Valor At Vauzlee

by DePrima, Thomas

  "Lt. Commander Carver has been placed where she belongs;" Admiral Hillaire said, "on the bridge of a warship. If ever an officer deserved such a posting, it's she. And I'm delighted to see the wisdom of this Board's decision in that regard proven so quickly and so affirmatively."

  "And now Gavin has placed her in command of the Song. Carver is too young and immature for such a posting. Mark my words, this will end badly."

  "Donald, calm down," Admiral Moore said. "The battle is over. We won. Commander Carver is fully capable of overseeing repair efforts until a new commanding officer can be assigned to the Song."

  * * *

  The imposed blackout on personal communications was lifted seven days following the battle. The brief suspension had given Supreme Headquarters adequate time to notify the next of kin of those who had made the ultimate sacrifice in service to the Galactic Alliance. It also gave the War College the time it needed to review the submitted logs and prepare statements to the press before someone learned of the battle through a communication home by a serving member in Space Command or the Space Marine Corps.

  Jenetta sent prepared messages to her parents and brothers as soon the ban was lifted. She knew that her mother, especially, would have begun to worry when word of the battle was announced and she hadn't heard from Jenetta. She told them in her messages that her arrival at Earth would be delayed by a month, but that she was fine and hadn't been injured in the battle.

  In the messages to her brothers, she signed off as ‘Lt. Commander Jenetta Alicia Carver, Captain of the Song, GSC-CH502.' She knew that they couldn't help but notice it, and there was a small personal amusement in knowing that they would be shocked by the news. When they'd been children, she'd always fought for recognition from her siblings, but rarely received any. Now, already the most famous officer in Space Command, she had stolen another march on them. She was the first of the Carvers, since her great-grandfather, to actually be appointed captain of a ship as large as a heavy cruiser. She didn't use the title or say anything about it in the message to her parents because her father had only risen to command a frigate. Larger than a destroyer at six-hundred-meters in length and three-hundred-five-thousand tons, the Cromwell, GSC-F839, had a ship's complement of 1100, and was about a third smaller in size and weight than the Kamakura-class heavy cruisers.

  Jenetta was delighted when she returned to her quarters several evenings later and found three personal messages waiting for her. She played the one from her mother first.

  "Hi, honey," the smiling face of her mother said, "I'm glad that you're fine and so thankful that you weren't injured in that battle. News of it has been playing on all the vid channels for the past several days. Space Command created a reenactment of the battle from the logs submitted by the captain of each ship and gave it to the media. I was horrified when I saw your ship, the Prometheus, arrive where the convoy was being attacked and take on all forty-one enemy warships by itself. Whoever came up with that battle plan should be fired on the spot. I never heard of such a thing."

  Jenetta smiled and wondered if she should tell her mother that it was her plan.

  "I was so relieved when the Chiron and the others began to arrive to help you out. It's a miracle that you weren't all injured, or even killed. And I certainly don't understand how you wind up in the middle of every fight. Don't they have anybody else out there? Your father just laughed when I asked him that. Anyway, I'm glad you're safe. Knowing that makes it easier to wait the extra month until you arrive home. Everybody on the base is just dying to see you again. All your friends from high school have been calling to ask when you'll arrive and many of the girls from the Academy have been messaging me for news. I think you're going to be pretty busy when you get home, but be sure to reserve enough time for your family. Oh, there's the timer. I have to go. Your father is preparing his own message in the study so it will probably arrive about the same time as this one. Take care of yourself, honey. I love you. Bye."

  Jenetta smiled and played the one from her father next.

