The Gathering Storm (The New Federation Book 4)

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The Gathering Storm (The New Federation Book 4) Page 66

by Chris Hechtl


  “You took a risk traveling at that speed in a damaged ship, Captain.”

  “With respect, sir, you needed to know.”

  “I know. And you had no way of knowing the prowler would arrive and pass you. Okay.”

  “Sir, about my ship …”

  “If you are asking if you can stay, the answer is no. Head back to Protodon for repairs.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “And don't look so down about it, Captain; you did good. Your crew is to be commended and will be.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  :::{)(}:::

  Once in hyperspace, Admiral White discussed the prowler's report with his staff.

  “This proves he's running a bluff. And he's trying to buy time with these raids,” Kyle stated.

  “Yes, but it also tells us that he's waiting for reinforcements—heavy reinforcements,” Kelly warned, looking at the admiral significantly. He grunted. “I think you are right though, sir, he's been reinforced enough to feel confident about risking some of his force in this raid.”

  “Agreed.” They had gotten the prowler's report and then had her do a turnaround to get back to Dd01ns quickly. Captain Falling Drop's point about the SNHH jump point was something he'd overlooked. He didn't want anything lurking there to come out and bite him —not that he suspected anything in the star system. ONI and the old Federation records listed the star system as a lightly populated agro world with no asteroid belt, gas giants, and no exports. It was basically a dirt-poor retirement world that few had visited. Apparently, the enemy had invaded it, but that was all they knew.

  If there was nothing there as suspected, he'd bypass it and go on to the real prize. He'd let the Marines tidy up SNHH when they had the time.

  “Can we turn the tables on them?” Kyle asked slowly.

  “Oh?” Amadeus asked, turning to the OPS officer. “Do you have something specific in mind?”

  “Well, they are obviously stacking up on jump points as we are. What I'm considering, and this would have to rely on Aleck's people a lot, is we send a force to come in on a different vector. Sort of jump out wide, say a light week or two and then come in on a completely different vector.”

  The Neocat TAO's black ears perked up instantly. “I like it, sir. Hit them where they least expect it and use their own tactic against them all at once!” Garfield said with an ear-to-ear grin. “We can catch them between forces as they try to pin what they think is a weaker opponent down.”

  Amadeus frowned thoughtfully. “Don't get your hopes up. We're not sure it will work yet. The prowler did confirm there are no defenses there, nor much static defenses at all for that matter. There are some around the DD01ns jump point,” he said, examining the spatial volume. “And I bet …,” he tapped a control and highlighted a platform, “I bet these are some sort of fighter platform. Scratch built obviously,” he said.

  Garfield nodded as they examined the feed. He had the computer enhance the sensor data and then draw a topographical map before eliminating the raw data to produce a 3D wireframe. He frowned and then pointed to a few features. “Communications, not much sensors, but that makes sense if they are relying on distributed platforms and the command and control of other ships. See these rectangles? Those look like boat bays. Yeah, I'd say you are right, sir.”

  “I agree, sir,” Kelly said slowly. “Which makes me wonder what sort of fighter and bomber strength they've got in the system,” she warned.

  “Like what, Raptors? Our fighters can eat them for breakfast,” Garfield snorted.

  “Let's not get too full of ourselves; we don't know what is there. Our quality is important, but quantity has a quality all on its own if used properly,” Amadeus warned. “They didn't launch anything while the prowler was in the system?” he asked, turning to Kelly and then Leopold.

  “Shuttles only and only regular traffic from the planet to the platforms and such. No fighters or bombers.”

  “So, someone is getting cagey. They don't want us to know their numbers. Could it be another bluff, sir? Make us think they've got ten times the firepower they actually have?”

  “Possible. What is the timeline for these platforms?” he asked. “What I mean to say is, were there any when the prowler made her first pass?”

  “Let me check,” Kelly murmured. After a few minutes, she looked up and shook her massive head. “No, sir. No mention of them nor any sign of construction.”

