by P P Corcoran
“Yep.” Replied Robert moving his gaze to somewhere else in the crowded room before the Alonan noticed she was subject of Robert’s attention. “Arrived unannounced yesterday morning and virtually demanded a private tour. ONI nearly had kittens. They were running around like a bunch of headless chickens until they could find an escort of equivalent rank up here to play babysitter.”
Looking beyond the Alonan major, Kaitlin spotted an uncomfortable looking middle-aged woman in the uniform of a major of the Janus Ground Forces. Its dark brown coloring sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the gathered naval uniforms though, thought Kaitlin with passing irony, the dark brown color of the ground forces officer was a near perfect match for the mud brown which was the standard uniform color of the entire Alonan military.
“I take it Elizabeth was not best impressed that her own people had not been able to give her a heads up to the Alonan’s impending arrival.”
Robert let out a small, snorting laugh. “If I know my wife, I think we can be fairly certain that the wording of the signal she sent off to Waypoint 4 would have left them in no uncertainty as to her displeasure.”
Kaitlin’s lips twitched into an involuntary smile as her mind conjured a picture of the sprawling Commonwealth naval station that had started life as a simple search and rescue base positioned on the long shipping route between the Commonwealth and the Alonan Empire. However, with the growing animosity between the two-star nations, Waypoint 4 had taken on a more militarized role. It was now the home of a Commonwealth Battle Force and all the support elements such a large group of warships required to sustain it as well as being a hub of commerce and immigration. As such, the Alonan Liaison Officer would have been processed through the station and should have immediately raised a red flag alerting their final destination as to their flight plans. For the Alonan to turn up at Janus without ONI being forewarned had been an oversight that Kaitlin was sure had earned some poor soul a few choice words screamed in whatever their particular species used as an ear drum.
“So, when do I get my tour of your new flagship Robert?”
In response Robert cocked his head in the direction of the prematurely balding figure of Thomas Crothers. “When my boss says so.”
Thomas Crothers, President of Janus, was surrounded on all sides by clucking politicos from various Commonwealth nations while flanking him, attached by invisible umbilical cords, were Chin Lee, the Presidents Chief of Staff, and Rayner Vargas. The imposing Janus National Security Adviser had somehow managed to displace his own Secretary of Defense who had every right to bathe in the spotlight at the launching of the Vigilant. Instead, said secretary was ensconced in an animated conversation with his opposite numbers from Pars, Garunda, Benii and, of course, Earth.
Robert and the rest of the fledgling Janus Space Navy were under no illusions that, although the Commonwealth navies were pleased to see Janus beginning to shoulder the burden of its own defense, Earth in particular was a little put out that Robert had insisted that their current Commonwealth partners have restricted access to the more sensitive areas of Vigilant. Inevitably this caused some ruffled feathers within the TDF as some asked who these upstarts thought they were. When Robert’s decision had been escalated up to cabinet and finally presidential level Thomas Crothers had sided with Robert. As the President pointed out, the Commonwealth may be Janus’ brothers in arms at the moment however, that may not always remain the same. To reinforce his point the President cited the TDF’s decision not to share its Mosquito space fighter technology with the other nations of the Commonwealth. The JSN’s Bureau of Design had implemented its own crash program to design and build an equivalent to the Mosquito based on the original Benii space fighter, the Freiba. Even with the aid of Benii experts the JSN was still months away from anything even resembling an initial production model. The TDF’s decision was perhaps a minor inconvenience as the Benii were more than willing to share their fighter technology with other Commonwealth navies but the precedent had been set and Crothers had decided to use Roberts decision to make a statement to Janus’ closest allies. Janus was no longer a colony she was the mistress of her own destiny.
A change of status that Robert was constantly forced to remind himself during his conversation with Kaitlin. A women Robert considered a friend however, as Robert’s wife Elizabeth had pointed out on more than one occasion, Kaitlin was still an officer of another nations navy and it would be remiss of her not to squeeze, in the most polite of ways of course, every piece of intelligence she could about the Vigilant and her planned sister ships.
