by Damon Alan
“Forty-eight hours… that's good policy. I've never had that before.”
“Taught to me by the best captain I've ever known. Get some rest. I'm sure you're tired.”
“Just one more question, Captain?”
Sarah looked at him silently, waiting.
“Where's the zero gym?”
Sarah gestured with her free hand. “Down this corridor, take Charlie gangway aft six decks. You can't miss it.”
“Thanks.”
Sarah heard his hatch open and close behind her as she headed away.
I think he'll do.
* * *
14 HUNI 15326
It was frustrating how long upgrades were taking for the Stennis and how long her ship was in spacedock. She sat in Admiral Heyden's office expressing her discontent. “I don't like this. We've been in port a year and a half.”
Heyden looked across his desk at her. “Doesn't matter what you like. Matters what I like. I don't like the last service inspection the Stennis had, so he's getting a bottom to top refit.”
“In the interim, my people are starting to think the war's over,” Sarah protested. “I mean, we drill every day, but that's not the same.”
Commander Gilbert sat next to her, nodding his head in support.
Heyden looked at Gilbert in disbelief. “Do you ever disagree with her, Commander Gilbert?” Heyden tapped the Admiral cluster on his shoulder.
“Absolutely sir. The other day the Captain asked me to only eat two hard boiled eggs for breakfast, but I ate seven. Something about my personal odor, but I didn't smell anything. That's the limit of our disagreements, sir. A good XO stands with his captain.”
The Admiral stared at Gilbert a moment. “You two deserve each other. I see that now.”
Gilbert smiled. “Thank you, sir.”
Sarah elbowed Gilbert in the side before pushing her topic with the Admiral. “The Stennis isn't leading the only idle fleet. Most of the battlegroup has been sitting in orbit.”
Heyden shook his head. “Galaxies, you're stubborn.”
“Why do I think the Stennis got a refit as much to chain me down as to bring him up to modern standards?”
Sarah waited for the Admiral's reply. Heyden didn't answer, he just looked at her grimly.
Sarah pressed, she couldn't help it. “As I was saying… we should have been hitting Hive targets while the bastards were weak after Lirizam. We must have obliterated most of the enemy ships in this sector. Even the Hive can only make vessels at a certain rate. If we'd pushed them, maybe we could have turned the tide of the war in our area.”
Her boss stood up and paced. She sensed a brooding anger from him.
He looked out the windows of his office silently for a moment. Andulmar flourished below him, factories churning, midnight oil burning. “We can't attack without rearming, Captain. We have some munitions, and a few more are trickling in. But we're burning through nukes faster than the factories can make them. Even worse, Command has been redirecting a lot of our munitions to the adjacent sectors. They don't have a success like we did at Lirizam, so they're still being pushed hard. Command is looking at the lull in the battle here as an opportunity to resupply other sectors.”
Sarah clenched the fist that she had on the table. “The Hive won't stop building ships, sir. They're rearming in our sector even as we speak. And they don't have idiotic bureaucrats slowing their process to a crawl.”
The admiral sighed before turning back to face her. “Subtle, as always, Captain Dayson.”
Sarah pressed him again. “We are wasting an opportunity, Admiral. The Thirty-First Battlegroup did what nobody has done for over a century. Because the idiots in charge only think defensively when they think about distributing weapons, the worst battlegroup in the Alliance gets higher priority than ours?”
The Admiral shrugged his shoulders. “I hear exactly what you're saying, Sarah. I do. Off the record I might even agree with you. But our battlegroup doesn't own this planet. We're just based here.”
Sarah held on like a bulldog. “We've proven our abilities. Command thinks we caught a break. We made a break. We know how to use those weapons. We should be top of the damned list.”
“Admiral…” Gilbert said.
“Yes, yes, Commander. I'll tell her.” Heyden opaqued the windows of his office, then pushed a few more buttons that had no visible effect. Sarah assumed they were privacy fields. “With the help of your XO, I've arranged to acquire a few weapons.”
Sarah looked at Gilbert, surprised. “How so?”
