Loyalty to the Cause (TCOTU, Book 4) (This Corner of the Universe)

by Britt Ringel

  “I caught that too,” Vernay agreed. “I think it’s one of the reasons we were offered such attractive terms. Did you notice that all of the really favorable options in the contract kick in only if we exercise the landed part of it? Cheap, gorgeous land and massive incentives to build on it… it all points to a man that wants us to retire and then sell our ship to him.” They turned a corner and descended one deck by ladder. Elathra had two elevators to transport personnel between her three decks but the ladder was convenient.

  “Sure,” Heskan said as he climbed down to the main deck. “It’s how many billions of credits to build a snow? If we retired here, he could probably just build our houses using corporate contractors and reduce his payout even more.”

  Heskan waited for Vernay to reach him and they continued in tandem toward the bridge. Vernay’s hopeful eyes looked up to Heskan. “Captain, are we really going to retire? Won’t you miss the military?”

  Heskan grinned and retorted, “Why would I miss it? With you living next to me, I’m sure I’ll hear ‘Captain’ at least ten times a day.”

  Vernay gave him a sly smile. “Oh, I might eventually start calling you Garrett on a more frequent basis.”

  The bridge’s portal sensors detected their approach and slid the door open. Lieutenant Truesworth was Elathra’s acting captain with Heskan and Vernay off the ship. The lieutenant was in lively discussion with two Seshafian lieutenants.

  Heskan approached and surmised, “You must be part of the supplemental crew.”

  The two officers came to attention. The three-bladed propeller badge on the female lieutenant’s chest designated her occupation as an engineer. The crossed cannons of the male’s badge marked him as a weapons specialist.

  “Lieutenant Miranda Ayala, Engineering.” The woman saluted crisply. Heskan nodded amicably and shook her hand.

  “Lieutenant Mark Hall, Weapons, Captain.” After another salute, handshakes were again exchanged.

  Heskan smiled sheepishly and consoled, “I’m sorry you two are stuck with a privateer’s ship for the duration.”

  The lieutenants exchanged surprised looks before Ayala explained, “Captain, we’re just excited to be able to take part in the battle. The Navy wants combat-experienced officers; they don’t care on which ship you receive it.”

  “I beat out nearly fifty other applicants for this billet, Captain,” Hall stated proudly. “This is our big chance.” He looked longingly at the WEPS station. “To serve on a snow is an even greater distinction. I would have been thrilled with a corvette.”

  “Well,” Heskan replied, “hold your opinion until my first officer has put you through the wringer. She grew up through WEPS and her standards are pretty high.”

  Truesworth suffered a coughing fit next to Heskan that sounded curiously like the word “Understatement.”

  Hall smiled at Vernay and stated, “I’m looking forward to that, ma’am. For as long as I can remember, I’ve wanted the ‘WEPS’ moniker. I’ve worked hard to earn it but I’m not fool enough to think I know everything there is to know and, besides, I’ve heard Hollaran weapons officers are amazing.”

  Vernay returned his smile and nodded affably while saying, “Indeed they are, second best in the galaxy.”

  The seemingly conflicting statement earned a curious expression from Hall but he knew when it was appropriate to nod and smile. Vernay looked to Lieutenant Ayala and said, “Do you have any experience with Junkkers drives, Miranda?”

  The woman flinched slightly. “Not in actual combat, just in simulated battles, ma’am. However, I was stationed on Dash my first two years as a lieutenant and she has Junkkers.” She looked between Heskan and Vernay briefly before stating, “About two-thirds of our brought-in equipment is Hollaran. All the corporate systems in the LMA have strong relationships with the Hollies.” She immediately brought a hand over her mouth as she blushed. “No offense meant by that term, Captain. We don’t mean it like ‘Vics do.”

  “We’re not too caught up on nicknames, Miranda,” Heskan regarded. “In fact, you might be surprised at how open some of my crew is to both the Commonwealth and the Republic. All we care is that the person next to us does their job well. We don’t care where you come from.”

