Jethro 3: No Place Like Home

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Jethro 3: No Place Like Home Page 15

by Chris Hechtl


  “I think I'd rather fight the Horathians. It's a quicker death.”

  “Death by paper cuts my former commanders used to say,” Horatio chuckled. “And yeah, sometimes combat seems welcome. Or dying in combat. I swear, they say it's to glean as much knowledge out of an incident and pass on what was learned, both the intel, command decisions, and hardware issues...but you'd think they'd make it easier.” He smiled. “There was a belief, not completely unfounded by the way, that the grilling was to make captains think twice about entering combat.”

  “For fear of what comes after,” Renee murmured. She eyed Horatio. “Thanks for carrying on that tradition,” she said in mock disgust.

  “No problem Commander, anytime,” he said, clapping her on the shoulder. She snorted.

  “Did I pass?”

  “Formal review and a vote of confidence by the board. This is an impromptu board of inquiry really. We're still getting things straight. Dotting our I's and crossing our T's.”

  “Sometimes a little rough edges doesn't hurt, sir,” she said.

  “Yeah, well,” he smiled ferally. She felt ants; ants with cold feet run up and down her spine. “Keep telling yourself that.”

  “I don't. I actually want perfection. But I am a realist. I can compromise, but don't tell the crew that. I still need an excuse to find something wrong for them to get right.”

  Horatio snorted softly and nodded. “True. It works for me too.”

  “So what next, sir? If you don't mind my asking.”

  “We hold a vote with you absent.”

  “And...”

  “And we decide if you get to keep your command or not,” he said simply. She blinked and sucked in a breath. She hadn't known the stakes were quite that high. He nodded soberly, eyes locked on hers. “Yes, there is indeed a chance in being bold Commander. For the next few hours you are no longer Captain of the Firefly. We'll settle that, then see about your proposal,” he said.

  She nodded curtly, sternly telling herself to not let them see her sweat or see her fear. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Matilda return to her seat. Horatio looked at her again with stern eyes for a long moment. Whatever he saw there he didn't respond too. Instead he nodded simply and then turned and rapped a gavel. “Board of inquiry is now returned to session. Commander Logan, Commander Mayweather, please excuse us while we discuss your report,” he said.

  Both commanders nodded and left the compartment.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  “So, I mean, the board...is it as bad as I think it is?” Shelby sent in a tight text message to her Captain.

  Renee looked at her and then shrugged slightly. “It could be,” she texted back. She didn't like to send texts; she wasn't good at it. She always wanted to use a virtual keyboard.

  “You're out of practice, Captain,” Shelby replied reprovingly.

  “So sue me,” Renee replied. She sighed. “This sucks,” she said out loud.

  “Never let them see the fear,” Shelby sent, then sat back, resting her head against the bulkhead. She glanced at the Marines and then closed her eyes. “Damn, you can talk a lot skipper,” she sent. “I didn't know you could do that.”

  “Funny, really funny,” Renee replied. “Just for that you can do catch up paperwork when we get back.”

  “If we get back. Can they really beach us?” Shelby asked.

  “Me, yes. You, I'm not so sure about.” Briefly she considered the situation from Horatio's point of view. She could see someone else pushing her aside for nepotism, clearing the way for his daughter. Horatio though...she'd gotten to know him. He was a straight shooter. He probably wasn't happy about her taking such a risk with Firefly, but he understood. Or at least seemed he did.

  “We'll see. I'm betting you get a medal,” Shelby said.

  “Thanks but no thanks. I just want to get my ship back,” Renee replied, forcing herself to remain seated. She wanted to get up and pace, but knew better. “If I could, I'd be in combat right now. It's simpler. Safer.”

  “That too.”

  “But think of the paperwork afterward,” Shelby teased.

  “You are so not helping, Mayweather growled mockingly.

  Shelby snorted. “Sorry,” she giggled. Mayweather sighed.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Ensign Esh'z was one unhappy bug. The Veraxin Marine was doing what he loved, intelligence. He loved a good mystery, he loved teasing the clues out of seemingly mundane stacks of material, and then either putting them together himself or passing it on to an analyst who had the larger picture. He wasn't an analyst in his MOS though; he was a field intelligence officer.

