Maxwell Saga 5: Stoke the Flames Higher

by Peter Grant

“Thank you, sir,” he began, but was rudely interrupted as Pickle’s crew broke ranks and swarmed around him. Hands grasped gently at him, despite his broken arm, and hoisted him to their shoulders. A roar went up, loud enough to buckle the bulkheads, as they cheered him to the echo. Grinning, Cavell’s officers dropped their salutes. They and the side party got out of the way, allowing the tumult to continue for what seemed like forever. Beyond his spacers, pressed against a bulkhead, he saw Solveig Soldahl recording everything on her vid camera, a beaming smile on her face.

  At last, after what seemed like an eternity, his crew let him down from their shoulders. He turned to Cavell’s Commanding Officer, his face red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, sir. I –”

  “You have nothing to apologize for, Commander. There are almost two thousand crew and medical personnel aboard this ship, and over four hundred patients. All of us know full well that, but for your courage, we’d be either dead, or wounded, or homeless right now. We had no defenses against those missiles at all, except for your sheer guts and determination. We’ll never forget that.”

  Steve gave up. “Thank you, sir. I’m afraid my crew and I lost everything aboard Pickle. Is there any possibility that we could beg, borrow or steal some uniforms from your Supply Officer?”

  “I’ve already arranged that. Fortunately, we’re well stocked. We can’t make a complete uniform issue – that’ll have to wait until you get back to Lancaster – but we’ll give everyone a Number Two uniform, plus a couple of sets of utility coveralls, underwear, toiletries and so on.”

  “That’s more than enough for now. Thank you, sir. Where will we be accommodated?”

  “You’ll all stay with us tonight. We don’t have enough vacant space in our crew quarters, but half our wards are empty, so your people can use them. Commodore Singh intends to send Mesquite back to Lancaster tomorrow, to carry the news of this attack and request urgent reinforcements. She’ll offload enough spares and supplies to keep the remaining patrol craft operational until she can return. Sadly, she has lots of empty compartments after the destruction of the other four patrol craft, so she’ll be able to accommodate your entire crew and the diplomatic mission. It’ll be a slow journey compared to your communications frigate, but you should be home soon after Christmas.”

  Steve exhaled with relief. “That’s good news, sir. Oh – is there any word on Major Shelby’s condition?”

  “I knew you’d ask, so I made inquiries before coming down here. He’s making slow but steady progress. You can talk to Captain Haines about him tonight. I’ve asked her to prepare a detailed report, for you to pass on to his family.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Does your arm need medical attention?”

  “Not anymore, sir. It was a straightforward closed fracture. The doctor aboard Mesquite administered a nerve block and reduced it right away, then put it in a cast. He says if I leave it alone, it’ll look after itself. He’s given me painkillers.”

  “That should do it, then. You’d better collect that chip folder from me before you leave. You’ll want to deliver it to Commodore Wu personally, I’m sure.”

  “Yes, please, sir.”

  “Commander Yilmaz will show you to your cabin in our visiting officers’ quarters, then we’ll see about issuing uniforms and the like. You and your crew have no duties at all aboard this ship, except to relax and enjoy yourselves. You’ve earned that the hard way!”

  —————

  ATHI – HEADQUARTERS, 24th MARINE EXPEDITIONARY BATTALION – 19:00

  Lieutenant-Colonel Neilson looked up as the roar of an assault shuttle’s reaction thrusters grew louder. He went outside in the gathering gloom, watching as it touched down on the landing site. Major-General Attenborough walked down its rear ramp.

  “Evening, Colonel,” he greeted the Marine officer as he approached, waving away his salute. “Relax. I just came to see how you and your people are doing.”

  “They’re pretty tired, sir, but very, very happy that the day went so well.”

  “It did, didn’t it? Only seventeen Kotai craft made it through the orbital patrols, and we nailed fifteen of them on the way down. Two reached the planet, but both were destroyed on their landing grounds. The Kotai smuggled in two thousand troops two months ago, plus four thousand more aboard that ship – and they’ve got precisely fifty-five survivors left to show for it, all of them our prisoners. I’ve never heard of a more crushing defeat.” There was satisfaction in the General’s voice, despite his obvious fatigue.

