Salvage Fleet

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Salvage Fleet Page 11

by Kevin Steverson


  “Defensive Bridge to flight operations,” Clip ordered. “Have all fighters engage the enemy fighters. Run ’em down, Dude.”

  “This is flight ops,” the flight officer called from the flight deck. “Roger, sir.”

  “Sir, Cube has now launched from all four sides,” tactical announced. “Less than one minute until the first salvo impacts. The ships are engaging with their defensive lasers and trying to evade.”

  “Man…they’ll never stop two hundred missiles,” Clip said. “Not with just two ships; they’re through.”

  “We’re still rotating,” Mike announced from Cube, “but I’ll hold the next salvo of missiles until the first hits. They’re not cheap.”

  “That was ugly,” Bradford said just a minute later. “Not even the Smilps could fix those ships.”

  The two Squilla ships managed to stop more than a quarter of the incoming missiles, which was actually impressive. They were not as fast as the missiles Salvage Title carried, but it was still impressive. True to Clip’s word, though, they were through. After the Merwick missiles did their job, there was hardly anything worth salvaging. There were no escape pods.

  “Alright,” Marteen said over the fighter’s internal channel. “There they are. Alpha, Bravo, take the wings. We’ll do this in a wedge formation…Charlie Four…what are you doing? Get back in…Charlie Three, stop rolling…what the…”

  Hank and Stan were both flight leaders now, and Alpha and Bravo flights took out a majority of the Squilla fighters. Their speed and maneuverability overmatched their opponents easily. But even the brothers were impressed with the moves the four Bentwick fighters were pulling. The human fighters were not as fast as the Sleek fighters, but the Smilps flying them could turn them like the G-forces were no big deal. It was easy for them to turn inside the Squilla fighters in the dog fights. It was over fairly quickly.

  “This is flight ops,” the flight deck called. “All fighters returning. There are no casualties, and only minor damage on two Sleek fighters.”

  “Right on, Dude,” Clip answered. “Bring ’em in.”

  “Wait…what are you doing, Charlie Five?” Marteen called over the fighter’s comms. “No! Charlie Flight…go to your own ship! Stop following me! What the…”

  Jayneen started laughing out loud, and every head in both bridges looked up. The AI had been monitoring all the calls made during the battle. After giggling, something Harmon never thought he would hear from the AI, she replayed the calls from Marteen to his flight team throughout the battle to the entire ship. Even Kyla hissed with laughter, deep in the power plant.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Seventeen

  The bridge of Windswept was silent. Lieutenant Evelyn Stacey sat in the commander’s seat with hot tears running down her cheeks. She continued to stare at the frozen image on the main screen. Every bridge crew member was looking at her, not wanting to look at the image on the screen. She looked around through her tears at her crew…her beings, at the Leethog, Human, Prithmar, and lone Caldivar and whispered, “Get me security.” Nine beings quickly reached for their comms at once.

  Gunny Harper and Sergeant Clyde stepped into the bridge one after another. They had been several decks below in the ship’s gym, working out with their security platoon. They walked in to see Evelyn with her head down and her face in her hands. Lieutenant JoJo Whaley was on her knees beside the commander’s chair, brushing Evelyn’s hair back and whispering to her.

  On the screen was a frozen image of a boy about the age of ten. He had a black eye and a bruised, swollen lip. The child appeared to be chained to a bedpost in a small room. The first thing Gunny noticed about the image was the boy looked strikingly like Lieutenant Stacey. He felt an icy rage building.

  Gunny looked at JoJo and asked, “Ma’am, what’s going on?”

  Evelyn looked up at him and said, “They have my brother, Milton.”

  “Who. Are. They?” the retired gunnery sergeant asked, furious for what they had done to the boy. Furious at whoever had made his commander this upset. His fists were balled at his side. Somebody…or something, would pay dearly.

  “Oh, Frost no! Frooost. No!” exclaimed Clyde loudly. The sergeant began pacing quickly back and forth. Clyde, like most Pikith, liked to pace and talk quickly aloud to himself when he was thinking or figuring out a problem. “Some sand sucker is going to die! You hear me? I know they did not snatch a child.” He had no idea who did it, but he was ready to fight.

