Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines

by Chris Hechtl

  “I still find it hard to believe that Rico and Cartwright went down like that.” He shook his head. The captain let out a slow breath, glad the admiral was focusing on the major events instead of his screwup. “And you say you didn't get confirmation?”

  Captain Crenis shook his head, thoroughly frustrated by the situation. “No.”

  The admiral frowned thoughtfully and swung his girth from side to side in his chair. He picked up a glass of scotch, downed it, and then poured himself another. He didn't offer the captain a drink. After his second shot, he coughed and then set the glass down. “But it fits with what we've got from Barnacle Bill.”

  The captain blinked in consternation. “You had another ship come in? You knew??”

  The admiral shrugged, ignoring the accusing eyes. “Yes.”

  “So, why didn't you say so!” The captain glared at the admiral.

  “I wanted to hear your full report first. You confirmed their report, though it is vague,” he said mildly. “I don't like what you just said about Admiral Rico, however. How did they destroy his fleet?”

  The captain shrugged helplessly. “I don't know.”

  The admiral's eyes glared into his. He flinched. “I know you don't know; that's the problem. It is so vague! Damn it!”

  “So, what do we do, sir?”

  The admiral frowned thoughtfully then shook his head as if coming to an unsatisfactory decision. “Get confirmation while you take the high road to Senka.”

  “To Senka? Not back to Protodon?” the captain asked, making a face. The high road was a string of seven jumps in empty systems including B-95a3, the system they had just passed through. That meant a total of eight jumps to get to Senka. They would be on fumes by the time they arrived. “We'll ….”

  The chief held up a restraining hand. “Save it. I know you'll be on fumes. We'll give you extra fuel in your cargo.”

  The captain opened his mouth and then closed it. If they did that, he wouldn't have any cargo when he went into Senka. No cargo meant no trade items. No trade meant no port fees or fuel.

  “I know, I know, but the admiralty wants that jump line and that star system checked. According to the report from Barnacle Bill two of our ships, both corvettes, headed in that direction. Find out what happened to them. They should have some intel on the battle.”

  “Sir, if I went south it would be seven jumps instead of eight. I'd also be passing through three of our star systems, sir. Well, Briev isn't our territory, but they are a friendly port.”

  “I know, but our orders are to check that jump chain for the missing ships,” the chief said doggedly.

  “And if we do that, I won't get back home. I'll have enough fuel to get to Senka and no fuel to get back and no cargo to trade in that system or elsewhere, sir,” the captain said almost desperate. “So I wouldn't be able to get back,” he insisted.

  “Your problem,” the chief stated flatly. “I guess you'll have to get creative. Remember the motto: If you aren't cheating, you aren't trying hard enough. If you can't buy it, steal it,” he stated.

  “But …,” when the chief just glared at him, he took a step back and took a deep breath. He exhaled slowly, getting his temper under control.

  “Are you refusing to follow orders?”

  “No, I'll do it. I'm not sure how, but I'll get it done.”

  “Good.”

  ---<>---<>---

  Admiral Frost rubbed his double chin thoughtfully as he tried to game out the current problem. He needed intelligence on Antigua. He finally had enough confirmation to send a courier to Dead Drop. He wasn't certain he wanted to, but that was what his duty specified. At least it wasn't his frackup he thought.

  No, but if he didn't handle it carefully it might be. It couldn't be enemy disinformation, no, not with both spy ships confirming the story. It was maddeningly vague though! He shook his massive head. He had to have more information and soon! Hopefully Prinz Zir would get him what he needed.

  His eyes went to the departing shuttle. Crenis may not like the assignment, but he was an ass. He deserved to be punished for not taking his cargo to Antigua as his orders had specified. He was crafty enough to get in to Senka and out again. The rear admiral had specified the route to include Triang so the man could get in, get the information he needed, then back out in the shortest amount of time.

  He shook his head again. That was the problem with the spy ships; they took their sweet time! Prinz Zir would be gone months, possibly a full year before it returned. When it returned he might see some response from home. Possibly a ship, possibly more than one. And as senior officer he planned on exercising his command authority to take command. That would get him out of the chair and into a real command. Who knows, if he handled it just right he would be a hero and would get what was coming to him? A promotion, a better position …. He smiled and rubbed his hands at the thought.

