by Chris Hechtl
“Aye aye, ma'am.”
Chapter 15
Three weeks after the first convoy had left; things were finally falling into place. Leonidas missed Captain Gutt, but he was grateful the other was gone. And he was grateful that they'd managed to send a second and third convoy out along with him.
But, it had thinned out his defenses in the system. No new arrivals had come in, and he knew some would be trickling in eventually. If they hadn't run into the plague he thought with a mental sigh and kick. He should never have gone along with the plan to spread it. He should have seen right through it. Seen it as poisoning his own well.
But he was already damned. He couldn't stop it now, but he'd damn well do his best to keep his people from spreading it among themselves.
Another blasted Fed ship had come in to replace the second. He'd pulled most of the picket back, there was no way they'd catch the little ships. Besides, if he hadn't given the order, he was fairly certain his people would have done so on their own eventually.
He'd sent Saladin out to cover the second convoy. The remaining warships were going to be under his eyes, all guarding the true prize, the yard modules. He was starting to run out of reliable people though, people he could trust for independent command. No matter. A problem to face later.
He'd sent a copy of the cures to Dead Man's Hand with their best doctor. The doctor had promised he'd find a way to make each of the cures. For his sake he'd better deliver when Black Death arrived, Leonidas thought.
Wida and her engineers had stuffed the remaining ships and the big bastard of a transport ship Captain Black had scared up. The thing was ugly, but hopefully, it'd get the job done.
One way or another they'd find out when she tried to enter hyper.
To maximize his chances he'd had the yard engineers split up between many of the ships. They could make what repairs they could while the ship was in flight. It also meant they knew their lives and the lives of their families were riding on their success.
It wasn't quite a mass exodus, but it was shaping up to one. Not quite the orderly withdrawal he'd hoped for, but he'd take what he could at this point he thought.
<()>^<()>
Commander Dolon Lycaon was intensely relieved his “wife” Wida wasn't going to make the trip on Black Death. She had elected to stay in one of the bulk freighters with some of the major factory ship components and her core people.
Her people had done what they could for the Death. She was far from what she'd once been, not quite a pale shadow but close. But, she had some weapons on both flanks once more, and all of her defenses on both flanks had been restored. Her stores were only partially recovered though.
All of her reactors, buried deep in the ship's core, had been fine. New plasma runs had been made to patch and repair old ones. The same for control, water, air, and other systems. The ship was even more of a hodgepodge of civilian and military tech than she had been before. All of her precious gun mounts had once been battlecruiser grade. Now they were a mix of types from ships right down to a frigate.
Even the counter missile launchers and missile launchers had been pulled from anything available.
Structural damage had been made good. It wasn't perfect. There were quite a few slapdash repairs and welds that hadn't been ground, but she'd hold. She'd do, and he was confident in her getting them to their new home.
She wasn't perfect, far from it. He was certain though that she'd give the feds a stiff fight and might be able to dish out a surprise or two if it came to blows again. Unfortunately, he was well aware that the feds were working on finding ways to counteract his ship.
But, that was a problem for another time and, for wiser heads than his. He could now focus on the job of an XO, managing the ship and refining her into the weapon she once was.
And, with any luck Wida would be so busy setting up her new yard there she'd completely forget about him.
He'd been tempted to try to put in for an independent command. But most of the ship commands had been prize ships for the retreat. He didn't want to be stuck on some fat half-armed or defenseless prize ship. Nay, he'd wait and bide his time the best he could.
<()>^<()>
One of his last acts in the star system was to arrange a picket at each of the jump points. None of the three captains were happy about the duty, but they understood the need to warn their ships that might still be coming in.
Once he had the three set and each had been stocked, the admiral called Brigadoon one last time. Brigadoon was a medium-sized Tauren cruiser. Her Tauren captain was solid and reliable but not very imaginative. His ship was only lightly armed, not that the enemy knew that. The other two cruisers that were to remain behind were light cruisers. “I picked you, Cap'n Hochi, because I believe I can trust you. I can do that, right?”
“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.”
“Good. See that you don't,” the lion growled, eyeing him severely. He was fairly sure that the ships would eventually leave if the Feds didn't drive them out first. They'd head to the other bases and keep a low profile for some time until they thought he'd forgotten about it.
At least, he hoped that was what they'd do. There was no profit in staying around waiting for the Feds to show up. But a few of the crews had kin still out and about.
“Stick to the code,” Captain Baker said over his shoulder. He turned to look at him, but the Neochimp had already turned away.
“I'm putting a bounty out on the first ship to bring proof they killed a navy ship. So, remember that,” the admiral said.
“Yar,” the captain replied, perking up ever so slightly.
“And, we've got the cure. We'll be manufacturing it in Dead Man's Hand. The likes of you get yours for free, mates, for doin' this service.”
“Yar,” the captain said, now standing up straight. He squared his shoulders. The admiral could just faintly pick out the buzz of people talking about what he'd just offered behind the captain.
“Yar, we appreciate it, Admiral,” the captain said with a tip of his finger to his wide brimmed hat.