  “Commander Fritz,” JoJo said.

  “Fritz? Commander Fritz?” Gunny asked. “Military Intelligence Fritz. That Fritz?”

  “Yes,” answered Evelyn, wiping her eyes. The time for tears was over. Now it was time to act.

  “Sergeant, instruct the security platoon to gear up for planet-side action,” Gunny told Clyde.

  “Roger that, Gunny,” Clyde said, and ran out of the room.

  Gunny reached over and used the comm on the commander’s seat. “Security to Flight Ops,” he said.

  “What’s up, Gunny?” Twiggy drawled. “Why are you using Evelyn’s comms? Did she leave you in charge of the ship? If she did…can I get some planet leave? I have a hankering for some of my Ma’s cooking.”

  Windswept was orbiting Tretra with the rest of the ships brought in from the Grithelaon system. The ships were preparing for maneuvering drills and mock battles with the Tretrayon Defense Fleet over the next week. The TDF Fleet now consisted of four TDF ships and four captured Squilla ships, including a Squilla troop carrier. It was now named the TDF Conversion. For the last few weeks, major work had been done to its bay. Originally it was designed to hold ten Squilla dropships. The shipyard had converted the bay to handle the TDF fighters, since their fighter carrier had been destroyed.

  “Prepare all four of the mechs for battle, Lieutenant. Top off the cell charge and jump fuel on all of them,” Gunny said. Technically, Twiggy outranked Gunny because he was an officer, but when it came to security, Gunny was in charge through the positional authority he held.

  “I’m on it,” Twiggy said immediately. “I’ll get the dropship ready, too.”

  Windswept now had a dropship. It was an older model brought out from the warehouse of the military museum on Tretra, but it was still in good shape after its restoration. It, and four others like it, had been brought out of retirement. Most of the museum displays, both for the fleet and the ground forces, had been repaired, rebuilt, recommissioned, and pressed back into action. Even the retired commander running the museum had been brought out of retirement and was now the commandant at the Academy.

  Lieutenant Evelyn Stacey took a deep breath, sat up straight, and commanded the comms officer, “Replay the message.”

  It came up on the screen. “Lieutenant Stacey, I’m sending you this so you’ll deliver a message. I’ve included a little…shall we say, incentive,” Commander Fritz said. “You’ll inform Harmon Tomeral that he will endorse me for system president in the upcoming special elections. He will also endorse whomever I decide should hold other relevant offices throughout the Tretrayon system, to include the position of president of Joth. Should he decide not to do as I have instructed...these two people will die, and that’s just the beginning. I trust I make myself clear? Should the particulars of this message and/or my involvement of the abductions get into the public eye, the two people will die. Defend the system. Endorse me. That is all.”

  The image went from Commander Fritz to a picture of Rinto, laying on a small bed, chained at the ankle. His mechanical arm had been dismantled and removed at the elbow. The upper portion was still in place, with wires and small parts hanging. The next picture was the frozen image of Milton, Evelyn’s brother, the same image that had been on the main screen when Gunny and Clyde walked onto the bridge.

  “JoJo, see if you can direct connect to Salvage Title on a secure transmission,” Evelyn directed. “You’re going to have to put a twist on it so Fritz and her cronies don’t intercept it.

  Ensign Sh
aith, the comms officer, stood and offered her seat to JoJo. Most messages sent through the gates were not face to face, and it was very expensive. Ensign Shaith, a Pikith, had been the comms officer for a large trading company before coming back home to Joth and signing on with Tomeral and Associates, and had never had the opportunity; this was something new for her, and she was glad to watch and learn.

  JoJo thought for a moment, going over the procedure in her mind. Advanced Communications 401 was a class she had taken in her senior year at the academy, and it had been a while since she had performed the simulations. She remembered she could use the fact Windswept and Salvage Title used the same type of communication computers. She could take advantage of that and create a secure connection that no other ship but one with the same core programming could intercept. She accessed the Net and began.

