"Aye, sir." I salute her and turn to leave. If they have issues, I should know about them, but I do my best to hide my anger.
I grab my corporals who've been waiting in the outer office.
"Let's go boys." We float to the travel tubes.
"Is there something wrong, sir?" Eller, speaking for only the third time.
"No. At least nothing you can do anything about."
"Yes, sir. New commanders always require time to break in, sir."
I laugh. "Aye, corporal, aye."
They get me back to Yorktown in one piece, and I head up to the bridge in time to check the day's scores and watch Rains finish his last sim before we go.
Ninety two. I can live with that. I conveniently ignore the fact that Emily carded a 97 on the same sim, and declare the day a victory. Everybody hits the showers, except me, my First, and my Second.
Now I have one last problem to handle.
"Mr. Rains."
"Yes, sir."
"I read your report this morning. What's our water status?"
His slightly tanned skin goes pale.
"I don't know, sir, sorry, sir."
"Your orders were to give me a report on the MEL and consumables. You covered the entire MEL efficiently. You covered all the consumables in deck one stowage efficiently. You make no mention of our tanks. Water and fuel orders take 72 hours to process, and we're leaving in 40."
"I'll get on that right now Captain, I'm sure I can work something out with the dock command, sir."
"No need, Lt. Commander, I placed those orders two days ago. Our tanks are on tonight's quartermaster schedule."
Now he's really pale. He won't look me in the eye.
"There's a lesson here for you, Mr. Rains. Don't trust anything to memory. Use your checklists, follow procedures."
"Yes, sir, I will, sir."
"Dismissed." He salutes and takes his leave.
Shelby is shaking her head as he goes.
"Katana, we're going to have to keep our eyes on that boy." He's our age, yet it still feels right when she calls him a boy.
"Yes, we will, Shel. His heart's in the right place, I just don't think he's used to having a lot of responsibility, despite being eight years out of the Academy."
"Roger, that."
"Gym?" And we float off to our cabins to put on our workout clothes.
At 1700, worked out, cleaned up, and followed by my two shadows for just about the last time, I head for the zero gee shopping plaza. Maddy's shop is closed, but I give her a strong knock on the door, and she appears from the back to let me in.
"Captain, good to see you. I've got your uniforms on my table in the back room."
We walk back, she's got two dark blue standard enlisted casual flight uniforms spread out on the table. At least they look standard, but I'm hoping that's an illusion.
"I started," Maddie says, reaching for one of the uniforms and opening it at the collar, "by making this a triple layer design. Same thing I do for Special Forces Marines. Two layers of fabric, with a layer of Kevlar between. Not bullet proof, but resistant enough to save your life on a distant shot."
Then she pulls the opening wider.
"Men don't generally search women very well, either they're too embarrassed or they use the search as an excuse to grab something they shouldn't. That means, especially for a woman as curvy as you, that we can effectively hide weapons. In your case, I've put in two scabbards, one much easier to find than the other. Both flexible and made of Kevlar."
She shows me both, then reaches into the drawer under her table.
"These skeleton knives fit into the scabbards. I only bought you one set, didn't think you'd mind moving them and they're on the pricey side."
The knives are solid pieces of metal about six inches long and one wide, titanium I think, machined to the right shape with circular cutouts along their handles to make them lighter. One side of the blade serrated, the other not.
"The injector cartridges," she points to an internal pocket, "fit in here, three at a time, and will align with the shape of the uniform and your shape, also hard to detect if they're not careful searching."
She puts the uniform back together.
"What do you think?"
"I think I should have made friends with you a long time ago."
She laughs, then folds the uniforms and places them in a big bag, brown paper with a seal at the top so nothing escapes in zero gee, then carefully puts the knives into the boxes they came in and slides them between the uniforms positioned to not affect the shape of the bag from the outside.
"That'll be $325." She says it and hands me the pad interface from the register.
I pay $500, then head for the door. I stop before I open it, give her my best salute. She gives me a better one in return.
"Thank you, Maddie."
"No sir, thank you for letting me be useful. Good hunting, Captain."
"Aye. I'll let you know how it went when I get back." And with that, I make the little bell ring.
I am supposed to meet Carl for tacos at 1900, instead I grab a bunch to go and show up at his place an hour early, my corporals conveniently back at the travel tubes. He opens the door, clad only in a towel, surprised look on his face. I show him the bag of Mexican delights.
"I decided we should just stay in tonight."
He laughs, lets a devilish grin spread across his face, and motions me to enter.
Chapter 6
I get out of the sack at 0500 with him, get clean in the shower with him, eat breakfast with the hair coiled around him. He breaks our silence.
"I take this attention to mean I should wait for you."