“This stays in this room. Agreed?”
Sarah's eyes narrowed at Gilbert accusingly. She didn't like secrets. She looked at Heyden. “Agreed.”
“Do you think I don't feel chained? I understand exactly what you're saying. Our ships need resupplied now. So there might be a slight mixup in the delivery schedule for nukes from Mindari factories. A bulk freighter on the way to pick them up might also accidentally have been rerouted to a different sector. And if the freighter doesn't show up, then we'll use those weapons for our battlegroup.”
Sarah smiled slyly and looked at Gilbert. “How fortuitous.”
“And, it is was supposed to pick up extra grapplers, G-Ks, and other supplies. Seems all that stuff is staying here by mistake, so we should put it to use.”
“Okay, Admiral. That's really sticking your neck out. Why?”
“Because intel says your worst case is happening.” Heyden pulled something off a shelf then tossed a file across the desk to Sarah. “The Hive are building up huge fleets in the systems they control in these sectors. Scouts, your friend Sachelle being one of them, are giving us numbers I wouldn't believe if they didn't come from my people. If we're not rearmed, we'll have to let the next system they attack fall without defending it. In my opinion that violates the Alliance founding documents.”
Sarah frowned. Looking at the numbers in the file, she saw the Hive weren't beaten down at all. “Do you have any idea what system the Hive is targeting?”
“Hamor. Based upon the distribution patterns of the Hive ships, we think Hamor.”
Sarah tossed the file back on the desk. “What's the plan?”
Admiral Heyden picked up the file and tapped it in the palm of his hand. “Again, this doesn't leave this office. But once the word comes the freighter isn't going to make it here, we reload, refuel, and head to Hamor with the entire battlegroup. We'll be ready.”
Sarah wanted to hug Gilbert for his part in this. “I need more grapplers for the Yascurra and the Samville,” she said.
Heyden seemed confident. “You'll have them.”
“Is everything we need for our battlegroup supposed to go out on that freighter?”
“Just about. A lot of it's assembled in warehouses near the spaceport. We're short antimatter, as always. Tandella Station makes it as fast as they can, and anything they have above quota is ours. But it's not like they're making steel. It's touchy.”
Sarah understood that. Antimatter wasn't a trifling thing, as she'd learned the hard way. A pound of the stuff, in contact with regular matter, contained nearly twenty megatons of explosive power. The Stennis ate at least two tons with each jump. The equivalent of eighty billion tons of TNT. “My jump tanks are empty. How much will we have?”
Sarah didn't like what Heyden said next. “You'll have enough for the jump into Hamor, four or five jumps in system, and a jump back to Mindari. That's all any of the fleets will have. Even the Binogi will be limited.”
Gilbert whistled. “Wow, sir, that's a huge problem.”
Heyden wasn't any happier about it than they were. “Could be. I can't wish antimatter into our containment bottles.”
Dwelling on the unchangeable would do no good for anyone. “I know, Admiral. I know. Gilbert and I will work on a plan for the Stennis to maximize his punch while limiting the jumps.”
Heyden stood. That always meant the meeting was about over. “If we can do at Hamor what we did at Lirizam V, we'll change
the Hive war for good in this sector. I feel it. So get your fleet ready. As soon as I give the signal, we're on our way.”
Sarah stood as well, followed by Gilbert. “Once our last missile tube is filled and the tanker squirts us a bit of antimatter, we'll be ready.”
Admiral Heyden shook their hands. “I'll give you the word. When I do, we rush to business.”
“Thanks, Admiral.”
Gilbert followed her out the door.
* * *
23 GUSTA 15326
Sarah broadcast on the fleet intercom.“We have orders to depart. We jump in two days, as soon as all personnel return from the surface. Captains, have your ships at the ready. We're fully loaded with spares in the cargo holds for a change. Let's take advantage of the situation. Dayson out.”
Sarah looked over at Gilbert, floating tethered to his station. “Thanks, Commander.”
Gilbert looked surprised. “For what?”
