by Chris Hechtl
But the first trap had hammered his protective fighter screen. It had taken him awhile to realize that they had been the true targets all along. With the fighters drawn down and the screen thinned out, Horatio's forces picked off his remaining defenders, then went in and started tearing up his inner screen of destroyers and cruisers.
He used attrition to tear up Zek's forces in a series of fighter and bomber strikes. The bombers whittled away at Zek's force, forcing the rear admiral onto the defense, something he hadn't expected. He turned to run for the jump point in order to buy time for his forces, but Horatio's carriers were on him like wolves, staying just out of reach but sending their broods in to inflict even more damage, slowing his forces down, bleeding them. Finally, the rear admiral was forced to concede the match when he realized he had no hope of winning.
“I don't believe it,” Zek said as the sim concluded and the lights rose to normal brightness levels. “How the hell … I mean, we took losses at the beginning, and that trap but …”
“It wasn't just the fixed defenses, sir,” Oppie said. He knew the admiral had made mistakes. The man was a brawler; he'd assumed his greater numbers would have been all the edge he'd needed. Their slow speed and his arrogance and overconfidence had been their undoing. “Something like this has happened before. Most recently in Protodon I believe. I think I need to brush up on that again,” he said.
Zek took the statement as a pointed reminder. He vowed to do the same … after he checked out the recordings of the sim.
He held out his hand to the commodore. “Well played,” he said gruffly.
“Thank you, sir. I hopefully, gave you a run for your money,” Horatio said.
“That you did indeed. I'll be smarting from the bruising for awhile,” Zek replied. He had a new respect for the other flag officer.
Horatio bowed a bit then stood tall. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don't get all smug. I'll whip your ass the next time,” Zek vowed.
Horatio's solemn face cracked into a smile. “I'm looking forward to it. Or at least you trying to do so, sir. I think,” he said.
“Funny,” Zek replied chuckling as some of his frustration over loosing ebbed.
~<><{<^>}><>~
“They did good. They definitely gave us a run for the money. I wish we had time for a rematch,” Falling Leaf said. “I think with more time we could have gotten some of the rough edges off.”
“A rematch? We were mostly spectators there,” Oppie replied with a sniff. He hated that, though he admitted privately he should be used to it. When in real combat, the captain or XO would call the broad shots, and he'd dutifully execute them. But he would also have the flexibility to use his initiative.
The rear admiral hadn't thought of things that way. He'd been ridged to the point of micromanaging the tactical department. It had bothered him a bit, but he'd done his best to work with the different command style.
“You maybe. Commodore Logan let us run a lot of it ourselves,” Falling Leaf said smugly. “He delegated a lot. He had to given that we were broken up into smaller task forces.”
Oppie's eyes narrowed. Slowly he nodded. “Ah.”
“I think that didn't go over well with the admiral though,” the Elf said thoughtfully. “And he lost so it definitely didn't sit well on some level. I understand he's reviewing the recordings now,” she said. She checked the computer log and then nodded. “Indeed he is,” she said.
“So? A loss is a loss, he'll get over it, or he won't. He doesn't seem like the type to hold a grudge,” Oppie said. Falling Leaf cocked her head. “Okay, so it's not all beer and skittles ….” Oppie scowled as he cut himself off. “What the frack is a skittle?!?” he demanded, wrinkling his nose at the distracting thought.
His junior tactical officer spread her tiny hands apart. “Damned if I know, sir,” she said with a shake of her broad head. “Does it matter?”
Oppie shook himself. “No. I guess not.” He grimaced. “Next time though, I get the commodore,” he said, pointing his thumb at his chest.
“Spoilsport,” the Elf teased. He snorted. “Just remember boss, the rear admiral is going to be gunning for him. He might be out for blood or at the least looking to even the score,” she said.
Oppie opened his mouth and then closed it again. She was right. He started to take it back, but she held up a tiny finger. “Ah, no take backs!” she said.
