by Chris Hechtl
Now, if she could send the admiral something to get her off her back … and find a way to rebuild a shipyard and supporting complexes … plus the supplies, the work forces, shuttles, robots …she angrily shook her head.
There were ongoing reports of civilian computer networks going down or causing havoc. She wasn't certain what to make of that. It just added to the chaos and confusion. To her it was an irritating distraction whenever someone brought it up.
Admiral Einezberg had finally caught on that all was not right in the inner star system when she'd demanded fuel and munitions, and Agnes had lost her patience explaining that she had nothing to send. Even if she could lift what was left on the ground, she had no way to get it to the ships; the admiral had the tugs!
Speaking of which, she thought as a beep got her attention. “Better late than never,” she muttered when she noted Admiral Einezberg had released the tugs to her. They had been partially refueled, and they were returning to the inner star system.
Or what's left of it, she thought dully.
~~~^~~~
Admiral Einezberg shook her head as she tried to figure out what else to do. Both carrier fortresses had been destroyed. She had recovered the fighters that had survived the furball on her carriers. They'd been severely mauled, so she'd found plenty of room to take the survivors onboard.
She couldn't fault Captain Ozman for losing her temper in their last exchange. It had been a written one so there was a record, but she had no intention of pursuing charges. The woman was right; she'd held on to the tugs for far too long.
She looked on to the latest report of the inner star system. She'd seen the attack go in, but at the time and even after it, she hadn't realized that it had been so effective as to strip just about everything in space. Ninety percent of the facilities in space had been blown to shreds. The colonies on the moons were okay, as were a few of the facilities and ships that had been protected by the planet or a moon, but little else. The captain had little to work with and had clearly been frustrated by that.
She couldn't blame her. But she'd made her own intentions known. Despite their losses she was going to do her damnedest to hold the star system. Hold until relieved she thought.
“Ma'am, engineering thinks they can cobble together one more weapons platform by the end of the week,” her TAO reported.
She turned and blinked in confusion and then nodded once. “Good. Excellent.”
“They need fuel though. Any ideas on getting someone in the inner star system to haul some out to us? And some parts?” he asked.
“I doubt it. I'll ask though. Now that things have calmed down we'll see about that,” she said firmly.
“Ma'am, CIC is reporting a massive footprint at the Dead Drop jump point. It looks like a lot of ships just jumped in,” a rating said, sounding concerned.
“What now?” the TAO said, looking deeply concerned as well. “If it's their Second Fleet, we won't have long to get underway to get to the H002 jump point. They could cut us off.”
“Comm, find out who they are. Nav, I need a window on how long we've got to get underway before we're cut off,” Rita said.
“So much for sleep anytime soon,” someone behind her muttered.
~~~^~~~
Berney surveyed the wreckage of the inner star system and paled. He turned to report it to Admiral De Gaulte, but the other man was standing there behind him, absorbing the information as well.
“Damn,” Admiral De Gaulte murmured.
“What the hell happened?” Jeremy demanded.
“The Feds, that's what happened,” Sedrick said bitterly. “We can never catch a damn break, can we?” he snarled.
“How bad are we talking here?” Myron asked and then sucked in a breath as he noted the yard was a spreading ball of wreckage. “Damn. Okay, yeah, that sucks.”
“You think?” Sedrick replied, feeling a little sick. He wondered how many ships they'd lost. Ships and their crews he reminded himself.
“Admiral, we're receiving IFF challenges. They are ours,” a communications rating reported.
“Ours? So our people are still in possession?” Berney asked, clearly confused by that turn of events.
“Apparently,” Admiral De Gaulte said. “Comm, my compliments to Captain Couglin and have him transmit our IFF. Find someone in charge and give me a full report. I want to know what happened and what's left.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“CIC reports no sign of enemy ships. Most of the combat looks old. Long-range sensors are still coming in. We're seeing the devastation in the inner star system …,” a rating reported.
