The Log of the Gray Wolf (Star Wolf Squadron Book 1)

by Shane VanAulen

  With nothing else keeping them there they bended out and returned to their waiting ships to help finish repair operations. They would mourn their lost friends later, but now they only felt the pain and the feeling of helplessness and betrayal for having left them behind. Most of all, the Wolf’s captain bore that responsibility in silence and solitude.

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  “I’m ranking officer so I’m in charge!” Lt. Thornton declared, squaring off with Collins.

  Both men were standing in front of the Mammoth’s captain chair. Mike had bended them back to the system where they had defeated the Karduan squadron which had included the super destroyer.

  He was counting on the likelihood that the vanguard sloop, which had escaped the earlier battle, still hadn’t returned with help. He had no intelligence on any other nearby systems, at least if he bended into that system and it did have enemy ships he could either perform an emergency bend or try to bluff their way out using the enemy codes that they had just captured.

  For a brief moment he considered bending back to Jericho Six to hit the remaining destroyer escort, but he reconsidered for two reasons. The other ships from the Kardie squadron had probably returned to see what had happened to them and that the Mammoth really wasn’t a warship and could seriously get its butt kicked.

  After they were sure there were no live enemy ships in the system he explained where they were and what had happened. He then ordered the crew to prepare to bend a second time to get clear of this system.

  It was then that the Mammoth’s third officer and highest-ranking surviving officer had stood up from the helm and approached the captain’s chair. He had immediately disagreed with Mike’s decision to jump again before the crew or even the status of the Karduans onboard was confirmed. He also wanted to refuel even though they had only performed one bend.

  Mike had started to explain the danger of staying any length of time in this system, but the other man cut him off.

  “What’s your date of rank?”

  He rolled his eyes and considered belting him. Only a real shit-head would pull that crap, but he had a point. Thornton was the ranking officer even if he was a little shit.

  “I’ve only recently been promoted to full lieutenant,” he said, rather than lying. The older officer probably had guessed as much due to his young face and lack of years. He was after all only twenty-three and probably was the youngest full lieutenant in the Confederation’s history.

  “I’m ranking officer, so I’m in charge!” Lt. Thornton declared, squaring off with him.

  Mike locked his eyes onto Thornton’s and didn’t back down an inch.

  “Listen, I have my orders and they include rescuing the Alamo’s crew and then making our way back to our hidden base. There we should be able to meet up with not only the Star Wolf, but also a couple freighters and two sloops.”

  Thornton shook his head as he frowned at the younger man.

  “I don’t care what your orders were. I’m ordering you and your men to help this ship reach Confederation lines.”

  He looked at him dumbfounded.

  “You must be mad! There are dozens of enemy squadrons occupying the systems between here and our lines. Our only hope is to make it back to our base and meet up with the Star Wolf.”

  “Meet with a ship that ran away and left you to be captured? I don’t think so!” he said in contempt.

  It was all Collins could do not to hit him. Red-faced he once more made up his mind to do what he thought was right and damn the regulations.

  “That’s fine lieutenant, you try to get back through the lines.” Reaching to his link he opened a channel and called to all of his people.

  “All Wolf and Alamo personnel are to return to the Alamo immediately!” he ordered and then continued, “Alamo make ready to get underway.”

  The senior lieutenant looked shocked that this young pup would dare to refuse to carry out his lawful orders.

  “Listen Lt. Collins, I’m giving you a direct order to tell your people to stand down and aid us!”

  He just looked at him with an expression of antipathy.

  “You don’t rank me and you’re not in my chain of command, so fuck off!” Mike said in a rather calm voice. He then turned to leave and the Mammoth’s ranking officer made another critical mistake.

  Reaching out he grabbed Collins by the wrist.

  “You’re not going anywhere Mister!” he screamed as he attempted to pull him back.

  The problem with becoming good at martial arts is that as you rise in ability you stop thinking and hesitating and instead you just act.

  Mike just reacted to the grab and didn’t even think about it. The move was called Katate Tori Nikkyo, rolling his trapped right hand over Thornton’s grabbing his left wrist and placed his free hand on top of both of them locking the hold in place. He then angled his wrist down and extended his internal energy or as the Japanese called it his Ki, downward. The angle and the turning of the wrist caused the bone of the forearm to grind into the nerves inducing intense pain.

  The effect was immediate as Thornton was driven to his knees as his arm and wrist were wracked in extreme pain. From this position Mike could have used a finishing move and taken him completely to the floor, but instead he released his hold.

  Stepping back, he drew his Krager.

  “Now that I’ve made my point let me make another. My people aren’t staying here to end up dead under your command. I won’t force myself on this ship’s command, but I won’t be kept from my mission or my orders. We’re leaving and let me point out to you that my people are the ones with all the guns.”

  Behind him, Mister Rabb drew his gauss pistol and moved to the gaping whole that had once been the door. Whatever play Collins wanted to make he had the middy’s complete support.

  Mike’s eyes were drawn to a sudden movement as the ensign who was manning the maser station stood up.

  “Sir, can I join you?”