I hit him.
"Only if you want to live."
We spend a few minutes kissing until his pad beeps at him. Idiot put in a 0545 reminder. I should just kill him and get it over with. He rushes off to finish dressing, I put on one of my new uniforms to try it out. No knives. Just as comfortable and as well fitted as the other two.
Carl grabs my hand and pushes us toward the door.
"I can be a couple minutes late."
We float down to Yorktown, get in one last kiss, no words, and then float off to do our duty. Or he does, I watch him go. Might never see him again, in fact, likely that I won't see him again, and he won't see me except at my memorial service, but there's always hope.
Get on board to find most of my crew in the process of stowing their gear. Powell, Garcia, and the Doctor decided to take the Ensign in to bunk with them rather than take the Senator's aide. That puts the aide in with McAdams and the RISTA crew. The four newcomers, Benson's and Everingham's selections, are in a quad together. The four enlisted pilots are together, the two leftover engineers move in with the security team, and the boat deck crew is in the last quad, the only group unaffected by our guests and new crew.
The professors get the visitor quarters just behind my ready room, and the Senator gets the quarters between me and Shelby. They're not showing for six hours, time enough to make sure we look efficient when they get here.
We hardly breathe for that time, though I take Shelby to the gym midday just in case the Senator needs to talk and I need to prove I did my exercises. Paranoid.
Rains goes through every MEL and the stores lists, including water and fuel. Every box checked, everything where it belongs. The odd food is the Senator's, he apparently didn't appreciate Navy food when he served and brought his own for this trip.
Exactly at 1400, he appears, with his aide, the two professors, Admiral Hilgenberg, and ChiNO. Everingham doesn't stay, just expresses his good wishes.
I take the Senator to his quarters, set his biometrics so he can open the door, remind him of how the head works. Shelby has the aide and Rains got the professors. Hilgenberg stays with me. Their baggage came aboard earlier in the day.
When we finish, the Senator asks if there's someplace he and his aide can get some work done, I show him the wardroom and the mess. I also explain to him which
locker will contain his special meals, the crew person assigned to mess duty each day will bring a set down for him in the ward room lockers. He can check the duty roster if he has a special request.
Once we lose the politicos, Hilgenberg makes me take her on a tour of the ship, deck by deck. We finish with a long list of suggestions scratched into my pad. I'll wait to hit delete until after she's ashore. She served on and eventually commanded a ship 80 times our size, she should have been asking me about how things work in my microscopic world, in my opinion, not telling me. Not that she has to listen or even ask, just saying it would be polite (and maybe smart).
Finally, we reach the exit hatch on the boat deck, and she stops.
"I wish I were going with you, Krieger."
"Aye, sir."
"Smart. There's no good response to that to your superior."
"Aye, sir."
"Once this is over, I will go with you on an op so I can see your ship in action."
"I'd like that, sir, though it presupposes we make it back."
She makes a half laugh, half snort sort of thing.
"Let's assume that you will. I see no reason the Senator should not be successful, or that you'll encounter hostilities unless you bring them on yourself."
"Aye, sir, I hope you're right. I always prepare for the worst though."
"As you should, Captain, as you should."
She moves toward the hatch then turns back.
"Good luck, Krieger."
She salutes, I come to attention, return it, and she departs.
I head back to the bridge where I find the doctor handing out drugs.
"Ah, Captain, I have your medication."
He hands me three pills, green and yellow. Then my brain works again.
"Anti-fungals?"
"Aye, sir. You, Commander Perez, and Lt. Commander Rains are permitted your own bottles, the rest of the crew must appear at sick call each day to ensure they are taking their meds. Three pills now, then one a day until we get home. I left a bottle on your couch."
"Thank you, Doctor. Carry on."
He gets back to work, I go grab the bottle and take it to my ready room. There's a 30 day supply, I'm thinking that's optimistic, but I know he's got a 240 day supply on hand. Set some tea to brewing, then use plain old water to take my drugs before getting back to work. I use the screens to check the status of Yorktown, the only problem one Marine who had a lot too much last night and is currently in sick bay. The ship is ready to go. I drink a good swallow of my fresh tea, and float back out to the bridge.
"Mr. Garcia."
"Aye, sir."
"Set departure stations, let's roll, 15 minutes."
"Aye, sir, departure stations."
Alarms and a pre-recorded voice, followed by Garcia announcing 15 minutes. We're not going too far, just outside the station, so nobody is excited. Except Jones, who flashes to his station at light speed. Just a guess, but I'd bet Garcia is letting him take the ship out.
I call each of our guests and get them to the bridge and strapped in, Rains assigned to help. We're going out at about 0.001 gees, so they could simply hang on to the side of their couches, but it's good practice.
