by Chris Hechtl
“So, what now?” the Captain asked when the engineers were done their initial work. “Harrying off to who knows where?”
“We left some people behind in New Andres. And they, quite frankly, need our help. Your help if you are willing to lend it,” Renee said.
She knew from the Admiral's bio of the Captain that the prickly woman had to be approached carefully. She and her partner, the purser, were quite mercenary. That was fine; they could work out some sort of deal, though with Io's replicators she was at a loss as to what off the top of her head.
“I'm not sure about going there. I sympathize and all...” the Captain said. She had officiated over the funerals the day before and had been touched by the Navy crew's splendid flourishes to it. They had honored Shandra and Fiona nicely.
She found out weaseling out of going to New Andres wasn't going to be so easy. Some of crew were from New Andres, and they each took a turn to convince the reluctant Captain to go to the planet with Firefly and render what aide to the battered planet that they could to help. “There is no profit in it,” she grumbled, waving a hand and frowning in disgust. She looked around the compartment and found many of the faces closed to such sentiment, even her adopted granddaughters.
Emily had a touch of disappointment in her eyes before she looked away. The older woman stiffened, then looked to her long-time partner as Iana inhaled, clearly furious.
“Be damned to profit! My family is down there!” The woman raged, eyes tearing up. “You'd do the same skipper!” she said pleadingly. The Captain stared at her crew and then looked around her bridge, picking up the same vibe from all her people.
“Shandra and Fiona would have wanted us to help,” a woman said softly. The Captain of Molly, Faith Meikle, was quiet.
“Sometimes as the Admiral pointed out, it doesn't hurt to help those in need.” The purser murmured. “Besides, we may profit from making the contact and good will later,” she said.
“All right, all right. We'll see what we can do,” the Captain said waving an airy hand. She could see and sense her girls let out a collective sigh of relief. “Charity cases, all of them. We're going to have people coming to us expecting a free handout soon, mark my words,” she muttered under her breath. The purser glanced at her and patted her arm but otherwise ignored the grumbling.
The ships refueled and then headed back to New Andres together. When they emerged from Hyper at the last jump point they saw the planet crest the sun's horizon. After a day they were close enough to start picking out details. They saw the battered planet and wreckage of Kiev 221.
“Com, raise them. Let our people know we're here,” the Captain ordered quietly. “Find out about our people.”
“Aye aye, ma’am,” Sharif replied, equally quiet.
Renee nodded. She looked around the old battle space but there was no sign of drifting debris. By now it had all dispersed into the void.
For once in her life she felt old. Old and worn to the nub. She dearly missed Vargess. She could use his arms enfolding her in a hug of support right now.
---(<=>)---
They arrived in orbit six days later. Now up close, their sensors dispassionately identified and recorded the extent of the damage. Even the misses had done damage, for some more than a direct hit. One of the ten-meter tungsten kinetic bombardments had hit off shore, triggering an earthquake and tsunami that had engulfed the entire Western coastline of a continent. Islands in its path had been washed clean of fishing villages. So had the Western shore. Some of the battered wooden ships had ended up as splintered broken debris a hundred kilometers inland.
Crop land had been washed out with sea water, the salt contaminating it for years to come. There was concern of famine soon. “Much like the ancient Terran Romans, sowing salt in the fields behind them out of spite,” the elf murmured.
“Yes,” Firefly agreed quietly. “I had hoped to never see such devastation again.”
“Is it as bad as you saw during the Xeno war?” Leo asked.
“No. But in some ways yes. This is our own people doing this to us. Not an alien species bent on extermination.”
“Sometimes it is hard to distinguish the two. You know that there are some speculation that the Xeno's haven't died off. That the Horathian's are their puppets.”
“A possibility, but a very unlikely one. Their Xenophobia is mutually exclusive.”
“Hide in plain sight, where people least expect you to be Firefly,” Renee reminded the AI.