  “We won’t let you down, sir,” Ayala promised. “As Mark said, this is our big break and we’re both willing to do anything that’s required.” She grimaced knowingly and added, “Our performance reviews from you will mean everything so, please, give us feedback on what we need to do to ace them.”

  In all his time with the Brevic Navy, Heskan hated the hours spent wordsmithing officer performance reports. Heskan smiled wickedly at his next thought. “I only sign them, Miranda. Commander Vernay writes the reports and I’ve found feedback from her to be nearly continuous.”

  Vernay’s disapproving scowl made Heskan’s grin brighter by contrast.

  * * *

  Heskan’s mirth was short-lived. Elathra’s participation in the Seshafian naval exercise held late into the night had been grueling. Admiral Cooke demanded absolute perfection in his fleet, from the most important maneuvers down to the most trivial of details. How his ships communicated with each other, how they sailed as a unit, and how they coordinated targets were all carefully scrutinized. Shortcomings were noted but not railed on. Instead, Cooke offered constructive criticism while always mindful that his aim was enhancing a ship’s performance and its commander’s self-confidence.

  Though drained after the exercise, Heskan was impressed. Cooke was an outstanding leader who enjoyed the admiration and respect of his subordinates. At the previous night’s ball, the recurring theme from Seshafian officers had been their unequivocal trust and faith in the admiral, and Heskan now understood why Cooke commanded such devotion. He possessed the charisma of a natural leader and a mastery of naval tactics. That he controlled the fleet not from a combat ship but from a Communications, Command and Control, or C-3, ship cruising behind the line of battle made his skill more remarkable. He had privately explained that fleet admirals were kept separate from the battle chaos not only to retain undamaged command and control capability but also to ensure uninterrupted communications with the opposing admiral for negotiation and, if necessary, capitulation. Cooke’s soothing yet sharp voice was a constant source of strength and calm for the fleet during even the most hectic moments in the exercise. Heskan found himself buoyed by the knowledge that Cooke would be constantly guiding the fleet from a sheltered position.

  The feelings of respect seemed mutual based on the praise Cooke lavished on Elathra. Although Selvaggio possessed extensive experience in station-keeping a vessel in line ahead and line abreast formations, she never expected to use the antiquated formations in actual combat. When she expressed her shock, Lieutenant Hall explained from the WEPS station that the use of such formations made the bloodbaths experienced in the major powers’ wars nearly impossible to achieve by design. “After all,” the young weapons officer clarified, “annihilation isn’t the objective, just forcing the other side to retire from battle.” There was a certain logic to it, Heskan admitted. Today’s foe could be tomorrow’s ally and fighting a war of utter destruction would only weaken both sides and make them vulnerable to other rival corporations.

  By the time Cooke signaled the fleet to retire from the practice field, Heskan and his crew were exhausted but armed with a far greater understanding of corporate naval tactics. Each fleet organized itself into three sections: the vanguard or van, the main and the rearguard. The sections lined up like ducklings in their respective formations. There were no shielding escort squadrons as each ship was, by tradition and honor, expected to protect itself. As the lines sailed toward each other, maneuvering skill became paramount. Passes against foes became a series of feints as each admiral jockeyed for the best position. Oftentimes, just as Heskan thought a pass would end in an exchange of fire, the computer-simulated enemy would, sensing disadvantage, reorient its fleet at the last moment to avoid battle. Both fleets wou
ld then scramble to position their lines for best effectiveness on the next pass.

  The admiral that could best maneuver his fleet in three dimensions to bear the highest concentration of each ship’s broadside upon the enemy would generally carry the day. “Broadside” was a misnomer as each ship would present its best weapons profile during a pass. For the Colossus-class snows, their “broadside” was actually a frontal attack. This had proved complicated for the Seshafian navigators piloting Elathra’s sister snows: Rindr, Anakim and Ravana. The constant maneuvers ordered by Admiral Cooke often necessitated the snows to be facing one orientation while bringing to bear their maximum firepower required another. It was a delicate rhythm requiring anticipation and a little luck on behalf of the navigator to know the proper time to yaw the ship to present her broadside without getting caught facing the wrong direction to accomplish the next sailing order.

