Admiral's Gambit (A Spineward Sectors Novel:)

by Luke Sky Wachter

  When I’d first come to this system four or more weeks ago, we’d almost been killed by a mis-jump caused by the Trillium deposits scattered around the system. For those who don’t know, Trillium is the main ingredient for star travel. Without it, you’re pretty much sunk. That's about all I know about it, to tell the truth.

  Anyway, after saving the ship from near certain doom caused by the unexpected Trillium deposits, the next thing we’d noticed was a Bug ship taking off from the planet. At the time, the Flag Ship was suffering from a lack of properly installed weapon systems. Needless to say, the inability to destroy them outright led me to call for volunteers to go rescue the natives and, not incidentally, blow up the Bug ship.

  One thing led to another and while we still had no idea what Bugs in their slower-than-light and very much non-hyper capable ships were doing so far away from their normal stomping grounds, one thing was certain: where there were Bug scouts, a Bug mother ship wasn’t far behind.

  The Bugs might be classified as non-sentient, but they knew how to build ships and weapons that were deadly enough to those of us endowed with sentience. The thought of facing down a Bug mother ship was enough to turn any man cold.

  “Point Emergence,” exclaimed the Navigator

  “Extending baffling beyond transfer area and firing main engine,” declared the Helmsman.

  “Point Resistance?” asked Lieutenant Tremblay. There was tension in his voice, but it was a far cry from how he sounded when we first started taking the ship through hyperspace.

  “Engine at 15% of maximum,” said the Helmsman. “We still have a lock on the ship.”

  “Shields modulated for the Sump Slide,” said the man at shields.

  I was surprised what a few weeks of jumping through hyperspace would do for a crew’s confidence in both themselves and the ship. The Bridge crew were almost acting as if this were all old hat. Clearly, the drills we’d been running this past week were paying off.

  Here we were in a potentially hot system, and not a quavering voice among the bunch.

  I smiled proudly. Not for myself, or whatever part I may have played, but for the men and women around me. It was good to see them finding themselves out here on the edge of known space. I was just happy I didn't have to contemplate a change of clothes after every single jump.

  The Science Officer, who would have normally calculated the point resistance, was currently unable to do his job. This inability was directly related to his unwillingness to do this particular part of his job, that part being to measure the point resistance.

  In the past our Science Officer had given us ‘feelings’ instead of hard data. Partly, I think in a deliberate attempt to drive my First Officer mad. However, when I eventually had to step in and break things up, I’d told our Science Officer to be prepared with data and hard figures the next time we point transferred into a system.

  Unfortunately, the man had decided to stand on his laurels as a Caprian Citizen, and the very first point transfer out of the Easy Haven system he gave another feeling instead of a number. After a second heated discussion, Science Officer Jones found himself doing a week in brig.

  I hadn’t wanted to do it, but he forced my hand, and since I was the one that told him to straighten up or go to the brig in the first place, I was forced follow through with my threat.

  Still, other than my missing Science Officer, I was well pleased with the rising level of professionalism on the bridge.

  Also, unlike in the past when I and the rest of the bridge crew were utterly focused on breaking free of the hyper sump to the exclusion of all else, I now tried to focus on the main screen instead. Likewise, the sensor operators immediately started doing their job and began rapidly populating the main screen with a series of contacts.

  “Engine at 25% of maximum. Preparing to light the secondary engines,” said the Helmsman.

  “Shield strength at 96%, shield regeneration is holding steady with the sump drain and slowly climbing,” said the main Shield Operator

  There was a slight tugging sensation.

  “There we go. We’ve broken free of the Inertial Sump. Didn’t even need to light the secondary engines,” DuPont said with satisfaction.

  “Sensors, sound off and verbally identify contacts on the main board,” said the First Officer looking at the view screen.

  We were much further outside the solar system than was usual when we point transferred into a system. The Trillium deposits had almost killed us last time. We were being extra cautious how close transited to the system.

  At first, it was a tally of planets and nearby asteroids that the sensor operators threw up on the main screen. Then the sensors section showed some life.

  “I’ve got a number of shuttles around a Trillium deposit,” said one of the Sensor Operators.

  “I’ve got a Corvette paired with a Cutter, on what looks like a routine patrol arc,” chimed another.

  “First Officer, let's send out a hail and make sure everything’s been okay since we’ve been gone,” I said in what I had come to think of as my 'command voice.' Crisp, concise and essentially flat, but loud enough to be heard throughout the Bridge.

  “Yes, sir,” said Tremblay and turned to relay the orders.

  A couple minutes later and we had our answer.

  After conferring with the External Communication Technician, the First Officer turned back to the Throne. From the grin on the Ex-Com’s face, I figured it had to be good news.

  “Acting Squadron Commander Bob Kling sends his greetings and would like to let us know what a relief it is to have us back in the system again,” said the former Intelligence Officer. Despite himself, Tremblay let loose a hint of a smile as he relayed the good news.

  Smiles and one muffled cheer broke out on the bridge.

  This caused the First Officer to turn his quickly scowling face toward the happy crew, causing smiles and any tendency towards making noise disappear.

