The Gathering Storm

by Chris Hechtl

“Apples and oranges, ma'am. You took just over a month, but you were traveling in a freighter at a much-reduced speed. They are traveling in the high octaves of Epsilon band.”

  “Ah.”

  “Admiral Irons is downloading the files now and uploading files for us. He's signed off on every decision you've made so far.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I knew he had faith in you, ma'am. He wouldn't second-guess you.”

  “Thanks,” Moira replied in an amused tone of voice.

  :::{)(}:::

  Triang

  “We're ready,” the captain stated. Admiral Irons nodded as the ship's hyperdrive began to recharge. Within moments the field began to reform and the tachyon transmission to the ansible was cut off.

  He didn't expect to get much. He was therefore not disappointed. They'd get another shot when they came out of hyper on the other side of the skip, but only a brief time before they oriented and then went into hyper for the next leg of their journey.

  Ah well. At least he could go over what they had sent and upload his comments and orders when they came out, he thought.

  :::{)(}:::

  “What the hell? Is that ship a test, ma'am?” the sensor tech asked, turning to Captain Bevel.

  “I don't know. I don't want to know; it's classified.”

  “But, but, based on their projected course they aren't going back to the capital, ma'am. I don't get it.”

  “Ours is apparently not to know why PO. Just do your job.”

  “Aye aye, ma'am,” the petty officer replied dubiously as she turned and logged what she was seeing.

  :::{)(}:::

  “What a rush!” Coral said as the little ship jumped once more. This time they went through the usual turbulence, but it continued. It was like surfing a wave the Selkie thought before high order thought was lost in the heat of the moment. She needed all of her attention to surf the ship safely through the grav shadows and along the way points navigation had put up.

  :::{)(}:::

  “In again, out again, Finnegan!” the PO said, abruptly cutting off Amber's reading of her daily report. She looked up with a frown.

  “Come again, Sensors?”

  “That ship, ma'am. They just appeared near the Briev jump point.”

  “They skipped,” the captain said as she rose from her chair and came over to look over the tech's shoulder at the plot. The tech looked up to her and then pointed from point A to point B. “Nice flying,” she murmured in appreciation.

  “Yes, ma'am. They shaved a couple days off their journey. A lot of fancy footwork there. I bet they've got a crack crew.”

  “Yeah,” the captain murmured.

  “The ansible is receiving a tachyon signal from that ship again, ma'am. Whoever is transmitting is monopolizing its bandwidth again,” the communications tech reported.

  “Understood. Don't log that. Just watch.”

  “Aye aye, ma'am.”

  :::{)(}:::

  Antigua

  “The skip was successful. They are transmitting again. I sent a congratulations message,” Captain Sprite reported.

  “Understood. Can you not interrupt me when I'm busy, Captain?” Moira asked with the fork halfway to her mouth.

  “Or at least knock? Sorry, ma'am.”

  “Bad habit?”

  “An impish thing. I'm writing a script to knock first.”

  “Good. You do that,” Moira replied as she gently blew on her pasta and then took a bite. “If there is nothing else, scram. Go chew on your own bytes,” she said.

  “Cute,” Sprite replied with her version of a chuckle as she retreated once more.

  :::{)(}:::

  Triang

  “And, they are gone again,” the sensor tech said with a shake of his head.

  “Log it,” the captain said, clearly disinterested.

  “That was fun. What do they do for an encore?” the tech said as he followed the order.

  “I don't know. Watch the stars burn and ships pass by and count our blessings.”

  “I wonder if we can do that?” another tech asked.

  “Not without a lot of Lady Luck's blessing. Given our current posting, I don't put a lot of faith there,” another tech muttered.

  “I heard that. Back to your posts,” the captain growled.

  :::{)(}:::

  Once they were back in hyperspace again, the courier settled back into its routine. Engineering ran a thorough check of the ship's systems to make sure everything was running as expected. They hadn't had much time in real space to do other checks, and there was a bit of grumbling about that.

