by Jim Rudnick
“Uh, permission granted, Lieutenant Commander—er—are you the new CO, Sir?” He really was a bit at odds with the fact that while he thought the officer before him was his new captain, the man was still wearing the rank of a lieutenant commander. He couldn’t seem to process that quick enough and remained rigid.
“At ease, Lieutenant. Yup, it’s me, your new CO ... but I’m without uniforms yet from the quartermaster and no need to make a fuss,” he said as he moved to get on the escalator’s moving bottom stair. He was surprised that the lieutenant put an arm in front of him and turned back to him with a question on his face.
“Tradition, Sir, requires that we pipe the new CO on board, and that means, Sir, that we await the CPO who is on bosun duty right now ... Sir, if you please, may I ask that you await same. It’s a big deal to us, Sir, and your XO demands it be done from all of us.” He lowered his arm slowly, and Tanner pulled back a few steps from the moving stairs.
“Thank you, Sir, please bear with us,” he said as he madly tapped on his tablet. The stair’s movement ceased within a few moments as they waited and then began to move downward and toward them. Tanner looked up and saw a few men in khakis moving down toward them and moved back to allow them to get off at the bottom.
His new XO called them into line and then moved to the front rank himself while the CPO bosun stood off at a tangent.
“Sir, we welcome you aboard the cruiser Marwick. You can spit on the mat and call the cat a bastard!” the XO said.
“Sir, yes, Sir!” was echoed by all present except Tanner, and he grinned at the old Navy custom as the bosun piped him on board. He stepped on the lowest step as the lieutenant, who remained behind, started up the escalator again and the others paraded behind him up and into the boarding port at the base of the ship.
When inside the port, the XO pushed to the front, saluted, and then held out his hand.
“Sir, Commander Craig Templeton, your XO. Welcome aboard, Captain,” he said with respect in his voice. He too had heard about the Pirate attack it seemed to Tanner and was as impressed as the admiral had been.
There were choruses of yes Sirs and way-to-go from the rest of the now crowded boarding port. The men surely would have patted him on the back if he didn’t outrank them, Tanner thought. He nodded and let them quiet down.
“Thanks, Commander and the rest of you too. Just been jumped to your CO and it’s still a bit new for me too. But mostly, what I want to do is to survey the ship and see how she stacks up. XO, if you could show me to my quarters and someone can arrange to move my personals over from the Kerry, I’d like to get to it.”
The XO grinned at him.
“We’re a bit ahead of you, Sir,” he said. “We got word this morning about the appointment and have already moved your items to your quarters. Your steward would’ve most likely already stowed same, and we’ve received word that your new uniforms are on their way over right now. Um ... Lieutenant Greeley, take charge here, and the rest of you, as you were. If you’d follow me, Sir,” he said politely and moved off and down the corridor to the left of the boarding port.
As he followed, Tanner was pleased to note the much larger size of the cruiser as compared to a frigate. He listened as the XO explained the numbering system that appeared over every hatchway or doorway and showed him how to use those digits to find his way anywhere on-board. As they moved toward the elevators at the center of the ship in its axis, they passed other crew members, seamen mostly, who kept working as the XO instructed rather than coming to attention as their new CO passed by. Once in a while, a CPO boomed it out before the XO could excuse them, and Tanner had to salute them all in return, but for the most part, they made good progress toward the elevators. Though it was only about eighty feet away, it took a good five minutes to get to the elevators with work parties, droids, and tech housings strewn in their path. But eventually they were there, and the XO called for the elevator and turned to Tanner.
“Sir, your quarters are up on Deck Twenty-nine, one below the top deck which houses the Bridge and your ready room. As well, some of the officers are located on Twenty-nine with you while others are down on Twenty-four. Crews on Twenty-eight down to Twenty-four, and mess, gym, library, and theater are all on Twenty-three. Engineering takes up the bottom ten and between Ten and Twenty are the normal cargo bays, hydroponics, life support, shuttle bays, and most of the utility areas we have. The armory takes up most of Twenty-one while armament still runs through the axis of the ship as per usual for Navy cruisers, being protected and all.”