“In fact, Kaitlin.” Said Robert as he focused on his fellow admiral. “Why don’t you join Elizabeth and I for dinner tonight aboard. I’ve been wanting to show off my luxurious and extravagant admiral’s quarters and see if all the hype about my personal chef is true or just hot air. And, of course, it would be rude of me not to include a small tour.”
Kaitlin raised her glass and gave him a mock salute. “Now how could I refuse an offer to compare my paltry quarters to your no doubt palatial rooms.”
Robert’s own glass raised in salute as they both let out a conspiratorial chuckle.
Beyond the triple glazed armor glass Vigilant maneuvered side on giving the thronging room its first clear view of the battleships side belt. Missile hatches, Close-In-Weapon System hubs and the larger, bulbous protrusions with laser and graser snouts jutting from them like the spines of a porcupine. As Kaitlin’s eyes ran the length of the ship, she gave a small grunt of admiration. Reaching Vigilant’s stern her gaze fell upon the six projecting weapons pylons. An innovation of the JSN which her own TDF were examining closely for incorporation in their next generation ship the weapons pylons were inspired by those found on Turak warships.
Every Turak ship so far encountered by the Commonwealth had weapons pylons which extended away from the ships central core and, at their outermost point held heavy grasers which could be swiveled forward or aft depending on the threat axis. The JSN had tweaked the idea to suit their own needs. While retaining Vigilant’s heaviest weapons on its outer hull like any conventional human warship, Janus had equipped the pylons with rearward facing missile tubes and CWIS providing Vigilant with an extremely effective aft defensive screen compared to standard warships which relied on what weaponry could be placed between the exterior plasma engine nozzles. A simple but elegant solution which many a ship designer back on Earth was kicking themselves for not thinking of first.
Where all these design innovations had a perfectly logical explanation Kaitlin’s examination of the Vigilant inevitably drew her attention to the thing which had TDF designers baffled. Along both flanks of the Vigilant ran a series of equidistant doors. Ten to each flank with two matching doors at the root of the uppermost weapons pylons where they joined Vigilant’s main hull. Each door was large enough to allow a medium sized shuttle craft to pass through. The TDF’s intelligence services had concluded that these doors opened out into a cargo area beyond though, and Kaitlin agreed here with the egg heads in the Bureau of Design, nobody could explain why a battleship the size of the Vigilant would require so much cargo space. Standard operating procedure for the TDF and, it was assumed, the JSN would be for battleships to operate as part of a balanced force such as the TDF’s own Battle Force. Battleships like the Vigilant formed the core heavy units, while cruisers and destroyers provided support and protection. A separate logistics train of collier and repair ships would round out the force for longer cruises otherwise the ships would simply return to their home port for repair and replenishment. Kaitlin could see no purpose in having what, to her eyes, was wasted space.
Whatever the reasoning behind these doors she was sure all would be revealed after dinner.
✽✽✽
The elevator doors smoothly slipped aside, and Robert Lewis waved a hand beckoning his guest to proceed him.
“Ever the gentleman.” Said Kaitlin Rocha graciously.
“I try my best.” Replied Robert as he followed
her out into another gleaming corridor.
The smell of cleaning products and fresh paint tingled Kaitlin’s nose and she inhaled just that little bit deeper as she savored the smell and taste of a new ship. It was a smell that would quickly be replaced by grime and sweat of hundreds of crew men and women who would call Vigilant home and no matter how hard the atmospheric scrubbers worked they would never be able to replicate that first, unforgettable smell.
Kaitlin crossed the wide corridor halting in front of a window made out of thick armored glass. The window gave Kaitlin a bird’s eye view of one of the cargo holds that had raised such interest with the TDF’s own intelligence people. Before her was a space large enough to hold a couple of small shuttle craft. An overhead gantry ran perpendicular to the thick, battle steel blast doors while a track system was embedded into the floor. Ranged along the walls were various ports which, if Kaitlin was supposing correctly, were fuel and replenishment umbilical’s for the shuttle craft the cargo bay was obviously designed to hold.
