First Command kb-2

by Rodney L. Smith

  The second was a video message obviously from her house. Candy and Tammy were lounging in Candy’s living room, wearing their lounging pajamas — at least the tops.

  “Hey, give us a call back. I have a case of the latest vintage of the vidal blanc you like so much. It’s even better than the last year’s vintage, if that’s possible. We’ll cook some steaks and throw in some vegetables and have a feast. Come on.”

  Candy and Tammy stood up and twirled all the way around before sitting back down and closing the video. They were testing his resolve. That’s for sure.

  Kelly checked his schedule. He actually could squeeze in a week when the Vigilant went into the yard. It would take a few days to paint her and a day or two to dry. He could manage a week then. He filled out a leave form and emailed it to CDR Timmons. He reviewed other messages, and marveled as his approved leave came back almost instantaneously.

  Kelly looked through his calendar entries and saw no conflicts. He sent Candy a message, saying he could come over in a day for a week, and to chill down lots of the vidal blanc. He hit send and almost immediately a videoconference request came back. He saw it was from Candy and accepted.

  Candy and Tammy must have just come from the pool, because they were wearing only towels — and those loosely. Kelly looked over his shoulder to make sure he was alone in his cabin. He was.

  “Hey there. We just saw your message and had to see you. How are you?”

  “I’m fine. I’m also glad I didn’t have a conference table full of crewmembers.”

  Candy and Tammy laughed, cast aside their towels, and Candy said, “Why do you think we were wearing the towels?” The two dissolved into giggles and Kelly assumed they were well into a bottle or two of the vidal blanc, even though it was still a while before lunch.

  “Vigilant is going into the yard for a paint job. I can come over late tomorrow, if that’s okay.”

  Candy and Tammy said in unison, “Of course it’s okay.” Candy continued, “What time should we pick you up?”

  “How about dinner at the club at 1800?”

  “How about we pick you up at the club at 1800 and have dinner here at 1830?”

  Kelly laughed and said, “Okay, I’ll meet you at the club at 1800. I have to go do captain stuff now. Later.”

  He clicked terminate to end the video call and tried to get back to work. It was after lunch before he could fully concentrate again.

  Admiral Minacci sipped a soft drink while the Chief of Fleet Operations, Admiral Christos Pouledoris, handled a call from Senator Colleen Santori that interrupted his office call. He couldn’t tell the topic, but by the Admiral’s body language and responses, it must have been good news. He put his drink down onto the coaster on the walnut end table as the call ended.

  “Well, that was good news. Senator Santori just informed me the Defense and Commerce Enhancement Bill passed with only one nay vote from that cowardly bastard Livingstone from Shepard and one abstention from that wishy washy Steele from Gagarin. Why does he even show up? He votes present or abstains more than anything else.”

  “While you were away, the Republic’s Assembly debated tripling production of transporter rings. It seems the freshman senator from New Alexandria, David Colton, is a whiz at bringing together a consensus. A massive transporter ring production station will be orbited over Carpenter. In a year, when the station is complete, they‘ll be able to produce one every two months after six months of initial production. The rings will be built in three separate pieces, so they can be laid side by side and sent through the existing rings to be opened on site. In another eight months they will have four rings to do a basic outfit of the second tier worlds. In five years most major systems will have a ring and all parts of the republic will be reachable in two days. Pretty soon, FTL power 6 will seem so slow.”

  Paulo said, “That’s great news, sir. My nerves really could have used some reinforcements on this campaign. If that private fleet hadn’t shown up, I might have lost it all. Even with them ready to spring the trap behind me, it was very disquieting to see that reduced, but still quite lethal K’Rang fleet in open space before me. A cruiser squadron would have been handy.”

  “Paulo, don’t sell yourself short. Of course we all want to have overwhelming force in any engagement, but you did a damn fine job with what you had. You destroyed a fleet more than twice your size, with only the loss of an assault landing carrier, a frigate, and a few light ships. I’m putting you in for the Distinguished Service Star.”

