Kelly Blake 3: Where the Stars Are Few and Far Between

by Rodney Smith

  After several hours, she had a firm enough plan to brief to Maxwell for approval and then call in the battalion S-3s and brief them. They made a few modifications that made for a better plan, then took the draft plan back to their commanders and staffs to start work on theirs. In a day, they had a pretty good plan for the conquest of their part of the K’Rang capital.

  * * * * *

  Tammy’s squadron quickly became known as the best trained in the wing. The wing commander even restricted Tammy’s use of the simulator, as he badgered the other squadron commanders to make better use of their pilots’ time than reviewing threat documents and hanging out in the club. He almost restricted the club, but was talked out of it.

  Tammy was called in to the wing commander’s office. Her pilots were all squeezed in his office and Tammy didn’t quite know what to think. Commander Tanaka pulled her into the center of the room.

  “Tammy, I have something to present to you. Chief Johnson, will you read the order?”

  “In accordance with Fleet Regulation 1001.2.3, Tammy Lynn Nielsen is authorized to assume the title and wear the uniform of a Fleet Commander. She is entitled to all the privileges of that grade except those restricted by law. Signed Franklyn J. Atwood, Rear Admiral, 6th Heavy Attack Division, Commanding.”

  Her squadron XO and Commander Tanaka removed the Lieutenant Commander shoulder boards from her epaulettes and replaced them with ones adorned with three full stripes. Tammy was flabbergasted. She had been frocked to Commander, an old tradition giving an officer all the responsibilities of a higher rank, but none of the pay. The entire room broke out in cheers and applause. She shook hands with all and then cut a cake decorated with Commander’s stripes.

  When the festivities died down and all the pilots and well-wishers had departed, Commander Tanaka (whose own frocking to Captain would take place the next day) sat her down at his conference table.

  “Tammy, now that the good news is out of the way, let me tell you that I have chosen yours to be lead squadron on our first attack mission. We’ve been tasked to attack the defensive facility on G’Durin’s largest moon. It has four of those damn big guns that Admiral Chang wants taken out first thing upon arrival. The carriers will take first crack at it with their A-76's, followed by heavy missiles from the cruiser squadrons. Then, if they don’t knock them out, it’s our turn with the hypervelocity missiles. Your squadron is best trained on these and our best chance to knock them out. If you don’t get them, they send in the special operations Marines to do a ground attack. So you see, it’s important for all of us to do our best.”

  “Thank you sir, for the promotion. My pilots will take out that damn facility and the gun emplacements, don’t worry.”

  * * * * *

  Kelly ran his third drill for the day and was very pleased. The last had been a damage control party drill to deal with a breach in the engine room hull. Lieutenant Commander Brown didn’t care for them tromping through his well-maintained engine room with their clumsy environment suits to notionally pound plugs into the hull to close the breach down, then sealing the remainder with a dome of hull sealant foam. He was impressed that they were able to get through all the steps in less time then called for in the manuals.

  So far the crew was reacting well and Kelly had little faith he could improve much on their duty performance. He scheduled one drill a day until they made contact or they reached K’Rang space. Connie had monitored the damage control drill and reported to him, “Sir, Lieutenant Commander Brown is not too happy with you right now, but he is ecstatic about the performance of the damage control party.”

  Kelly asked, “Why is he mad at me?”

  She replied, “The damage control party scuffed up his floor when they dragged some of the heavier kits through his space. He'd be even madder if he hadn’t been so impressed with their professionalism. I designated him a casualty and two of the smaller women picked him up and carried him from the compartment after the compartment was judged re-pressurized. He wants to put them both in for an award.”

  Kelly laughed and said, “Tell him to put in his recommendation. I’ll approve it.”

  * * * * *

  Alistair Bennett was next to call on Kelly. He came in, was offered a coffee and a seat, and Kelly asked what could he do for him.

  “Kelly, I’m not doing much good for you, am I?”

  Kelly realized that since they left orbit of the Angaerry Las Vegas world, he hadn’t had much need of Alistair’s knowledge and talents.