  Heskan was not surprised that Selvaggio picked up the ebb and flow of line maneuvers combined with combat passes quickly. He was a little distraught that the other snows in his rearguard section were having greater difficulty. Fortunately, the fifth vessel in his section, a Seshafian corvette named Honor, was having no trouble. As the vessels in the fleet formed up to make way for the orbital, Heskan sent a section-wide message to his charges. “This is Captain Heskan. It looks as if Admiral Cooke is calling it a day. My congratulations go out to each captain and their crew for a magnificent performance. We have some work to do before the next exercise but judging from today’s display, I remain very confident in each ship’s ability to do its job. At twenty-two hundred hours, Lieutenant Selvaggio will be conducting a navigator’s debriefing for each NAV section in the rearguard to highlight some improvement opportunities regarding presenting the best batteries during combat passes. I want you all to sleep well tonight for we’ll surely be back at it tomorrow morning. Heskan out.”

  He ended the transmission and looked at Selvaggio. “Diane, you get a little less sleep than the rest of us,” he joked.

  The raven-haired lieutenant shrugged. “I don’t mind, sir. How did Admiral Hayes say it? ‘The more you sweat in peace, the less you bleed in war.’”

  Heskan saw Vernay nod approvingly but he cringed inwardly at the mention of Hayes with Lieutenant Hall sitting nearby. We’re all too Brevic, he thought. We may as well just wear Brevic uniforms for all the good this new identity stuff is doing us. “We can learn something from everyone,” Heskan said loudly. “Even from a ‘Vic,” he finished while subtly nodding in Hall’s direction.

  Selvaggio ducked her head between her shoulders as she understood his meaning. She made a quick, “zip, lock and toss” motion with her hand over her mouth before turning back to her console.

  “Stacy,” Heskan continued, “talk to the chief and see how our supplemental crew performed today. I want the two of you to have exercise evaluations done on each of them for every day we practice.”

  Vernay dipped her head. “That won’t be a problem, Captain. We have plenty of officers onboard to write those reports.”

  Indeed, with sixteen former fighter pilots, Elathra was obnoxiously top-heavy. Many of them were performing in billets meant for petty officers or even spacemen. Fortunately, the “Kite-16” had grown used to working in positions that other officers may have considered below their station. The thought of their dedication brought a rush of pride to Heskan. No matter what we’ve asked from them, they’ve pitched in with a humble enthusiasm. Although some had expressed their desire to move on from Elathra after the battle, many seemed content to settle on Seshafi with their comrades.

  * * *

  There were more exercises the next day. Maneuvering faded to the background and combat passes became the greater focus. Heskan’s rearguard did better than the day before, with most captains succeeding in timing their rotations to bring their best weapons to bear during each pass. Coming from Kite, Heskan was appalled by the indecisiveness of each combat pass. The total of only thirty seconds in heavy laser range and a mere five to ten seconds within 5ls of their enemy made for ridiculously brief engagements. Further, against the Hollarans, Brevics fought their ship until it no longer had the capacity to continue. In corporate war, Heskan found that after as little as a single pass, competing ships that had been damaged might retire and be withdrawn from battle. Cooke had informed him that the entire “battle” would be resolved in one or two passes before one fleet would decline further engagement and concede.

  Such short but intense moments of battle explained the unique configurations of corporate rated ships. Vernay had been aghast when she first saw the schematic of Seshafi’s third-rate, Diomedes, the largest ship that would defend the system. Constructed under contract by AmyraCorp in the Federation system of Helwan, the ship had been proposed and built for its singular purpose as a corporate ship of the line. Given the confines of line battles, Diomedes’ armament was located entirely along a single side of the ship. In contrast, Seshafi’s only other rated ship, the fourth-rate, Ajax, had a conventional weapons outlay. Ajax, having been built nearly eighty years ago, was a relic of early corporate war when the current, restrictive boundaries of combat had yet to be established. Initially, Heskan had shared Vernay’s dismay over Diomedes’ design until he saw how the line formations worked in battle and how easy it was to avoid combat. If Diomedes ever faced a pass where, due to inept tactics or improper handling, her broadside was facing the wrong direction, she could merely alter course well in advance of entering heavy laser range and correct her facing for the next run. It seemed no fleet admiral faced a battle pass without his willing participation. Further, damaged ships could easily withdraw and retire from the conflict between such runs to avoid destruction. When one side of the battle had an insufficient number of willing participants, the fleet admiral would yield and submit to the terms negotiated before, and during, the battle.

