by Chris Hechtl
The one tiny shining light of those losses were the number of craft that had been off the ships and the number of life pods that her people had picked up. SAR had thoroughly scanned the area, and everyone who could have been saved had been before they'd pulled out. That was something of a relief to her.
And it was her fault. She knew it; she accepted it. She'd screwed up royally. She hadn't anticipated that the enemy would set up defenses. Nor had she realized they'd go old school and set up rail gun weapon platforms.
It made sense in hindsight of course. She knew it; the tech was relatively simple. The hardest thing was the fire control and finding power. They'd obviously found workarounds. The pirates were definitely no slouches at finding ways to compensate for their qualitative disadvantage.
Well, she'd remember that in their next engagement.
If there was a next engagement for her she thought briefly before she returned her attention to other matters.
~~~^~~~
Commander Ferani had his work cut out for him as he dealt with the mess in his wing and elsewhere. They'd had the retreat to work on the wing internally and then communicate with the other ships about what they had. Fortunately, some of the wings of the lost carriers had been out and had been recovered by Collective Destiny as well as the other surviving carriers and ships. Integrating them would fill up their rosters once more, though dealing with their grief would be an ongoing process.
He wasn't certain if they had the time or not. Most likely they did, the enemy hadn't had a large enough force to come after them. But he wasn't going to take any chances, and Admiral V'r'z'll was in agreement. She had signed off on getting the wings sorted out the moment they arrived in real space and were clear of the jump zone.
Of course, everything had to be managed around the growing number of shuttle and tug flights that were underway to move materials around and make repairs. But his people were on it.
~~~^~~~
The remains of the fleet train streamed in warily over the course of several days. Each was a welcome sight for the survivors though many were damaged to varying degrees as well. All of the damage hindered their repairs and resupply. One of the oilers had lost most of her fuel in hyperspace. The crew hadn't been able to transfer the fuel from the leaking tanks to others because they were full. Nor could they go out and patch the hull while in hyperspace. Interior patches hadn't been possible; the fuel had filled the voids around the interior bladders preventing access. Any attempt to vent it could have set off an explosion or so the captain and engineer claimed when they reported in.
~~~^~~~
Captain Troi smiled as her XO came onto the bridge. She handed the tablet back to the bosun and then came over to the XO as he paused near OPS. “How are things?” she asked.
Commander Silverfish looked up and then smiled politely to the skipper. He was glad to see her back on duty. The head injury had been serious enough for her to be laid up in sickbay for days on their retreat. She still reported headaches and spots from time to time.
“We've got all of the damage we can handle under control or squared away, Skipper. We've got to replace two of the port gravity nodes however. That's not going to be fun.”
“I know,” she replied dryly as she shook her head. “But you came from a tender, so you should be up for the challenge,” she said with a grin.
He snorted. “I didn't get my hands dirty like the wrench turners, ma'am. Not that often anyway,” he said with a chuff and ear flick.
“Didn't want to get your precious paws dirty?” she teased.
He snorted. “Do you have any idea how bad the taste of grease is?” he asked as he shook his head. “At least we use vegetable oil for some of the hydraulics but that stuff is nasty,” he said with a deadpan expression.
“Well, if you washed up like the rest of us instead of using your tongue, you wouldn't have to worry about that,” she said as she crossed her arms and smiled at him.
He flicked his ears again. She reached out and patted him on the arm and then went back to making the rounds around the bridge.
Commander Silverfish was on his way back to his office to deal with the remains of his paperwork when he ran into Commodore Binks. The other Neocat looked bemused as he stared at some scorch damage.
“Plasma conduit backed up. The surge protectors cut in, but it was close,” the commander said, coming up behind the other Neocat. The black Neocat turned to look at him and then went back to observing the robots using ultrasonics to try to scrape off the damage.
“Lost cause actually. I think the panels should be pulled. You can see the paint has bubbled,” the commodore said with a shake of his head.
“I'll have a work party on it, sir,” the XO said as he logged the order.
“Good,” Zachery said, turning away. “How is the crew?”
“Getting there, sir. Everyone's pretty busy. We were one of the lucky ones, so a part of our engineering department has been borrowed to help with repairs on the other ships.”
“Ah,” the commodore replied with a nod. “And the skipper?”
“She's tough, sir. She's a survivor. She's back on her feet and is ready to kick butt,” the commander replied loyally.
Zackery wiggled his whiskers and ears briefly at the sign of loyalty. “Well, let's hope it doesn't come to that,” he said as he turned away.
When he didn't say anything but didn't move away, the commander ventured a statement to draw the commodore out. “Very hairy, sir.”
“Hairy indeed or the reverse,” the commodore said.
The commander blinked and then his eyes narrowed. “Sir?”
“I feel like we got our asses shaved and then taken out to the woodshed and spanked,” the commodore said with a shake of his head.
The commander blinked and then flicked his ears in humor.
“I would have liked my first taste of combat as a flag officer to have gone differently. But we don't get to choose those things. We'll deal with it.”