  He was good at his job; the small but growing repair yard in orbit of the gas giant was proof of that. It wasn't large, but they had two slips and could handle small or moderate jobs. With a bit of work, he could see it growing into a full repair yard in time.

  At one point he'd envisioned himself running a full yard. That was why he'd chosen engineering and transports over the combat line. Up until recently there hadn't been any upward movement in the tactical and combat tracks. Now he was regretting his career path. This event, though ill for the empire, might put him back on track … if he handled it properly.

  ---<>---<>---

  “So, how did it go, sir?” Alice asked, looking at the skipper. She took his sour look in and then frowned. “That bad, huh?”

  “In a word, yes,” he stated flatly as he climbed into the shuttle. “Let's get out of here. We need to get going.”

  “Leave has been canceled?” Raff asked, eyes wide. “But we just got here?!”

  “And now we're going,” the captain said in a commanding voice that broke no further argument. “The admiral's orders. Do you want to argue with him?”

  Raff spread his hands apart and licked his lips nervously. “No, sir. Sorry, sir,” he said.

  “Sir, what about the box, did he give us a pat on the back over that?” Serius asked as Alice secured the lock door.

  The captain sat down and felt the small playing card deck sized box in his front pocket. “Damn it, no, I forgot to turn it over to him,” he muttered, fishing the device out. It was a pocket computer they had gotten in trade from the Gronix family—that and some rather smooth white lightening that the crew had consumed and some silver coins that had turned out to be plated not solid. “Damn …”

  “Hang onto it, sir, we may need it for something or other,” Alice urged.

  The captain frowned as he stared at the box in his hand. It was the one small dim bright spot on the Epsilon Triangula debacle. He was seriously tempted to return to the HQ to hand it over to the Admiral. Duty said to do so, but it wouldn't do him any good. It wouldn't get him out of their other duty, to follow orders. His fist clenched around the device.

  “Sir!” Alice said, eyes wide in concern, not for him but for the computer.

  “Relax Alice, I won't break it,” he said, slowly relaxing his grip. “I think you're right; we'll hang onto it. It could come in handy where we're going. The silver too.”

  “Yes, sir. And the bottles?”

  “I was going to have them spaced … I take it the Bosun decided otherwise? What, filling them up from the ship's still? Or did he finally crack the formula?”

  Serius chuckled. Trust the skipper to know about the ship's still and the Bosun's preoccupation with recreating the Duke's family recipe. “I don't think he got anywhere, sir; he's about given up or so I heard,” he said, rubbing his nose and tugging on his ear. “I think the bottles will come in handy, minor trade item or something. Or we can fill ‘em with some watered-down moonshine or something or other,” he said as he buckled in. Alice made her way to the cockpit.

  “Ah, smart. It's taking up mass and space th
ough but not a lot,” the captain said as the shuttle bumped and then moved out.

  “Are we going to get an overhaul, Skipper?” Alice asked over the VOX.

  The captain frowned and then took the handset Serius handed him. He put the set on and then adjusted the microphone. “No. We're getting fuel and some spares. Get on the horn with the XO and Bosun now. I want an inventory done. We're going to need to take on a lot of fuel and supplies to make this next journey.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “And yeah, if they can find replacement parts for the number two life support module, do it. I'm tired of hearing the damn thing rattle at night,” the captain grumbled.

  “Yes, sir,” the young woman replied.

  The captain took the headset off, set it in his lap, and then looked at the little box again. It was possibly their only salivation and ticket home. But how to use it? A straightup trade? He doubted they'd get much for it. Alice and the engineers loved the damn thing; it was helping them out a great deal, which was why they'd been reluctant for him to turn it over. He frowned thoughtfully.

  ---<>---<>---

  Captain Gumel frowned as he looked over the morning report. His head hurt, and he was in a grumpy mood. His shoulder bothered him from his morning pushups. He'd skipped the regular jog he was supposed to do; he preferred to lift weights. Doc kept warning him that he could blow a blood vessel or tear something, but he didn't care. It wasn't the exercise he preferred, but it kept him trim and it was exercise. Something better than nothing. “You know, something just occurred to me.”

