Valor At Vauzlee

by DePrima, Thomas

  Galont should have restored those posts after Corriano was killed and Carver assumed command. The efforts to recover from the battle damage and the murder of PO Nichols had distracted him, and the situation had existed for so long that he hadn't even thought about restoration of the posts. So it was his fault that Pretorious had been able to get close enough to attempt an assassination.

  He tried to think of what he could say to her when she was feeling better, but how do you apologize to someone for allowing them to be shot and almost killed. It seemed he was even a failure at apologizing.

  * * *

  Jenetta came awake instantly when the computer delivered her regular 0600 wakeup call. A twinge of pain in her left side reminded her that she had been shot less than six hours earlier, but the pain was nowhere near as bad as she would have expected. She was careful not to put too much strain on the wound as she showered and prepared for the day ahead. She found that she began to feel considerably better as she moved around. Except for the occasional reminder of soreness, and being ravenously hungry, she felt almost well.

  Jenetta's first act after dressing was to contact the sickbay to learn what she could of Woodrow's condition.

  "He's going to recover just fine, Captain," Lt. Commander O'Neil said. "He just needs a week or two of bed rest."

  "Thank you, doctor. When can he receive visitors?"

  "Not before tomorrow. I want him to remain perfectly calm until then. Don't worry; we're looking after him. How are you feeling this morning?"

  "Fine. When I twist my body or bend over, I feel a slight bit of pain, but if I remain stationary, it completely clears up."

  "Until they heal, you'll continue to feel the pain any time you put stress on the damaged muscles. Do you still believe that you can perform your duties without an anodyne?"

  "As long as I don't have to fight off any assassins for a few days, I'll be fine."

  "Very well, Captain. Let me know if your condition changes. As soon as we dock at Higgins, I want you to report to sickbay for a complete examination."

  Jenetta nodded and pushed the viewscreen cover down on the bedside com unit. She brushed her hair quickly and prepared to walk to the officer's mess, but she heard noises coming from her dining room as she emerged from her bedroom. Walking to the door, she peered in. A mess steward, busy setting her place at the table, looked up.

  "Good morning, Captain. I'm Petty Officer 1st/c Cynthia Bartollow. Lieutenant Androsa has assigned me to be your steward in place of Chief Woodrow Casell, until he's ready to resume his duties. If you approve that is."

  "Yes, that's fine, Cynthia. I'd like a mug of Columbian coffee, black, two sugars, two sectioned grapefruit halves, six eggs, over easy, eight pieces of buttered toast, whole wheat, half a dozen sausages, a double side of hash brown potatoes, and a tall stack of pancakes with maple syrup."

  "Right away, ma'am," the mess steward said without even blinking. Jenetta instantly realized that Woodrow must have mentioned Jenetta's unusual appetite when speaking to the other mess stewards.

  When the food was served, Jenetta attacked the meal like she hadn't eaten in a week. She assumed that her altered body was working overtime to repair the damage and she did her best to fuel it by polishing off everything Cynthia prepared, in far less time than it took to prepare it. Prior to having her DNA altered by her Raider captors, the amount she'd just consumed would have lasted her a week.

  As she stepped out of her quarters on her way to the bridge, she almost walked into a Marine. He quickly braced to attention. She stopped short, expecting him to move around her and proceed down the corridor, or at least move out of her way, but he remained rooted where he was beside her doorway.

  "Were you looking for me, corporal?" she asked.

  "No ma'am, Captain."

  "Then why are you standing there?"

  "This is my post, ma'am."

  "Your post?"

  "Yes, ma'am. I have your door and Lance Corporal Dwiggens has the corridor."

  Jenetta turned her head and saw a Marine, about thirty-meters down the corridor where it branched, standing at attention. Anyone on their way to the bridge, or to the quarters of the four senior command officers, would have to go past him.

  "How long have you been here?"

  "Dwiggens and I were part of the squad that responded to the incident last night. Marine Lieutenant Schwab assigned us to your protection detail right after we carried the assassin's body to sickbay. We'll be relieved at the beginning of first watch."

  "And what are your orders?"

  "To see that no unauthorized person or persons enters the quarters of the captain, that of the other senior officers, or the bridge."

  "I see. Very well. Please stand on the other side of the doorway or against the opposite wall in the corridor, so I don't run into you every time I'm moving between my quarters and the bridge. Carry on, Corporal."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  It seemed a little like locking the bank after the thief had absconded with the assets, but it wasn't something she should discuss with the Corporal. He had his orders, after all, and couldn't disobey them.

  Everyone on board knew of the attempted assassination by then so Jenetta received quite a few surprised looks when she entered the bridge. All eyes strained to see if she showed any sign of the damage perpetrated on her person by the Raider assassin. Although her normally staid movements seemed to be a little more deliberate than usual, there were no signs of extreme pain, such as wincing when twisting and turning. After relieving Lt. Elizi, Jenetta announced that she would be in her briefing room and handed off bridge command to Lt. Risco. All eyes followed her movements until the doors to her briefing room closed behind her, then turned to silently exchange questioning looks with others on the bridge. It didn't seem reasonable that a person who slew an assassin by herself just six hours ago, after being shot in the midsection, could be walking around without evincing any pain. The legends associated with Jenetta Carver's name were sure to grow again.