“True. And I am glad I'm not in intelligence,” he replied. She raised an eyebrow in query. He smiled and spread his virtual hands. “At least I don't have to untangle that mess and chase down phantom leads.”
“True,” Renee said, looking a little lost.
“Still this sucks,” the AI said, knowing when to lance a mental wound and draw out the poison before it set into the soul.
“That it does. That it does indeed,” Renee said quietly. Her fingers slowly caressed the arms of her chair. She usually treasured them, treasured her seat, the feeling of power, responsibility, and command. But not today. Today, it all felt...cheap. Like it wasn't worth it. That she had failed.
“Pyrrhic victory,” Firefly said quietly. “I've seen my share of them in my time. I had hoped to have seen the last. I was wrong.”
“Yes, something like that,” Renee said absently. “I wish you had been wrong too. This feels...awful. Wrong.”
“We're supposed to protect them from this and we failed. I know what you are going through Captain, I've seen it too much,” Firefly said. “But think of what they would have done or had continued to have done had we not been here.”
“I'm more concerned about what to do now, and how to prevent a future...this,” the Captain said, clearly furious as she waved a hand to the screen. “There was no need of this. They had nothing to do with us.”
“No, but they were helpless. A target,” the AI replied.
“Which is still screaming for help. Help we can't do much to provide,” the Captain replied, running a frustrated hand through her hair. Even with their replicators they were woefully short on being able to help the people on the planet.
“No, but Io 11 and Molly are already launching shuttles,” Firefly said, pulling up a plot and highlighting their icons for her.
“Good for them. At least they can do something.”
“We can to. It will never feel like it is enough, but we'll do the best we can. That is all anyone can ask of us, Captain.”
“I know,” Renee murmured softly.
The crews from all three ships did their best to help. Four of the eight fighters Firefly had launched had survived to land. One had crashed on landing, running out of fuel. The pilot was a bit banged up from the ground ejection, but he'd survived and had dived into the search and rescue efforts.
All four of the shuttles had made it to the planet after picking up what fuel they could from the wreckage of Kiev. They had found a measly fourteen survivors, all injured. Two had succumbed to their injuries before the ships had returned.
In the interim time it had taken to hunt down their assassins, the surviving leadership of the planet had gotten over their suspicion of the Marines and had worked with them in the desperate and sometimes heart breaking work of search and rescue. The shuttle's tiny food replicators had been overworked feeding and replicating what medical kits it could handle. The Marines had set up a fuel supply for the shuttles and had even tapped their power plants to provide power to the refugee camps that had sprung up around the shuttles.
Families took shelter in improvised tents and shelters. Some were huddled under the wings of the shuttlecraft. Those that had been irradiated by the poison in the atmosphere had died or were in the process of dying an agonizing death. Doctor Standish and the medics on Io 11 did their best to ease their suffering.
Work crews dug ditches for sanitation, organized water sterilization groups, and food gatherers. A few of the Marines hunted, others acted as guards and police
to keep order in the camps. A few others donated their off time to help improve the shelters before the long cold winter came.
Renee was busy coordinating the efforts of her people with the Captain of Io 11, Captain Meikle, the two AI, and the planetary authorities. It was good for all involved she realized after the first week. It got their mind off dwelling about the helplessness of the situation and got them doing something about it.
Io's big replicators did a great deal to help. She couldn't make additional replicators, nor could Firefly, but they could make massive amounts of survival gear, medical supplies, and other material if they were provided with the raw material. Pilots from both ships were kept busy running loads to and from the ships. Unfortunately Molly lacked industrial replicators, being just a cargo ship. Her utility in the situation was limited. She moved out to the Kiev 221 carcass with a work crew and picked the ship apart. At first Renee didn't really see the point, but apparently the ship brought back a lot of metal and materials for molecular furnaces to recycle.