Garcia calls Grissom control and arranges our clearance, we've already submitted the paperwork, but we didn't give them a departure time. We have until 1800 to be on station when the missile loading team will show.
Exactly at 1600, the internal bay moorings retract and the main doors slide open.
"Mr. Garcia, your mark, take us out."
"Aye, Skipper. Jones, the ship is yours, try not to hit anything." I don't think I've ever heard her trying to be funny before.
"Aye, Lieutenant, thrusters free."
He's steady, clean, and does not hit anything. Takes us less than 15 minutes to get stable outside the station, at 500 meters, my screens full of the planet below. I suddenly have no monkey on my back, a huge wave of relief starts at my toes and spreads the entire length of me. And then a wave of sadness merges with it, thinking about a certain Marine.
"Sound free fall stations."
"Free fall stations, aye."
Another set of horns rings through the ship, everybody unbuckles and sets about the task of checking ship systems that were interacting with the station systems, but are now on their own. I rotate through all my status screens, which are all nicely green. It's 1617, I spend the next hour and a half going back over the course to our jump point, and what we need to do in Gamma Nu when we get there. McAdams wakes me up.
"Contact at 2,000 kilometers."
I look on my screen, make sure it's our missiles.
"Affirmative, Lieutenant, keep me advised."
"Aye, sir."
Then I do the business to prepare for loading.
"Mr. Jordan, open outer doors all tubes, deactivate launchers, release clamps." Nice to have the regular team on the bridge again.
"Aye, sir."
I watch as the doors open, the launchers go red, and the clamps come off. This time we're unloading our old missiles, and taking 24 fresh ones, not just reloading. The ones in our tubes have been through several waves of funky EMP, and none of us want to trust our lives to them.
The giant praying mantis looking crane appears and settles in next to my ship. We watch as it carefully extracts the old and then just as carefully inserts our new weapons. I think for a couple seconds about whether or not I should have restocked a couple mine layers, and then throw it away. Maximum destruction, not stealth. One ship against an entire system.
They finish at 2000 hours. I watch their blip head away on active radar, and three smaller dots head toward us. As expected, two brand new landing ships and our old assault craft, which we dock onto three of our collars, then bring the crews inside. Seven Marine aviators disembark and join their brethren upstairs.
Now it's bed time, I head for my cabin, leave Rains and his team in charge. Normally, I'd crawl right into bed, but tonight I call up the bridge cameras and watch for an hour just to make sure he's good to go before I turn the lights out, climb into my bag, and fall asleep.
Truxton, Decatur, and Congress are waiting for us a couple hundred meters off our port bow when I get to the bridge at 0700. I don't envy this mission for them with only limited ability to dock on Yorktown. Their crews are going to be awfully tired of each other at the end.
By 1745 I have everyone strapped in and ready to go. The Senator swears he's in tip top shape, and the professors say they've prepared themselves. We'll see. But until I find out otherwise, we're going to drive them hard.
"Mr. Garcia, signal our corvettes and establish autopilot coordination."
"Aye, sir." I have to wait about 90 seconds. "Corvettes report ready, autopilots synched."
"Roger that." I get on the radio. "Grissom Station, Yorktown, requesting departure clearance."
Another 15 second wait.
"Yorktown, Grissom Station, you are cleared to depart, flight plan as filed."
"Affirmative, Yorktown moving." I go back to intercom.
"Mr. Garcia, take us to the jump point, let's roll."
"Jump point, aye. Sixty seconds."
Horns and alarms sound, as if everybody on board wasn't listening in to the comm traffic.
We're pushed back into our couches at one gee, which we hold briefly to clear the station and confirm the autopilots are maintaining formation, then we take it up to four gees. We'll hang there all the way to the sun, though I've scheduled more frequent and longer bathroom breaks than normal just in case our passengers aren't as ready as they think they are.
It's not quite 24 hours to the jump point, and it's entirely uneventful. The professors are reasonably green in the faces most of the way, but manage to hold their food down and pretend they are just fine. Otherwise, we cut the corvettes loose at 0730 so they can widen the formation and execute their own jumps.
We're headed to Gamma Nu, Congress is coming with us, the other two are jumping for Gamma Upsilon to join up with A
dmiral Sutherland's task force coming in from Argentina. If we're not in Upsilon 48 hours from now, Sutherland will send one of them to look for us. If we need his help, we'll send Congress to look for him.
"Mr. Garcia, engines to standby."
"Engines to standby." She didn't need to repeat that order, you feel it when you go from weighing 500 pounds to being essentially weightless.
Libor: Katana Krieger #2 Page 9