  Jenetta prepared a cup of steaming black Colombian coffee as soon as the doors closed behind her. Alone in the room, she permitted herself to wince slightly from the pain as she took her seat behind her desk.

  "Captain, Major Galont would like to see you," Jenetta heard from her com just before noon.

  "Send him in," she replied.

  Galont entered the briefing room and approached the desk after being admitted. "Good morning, Captain," he said. "I was surprised to hear that you were up. Do you feel able to talk about the incident?"

  "Yes, Major, I do. If you hadn't come by, I would have sent for you. I want to have the matter settled and the reports filed before we reach Higgins. Have a seat. Would you care for a beverage?"

  "No, thank you, Captain. I'm about caffeine'd out this morning."

  "Okay, then sit back and relax while I tell you all about our assassin."

  Relating everything that had occurred from the time she discovered Pretorious in her quarters until Lt. Ashraf entered the room, took just eight uninterrupted minutes.

  "Incredible," was all Galont said at first as he digested all she'd told him. The admiration he held for his superior officer had jumped up another notch.

  "So, by Commander Pretorious' own admission, we know that we have the murderer, saboteur, and potential assassin. I went into the computer a short time ago and removed the code I inserted to alert us if the saboteur accessed that socket again. We don't need the alert code anymore. I also wrote a short report for the systems people at Mars, telling them about the unregistered address, and what I did after I hacked into the computer. After downloading the historical logs, I'd like them to wipe the main system and reload the most recent version of certified software while the Song is at the spacedock for repairs. That will ensure that everything Pretorious mucked around with has been cleansed."

  "It's incredible that Pretorious was able to move about so freely. I suppose that I wasn't doing my job as security officer."

  As sh
e looked at his face and saw his downcast eyes, Jenetta realized for the first time that Galont was blaming himself for everything that happened. She should have seen it sooner, but she'd been too absorbed in other matters.

  "I realize that you might be feeling some responsibility for what has happened, but it was not, in any way, your fault. I know how hard you've worked to find Nichols' killer and our saboteur. Our systems and procedures are designed to prevent unauthorized persons from gaining access to our ships, but that effort is ordinarily only in operation while we're docked at a port. No one could have expected that a murderer and saboteur would arrive, at a battle site, wearing a legitimate Space Command uniform, in a shuttle properly registered to the Prometheus. If there's a failure here, it's in the sensor system we use to scan ID and CT devices. We should also be scanning for those criminal marker tags you identified in Pretorious body with the tiny device you have.

  "If the sensors built into our ships cannot be adjusted to also scan for the markers, then we should, at the very least, have new sensors added at every possible place of entry such as the cargo bays, flight bays, and individual airlocks. If we had them, Pretorious would never have been able to get to Petty Officer Nichols. The system would have warned Nichols before he even opened the airlock hatch into the flight bay. He could have alerted security and had a team come to check out the situation while Pretorious was still isolated in the bay. You might want to think about including that recommendation in your report. I realize that Space Command might resist a little because of expense, but it's an important safety measure. We should also find a way to have the onboard sensors record the presence of someone who does not have a CT, ID, or other identifiable marker in his or her body so that security can be alerted. A warship is no place to have unauthorized people wandering around at will."

  "That's an excellent suggestion, ma'am. The personnel sensor grid aboard ship should be upgraded, if possible. As you say, none of this should ever have happened. You would not have been shot, and PO Nichols would still be alive. We found the murder weapon in the guest quarters that Pretorious was using, by the way. It has Pretorious' fingerprints all over it and matches the striations on Nichols' body. What should we do with Pretorious' body, eject it into space when we're near enough to a star for it to be caught in its gravity?"

  "No, I have a better idea on how to dispose of his corpse. For now just leave it in the storage locker."

  "Aye, Captain. As I'm sure you're aware, I've ordered that the Marine guard on your door and the bridge corridor be reinstituted. Captain Corriano ordered them off when he took command, in direct noncompliance with Section Seven, Part Three, Paragraph Eighteen of the Space Command Warship Operations manual. I've kept a copy of his verbal order in case I ever needed it. I'm sorry, Captain. I should have reestablished the guard posts when you came aboard. We're fortunate that you're so adept at defending yourself and that you'll recover fully from the wound."

  "I imagine that viewpad to the face came as quite a surprise to Pretorious" she said with a slight grin. "I'm glad it's over and that he's finally resting where he belongs." Jenetta paused for a second before continuing. "If you hadn't discovered that Pretorious was staying in the guest quarters, I might not be alive now. It was the distraction of Lt. Ashraf coming to my door with that information that allowed me to flip the pad at him. I've noted your diligence in your file and commended your efforts in working this case."

  "Thank you, Captain," Galont said with a smile.

  "Thank you, Captain. Dismissed."

  "Aye, Ma'am."