As he spoke, the XO moved within the turbo-lift and pressed twenty-nine, and as they moved up somewhat slowly, Tanner noticed the XO seemed to be waiting for questions. No need to keep him in suspense, Tanner thought.
“So, XO, is she on time to leave the docks in three days? Or are we looking at a changed ETA at this point?”
The XO fidgeted as they flew upward, seeming to pick his answers from a few he carried around inside his head.
“Don’t rightly know, Sir. I believe we’ll be dang close, but the Tachyon technicians are the ones who’re slow—or slowest maybe. They seem to be doing a lot of testing, and while I’d love to interfere, you know you just can’t do that while she’s in dock. We have little that we can do ‘til she’s fully commissioned and that’s not yet. Course, for the way they seem to be moving on their problem lists, it seems like they’re slow Sir.” He held his hand before the now opened door and escorted his captain out of the turbo-lift door. He pointed down to his left again, and they moved clockwise around the much shorter length corridor and stopped at a closed doorway.
“This one’s yours, Captain,” he said and pushed the door-pad. It opened for him by sliding back into the frame of the bulkhead. Ahead of them lay a rather large cabin, complete with at first glance a large double bunk and a complete console at a desk that had a view-port that currently showed the gray skies of Juno. As he moved within, Tanner noted there was a wall safe for documents and a few stanchion cupboards a few feet away from the desk. Against the far wall was the open doorway to the bathroom, and he crossed the space to peer inside. He saw a full shower and sink, nice full-length mirror, and a healthy selection of bath towels and toiletries.
Moving back to the center of the room, he observed that the inside bulkhead across from the view-port had a full schematic of the ship and that it flickered occasionally. He pointed and looked questioningly at his XO.
“Sir, that display is dependent on the computer AI updates that are being installed today and as such may flicker occasionally. All I know is that it’s supposed to harden once they’re done ... which I understand will be tomorrow. ’Til then,” he said as he shrugged.
Dry-dock was certainly a daunting process, Tanner thought, and he nodded as he grinned at his XO.
“Right ... and Garnuthian pigs will fly tomorrow too. We’ll see, XO, we’ll see. Now I’m going to take a quick shower and await my new uniforms, and then I’ll move up to the Bridge. We got stairs up one deck, XO?”
“Yes, Sir, just a few feet down the corridor. Takes you right up to the entrance to the Bridge and most likely will always be faster than the turbo-lift, Sir.” He nodded as he spoke and Tanner knew that the man had been around the block a few times. Stairs were usually quicker and especially on board a cruiser, no doubt about it.
The XO excused himself after promising to see that the captain’s steward would get those uniforms up and into his cabin as soon as possible as Tanner closed the door behind him.
Searching his hard-shelled case, he pulled out a bottle of Scotch and popped into the bathroom to grab a glass, and a moment later, he stared out the view window. He looked down at the dry-dock yards around him. Over there the Carpenter lay, her interior decks being welded as he watched from above, each droid moving along so very slowly as the seams glowed behind them still red-hot. He could also see down at ground level as there was a steady stream of materials moving out to her and empty handlers moving back for more. She
still had at least three weeks left of production he'd learned, before she’d be ready to move while he only had three days to enjoy the same. The knock from his steward delivering his new uniforms was only a moment’s break; he noted the freshly pressed khakis and dress grays each with the four stripes on both boards and sleeves where needed. He shooed out the steward and put them away himself and left out one pair of new khakis to change into, but before he did, he sat on his bed and got out the new silver eagles to put into the collars.
It wasn’t the first time he’d done the same thing he remembered as he sat and thought back four years and 1200 light-years inward as he fingered the silver eagles...
CHAPTER THREE
The cruiser Gillmarten stood to, and like the rest of the fleet under Admiral McQueen, Captain Tanner Scott awaited his orders. On the admiral’s flagship, the destroyer Keenan, he too awaited word of the battle going on between another of the Earl’s fleets led by Admiral Canton and the Franauts, the alien race that had conquered most of the Earldom’s surrounding territory.