She had been astonished to find out that Molly was a new ship, freshly built. She had been on her maiden flight, testing her wings on their trip to Antigua. Apparently Captain Meikle was the former chief engineer of Io 11. Her replacement was a young woman named Jennie. The Clydesdale was named in honor of an acting chief engineer who the Admiral had known. She made a note to pass that on to him when she had the opportunity.
The survivors of Kiev 221 pitched in wherever they could. All of them were spacers they planned to join the crew of Molly. Some had family that had stayed behind in Antigua on the prime space station. From them Lieutenant Hang, who had survived to land on the planet, had learned that the Cutlass had been named the Argus. Her Captain, a Captain Opal, had been a brutal but very competent man. He had been ruthless. He'd trapped them in New Andres after Captain Chambers had diverted them to the system. Apparently Captain Chambers had thought their renewed speed would make the side trip worthwhile. They had paid in blood for such a mistake.
Intel debriefs of the Kiev 221 were mixed. The naval officers were keen to find out how the Horathians had broken the Admiral's lock out. Unfortunately none of the survivors knew. Nor did they know just how much the escaped ship had, or any details about it. Most had either been locked in their cabins or used as grunt labor to move the cargo out of the Kiev's holds.
“So, we do know they got some of it,” Renee mused.
“Based on the speed of that Clydesdale, oh most definitely ma'am,” Leo said. “We've got some mass readings from her, and we can get a rough estimate of her cargo based on comparing that to her warbook numbers for her dry empty mass. But we don't know what the ratio is to what they already had in their holds...”
“So we're guessing,” Renee replied in disgust. Leo nodded and spread his hands.
Most likely the Clydesdale had jumped to Centennial, then on to B452c and then from there who knew. Most likely she headed on a straight line course to the nearest Horathian safe port.
Renee had also found out that Io 11 had replaced half her point defense lasers turrets with rail guns. The primitive weapons hadn't been as effective as the original lasers, but the originals had been needed to give Molly some level of self defense.
Eventually though, the authorities and the Captains decided to get help from the nearest source, which was Antigua. Io told them both ships would be heading there after the initial clean up. New Andres was an off the beaten path place to visit, but she had quite a good population and all were very interested in not only trade, but in rejoining the Federation.
“Good,” Commodore Firefly responded. He and the ship AI Io had hit it off. Renee had twittered him a bit about romancing another ship AI and he hadn't risen to the bait. Renee had finally backed off, realizing it wasn't part of her business.
Two weeks after they had arrived in orbit, the planetary authorities on New Andres asked to join the New Federation and get additional support. Captain Meikle agreed with them. She'd spent a great deal of time coordinating the engineering efforts on the planet when her ship had been in orbit. With her and the engineers’ efforts they had repaired several hydroelectric dams and set up several water filtration plants. They'd also put a lot of kitchen sink chemistry and garage mechanic knowledge to work to try to plug as many holes as possible. More importantly, she'd taught them how to apply the simple tech and recreate it with hand tools and whatever materials they had on hand. The shuttle deliveries spread the documentation far and wide to help there too.
Renee promised a return flight to check on the planet. “I can't make any promises with Command, but I can request a ship or ships come by to help with the rebuilding efforts.”
“We would appreciate that,” Mayor Sedrige replied. He nodded.
“Molly will return probably, if only to stuff herself like a glutton again,” Renee teased Captain Meikle.
“Ah, don't fash yourself. We pulled the dribs and drabs we can fix for later. The rest went into the cook pot,” she said, waving a hand. Hearing this Gaelic accent took a little getting used to Renee thought. She knew both of the civilian ships had stuffed themselves quite well. All three ships were fully refueled and repaired as best they could. She was certain the natives wouldn't begrudge that.
“I can bring Molly back. If you want Io to remain in Antigua Captain,” Captain Meikle said, looking at the Captain of Io 11.