  Which was a problem, Pyrax had only three major sources of intelligence, the prisoners, and the replicated databases. The AI were all over the databases, and well, since he was a Veraxin, he couldn't very well participate in the prisoner interviews with Naval Intelligence. He'd tried, but the bigoted apes had clammed up.

  The third major source of intelligence of any value was on the ships that passed through the system. Well, the ships and the people, but for the most part the ships. Interviewing the people was hard, tedious, and time consuming. Worse, most didn't want to participate in the first place, and none wanted to throw in hours of their time, or even days if it something seemed of value.

  The ships databases fell in the purview of Naval Intelligence. They were all over that. Lieutenant Teague sometimes took charge, if she was around. But did they share? Never. Well, almost never.

  Which had, in his frustration, led him to put in for a transfer. When he'd heard about the activity in Antigua he'd thought that getting to Agnosta would allow him to see what was coming in, and perhaps allow him to eventually transfer to Antigua to be in on the action. He realized now that was a mistake.

  Because he was free, he'd been tapped for something worse, duty on Firefly. Firefly was where the action was, and he'd get his chance at getting the clues he desired...but he had to stay alive first.

  Which bothered him. He was a Marine, he admitted he was a soldier, he went where he was told. But he was an intelligence officer not a grunt. His job was to be behind the lines, or on a senior officer’s staff, not boarding ships and getting shot at! He clacked his mandibles a few times in annoyance as he finished packing.

  The one good thing about it all was that he would be getting out of Pyrax. And whatever happened in B101a1, he'd have the trip out to go through Firefly's records of the Antigua action in transit. Once the shooting was over in B101a1, if there was any shooting to begin with that was, he'd have plenty to go over there as well.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  Commander Shelby Logan tried to act relaxed as she waited outside the compartment. With nothing better to do, she signed onto the Annex net and got caught up on the news. The political crap disgusted her so much though that after a few minutes she switched to doing paperwork. That was simpler, and it made her feel...she winced. She really was coming down in the world if she actually liked doing paperwork! She snorted to herself quietly and then glanced at the others.

  There were four Marines with them, three human, the other a Veraxin. The Veraxin was stiffly standing at attention, but something about the tall blond human standing on the other side of the hatch seemed relaxed but alert. The other two humans were sitting in seats, looking bored or asleep.

  The blond Marine guarding the hatch cocked his head, and then cleared his throat. Shelby opened one eye. He nodded to the hatch. “They are ready for you, ma'am,” he said simply.

  She nodded and got to her feet. She turned to her Captain as Renee rose slowly. She brushed off her seat and then did a quick check before they turned to the hatch.

  “Back into the fray,” Shelby heard her Captain mutter as they entered.

  The hatch closed behind them, and they came to attention.

  “The board has come to a preliminary decision in regards to the Antigua combat,” Horatio intoned, all business. “As senior officer on scene, you exercised your initiativ
e, responded to a threat to a civilian system and neutralized it. Well done. Very well done.”

  Captain Mayweather nodded mutely.

  “We'll go over the report and recommendations from the board and decide on any awards at a later time.”

  “Thank you, sir. I'd prefer to retain my command.”

  “Done Captain.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Mayweather said, keeping her shoulders from slumping in relief. She felt a knot in her back; she had been standing straight for so long it and her shoulders were starting to bother her. She ignored the annoyance as unworthy of her.

  “Now, you have a proposal for us. I am a little leery about it, but go ahead,” Horatio said, sitting back and drumming his fingers briefly. After a moment he indicated the podium once more. “You have the floor.”

  “That's ominous,” Matilda said.

  “No, what's on the other side of the Beta 101a1 jump point is ominous ma'am,” Renee replied moving to the podium as the lights dimmed.

  “Oh?”