  “Yes, sir. I’m very sorry our forces had to pay so heavy a price, though.”

  “We did, but that’s the nature of the beast. We weren’t equipped or properly deployed to deal with an offensive like this, and our space forces weren’t expecting an attack from enemy warships. This was supposed to be a counter-insurgency mission. Devakai – or, rather, Kodan Sastagan – chose to turn it into conventional warfare. I suspect he’s going to regret that very sincerely before long.”

  “I certainly hope he does, sir. I hope he rues the day he was born!”

  “I think we may be able to arrange that. Oh - your Major Shelby is doing better. I called the hospital ship to check on the progress of all our wounded, and they tell me he’s likely to make it.”

  “That’s great news! Thank you, sir. What about Lieutenant-Commander Maxwell?”

  “Astonishingly, he survived with relatively light injuries, even though his ship was reduced to scrap metal around him. He must be the luckiest man in space! I think he has a hell of a future ahead of him, if he can avoid getting killed by another rush of blood to the head like that!”

  They laughed softly together.

  —————

  ATHI ORBIT – ORBITAL CONTROL CENTER – 23:40

  Commodore Singh peered through red-rimmed, itching, aching, tired eyes at the text that seemed to shimmer in the display unit. He read through his report one last time, pressed his thumb against the fingerprint reader to digitally sign it, and dispatched it to the address list. It would be automatically queued for delivery to the ships that would take his report to Bihar and Lancaster tomorrow. From there, it would be forwarded to the United Planets on Neue Helvetica.

  He sat back and stretched, extending his arms as wide as he could and sucking in a deep breath. It had been the longest, most exhausting two-day stretch on duty he could ever recall… but it had been crowned with ultimate success. That made all the hard work worthwhile.

  He shook his head as he thought of the casualties. Over five hundred United Planets and Athi personnel had died, in space and on the planet, to stop the Kotai invaders. Another five-hundred-plus had been injured. The planetary government was already talking about a monument to commemorate what it was calling the ‘Battle of Athi’. He supposed there’d be a big inauguration ceremony in due course… but the dead wouldn’t be there to enjoy it. They never were.

  It could have been much, much worse, of course. If those missiles had found the hospital ship… he shuddered in his chair. That would have been a nightmare! Thank Vishnu for that Lancastrian officer’s courage in decoying them away, at the cost of his own ship, and nearly of his own life.

  He rose to his feet, looking around the Operations Center. Orbcon was once again operating at its normal tempo, with a four-person watch on duty and nothing out of the ordinary to report. He smiled, turned, and headed for the door, stumbling a little in his weariness. He could almost hear his bed calling his name.

  December 28, 2851 GSC

  Steve was waiting in the docking bay lobby with Captain Macgregor, commanding officer of LCS Mesquite, as the light turned green above an airlock. They came to attention as an officer stepped inside. His uniform bore the one-star insignia of a Commodore. He saluted the Commonwealth flag on the bulkhead, then returned their salutes.

  “Good morning, gentlemen.” Commodore Wu shook their hands. His piercing gaze ran over Steve from head to toe. “You didn’t bring back my ship, but at least you broug
ht back all her crew, and saved a hospital ship to boot. Thank you very much for both!”

  “I’m sorry I couldn’t bring Pickle back as well, sir.”

  “Some things can’t be helped. You’ll have to stand trial over her loss, of course, but that’s a mere formality. I’m trying to arrange that for early February. We already know what the verdict will be.”

  “I hope so, sir.” Steve knew he sounded dubious. He’d never been court-martialed before.

  “Don’t worry.” Wu turned to Captain Halliwell. “Thanks for bringing Pickle’s crew back.”

  “I was glad to help, sir.”

  “Cutters will arrive to collect them shortly. I’ve arranged for them to be processed through the Transient Barracks at Fleet Orbital Command.” He looked at Steve. “They’re all going on thirty days’ survivor’s leave, plus travel time for those living off-planet. When they get back, we’ll see about new assignments for them. You’ll get the same leave, of course, after we wrap up a few loose ends.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “I’ll take him off your hands now, Captain. Thank you again for everything you’ve done for my people.”