  "Hello, Captain. You neglected to mention that little fact in your message, but word has already spread around the base that the entire senior staff of the Song was killed in the battle and that Captain Gavin, as task force commander, appointed you to take command of the stricken ship. I guess you never were one for tooting your own horn, and these days you don't have to. There seems to be a lot of people anxious to toot it for you. I know that the appointment is just temporary, since you're only a Lt. Commander, but the fact that Gavin chose you, over everyone else in the ten ship task force to handle the job of getting the ship reorganized after the tragedy that befell it, speaks volumes. It shows the confidence and trust he has in you. Among the ten ships in the task force, there has to be at least thirty command officers with more seniority in rank or time in grade than yourself. That you were appointed as captain is quite a complement, honey.

  "I must say that I was at first stunned by the audacity of the attack plan Gavin chose, but I certainly can't argue its success. You took out the command ship and two of the cruisers before the Raiders even began to target you. On reflection, if you had attacked in force, they would certainly have noticed your approach long before you could have targeted any of their ships. And if they had known how many ships were in the task force, they might have broken off their attack and run for the safety of FTL before you had a chance to damage them seriously. Overall, I have to say that the plan was— inspired. Gavin is to be commended for his innovative battle strategy. Since we've never fought a major enemy in space, I suppose that most of the tactics taught at the War College are inadequate for such encounters, and simply rely on our having overwhelming force in vessel numbers and weapon strength. Gavin's tactics are sure to be added to the curriculum. You're indeed fortunate to have him as a commanding officer. Watch him closely, sweetheart, and you'll learn a lot. There's the timer so I have to go. Give'em hell, honey. I love you. Bye bye."

  Jenetta smiled. Now she knew she couldn't tell her parents that it was her battle plan. If her dad knew he'd be embarrassed after the way he had just praised Gavin for it. It didn't really matter if he never learned. She knew that he loved her and was proud of her for the things that she had accomplished. That was enough.

  The last of the three messages was from her brother, Richie. Of her four brothers, she had always felt closest to Richie. Billy was the eldest, and seemed to feel that he had to set an example for the others. It seemed to keep him a bit aloof. Andy and Jimmy, the twins, had each other for close companionship. Richie had fought for his own recognition, but never felt that he had to be a role model, and he had always watched over Jenetta a little more than the others, all of whom would have ground into pulp anyone who hurt her. In the animated image of her family that could always be found on her dresser, Richie was the one standing next to her; the one who'd had the presence of mind to put his large hand on her small shoulder halfway through the images and make her appear more like a member of the family.

  "Hi sis," the image of a very serious Lt. Commander Richard Charles Carver said as the message played. "Don't you think it's about time you slowed down a little? You're making the rest of us Carvers look bad." But Richie couldn't hold the serious expression any longer than that and his face lit up with a wide smile. "I mean, after all, the rest of us want a chance with the Raiders too. I know that you were asleep for eleven years, but you don't have to make up for that entire time in just one year, do you? And now you're the captain of a heavy cruiser? My shipmates keep asking me to have you reassign us to a more forward area once you make Admiral next year."

  Richie chuckled. "Seriously, sis, I'm happy for you, and proud of my little sister. You've done some incredible things, and you deserve all the praise that's being heaped upon you." Faking a stern and serious expression again as he waggled his right index finger at her, he said, "But don't think that you're going to make Commander before I do. There's more than one Carver who wants to kick Raider ass and take names in th
is galaxy. They'd better be prepared for all out war by the Carvers now that you've set the bar."

  Smiling again, he said, "Take care of yourself, Jen. And don't let all the adulation go to your head. I can still beat you at Annihilator X-006 any time you want to take the gloves off and sit down at a console with me."

  Jenetta smiled as she thought of the thousands of times she had played the vid game with Richie when they were young. They must have played five hundred games before she got her first win.

  The messages wiped away most of the strain she'd been feeling and left only a feeling of bone-weary tiredness. As she slipped into bed, she was still thinking about the messages and wearing the smile that had adorned her face since she first saw her mom's face fill the com screen.

