Hawk Genesis: War (Flight of the Hawk)

by Robert Little

  Speaking of the people of Fujian, John’s Marines had not found one single trace of any nuclear devices, nor did they locate the site or sites where they could have been fabricated. Based on this lack of information, it now appeared that the material came from this system, but the warheads had been constructed elsewhere.

  John came onto the bridge and looked at the plot. He said, “Give me a breakdown of the ships in that convoy.” The OoD said, “Sir, four troop ships, two destroyers.” John asked, “Assuming their destination is Fujian orbit, what’s their expected arrival time?” She said, “Seventy one hours, with a ten hour margin of error, sir.”

  “Have you been contacted?” Lieutenant Deen said, “No sir.” John thought about the unusual silence. Smiling slightly, he asked, “Have we determined that these are actually federal ships?” She answered, a little stiffly, “Their IFF’s responded with the proper code.” John nodded, and called an outlying carriers CAG. He asked that a flight of light fighters make a flyby.

  He went down to sickbay, where his brother was recuperating from a severe concussion and a multitude of body bruises, and making life a little difficult for the corpsmen. While he was sitting with his brother, the convoy checked in.

  Chapter 33

  Three days later, the federal troopships Condor, Amilie and Renaud, plus the freighter Stamper settled into orbit. Their escorts were boosting under high acceleration toward the system periphery.

  The Adams finally received a call from the Condor. The audio only call was transferred to John’s cabin. “This is General Chamberlin. I require transportation for my troops.”

  After the briefest of pauses, John said, “General Chamberlin, we were not informed that you lacked the ability to land your troops.” John’s father replied, speaking concisely, “I was assured by your admiralty that the navy would provide transportation.”

  John said, “General, this is a combat command. Fujian will have the resources that you need.” His father, who hadn’t directly spoken to John since well before his marriage, said, “Contact me personally when you have made arrangements.” John gritted his teeth, and said, “If you’ll pass your requirements to my OoD, we’ll assist.” The general cut the comm link. He hadn’t asked a single personal question. Technically, transportation for the occupying force was a gray area, although if push came to shove, the navy would lose. However, he was in the best position to make the arrangements, meaning he had the ability to commandeer the ships.

  Two hours later John personally called the Condor and spoke to the ship’s duty officer. He said, “This is Captain Chamberlin. We have arranged for three transports for your passengers and one heavy lift vehicle for their equipment. The craft are presently in transit to your position.” The navy comm officer said, “Thank you captain. Your assistance is greatly appreciated.” John added, “My people are crewing the ships. I would appreciate it if you would replace them with your own crews. I have orders to depart this system as soon as possible. I estimate that it should take no more than twenty-four hours for the army to establish a secure presence on Fujian. Based on that estimate, my command will break orbit in twenty-four hours. If for any reason there is a delay, please contact me.”

  Another convoy entered the system, this one consisting of four carriers and twelve destroyers, plus some additional colliers for John’s force. These ships would provide system defenses for the occupation force, although of course they were late.

  By this time, John’s fighters, plus his few Marines had disabled or destroyed all known ground-based weapons. He decided to leave forty fighters as security while he moved his carriers out to meet the colliers, saving valuable time and lessening the probability that Admiral Grigorivich would yell at him.

  John gave the CAG commanding the remaining fighters on Fujian orders to return to ship as soon as the army was in control of the principal city.

  James joined him on the command deck. John was not the ship captain, didn’t have any ship handling duties or responsibilities, but he did have an excellent relationship with the captain.

  Because of James concussion, he was not yet back on duty status. When his fighter got hit, it disabled the drive, exposing the two to severe G forces as the craft tumbled.

  While the two sat in a corner of the spacious bridge, drinking coffee with the captain, the ship received a comm call from the Condor. The duty officer waved to John and passed the call to him.

  General Chamberlin said, “Captain, I expected you to be on hand for the transfer of command.” John took a very deep breath, and after letting it out, replied, “General Chamberlin, at this moment my command is preparing to rendezvous with the fleet colliers currently one day out of Fujian.” John considered throwing in his trump card – Admiral Grigorivich – but decided to see how the conversation went.

  By this time, James was sitting up and paying rapt attention.

  The general said, “Captain, I know what you are doing: the question is why have you chosen to ignore your responsibility?” John casually glanced at his brother, whose eyes were slowly opening in understanding. He said, “General, prior to your arrival, my fleet participated in the battle for Fujian. As a result, we suffered many casualties and our consumables are dangerously low, especially missiles. Sir, may I ask, when will your forces become operational?”

  There was a brief pause, then a clearly angry general answered, “Captain, I expect you to shuttle to the Condor immediately. Report to me as soon as you come aboard.”

  John grinned at James, who was struggling with a variety of emotions. John said, “Sir, with all due respect, I have orders to proceed immediately to link up with our primary mobile fleet. I am therefore unable to pay a courtesy call. You may of course contact my superior officer for a clarification.” James face revealed a variety of strong emotions, one of them being pain, but mirth seemed to be winning out: Their ‘immediate superior officer’ was currently in an entirely different solar system, and unavailable.