  “My pleasure, sir.”

  Steve picked up the small carryall that was his only luggage, and followed the Commodore through the airlock into his comfortably equipped eight-seat gig. A senior NCO sat at the pilot’s console.

  “This is Chief Petty Officer Mallard,” Wu introduced him. “Take us planetside, please, Chief. I’ll close the privacy screen while I debrief Lieutenant-Commander Maxwell.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “You’ll go through customs and immigration when we get down,” Wu said as he pressed a button on the arm of his upholstered armchair. A folding plasglass partition slid out from the two walls, its joints plasrubber-sealed, closing off the passenger compartment and ensuring that their conversation would be private. “Having lost everything aboard Pickle, I doubt you’ll have enough gear to have any trouble with them. You and your ship’s company will get a full new issue of uniforms, of course, since your previous issue was lost in combat.”

  “That’s good to know. Thank you, sir.” Steve took a chip folder from his carryall and handed it to his boss. “That contains Fleet-certified backup copies of everything we learned on Devakai, including all our raw data recordings, and every report I wrote from the start of this mission until we were en route to Athi after leaving Devakai. I’ve added a complete account of what happened to us there, including vid shot by that reporter, Solveig Soldahl. It’s very comprehensive, sir. If the Devakai authorities make any rude noises about us, this should deal with them.”

  “Oh, well done!” Wu’s face showed both surprise and pleasure as he accepted it. “I thought all that material had been lost with Pickle.”

  “The original material was, sir, but I left this with the Commanding Officer of LCHS Edith Cavell the day before the fight, just in case. I retrieved it before we left Athi to return here.”

  “Excellent! I’ve read the report you transmitted when Mesquite arrived at our system boundary. For once, having you aboard a slower ship was actually useful! In the day between receiving it, and your arrival, I’ve had time to make preliminary arrangements to deal with the most pressing issues. I’ve already had Marine Corps HQ notify Major Shelby’s wife about his injuries. As soon as they’d done that, I visited her personally, and assured her that he’s going to be all right, even though it’ll take a couple of years of surgery and therapy to restore him to full health. She’s not happy about it, of course, but she’s very grateful to you for bringing back that report from Captain Haines. She discussed it with your wife, who I understand is going to graduate from medical school shortly.”

  “Yes, sir. As soon as she’s completed her internship, she’s going to specialize in pediatric medicine.”

  “Good for her! She reassured the Major’s wife that the report made sense, and he really is going to be OK, given time. They both said to tell you that they can’t wait to see you and hear all about it. Your wife also said, and I quote, ‘Ask him what the hell he was thinking to risk his life like that, and tell him not to do it again!’ I promised her I would.” They both laughed.

  “Thank you, sir.”

  “Next, you nominated Peter Gallegros for the Lancastrian Cross of Valor. I agree with you, of course. That’s precisely the sort of heroism that the Valor awards, Cross or Star, are intended to recognize. I’ve endorsed your nomination, and forwarded it to the Board of Admiralty. However, the Department of State isn’t so happy. Marisela Bonaventura sent her initial report to them from the system boundary as well. A little bird tells me that some senior officials there are already making unhappy noises about how Mr. Gallegros’ actions didn’t conform to State Department regulations. They may use that as an excuse to deny him any recognition or award for his heroism.”

  Steve made a disgusted sound in the back of his throat. “My response to that is basically unprintable, sir! If he hadn’t acted as he did, we’d all have died.”

  “I understand. We’ll have to see if we can overcome State’s objections. Frankly, I suspect that this Anthony Beauvoir, whom you mentioned in your report, may have something to do with them. I daresay Ms. Bonaventura also sent him a message, to warn about what happened between you. I won’t be surprised if he’s already marshalling his defenses. One of them may be to divert attention from himself by pointing fingers at others, probably including you as well as Mr. Gallegros.”

  “I think I can deal with that, sir. After all, we have the evidence on those chips.”