“Tisn't booty, but it is life. Remember that,” the admiral said as he signed off.
“Captain,” he said sternly, turning to his Neochimp captain.
“Aye, sir. Awaiting your order, sir.”
“Then make it so.”
“Aye,” Captain Baker said as he turned to the bridge crew. “Alert the other ships. Set course for the Tau-33ZD jump point. Tis time we say good bye to this accursed system and on to another,” he growled gruffly.
The admiral tucked his hands behind him as he watched his ship get underway. The other ships in the last convoy to leave lit off their engines and followed. It was a glorious but painful sight. So many memories in Tortuga, now gone.
<()>^<()>
“There they go. The last of them are headed out to the Tau-33ZD Black Hills jump point. We've confirmed the course based on our updated navigational charts,” the navigator stated.
“Very well,” the captain rumbled in acknowledgment.
The Arboth class Commander Bentley had replaced Slash and Tear two months prior. They still had a month to go before another ship came to relieve them.
The good news was, with everyone leaving there was less risk of someone finding them. But it was getting a little boring and lonely all of a sudden. Being a cheeky rabbit dancing just out of their reach had been fun.
Even if it went against the grain for a Naga like him. A Naga was a predator; they were supposed to be the hunters not the hunted. The entire thing had seemed bizarre.
But, apparently, nothing lasts forever. The hunters had gotten tired of the chase. Now each of the three cruisers were setting up between jump points. Most likely to allow themselves to ambush or alert other ships that came in.
They might as well be sounding off alarms. They'd been so noisy setting up shop that his people had easily located them and sicced a recon drone on each. Now that they didn't need to cover Black Death they were recalling the surplus recon dron
es to be able to keep a close eye on the remaining enemy warships.
“I see that,” the Naga captain said dryly. He swiveled several eyes to his XO. “I do have eyes. But I also am not budging.”
“Sir, we could ambush one of them …”
“We're not leaving our station. It could be a trick,” Captain R'x'r'r stated. That was unusual for one of his species, but he'd been drilled to not break rank or orders unless it was for a damn good reason.
“How so, sir?”
“They could have a couple ships jump out at the far jump point while the rest loop back here. We're not going to break station and our mission orders and report it. We keep our butts here and our eyes peeled for any surprises.”
“Aye aye, sir,” the XO said dubiously.
<()>^<()>
Captain Baker looked at the video feed of the flag bridge. He noted the admiral stoically standing and watching the large monitor. He switched views and realized it was from one of the stern cameras.
The admiral was watching them leave.
All of a sudden it sank in that they were leaving Tortuga. Perhaps for the last time. Tortuga and Black Death had been his home for over a century. It had been heart-wrenching to destroy the base, and now this.
He'd love to spend some “quality time” with the bastards that had forced such changes in their lives.
<()>^<()>
Captain Dab sat back with relief. She was bone tired; the last few weeks had been a killer. She wasn't happy that they'd dropped to half rations; she'd love to have a steak, extra rare. But it was not to be.
If she'd known, that she would have left the ship in someone else's hands and taken the ride on Black Death. She knew that the admiral set a better table than what the freighter had. But she'd been so tired she hadn't thought of that.
Oh, well. Chalk it up to a minor oversight on her part. Hopefully, the only one she'd made.
She snorted at herself after a long moment. Fat chance on that.
She turned the ship's news on but noted the vid feed was of the departure. She didn't care about that. She logged in to the computer and checked out the logs and the engineering status boards. Everything was fine.
She'd need to have a plan in place to put the yard back together ASAP once they were in Dead Man's Hand. Unless of course the admiral wanted to go further. She wasn't sure about that. Once they'd started running, it might be hard to stop.
She fought a yawn but then gave up and let herself yawn. She smacked her lips and looked around, but there wasn't a drink in sight and no one to serve her one. She had her quarters to herself. Her reputation had apparently been enough to insure she had some privacy. She snorted in amusement over that.
She scanned the manifests again but her heart really wasn't in it. She felt her eyes blur and then decided enough was enough. She relaxed, stretching out fully and then let her breathing slow as she settled into a well-deserved rest.
<()>^<()>
Captain Hochi knew how the game was played. Sure, the admiral had left him and his two counterparts fully stocked up in supplies, but he'd also booby trapped the supplies in the star system. The lion had also been a bastard and hadn't warned him which were safe and which weren't.
That meant he couldn't resupply nor could the two light cruisers under his nominal command.
Which meant they had a ticking clock, one that he was all too fully aware of.
“How long do we stay?” his XO asked dubiously as they watched the plot. He asked it so softly the first time the captain didn't quite hear it. Only a repeat made the captain's torn left ear twitch toward him and then he turned his massive head as he came to a decision.
It was important to keep the crew firmly behind him. That meant he had to show obedience to the admiral's orders while also looking out for their own. Not that he had much left; none of his family had survived to get off of Tortuga.
“Call the quartermaster. Have her find out how much we've got of everything. Then work with the navigator to find out how long it'd take to get to Virgin Holes with a five percent overage.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me—supplies. Once we have the number, we'll know how long we can stay based on what's left.”