  “Interesting. And they managed to throw them together in that short time period. Even more interesting.”

  “No power that we can see. They have no fusion reactors—how do they power them? Beam energy?” Kyle asked.

  “Possible, though they don't have a solar farm,” Kelly stated.

  “It doesn't matter at the moment. Kelly, estimate how many fighters they can fit into one of those platforms. Give me a pessimistic number—hot bunk, use the ceilings, stage the fighters, the works. Talk to the engineers on board if you have to.”

  “I'd rather talk to the CAGs, but I'll see if the boat bay officers can help,” she replied.

  “Good. I want to get a rough estimate of what he's got.”

  “Yes, sir. Do you think this will affect the plan?”

  “I don't know. Possibly. It may mean we need to adapt. We definitely need to stay out of range of those platforms. Force his fighters to come to us low on fuel.”

  “Ah. Bypass them?” Garfield asked.

  “Possible. Look into a long-range strike too while you are at it,” Amadeus suggested. The Neocat nodded.

  “Kill the carrier, kill a lot of fighters. Or at least force them to double up on other platforms that might be overloaded. Sounds good, sir,” the Neocat said, flicking his ears as he made a note. “I'd say a stealth strike would work best. If we have to do it openly, we'd have to do a saturation strike to get through any fighter defense they put up. And those things might not be nimble or highly mobile, but they probably have RCS so they can jink,” the Neocat mused, scratching behind one ear as he considered the problem.

  “Good. That should be enough homework for the moment. If anyone thinks of anything, make a note and we'll discuss it tomorrow,” the admiral said as he dismissed them.

  :::{)(}:::

  B-95a3

  The Arboth class destroyer Hachimaze made good time in hyperspace, arriving in B-95a3 three weeks after leaving the star system, well ahead of the enemy ships. “Transmit our IFF. Broadcast it. We're not too late, are we?”

  “Sensors are still coming in, sir,” CIC reported.

  “Very well. Move us off the jump point. Make sure you watch for those mines!” the Naga captain warned.

  “Course plotted. We have the safe zone course loaded,” the navigator reported.

  “On the ball, I like that,” the Naga hissed. “Good.” He turned to the Communications Department. “Warn the picket of incoming enemy ships.”

  “Tachyon transmission incoming, sir,” the ship's A.I. reported.

  The captain clacked his mandibles once. “Put it through.”

  He repeated his warning to the human captain once the connection was established.

  Captain Shenaka smiled politely, letting the Naga know something was up. “We know. You made good time, but the ansible is just a little faster,” Captain Shenaka of Ch'Lx'sinak drawled.

  “You … the ansible. Ah, of course,” the Naga captain said, clearly disappointed. All that work, all that risk in taking his ship into the low octaves of Delta for naught. He and his engineers were going to have some explaining to do with BUSHIPS the next time they got into port. They had put a lot more wear and tear on the engines and hyperdrive in trying to outrace the enemy.

  “Don't sound so down. Transmit your logs.”

  “Transmitting now,” Captain Ss'rt'th stated. He flicked a signal to his comm section to send the files. The section chief looked up and sent him an okay signal.

  Captain Shenaka nodded once the transmission was completed. “Four ships confirmed. Nice wor
k. Okay, get clear and run silent. I'm having my tactical people send you a location on where we want you to be. Welcome to the hunt.”

  “Thank you. It is a pleasure to be here,” the predator replied, perking up instantly.

  “Ah, I thought you'd like that.

  Chapter 54

  Nuevo

  It took four and a half weeks in the third octave of Delta band for the battle cruisers to get to Nuevo. Captain Astro was heartily glad he had a crack helm team with the two water dwellers riding shotgun. When they returned to the outer Federation and they left his ship, he'd miss them sorely.

  Once in the star system, Protector contacted the planets to arrange the visit. The local government was stunned by Admiral Irons’ arrival. They were a little put out over seeing the battle cruiser.