“I bet they came in from the south, the Bf994 jump point. The bastards,” Myron muttered.
~~~^~~~
Two minutes and three seconds before their window to move expired the communications department reported a signal from the new arrivals. A broadcast IFF had been received from Admiral De Gaulte's flagship, the Executioner. The news hit the staff like a bolt of lightning. Cheers and applause erupted as people expressed their relief and excitement.
“Yes! Can we go after the bastards now?” a rating demanded.
“I doubt it,” Admiral Einezberg stated. “Admiral De Gaulte came to our rescue but he left Dead Drop uncovered. Comm, lay a signal on Executioner. We need to compare notes,” she ordered. She saw the header the comm rating put up. “No. Take that down,” she ordered.
The rating turned to her in confusion. “The Jolly Roger pennant. You might think it was a winning engagement but that was at best a draw,” she growled. “Leave it off,” she ordered.
The rating gulped and then nodded before complying.
She turned, crossing her arms and watched her people. They were a little more subdued after her outburst. She hadn't meant to dampen their fire, but she hadn't felt like bragging about that farce of a battle.
~~~^~~~
It took three days for the Retribution Fleet to make its way to the Bf994 jump point. As they traveled across the star system, more information was exchanged. Admiral Mueller looked at the devastation and shook his head. Sure, they had their fleet train with them, but they would only keep them supplied for so long before things started to get critical.
He couldn't believe the devastation. Nioma was also having trouble with it. At least according to Rita's reports they'd gotten a good chunk of the enemy's carriers and escorts. It was a small down payment on what he hoped was some revenge.
Not that he expected Cyrano to go running after them. He wanted to, so did Nioma and Rita, but they couldn't leave Garth and Dead Drop.
He checked the clock and then grabbed his overnight bag and headed for the shuttle. He had a short hop until he got to the flagship, and they could sit down and figure out just what they were going to do.
~~~^~~~
“Admiral,” Rita said as she entered the room and saluted Admiral De Gaulte. He nodded once and then sketched out a salute before indicating she should take a seat. She returned the nod but went over to him and extended her hand. “Thank you for coming, sir.”
“I didn't have much of a choice,” he said as he shook hands with her. “I didn't even know you were here,” he stated.
“But we're glad you were. If you hadn't been here, the enemy would have been in possession,” Nioma stated. “We were half expecting to walk into a trap,” he said with a grimace.
“I sometimes wish I hadn't been here. They might have spared the yard and let you retake it,” she said.
“I doubt it. They did much the same in Nuevo Madrid according to reports,” Admiral De Gaulte stated as Rita and the others took their seats. He sat and then looked at them. “So, we are in a hell of a pickle,” he said.
“A day late and a dollar short as the saying goes,” Scott said bitterly.
“There is nothing for us here. Nothing we can use. But we can't abandon it. We also can't leave Dead Drop unguarded,” Rear Admiral Pascal Akhmetshin stated. “Boy, how I wish we could combine the two-star systems,” he sa
id whimsically.
Scott looked at him like he'd lost his mind, but Nioma snorted. “If wishes were fishes,” the other carrier admiral stated. “So, just what do we do?”
“Well, I'm pretty sure you gave this southern force a very bloody nose. One that they'll have to take some time to repair. You didn't scout though?” Admiral De Gaulte asked, directing his question to Rita.
“No, sir. At least not yet.”
“I think that's the first order of business. We need to see how far they ran and get some forewarning if they attempt another offense,” Admiral De Gaulte stated. “We can't stay here though. Any relief forces in the pipeline are yours for the moment, Admiral,” he said with a nod to Rita. She nodded back.
“I did dispatch a tin can to Dead Drop and the empire with news. I don't know when we'll get a response from the empire.”
“Hopefully sooner than we did. The last tin can to Dead Drop got a little lost,” Scott said bitterly. Rita frowned in question. He shrugged her look off. “They had a hyperdrive issue or something. She was declared lost. We didn't know about this until a courier came.”