They had come from no one knew where and had moved with speed at picking off many of the smaller less technological planets. As they advanced with success after success, the Earl himself had tried to contact them to work at finding a solution that was other than full war but had been rebuffed at every turn. His ambassadors were sent back dead, his Ansible messages were ignored, and his fleets now stood ground over their furthest border, the aliens just a few light-years away. With more than forty of his own planets, the Earl knew that many would fall to these aliens if they chose to attack, but his Navy with over fifty ships of the line, including three full battleships and a host of destroyers and cruisers now faced the coming enemy, their line drawn in the sand. Or rather space.
There was no movement for almost a month, as the enemy seemed to feed on their latest conquests, three smaller worlds that had been independent at the southern borders of the Earldom. Had they accepted the offer to join the rest of the Earl’s empire, they would have at this point been safe, but that was not to be. Instead, sensors showed that their planets were being razed for primary resources, water, timber, ores, and chemicals while still others showed the populations were shrinking and one could only assume they were being taken onto the almost mile-long and unknown alien mother ships, of a class that had not been seen before.
Tanner, sitting in his captain’s chair, wondered even more about what kind of technology they would have that the rest of the galaxy didn't. He shrugged and pondered on that even more.
It was not even supposed that they used the same TachyonDrive that the rest of the galaxy in this quadrant used as one could not assume anything about them. Their ships were all large and moved via some other kind of IntertialDrive that made them a bit clumsy, and when they went to FTL, they just disappeared; then word was received that they had appeared somewhere else. No known FTL drive could do that, and as they seemed to want nothing to do with either humans or other races already there in the reaches of the Perseus arm, it seemed that this mystery would always be unknown.
But in the past few days, they’d moved within the boundaries of the Earldom. They’d moved right past the boundary buoys, and while for the most part all six of the ships stayed together, they did split off one ship which moved to sit above the planet Koo, a small and highly technical world that prided itself on its export of technology. The alien ship just sat there; it made no movement and just waited, as did the fifteen ships in the admiral’s fleet.
As Tanner turned toward his Ansible officer, he saw the man’s face contorted slowly as his hands tried to move up and toward the headphones that were cupped on his ears. He turned red so quickly that Tanner, who had gotten up and was moving toward him to help the man, almost didn’t get there—and then he was there and tore the headphones off as he saw blood pouring from those ears.
“Lieutenant Morgan, flash the admiral’s flagship, the Ansible frequency is under attack,” he said as the lieutenant lay coughing in his arms. Morgan jumped to the Ansible console and quickly punched out the message that would now travel over light pulses instead of the subspace Ansible band that was under attack. Around them all, they could see the effects of such a thrust as the display flickered and then went out, as it too was Ansible driven.
“Henry,” he called out to the Science officer, “put up the video display from the forward cameras, and heighten the gain.” This put an actual photographic display on the main forward display that they could use to orient themselves.
“Sir, incoming. The admiral gives us all ‘at-wills’ and only ordered us to use the flash system for all future comm activity.”
Figuring that the aliens must now control the sub-space and the Ansible channels, McQueen had now undone the tether that kept all fifteen ships at bay and moved against the enemy himself. As the battleship Keenan moved toward the alien ship now parked in high orbit above Koo, its shields went up as Tanner could see the slight purplish glow along its edges on the display screen. He shouted at the Helm to move the Gillmarten off the battleship’s left flank and ordered for top speed, as the distance between the battleship and them grew because of the much larger battleship’s engines; Tanner knew that he’d be able to watch the admiral’s six. He urged the Science officer to split their display and waited while aft pictures came online to see as well as abeam ones too.
As the fleet advanced toward the high orbit, the alien ship began to also glow, a dull brown emanating off its shiny blue hull and the glow expanding to be a full shield around the ship.