  Galont felt substantially better after his meeting with the captain. He still blamed himself for not restoring the sentry posts earlier, but the Old Lady wasn't blaming him, and even commended his efforts in the investigation. He vowed that never again would he allow anything to happen which might make her disappointed with his actions.

  * * *

  "You're awfully quiet, tonight, Eddie," CPO Filip ‘Flip' Byrne said.

  Chief Edward Lindsey stared at his cards for a couple of more seconds before lifting his eyes to stare at Flip.

  "It's the new XO," Eddie said. "What a piece a work."

  "Commander Ashe is a full commander, Eddie. He's more than sixty-years-old and has forty-one years of service since graduating from the Academy."

  "What the hell has that got to do with anything? If he was any good he'd have made captain a decade ago. Damn, he's almost reached mandatory space retirement age."

  "Weren't those your three complaints with our last XO? Insufficient rank, age, and experience? You should be happy. You got what you wanted, a senior officer with decades of experience."

  "I bet that Captain Novak of the Asuncion was glad to pawn him off on Gavin," Eddie said. "But I can't believe that he might actually become the acting captain of the Prometheus if something happens to the Captain when the Raiders get here."

  "Ya know, I heard that the crew of the Song is pretty damn happy with their new captain."

  Eddie glowered at him. "Who told you that?"

  "I've got a few friends on the Song. I had a chance to speak with them after things calmed down at Vauzlee. Commander Carver has the support of everyone on board and has them pulling together like never before. Of course, she had the support of almost everyone on board the Prometheus by the time she left."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I was wrong. Is that what you want to hear, Flip?"

  "That'll do for a start. She's coming back, you know?"

  "Yeah, but maybe not soon enough. If something happens to the captain while Ashe is still acting XO here, he'll become acting captain. Carver's official posting as second officer means that she'll be under him. I can't imagine going into battle with him at the tiller. I don't have a death wish."

  "You should have remembered that old saying, Eddie, before Carver left."

  "What old saying?"

  "Be careful what you wish for."

  "Yeah, yeah, yeah. Are you going to bid or just stare at your cards all night?"

  * * *

  The GQ alerts sounded at 0302 aboard all seven ships in orbit around Higgins. Instantly, people were jumping out of their racks and into their uniforms. All drills had been cancelled when the CIC was activated, so everyone knew this was the real deal. The Raiders were on their way in. Within possibly minutes, every Space Command crew would be fighting for their very survival amid death and destruction on an incredible scale.

  Gavin hurried to dress, but there was no panic in his movements. As he walked to the bridge, he noted with satisfaction that his crew appeared almost as calm as he did. Truth be known, it was almost a relief that the battle was upon them. The waiting is always the worst part of warfare. Your mind works overtime at imagining all sorts of terrible things and possible injuries to yourself and others. Once the battle begins, you're usually too busy to think about the consequences and you enter a sort of automatic mode that blocks everything else from your mind but the task at hand.

  * * *

  Chapter Fifteen

  ~ May 18th, 2268 ~

  Gavin climbed into his command chair on the bridge and turned his attention towards the large viewscreen at the front. The Prometheus' com operator had already logged into the CIC and the front monitor was quickly filling with the faces of other ship captains as they climbed into their command chairs. While Gavin looked on, Admiral Holt arrived in the CIC and sat down at the station reserved for the base commander.

  The Admiral waited until all seven captains were seated in their command chairs before saying, "The time has arrived, my friends. The sensors have detected a large force moving this way. It can't be anything other than the Raider attack force. They jammed the Distant DeTect network signal before we could get a precise count, but we know that the force is comprised of at least thirty-one ships. We won't have an exact count until we have a visual. We're sending updated information to each ship's astrogation officer. You should now move to your designated position and hold."

  Gavin looked at h
is helmsman, Lieutenant Kerrey, and nodded. The ship began to move towards the position fed into the computer by the astrogator. The front view changed to an image of space ahead of the ship and the small, thirty-eight-centimeter monitor mounted on the right arm of his chair filled with the images of the other six captains and an image of the CIC with Admiral Holt. He could speak directly with any other commanding officer via his CT simply by touching the officer's image, or make a general announcement to all by touching a small icon on the bottom left side of the screen.

  * * *

  The buzzing of the com station on the nightstand next to her bed awoke Jenetta around 0311. She raised the cover and looked into the face of Lt. Elizi. "What is it, Lieutenant?"

  "Sorry to wake you, Captain. We've just received a message from Higgins. Their Distant DeTect network has recorded the approach of a large fleet. They believe it to be the Raider attack force."

  Jenetta was instantly awake. "How far out?"

  "They expect the Raiders to attack within the hour."

  "What's our time to Higgins?"

  "Eighty-two minutes, eighteen seconds."

  "I'll be on the bridge in a few minutes."

  "Should I sound GQ, Captain?"

  "Not yet, let's give everyone a few more minutes sleep."

  "Aye, Captain."

  The screen went blank and Jenetta pushed the cover down. Flipping back the covers, she got out of bed and reached for her uniform.

  Cynthia had a mug of steaming Columbian coffee ready for her as she emerged from her bedroom. She accepted the mug, took a quick sip, and smiled at the young steward.