“Cute,” he growled.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Horatio grinned slightly at the rear admiral. “Gotcha,” he said.
“Yes, that you did,” Zek admitted. “I have to give you credit for that,” he said, clearly nettled by the concept of losing. “Though you did rely on others to do the job, not your own skills,” he pointed out.
“It's a team effort,” Horatio said with a wave. He knew scoring off his boss wasn't something to do lightly, but he couldn't help it. He'd been trained to do his best and to give his all in such situations. It was like martial arts; you don't intentionally lose a bout. It was a cardinal sin and insult if one did.
“I'm still getting used to the smaller units. I mean …”
“The difference between wielding a broadsword or axe versus a rapier, sir?” Horatio asked when Zek stumbled on the analogy. “The capital ships are slow, heavily armored, but have a hefty punch. The carriers are a rapier that is flexible and can get in to carve them up while taking light losses. I heard it described as trying to hit a pack of Waffendorf flies with a sledge hammer,” he said.
Zek grunted. “Something like that I suppose. I guess I'm too used to fighting large groups—squadrons and proper task forces and such.”
“We can do that, sir. Take some of the variables out. Dumb the sim down to a strategic one over tactical,” Horatio said thoughtfully. “We'd have to factor in time problems of course, but modern sensors and tachyon transceivers alleviate some of that.”
“Harrumph,” Zek said after a moment. He thought the scenario through and then slowly he nodded. “Yes, I suppose we could try that.”
“It would be good for me. I haven't done that in a long time,” Horatio admitted as he rubbed the small of his back.
“You did this all the time?” Zek asked. “You took the courses?”
Horatio shook his head. “Like you, I had other things to do with my time. I audited what I could, both before the war and after on San Diego. I also participated in fleet training exercises, though normally I tried to referee them.” He shrugged. “But on Anvil I treated it like a game, not a real life and death struggle,” he explained. He looked up to the ceiling. “I think, yeah, Shelby got me back into it. She drew me into it by getting me to tell her stories, both her and the other kids, Harris in particular,” he said. He grimaced and shook his head in memory. “I found a couple sims and played with them, showed them the ropes. Harris took it from there. Shelby used to play me in order to get better so she could regularly beat him,” he said.
“I see.”
“I subscribe to the theory that if you are going to be a good chess or other strategic player you don't do gimmies. You play a harder opponent, someone better than you. Sometimes the best lessons are when you make a mistake … or when you get beaten. As long as the other guy doesn't rub it in.”
“Thank you for that,” Zek replied with a snort.
“No problem, sir,” Horatio replied with another brief smile. “Harris used to crow whenever he beat Shelby or one of the others. He was a sore loser when he lost though. He used to watch the playbacks and tear apart the performance, both his and his opponents,” he said with a shake of his head. “I remember when I played him one time … gah! The kid didn't let it go for nearly a week! Not until his next bout,” he said.
“I see,” Zek replied with a shrug. “Remind me not to play Harris then.”
“I think it won't come up for a few years, sir,” Horatio replied with a nod. “In the meantime …”
“Did you get any further with that sim?” Zek asked. When Horatio blinked h
e waved a hand and then pointed to the tablet. “Mercury? The ship design?” he asked.
“Oh, no, not much further, sir,” Horatio said, glancing at the tablet. “I wish the admiral would have given us a better version or hell, Proteus. I understand why he didn't but it …,” he shrugged. “It's like playing with freeware when you know the real thing is better and just out of reach I suppose,” he said with a grimace.
“Proteus …”
“The admiral has three A.I. or I should say had,” Horatio explained. Zek blinked in shock. Horatio smiled a tight-lipped brief smile again. “Had, he now has two,” he said, holding up two fingers and wiggling them briefly. “Proteus and Protector.”
“I … you mentioned Proteus before. I think I remember the name Protector, and I heard about another, Sprite?”
“Yes. See, Sprite is what we were supposed to receive, a chief of staff. Well, technically we were supposed to get something in line with Protector since he took on both Sprite's role and Defender's.”