  He smiled and said, “Alistair, what are you trying to say?”

  “You have a pretty good handle on things going on here. I’d like to go somewhere I can be more useful. I’d like to join the Marines going into G’Durin. There are some K’Rang data files I’d love to rifle through.”

  Kelly saw the wisdom in that. In fact, he thought that a special team should be constituted to do just that.

  “Alistair, why don’t you take a stroll through the ring to Fleet Intel and propose that?”

  He smiled wryly and said, “Good idea, why didn’t I think of that? Thank you. I’ll get right on it.”

  Alistair’s idea was instantly approved and five reporting officers, five counterintelligence agents, ten computer specialists, and 30 K’Rang translators were assembled and put under Alistair’s control. Now he just had to find who had responsibility for the area he was interested in. He took another stroll through the ring.

  * * * * *

  Mary Chen was about to chew someone’s butt for standing in her light, when she looked up to see Alistair Bennett smiling down at her. She and Alistair had worked together in rescuing an industrialist’s wife from pirates, years back when she commanded a Marine Special Operations Company. Her Marines were enroute to conduct a forced entry rescue when Alistair told them to stand down, for he had already subdued their guard and staff and rescued them. She was angry with him for weeks, but respected his talents.

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in – Alistair Bennett. What brings you to my humble office?”

  Alistair laid out the plan to storm the K’Rang Intelligence HQ, seize their data files and transport them to Fleet HQ for analysis.

  Mary pointed out, “My brigade doesn’t have the Special Operations qualified company. That’s second brigade.”

  Alistair replied, “A SOC is not required – regular infantry will do just as well and I have faith in you.”

  She replied, “This will have to come down from division before we could start preparing for it.”

  Alistair pulled out his pocket terminal and showed her a document on the screen. She grabbed his hand and led him to see her brigade commander.

  * * * * *

  Captain Jason Thomas pulled alongside the command ship Montpelier and set the station-keeping program into effect. It would keep the Resurgent exactly 10,000 meters from the command ship automatically and reduce the need for a bridge crew to a couple of look outs and a chief of the watch. He rested his crew that had just executed a five light-year round trip cruise for nothing. He used the time for rest and diagnostic checks on the ring mechanism, both erecting and transport. His ship would be ready when the need for it arose.

  * * * * *

  J’Kol prepared a message to his family, telling them that if they received this message he was dead. He either died in combat or at the hands of the Empire. He told his children not to believe any stories they heard or saw in the press. He had always served the Empire and if it meant his death was needed to serve the Empire, so be it.

  He told his wife she had been his only mate and to know that he loved her from the first time he laid eyes on her until he drew his last breath. He asked her to be brave for the children’s sake and to show her pride and love for him. He laid out the strange circumstance of being relieved of command and directed to take his fastest ship and report to G’Durin at best possible speed. He knew not what was intended for him, but hoped it would all work out in the end. He closed by saying that Shadow Leader G’M
otta was his most trusted subordinate and that G’Motta would do everything in his power to see to her well being, if things did not go as he hoped. He closed with expressions of love for his family and support for the Empire.

  * * * * *

  Commanders from three races spread all over the inky black vastness of K’Rang space were doing the same thing – watching the ETA clock tick down and wondering if there was anything else they could do to be more prepared for the impending combat. Commanders and staffs worked and reworked plans to gain the slightest additional advantage over their adversaries, knowing that this would be the largest space battle ever in recorded history. Crewmen in fleets speaking K’Rang standard, Galactic Standard, and Angaerry, worried about the coming battle, tested and retested their equipment to ensure it was in top working order. Some laughed it off in a not too convincing attempt at bravado. Others got religion. Some just kept doing their jobs with a renewed sense of purpose.