  Minacci whistled inside his head. The DSS was the second highest award for combat action in the GR.

  The Admiral continued, “If you have any officers or ships that deserve special recognition, let me know and I’ll expedite the processing and Senate confirmation.”

  “Sir, I’m recommending CDR Mike Milton for the Galactic Medal of Honor. He was my best assault landing carrier captain and he came up with the tactic of using the emptied carriers against the K’Rang. It was a heavy blow to lose him and the Yellow Jacket, but his attacks took out a large number of enemy ships, especially their support ships. He took out three of their supply ships and three frigates in his first attack. His second attack destroyed a light cruiser and damaged a second before they got him. He took away a large part of their defensive missiles with the support ships and their long-range offensive capability with the light cruisers. The final fight with the K’Rang would have been a lot more in their favor without Mike’s attacks.”

  “I’ll do what I can, Paulo. The Senate has been a lot friendlier lately. I don’t know why, but I’ll take advantage of that for you. Is there anyone else?”

  “Yes, sir, there is. You know I’ve been pushing to have a scout ship attached to each fleet, task force, and group. I had a young scout ship captain supporting me and he did one hell of a job. I would go so far as to say he was primarily responsible for my victory. His name is Kelly Blake. He’s a recently promoted Lieutenant frocked to Lieutenant Commander by Tom Craddock so he could take over his ship. If Blake is a typical Scout Force officer, I want a dozen. He was smart, capable, intuitive, and deadly.”

  “He won’t admit to it, but he forced the pirates’ surrender singlehandedly. He let me take the credit for it, but he lured two K’Rang scout ships into a very visible ambush that convinced the pirates they would rather surrender to us than the K’Rang. He blinded the K’Rang commander in the process. The K’Rang commander had to advance against me with no knowledge of the battlespace or my force. I’m putting a personal letter in Blake’s file to see to it he becomes a real LCDR as soon as possible. I’d like to recommend him for a DSS as well, sir.”

  Admiral Pouledoris took a sip of his coffee, thought a moment, and replied, “What other decorations does he have?”

  He glanced at his pocket terminal and said, “He has a Space Medal, a Silver Galaxy, a Joint Meritorious Service Medal, a New Alexandrian Order of Valor, and a Golden Shield of New Alexandria.”

  The Admiral whistled. “That’s a lot of hardware for only a frocked lieutenant commander.”

  “I told you he was good, sir.”

  “Put in your recommendations, Paulo. I’ll support them.”

  LCDR Kelly Blake moved the Vigilant to the paint dock and gave authority to Chief Blankenship to start releasing half the crew on up to two weeks leave. The other half would start getting their leave after the ship was released from the yard. He put Connie in charge while he was gone. That evening, he met Candy and Tammy outside the O Club. They were both wearing thin shirtdresses that were buttoned low and hiked up well beyond the limits of propriety. They had Kelly sit in front with Candy, while Tammy climbed into the back. They motored out the main gate to a grocery store and left Kelly in the car, while they hopped in for some breakfast items. They came out later loaded down with bags of groceries and tossed them in the trunk.

  Candy turned left out of the parking lot and headed toward the outskirts of town. Within two blocks she hit the flight controls and smoothly c
limbed to 1000 meters. She turned on the autopilot and leaned into Kelly.

  “Kiss me, you fool!”

  Tammy started laughing. “No, kiss me.”

  Kelly kissed Candy because she asked first and then Tammy. They were both good kissers. Candy set her car down softly next to her house with hardly a bump, gathered his things and the groceries and went inside.

  Candy showed Kelly up to a guest room and had him put down his stuff. Taking advantage of her being alone with him, she melted into his arms and gave him another smoldering hot kiss. She led him down to the kitchen, where Tammy was busily fixing dinner, wearing a chef’s apron and not much else. She took a break as the pasta was cooking to sit on his lap and give him a kiss.