  “As I said in my after-action report, we gathered intel from the Horathian survivors and their computers. Admiral Cartwright committed suicide, but we managed to get some limited intel on a second Horathian task force, this one commanded by a Rear Admiral Rico. Its aim is this system.”

  “Here?” Matilda asked.

  “Yes, ma'am,” Renee nodded. She glanced at Monty. “I received my orders to return to this system because intel had other signs of an impending attack,” she said nodding her head to Monty.

  The intel chief frowned but then nodded. “Some, but not a lot. I've gone over what your people picked up and what we've got. It dovetails neatly. But we're still shy on details.”

  “You knew?” Matilda demanded.

  “It was classified as rumor. We picked up some intel from a bar along with some other sources. Not enough to go on though,” Monty said. “Nothing concrete.”

  “Nothing is ever certain,” Horatio said. “Setting the intel question aside for the moment, you had something specific in mind?” He asked.

  Renee nodded.

  “What is it?” Matilda asked, voice rising in exasperation. “You have a proposal in mind?”

  “A reconnaissance in force, ma'am. A spoiler raid. A hit and run attack to break up their attack, stall them, and buy us time,” Renee replied.

  “No,” Matilda growled, shaking her head. She looked at Horatio but he was quiet and seemingly made of stone.

  “Time to do what precisely?” Decius asked, ignoring Matilda's knee jerk reaction.

  “To arm more, train, get forces to the jump point area. Time is a precious thing sir.”

  “Agreed.”

  “No,” Matilda said shaking her head. “We can't afford a repeat of Antigua. Sure it went well, but that was luck! I know you don't rely on luck when you plan these sorts of things. We can't afford to lose Firefly let alone any other ships that go with her! We're thin enough as it is!”

  “Ma'am, my plan to pop in and hit and run has an alternate strategy,” Renee said, signaling the holotable to change. A strategic diagram of the systems was presented. Firefly's icon was there. It went into the system. “My proposal is if they are there, jump short, outside the normal jump point coordinates, assess the situation, and either jump back into hyper, or hit them in cloak. Come in on a flank, hammer what we can and then jump for home. If they follow...” she paused as the map updated, showing Firefly jumping into Pyrax. Around her were the fortresses and other ships waiting.

  “They'll jump into an ambush on our terms,” Decius said, waving his antenna. “Our timing, our conditions. Turn a defensive action into an offensive one.”

  “Yes. A fire trap. Suck them in, and then hammer them into dust,” Renee replied as Firefly exited the fire sack just as the enemy exited hyper. The ships and fortresses flashed, firing. “Basically a repeat of what the Admiral did in this system at the Agnosta jump point but in larger form.”

  “I like it,” the ensign in charge of Logistics said, nodding enthusiastically.

  “No,” Matilda said stubbornly, though her resolve seemed to be weakening. Behind Renee the image of Firefly looped back to join the battle.

  “A net.”

  “If they don't bite off more than they can chew again,” Matilda growled.

  “With respect, ma'am. We didn't in Antigua,” Shelby said stubbornly.

  “You damn near choked on that fleet.”

  “If this Admiral Rico has the same forces arrayed, ma'am...”

  “And if he doesn't? This plan is insane.”

  “If it's insane and it works...”

  Doctor Thornby snorted and then laughed. The others looked at her as her outburst of laughter stopped. “Sorry,” she said. “I was just thinking of Antigua. You did well there. But we need you intact. You can't keep beating the odds you know.”

  “I know, ma'am. I have no intention of taking them on single handed.”

  “Could have fooled me,” Matilda muttered.

  “Sir, for this to work, we'd need all the firepower on the jump point or near it as possible.”

  Horatio nodded. He still didn't look at all convinced.

  “Including Bismark,” Shelby supplied. Her father blinked.

  “Bismark? The battleship? She's not ready. She'd be worthless in a battle. A sop.”

  “A turtle. A big target. Is that what you intend? For the enemy to target her? Or turn and run? We can't afford them to get away, Captain, Commander.”

  “We have a lot of work tied up in that ship. We can't throw it away...” The ensign said looking at Horatio.

