by Ryk Brown
“Seriously?”
“Hell, yes! Nathan Scott knows how to work the angles. He may not be a spit and polish, chewing and spitting nails, sea-dog captain like you and your buddies, Poc and Roselle, but he knows people, and he knows how to read a situation and come up with a quick solution.”
“But some of his solutions are pretty far outside the norm.”
“I’d say they kind of had to be, wouldn’t you? It’s not like any of them have been normal situations to begin with.”
Captain Nash leaned back in his chair and sighed. “You like him, don’t you?”
“He’s my friend, so yeah, I do like him. But he’s also my commanding officer, and I respect him. Granted, I didn’t before, but I didn’t have much choice. None of us did, not even Nathan. So you see, you all might want to give him a chance, because he may surprise you.”
“Surprise is exactly what we’re afraid of,” Bobby said. “Look, Jess, none of us are out to get him, and none of us are out to take his command away. As far as I can tell, he’s earned that chair. But we have a duty, as officers, to ensure that he is able to do his best. He may be a great leader, and able to think on his feet, but he sucks at running a ship. Not because he’s an idiot, but because he lacks training, and he lacks exposure to proper role models. He doesn’t know how to be a good captain because he hasn’t watched a good captain in action.”
“Maybe that’s why he is able to do the things he does,” Jessica argued. “Did you ever think of that?”
“The old, ‘this isn’t the sea, this is outer space’ argument,” Bobby said. “Yeah, I’ve heard that one. Admittedly, there may be some truth to that. But, since we don’t have much else to build from, we have to start somewhere, don’t we?”
“So, you three want to ‘whip him into shape’, make him into a ‘proper CO’? Is that it?”
“Something like that, yes,” Bobby replied, leaning back in his chair again. “More than anything, we want to build his confidence. You can see it in his eyes, Jess. The man is constantly second-guessing himself, always looking to subordinates for answers.”
“I thought that was called good resource management.”
“The captain of a warship has to be almighty and all-knowing. He has to have the right answer every time, and he must show no doubt in his decisions. He must be all these things, because his crew has to believe in him, and be willing to follow him into battle without hesitation. You people have been following him all this time because you had no other choice. Now you have three other choices. Us.”
“I thought you said you weren’t trying to…”
“…We aren’t. But because we’re here now, Scott has to be bigger, bolder, and more confident than any of us. You saw Roselle, that’s a tall order right there.”
“So all that crap on the ramp the other day, that was all part of your ‘master plan’?”
“Well, partly. Mostly it was just Roselle being an ass. A damned good CO, but an ass nonetheless.”
“God, I hate this shit,” Jessica said, shaking her head as it hung down. “I have to admit, though, it does make sense. Maybe you’re not as dumb as I thought,” she added in jest.
“Not to sound condescending or anything, Jess, but you guys are a bunch of kids who think you’re all grown up because you’re driving daddy’s truck. I admit, you’ve done pretty damn well so far, but you’ve all got a lot to learn. A lot. Truth is, without the Corinari, I doubt you would’ve gotten this far. Prechitt, McCullum, Montrose, Taggart… Those are the guys that are keeping your crews motivated and following orders.”
“Taggart? Are you kidding me?” Jessica exclaimed. “He’s not Corinari. He’s a fucking ring-miner from Haven. A slave driver, in fact.”
“Maybe, but I’ll bet he was in the service at some point in his life.”
“Doubtful.”
“You’re the Aurora’s chief of security, aren’t you? Shouldn’t you know?”
“How was I supposed to do a background on the guy?” Jessica objected. “He’s from a world over a thousand light years away that’s run by an organized crime family of some type. Hell, Taggart is probably not even his real name. He’s used three last names that I know of since he came on board.”
“How the hell did he end up as chief of the boat, then?” Bobby wondered.
“Captain likes him.”
“Seems to be doing a pretty good job so far, from what I’ve read.”
“Yeah, as much as I hate to admit it, the old coot has done pretty well,” Jessica admitted.