  Tammy got up to tend to the pasta and Alfredo sauce, while Candy poured them all big glasses of the Armstrong equivalent of champagne. She handed one to Kelly and set one next to the stove for Tammy. Tammy came over and all three clinked glasses to toast Kelly’s arrival. Tammy plated up three servings of hot pasta Alfredo and carried them to the table. Candy brought over silverware and they all sat down to eat.

  Candy was first to ask, “How did your patrol go?”

  Kelly for once had a patrol he could talk about, and did, “Not too bad, rescued three damsels in distress, took out two K’Rang scout ships, and had a world surrender to me. Then for good measure, we helped to defeat a K’Rang invasion fleet. It was a typical day at the office.”

  Tammy looked sternly at him, with one breast partially peeking out past the edge of her apron, and said, “Okay, okay, if you can’t tell us, we understand.”

  Kelly threw up his hands and gave up.

  The next morning a very tired, hung over, but happy Kelly woke up to Candy and Tammy giggling from the doorway to his room.

  “Come on sleepy head, the pool’s waiting.”

  Kelly said he’d be right with them, as soon as he could find his feet. It made for a very enjoyable week.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Kelly climbed back aboard the Vigilant, changed into his coveralls, and took a walk around the exterior with Connie, Chief B, and Chief Miller. They inspected to see that the paint crew had done a proper job. Chiefs B and Miller found three spots where the paint crew had painted over particle beam abrasions without filling and sanding first. Kelly had Connie tell them to do those spots over, as the rest rode an antigravity man lift and inspected the sides and upper surfaces of the ship. Chalk circles marked four other places where the same condition existed. Connie supervised, while the crew repaired them to her satisfaction.

  Afterwards, Connie came to see him in his cabin about taking two weeks leave. He told her to put in the form and he’d approve it. He asked where she was going. She told him Alistair was arranging a cabin for them in the southern continent near Lake Tranquility. Kelly wished her a good leave and was there anything else.

  She asked, “Sir, how do you do it?”

  Puzzled he asked, “How do I do what?”

  “How can you watch the death of a ship and 700 crew and not show emotion? I was almost in tears. When the Yellow Jacket was killed, you never showed any emotion.”

  Kelly paused for a second or two and responded, “Connie, rest assured I experienced emotions when the Yellow Jacket was destroyed. As captain, you can’t let those emotions control you. I have responsibility for the Vigilant and the lives of her 47 crewmembers.”

  “In the heat of battle, you can’t mourn your shipmates. That has to wait until later. Why do you think the military has so many memorial services? You have to stay focused on the fight. If you stop to mourn, the battle goes on, and it could kill you. You push it down and let it come back later. They taught me that in fighter school, but it applies equally here. CDR Milton was a good officer and a good man. He left behind a wife, Jenny, and two children, Robbie, eight and Billy, six. I’ve already sent his wife a condolence message and donated credits to her son’s college funds. In combat, keep your mind in the game. Mourn later.”

  She looked at him and he could see the wisdom in what he said. She also felt she had gained a greater insight into her boss.

  As Connie left, Kelly reviewed the logs and message traffic. These quiet times in homeport were one of his favorite times as captain. Nothing unusual or out of the ordinary was in the logs from overnight. He called up Wanda, his AI.

  “Wanda, what message traffic has come in?”

  “Wanda’s older sister alto voice came over the speaker. “How are you, Kelly? I hope you had a good visit with your friends. Message traffic since our arrival has been low. Two messages to captains about FTL power 6 problems that the Valiant had. One says to avoid acceleration to power 6 from below power 4. The other says check your engine synchronizers for conditions out of spec greater than 5 %.”

  “There are two messages containing Chiefs Austin’s and Pennypacker transfer orders. One item I culled from the traffic stream for you. CPT Shappelle has been chosen for Advanced Fighter Weapons School as a student then as an instructor. She reports into Gagarin in three months.”