“You are undoubtedly wondering why we need so many cargo bays aboard a battleship aren’t you?” Said Robert standing beside her after a few moments as he looked down upon the crewmembers scurrying about in the bay below moving large cargo pods from one side of the bay to the other under the watchful eye of a senior bosuns mate. Occasionally the senior sailor’s mouth would enunciate a word which Kaitlin did not need to hear through the thick glass to know its meaning. In response a tardy junior rating would hustle a little bit faster hoping the bosun find someone else to berate.
“It is a bit odd Robert.” Kaitlin answered without taking her eyes away from the view below. She would need to remember every detail, no matter how small, for her report when she returned to her own ship.
“Those so-called experts who signed off on Vigilant’s final design forced it on me.” Grumbled Robert.
That got Kaitlin’s attention. Turning she gave her old boss a mock look of shock and surprise. In all the years that she had served alongside Robert she had never known anyone to force something upon him that he didn’t actually want and was just pretending not to like. Kaitlin could not keep the disbelieving sarcasm out of her voice as she spoke. “Really?”
A rumbling laugh came from Robert as he turned away from the window and rested his rear against the corridors wall. “Well, if truth be known.” A smile that would have done a fox proud spread across his face. “Those idiots who hold the navy’s purse strings are more worried about the land grab that’s going on at the minute than building a true fighting navy. They wanted to restrict the JSN to cruisers and spend the rest of the cash on cargo ships to service the privately funded colonization effort.”
Robert shrugged his shoulders with a frustrated sigh.
“I came up with a compromise. We outfit Vigilant with extra cargo space which we can use to transport supplies to these new colony worlds if need be when we do our port visits, and I get my battleship.”
“H'm, looks like we both have the same problem.” Kaitlin agreed. “Central Command have been stripping away my cruisers for months and forming independent cruiser squadrons to head out and hold the hands of colonists who are worried the Black Ships are going to pay them a visit.”
“Not that a few cruisers are going to do much good if what happened to CSG Itus at Guzman is any example.” Said Robert solemnly.
Both officers remained silent for a few moments lost in their own thoughts. Pushing off the wall Robert straightened up. “How about a quick nightcap before you head back?”
Kaitlin graced him with a smile. “Now that, Robert. Is the best idea you’ve had all day.”
The conversation turned to happier things as they made their way back to the elevator. As the doors closed behind them the senior bosun sounded a short blast from the comms unit at her waist. The shrieking sound resonated off the bay walls bringing all activity within to a halt.
“All right people lets get this crap out of here and stowed away wherever you got it from!”
Half an hour later the bosun cast a last eye over the now empty bay assuring herself that the bay was ready to receive its real cargo. Whenever that may be, she mused striding out of the bay, the armored doors closing with a heavy thunk behind her.
CHAPTER FOUR
RETURN TO COMMAND
CENTRAL COMMAND | MONT SALEVE | EARTH
The briefing room buried deep within Mont Salève, headquarters of the Terran Defense Force, held only a single occupant who sat silently, lost deep in thought.
A gentle hiss announced the briefing room doors separating, the bright lights of the corridor ensured whomever entered was cast in shadow, however, John Radford instantly recognized the outline of the diminutive figure, Chairman of the Combined Joint Chiefs of Staff, Admiral Ai Jing. John sprang to his feet assuming the position of attention only for the sound of a gentle chuckle and the wave of a hand inviting him to return to his seat.
“Please, John, sit, sit.”
John was halfway back into his seat when the sound of a gruff voice, obviously engaged in a heated discussion with someone outside of John’s earshot, caused him to halt. Instead, the first genuine smile since his return to duty after Jing’s month-long enforced leave, tugged at the corner of his mouth. Jing noticed his smile and allowed a small smile of his own to creep onto his face.
“Perhaps, you could hurry the good doctor along, John, I have a meeting with the new Secretary of Defense in half an hour and she may think me a touch tardy if I’m late.”