  Captain Astro listened as the communications officer dealt with the grounders. He was amused by the small but growing space station in orbit of one of the colonies. It was a modular thing, not much to look at, but it was something, a core they could build off of in time he knew. Apparently, they'd had Justica and Sweet Revenge deliver the components in exchange for trade goods from the planet. It was nice to see someone on the planet was forward thinking.

  His ears flicked and then oriented on Lieutenant JG Asuma Sito, the comm officer. He didn't turn his head though. Instead he sent a signal to the repeater panel built into the screens around him to feed him what the communications officer was seeing.

  “…We are an escort for Admiral Irons. We had a spot of trouble to deal with in Bek. It's settled now. But he is the president; he deserves protection.”

  “But you've gotten it completed since you are here?” the grounder asked, eyes wide.

  “Correct. Admiral Irons handled it beautifully.”

  “Ah. I see. I also see there is a story there,” the grounder replied. “And I see the governor's office is ready. Patching you through now.”

  The captain snorted softly and then cut the channel.

  :::{)(}:::

  Admiral Irons realized Protector was doing his best to try to schedule what could be done in the two days they would be on the planet. Every hour was wrangled over. Fortunately, he didn't need to sleep.

  For his part, Admiral Irons spent a lot of time going over the downloads from the Nuevo ansible. Once Antigua knew he was there safely, they swamped his inbox with material. It seemed like everything needed to be dealt with right now, right this minute.

  He did his best to grimly wade through it but blocked out at least two hours to learn what he could about the planets and people he was about to visit and another two to get what rest he could. He wouldn't have long on the shuttle to sleep, if at all.

  Something told him from Protector's continuously updated itinerary he was going to be running around like a chicken with its head cut off right up until he had to leave. Then he'd do it all over again on the next planet.

  :::{)(}:::

  Two days and twelve hours later the ship arrived in orbit over the first planet. Admiral Irons was met at the spaceport by an excited delegation complete with banners and bunting. A band played the Federation national anthem. From the sound of it, he knew it wasn't a song they had played recently. He waved anyway, not even wincing when they hit a couple of wrong notes. It was the attempt that mattered, and he was certain others would try to make sure they had a better product later.

  He noted the cameras. Most of them were from the ship. He made a mental note to have Protector pass the footage on to the media equally through Liobat when they got back to the capital.

  He fully expected the photo op that followed as he met and shook hands with the governor and his delegation. He was amused when a couple of the burly farmers tried to play a squeeze game on his right hand. Since it was artificial, they were surprised when he matched their grip strength and then went just a little better to make them gasp. “Impressive, Admiral. For a man with supposedly soft hands, you've got a lot of strength.”

  “I workout. I'm also known for getting my hands dirty as much as possible, usually tearing down equipment. And moving that equipment is a lot of heavy lifting,” he said as he let up.

  “I see,” his opponent grunted and then flashed a smile of amusement as they disengaged.

  :::{)(}:::

  Once the cameras were off and they were in relative privacy, Admiral Irons made certain to give Governor Tribeck and his Lieutenant Governor the civilian governor's key sets. Both of the civilian leaders had taken advantage of the various visits from the starships to get implants. They were basic implants, but Doctor Thornby had provided upgrade nanotech packages for them. The duo dutifully swallowed the pills down and chased them with a glass of wine.

  Admiral Irons was a little dismayed that a parade had been hastily arranged in his honor. Apparently, Governor Tribeck wanted to show him off to the planet.

  As they sat in the open vehicle, he checked Protector and the Marines, then leaned over to the governor. “I can't do this too much, governor. I don't have that kind of time I'm afraid. I am here a week. I also need to stop in at your sister world and pass on the keys there. There is transit time to get there too.”

  “Then why come at all?” the governor murmured as they waved politely to the crowd.

  “Because I was in the nexus. I don't know when I'll be back.”