  Three of the four water dweller helm team talked during their time off. Rish should be sleeping, but in their quarters, it was hard to do when the others had energy to burn. Coral wished they'd get in the swim tube and swim against the current but Rish hated the claustrophobic thing even with VR glasses on. She couldn't blame him; they all tended to hit the walls with the VR glasses on. She'd bruised herself several times. Instead he splashed about in the tiny tub.

  “I wonder what the big hurry is?” Rish asked, doing his best not to splash too much. The water was recycled but anything that landed outside the tube had to be mopped up if it missed the drains. That was a pain in the posterior. They already had been dinged by the XO for water stains. They didn't need or want mold issues in their compartment.

  “No idea,” Coral muttered tiredly. That skip had taken a lot out of her.

  “They don't tell us anything. Just go here, do this,” Rish complained. Jamie opened one eye, turned it on him and then closed it wearily.

  “I do know something,” Rish said after a moment.

  “Oh? Are you going to tell us?” Coral asked, knowing the game he was playing.

  Rish snorted and wiggled his whiskers. Coral glared until he ducked under the water. When he came back up, he blew and then shook himself, spraying the compartment with water.

  “Okay, now that you've gotten that out of your system, give,” Jamie said dryly, looking up with interest.

  “We're going to offload with the admiral in B101a1,” Rish replied.

  “Oh? This is the first I've heard of it,” Jamie said dubiously as she looked over to Coral for support. The other Selkie shrugged as if to say it was the first she'd heard such a thing. Which was true.

  “I just heard. The skipper wasn't happy about it. I don't know much more beyond that.”

  “If we're getting off, then we're not taking this ship in hyper through the rapids. But Federation One gets to sit in that system until we get back.”

  “Crap. It means we're taking another ship!” Coral said as connections were made. They turned to her. “Think about it. If he needs us still, we are going through the rapids. That means Bek.”

  “Frack,” Jamie muttered. She nodded, fins subdued.

  “Remember that business about Admiral Logan? The scuttlebutt about him going back to Bek? I bet if that is what is going on, then that's why all the rush. Something happened. Something bad given the mad rush. Remember that line about stuff going on with the ansible a few days before we left? The orders to get ready came right around that time?”

  “Frack they did,” Coral said, sucking in a breath and then blowing out a raspberry.

  “Can we handle the rapids?” Jamie asked dubiously, clearly unsure about the idea.

  “It looks like we won't have much choice. I'll try to pin someone down to level with us.”

  “Maybe they don't want us to worry?” Rish asked.

  “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Too late,” Coral said as she closed her eyes and did her best to sleep. She was surprised when Rish quieted down and Morpheus finally claimed her.

  Chapter 26

  The bridge crew of Shirlanka was not surprised when a sparkle of energy alerted them to the arrival of Second Fleet in the B-97a star system. Far from it, the arrival had been anticipated for some time. Some on the crew thought it was well past time they got back on the offense.


  Once the fleet cleared from their own hyperspace wake, fighters launched to cover the fleet while they settled into sublight space and probed the space around them. Shirlanka dutifully sent out an IFF ping and then made a rendezvous with the fleet. Along the way a whisker laser was sent out with the updated log.

  “Captain, I imagine you are glad we're here, no more picket duty,” Admiral White said.

  “Yes, sir. No sign of the enemy. It looks like we chased them off and they were too scared to return,” the captain said in a gosh that sucks tone of voice.

  “Good. You can retire to the fleet train to resupply,” Amadeus said as he noted they were receiving Shirlanka's updated log.

  “What about the next stop, sir?” Captain Norman Litchi asked hopefully.

  “We're going to send Augusta and Whodiddy with UFN-003P to go take a look. That way everyone gets some experience,” the admiral stated.

  “Ah. Yes, sir,” the captain replied, clearly eager but disappointed.

