by Chris Hechtl
“Agreed,” Moira stated. “Do you have a suggestion on how to pop the Senator's balloon however?”
“See what he wants. Is it overeager or a ploy? He tried to push meat distribution through his planet over a year ago. That turned out to be a bit of overreach. I did help him out there and smooth things over.”
“All right, we'll look into it. Nadine …,” Moira turned to her chief of staff.
“Feel the staff out? How low level?”
“Keep it mild.”
“Understood,” Nadine murmured, making a note. “We don't want this tripping up any budgets, right?”
“Correct,” Moira stated.
“If necessary you may need to break the military spending budget down into passable chunks. Not that I see many problems at the moment,” Sprite offered helpfully.
“Understood. Of course, it would be far easier if the admiral was around to explain the need for it all,” Nadine said pointedly.
“Believe me, I'm not at all crazy about his not being here anymore than you are, lady,” Sprite replied dryly. “But it wasn't up to me like it wasn't up to you. We all get to deal with it.”
“Agreed,” Moira interjected as Nadine began to open her mouth. She gave the other woman a look to quell the argument before it could begin. “Now, next problem …”
:::{)(}:::
Pyrax
Admiral Subert watched as the force jumped out. He had finally fulfilled his promise to ship out supplies as well as minor reinforcements to the Eastern Front and wolf packs. One light carrier, two escort carriers, a mixed CruRon, and a Desron might not seem like a lot, but it was a start. The real critical component were the supplies he was sending. Those colliers were faster than equivalent civilian shipping but would still hold the force's speed down.
Not all of the supplies were destined for the Eastern Front. A quarter of the supplies were supposed to go to the wolf packs operating in Sigma. They were supposed to meet up in Hinata in six months. He might have pushed his delay a little longer than he should have, he thought.
He grimaced as he considered the problem. Each wolf pack would need supports, and the supports would need their own escorts. They were watering down the wolf packs and her own command. They were also depriving the convoys of shipping. With wolf packs operating in Pi as well as Sigma plus the two fronts, the Tau mission, and the Ptah mission getting ready to kick off, he was of the firm opinion that the Admiralty was being pulled in too many directions at once.
He was also losing some good officers to the wolf packs and other sector missions. That sucked.
Once the wolf pack idea had hit the military grapevine, officers who had begun to jockey to get in on the Eastern Command or Second Fleet suddenly wanted to be in a wolf pack. They would have the ability to hunt the enemy ships while also showing their initiative since they would be in an independent command far from contact with the fleet. They would have to interact with planets and space colonies though.
It only got further complicated with the secretary involved. Since she was nominally in command, she knew about that part, and her office had started to “politely request” they hold off on contacting planets without State being involved. Well, that wasn't going to happen.
He knew that all of their planning was dependent on things going as they were. If Amadeus or V'r'z'll ran into problems and took loses, then things would change. That would most likely put low priority missions like the Ptah one on the back burner once more. He could live with that. But they couldn't do that with the wolf packs. Now that they were in play, they needed the support.
To date no prize ships had been sent back. He wasn't certain he wanted to see any; most of them would take almost as much resources to rebuild as building a similar ship from scratch. It would also deprive the wolf pack ships of their personnel for months or an entire year at a time. Not good.
John should have left orders to stockpile the ships or to just sun scuttle them. But he hadn't. He shook his head and made a note to bring it up sometime.
:::{)(}:::
B-95a3
Since they had an ansible in the star system, the reinforced picket force was not surprised by the arrival of the courier UFDV-010S coming in from Protodon.
The little ship transmitted her IFF but was surprised by a transmission. Captain Okonkwo frowned. “It looks like we were expected. Open it. Let's read it,” she said.
“Engines online,” Aden stated as the captain pursed her lips.
The A.I. put the file up for her to review on her own. She frowned and then keyed a channel. “You are telling me an enemy force is coming? So, why not let us pass so we'll be out of the way before the shooting happens?” she demanded.
“We don't know when that will happen. Just sit tight,” Captain Song replied a few minutes later.
“Really? I mean, we can nip across the star system real fast …”
“Just do as you are told,” the captain replied flatly, ending her suggestion. “We all have a role to play in this. I've decided you are going to have one too. I'm transmitting your orders now. I suggest you prerecord the transmissions. If you can't seem convincible, let me know, and I'll find someone on my end to play your role.”
“Understood,” the captain sighed, perplexed by the orders but more or less resigned to following them, as was her duty. “Well, someone break the deck of cards out. It looks like we're going to be stuck here a while.”
:::{)(}:::
Captain Bates was jittery when his ship jumped out of hyperspace at their planned exit point well away from the B-97a jump zone and the remains of the minefield that was situated there. He was even jitterier when his CIC reported only the sight of a platform and a single courier in the star system.
“Look, we can go in, destroy the platform, maybe sneak up on the courier …,” Captain Demsi suggested.
“She's sending out an IFF challenge. If we don't have the proper counter response, she'll run to Protodon,” Captain Bates said, cutting the other captain off.
“Okay, so, we can't do that.”
