perfect nose. And she said, calmly: “He’s right, lads. This convoy is vital. And that’s why they called us. And that’s why they’re paying us top money. And we knew that. So let’s just bite the bullet, shall we? Thank you, Captain Saltz, for your presentation and your words. And your advisors, of course. The Harvy is ready presently, welcomes your protection and awaits your orders to depart.”

  Cavo turned around, her hands in her pockets.

  “Shall we go, Mr.Iddo?”

  We could hear a pin drop behind us as we left.

  *

  As we traveled back to the Harvy, seated side by side in the 0-gravity environment of the shuttle, Mirany Cavo asked: “What did you think?”

  I didn’t know what to say.

  “About what, Captain?”

  She didn’t like my avoidance. She smiled.

  “I know that you’re a Navy officer, Mr.Iddo, and you feel obligated to the Navy, but you’re also the First Officer on the Harvy, and you have responsibilities towards the ship and crew. And me. It is your duty, actually your primary duty, to form and communicate an opinion on anything I ask and you must fulfill it. Agreed?”

  I trembled inside.

  “Yes, Captain.”

  “So tell me: what did you think about what happened in there?”

  “Well, it’s good news that we will have PTL30’s and MSS1’s available. They definitely seem to be improvements in our weapons against the Silent.”

  “And…?”

  “And it’s good that everyone seems aware of the challenge ahead and they all seem to be competent sailors.”

  “But…?”

  I looked into her eyes. Her smart, strong, beautiful eyes.

  “But I maintain the opinion I had before.”

  “Which is?”

  I slightly waved my head.

  “I think it will be tough.”

  She sighed.

  “You think we’ll be attacked?”

  “Yes, Captain, I do.”

  “And we won’t be able to fight them off.”

  “No, Captain, we won’t.”

  She seated back, adjusted the seat belt and the back of her seat, and rested her hands in her pockets, looking out the window to the Qwindy moon and the convoy vessels in orbit.

  “Thank you, Mr.Iddo.” She said, finally.

  And we were quiet for the rest of the trip.

  *

  We launched soon after. In a long stretched convoy, navigating at high speed towards the cargo ports of Hewel, in Torrance, weeks away. And in the days after the launch, I was finally able to know the Harvy a little better.

  50 people manned the C-Tower, from cooks to medics to engineers. And then each of the 10 hulls employed 20 people. Compared to the massive 15 thousand crew members of the Magnar it was a quiet little crew, even if the whole ship was more or less the size of a 1st tier warship. That meant that if you were near the bow of the Harvy, it was mostly silent. Only if you were close to the engines would you hear the constant drum of the machines.

  I managed to get to know all of the hulls in the free time I had before we got to the Mirox. There was the usual autonomy of the hulls as well, which meant we actually had about 11 different crews on board. I liked them all, I have to say. They were usually efficient and direct but without the flair and determination of the Navy. Yet they did their jobs well. Nothing in the ship seemed out of order or out of place.

  The walks also helped me relax a bit and avoid the depression I was finding in my cabin: I was still having trouble sleeping.

  One interesting thing, in the Navy, we call the second in command of a ship a First Officer, an F.O. if in writing, or simple «number one», sometimes. Cavo had the courtesy of calling me First Officer on my first days aboard; however, in Merchant Navy, they call us Executive Officer or X.O. And that’s the calling I inherited. After a few days, I was really starting to feel it: I was the Harvy’s X.O.

  After a few days into the voyage, I was also feeling something else: there was a lot of tension in the air. People were irritable and worried. More fierce discussions and arguments than usual seemed to break out and even though each hull-captain would deal with its own team’s problems, the troubles in C-tower had to be handled by me and the master-of-the-tower, an angry looking old sailor called Verca. For the first time in my 4-year-old career in spaceships, we had a fight after only two days in Space. Something about somebody’s socks, if you can believe it. Verca called me, but after he told me what was going on and I got it was only a small thing, I let him decide the matter. I didn’t know anybody well enough to start passing judgment just yet. When the second fight broke out just the next day, Captain Cavo stepped in and made a speech over the intercom. It was a short, simple speech about danger, courage and the ability of the crew, but it worked. «I wouldn’t be here with anybody else, would you? We’re a solid team. So let’s keep our heads cool and do our duty, shall we?» She said. Arguments seemed to disappear as of magic.

  Captain Mirany Cavo was a constant surprise. She commanded tremendous respect from her crew. But she had a special way of going about it. Commanding, I mean. She was smoother, simpler, milder than any captain I had served with. And it would seem incredible to anyone in the Navy that she could ever discipline a crew in Space in this manner. But everyone always felt, well, privileged when she was around. Her smile made even the hardest of sailors blush like a little girl. Many just held the
ir breaths when she walked by. And it wasn’t like it was all seduction, nor were they all in love with her. But she always seemed to do the right thing. And she impressed people. Deeply. Like she impressed me. Like she impressed Captain Saltz and everyone else aboard the Ascim.

  *

  As we were a small C-Team, the usual shift on the bridge was just one or two strong. It suited me fine. Unlike the Magnar’s bridge, so large that you would basically be on your own, in your station, with nobody really bothering you for hours, the Harvy’s bridge was almost crowded with two or three people on it. So in the next few days after launch, after L-Day, I was happiest when I was alone, on the bridge, in a few hours’ shift, and I went to the point of doing several four-hour shifts back to back, letting other people rest.

  The lone shifts looking into deep space or the bleeps on the screens weren’t as restful or as peaceful as before. Ghosts came rushing in. Ghosts of burnt bodies, cooked by fire, by pressure and radiation, floating in the void. Ghosts of ships exploding and torpedoes running. Ghosts of sweet eyes and soft words. Ghosts of love. Long gone love.

  But still, nothing else smoothed my mind. Work made me realize the sour taste in my mouth. Sleep never came easily in my cabin. Walks helped, but they weren’t too convenient. Only the bridge, looking outside, watching other ships in the distance, the sun, the stars, let me slide into some kind of numb meditation. Breathing in and breathing out.

  To my surprise, after a few days into the voyage, Mirany Cavo started to come by, when I was alone. And she would stay for a while. A few hours even. The first day we exchanged some small talk and then settled into silence for a long time. It was strange, and it felt weary for a bit. But then it became comfortable. When she left, she took a finger to her forehead, smiled and said: “You have the bridge, First Officer.”

  The second day we talked a bit longer. She asked me:

  “Byllard Iddo… How do your friends call you? Byl? Lardy? ‘Billiard Ball’?”

  I almost laughed with her.

  “Byl,” I answered.