  “We can't afford additional damage,” Horatio rumbled.

  “No, sir,” Shelby said, shaking her head. She sent a signal to the holo image. Bismark was added, but far enough back from the battle. “They don't know that the ship is only a shell. She's essentially a bluff.”

  “I see,” Decius said, bobbing his antenna. “You are essentially over awing them with firepower.”

  “Yes,” Shelby replied. “It is a bluff, to awe them or break their resolve. It takes time to recharge and compute a plot for hypernavigators, and to turn a ship around. If they see it, some will scatter, some will fold. We can hunt them down when they break up.”

  “The best defense is a good offense,” Thornby said. “I like it.”

  “You aren't normally so bloody minded,” Matilda said, eying the doctor.

  “I'm always a proponent of forward medicine. Education,” she smiled slightly and nodded to Matilda, “But also aggressive scanning and treatment of a disease before it gets out of hand. Catch something early enough you can nip it in the bud. If we let the enemy keep building forces in the B101a1 system, eventually they'll be able to overwhelm us.”

  “True, ma'am,” Shelby replied with a nod. “There is something else to consider. If the reports are valid, Admiral Irons will be passing through that system, if he hasn't already.”

  A cold stillness suddenly filled the room.

  “We don't have a choice do we?” Thornby asked softly.

  “He'd do it for us in a heartbeat,” Matilda said, frowning. She nodded, turning to Horatio.

  “Unfortunately, it's not that simple. We have a duty. A duty to our people, to the civilians in this system, and in the sector,” Horatio said quietly.

  “But the Admiral...”

  “Would be first to understand this,” Horatio replied, face tight. Shelby grimaced but nodded.

  “We're not going to make this decision now. I'm going to wait,” Horatio said. The staff turned to him. “I want time to go over the intel we have and run it through the various shops. In the meantime, Firefly will resupply and have a thorough going over by the Yard. We'll expedite it as quickly as we can.”

  “Aye, sir.”

  “Dismissed then. I'll have my yeoman call you to schedule a meeting when I have an answer,” he said.

  The Captain and XO nodded and came to attention. He nodded back and then turned and exited the co
mpartment.

  Outside Renee hid a grimace. “And now we wait.”

  “Not exactly,” Shelby replied softly as they walked through the annex. “He did say to resupply and get Firefly ship shape. I think he's leaning towards it.”

  “Good. We'll get on it then,” Renee replied.

  ---( | ) --- ( | )---

  “Sir, I noticed activity in the yard...” Captain Mayweather said with a knowing smile. Commander Logan looked much better, more alive and less worn. He still had a mantle of age about him, a weight of command on his shoulders he couldn't quite shrug off. Anti-geriatric treatments was holding his age at where it was, it had even rolled back a few issues, but he still had a worn look about it. Command was hell, Renee thought. At least for this man.

  “Saw that did you?” Horatio asked, smiling politely. He glanced at his daughter and nodded. “Don't get your hopes up; we did get some care packages but not quite enough to get Prometheus off the beach.”

  “Darn,” Shelby said mildly.

  “A couple care packages, sir?” Renee asked, looking at her exec and then to the Commander.

  Logan nodded. “Yes. You know about the Destiny and Lieandra of course. They each carried some critical supplies and data from the Admiral. I've put what I could to use.”

  “Four new ships?”

  The old man shook his head. “Try twenty. And not just ships, orbital fortresses as well. We're stretched thin, probably too thin if you look at it from a logistics view point, but so far so good.”

  Shelby whistled in appreciation. “That many?”

  Horatio looked at her and then smiled. “I've got my own ideas. Four are hyper capable, the rest are sublight. Hell, Kittyhawk is little more than a barge, but at least she's semifunctional.”

  “And a mobile platform is better than a drifting rock,” Renee replied with a nod. She'd hate being in an orbital fort, stuck in one place waiting for something to happen. The old axiom that it was better to be bored than busy ran through her mind. She shook her head. She made a small mental bet that at least a quarter of those fortress crews ran through a lot of antacid and had ulcers.

 

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