  He had to admit he was a little surprised, but nodded his consent. The ensign ran from his station as two other crewmen also jumped to their feet and requested to come along.

  “You fucking traitors!” Thornton cried, pulling himself from his knees. “I’ll see you all court-martialed!”

  “Goodbye, Ass Hole!” he taunted with a smile that would have made Mister Cappilo proud.

  Backing off the bridge they were stopped by an unexpected arrival. Standing in the opening were Ensign Kelly, Gunny Masters and Dr. Duarte. Just behind them were at least five more of his men.

  “You should all be heading for the Alamo.”

  Gunny grinned as he leveled his gauss rifle on the bridge.

  “We weren’t leaving without you,” the old sergeant said.

  It dawned on him that his comm. link was left open so that the Alamo could monitor their situation in case they got in trouble. His crew must have been listening to the whole exchange between him and Thornton.

  “I don’t think that it will be necessary for you to leave,” Angelique said, entering the bridge. She was carrying not only her medical satchel, but also Mike’s second pistol.

  “I’m Lt. Dr. Angelique Duarte and I believe that I’m ranking officer among the three of us and I’m turning command over to Lt. Collins. I order all personnel of the Alamo and the Mammoth’s crews to follow his orders just as I do.”

  Thornton looked outraged, as his face became a deep shade of red in anger.

  “I’m not taking any orders from a medical officer, let alone a French whore!”

  Mike had enough, raised his pistol and shot him. The single round hit him in the mouth just as he was getting ready to say something else.

  The crew stood in surprise as the loudmouth and clearly deranged officer dropped to the ground. If the round had been a gauss needle he would have been missing most of his head, but instead the Krager had been set on shock dart mode and he was stunned into silence.

  Angelique smiled
sweetly as she crossed to the fallen man.

  “Thank you Lt. Collins,” she said and knelt next to the unconscious heap. “I also am relieving this officer of duty due to mental stress. I find him medically unfit and order him confined to quarters.”

  She had accurately concluded that the executions of the officers above him and the thought that he was next if anyone stepped out of line had worked to unhinge him.

  The young leader smiled in return, turned and nodded to a couple of his men to take Thornton away.

  “Make sure he stays sedated until we get home,” he said as he made a mental note not to piss the nice French lady off.

  “But of course,” she replied quite seriously as she followed the men carrying the stunned lieutenant from the bridge.

  Mike holstered his Krager and moved back to the captain’s chair.

  “Now that’s settled, everyone man their stations and prepare for a bend.”

  Seeing that the helm was vacant he looked back to Kelly questioningly, but she shook her head no. Crossing to the helm he took the chair himself and quickly familiarized himself with the controls.

  “Ensign Kelly, get back to the Alamo just in case we run into trouble.”

  She nodded and said, “Yes sir,” but the look on her face clearly told him she wasn’t comfortable with the idea of taking command.

  After she left he called to Martin and ordered him to return to the frigate and to take command if they had to use the battered ship to fight. Mike would have liked to take command of the Alamo himself, but right now he was needed on this ship’s bridge.

  “Engineering reports they’re ready and the hull has been polarized to the gravity well’s field,” the communication’s station reported.

  Mike let out a sigh as he worked the huge ship’s controls.

  “Open a bend, sound battle stations,” which was followed by a “And here we go!”

  The ISS Mammoth entered the gravity well and disappeared as it bended safely away.

  The problem with a bend was that even if you knew what system you were entering you didn’t know what was already there. Star systems still had to be relatively close along the cylinder of stars for bender drives to work. They needed a large stable gravity well and if possible a hydrogen gas giant.

  Even then you never knew what might happen or if you’d safely make it. Also human and Karduan ships were limited to the power they could provide for a bend and that determined how long they could make a stable conduit last and also how far they could go.

  Mike had set the bend coordinates for one of the Wolf’s former hunting grounds. For the first three weeks after leaving ‘the Hole in the Wall’ pirate hideout the attack cruiser laid in wait in various systems for enemy ships to bend in to refuel. They had laid their first ambush in a system about four bends from their base. Hope had advised that, “You don’t hunt too close to home lest you help the enemy find your den.”

  The system was called A12-4 having no real name to remember it by. It was another dead system with no Class-M planets or intelligent life. Amongst its eight major planets it possessed an asteroid belt that contained highly radioactive materials, which the Wolf had used to help mask her signature and profile. After a long boring week the anxious crew of the attack cruiser was eager to strike at the enemy and had decided to move on looking for new prey.

  This solar system was close to the system that they had bended to after leaving Jericho Six. It was a place that Collins thought they could use to catch their breaths and regroup. Repairing the Alamo was paramount to their survival and they would have to make four bends and at least one refueling stop to get home.

  The combined crews also desperately needed a break. The men of the Wolf’s boarding party were dead on their feet. In a period of twenty hours they had fought in three engagements with enemy ships, evaded capture, freed a trapped crew, seized an enemy controlled ship and once more escaped.

  The crew of the Alamo looked just as bad. They were ill fed, on the verge of malnutrition and were also suffering from stress and exhaustion after rushing to try to make repairs to their battered ship.