“Anyway, enough about all this. Tell me how you ended up a badass spec-ops bitch.”
“Watch your tongue, Bobert. I’d hate for you to have to explain to your crew how your baby sister beat the snot out of you. Probably ruin that whole ‘almighty, all-knowing’ thing you’ve got going with them.”
* * *
“They’ve got to be burning a lot of damned propellant,” Captain Roselle said.
“Agreed,” Nathan replied from his chair at the head of the conference table in the command briefing room.
“That might mean that they will have limited maneuverability when they arrive,” Cameron suggested.
“We have no idea what their propellant storage capacity actually is,” Captain Poc replied, “therefore we cannot make that assumption.”
“Well, another strike en route is out of the question,” Nathan said. “The way they’ve been executing random course changes over the last two weeks makes it near impossible to set the mines to knock them out of FTL at a position of our choosing.”
“We’ve still got eight antimatter cores left,” Cameron said. “Maybe if we wait until we have at least four KKVs ready, we could spread the mines further apart, knock them out of FTL and then launch a spread of all four KKVs. We might get lucky. Even if we miss, we can still recover the KKVs and use them again.”
“But we can’t recover the antimatter mines,” Captain Poc pointed out. “Such a plan has very low odds of success. Better that we save the antimatter cores for use when the platform arrives.”
“What are you suggesting, Captain?” Nathan wondered.
“Your cheng had some good ideas,” Captain Poc said, looking at Cameron. “Perhaps we can create a few jump torpedoes with antimatter warheads. That would at least get the weapons past the platform’s point-defenses.”
“But not past their shields,” Captain Nash argued.
“You don’t think a couple of antimatter blasts will bring down their shields?” Captain Roselle wondered.
“One of the previous mines did detonate slightly late on the last attempt,” Cameron explained, “so the energy from its detonation occurred a split second after the target came out of FTL. The platform’s forward shields took the full force without failing. It did drain their shields by more than fifty percent, but they held.”
“Then you hit them with three at once to bring down their shields, then the rest to take them out,” Captain Roselle insisted.
“You’re suggesting that we set off up to eight antimatter warheads, all within our own system, and most likely within close proximity of Earth?” The expression on Cameron’s face clearly communicated her opinion of Captain Roselle’s reckless plan.
“Obviously we don’t wait for them to get close to Earth,” Captain Roselle responded.
“We have no way of knowing how close they will come out of FTL,” Captain Poc said. “If I were that platform’s CO, I would come out of FTL as close to Earth as possible. Once close in, it will be too risky to use KKVs against them.”
“Less risky to detonate antimatter warheads in low orbit than a KKV,” Captain Roselle insisted, still defending his original idea.
“Not by much,” Nathan replied. “Then we agree that we should try and make ready all possible attack strategies?”
“Hell, yes,” Captain Roselle said. “The more we have to hit them with, the better.”
“To that end,” Captain Poc began, “What are the chances of arming o
ur ships prior to the platform’s arrival?”
“I don’t think it will be a problem,” Nathan answered. “The Karuzara has been making plasma cannons to install in defense turrets on her surface for weeks now. We could easily attach them to your hulls. However, you yourself said that the hulls of your ships could not withstand even a single rail gun shot. Without shields, you would be extremely vulnerable.”
“Then get us shields,” Captain Poc replied.
“It is unlikely that we can get jump drives, shields, and weapons installed in your ships in such a short time,” Nathan insisted, “even if you were already sitting in the Karuzara. Remember, we only have a month until the platform arrives. Besides, even with weapons and shields, the amount of damage that you would be capable of inflicting on such a target is minimal. It’s simply not worth the risk. A better use for your ships would be the deployment of KKVs and jump torpedoes. Those can easily be attached to your hull. That would give us the ability to better position the KKVs according to the target’s actual position rather than its expected position.”
Captain Roselle looked at Captain Poc, his eyebrows raised. He looked back at Nathan. “Apparently you’ve actually thought this one through, Scott. For once.”