  Traveling into the Tracto System, a few things became obvious just from our sensors. The Belters, a group of Settlers saved from pirates along with two other settler ships full of Caprian and Promethean colonists, were busy setting up the beginnings of a thriving little space operation.

  With a hundred thousand colonists, and coming from a tradition of living their whole lives in orbit or spread throughout the system, that wasn’t too surprising. Living in cold space was their way, and they were as busy as possible ordering things to suit themselves.

  Originally, the Belters had been intending to settle in another system, but one look at all the mineral wealth and, more importantly, the Trillium deposits spread throughout the system and they’d all but demanded the right to settle here. Looming Bug invasion or no.

  I admit, I couldn’t quite understand the mentality, but I was happy to take advantage of it.

  The Promethean Settlement ship had been essentially destroyed by pirates, having been broken into two pieces and destroyed as a functional vessel, and they had been temporarily settled on Tracto VI, the same planet the system’s native human population inhabited. So, there was no telling how things had gone for them during the Lucky Clover’s nearly two week long absence.

  As for the Settlement ship from my native Capria, they must have successfully installed the main hyper dish I had instructed the Belters to hand over because they were long gone, and there was no sign of their giant ship anywhere in this system.

  On the surface everything looked to be on track. I would find out more when we got closer and could see things with our own eyes. But for now, I was just thankful the Bug mother ship hadn’t arrived during our absence and destroyed the colony.

  All on their own, even as industrious as they were, the Belters weren’t going to be able to produce a full-scale mining operation, let alone the sort of high tech processing facilities needed to pull out the heavy impurities in the local Trillium anytime soon. To say nothing of creating the rest of a functioning industrial base.

  No, they were all set to
work as hard scramble miners and ship their high end production out of the system. I, on the other hand, had other plans for this system and its various products.

  If I was going to stay and stop a Bug invasion armada, I was going to at least need ships, and a fleet base capable of supporting them. The ships I would have to get somewhere else, but as for the fleet base...well, if I was going to have to build something like that, it was best to do it right the first time around.

  Right now, I had visions of a major fleet operations center and repair base. Followed by a shipyard, primarily fed by the Belter’s soon to be expanded mining operation.

  All that was still far off in the future, but that’s why I had brought along the Multiplex. It was a Constructor with what we suspected was an Imperial technological database. Even if it wasn’t equipped with the valuable database, any Constructor should be able to do the initial business of jump-starting a system’s orbital infrastructure projects.

  I didn’t know how long I would have the Constructor available, so I had prepared orders that it was to focus first on creating materials to expand the mining operation so the Belters were processing enough materials to start building an orbital factory, along with the high tech trillium processing center.

  After dealing with a series of greetings from the local Belter population, there was nothing to do but wait until we hit orbit around Tracto VI.

  As soon as we were in a stable orbit, the old-style confederation Corvette Perseverance docked. Commanded by one Bob Kling, the acting Squadron Commander for the system, the little warship looked like it’d been through one heck of a fight.

  Fortunately, it didn’t look there was anything in the way of new damage from before Lucky Clover left the system. So the damage was from the Corvette's last encounter with pirates operating in another system entirely.

  After Tremblay reminded me that Captains and Commanders of other ships needed to be appropriately greeted on stepping foot onboard the Flagship, I happily delegated the job to the First Officer.

  Not looking pleased at this turn of events, the First Officer headed down the main shuttle bay to comply.

  Meanwhile, I prepared to receive the Acting Squadron Commander in the Admiral’s ready room.

  When the current Lieutenant Commander (he had been a Captain in the Caprian SDF, but was now attached to the Confederation MPF for the foreseeable future) stepped into the ready room, I rose and shook his hand. After that, I sat back behind my desk, I met the steady gaze and smiling face of the Acting Commander.

  “I take it from your demeanor, there were no significant problems during my absence,” I began. I could really use a good start, and mentally had my fingers crossed.

  “A pair of Scout Ships, but nothing we couldn’t handle. The System Defense Squadron concentrated and annihilated them before they could do more than fire some potshots at a few Belter mining shuttles,” he said, making a brush off gesture.

  “All Bug Scouts, I take it,” I asked.

  “Yes, sir, Bugs only. We’ve not seen or heard so much as a peep from anyone trying to enter or exit the system. Not since our former countrymen cleared the system,” said Kling with a shrug.

  “That’s good news. How has the squadron been doing, any problems?” I asked hopefully. So far, so good.

  “There are always a few wrinkles to be ironed out when you’re working up a ship with a brand new crew and officers. Multiply that times four for the whole squadron, and there were a few rough patches here and there. Nothing we couldn’t handle though, Sir,” said Kling.

  “Glad to hear it,” I said warmly, and then made a mental note to speak with a couple of the other ship commanders. Not Johnson on the other Corvette, he as much as admitted he wanted the Squadron Command slot during their initial meeting. One or both of the Cutter Commanders perhaps.

  “What I find more amazing than anything we’ve been doing here,” he said self-deprecatingly, “is that you returned after only two weeks in the company of an old Hammerhead Cruiser and an honest-to-Murphy Constructor ship. “The Confederation must be getting its act together more quickly than expected if they can throw that kind of support behind a new outpost like this,” Bob Kling finished, looking pleased.