  * * *

  “Sir, I have a secure direct connect from the bridge of Windswept,” the comms officer of Salvage Title said, turning and looking at Harmon. It was unusual, and the comms officer’s expression and body language indicated so.

  Harmon turned from his conversation with Mike and Bradford. Zerith was showing Clip the installations in the console he had made for the automated mine ships, and Clip was setting up the software. Mike and Mike had dealt with many different ships through the last few years in their business, but had never seen a truly automated system like the mine ships had. Harmon had invited them over to tour Salvage Title and had been explaining how he planned to use the mine ships.

  “Really? Put it on the main screen, Jim,” Harmon said.

  On the main screen, sitting in the command chair on the bridge of Windswept was Evelyn, surrounded by JoJo, Gunny, and Clyde. Her eyes were still red from crying, and Harmon could tell something was not right by the expressions on her crew’s face. Time stopped for a moment, and a dozen thoughts ran through Harmon’s mind. None of them were good.

  “Harmon,” she said softly. “They have Milton and Rinto. They’re holding them so I’ll deliver this message to you.”

  Over to the side, Clip stood, and he and Zerith stepped closer to the screen. There was silence on the bridge, and Big Jon walked over to stand beside his captain.

  Harmon felt anger, fear, and the need for vengeance at the same time. His mind was already running the time calculations to the Tretrayon system through the gates, and he had yet to find out who “they” were, or the message Evelyn was supposed to deliver.

  “Who has them, Evelyn?” Harmon asked. “What’s the message?”

  “Commander Fritz and her people,” Evelyn answered, her voice gaining strength. “She said if you don’t endorse her in the upcoming special election for system president, they’ll die.”

  “Fritz? Fleet Intel Fritz?” Harmon asked.

  “The very same,” Evelyn said. “Her instructions to you were to defend the system and endorse her, or those two people will die, and that’s just the beginning.”

  “She probably threatened to do it if word got out about her little scheme, too,” Clip said icily. Rinto was the closest thing he and Harmon had to a father. He grabbed his slate and his fingers flew.

  “Jayneen,” Clip said out loud. “Help me get through to the intel satellites around Tretra. I don’t care what it costs or whose systems we have to route through. We need to see what’s happening. And trace that message, would you? It’s easy enough to do.”

  “Thiss iss going to cossst ssomeone, and it won’t be creditss, I promisse you,” Zerith said, his tail waving slowly, deliberately. He put down the piece of fruit he had been eating.

  “From here, it’s six days through the gates and four more to the planet,” Harmon said. “Gunny?” Harmon let the question hang without actually asking.

  “Sir, I have the four mechs topping off fuel and power cells,” Gunny said. “We now have a dropship. She’s old, but she’s in good shape. The security platoon is gearing up as well. You just say the word and point us in the right direction, and we’ll get them back.”

  “Between Clip and Jayneen, we’ll find the location and see what we can find out about the security around it,” Harmon declared, looking over at Clip. Clip raised his hand with a thumb up without looking away from his slate. Harmon knew he and Jayneen were onto something already.

  “Roger, sir,” Gunny said. “We’ll be ready. I don’t advise sending in more than the dropship can carry. The second Fritz thinks we’ve notified anyone, it’ll be too late to rescue them.”

  “I agree,” Harmon said. “Evelyn, you and JoJo are going to have to scout it out once you’re on the ground. Twiggy and Gunny will be in their mechs as well. Clyde can lead the platoon. Who do you have that can fly that dropship? I mean really fly it?”

  “Major Audell flew it to us from Tretra. He’s spending some time in our fighter bay before he catches a shuttle back tomorrow,” JoJo answered. “I can bring him to the bridge, and we can get him in on this discretely.”

  “He’s a good choice,” Harmon agreed. “We’ll contact you shortly, once we have it figured out.”

  “Evelyn?” Harmon asked, looking directly into her eyes from many, many systems away. “It’s not going to be easy, but I need you to be a scout first and a sister second. I’m also going to ask you to trust your senior NCO to lead the assault. I need you to be a scout, not the platoon leader. We only have the two scout mechs, and I need you and JoJo working as an observation team. You’ll have to hold your emotions in check until they’re both safely away from there. Then you can bring all frost down on their heads.”

