by Chris Hechtl
Even if it was a boring assignment.
They didn't have long to wait before trouble arrived however. It was a very short jump from B-97a to B-97c after all.
:::{)(}:::
The Federation light cruisers Whodiddy and Augusta, and their prowler consort inserted themselves into the B-97c to scout and picket the solar system. Once they secured from jump, the three ships began probing the space around them with active sensors.
It didn't take them long to see a pair of ships on the other side of the solar system. Recon drones were dispatched to scan the star system to make sure nothing else was lurking about. It took the various CIC departments several hours to determine just from the gravtech signatures that the two ships were an Arboth class destroyer and a courier vessel, most likely a small yacht.
“As much as I'd like to chase the bastards off, we can't,” Captain Maevus Jeers of Whodiddy complained. She hated her last name almost as much as she hated her ship's name. She knew someone had a wicked sense of humor somewhere. If she could find them and lead them to a dark alley, she'd strangle them with their own intestines too.
Cornelius Fudge, Captain of Augusta had almost the same problem with his own last name. “I know. I'd love to take them on. A tin can would be a nice appetizer. And we'd be doing the fleet a service. But there is the problem of the other ship.”
“Yeah. True. And our orders. Oh well, Fen, you are on your own. Good luck,” Maevus said, turning to the third captain's image.
“Lucky us. We'll at least scare them,” the prowler captain said with a jaunty salute as she disconnected.
Maevus and Cornelius watched silently as the prowler faded from their plot a moment later. “Show off,” Cornelius grumbled good naturedly.
:::{)(}:::
Widow's Playmate saw the hyperspace emergence on their long-range gravtech sensors long before the pulse of energy, but the destroyer was too far out to tell who or what it was, nor could they do anything about it. The destroyer had orders to remain on station while they sent the courier back to report the news of the arrival. “Don't get lost,” Captain Varbossa said in a parting shot to the courier.
“We won't.”
“And come back soon.”
“That I can't promise you.”
“You'd better. I was going to say it's lonely but not with them here,” Captain Varbossa growled. “Just jump short as we planned. I'll call you if I'm still here. I don't know if they'll chase us off or not. I'm going to do my best to be a hole in space here.”
“Gotcha.”
Once they were in hyper, the courier's XO turned to the skipper. “Are we going back?”
“Lords of space I hope not.”
:::{)(}:::
Space was vast and dark, but it took a bit of chutzpah for prowler UFN-003P to sneak so close and then past the enemy destroyer.
“We're here,” the XO singsonged.
“Shh,” a tech scolded. “They might hear you,” she said.
Captain Danica Fen couldn't help but grin in appreciation at the byplay.
Since their ship was on ballistic, it took an agonizing four hours to sail through the destroyer's engagement zone. Once they were clear, everyone sighed a collective sigh of relief at the confirmation that the cloaking and stealth tech worked.
“Damn, if we had a weapon we could tear them a new one before they even knew it!”
“Just remember what our job is. We're to get the information, not fight.”
“I know, but still,” the XO said, indicating the Horathian destroyer on their scope.
“I know. I think we'll give them a case of the brown shorts when they see us jump out anyway,” the captain said with a Cheshire grin. The XO caught it, snorted.
“Okay, well, there is that,” the XO said grudgingly. “But, someone needs to give us some weapons. And I'm talking something better than a pop gun. A single run would be all it would take to hit them. They've got all their systems on standby! We could probably EVA over to them and say boo and they'd freak!”
“I know. Put it in the suggestion box and let's get back to our own business at hand,” the skipper replied.
“Aye aye, ma'am.”
“See? I didn't have a doubt,” the XO said with a shrug. If it had been anyone, else he might have been pummeled by the crew for his antics, Danica thought. At least he'd lightened the mood a bit.
Danica made certain to get a good fingerprint of the ship for transmission.
Once they were ready, they transmitted everything they had to the two light cruisers in a single message packet. The transmission would have been picked up by the nearby enemy ships so they dropped their cloak and began charging their hyper capacitors immediately.
:::{)(}:::
Captain Varbossa had just gotten to bed when a call from CIC woke him up. As he rubbed the grit out of his eyes, CIC babbled on about a report of a nearby hyperspace jump in progress.
“How nearby?”
“It is charging behind us. One AU out, sir,” the tech said. “I've got it on the plot; I can feed it to you …”
“It is leaving; it didn't come in?” the captain demanded muzzily, still trying to understand. “You mean the courier left? You woke me to inform me that she left how long ago? When I was on the bridge for it?” he demanded in a dangerous tone of voice.
“No, sir! I'm saying that another ship is about to jump for Dead Drop, sir. Her hyperdrive is spooling up now. Based on the readings she's smaller than us. Roughly the same size as the courier. Oh, there she goes!”
“Another ship,” the captain said as he finished wiping Morpheus's sleep sand from his eyes. He pulled out his repeater panel and pulled up the plot. He waited impatiently as it linked to the system. “This thing is buggy; it's not linking fast enough,” he grumbled as it went through the boot-up cycle.