  “Don't worry, you'll get another shot,” Amadeus replied with a nod.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Even as they spoke the two light cruisers and prowler had broken ranks from the fleet and were on their way to the next jump point. It would be several days before they jumped.

  :::{)(}:::

  Captain Junior Valdez watched his bridge crew settle the ship into her normal sublight routine. Life on Argus was different, especially for him in the captain's chair. He was so used to being a pilot, and later, a commander of pilots. He'd been forced to train himself not to interfere with Commander Beakly, the Chimera CAG.

  Not that they didn't get along, it was just hard for him to keep his hands out of the cookie jar. Which was why the wing knew he could be relied on to play the OP force in any fighter combat. His yeoman V'z'k'll, Commander McGrubber, his XO, and the junior staff had more or less been resigned to handling a larger share of the ship's paperwork than expected.

  Which made him consider what to do next as he stared at the log. The scouts had confirmed the enemy wasn't in the system. They were still doing their own picket and recon just to keep in practice, but he knew his people on both sides of the aisle would get stale fast without something to do. Which was why he was considering pitching another training exercise.

  Commander Beakly had the wing trained for a variety of scenarios. He knew that the commander was keen for the wing to earn their spurs taking down a capital ship. No carrier wing had yet to prove themselves in that way. That was one reason the CAG had focused on joint exercises as much as possible. The fighter jocks—his mental thought train stopped for a moment as a smile quivered on his lips for a moment. They loved the one on one sim action or the real-world exercises.

  Yeah, a couple simulated shipping strikes would be nice he thought. He'd come up with a couple new wrinkles to spring on the wing. He made a note to bring it up with the commodore the next time they crossed paths.

  :::{)(}:::

  Within a day of the fleet's arrival, Renee and Commodore Harris had begun to agitate for a series of hard-hitting training exercises since the star system was clear of the enemy and secure. Admiral White was reluctant to train so close to the enemy however. He didn't want to have his fleet divided up and caught off guard.

  “I think we can do computer sims easily enough,” Amadeus stated. Garfield's ears flattened. “I know they aren't nearly as good as the real thing. But I don't like the idea of splitting our force,” the vice admiral said stubbornly.

  “We could split off a single destroyer or cruiser force to play OP force. Keep the rest of the fleet together and simulate the enemy that way, sir,” Garfield suggested.

  The admiral frowned thoughtfully as if considering that option.

  “We're training internally but I know the pilots need seat time, sir,” Trajan stated from his seat. His hologram looked around the table and then settled on the admiral.

  “Did you spring that surprise on them yet?” Garfield asked, black and white ears flicking to the commodore.

  “One of them. I know that Commander Beakly and many of the other CAGS want to try a full-on exercise with Bismark and the battle cruisers. I think it would be good for both sides to see it go down. The gung-ho pilots need their balloons popped a little,” Trajan said. The small avatar of the CAG nodded.

  “As long as they don't get too spooked by the experience. I want to temper their metal, not break it,” the CAG stated.

  “I think making Bismark's crew aware of their own shortcomings might be a good idea,” Dwight said hopefully. He had come to appreciate the use of fighters and bombers after being shown up in a couple of the cruiser level exercises. In large enough numbers, the small ships were devastating against a fleet, much like a swarm of bees.

  “A bit of friendly competition is also a good idea, sir. Especially if we're going to be here a while,” Commander Ch'v'tt suggested.

  “We're not,” Amadeus rumbled, surprising them. All eyes turned to him expectantly. “As soon as we get word back from Augusta we're going to move on to the next star system and set up shop there.” The staff blinked at him in surprise. He smiled briefly. “Don't act so surprised. I want us to move in and take Dead Drop before the enemy reinforces. We've already delayed far longer than I'd wanted to. If we don't move soon, it might become too late and a lot more expensive to take that real estate.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “So, expending fuel and flight clock time on our hardware could be an issue,” Commodore Harris said grudgingly. “Back to sims,” he said.