“Oh,” Rita said. She frowned and then shook her head. “I guess you can lay that at the Duchess' feet or Captain Ozman's.”
“Can you hold? What do you need? We obviously can't spare much,” Cyrano stated. “I can have my engineers help you for a while, a week tops. I want to get back to Dead Drop soon.”
“A week would help patch up what we can. We've already done what we could out of shipboard resources. Captain Ozman stated there is no yard so no help there. She's shipping what she can to us. That will take a few more days. They didn't have a lot of ordinance or parts stockpiled on the planet.”
“So, you are going to leave us here, sir?” Pascal asked carefully.
“Currently, that's my plan,” Cyrano replied with a nod as all eyes fell on him. “You'll have to protect our rear. Dead Drop is the nearest yard. What we can also do is swap out some of your damaged ships with some of ours. We'll cycle them through the repair yard in Dead Drop.”
“That beats trying to send them all the way home, sir. My thanks,” Rita replied.
“We're stocked on fighters and fighter ordinance. I'll get my people to work with yours on personnel and what we can spare,” Nioma stated. Rita shot him a look and then a slow nod.
“We noted the fortresses at the Dead Drop jump point. All work has apparently stopped. I'd suggest they be towed here and completed …,” Cyrano said as they started to work out more details of his plan.
Chapter 36
DD01ns
As the immediate needs of repairs and replenishment ebbed, Second Fleet worked on integrating the newly-arrived units. The command staff saw them as a gift even though they had been originally assigned to their wall of battle. He assigned them to cover the ansible platform while they ran through a series of virtual exercises. Until they did something about the two cruisers watching them, he wasn't comfortable with a full-up exercise. Too much information could be gleaned from watching one, even from afar.
A week after the former picket force's arrival they received news through the ansible of the arrival of Warrior's Fire and Ch'Lin'fak in Protodon. Commodore Samese promised to get them loaded up and turned around within hours.
That was one bit of good news. They needed some closer to home however. “Anything on the ships that were left behind?”
“No, sir,” Commander Ch'v'tt replied.
“Nothing? Nothing at all?” Amadeus demanded. “Not even ghost returns?”
“Oh, we've got those, sir. We have narrowed it down to two,” Commander Ch'v'tt stated, indicating two zones. There was a lot of real estate in each. “We get a nibble every day or so but not enough to run down. And of course, when we send ships in, they disappear altogether,” he stated.
“Where the hell are they?” Garfield demanded.
“Lurking somewhere between here and B-95a3 obviously,” Kelly stated. "Right now, I'm more concerned about the two we've got here. We know they are out there, but they are staying out of reach, My money is in the Kieper belt or beyond it,” she said, looking at Admiral White.
“And we need to take care of them. I don't like little ears and eyes watching our every move,” Amadeus growled. “We can probably outrun them in hyper, but I don't know for certain. That bothers me.”
~~~^~~~
Captain Kenya Fisher thought things were bad enough for her precious Garrot and Vassili's Damion Drake, but they got worse when fresh Federation reinforcements had turned up. She'd kept it strictly by the book, keeping to the outskirts of the star system like they'd been ordered. She knew that Vassili was pushing the envelope though, going for a little bit of glory and to score off the enemy.
She wished him luck. She intended to play it safe and get home.
“Make sure we've got as good a fingerprint on each of the new ships as we can get,” she ordered.
“Passives are all we can use ma'am. At this distance we're not getting much,” her TAO stated with a shake of his head.
“Just do your best,” she growled.
~~~^~~~
By compiling the sensor data from each ship in the fleet, Second Fleet got a general fix on each of the ships. It was a large search area, growing larger every second since they'd lost contact.
Most of TF2.3 jumped out. The battle cruiser squadron dropped out of hyperspace in a sphere around the search area. The jump boxed the pirates in and pushed them into the inner star system. Each of the battle cruisers went into stealth and deployed recon drones.