“I'll have someone take a look at it, Skipper,” the tech said helpfully.
The captain barely heard the comment as the plot came up with the icon. It was in a different location than where the courier had left. “Okay … wait, they got past us? How the hell did a ship sail on past us and we didn't even see it?!?” the captain demanded.
“That's what has us jittery, sir. They had to have done it under stealth. We've been playing the vectors for the past two minutes. A least time course from the B-97a jump point can only generate so many courses. And to line up as they did, we're thinking they sailed past us.”
“How close?”
“About two million kilometers out. Well within our long-range sensors, sir, but we didn't see a thing. That's got a lot of people spooked. I mean, if they can do that, why didn't they just walk up and say boo to us? Or worse?”
“Yeah, that's not something I like to think about,” the captain grumbled. “Run the sensors for the time period again. Go over the records for those areas and double the sensor watch. Another ship just might come up and say boo. I'd like to know that before they get into range, thank you very much.”
“Me too,” the junior officer replied. “I mean, aye aye, sir.”
“Right.” The captain cut the channel, then logged out of the repeater and turned the lights off. He tried to go back to sleep but the idea of a ship passing by him … it gave him the heebie-jeebies. Why didn't it take his ship out? Wasn't he good enough?
Or, could it at all? He frowned as he considered the problem. CIC had reported the ship was smaller than the courier. That meant it wasn't a destroyer. Had it been one of those damn prowlers? He tossed and turned, trying to get the thoughts through his head and writing a basic report before he sat up. He pounded the pillow a few times and gave it up. There was no way he was going to be able to sleep after that.
:::{)(}:::
“I'm off. Stay safe,” Captain Fudge said.
“Yeah. I hate sitting here. I hate not being allowed to chase that noisome flea off even worse,” Maevus grumbled.
Cornelius smirked. “You'll get your chance. Second Fleet should have them shitting a brick and run
ning home for mommy the moment they arrive.”
“I don't want them running, I want them dead,” Maevus growled.
“Well, I can't help there. By the time you got across the star system, they'd be gone.”
“Yeah,” Maevus sighed. “Safe sailing.”
“The same,” Cornelius said as he cut the channel and his ship began to charge her hyperdrive.
Chapter 27
Horath
If Elvira thought things were rough before, that had just been baby steps. The Admiralty had pitched one hell of a snit to get things rolling. Ships had cleared out fast. She hadn't been able to keep track of them all; she'd been too busy with her own job.
Analogies like shitting a brick and running around like chickens with their heads cut off suited her opinion of the Admiralty and public. Orders had started to come down fast and furious right after she'd finished her last surprise inspection tour. The Admiralty wanted any ship that could be put into space fast worked on first. That had been a monumental shift in priorities and a total reschedule of everything. It had meant a lot of long nights, hand-wringing, and lost weekends to get it sorted out.
The orders had backed away from notes of panic after the first week. The orders that followed had some interesting messages attached. One big happy family she could relate to in theory, but she wasn't certain it was going to happen overnight, even with the external threat of the Federation bearing down on them.
Then there was the crap about getting the job done right and on time. That boiled down to no more pissing around or games of corruption and graft.
She admired the sentiment. Again though, she wasn't certain she would put much stock in her colleagues listening for long. But, some were taking the order for no more pissing around this is serious to heart.
Every schedule had been accelerated. Any ship above 50 percent was ordered to clear the decks and get into space within half the time they had originally booked on their schedule. She shook her head—as if the engineers had been standing around scratching certain parts of their anatomy before.
At least her people hadn't been, she'd made certain of that.
There was a problem with that scenario as far as she was concerned she had found out. While others were picking up in efficiency, her people had no progress to report other than the usual. It didn't reflect well for her.
That meant they had to get everything right the first time. That was too much to ask for she knew. No one was perfect, and with the games the suppliers had been playing plus the speed they were being called upon, something was bound to be overlooked or missed. She hated it, but hopefully nothing serious.
Hopefully.
Her head was down as she mused about how to find some extra go gears so she didn't see the group coming around the corner until she collided with someone. She looked up as she bounded and saw a chest full of ribbons and gold braids. “Sir!” she said, biting off the bark she had been about to issue. She straightened to attention and saluted as she stepped back. She inwardly cursed her stupidity. How could she be so careless?
“A lot on your mind, Captain …?” Admiral Cartwright asked mildly as he brushed his uniform jacket and made certain nothing was out of order.
“Sorry, sir. I was trying to find some way to shift priorities around.”
“And you were focused on more important things than where you were going. Got it. And you are?” he promoted again.
“Sorry again, sir,” she said, realizing she wasn't going to get out letting him know who he'd run into. “Captain Varbossa, sir.”
“A Varbossa? Which one?” Malwin asked as he shook his sleeves out.
“Elvira, sir.”
“Ah,” Malwin replied as he glanced at Admiral Post and his chief of staff. “Walk with us,” he said, indicating she should go with them.
“Sir?” she asked, falling in behind the flag officers.
“What did you consider as options, Captain?” Admiral Post asked, clearly curious about what she had in mind.