  I failed to suppress the sudden urge to cough, and could feel my face reddening. After regaining control of my respiratory system, I began. “It’s a long story and I’ll let someone else fill you in with the blow by blow details. Suffice it to say, we caught a warship attempting to pirate several Spine-sponsored Constructors. One thing led to another, as you can see from the damage to our hull, and the upshot is that the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet and Tracto System have temporary access to the Constructor, named the Multiplex, for an undetermined amount of time,” I finished, feeling the color of my face returning to normal.

  “Sounds like quite a tale,” Commander Kling said with appreciation.

  I smiled thinly. “It is,” I said with perhaps too much finality. Then I gave myself a shake and looked over at the retired Caprian SDF officer.

  “Hopefully the Multiplex can help repair our ships. Not just the Flagship, but the damage to your Light Squadron as well. After which time it can start working on jumpstarting the system economy,” I explained.

  “I’m sure the Belters will be ecstatic, Admiral. I know me and my men are,” said Kling.

  “I haven’t decided completely on the issue of the Hammerhead, whether to leave it here or take with on patrol,” I mused.

  “In all seriousness, Admiral, we’re going to need everything we can scrape together when that mother ship makes an appearance. A pair of Corvettes and another pair of Cutters out on system patrol just won’t cut the mustard when the Bug heavies show up. Which they will, eventually,” said the Acting Squadron Commander his face shuttering.

  “We'll just have to make our best estimates, and if the Medium Cruiser is needed here, then she's needed here,” I said with a sigh.

  A little of the animation returned to the man's face.

  “Rest assured, Admiral, just about every man in the squadron's been studying the Bugs. It's not something intensively studied back when I was a cadet at the High Point SDF academy. They've never been seen in our sector before, or the Spine entire as far as our records show,” he said with a frown. “I think it's safe to say we've combed through every piece of information in our database, trying to turn ourselves into experts on the subject. My officers have written a number of reports on the subject of how long we have before the Bugs show up in real strength, if you are interested in looking at them,” said Commander Kling.

  Since I couldn't very well say I was too busy to look into the something that impacted the safety of every human in the solar system, or seem disinterested, I forced a smile and a nod. Even though that was the last thing I wanted to think about right now.

  What I was hearing didn't sit too well with his ideas for performing a proper interstellar patrol, but the last thing I needed was a reputation as a man disinterested in the safety of people I was pledged to protect.

  It was a shame that the universe wasn’t all nice and tidy. So that when you hauled off and saved someone, or a group of people, they stayed saved and you could just go pat yourself on the back until your arm broke. Instead, they seemed to always peskily hang around and ask for more help.

  I finally produced a real grin as I laughed at myself. 'It’s just awful, isn’t it Jason Montagne,' I thought to myself sarcastically, 'when people quite reasonably ask for you to help save them from a genocidal juggernaut headed toward the planet you went and parked them on.'

  “Forward me those reports. I know less than I should concerning the Bugs,” I said with something closer to real enthusiasm.

  “Not a problem, Sir,” replied Mr. Kling, looking appropriately pleased that his reports were being granted top priority.

  “How are things planet-side,” I asked, more than a little interested in how the colonists were faring. Did I mention that I had been studying in Colonial Administra
tion before all of this nonsense started? I have always been fascinated with the mentality required for frontier work, and I suppose studying the administrative aspects allowed me to explore the subject somewhat vicariously.

  “Oh, the wife says it’s a start up colony, there’s no mistaking that, but other than a big scare with some of those Stone Rhinos, everything seems to be working out,” said Commander Kling.

  I blinked. “I didn’t realize you were married, or that your wife was down in the surface,” I said, taken aback.

  “Oh, well there’s not much point in going off to settle a new uninhabited world if you're not planning to leave something behind for the next generation. If a man’s only in it for himself, there’s a lot more comfort to be had on an advanced world,” said Kling dismissively.

  “That’s wonderful news,” I remarked, still unsure how to process this seemingly meaningless bit of unexpected information.

  “We’ve yet to have any contact with the locals that haven’t been on our terms. When you’re limited to foot speed, it takes a while to come over and visit the neighbors. So there hasn’t been a lot trouble,” explained Kling.

  “Even still, this lack of trouble can’t be anything but to the good,” I remarked, determined not to let any rain clouds tarnish this silver lining.

  "No sir, all good so far as I'm concerned. I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule to see me, sir. And I hope those reports provide some help to your command. As for myself, I really need to get back to my squadron. We've got repairs and other logistics that I need to stay on top of." Maybe the Acting Squadron Commander sensed my mood, or maybe he’d said all he intended to and was eager to leave.

  Either way, after another handshake and the appropriate salutations, I let him return to his duties.

  Chapter 12: On the Gun Deck

  “The focusing arrays on this bank of heavy lasers need work,” Warrant Officer Lenzer said pointing out the individual turrets.

  The grey bearded Chief Gunner raised an eyebrow. “They’ve worked fine so far, during a major combat engagement and several minor skirmishes. What’s changed?”