  While he noted Covington did not share his views, Cooke told Heskan that although IaCom’s casus bellum indicated an outright hostile takeover, he and Wallace would begin reducing the stakes of the battle before hostilities even commenced. It was common practice to declare “all or nothing” in the casus bellum and then bargain down to the terms that were actually coveted by the aggressor system. Cooke told Heskan he believed IaCom was seeking rights of sale to prospective clients around the Federation district system of Sistrum.

  Each day of exercise saw improvement in Heskan’s rearguard. The fleet’s vanguard, comprised solely of native Seshafian vessels with Ajax as the flagship, had demonstrated nearly flawless helmsmanship and gunnery from the onset. The main section, led by Diomedes, had done nearly as well despite two snows in that particular section belonging to DAC privateers. On the final day, as Heskan watched the fleet form up expertly under Admiral Cooke’s direction, he began to believe that his Brevic crew might be spared a repeat of their brutal and blood-filled past.

  Chapter 27

  “Tunnel disturbance, Captain.”

  “Our friends, Jack?” Heskan asked.

  Truesworth nodded as Elathra’s tactical plot updated with multiple ship beacons. Amazing, Heskan marveled. They’re invading our system with their navigation beacons on. Of course, we’re defending while broadcasting our presence too. He shook his head. A small part of him had been unwilling to believe that Admiral Cooke would freely abdicate such a crucial advantage as the defensive fleet’s position.

  “Disconnect the newscast,” Heskan ordered with relief.

  “Gladly,” Truesworth acknowledged and terminated the live feed from the starship covering the battle from 2lm away. When the ship had taken station two hours ago, Heskan learned it was customary for the hosting star system to broadcast the events as they played out. His bitterness turned into astonishment when he realized his own Seshafian crew wanted to listen to the prognosticators interview officers and breathlessly predict the strategies and outcome of the looming battle. His refusal to permit the feed onto Elathra was met with another, brief counseling session from Coo
ke. The admiral said such things were habitual and not allowing it would not only harm morale in his ship but provide fodder to be used against Heskan when, after the battle, he answered questions from the media. Heskan was adamant about not participating in any interviews but relented to permit the newscast on board Elathra, although only until the enemy appeared.

  If Heskan found the news ship disturbing, the six spectator ships accompanying it threatened to drive him to total distraction. They’re treating this as if it’s a Slamball game, Heskan thought sourly. How can this be? Spectators permitted, even welcomed… right on the sidelines of the battlefield. He shook his head in attempt to regain focus.

  “How many ships did Wallace bring, Jack?” Vernay asked beside Heskan.

  “Fifteen,” Truesworth answered. “Just like the order of battle specified.” He peered closer at his console’s screen as he inspected the enemy fleet’s composition. “It looks like they weren’t lying. I see a second-rate, a fourth-rate, four brigs and the rest are snows.”

  “Concur,” Vernay confirmed while turning to Heskan. “Captain, fleet composition is what we expected. Not exactly an even match even if the numbers say otherwise.”

  Both fleets were carrying fifteen vessels, broken into three, five-ship sections. However, the seeming parity was skewed when ship classes were examined. IaCom’s fleet massed much greater overall tonnage, with her larger flagship and double the number of brigs compared to AmyraCorp’s defense fleet. The tonnage gap had been known with the release of the order of battle; the unknown was how Admiral Wallace would divide his fleet into sections. Likewise, Admiral Cooke had the entirety of his defense fleet in a single, large formation, seemingly reluctant to tip his hand before the aggressors made their opening move.

  “Message going out to the enemy fleet, Captain,” Truesworth announced. “It’s over the general frequency.”