“Captain, Comms,” Naralena called over the open intercom built into the conference table.
“Go ahead,” Nathan answered.
“A Corinairan cargo ship just jumped into the system, sir. They’re requesting permission to make orbit alongside us.”
“Is it another boxcar?” Nathan asked.
“Captain, Navashee here. It’s an old Corinairan interplanetary cargo ship. The Glendanon, sir. One hundred times the cargo capacity of a boxcar, sir. About eight hundred meters long. They’ve been fitting them with jump drives since we’ve been gone. I read about them in one of the news reports that come in regularly via the comm-jumpers.”
Captain Poc looked at Nathan, a concerned look on his face. “You were not expecting this ship?”
“No, sir, I was not,” Nathan answered. “Mister Navashee, how sure are you of this ship?”
“I’ve seen plenty of them, Captain. And I’m not picking up any abnormal readings that would indicate a hostile intent. No abnormal power signatures, no warheads, and she is fully loaded. I’m also detecting more than three hundred active stasis pods.”
“Captain, Comms, the cargo ship has transmitted another message. It’s a video message… From Prince Casimir, sir.”
“Transfer it here.”
“Aye, sir.”
Nathan and the other captains watched the view screens on the walls of the command briefing room as they came to life, revealing the image of Prince Casimir of Takara. Although still wearing the more formal attire of his position, his attire was slightly more reminiscent of the man Nathan and Cameron had known for months as ‘Tug’.
“Greetings Captain Scott. The ship requesting clearance to make orbit above your world is on temporary loan from the Darvano Shipping Company. It carries volunteers from Corinair, Ancot, Takara… Even from Haven and Palee. For whatever reasons, they have all volunteered their time and efforts to aid the people of Earth in their recovery. Distribute them and the resources carried with them as your leaders see fit. A full manifest is included with this transmission. In this ship’s cargo bays you will find food, sanitation equipment, water purification systems, medical equipment and supplies, everything that the people of the Pentaurus cluster could muster on short notice that might aid your people. It is not much, considering the scope of your emergency, but it is a start. My hope is that the nobles of my world will realize that desire to help the birthplace of humanity in its survival cannot be stopped, and that it would be in their own best interests to join the effort. I regret that this is the last provision of support that I can offer you, but alas I have depleted my family’s holdings, and used my influences to their fullest extent. I suspect, that before long, my family shall lose its position under the laws of Takaran nobility, at which point my ability to support you will come to an end. While I will do all that I can to postpone that outcome, I suspect that it is only a matter of time.”
Casimir held his head down for a moment before looking at the camera again. “I urge you all to follow Commander Dumar’s advice. I know of no man better qualified to lead the war against the Jung. Furthermore, there is no one I trust more than him. Good luck to you all.”
“There’s more than that,” Cameron said as the view screens clicked off. She studied her data pad for a moment. “I’m reading the manifest now,” she explained. “They’ve got fabricators, large-scale radiation cleanup equipment, portable medical facilities, miniature comm-sats. Christ, this manifest reads like a colonization package. Medical personnel, engineers, communications specialists. Holy…” Cameron looked at Nathan. “They’re carrying more than five hundred billion nanites per container, and it shows fifty containers.”
“How many nanites in a therapeutic dose?” Captain Poc wondered.
“Around ten thousand, I think,” Nathan answered.
“Some need more than others, depending on the level of injury,” Cameron explained. “I was getting more than ten thousand per day back on Corinair. But that’s still enough for at least a few doses per person on Earth.”
“It seems your allies in the Pentaurus cluster are proving valuable in more ways than one, Captain Scott,” Captain Poc congratulated.
“So it does,” Nathan agreed, a smile on his face. “How many boxcars are currently in the system?” Nathan asked Cameron.
“Two right now. They just delivered two more platoons of Ghatazhak. The other four boxcars are on runs between Tanna and Earth.”