“Yes, sir,” the commander replied, wondering briefly if the commodore was worried about facing a flag board. He didn't have much to worry about. Admiral V'r'z'll on the other hand might. He turned as a work party approached. He pointed to the offending panel. The CPO in charge nodded and then motioned for his crew to do an inspection and then get to work.
“I'll leave them to it,” the commodore stated.
“Me too, sir. Paperwork beckons,” the commander mock growled. The commodore snorted as they parted ways.
~~~^~~~
Commander Chi'th had his hands full as he tried to deal with his duties as fleet quartermaster. His orderly manifests and plans were in the crapper. He didn't like it, and he hated being forced to adapt. But, they were finally getting a handle on things. Based on the last report, they only had the ansible transport to wait for. Anyone and everyone else who had gotten out was there with them getting patched back together.
He buzzed in annoyance when he noted the request from Enterprise to replace some grav nodes. He checked the log and then the priority list. They had other nodes in that wall, so it wasn't a high priority. They hadn't been as badly hit as Defiant, their sister ship. She had lost half of her nodes and was lucky to have gotten out at all. He jotted out a response with some platitudes to be patient and then went back to checking on the priority repairs.
~~~^~~~
Captain Purple Thorn kept her face impassive as she watched the repairs on the exterior of her hull. Replacing a node was a pain in the ass. Replacing half of them even more so. They might as well pull them all and do a full retune. But, that wasn't up to her.
The nodes that weren't being replaced should be rebuilt. Instead, they were being patched and then her crew and ship's A.I. were going to do their best to tune the new nodes with the old existing ones. It was not going to be easy.
And there were problems in the process. Problems like wear on the old nodes. They'd carried far more than their design called for when their fellows had failed. Bu
t that was just one of her problems; the other was the hull damage. Fortunately, there wasn't a lot of structural damage to deal with. There were some issues, but her crew was on it.
She saw a small figure out on the hull. Her large eyes narrowed and then her implants noted her focus on the individual and an IFF was placed over the figure. Ensign Truepath was out there, supervising the repairs. She nodded once. Good.
~~~^~~~
When the transport Vivian Pennington did arrive, Admiral V'r'z'll didn't waste time with fervent sighs of relief. “We are glad to see you, ma'am! We half expected the enemy to be in possession,” Captain Blaze said, making up for the admiral's lack of relief with his own. The fire yellow Neolab looked intensely relieved to see them.
“Yes, I know. But we weren't going to leave you behind.”
“We have one core left, Admiral. It's damaged.”
“How damaged?”
“We have less than 10 percent of the core left. All that maneuvering …”
“I'll take what I can get,” she said, cutting him off. “We need to report in.” Not that she wanted to she thought.
“We'll get on it straight away, ma'am,” Captain Blaze replied. “Where do you want it?”
“Here,” she said, tapping controls with her left truehand to send the coordinates to the transport. He nodded. “I'll expect your report shortly.”
“On it, ma'am,” he said as he cut the channel.
She watched as the ship paused and then began to move to the center of the star system to where she intended to have it set up the ansible. She detailed a destroyer to go with them. Based on their course and speed, it would take six days to get to the other side of the primary. She knew from experience that it would take another six days or so to set the platform up and install the core. Hopefully, they could cut that time down. She wasn't thrilled about reporting in, but she had a duty to do so. She also had a duty to prevent Admiral White from walking into Garth without a warning if the prowler didn't get to him.
~~~^~~~
Admiral V'r'z'll pulled no punches when she reported in two weeks later. She sent the initial data stream after a connection was established. She wasn't surprised when she was called in for a conference an hour later.
“Let's hear it again, Admiral,” Admiral Irons said when everyone was present.
“First, our bandwidth is highly limited,” the Veraxin admiral ventured. “Data is still being sent on a side channel.”
“Understood. What happened?” Admiral Irons' image asked.
She swiveled an eye to him and then to Admirals Pashenkov, Sienkov, Champion, Subert, and Sharp Reflexes. She felt a little dismayed by the audience. Several of the officers were individuals she had idolized and had modeled certain stages of her career after. Others were trusted colleagues. She realized she was very much on trial for the fiasco.
“Very well. We exited hyperspace in an orderly fashion as planned. You can access the data. I had split the fleet into three units with the screen forward, the carriers in the center pocket and the fleet train and their escorts bringing up the rear. We were set upon right off …”
She continued with her verbal report. No one interrupted or asked questions. When she finished, she signaled first-degree self-loathing. She was aware that the motion wouldn't be transmitted however. “We are making good on what repairs we can now. I am responsible for what happened. I am offering my resignation.” she trembled a little at that last statement.
“Denied,” Admiral Irons stated flatly. “You screwed up. You didn't pull any punches with your report. I respect that. Yes, you failed to recon the enemy. The fear of giving away surprise was there, yes, but it wasn't sufficient. You relied on outdated intelligence. When you knew the enemy knew you were there and your intentions, you continued to follow through with your plan instead of adapting. That's on you. You are lucky you didn't lose more,” he said.
“Sir …”
“I'm not finished,” the admiral stated flatly. She shut up quickly.
“You did react to the enemy and you got what you could preserve out of there to fight another day. And you hit back, destroying their yard and orbital infrastructure in the process. Our assessments of the data you are sending are ongoing.”