  The general asked, “And, who is your superior officer?” John said, “Sir, I report directly to Admiral Grigorivich. Captain Spenser, the commander of the detachment now assuming responsibility for the Fujian system can forward your communications to the admiral. Sir, do you have anything else for me at this time?”

  The general was clearly furious, but John wasn’t finished, “Sir, if I may? Lt. Cdr. James Chamberlin, one of my CAGs, was aboard one of the nearly five hundred federal and more than three thousand rebel fighters lost in combat during the recent battle. Fortunately, both Commander Chamberlin and his pilot survived and are recuperating, with the expectation that they will return to active duty status in time for our next engagement. Do you have a message you wish me to pass on?” John may have become a little emphatic.

  After a long moment of dead silence, General Chamberlin said, “Captain, I…no.” John said, “In that case, do you have anything else for me sir?” Without answering, the general ended the call. John and James looked at each other, neither one wishing to break the silence. James finally said, speaking quietly, as they were not alone, “You have changed. This is the first time I’ve ever heard you speak that way to father.” John said, speaking flatly, “We don’t seem to have a father, just an army general.”

  James looked down at his feet, “When is this war going to end? I’ve been married for what seems like a very long time, and I’ve spent almost no time with my wife.” John said, “It took a century for the American south to recover from their civil war, and they were still flying rebel flags over former rebel government buildings long after that.”

  James looked up, “As soon as this nightmare is over, I’m going home and I’m not leaving the house, ever again.” John looked carefully at his brother. James had always had an ebullient personality, either smiling or laughing at the slightest opportunity. Where before, he would have been joking, now he seemed completely serious. John sighed, “James, after two weeks, your wife will throw you out on your ass.” James brightened a little, “If th
at happens, I’ll move in with you.” John said, “When pigs fly.” James smiled, “We don’t have any pigs on Maya.” John nodded somberly, “That’s because pigs can’t fly, genius, and right now, neither can you.” James grinned, “You never could.”

  John looked at his brother, thinking how incredibly fortunate he was to be related to James, “Possibly not, but I outrank you because I can delegate; you think the word means an entrance to a restaurant.” James nodded, “Yes you do outrank me: just means everyone wants to stand upwind from you.”

  John stood up, suddenly feeling better, “Commander, I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to find someone to fill an empty slot on the DeKlerk.” James struggled to his feet, “What, they need someone to shovel garbage?” John grinned, “Yes, and I know just the girl for the job.” James finally laughed, “You don’t know any girls. Oh, wait, yes you do. Unfortunately, they’re all living in your tiny closet of a home.”

  Ten hours later, the last of John’s fighters lifted up out of the atmosphere and began accelerating to meet up with their carrier. There had been no further contact from the general.

  It took nearly an entire day to replenish. As soon as the colliers were clear, John’s fleet went to maximum military acceleration.

  A courier jumped into the system, identified John’s fleet and jumped again on to his heading. John’s orders had been changed. He was ordered to Earth.

  Chapter 34

  It took five days to reach the vicinity of Earth’s system. One of his ships jumped into the outer system. Fifteen minutes later an extremely nervous destroyer captain challenged the cruiser Baltimore. John sent the cruiser in first because it was more likely to survive that nervous destroyer’ trigger finger. They were cleared to proceed to the orbit of Jupiter, where coincidentally a huge new base was being constructed on Ganymede.

  As they moved inward, it became clear that something big had happened – there were a number of large groups of ships moving through the system, but they seemed to be grouped into convoys and traversing along corridors.

  John received new orders, putting him temporarily under command of Fifth Fleet, the one tasked with the protection of Sol. Additionally, John was told to immediately report to Jupiter base. Oddly, the two sets of orders conflicted. The first set ordered him to proceed via the fastest means possible to earth. The second set changed his destination to Jupiter.

  He flew a fighter, not willing to endure the voyage in a slow and uncomfortable shuttle.

  His flight of four fighters, despite operating with their IFF’s, were challenged four separate times before receiving clearance to land.

  They were directed to dock on an enormous platform. After shutting down their drives, the huge, three hundred meter long rectangular deck began lowering into the depths of an underground base. Apparently, the dock was brand new, and not yet fully operational. It took ten minutes to haltingly descend one hundred meters. John sighed: another example of fighting a war with the lowest bidder or possibly, the most generous doner.

  It finally reached the bottom, and moments later four tugs showed up. After another long wait, their fighters were pulled inside a hanger, complete with an armored hatch that began closing once they were inside. Three other hangers were in the process of being excavated, although not at that particular moment.

  It seemed a little overkill for four tiny fighters.

  It also seemed that the hanger was neither finished nor airtight. John and his seven crewmates climbed out of their fighters and waddled to a personnel lock, where they cycled through into the base.