  Kelly thought what a prize for Angie. He also thought it would put him back to juggling three women. It’s a good thing they all like each other.

  Wanda continued, “There are a number of captains’ notices I forwarded to the appropriate chief. The only one of any consequence was a revocation of the replicator training exception. Now, replicator training will be consolidated in Building 209, adjacent to the main dining facility.”

  Kelly thought, “There go my morning pastries.”

  “Wanda, were there any personal messages?”

  “There is a message from your mother about a message she got from your uncle. The message was written by a politician so was quite long-winded but essentially said he hoped he helped you.”

  Kelly laughed, “He did, Wanda. Sometimes it’s good having relatives in high places.”

  “Kelly,” Wanda said, “There is one other message that has come in that you might find interesting. It is from a MG Irina Bugarov, FF (Ret).”

  Kelly sat up and read the message appearing on his screen.

  TO: Commanding Officer, GRS Vigilant

  FROM: MG Irina Bugarov, FF, (Ret)

  SUBJECT: My Appreciation

  Dear Sir or Ma’am,

  I am writing this message to thank you for my recent liberation from the hands of the Baratarian Brotherhood. My assistant and I were held captive for three weeks, until your action against the K’Rang, which set us all free.

  I do not know if you had the opportunity to meet with any of the people you freed. I tried to meet with you at the reception after the surrender ceremony, but was turned away by the Ascetic guards. All of us captives sheltering in the evacuation site sang your praises and your ship’s, too. We heard the story of your engagement with the two K’Rang scout ships that convinced the Brotherhood to surrender. From now until all of us die, our symbol of freedom will be your black-hulled scout ship.

  I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart for restoring my freedom. Understand that you have my undying thanks. If ever I can be of any assistance to you, you need but ask.

  Irina Bugarov

  MG, FF (Ret)

  Vice President for Defense Industries Consolidated

  Debran Industries, Inc.

  Kelly marveled at this odd turn of events and said, “Now ain’t that a kick in the head!”

  He thanked Wanda, keyed up some paperwork, and started doing captain stuff.

  Steven Maynard called a captains’ conference in his main conference room on Barataria. His twelve captains assembled and waited to hear what he had to say.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he started, “as you know our fortunes have changed drastically over the last several months. We faced death by the Galactic Republic or the K’Rang, but have come out of it stronger. Yes, we have forever lost our old way of life, but that is not necessarily a bad thing.”

  Captain Chang of the Leviathan stood up and said, “How can you say it’
s not a bad thing? How will we live, now that we can no longer plunder?”

  “Captain Chang asks a very good question. I believe I have the answer.”

  He pushed a button and a holographic projection of the planet appeared in the middle of the table. The world had been divided into a number of similarly sized blocks of land.

  “Land, ladies and gentlemen, will pay our bills and keep us in luxuries. Mr. Friedrich Debran has contracted to be our land agent. He will arrange to bring settlers in from the Galactic Republic and give us 70 % of the profit. In addition, we obtained a 300 million-credit advance payment, to keep him honest. Fifteen million of these credits have been deposited in each of your accounts. That is only a down payment. Once the settlers start coming in, we are talking billions of credits and those are just for this planet. We have three more planets after we fill this one.”

  “Look at the globe in front of you. You will each be granted a section of the planet as your property, your estate. You can keep it all or you can sell it to the incoming settlers. Look at the map and let me know your decisions on which plot of land you want over the next week. Where two captains select the same property, it will be settled by a coin toss. We will draw up papers and deed the section to you. I recommend you talk to our planning board and get their advice on how to divide your section into cities, towns, and villages. Our lawyers can help you in establishing any parklands or reserves you may want to set aside.”

  “The future is bright, my captains, and it’s literally right under our feet. We’ll make more credits off this planet than we ever did thieving.”

  Captain Chang answered back, “Yes, but it won’t be near as much fun.”