  * * *

  The section of the Song hull where two torpedoes had dealt the ship such a devastating blow was finally sealed on the twelfth day following the battle. Work would continue in that area until several more layers of tritanium plating was added to complete the ship's armor requirements, but the Song's hull was once again fully sealed and pressurized, and the ship would soon be capable of returning to active service. The considerable internal damage to bulkheads, decks, plumbing, and electronics, other than emergency repairs, would have to wait until the ship reached a repair dockyard.

  When the last of the armor plating was in place, Jenetta loaned half of the Song's engineering crew to other ships still making emergency repairs, while the remainder continued to work on important, but lower priority, repairs such as the replacement of damaged sensors on the hull's exterior.

  On the twentieth day following the battle, Gavin announced that the damaged ships would continue on to Earth four days hence. By then, he estimated, all GSC ships would have their hulls pressurized and their engines capable of sustained travel at the ship's rated speed. The repair docks at Mars, already stockpiling necessary parts and equipment from damage lists prepared by the chief engineer of each ship, were making preparations to receive the seven heavily battered ships as soon as they arrived.

  The two GSC destroyers that had arrived at the battle last, the Dublin and the Calcutta, hadn't suffered any battle damage. They would wait for the GSC salvage group dispatched to the site, and then accompany them back to the reclamation depot with the Delhi and the thirty-four destroyed Raider vessels. That was necessary to keep the Raiders from returning to salvage them. The holds of the two destroyers were filled with rescued Raider prisoners. In all, search and recovery teams had recovered one-thousand eight-hundred seventy-seven Raiders discovered in air-tight compartments. The military justice courts would be busy for quite a few months as the prisoners were tried and transported to a penal colony.

  Of the seven-hundred-forty-nine officers, noncoms, and ratings aboard the Delhi, only two-hundred eighty-seven were found alive. It was the worst loss aboard a Space Command vessel in over a hundred years, but when you looked at the ship, it seemed like a miracle that even that many had survived.

  * * *

  Chairman Gagarin, his face mottled with rage, stopped sputtering just long enough to catch his breath before continuing.

  "Councilman Strauss, you said that this Carver was posted to an insignificant position in an obscure area of the Science Section at Higgins. You said that she presented no further threat to us. Now we find out that not only is she not on Higgins, but that she's been promoted to Lt. Commander and assigned as the captain of a heavy cruiser at a battle site where we've just had our head handed to us."

  "The information about the posting on Higgins came from a normally reliable source and has been confirmed as accurate at the time the report was filed. He did inform us of Carver's promotion and reposting when it occurred."

  "But you didn't bother to communicate that information to the rest of us?"

  "What difference would it have made? I knew that it would only upset you, and she was temporarily out of your reach. We already have plans in place to take care of her when she reaches Earth."

  "You have no idea how far my reach extends. You think I couldn't have her killed just because she's aboard a Spacc warship?"

  "I think that to do so would seriously damage our intelligence infrastructure. It's incredibly difficult to turn Spaccs and we can't throw away a valuable resource on petty revenge that returns no profit.

  "Petty!" Gagarin screamed. "Do you know how much this escaped slave has cost us?"

  "I'm aware of the losses we suffered from the destruction of Raider-One, and of the ships and personnel she destroyed."

  "Then you know there's nothing petty about it."

  Strauss just looked down at the table. There was no point in arguing with Gagarin when he got like this. The man was a fool. He should never have been appointed to the Lower Council, much less named to chair it. He was a lot like Mikel Arneu, another man who consistently let his emotions cloud his reason.

  Development of the age prolongation process had been an outstanding achievement for Arneu. He had proposed it, pushed until he got funding, and then supervised the effort until the scientists produced results which they guaranteed would at least double life expectancy, and possibly increase it by as much as thirty to forty times normal, depending upon the age of the subject when it was administered. The incredible success of that project might even have earned Arneu a seat on the Lower Council. Strauss remembered how Arneu would practically salivate whenever he dangled the idea in front of him. But if Strauss had anything to say about it, Arneu would never sit on the Lower Council. He was useful and effective as a base commandant, but that's as high as Strauss felt he should ever ascend in the organization. The enticement of a position on the Lower Council was just ploy, a carrot on a stick to dangle in front of Arneu to keep him dedicated and working diligently.