“Defenders?”
“Defender singular. His name, Lieutenant Defender. He was created to be the admiral's watch dog and security A.I. The admiral tended to use him for more. Usually intelligence work if he had the spare processors available.”
“I see. And what happened?”
“Nothing good,” Horatio explained. He went on to explain some of the less classified portions of the events on Lemnos. He finished with explaining how the A.I. had realized he had been compromised to the point of rampancy but had refused to be repaired. “Instead he compressed his critical files into a series of encrypted zips and deleted himself in order to protect his primary, the admiral, and the other A.I. who were part of his network.”
“It's … hard to belief,” Zek admitted, thinking about the situation. “To sacrifice … I didn't think they had that in them. I mean, yes, I suppose if programmed but …”
“I know. Proteus and Defender are, or in Defender's case, were, a dumb A.I. Not a smart A.I. like Sprite. Their time with the admiral modified and evolved them somewhat to a heightened status.”
“And you say we're supposed to receive them as well?”
“Oh, eventually, or something of the sort,” Horatio said. “I know the idea takes a bit of getting used to. Defender was as I said, a security A.I. designed to watch over its primary, make certain the laws weren't broken, and defend him or her in need and if necessary, terminate him if he was captured,” he said darkly.
“I see,” Zek said slowly.
“It's not a pleasant thought I know. Necessary I suppose. We have similar programs in our implants already,” Horatio explained. He tapped his forehead with his index finger. “It is in every sailor and officer regardless of rank. But they are mostly passive. Flag officers are higher value targets so they need more protection and oversight.”
“Agreed,” Zek said, eyes shifting as he wrestled with the concepts of sharing something alien in his body.
“It hasn't happened yet, sir,” Horatio said quietly, sensing the other man's discomfort.
“Am I that obvious?” Zek asked after a moment.
Horatio shrugged. “You are … you. I was going to say human, but I think it's pretty much a condition of all organics, the … reluctance to be turned into a host.”
“Agreed,” Zek growled.
Horatio raised an eyebrow. He waited a beat but then shrugged when the admiral didn't elaborate. “As I said, it hasn't happened. Yet.”
“Hopefully, not ever,” Zek muttered.
~<><{<^>}><>~
“Sir, we're ready to enter the rapids,” Captain Perth said.
Admiral Zekowitz nodded. He'd gotten two more games in, and he'd bested Horatio two out of three but only barely. Their last battle could have been called a tie since he hadn't had much left afterward.
Captain Perth had taken his turn to play in the simulators as had Lieutenant Dvorsky. He'd held off reading the dispatches and news updates from the B101a1 ansible platform under the assumption that he'd have plenty of time to read them in hyper. While they simmed and he watched, he took the opportunity to scan the headings. There was a bit there but no news on Second Fleet's attack on Nuevo Madrid, at least not yet at any rate.
Given that they weren't going to see another ansible for several months, it sucked that they were going to be left hanging. But there was no way around it he thought.
“Run your ship, Captain. I regret not getting another chance to pin someone's ears back, but we'll have the opportunity on the other side I suppose,” he said.
The captain nodded. “Very well, sir.” He turned to Lieutenant Brock. “You heard the admiral. Take us in,” he ordered.
Lieutenant Brock nodded. “Aye, sir. Hyperdrive is already charged. Course plotted.”
“Then by all means, execute, Mister Brock,” the captain said.
“Entering hyperspace in one minute,” Ensign Caroline warned over the PA. “Secure for jump stations,” she said.
“I'll be in my cabin,” the admiral said, taking off at a trot. He hated jump transitions and preferred to get over the nausea in private.
Chapter 15
When he just couldn't stand staring at the same four walls anymore, Horatio abandoned his cabin and headed to engineering. “Sir, the files and paperwork …,” Lieutenant Olson said, intercepting him.