  “Yes.” Wu scratched his chin. “That may be a problem.”

  Steve frowned. “How, sir? We’ve got them cold!”

  “Yes, but we don’t have the original Devakai recordings anymore. They were lost with Pickle. I know these are fleet-certified copies, but State may raise objections and make insinuations about that.” He held up his hand to forestall Steve’s objections. “I know truth-tester examination of the principals will confirm them, but what if State refuses to allow that, pleading protection of state secrets? It’s a very complex can of worms. The final decision will be taken far above our pay grade. It may come down to a choice between taking this all the way, up to and including prosecuting Ms. Bonaventura and Mr. Beauvoir, but at the cost of a major breakdown in relations between the Departments of State and Defense; or letting things slide, to avoid that breakdown.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, but I’ll have a very difficult time accepting that.” Steve’s voice was blunt, uncompromising. “There’s malfeasance of office and abuse of power on Mr. Beauvoir’s part, just for a start – and what about Ms. Bonaventura violating Fleet regulations and security practices? If we let her get away with that, what’s to stop any other passengers aboard our ships doing the same thing?”

  “I agree; but if the top brass decide they’d rather let it drop, and you pursue it, you’ll be cutting off your nose to spite your face. You may get them convicted, but your career will be ruined.”

  Steve sighed. “I suppose so, sir. I guess I’d better wait and see what happens. One thing, though, sir. There were some hints at Athi about recommending me for an award. I won’t accept anything of a higher grade than whatever is awarded to Peter Gallegros. If he gets nothing, I’ll refuse any award for myself. Anything else would be an insult to his memory.”

  Wu regarded him narrowly. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, sir, I do.”

  His boss sighed. “I was afraid of that. All right, your concern is noted. Leave it at that for now.”

  “Aye aye, sir. There’s another potential issue, sir. You’ve read my report about why I wasn’t able to put Ms. Soldahl off the ship at Athi, as you instructed?”

  “Yes. I don’t blame you for that, of course, since OrbCon refused to accept her.”

  “Thank you, sir. She was involved in this scheme of Ms. Bonaventura’s and Mr. Beauvoir’s, but she seems to have had a real conversion experi
ence, if you can call it that, after what we experienced on Devakai. She apologized to me, very sincerely. I believed her – so much so that I allowed her to edit the vid she shot of our escape, to produce a news report showing how Mr. Gallegros died. I hope it’ll support my nomination of him for an award.

  “I know she also got vid of our return journey to Athi, and much of what happened there. She interviewed a number of my crew aboard the hospital ship, and also some of the wounded Marines who witnessed Major Shelby’s last fight. I think she even spoke with some people planetside, via satellite hookup. I suspect she’s planning a much bigger report than she was at first. It may even turn into a series of reports, or a longer documentary. I don’t know the details.

  “At any rate, sir, if she’s willing to cooperate with us, her report might help to offset the damage to the Fleet’s reputation that’s sure to follow our losses at Athi. It might even be worth giving her exemption from prosecution, if she helps us. That might also lead her to tell us more of what she knows about whatever’s been going on at State.”

  The Commodore looked thoughtful. “You make a good case. I wonder if she’ll give us a preview of her report or documentary, before it’s broadcast?”

  “I suspect she might, if she’s asked politely, sir, and provided there’s no threat of censorship or anything like that. I’m willing to suggest it to her informally, if you like.”

  “Do that. If she agrees, let me know, and I’ll take it from there.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Now, let me give you some news from my side. You’ve caused us a rare headache by losing Pickle. I’m not blaming you, of course; but if you recall, we dry-leased her from a private company on another planet for a three-year term. We installed all our special equipment, then put you in command for a two-year commission, after which we’d have stripped out everything we’d put aboard, then returned her to her owners. We can’t do that now. They have no idea it was BuIntel who chartered her – we used a front company for the transaction. That means we now have to fake her loss. She’ll probably ‘fail to arrive at her destination’, or something suitably mysterious like that. We’ll then pay her value to her owners as if it came from a commercial insurer. It’s going to take a lot of organizing to look convincing.”