  “Ah.”

  “A lot of businesses closed to be here,” the governor said, waving to a couple he recognized. “See them? They run a bakery,” he said.

  Admiral Irons turned to see a pair of Neochimps. One of them held up a cake with his image made out of frosting. He smiled politely and said thank you, but he was drowned out by the marching band behind him.

  “You people sure are lively,” he said in a lull.

  “I know. It's the weather. It's cool out. And yeah, I admit we don't do this often.”

  “That's because it is an election year, Admiral,” Protector said in the admiral's ears. “He's taking full advantage of your arrival, not that he had much competition.”

  “I see,” Admiral Irons murmured in amusement as he continued to wave.

  :::{)(}:::

  Major Burrows scanned the crowd, keenly eager for the horrid event to be over with. He rather regretted allowing the admiral out in the open in the damn open ground car. Protector had the admiral's sensors on high alert and his shields spun up but that didn't matter. It still took a full second or so for the shields to get up and to full strength. That was a lifetime when one considered the speed of a bullet, rail gun round, or laser.

  The natives had their own security out, but they were on crowd control. At least they were facing the right way, well, for the most part. He frowned at a couple hick sheriff deputies who were more interested in chatting than doing their job. And he scowled at one who was watching the parade instead of the crowd behind him. The guy was smart though; he was in the shade.

  It was going to be a long afternoon, the major grumbled internally as he checked the comm feeds and then went back to scanning his sector.

  :::{)(}:::

  One of the meetings he was keen on was the all too brief meeting with the senior staff of the army. They met at the spaceport since it would take too long for the admiral to transit to their base half a continent away. “I guess we're not going to get Pasha or Olivia back anytime soon?” Lieutenant General Anheuser asked as they shook hands again.

  They had met at the spaceport but had only a brief smile before Admiral Irons had been whisked off by the governor's staff. He was glad he was free to do a better assessment of the man and his staff.

  From what he could see, the general was a lifer, even though he was like every other person in uniform, a reservist. Some considered them playing soldier, right up until they needed their services.

  General Henrick Anheuser was stocky and graying. He had a weight lifter's build but the muscles were sagging a bit with age. He was starting to put on a little bit of a gut. He probably still worked out but not as much as he sho
uld. Age tended to do that.

  “I'm afraid not. Not unless you want to go out and meet them yourself. From what I've heard, General 1010111 has made himself at home on Agnosta,” Admiral Irons replied, smiling slightly.

  “Ah. General, eh? Brigadier? You spoiled him,” the other flag officer snorted.

  Admiral Irons paused thoughtfully for a half a second. He knew the other man knew about the promotion since Nuevo had an ansible and they were in regular contact. Most likely he'd been saving that for just this moment. He smiled slightly. “Something like that. I understand you've got some additional personnel for him?”

  “You mean to poach? Yeah, he called me. Fortunately, the new industrial tech you've sold us has freed up a lot of labor in the fields. And we appreciate the sensors and weapons to help with the graboid problem. They aren't licked, not by a long shot, but we've got the worms under control for the moment.”

  Admiral Irons nodded. “And the natural disasters?”

  “You can plan all you like for them, but they come when Mother Nature is in the mood,” the general replied with an indifferent shrug. Admiral Irons nodded sagely.

  “So, we've got basic implants courtesy of the previous ship visits. I take it you are here to distribute more implants and keys?” the general asked.

  Admiral Irons startled and then snorted at himself. Of course, the general knew that; it was on the itinerary. At least one of them was paying attention he thought. “Yes. I want to give you a basic briefing on what's going on. I take it you've been getting them from the ansible?”

  The staff and general nodded.

  “Good. I wanted to pick your brain on the garrisoning of so many worlds.”

  “We can do more than garrison, sir. I know traditionally we follow in the Marine's wake to mop up, but we can do much more. I know it was done before. We can do it with the right equipment and time to train,” a colonel stated.

 

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