A deadly cat and mouse game had begun.
~~~^~~~
“I don't like this. We're used to being the hunters,” the XO said.
Captain Kenya Fisher looked at the XO in disgust. “No shit,” she muttered. As Gather ships they were used to going up against an unarmed civilian ship that was nervous but most likely not aware of their presence. Sheep in other words. It was very different when they were up against an enemy with superior numbers and sensors.
It was unnerving to say the least, which was why she was getting increasingly less sleep. She'd thought that the enemy would become more or less complacent with their presence when they couldn't find her. She had been wrong.
If she'd been wrong about that, then the brass had been wrong about a lot of things. And that bothered the holy hell out of her and her crew.
Still, it was thrilling to play the dance against a good opponent. She couldn't wait to get clear and send them a nice parting shot, maybe a raspberry before she beat feet out of the star system.
It couldn't come soon enough for her.
~~~^~~~
“You said you have something, CIC?” the captain asked as he came into the darkened compartment with the XO and TAO in tow.
“We do indeed, Skipper,” the PO on duty Beverly Smith said eagerly, pointing to a blinking icon between their ship and Freedom. She'd put the call in but didn't want to let everyone know they had a contact in case the skipper wanted more detail. “They’re good; I'll give them that. They almost got away. Our recon drones are better. In another hour, they'll slip through our net,” she said.
“You are sure of this contact?” the XO demanded. There had been a lot of false positives.
“Aye, sir.” The PO's fingers writhed on her keyboard as she brought up the icon and then switched to the drone feed. They could just make out a shape moving against the stars cape. She tapped another icon, and it was highlighted.
“She is a Cleveland class, sir. Definitely not one of ours.”
“But if we fire on her, she'll run. How do we catch her?” the TAO asked, clearly aggrieved at the situation.
“Aunt Liberty, contact the CAG. I've got a mission for her. Comm, raise Freedom. Let them know where our contact is, her heading and then tell them we're going to slip our fighters out to run them down. Suggest they do the same. Then get off a contact report to Bismark.”
“Aye, sir,” the rating replied.
&
nbsp; “Good work, Bev,” the captain said as he left.
~~~^~~~
Captain Vassili Senpi of the Omaha class light cruiser Damion Drake grimaced as the enemy squadron continued to nail his ship's position down. He'd managed to barely slip out of their net but only because he'd changed his course and heading the moment he got the contact report of their jumps from CIC.
“I don't like this. They are too good; they are just too damn good. We're going to get boxed again,” he muttered as he noted additional contacts moving in between him and his target. “We're out of position to jump to Dead Drop.”
“You wanted to take out the platform, sir. We knew the risks,” his XO said almost apologetically.
Vassili grunted. He had been trying to edge around the enemy to get a clear shot at the new ansible platform. It had been easier said than done. It hadn't been in his orders, but he thought it was worth a little modification to them. Besides, he had thought the enemy would think he was skulking out on the periphery like Kenya had Garrot.
Apparently, they weren't taking any chances with their last platform. He pulled the plot up and noted they were going to pass a nearby asteroid in two hours. It would make a good place to do a sling shot and change their vector. “Nav, you see that rock off the starboard side? I want us to sling around it and back to deep space. Think you can arrange it?”
“Aye aye, sir. We'll work that plan, sir,” the navigator said with a slight tone of relief in his voice.
“Outstanding,” the captain murmured.
~~~^~~~
Lieutenant Jane Darling's fighters locked onto the Cleveland class cruiser with almost pinpoint accuracy. She was proud of her team. They'd spread out in case Liberty's CIC had lost lock on the enemy when the recon drones had run out, but it hadn't been necessary. The enemy ship had performed one crazy Ivan to clear her baffles with her passive sensors and then had returned to her previous course, speed, and heading.