  When the age prolongation process was lost with the destruction of Raider-One, it proved Strauss's point of Arneu's unsuitability for a seat on the Lower Council. In the ‘interest of security', he hadn't allowed detailed documentation regarding development of the new processes and formulas to be sent to another base, or even headquarters. If Gagarin had been able to get his hands on Arneu the day after Raider-One was destroyed, he would have throttled him on the spot. And if getting their hands on Carver would have allowed them to reverse engineer the process, they would have spared no expense or effort to do so. But their scientists said that it wasn't possible. The entire process would have to be developed again from scratch. At least they knew now that it was possible. Carver was a constant reminder that the human body can be remolded into whatever form they chose. And not just through careful gene manipulation prior to birth. Changes can be inaugurated from any point in the subject's lifecycle.

  "Did Carver have any part in our defeat at Vauzlee?" Gagarin asked Strauss.

  "How could she? She wasn't sent to the cruiser until after the battle."

  "I don't know how. That's why I asked. You're supposed to know such things. Your department is charged with gathering intelligence about everything the Spaccs do and why they do it."

  "It's too early to know why she was sent to the Song. It takes time to gather intelligence. There was a blackout on personal communications from the ships that fought at Vauzlee until a few days ago. We've only just heard from our contact aboard the Song. There hasn't been time for a full briefing or reassignment of tasks."

  "You have somebody on the ship?" Gagarin asked, his face reflecting a malevolent eagerness.

  "Yes."

  "Are they capable of assassinating Carver?"

  "The individual would have no reservations about it, but it's difficult to get close enough to a captain aboard their own ship, commit the act, and get away clean. Our people are in it for the money, not the cause, so we can't expect martyrdom."

  "Promise your person anything. I want Carver dead."

  "Anything?"

  "Up to a million credits."

  "A million credits? Just for killing one little girl? Wait five months until they reach Earth and the
deed will be accomplished for no more than ten thousand."

  "I waited once before and look where it's brought us. You promised that she couldn't hurt us again, yet she shows up in a command position at a place where we again suffered severe losses. I can feel it in my bones that she had a hand in that defeat. I want her killed, with all possible haste. I'll pay the million credits from my own slush account. I want her DEAD before our big operation commences. Do you understand? DEAD-DEAD-DEAD!"

  "Very well. I'll pass the order along to our contact aboard the Song."

  * * *

  On the day prior to the announced departure, Jenetta still hadn't been relieved of command aboard the Song. She fretted about it all morning, and then finally called the Prometheus just after 1400 hours to speak with Gavin.

  "Captain, I‘ve received no contact from my relief as yet."

  "Are you having problems, Commander?"

  "No problems, sir. It's just that the Prometheus is preparing to leave for Earth."

  "Yes, most of the task force is preparing to leave for Earth. We'll depart just after the Peabody convoy leaves at 2100 hours tomorrow."

  "Yes sir, but I'm still attached to the Song."

  "I realize that Commander, and you've done an excellent job over there. Rather than changing things around now, just remain where you are until we get to Earth. In a few months, when the Song goes into the Mars facility for repair, you'll report back to the Prometheus."

  "Aye, Captain."

  "Prometheus, out."

  "Song, out."

  Jenetta stood and paced around the room for several minutes while biting on her lower lip. After she had worked off most of her angst, she activated her CT by pressing her thumb onto the top of her Space Command ring. When the carrier was activated, she summoned Lieutenant Ashraf to the briefing room.

  "Yes, Captain?" Ashraf queried when she entered.

  "How are preparations for our departure proceeding?"

  "Here's a report on the state of the ship, ma'am," Ashraf said as she held out a viewpad to Jenetta. "We'll be ready to leave at the scheduled time, assuming our new captain has arrived."