  After awkwardly climbing out of their flight suits and hanging them in open lockers, they walked out into a passageway, full of construction equipment and materials, but otherwise empty of people.

  Lieutenant Smith, John’s pilot said, “Sir, we were accosted four times on the flight to Jupiter base, but now that we’re here, they seem to have lost interest.” John asked, “Did you bring any food or water?” She shook her head in resignation, “Sir, if you recall, there isn’t enough room in our cockpit for an idle thought.” John looked sadly at her, “Something you normally have in great abundance.” She sniffed, “Sir, I’m wounded.” John nodded somberly, “The way you pilot, that’s no surprise.” She gasped in delight. She’d been with him for over two years, and had watched as his happy disposition gradually succumbed to the seemingly interminable loss of life. She cared deeply for her boss, and noted with delight his recent, inexplicable uptick in mood.

  They walked a little carefully in the one-third normal gravity up to an intersection. They spotted a low-slung cargo hauler moving toward them from the side passageway and waved the driver to a halt. John asked the civilian, “Can you direct us to, I don’t know, someone wearing a navy uniform?” He looked at the group of pilots and navigators and did everything but wrinkle his nose at their disheveled appearance and somewhat ripe smell. He waved in the direction he’d come from, shook his head and resumed his journey. He hadn’t said a word, although he’d expressed a great deal.

  They walked over two hundred meters to a large, echoing chamber. A navy enlisted sat at an impromptu desk, created out of what appeared to be a hatch, propped horizontally on two packing crates. He casually stood as they approached. He smiled a friendly greeting, rather than offering up a salute.

  He said, “Welcome to Ganymede. Are you reporting for duty?” John smiled nicely at the seaman apprentice, “Are you in the navy?” He stood marginally straighter and answered, “Yes sir.” John continued to smile, “Can you direct us to the OoD?” Seaman Gomez, the name on his uniform blouse, said, “Sir, there is no OoD. This is a civilian construction site and hasn’t been turned over to the navy – won’t be for some time.”

  John nodded thoughtfully, “So, do you constitute the entire naval complement on Ganymede?” He said, earnestly, “Oh no sir. There are several hundred naval personnel here.” John asked, gently, “And, are any of them, say…officers? Someone you would normally salute when you saw them?”

  The very young sailor flushed, and promptly saluted. He held his salute and added “Sorry sir, I’ve been on Ganymede for two months, and they don’t seem to much care for military protocol here. Sir.” John smilingly returned the salute and said, “No problem seaman. This is the first time we’ve set foot on something that didn’t require frequent refueling in...a very long time. Not certain how long. Meanwhile, my name is Captain Chamberlin, and I have been ordered to proceed to Jupiter Base and report to Admiral Grigorivich, or an aide, assistant, someone.” The seaman’s eyes widened and he said, “Captain Chamberlin? Um, we’ve heard of you. I, um, I don’t know what to do.”

  John smiled happily, “Seamen Apprentice Gomez, you are commendably honest. Tell me, what would you do, if you were in my shoes, which is to say, tired, smelly, dirty, in need of a restroom and a good meal? Well, food substitute.”

  The very young man seemed to realize that he wasn’t about to get court martialed, and relaxed. He said, “Sir, I would head to the, well, head, take a shower, shave, put on a fresh uniform and catch a ride to the commissary – there’s no officer’s mess yet.”

  John nodded encouragingly, “Yes, exactly, save for the all-important fact that since you’ve just arrived on Ganymede, you would have no idea where to go. What would you do then?”

  Seaman Gomez, whose middle name must have been ‘oblivious’, enthused, “Sir, I would ask, um, me to help...you. This is confusing.” John smiled encouragingly, “You have no idea. Now, will you please assist us?”

  Ten minutes and a confusing number of passageways later, they arrived at a section of the immense base that appeared to be inhabited, although mostly by the detritus of a huge construction project.

  Before Seaman Gomez returned to what appeared to be his duty station, John received verbal instructions on the locations of the mixed - meaning officer and enlisted - communal heads and the commissary, as well as the office the navy was using.

  He ran off and John and com
pany went into the head. It was your typical open space, with lockers and benches along one wall, and a large, open shower area adjacent to the actual toilets, aka ‘heads’. Lieutenant Smith said, “Sir?” John grinned, “Yes lieutenant? You have a question?” She laughed, “Paper, rock, scissors to see who goes first?” The men lost. There was apparently a very large quantity of hot water, meaning the men were in for a long wait.

  John appointed the other two men to guard the entrance while he went off in search of competent authority. He’d settle for authority.

  He struck out, but the commissary did look interesting, despite being nearly entirely empty.

  He arrived back at the head as the five women walked out, looking remarkably refreshed. John and the two former guardians of modesty were next up.

  Thirty minutes later the eight officers entered the commissary where they found a small food service area. Unfortunately, it was civilian, and a prominent sign said that it was run by and restricted to the employees of Mitsubishi Heavy Equipment Company. Seaman Gomez had to have been eating, but not there.