  Though the crewmen of the Mammoth were well rested, they had been captives of the Karduans, having suffered psychological abuse and extreme mental strain at their pale hands. A break was needed if they were going to succeed.

  After hiding the huge ship on the other side of the asteroid belt Collins had ordered the crews of the Wolf and the Alamo to get some rest. The Mammoth’s people were to report in for assignment. The officer that had volunteered to leave with him earlier was now his liaison to the recovery ship’s crew.

  Ensign Barry Stevens was a skinny red headed young man about the same age as Collins. He was a native of Earth from the Midwest region of the United States. He seemed smart and proved invaluable to their cause, helping to place the right people to the right jobs.

  The recovery ship’s crew had all answered the call to work. They knew that not only were their rescuers exhausted and hurting, but that they had the means to return their debt of honor by repairing the frigate and carrying the ball for all of them for a while.

  With the prisoners safely secured and his exhausted crew fed and put to bed Mike sat back in the Mammoth’s captain’s chair as the repair and status reports came rushing in.

  The enormous recovery ship was truly a wonder. It not only had huge cargo bays and recover repair shuttles, but it also had all of the same features as the repair station back on Austro Prime. It was a fully functioning ships dock, which included ship’s stores of armor, weapons and all types of hardware. It also had its own complement of fifty modern repair droids.

  Once he had spelled it out to the surviving officers and NCOs of his need to get the Alamo fully operational, the Mammoth’s crew jumped to the task. All of the droids and crewmen not at duty stations descended on the old frigate like a swarm of locusts. Watching them via a remote monitor, their tired commanding officer shook his head in amazement. It reminded him of the days when they were rushing to get the Wolf operational and escape Austro Prime.

  Stifling a yawn with the back of his hand he sat back as the bridge crew’s duty shift ended and a new group came onto the bridge. Ensign Stevens made introductions and then also yawned.

  “Get to bed Barry,” he said and then added with a smile, “I don’t want you back here until you get at least six-hours rest, a hot meal and a shower, especially the shower.”

  The young man frowned for a moment not use to his commanding officers joking with him. He then smiled back in return and gratefully took off for his bed. The new bridge crew was awfully quiet busily doing their jobs, which suited Mike just fine.

  Perhaps it was the stain of blue blood on the floor nearby where the Karduan lady had died at his hands or maybe they just didn’t know how to approach the young warrior captain. He in turn continued to watch the main viewer showing the system and the gravity well, at the same time he followed the comm. traffic within the ship, monitored the work on the Alamo, and plotted their next move.

  He had also checked with the sickbay on those wounded during the retaking of the ship. Luckily, none of his men had been killed, but he did have three wounded including Mister Pendleton.

  “What’s the status of our wounded?” he asked, after finally getting someone to answer his call.

  “They are fine and in bed just as you should be,” a tired and disheveled Angelique Duarte replied, frowning at him from across the link.

  Mike hesitated as his mind wondered for a moment focusing not on her words, but on a stray lock of brown hair that lightly lay across her lovely face.

  “What did you say?” he ended up asking having forgotten her original question.

  “How long have you been awake?” she asked, swiping the lock of hair from her face with a wave of her hand. Her beautiful face continued to frown as she was for some unknown reason becoming angry with him.

  For some reason it was a very difficult question to answer and he had to really think
about it before he replied.

  “About thirty-eight maybe forty hours I think,” he said, looking back to the monitor.

  Surprisingly the screen only showed a blank wall. Scratching his head, he shrugged his shoulders as he stared down at the monitor just before the link severed. She must have had an emergency call he thought believing that that’s what doctors do.

  A few minutes later he was startled from an unintentional catnap as Dr. Duarte dressed in a bathrobe and slippers along with Mister Cappilo entered the bridge.

  “See I told you!” Angelique declared, looking to Rufo who lowered his head in shame, but kept smiling.

  Collins noticed that his friend seemed to have gotten cleaned up since last he’d seen him and he appeared to be well rested. The short Italian was wearing a clean uniform and of course that shit-eating grin of his which made him wonder what was so damn funny.

  “Lt. Collins, I’m your relief sir,” his friend said, grabbing him gently by the arm and helping him to his feet.

  He started to protest that he was just fine, but Angelique shushed him to silence as she took his other arm and then nodded to Rufo with a sweet and satisfying smile.

  Lt. JG. Cappilo shook his head thinking his friend was finally having a little luck as he watched them leave. He also felt a little guilty.

  In the last eight hours they had been so busy that when word came down to them to get some sleep no one argued also no one thought about the man who gave them those orders or wondered who would spell him.

  Sitting down he asked for an update and then made his way around to all of the stations to meet his bridge crew.

  Angelique guided the groggy and protesting young officer back to the lift and then to the sickbay. Neither of them had been assigned quarters or at least no one had mentioned where they were. The good doctor had found an office in the ship’s sickbay, which included a small bedroom.

  The Mammoth’s corpsman had told her that the Blues had taken their doctor off the ship when they had been captured. The bedroom was for the medical officer on duty on late night or double shifts.