“Well, sir, my people are already at peak efficiency. I've had them there since I took over the section. The problem is it makes me look bad since there is no sign of recent improvement in throughput. I'm trying to find a way to shift things about. I was considering having some of the work be done by the crew. We've got enough of them stopping in and looking over our shoulders as it is anyway.”
“Work like …?” the operations officer asked, clearly curious about the answer.
“Oh, paint, light duties, fittings, that sort of thing. Stuff that takes a while since we have to go through the ship from stem to stern.”
“Ah. I see.”
“That's one of the problems with Ahab's people as they transition over to us,” Malwin said in an aside to all of them as they walked. Junior officers and enlisted came to attention as they braced against the bulkheads to get out-of-the-way. “The Gather Fleet is pretty touchy about their ships. They have bitched about proprietary hardware. They are so competitive!”
“They don't understand we need that edge in everyone, not just one ship,” Admiral Post said.
“Exactly.”
“Some of their modifications are dangerous, sir. Some aren't as good as they think they are,” Elvira ventured.
“That too,” Malwin replied, looking over his shoulder briefly to her. “And I imagine you have to undo a lot of them.”
“Yes, sir. Plus, run deferred maintenance and rebuild things we shouldn't have to because of their modifications,” the captain said in an exasperated and aggrieved tone of voice.”
“There speaks the expert,” Malwin said with a tight-lipped smile to the other flag officer. “Any problems?”
“Well, they are supposed to be on leave or retraining to be in battle fleet. It'd be nice if they did that and didn't pop in and get underfoot, sir. I've put some to work, but a few of the officers I can't do that. Or, they make more of a mess than I'd like.”
“On purpose no doubt to get out of the work,” the chief of staff murmured.
“Probably,” Elvira stated.
“I'm taking your ideas to everyone. Like I said, we need everyone to get behind the wheel and push, Captain. Any other ideas?” Admiral Cartwright said.
“Sir …?”
“Out with it. I can see you've got something but aren't sure how to pitch it. I don't have the time as you know.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, bobbing a nod. “I was thinking that we should consider the risk of sending some of the ships to Garth or the closest repair yards. Have them do the refits there.”
“The materials are here,” Admiral Post pointed out.
“True, but we've saturated a lot of our yard capacity with the refits, which means we're not doing a lot of building now, sir. I also suggest we prioritize ships. Go with the medium class ships and ignore the small fry. Corvettes and frigates aren't of much use in a fleet battle.”
“Agreed,” Admiral Post said, glancing at their boss in surprise.
“You are full of surprises, Captain. And I'm glad you are learning to speak your mind,” Malwin said.
“Thank you, sir.”
“I'll take your ideas under advisement. In fact, write them up,” he ordered. He looked at his chief of staff. “Make sure she has my email. I want her to give me her ideas, and I want to tap her if I need engineering answers.”
“Yes, sir,” the captain said with a nod as he glanced at Elvira.
“I think sending some of the ships to Garth; especially the ones that we know they can refit might work. We can send a couple as a test case since their yard capacity is free,” Malwin mused. “Look into that will you, Lewis?”
“Yes, sir. I'll do that,” Admiral Post replied with a nod.
“What else, Captain?” the admiral asked.
“I've been working with the fighter design team, sir. I think we need to streamline that and push production facilities further out to ramp up production. If they can do subassemblies where they are at they could ship them to us
or to a central hub assembly area. I also think we need to ship more fighters, pilots, and bombers forward. Based on what I read about the Federation's tactics, they are going to be critical in the near future,” Elvira said in a rush, feeling a bit heady about just unloading to such an august personage. Alarm bells should be ringing in her mind, but she liked his attention and the feelings he was evoking in her.
“I think we're working on the small craft issue, but you have a point,” Admiral Post rumbled. “I'll have my people look into that a bit more. I think someone in my department pointed out that fighters and bombers are a natural counter to large capital ships when the weaker force doesn't have the larger ships available,” he said thoughtfully.
“Yes, sir,” Elvira said, eyes sparkling.
“Good. This is our stop, Captain. Good day,” the admiral said as they arrived at the docks. A marine was at attention by the open dock. He checked their credentials as they began to board. Elvira exchanged email addresses and then stepped back as the last person boarded and the hatch closed.
“What just happened?” she asked softly to herself, mind awhirl as she tried to process the conversation. She wasn't certain if the admiral had made her day or was setting her up. After a moment, she shook herself. That was part of the problem, covering their own asses. They needed to work together, to trust more, she reminded herself.
“Damn it, I'm off course, and they made me late,” She muttered as she noted the clock. She turned and took off at a trot the way she had come.
:::{)(}:::
“So, what did you think?” Malwin drawled as he looked over to Lewis. The other admiral had each hand on each knee and was sitting upright like a board.
“I think you are too old for her. I also think you should be past that,” Lewis said with just the right hint of respectful reproach in his voice.
“Not that,” Malwin grumbled as he shook his head. “I meant what the captain said.”
“Which idea?”