The old woman waved a gnarled hand. The other held her shawl. “We'll discuss it enroute, Faith. No doubt to death. Vanessa's been on to me about this plan to build another ship. It seems she'd rather we spend our time running around than in one place building. She does have a point,” she said. “Besides,” she said with a twinkle. “We can always trade with the people in Antigua or Pyrax to build another ship,” she said.
“Aye,” Faith replied with a grin. “That we can,” she said.
“Do you think you can catch up with that freighter that escaped?” Mayor Sedrige asked.
Renee shrugged. She'd pretty much given up the hunt on that. “We can try. But she's got good legs and quite a head start. We'll track her though. If she's left our sector we'll pass on her fingerprint to the rest of the Navy. That way we'll all keep an eye out for her. Eventually someone will catch her,” she growled.
“Good,” Faith growled with a nod. The others grimly agreed as well. The three Captains shook hands with each other and the planetary delegates before they then parted company for their respective ships.
Renee related the encounter to Firefly and her bridge watch as they moved out. She was pleased that Firefly and her engineers had managed to build some replacement missiles. They had only built a couple of each, four capital missiles and six counter missiles, but she felt a little better over it. She also felt good about the material they had tucked away on board. With Firefly's emergency restock key code trick they could wipe away at least 5 percent of their missile losses before they returned to Gaston.
“Fuel situation sorted out?” Renee asked. She didn't like how low the efficiency of the reactors were running. They'd run through a lot of fuel in a short series of hops. Of course the distances hadn't had a lot of pockets of free energy in hyperspace for the ship to use either. It was one reason that even though the chain of jumps was ten parsecs shorter than the Agnosta route to Antigua it wasn't as well used. It may be shorter but it used a lot more fuel and had no places to stop and refuel. They'd have to do something about that sometime, she vowed.
“Aye Captain. We're topped off. It's not as good as premium Deuterium and He3, but it will be enough to get us to Gaston,” Saul said with a nod.
“We need to get that fuel situation sorted out better, chief,” Renee said. He nodded. “Dismissed, go play with the drive. See if you can get some more joules out of the fuel,” she said. The Chief Engineer nodded and exited. Renee turned to the ship AI who nodded to her. “I'm glad they want to join the Federation though. A bit out of the way, but hey, any port in a storm I suppose,” she said.
“They
want to prevent this from ever happening again. I get that. But we can't be everywhere at once,” the tired XO said, shaking his head. Renee nodded. She was proud of him, he'd gotten some of the rough edges off and he'd worked like a trooper.
“No. They aren't expecting that, they know we can't stay. But they want to help. Some of their people have asked to join up,” Firefly said.
“Revenge?” Renee asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Or like you said skipper, duty. To never let this happen again.”
The Captain nodded, tugging on her jacket and then adjusting her the sleeves of her cuffs. “Good.”
“A light in the dark, Captain. Like you said. A guiding hand.”
“Hell with that adventure. The young will go for it,” Commander Dart said. “But I agree; they want to keep this from happening again. Here or elsewhere. I speak for the crew when I say so do I.”
“I know. Perhaps some good will have come from this...mess. Someday,” Renee replied, waving a hand.
“I hope so too. We're documenting all of it for others to see. Back home and across the sector. Why we are fighting and what the bastards plan to do to others if they get the chance.”
“I'm not thrilled about showing them in their moment of pain and anguish. They just lost loved ones. They are still digging out their dead to bury.”
“I know. But in that we see a determination. To go on. To rebuild. To fight,” Firefly said softly.
“A light in the dark. I get that now. Thank you.”
“Sometimes, you have to take what good you can out of something bad like this. Even if it is very little.”
“I never knew the ashes of victory would taste so foul. That we could win so little at the cost of so many lives.”
“Pyrrhic victory.”
The Captain took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly. “Yes.” She shook her head, eyes looking out at the battered planet below. “I don't have to like it.”
“I know. None of us do. All I can say is that we'll learn from it and rebuild,” Firefly said.