  “I can do that,” Evelyn said, her voice strong. She trusted Harmon and his planning, no matter how far away he was.

  * * * * *

  Chapter Eighteen

  “It looks like you have some planning to do,” Mike said. “I think Bradford and I should head back over to Cube.”

  “Yeah, after y’all rescue them, I hope y’all catch the rat-bastards that did it,” Bradford said. “Anybody that hurts and kidnaps a young’un needs killin’.”

  “Thanks for helping us take out that Squilla task force,” Harmon said. “I’ve got skeleton crews on the destroyers now, and my senior power plant and engine technician both affirm they’re good to go, so when you get back over there, they should be ready to exit the bay with the shuttles attached.”

  “We’ll handle it,” Mike said, holding out his hand. “Good luck with everything.”

  “Appreciate it,” Harmon answered, shaking his hand and then reaching for Bradford’s.

  “Save the kid and the old man, and kick some Squilla ass,” Bradford said, shaking Harmon’s hand.

  As they walked off the bridge, Harmon heard Bradford ask Mike, “So, do Squillas have asses? Nobody ever said…and what’s up with that Jayneen? I never got to meet her, but she sounded hot.”

  Harmon shook his head and smiled a little, even with the serious situation. Old school non-commissioned officers; they would say whatever they felt anytime they felt like it, but their experience was more than worth the occasional eyebrow-raising statement. It was too bad those two veterans weren’t looking for a job; he would have hired them on the spot.

  Twenty minutes later, Harmon was looking at an image on the bridge’s main screen of a farm on Tretra. It was located seventy miles away from the Staceys’ farm. Jayneen had been able to follow the trail of computer relays and servers to a system located on the farm. The attempt to cover the trail had been good. Very good. But given the experience Clip had in getting into the Tretrayon Fleet’s system, and Jayneen’s processing speed, it had been relatively simple for the two of them.

  Once the location had been pinpointed, Clip hacked the intelligence satellites and zoomed in on the farm. They now had some video footage and still photos of the area, and Harmon was deciding the best approach for the rescue attempt.

  “What do you see, Big Jon?” Harmon asked the staff sergeant.

  “Two as a roving team,” observed Big Jon. “Two more at the front gate. I see a hover tank p
arked out front, but I can’t tell if it is crewed or just parked. The video showed four beings go into the building in the rear. That’s at least eight so far.”

  “That’s what I counted,” Harmon said. “That tells me there’s at least a platoon-sized element. They need at least twenty troops to have a decent shift rotation, not to mention a few inside their operations center watching the feed from any surveillance they’ve got set up.”

  “Jayneen,” Harmon said, “Can you get Windswept back on a secure direct connect?”

  Moments later, Harmon was looking at Evelyn, JoJo, Twiggy, Major Audell, Gunny, and Clyde standing on the bridge of Windswept. Harmon wished he could be there with them so he could go on the mission he was about to send them on.

  “Alright, here’s what we have,” Harmon said. Instead of both bridges looking into each other on their main screen, both screens now showed a still photo of the target location.

  “It looks similar to my parents’ farm,” Evelyn said. “Only it’s not a working farm.”

  “It isn’t?” Harmon asked.

  “Yep, she’s right,” Twiggy agreed. “Look at those hay bales. There’s grass growing right out of ’em.”

  “And there is no livestock,” Evelyn said. “There’s grass growing in the pen in front of that barn.”

  “Good catch,” Harmon said. “I didn’t notice that. I was looking at the troop placement and the avenues of approach. That means we won’t have to worry about the family who owns it getting hurt.”

  “It may be an established safehouse. If it is, the group Fritz has built around her has been planning this since the Squilla invasion.” Clip said.

  “I estimate a platoon-sized element,” Harmon said. “Four beings on perimeter guard at all times. Two are roving, and two remain near the front gate.”

  “What about that hover tank?” Gunny asked. “Any indication on whether it stays fully crewed?”

 

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