“Besides, if we go in to hit the platform and the other ship, we'll be using up fuel. We're going to need all the fuel we can get to get to a friendly port in Sigma,” Captain White stated. “We're going to be tight enough as it is just getting to the halfway point.”
“I thought we were going to hit Senka?” Captain Demsi demanded.
“Do you really want to jump into an enemy star system without any intelligence on it?” Captain Set demanded.
“You mean, like we're doing now?” Captain Bates drawled.
“Touché,” Captain Set replied mildly.
“Let's just get the hell out of here. This place is creeping me out,” Captain White growled. “It is too quiet. And I don't like being in a place where we got our asses kicked once already.”
“Agreed,” Captain Bates said. He turned to his navigator. “Do you have a course plotted?”
“Yes, sir. We're going to spend a lot of time on ballistic,” she warned.
“To conserve fuel no doubt. Do you have options in case of trouble plotted?” the XO asked. The navigator nodded. “Let me see,” he said. He took a moment to examine it and then looked up to the captain. “Looks good, Skipper. Just as you wanted.”
“Good. Feed the course to the helm and transmit it to the other ships.” He turned to the captain's channel.
“We heard,” Captain Set replied dryly.
:::{)(}:::
Captain Shenaka allowed himself a brief wintery smile as he looked at the plot. The enemy had obliged him by not dispatching recon drones and by taking a ballistic course through the star system. They even relied on a series of slingshots in order to conserve fuel.
The Admiralty had called it right; they were headed to the B-94e1 jump point. He had positioned his forces including the two light cruisers for a perfect intercept. It had taken days of running silent to get through to the ambush site. The courier had continued her role, transmitting IFF requests as
well as anxious calls. He reminded himself to congratulate the captain on a marvelous performance. At least she wasn't pitching a snit his way. He almost believed the note of anxiousness in her voice.
:::{)(}:::
The first warning they had of trouble was when the small craft began to launch. Instinctively, the four Horathian ships altered their course, but fresh small craft in smaller numbers appeared behind them and on their altered heading as well.
“We are so screwed,” a rating murmured, sitting back with wide eyes as the small ships came arrowing towards them.
“Sir? What do we do?” the XO asked anxiously.
“Incoming transmission. It's broadband,” a comm tech reported.
Captain Bates cleared his throat. He was still grappling with the trap they were in. He didn't see any way out of it. “Play it,” the captain said.
“Going somewhere?” was the dry, almost amused question.
He shook his head. “Apparently not,” he muttered. He looked over to his crew and then sighed. “All hands, abandon ship. I'm going to set the self-destruct.”
“Sir?!?” the XO asked. “Can't we run?”
“There is no point. There is some sort of carrier out there,” the captain said, waving a hand as the captain's link was established. “You heard me?”
“We are just giving up? Without a fight?”
“You want to shoot spitwads at them? Go ahead, be my guest. I'm going to get my people out alive. There is no point trying to fight that big of a force,” Captain Bates said with a shake of his head.
Captain Demsi looked ready to argue until a rating on his bridge reported bombers behind the first wave of fighters. Captain Bates heard his own CIC echo the report. “See?” he demanded.
“Damn it …”
“Make sure you destroy everything. I don't want anything falling into enemy hands,” Captain Bates growled.
“Other than our people?” the other captain asked bitterly.
“I hear POW camps are nice. They beat meeting the reapers any day,” Captain White said. “We weren't going to make it anyway. Trust me, I ran the numbers. Sending my crew to evacuate now,” he said. “Damn though.”
“We didn't stand a chance,” Captain Demsi muttered petulantly.
“We did our best. We may or may not have had an impact. Our part is over. Save what you can while you can,” Captain Bates stated. “That's an order. If you disobey it and try to fight, it's on you. I'll happily see you court-martialed for it.”
“Frack you. Fine, whatever,” Captain Demsi snarled as he cut the channel.
:::{)(}:::
Captain Shenaka scowled as reports flooded in of the enemy ships evacuating. He looked at the relay from the lead fighters of a dusting of pods, shuttles, and even personnel in rescue balls all over the battlespace. “A little early, aren't they? They aren't going to run?” he demanded. “Not even a little?”
“Apparently not, Skipper. They don't see the point,” the XO replied dryly. There was a bit of a grin of triumph in his voice.
“Well … damn,” the captain said mildly. “I guess we did our jobs a might too well,” he said in mock disgust.
That earned a surprised chuckle from the bridge watch.
“I guess we'll need to start thinking about prize crew's number one. Have the CAG hold off and keep an eye on …”
“Skipper! All four enemy ships have just exploded!” A CIC rating reported urgently.
“Damn. Well, I guess that was a little anticlimactic,” the captain muttered. “Get SAR out there on clean up. Comm, broadcast on the Horathian frequencies. Find someone in charge of that clusterfrack and get them coordinating with us. And someone let that courier know they can be on their way before they call and start nagging me,” the carrier captain said.
“Aye aye, sir,” the XO said as the flurry of orders went out.
Chapter 56
B-102c
The Admiral Butley made excellent time transporting them back to B-102c. The moment the ship came out of hyperspace and secured from jump, Admiral Irons called up the rebuilt ansible to download the latest reports.