“For whatever you did to the schedule for the freighter. For the admiral. If you're going to cheat the system for someone and stick your neck out like that, he's worth it.”
“Pfffft, If I did do anything, I'd have done it for you too,” Gilbert answered. “You know, chain of command and all that.”
“So why didn't you tell me?”
“The admiral ordered me not to. Said if it didn't work out, you'd be crushed.”
“For the record, I wouldn't. I'm patient when it comes to killing Hive.”
“He knows you better than I do, but I guess I'm about to find out what you're made of.”
Sarah grinned. “You most certainly are.”
Chapter 38 - Captain's Personal Log
21 ORS 15326
AI Lucy82A recording, Captain’s personal log, Michael Stennis archive: Galactic Standard Date 18:18:32 Ors 21, 15326
Personal log entry #614, Captain Sarah Dayson, origin Korvand, Pallus Sector.
Current Location: Hamor orbit
Tonight I engage in my pre-battle rituals, the ones that people do to make outrageous tasks seem mundane. We've been waiting for most of a month for the Hive to come to Hamor. They've come, and conflict will begin in earnest late tomorrow.
As always, I record this journal in case I don't survive the battle. And, as Dr. Jannis can't quit reminding me, I hole up in my cabin and drink wine. She's been harassing me for weeks now to come down to medbay for a check up. “Your liver will thank you personally,” she says. It annoys me that she is the one person on this ship who can derail my career if she chooses. Complaining to the Admiral to enforce alcohol rules on warships doesn't make that any better, either. At least he ignores her, like he ignores his doctor about cigars.
[AI note: Alcohol on Alliance warships violates regulation 12-347-1.6B]
The new XO seems to be working out just fine. He managed to get on the Admiral's good side too, which only helps the Seventh Fleet. I feel strange calling Peter Corriea, our navigator, new. This is his first mission however, despite being with us for a year now. I miss Qabri, but Corriea has been a perfect replacement. I've even transferred weapons to him, freeing Harmeen up to make sure the Stennis is running in top shape.
[short laughter]
Drinking… well, that's my pre-battle ritual. I think most of us have things we do in these moments of stress. Comfort in familiarity.
Lieutenant Harmeen has Bunduism and is probably off praying to some imaginary being.
Lieutenant Seto has her meditation.
[a snort]
Word is Commander Gilbert is in the shuttle hangar, fist fighting in a gambling competition with his brothers, the marines. He's really bonded with the company of marines we have on board. The gambling, of course, violates Alliance regs, so I won't be attending. But my marines are starting to feel like part of the crew, and that's something that's never happened before. He's shaping up to be a good first officer, and that's important.
I bet the junior marines are loving a chance to punch the Commander in the face.
[a nasal noise, AI estimates 78% probability of a short laugh, and an attempt to suppress it.]
Hopefully not to the point of injury. Maybe I should rat him out to the doctor and she can ride his ass instead of mine.
The Hive scouts have come and gone. The first enemy fleet dropped out of highspace a few hours ago. The Seventh Fleet has been ordered to guard Hamor in close orbit. This system is heavily populated, so the battle group is spread out more than I like. We have other fleets with us here, however. Protecting this planet is job one.
The enemy fleet is decelerating into the system. Corriea says it will take them seventeen hours to match velocities with Hamor and jump to us. I'll work off my hangover by then. If the bastards come to Hamor, we'll be ready.
[sound of a cooler opening, a popping noise as a seal is broken]
Here's a toast to Commander Gilbert's face, fucking pretty boy.
This's really good wine, despite being in these damned squeeze pouches. Good thing I bought a lot of it.
[eight second pause]
Rituals make us human.
[142 second pause, air sensors indicate blood alcohol content of Fleet Captain Sarah Dayson, current mass 57.5 kilograms to be .14%]
After what happened at Korvand, I have no greater fear than becoming something no longer human. My crew have become my family. I love them, and would lay down my life for any of them. They don't know that, of course. Outside of the bridge crew many of them think I'm some sort of high command automaton. And that's okay.