“Yes, sir. I know it was a goal to take them intact, but it was my decision,” the Veraxin stated.
“You made the best of a bad situation, and you hurt the enemy in a way far worse than they hurt you. For now, Admiral, I want a fresh assessment of your logistics and ships. I want new data on Garth. That means you'll need to send in a prowler.”
“They may be expecting it, sir. We took out the orbital fortresses and weapon platforms, but Second Fleet's prowler reported additional ones being constructed at the Dead Drop jump point.”
“Understood. Do it anyway. They know the risks and will take the appropriate measures to minimize them. We'll talk again later,” Admiral Irons stated and then cut her out of the circuit.
~~~^~~~
Antigua
“What do we do, sir? About TF3.2 and Admiral V'r'z'll?” Admiral Pashenkov asked.
Admiral Irons looked over to him and the other officers in the room as well as virtually. He realized internally that most were Bekians; only Phil, Amadeus, and himself were not. He also instantly recognized the pickle he was in. If he pulled her, it would be saying he didn't trust the Bekians after giving Amadeus a second chance.
Politics were rearing their head even in war he thought with a pang.
“I'm not going to pull her. Binks is okay, but he doesn't have her experience in fleet command. She made a lot of mistakes. I think she's come to recognize them.”
“She's certainly been humbled,” Admiral Sharp Reflexes stated.
“That she was. She rigidly stuck to her battle plan. She didn't adapt, and I noticed she had no cyber warfare program. She initiated it late in the battle, and only as a sop when pressed. She hoped it might get something, but she didn't count on it.”
“To be fair the enemy anticipated it, and it wasn't effective,” Admiral Sienkov pointed out.
“True. But if she had gotten it off right off or had ordered the prowler to do so, it might have cut down on the accuracy of the enemy's fire during the engagement,” Admiral Sharp Reflexes pointed out.
“Exactly. You use all the tools you are given when you can. Not everything is a nail in need of a hammer,” Admiral Irons stated.
Yorgi smiled at the engineering analogy.
“You want to scout to keep them guessing, sir?” Admiral Pashenkov asked.
Admiral Irons looked over to the Neowolf and then nodded once. “I also want her people to go back to thinking offensively. Sure, they got licked, but they need to get their heads on straight and get back into the game. We need to keep pressure on that front to divide De Gaulte and force them to remain on the defense.”
“Well, the good news is she did a thorough job of trashing Garth. They won't have an easy time resupplying from it locally. Which will mean they'll be forced to rely on Dead Drop as well as the Empire. We can exploit that,” Amadeus stated.
“Are you going in?” Odette asked curiously.
“Just as soon as Sun Tzu's force arrives and we've had a couple days to integrate with them, yes. I'm going to push De Gaulte back if possible. If he runs to Garth, he won't be easily resupplied there. We did a number on some of the facilities in Dead Drop but not enough to completely obliterate them. I can use the same strategy there, scorched earth if I'm forced back out.”
“If he is forced, I'm talking about De Gaulte, will he try to hold Garth or will he fall back to the Empire?” Admiral Sharp Reflexes asked.
“That is the one hundred million credit question of the day,” Amadeus stated. “Personally, based on what I know in battling the man, he'll try to hold Garth for as long as he can. He may be shy about engaging, but he knows he doesn't want us to bottle Horath up.”
“There is another factor to consider. He may be worried about his own life
if he fails again and his protectors can't cover for him this time,” Yorgi stated. “We could be looking at a possible purge if push comes to shove and he's forced to retreat again.”
“That will make things interesting on their end. They'll be forced to train replacements. That will be a window we might exploit,” Admiral Sharp Reflexes stated.
“Unless they get aggressive to push us back to give themselves more breathing room. We don't know what is in the pipeline from Horath,” Admiral Irons stated.
“This changes things,” Amadeus murmured. “I feel like we're on the precipice. Like the tide is finally turning in our favor for once.”
“We'll see. Don't jinx it,” Admiral Irons stated.
Act III
Chapter 39
Antigua
Commander Jory Gray looked up from the still images and 3D model he had been working on to his inbox. He was confused at first until he realized from the header that it was a report on the battle of Garth.
Finally! He thought as he opened the file. His eyes started to scan it and then he froze, sucking in a breath in protest as the gist got to him.
Slowly he sat back, feeling like he'd been punched. The numbers didn't lie though. He hadn't known it had been that bad. “Damn,” he murmured, leaning forward again and reading the file over again. Some things fairly leapt out at him. It hurt to see them.
The fleet defense destroyers he and Admiral Irons had created had taken a beating. Most, like the Nelsons, they'd been designated to replace had been hammered. He tried to not take it personally, but it was hard, so very hard.
He scanned the report again and then looked into how those ships were lost. He read about the rail gun clouds and then shook his head and looked over to the still images and 3D model.
That was the answer then he thought, staring at the thing. The enemy had taken a page from the past to fight that battle. And the defense destroyers had been set up to interdict missiles and energy weapons, not brute mass. Sure, they could deflect some shots but a cloud of them? He shook his head.