He smiled mirthlessly at the lack of data for him to go through. Sprite had monopolized the device to send updates to him, but she had passed on missives from the reporters as well. She was still sending him data when he arrived. He broke in to let them know he was there and that they would visit Sargasso station and take on stores before they took on the rapids.
:::{)(}:::
“He's back!” Bailey announced to everyone in their quarters with a broad grin. “He did it!”
“He?” Galiet asked, disinterested as she watched the older kids setting the table.
“Admiral Irons,” Bailey explained patiently.
“That's nice, dear. Did you wash up?” she asked. “Dinner is almost ready.”
He was practically bouncing like a kid. She turned to him expectantly. He caught the look. She pursed her lips and then snapped her fingers. He made a show of slouching and then trudging to the head to wash up. He heard a snicker from one of the kids behind him.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral Creator of Things was almost reluctant to leave. He had come to enjoy his time on the station; getting reacquainted with his love of engineering had helped him immensely.
He knew he'd pestered the engineers with questions and such that he could have easily looked up on his own, but they'd weathered it beautifully. He'd also come back from the experience a bit humbled about Bekian technology.
He wondered briefly though about Admiral Irons and the Admiral Butley. He was fully aware that many of the other flag officers were jockeying to ride with the admiral. Others were trying to just get a ride on one of the other returning ships. He wasn't certain if they could supplant any of the army officers that the battle cruiser had picked up in Nuevo. Hopefully, though he wasn't at all certain. Admiral Irons hadn't been at all impressed with them, and he'd spent a lot of time to himself when they'd made the journey from Bek to the Sargasso star system.
Still, it didn't hurt to ask, the T'clock thought, wiggling his mandibles and antenna as he used his implants to make the request.
:::{)(}:::
Vice Admiral Pashenkov also noted the battle cruiser's return. He was grateful to see the admiral return. He was a bit put out that he would have to compete for a room on the ships again; such things weren't normally done at his exalted rank. He wanted to ride back with Admiral Irons, but his staff was suddenly unsure about that. He put a request in to Admiral Irons directly, but he was frustrated when the request was intercepted by the admiral's A.I.
“Yes, Admiral?” The A.I. asked.
“I'd like to speak with Admiral Irons, please.”
“He is currently indisposed, sir, and asked to not be disturbed. If you are asking about the cabin arrangements, I can assure you that you are on the list for Admiral Butley.”
The Neo admiral nodded. “Thank you. That is all I wanted to know.”
“Your A.I. could have given you the information, sir. I uploaded the file ten minutes ago.”
“Then why …?”
“You didn't ask,” his A.I. replied dully.
“Thank you, Commander Protector. It seems I need to get reacquainted with my staff,” the admiral replied through gritted teeth.
“Yes, sir. Have a good day, sir,” the A.I. replied as he closed the circuit.
:::{)(}:::
Captain Astro was grateful to be unloading some of the additional personnel on the station. He wasn't at all thrilled about taking on more Bekian brass. It seemed his ship was weighed down by brass these days.
The good news was that they hadn't quite burned through all of the fresh food they'd picked up in Nuevo, not quite yet. He made certain his quartermaster was on top of requisitioning more from the harbor station. He wasn't certain how long they'd be in port, so they'd better take advantage of it while they could.
Which was why he arranged for half of his engineers to get to work on a
ny exterior maintenance while they could do the work. They'd have to switch off to give everyone at least a half a day in port to relax, but soon the ride would be over. He knew everyone was looking forward to the accrued liberty elsewhere.
:::{)(}:::
Protector transmitted a message when the ship made arrangements to dock. He had orders to offload the low-ranking army personnel and somehow take on some of the flag officers. He worked with the ship's crew and A.I. to find places for them all. He had already handled Admiral Pashenkov but some of the other officers that Admiral Irons had expressed an interest in traveling with were just as prickly. He took the brunt of warning the passengers that they were limited on room and would have to double up.
He also sent a signal to Chief Bailey to let him know Admiral Irons was coming to see him and his family this time around. The chief's reply seemed startled but then excited. “We haven't gone shopping, so it's BYOB!” was tagged on a second note.
He made a request for a case of chilled beer to be delivered to the admiral's quarters before they left the ship.
:::{)(}:::
While they were docking, Admiral Irons noted a salvaged ship in a neighboring docking port about to be launched. “That was fast,” he said to Commander Lafleur after they exchanged salutes. He indicated the ship with a sweep of his hand after he struck his salute.
She turned to it in the view screen and then nodded as she turned back to him. “Yes, sir,” she said as the ship completed her undocking. Tugs moved in to help her maneuver clear of the station.
“Good work.”
“Yes, sir. It helps that we've got good people and the right tools to do the job,” she said, indicating Ilmarinen.
“She's still here?” the admiral asked, looking over to the ship.
“Yes, sir. I delayed her departure since her captain is under arrest, and I don't know about the loyalties of her remaining crew. We've shuffled them about. Some resigned, but the rest are either here or on that ship or one of the salvaged ships.”