Horatio grunted as he took the tablet. Olson was getting good at keeping tabs on his charge and making sure he stayed on the straight and narrow. Perhaps too good, the commodore thought darkly as he scanned the required reading list. He groaned. “Okay, I'll read it.”
“Sir …”
“I'm getting a bit stir crazy so I'm going to find a place to hold up and read,” Horatio said as he continued on his way, waving the tablet. An enlisted human made a hole to get out of his way and barely missed getting swiped by the swinging tablet. “I'll upload the files to you when I'm done with them,” Horatio stated.
“Very well, sir,” Olson said.
“Carry on,” Horatio said almost cheerily as he waved the tablet.
He had to grab a handhold when the ship shivered a bit. “A lot of that going on, shivering of the timbers,” the commodore said.
“Sir? This ship doesn't have wood timbers,” a confused SBA said.
“I know that. Old expression,” Horatio said. The shivering seemed to smooth out as the inertial dampening system got a handle on it. “Carry on,” Horatio ordered, moving out himself.
Once he was in engineering country, he felt instantly better. He inhaled and then exhaled, ignoring or filtering out the usual smells of the space. Since everyone seemed to be busy, he found a nice out-of-the-way place in a Jeffery's tube to tuck himself into to read.
That worked for most of a shift until someone went looking and practically tripped on him. The sailor retreated in confusion. After about five minutes, a familiar brown Neomutt's head pocked into the open hatch. “Sir? I'm going to have to ask you to find a safer place to hide from your flag lieutenant,” Percy said with a mischievous twinkle.
“I was almost done here anyway,” Horatio said. He bookmarked where he was at. “Thanks for being polite about it. I would have moved,” he said, stretching a bit before he crawled out of the tube.
He came out to find engineering was working hard on keeping the ship running. Grim determination seemed to be etched on a lot of faces, which told him something had happened to trip the ship up. He'd felt a few jolts and shivers in the seat of his pants while he'd been reading, but now though …. The ship jolted a little once more, which wasn't a good sign. He tucked his tablet under his arm. “What can I do to help, Chief?” he asked.
The Neodog sized him up and then nodded. “We need some help checking the keel grav nodes, sir. I've got most of my people trying to deal with the damage to the bow nodes.”
Horatio nodded. “I'll stash this in your office and then get to work,” he said.
“Do you need a guide?” Percy asked. Horatio just looked at him. The dog snorted.
“Silly question. Chalk it up to being tired I suppose. I know you had a hand in building this ship, sir,” he said.
“Well, several in her class, and I've inspected her several times,” Horatio said. He hefted the tablet. “I'll need a tool kit,” Horatio said.
“I'll get you a work party to oversee, sir,” the chief replied. “I think Mister Bailey is bored too,” he said, turning to see the Neochimp wander in. “You can take him.”
“I'm game,” Bailey said with a nod. “Beats sitting around staring at the walls and ceiling,” he said. “And it beats not strangling Baxter for bouncing that blasted ball over and over,” he growled.
Horatio sniffed then nodded. “Come on then,” he said.
~<><{<^>}><>~
It became apparent that they were in for a rough passage through the rapids despite Caroline's previous two transits. “It seems the gravitational eddies and mass shadows shift about in a random pattern,” Lieutenant Brock reported after the first week in the rapids. He looked a little haggard. So did the helm team. “I now know why it takes a crack team to handle this,” he said, shaking his head.
“Should we slow down?” Lieutenant Dvorsky asked.
“It might be a good idea. Some of those jolts we sustained did some damage,” Percy reported. “My people are on it, but they are going to be overwhelmed if it keeps up. And we can't fix everything, some things can't be taken off-line to be repaired, and we obviously can't go out on the hull in hyper,” he said. "We're only just starting this journey and some of this can be cumulative over time."
Horatio and some of the other engineering passengers had been on hand to see the damage first hand. He made notes of the wear and tear. He knew Galiet was taking notes on the gravitational sheer. He had overheard her making muttering sounds about pulsars and black holes, but he wasn't certain how it tied into the rapids … if it did at all.