As Tanner watched, the fleet's lead destroyer sent out its pulse cannon plasma balls, and he and everyone held their breath. He snapped his fingers over at his Tactical officer.
“Tactical, see if you can read their shields when those hit.”
But the Tactical officer shook his head immediately. “Sorry, CO, but without the Ansible feeding in its stats, I’m blind except for what I see just like you.”
On the front display, the arcing plasma balls moved like roman candles down, down and then simply disappeared against those dull brown screens. Nothing happened, and the shields looked as solid as ever. Tanner groaned to himself. With shields that could withstand a plasma cannon off one of their destroyers, these guys looked invincible at present. But perhaps when they opened fire, those shields would have to come down and that might offer up an opportunity for the fleet to make its mark.
As each of the smaller cruisers took up a vantage point to ring the alien ship, Tanner could see something that surprised him. From the side of the alien ship closest to him, the brown shield grew, enlarging as it did, and it wasn’t until almost a full minute later that he realized the glow was just a part of the whole side of the ship that was opening up, revealing bay after bay after bay. And suddenly, there were hundreds and hundreds of smaller ships, each flying out of the fighter bays, and each looked capable of doing some damage too. Strangely shaped was his first thought and the odd looking arrays meant that they were never meant for atmospheric flight, but deep space alone.
Tanner quickly ordered his Tactical officer to turn on the automatic lasers and watched as occasionally they did cut one down, but for the most part, it was apparent that each time his cruiser dropped shields for a millisecond or two to fire, the smaller fighters were using that time to strafe his arrays and to cause as much damage as they could. They're faster, he realized.
“Tactical, is there anything we can do to prevent them from getting in and firing when our shields are down?” he queried. He knew the answer but wanted confirmation and got it with a shake of the head as the lieutenant continued to change the frequency of the timing randomly so that the fighters wouldn’t be able to lock on logarithmically.
“Seems the big dog doesn’t fight, so never puts down its shields, but carries in fighters to do their dirty work, knowing we too have to drop our shields to fire at them. It’s a strange way to fight a battle by our standards, but if we don’t fight, then it’s a stalemate, and if
we do, then they get through some of them,” he said as the port beam camera suddenly blazed with pure blue light. Something had happened to the Jefferson on the admiral’s other side and Tanner was sick because he then knew that the alien fighters had gotten through her shields enough to destroy the ship completely, as the blue flare slowly died off.
The admiral sent word then to retreat, and they moved back to reform the fleet 100,000 miles away. Ansibles went back on at this distance from the aliens, and Tanner had wasted no time in jumping into a shuttle and getting to the meeting the admiral had called on board the fleet's flagship destroyer. Somehow they had taken one of the alien fighters into their keeping after it flamed out over one of the destroyer’s massive shuttle bay doors, and they had to move fast to tractor it when its shields were down. Now it laid before them, in the bay, a lighter blue copy of its larger mother ship.
The admiral’s techies were already going over the guts of the ship, while near it the alien was sitting in a force-field cage on the deck, quite calm it appeared. As they went over to look at him, it appeared to Tanner that he looked humanoid except for the slightly myopic much angled eyes and the indented nose with three nostrils. He looked back at them and said or did nothing, as if they and he weren’t even there, though his head did swivel as they walked around him. The green of the field colored what would be his skin color, but even so it looked slightly pink to them, not at all unlike the color of their own human skin though much more uniform in color. He wore simple garb, a one-piece jumpsuit that had some markings on the collar and cuffs, but it didn’t seem to be a uniform, though it most probably was just that, his keepers, the marine guards had to say.
“Right,” Admiral McQueen said, “this will keep, but we will get to debrief this fellow later. ‘Til then, the techies are looking into their technology which does at first blush look a bit more advanced than our own—though not that far ahead. We’ve been able to identify so far, drive controls and mechanisms and their own Ansible controls, which as yet, we can’t determine how it works, but we will. Let’s meet,” he said and led the way to a meeting room just off the bay. They sat around the table and fidgeted while he brought up the view-screen on the wall.