  Spacemen Third Class and admirals felt the tension. Older petty officers and chiefs, having experienced the terrors and triumphs of battle in open space, tried to calm their subordinates and keep them focused on their jobs. Ships’ captains felt that cold gripping hand in their guts over the thought of not having done enough to keep their ships and crew alive. Drills increased exponentially and became more complex. Abandon ship drills became increasingly prevalent. The tension rose higher the more the clock ticked down. The three fleets pressed on relentlessly.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Baron J’Kol was approaching the point at which he directed the P’Tong captain to drop out of FTL, to scan for the Human fleet or scouts before approaching G’Durin. If they wanted him home to execute him, it would be bad form to disappoint them by being destroyed by a Human fleet.

  The captain reported no ships within 500,000,000km, which seemed strange to J’Kol. G’Durin required ships to bring in food and luxury items on a daily basis, to meet the needs of the nobility, their servants, and the few bureaucrats allowed on G’Durin.

  J’Kol made sure the captain gave the proper orbit code and they dashed into G’Durin’s orbit at 0.8c, stopping at the last second to avoid burn in. No hostile forces followed them in, so they assumed they were protected by the lunar emplacements and spiraled in for a landing at the main spaceport east of the city.

  There was no welcome party of stony-eyed Shadow Warriors, or a marching band, either. There was nothing. In fact, the spaceport was deserted. There was not another ship at the spaceport. It was thirty minutes before a ground car appeared and drove up toward the P’Tong. Shadow Leader G’Motta, in his dress uniform festooned with medals, stood next to J’Kol, as the car drove up to them and stopped. A petty functionary of the Elders, as could be told by the colors of his cape, got out of the car and headed their way.

  J’Kol whispered to G’Motta as the official approached, “No matter what happens, my friend, I will see that no harm or shame befalls you.”

  The P’Tong lifted off behind them, throwing up a tremendous cloud of leaves and other detritus. It left orbit and proceeded to a designated defensive patrol area outside the system.

  The official walked up and came to a rough approximation of attention typical of a civilian and said, “Baron J’Kol, welcome back to G’Durin. I am H’Tat, undersecretary to Baron N’Gana. He apologizes that he could not be here to greet you personally, but the Elders requested his presence, as we were leaving. Please come with me.”

  J’Kol climbed in the spacious back seat of the car. The driver attentively held the door for him and closed it behind him. G’Motta sat in front, next to the driver. J’Kol had seen G’Motta unobtrusively return his weapon to its holster under his cape as they got in. He was still unsure what to make of his mysterious orders and his summons to the Elders. A host of possibilities ran through his mind. The only one that came to mind was that he was being brought to take over the defense of G’Durin. That had to be it. No other explanation fit the situation.

  They drove down the main east-west avenue and passed through the main cemetery on into the government center. The driver drove him to the front door of the Palace of Empire, where Baron N’Gana and two Imperial Guards awaited him. The guards caused J’Kol a momentary stab of panic, until he was able to inwardly calm himself down and prepare to meet his fate. If it were to be his execution, he would face it as a Shadow Warrior, no matter how quick or slow his death.

  Baron N’Gana opened the door for him and the two guards came to a respectful attention, not the cold rigid attention of an execution party. J’Kol inwardly relaxed, pinning much hope on this slight difference, and climbed out of the ground car. Baron N’Gana welcomed him, apologizing for not meeting him, but he was unavoidably delayed.

  As his immaculate shining boots clicked across the marble tiles, J’Kol asked, “Baron N’Gana, I am somewhat in the dark as to why I have been summoned here. Can you enlighten me?”

  Baron N’Gana hesitated uneasily and answered, “Baron J’Kol, I am not at liberty to say. You will have an immediate audience with the Elders. I can assure you it is nothing negative.”

  J’Kol let his thoughts wander back to the G’Durin defensive mission and relaxed. As he walked along, he noticed mourning white ribbons and wondered who died. Before he could ask, he was brought to the portal of the Elders Audience Chamber, and immediately removed his weapons and handed them to G’Motta. It was time to learn his fate.