“Aye,” the XO said with a nod. “We won't be followin' the admiral's wake?”
“Nay, for he wants us to remain until we're completely drained. What then? Nay, I see to my crew first. There be no profit in stayin’ overlong. If any come after we're gone, they be on their own.”
The XO nodded. “Sharks be in the water.”
“Aye. There be sharks now. T'would be best we hunt elsewhere soon.”
Chapter 16
Dead Man's Hand
Captain Samoyd Chen was heartily glad to see the stars again as his cruiser Seydlitz wearily escorted her consort into the pirate-held star system.
Seydlitz might be an elderly Admiral Hipper class heavy cruiser with a lot of light years on her, but she was a sight better than the Tauren medium freighter, Booty'licious, they were escorting. Three jumps back the freighter had developed a harmonic in her nodes and had been forced to downgrade to the low octaves of alpha band.
Really low as in the bottom two octaves for their last jump. Which had stretched what had otherwise would have been a five-week jump into twelve. It had been agonizing and draining on both ships’ companies and their supplies.
And, no matter what the ships’ engineers or his engineers for that matter did, they couldn't nail down the root cause. Therefore, they couldn't get the ship back up to speed. There was no way, no way in hell she'd make it all the way to Tortuga.
Which had turned their long journey into an even longer and complicated one.
He turned to the XO. They had already flashed their IFF, and he was confident there wouldn't be any trouble. “Remind the crew that we may be in a friendly port but it's not what it seems. We don't need any loose tongue nor do we want them getting suspicious. If anyone can't play the game, they stay on board.”
“Aye, sir. I know the drill,” the XO said with a nod.
The captain gave him a gimlet eye. “Good. But be sure. I want the bosun on every work party. No one comes on board.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Sir, we've got a course to the port,” the navigator said.
“Understood,” he said, pitching his voice to the bridge watch. “Set course for the base. Make sure they know we are low on consumables and that the ship we're with has an engineering casualty.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Will they even care, sir?” the XO asked in a low aside.
“We're on the same side,” the captain said quietly. “Keep that firmly in mind for the time being.”
“What about that freighter. If we can't get her up to speed, are we going to leave her behind?”
“No. She's got some of our scientists on board, plus equipment and samples. We've got nondiscretionary orders to get her back to Tortuga.”
“Even if she's as slow as a turtle?”
“I think you're giving turtles a bad name; I've seen them faster than that tub,” the skipper replied. “We have to do it. Unless of course you want to see if we can find a ship to transfer them to? I'm not sure it would be a wise idea.”
“Oh, I was thinking an accident during transfer would rid us of some of the fleas, but it could be disasterous for us as well. Understood, sir.”
“Good. We'll play it by ear.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
<()>^<()>
Three days later the two ships arrived in port. By then Captain Chen was in a bad mood. His requests for supplies and engineering support had been laughed at by the base personnel. They'd openly scoffed at his duly-signed orders for support that had come from Horath.
He was ready to ream some ass but was unsure if he outranked everyone involved. And he had to be careful; the damn pirates were imposing. The last thing he wanted was for him or one of his people to get their throats ripped out or challenged to a d
eathmatch in the dome.
Dead Man's Hand lived up to its reputation. It was a dead port for the most part. It was another hollowed-out rock in an otherwise boring star system. They did have a small boneyard and prize yard, but apparently everything was supposed to be shipped to Tortuga and then on to ports closer to the capital.
The hollowed-out rock was ten kilometers in diameter and lacked the internal hollowed-out core of Tortuga. It was reportedly a warren of passages. There was no docking ring; ships making port had to park and then shuttle over.
He took Seydlitz's pinnance over with a marine detachment. He arrived in full uniform at the boat bay but there was no welcome party. As he looked around, he noted it was dim and foreboding also not well maintained. He could see some stains and patched-together hardware.
His lip curled slightly at such sights.
He nodded to the master-at-arms as the man ordered a detail to watch the shuttle. Given some of the looks by a few of the people slouching around the perimeter of the bay, it was a wise idea. There was no telling if he'd have a functional shuttle to return to if they didn't mount a guard.
When they went out into the open corridor, it was more of the same. Hoses, cables, and such were run everywhere and weren't secured. Or, in some cases they were only minimumly secured. Hatches were open as were covers. There were signs of fight damage too. He idly fingered a blaster scar. Someone had patched it but hadn't bothered to ground it down.
Sometimes he wondered if that was a thing for the Gather Fleet. Were they all slobs and lazy lay abouts? Or was this what they passed for as art? He wasn't sure.
When his eyes caught a man looking suspiciously like he wanted a handout, he went over to him. The balding man looked alarmed but then stood up straight. “You there, where is the commanding officer's office?”
“In the core. But nay go there unless you have to. What'dya need?”
“Support. Fuel, consumables, and engineering support for the ship I'm escorting.”
“Aye, best try the markets. There be some parts there, but I'd pick over them carefully.” He held a hand out, pointing in a vague direction down one corridor. “Follow the signs.”