“We should probably retask all the boxcars to begin unloading that ship,” Captain Nash suggested.
“Agreed,” Nathan replied. “I’ll see to it that Porto Santo operations knows.”
“How many Ghatazhak does that bring us up to, Captain,” Captain Poc wondered.
“Just over eight hundred, I believe,” Nathan answered. “Telles has been setting up quick response stations on each of the major continents using the Ghatazhak deployment pods as makeshift command posts. There are six of them so far, not including Porto Santo. Unfortunately, that stretches his fourteen combat jumpers pretty thin. He does report a significant reduction in the number of riots or armed assaults on government security forces in the past few weeks, so at least they are finally starting to get things under control on the surface.”
“I’m sure the arrival of additional aid will only help matters,” Captain Poc insisted.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Nathan agreed.
“Don’t get too comfortable yet, Scott,” Captain Roselle warned. “We’ve still got that battle platform to deal with.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * *
“You wanted to see me, Skipper?” Jessica said as she closed the ready room hatch behind her.
“Yes, Lieutenant Commander, I did,” Nathan answered.
Jessica looked at Nathan, noticing the grin on his face. “What?” she said, her eyes squinting in suspicion.
“I got a message from my sister, Miri,” Nathan said.
“So?”
“As you know, Nash is a pretty common name in the NAU.”
“So is Scott.”
“She found them, Jess,” Nathan finally admitted. “Your parents, your brothers, everyone. They’re all alive and well, living in a refugee camp on the coast of Texas.”
Jessica’s mouth fell open. “You’re shittin’ me.”
“I’ve got a jump shuttle on standby, if you and your brother want to go and see them.”
Jessica’s face lit up. “Are you kidding me? Hell, yes!” she exclaimed, turning back toward the exit. She stopped abruptly and ran back around Nathan’s desk, throwing her arms around him. “Thanks, Nathan.”
“My pleasure, Jess.”
She stepped back, straightening her stance. “Request permission to disembark, sir,” she said,
raising her hand in salute.
“Permission granted,” Nathan replied, returning her salute as she turned and ran out of the compartment.
* * *
“Captain,” Commander Willard said as he led their guest into the captain’s mess, “may I present Edom Gullen, captain of the Glendanon.”
“An honor to meet you, Captain,” Nathan said politely, offering his hand in friendship.
“The honor is mostly on myself,” Captain Gullen responded in an unusually heavy Corinairan brogue.
“I hope you do not mind that I sent my first officer as your guide. I thought since Commander Willard spoke your language, it might be easier for you.”
“It was for the best, indeed,” Captain Gullen agreed. “My Angla is not often used, I fear.”
“If you prefer, Captain, Commander Willard can act as your interpreter this evening.”
“Possibly, yes. I will try as best to speak your language, Captain,” Captain Gullen said.
“Captain,” Nathan began, “This is Captain Taylor, commanding officer of the Celestia, and this is Captain Poc, commanding officer of one of our Scout ships.”
Both captains exchanged greetings and handshakes with the Corinairan captain.
“If everyone would like to take their seats, I believe dinner is already waiting for us,” Nathan said, gesturing to the table.
“You have a most amazing ship, Captain,” Captain Gullen began, struggling with each word. “However, its outward appearance deceives.”
“How so?” Nathan wondered as he took his seat.
“So big from outside is your ship, but so small from within.”
“Most of the Aurora’s interior space is filled with the many systems that make her function. Less than a third of her is made up of habitable crew spaces.”
“Not to mention the Explorer-class ships have a three-meter thick hull,” Cameron added.
“But you have windows,” Captain Gullen said, pointing at the large window on the port bulkhead.
“View screens made to look like windows,” Nathan explained. “They are linked to external cameras embedded in the ship’s outer hull.” He picked up the remote from the side table behind him and changed the view from its default setting that matched the orientation of the screen in relation to the ship, to one of the starboard cameras pointed at Earth. “We can even choose a scene from Earth if we like.”