  “We can turn the tin cans and some of the cruisers loose to play OP force too. But we'll do that last. Dwight, Trajan, go ahead with the computer sims and basic training.”

  “That includes gunnery exercises, sir?”

  “Yes. We don't have a handy asteroid to fire on though. Tell your people to play nice.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Loser buys the beer,” Garfield said with a grin.

  “I did say nice,” Amadeus said with a resigned shake of his head.

  :::{)(}:::

  Tired of paperwork and in dire need of seeing more than his four walls and to stretch his legs, Trajan decided to make the rounds in the ship.

  By chance he decided to explore areas he normally didn't see. He usually stuck to the common areas, but he wanted to explore. It would normally be easy to get lost in the vast fleet carrier; however, every person had implants with a map. If they somehow didn't orient right, they could always call out to the ship's A.I. or ask a crew member in the area. Of course if they did either of those, they'd be laughed at by the crew later.

  He was surprised when he realized he was in the weapon magazines of the ship. He decided against his better judgment to stop in to check on the things. The door was open against regulations. He frowned and noted a tech sitting with a paint brush and a can of paint across from the door. He could see another tech on the other side doing something else. “Got any red?” a tech asked. Curious Trajan went over and took a look.

  The tech with the yellow paint brush saw the commodore come into the compartment and shot to his feet. “Commodore on the deck!” she said, going to attention, then hastily setting the paint brush down. “Sorry, sir,” she mumbled as other techs looked over and popped to attention.

  “At ease. For the record, I know you are all busy. I don't stand on ceremony, especially when you have dangerous and critical work in front of you or at least you normally do,” he said, looking around the tech to see the torpedo on the rack behind her.

  “Does the commodore want to try his hand at a couple messages?” the PO in charge of the work party said just as Trajan caught on.

  He snorted. Each of the torpedoes was marked with a slogan on them. Some were paintings, others just words. “You'll get a bang out of this, I don't want to bomb the galaxy just Horath, To Emperor Ramichov with love. Stick it where the sun doesn’t shine, we will rock you.” Stuff like that.

  Some of the more colorful were amus
ing, but some that got downright obscene made the commodore reconsider looking the other way. He put a quiet word with the PO to tone it down.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Where did you get the idea?”

  “Oh, Conman is a history buff. He read about something called the Doolittle Raid. He even had a movie about it. He showed us some of the nose art on some of the craft and pointed out we could do the same here.”

  “Ah,” Trajan said.

  “We've got all of our assignments completed, sir. This is sort of a reward.”

  “Right,” Trajan drawled. “Carry on. Make sure they are good ones but keep it down. Some of that might be seen on the news.”

  “Will do, sir,” the PO replied with a dutiful nod.

  “Bang for the buck,” he said as he left with a slight smile. That earned a couple exchanged smiles from the work party in the compartment. “And close this hatch. You know the regs,” he said, doing it for them. The torpedoes might be inert without their detonators and antimatter but he didn't care. Regs were regs for a reason.

  :::{)(}:::

  B-97c

  The Arboth class destroyer Widow's Playmate and her courier consort arrived in the empty star system on the outer edge of the jump point. Both ships were very wary of enemy ships. It took them several hours to settle down and realize that there were no other ships in the area. That was the good and bad news.

  The crews did their best to settle into what was a boring but necessary routine of warily watching the star system. They had to be ever on guard of an intruder. Captain Connor Varbossa didn't envy the crew of the courier; they were trapped in a far smaller ship with little to do other than routine maintenance. Both ships did their best to remain dark, but a whisker laser ran between them so they could keep up-to-date.

  He hated the assignment, but he knew how important it was. A Varbossa did their duty. He might be a poor distant relation, but his last name was still the same and he intended to live up to his family's reputation of duty and diligence.

  Even if it was a boring assignment.