“My pleasure, Admiral.” John’s long legs ate up the short distance to the briefing room door. Stepping through, John emerged into the brightly lit corridor only to stop abruptly as he was confronted by the back of a slightly overweight, prematurely balding man, wearing a jacket that would not have looked out of place on a shipyard worker. There were literally more pockets than John could count, and each was stuffed with electronics; from a basic PAD to a strange device, that looked like a screwdriver crossed with a wizard’s wand. Doctor Jeff Moore, head of the CUOP’s secretive research and development base on the planet Zarminda, was oblivious to John’s presence as he talked animatedly into his comm while reviewing information displayed on a PAD he held in his other hand.
“Look, Jerry, I don’t care what the data says. The containment field needs to be a third of the size it is now. You tell professor what’s his face that he can get off his fat academic ass and come up with a way to do it or I’ll find someone who can. If the Saiph can do it, then so can we!”
John cleared his throat loud enough that Jeff could hear, however, the scientist did not turn nor did he pause in his conversation, as he held up the hand containing the PAD, flicking it dismissively.
The smile on John’s face slipped into a more childish grin, as he deftly maneuvered his hand past Jeff’s raised arm and tapped the disconnect button on the PAD before hurriedly taking a step back. Spinning in place, face flushing red with anger Jeff turned to confront whomever had been so presumptuous as to interrupt him. “What the hell do you -” Anger quickly turned to joy as he found John standing grinning at him.
Conversation forgotten Jeff stuck a hand out, remembering at the last minute it still contained a PAD which he slipped into one of his jacket’s many pockets before extending his hand again, grasping John’s and shaking it enthusiastically.
“Damn, John! Good to see you, good to see you. How’s Patricia? I hear she and Madkin have had a few toe to toes since he took office.” A loud chuckle reverberated off the corridor walls. “She always was one to make her opinion heard. And what about married life? Treating you well? I don’t suppose you get much time at home these days, what with these bloody Black Ships and all, maybe -”
John broke into Jeff’s never-ending stream of questions. “Which is exactly what we are here to talk about, Jeff.” Canting his head toward the still-open briefing room door. “And I don’t think it’s a good idea to keep Admiral Jing waiting, do you?”
Jeff closed his still-o
pen mouth with an audible click before nodding sharply. “Of course, you are correct. No time to waste.” He said as he stepped past John and through into the room. With a slightly exasperated shake of the head, John followed the scientist and reassumed his seat. Jeff took the one opposite him, while Admiral Jing waited patiently for them both to settle, from his seat at the head of the small table. Jeff arranged a number of PADs on the table before him and ensured they were aligned perfectly straight. Satisfied he had everything he needed, and everything was in its correct place, he shifted his gaze to Jing who’s features, as usual, betrayed nothing.
“Are you ready to begin, Doctor?” Jing asked without a trace of the irritation which John’s frowning face failed to hide.
You might be one of my best friends, thought John as he regarded Jeff silently, but your OCD can be pretty damned annoying.
Like a scolded schoolboy Jeff mumbled “Yes, of course, Admiral, my apologies. I’m ready any time you are.”
Turning to John, the chairman glanced at his own PAD before speaking. “According to your latest estimate, John, the Carrier Strike Group should be up to full strength by the end of next week.”
John gave a nod of agreement which caused Jing to raise one questioning eyebrow.
“That’s pretty impressive considering the losses you took.”
John paused before answering Jing’s question. “First Fleet have permission to release some of their reserves to bring us back up to strength, tonnage and type wise, while our damaged units have got priority in the yards.”
“And what of the fighter squadrons?” asked Jing.
“Replacement crews and Mosquitos are either already embarked or are due to arrive over the next few days. My CAG, Captain Taw, has assured me she’ll have them up to speed by the end of the month.”
Jing steepled his fingers in front of his face and held John’s eyes with his own. “And your honest assessment as to when Itus will be ready to fight again, if called on?”