  He straightened his uniform, stood up to his full height, and marched into the Elders’ presence. He looked straight ahead and marched to the spot five steps from the bench and came to a halt, but there were no Elders behind the bench. In fact, he was alone in the room. He heard footfalls and Elders J’Gon and G’Tol came around the bench and walked up to him. Elder G’Tol removed his Shadow Warrior crimson cape.

  “Baron J’Kol, you will have no more need of this,” and G’Tol tossed it aside. Elder J’Gon helped him on with an azure robe reserved for the Elders.

  J’Kol stammered, “Distinguished Elders, what does this mean?”

  Elder J’Gon answered him, “It means you now join us, Elder J’Kol, as our junior Elder. Congratulations. During your absence from the capital, Elder J’Tona succumbed from the strains of his duties and your faction elected you to be their Elder.”

  J’Kol had to sit down and compose himself.

  “I am, of course, honored, but could you not have given me some indication of why I was being recalled? All sorts of bad scenarios have been running through my head. It made it a less than pleasant journey.”

  G’Tol laughed, but J’Gon kept a serious face.

  “Elder, how pleasant would your journey have been if the Humans intercepted our message and then intercepted you? No, we had to keep you in the dark, no matter how uncomfortable your journey.”

  Elder G’Tol said, “Elder J’Kol, we bring you into our council at a most dangerous time. The two Human fleets arrive here tomorrow evening, at the earliest. If they stand off to organize, they will be here day after tomorrow. We have no defenses beyond the lunar emplacements and they won’t last too long against the Human fleets. We will be transported to our cavern emergency site tomorrow morning and the Imperial Guard Regiment will occupy ground defense positions around it. It will hold out only as long as it remains undiscovered. Orbital bombardment ships would have no difficulty entombing us in it.”

  “We must make some immediate decisions. Wait while I call in Baron N’Gana and his scribe.”

  J’Kol said, “Have someone inform Shadow Leader G’Motta, my aide, that I am not to be shot, garroted, or hung from a hook. Please have him taken somewhere comfortable to wait to hear from me.”

  N’Gana and the lone scribe came in and took notes, while the reconstituted Elders decided on the defense of G’Durin.

  * * * * *

  The lead scout ships of the 1st and 2nd Combined Fleets arrived in the K’Rang home system just as the P’Tong reached its patrol position. The scouts noted its position and no other hos
tile ships in the system. In fact, with the exception of three scout ships from the 1st Scout Division, there were no other ships at all. Scout Force’s mission to attack commercial shipping was an unparalleled success in clearing shipping from K’Rang space.

  Two scout ships from 1st Scout Division stalked and killed the P’Tong, then slid off in the direction of the approaching Armada and Grand Armada to provide early warning. The Velocity transmitted an observation report to the 1st and 2nd Combined Fleets, knowing that even though the signal was not FTL, the two fleets would fly into the signal at FTL long before they arrived in system.

  Two fleet scouts probed in closer to the system, being careful to stay out of range of the lunar emplacements.

  * * * * *

  Kelly looked at his ETA countdown clock and saw 30 hours tick over. He saw a more serious attitude toward their duties by the entire crew. They knew they were about to be part of something historic and deadly, which tends to focus the mind. Kelly did his most important job, presenting a sense of calm, purpose, and assurance to the crew. Nothing destroyed a combat ship’s morale quicker than a fidgety, nervous commander.

  Kelly asked for and received permission to increase speed and arrive in the vicinity of the K’Rang home system six hours ahead of the Angaerry Fleet, to provide early warning of any K’Rang ships or defensive preparations. Jotil Lenkva gave permission and in heavily accented Galactic Standard said, “Good luck and good hunting.” She was learning.

  Kelly boosted to FTL power 5.5 to gain the six hours and left the Angaerry behind.

  * * * * *

  Alistair’s proposal went over well with the admiral and division commander, as soon as he tactfully showed them his letter from the Galactic Republic President, asking the military to provide any and all support possible to Mr. Bennett in a matter of great interest to the President and the head of the Republic Intelligence Agency. Once they determined it could be done, they put their best tactical minds at work to find the best way to do it.