It's also my duty… and to be honest, my purpose to kill as many of the enemy as I can. Sadly, it's rare when these two duties are not in mutual conflict.
[thirty-one second pause, broken by a sigh at twenty-three seconds]
I have a secret. I keep a list of all the crewmen I've lost. I print it out and I stuff it into the first warhead we plan to launch. I slipped it inside that warhead earlier tonight. Yes, yes, regulations, blah, blah, blah. If the pencil pushers don't like it, they can get their butts out here on the line and ask me to stop in person. Even if they did ask, I started on the Teplo, and only death or retirement can stop me now.
When that first nuke detonates, I like to think I've given the dead a bit of justice. I'm told no leader can guarantee survival to their crews, but I think that's bullshit we captains tell ourselves to massage away the guilt. There's always a right move, if the battle is read correctly. Maybe not one that saves everyone, but one that sacrifices the least. But I'm human, and more deaths will come. Probably soon.
[eight minute twelve second pause, interspersed with sounds of eating and drinking, as well as sounds AI estimates 72% probability indicates perusal of personal artifacts]
I'm a legend in the Alliance. I've survived nineteen major engagements in eight years. People ask to be on my crew at the top of their assignment lists.
[popping sound, AI estimates 94% probability a new wine pouch is opened]
Flattering, I suppose. But I'm here to kill Hive, survive, and kill Hive again, not provide a safe assignment.
At first my crew was the benefi... beni... they made out because of my desire to survive to fight again. The killing machine I became after I lost my family is what the Alliance wants in a fleet captain. That's not who I am. I think I'm starting to regain some of my humanity.
[Thirteen second pause]
Usually I cry alone in my quarters after a battle, and I'm usually drunk. Drunk makes recovering from the losses easier to be honest. They can grow me a new liver later, Dr. Jannis. Bitch. Won't be the first time nanites patch up the killer of their brethren.
I promise to get my boys and girls home to their families. But they die and more come to die next battle. We're a death assembly line.
But I still stuff that list into that warhead, and make new promises.
[forty seconds of silence, a sniff, sound AI estimates 63% probability to be forced cough]
We might just win this one like we did at Lirizam.
[a yawn, foll
owed by a fifty-seven second pause, then a voice twelve decibels weaker]
That will be refreshing.
[frequent sounds of rustling cloth, snoring, and the word “no” uttered twice. Alarm sounds at end of six hours followed by ten minutes of noise indicating typical morning preparation]
Shit my head hurts. I left that thing recording? Lucy, transmit recording via military net six to my personal archives on Essamir IV. If no further entries are made within five months, instruct the archive AI to surrender the full contents to Alliance Command as per previous instructions.
[AI voice, Lucy82A reports understanding and compliance]
Recording is complete and date stamped, Captain Dayson. Please acknowledge temporary lifting of AI shackle to allow use of ship transmission capabilities.
[Fleet Captain Sarah Dayson's voice responds]
Permission granted, Lucy, for the duration of this transmission. End Log.
[end recording]
Chapter 39 - Battle of Hamor
22 ORS 15326
Sarah studied the main view screen. A gigantic new display wrapped around the bridge in a one hundred and eighty degree arc, displaying live views of the outside of the ship as well as ship telemetry. Sarah liked the upgrade, but it made what was happening below all too clear. Her exterior demeanor remained calm, but inside her rage boiled as she absorbed the significance.
Hamor's daylight terminus passed below, and a world once lit with the glow of civilization was now lit only by the deep oranges and reds of nuclear firestorms.
The Hive didn't colonize Hamor. They incinerated it.
An explosion rocked the Stennis, pulling Sarah's thoughts back to her duties. She responded calmly to the strike on her ship. “Status, Lieutenant Harmeen?”
“Debris, Captain. Struck a forward armor plate. No internal damage.”
Well armored, newly refitted and built to contain the raw power of a gravitational singularity, the Stennis was capable of taking a beating and fighting on. Sarah patted the metal frame of her gravity couch.