  “Sir?” Ensign Jz Dahl asked, turning to look at him expectantly. The mahogany skinned ensign was a bit of a bootlicker, an eager puppy. The skipper and XO occasionally kicked the kid around, but he knew better than to complain. It was all part of the system, the pecking order he thought.

  “Didn't um … shit …,” he rubbed at his brow. He was notorious with names, and not a morning person. Combine the two, a lack of caffeine and a late night and it was a bad combination.

  “Corsair escorted General Busche's battalion in since the previous landing had been aborted and the troops withdrawn by Admiral Cartwright. But four of our sister ships were with Corsair, didn't they go on to Kathy's World recently?” The captain finally asked, still trying to get his thoughts in order. He wished he had more caffeine. They were down to dregs, and he had turned his nose up to the stuff. He'd wanted to dump the lot but Lefou begged him to keep it for the crew. His lip curled slightly. Let them drink the stuff; it was like stale motor oil.

  He'd gotten some hooch out of Busche once, but the rotgut had turned his stomach something awful. He wondered briefly if it was worth getting coffee. He made a note to get the Bosun or the XO on it. They should have been on it already he thought sourly.

  The ensign frowned thoughtfully and then pulled up his tablet. He checked the log and then nodded. “Aye, sir. Two hunting pairs, Nelson class destroyers escorting freighters, Idiot's Array and Wizard of Winter, sir.”

  “What the hell kind of names are that?” the captain demanded. No wonder he hadn't been able to remember them. Why would anyone … he shook his head. He saw the ensign's helpless shrug. “I wasn't asking you,” he snapped, rubbing his brow again. “Go on.”

  The ensign nodded nervously. He could tell when the skipper was in a foul mood, and today was one of those days. He just wanted to survive his shift. “Yes, sir, they passed through several months ago, while we were in transit here I believe.”

  “And since our orders are to hold here …,” the captain frowned. Their orders stated they had to hold in Protodon to support General Busche and to wait for Admiral Rico and Admiral Cartwright. They were supposed to act as a reserve. Now that was out the window he thought acidly.

  “What forces do we have around us? In case we need backup,” he asked.

  “Sir, um, I'm not cleared to know that,” the ensign stated.

  “Of course not,” the captain frowned, then accessed the computer. His big hands made typing difficult. He didn't bother using his implants; he hated them. And with the headache that was coming on, he didn't want it to get any worse. He frowned thoughtfully.

  Nuevo Madrid had a small naval station there, but it wasn't much. A single obsolete destroyer and a half squadron of frigates. It was exile for that fat sow of a rear admiral he thought. He tapped at the other star system nearby until he got a hit. According to his last dispatch update, two Derfflinger class battle cruisers with supports were headed to … he scowled. “Who the hell names a star system that?” he demanded. The ensign looked up in confusion. “Sierra Nuevo Hombre Hallelujah. What a mouthful.”

  “It means Shit Nothing Happens Here, sir. My grandparents emigrated to the empire from there,” Lieutenant Shanty replied. She had heard it was a dull agro world and had no interest in tracing her roots. None at all.

  “No wonder they left with a name like that,” the captain stated shaking his head. The lieutenant nodded. The captain ignored the nod of agreement and returned his attention to the status board. According to the dispatch, the ships were headed out to show the flag. They were supposed to reinforce Admiral Cartwright's forces but were taking a leisurely pace to do it, stopping at every star system to intimidate the emperor's new more restless subjects into their proper place. They'd either come to heel or be bombed into oblivion. He grinned at that thought. He'd love to see a BC blast a planet. It would be quite the show.

  Now that was a command he thought, frowning. How could he work to get one of those? He shook his head. He'd had all he could do to pull the strings to get this command let alone something bigger! He looked the captains’ names up; perhaps they would give him some sort of clue.

  Captain Shantell Mueller and Captain … wait, they gave that command to a woman??!? he scowled even darker, eyes flashing as his temple pounded. He looked up when his vision began to blur. How dare they! How dare they pass over someone like him to give a woman a command of a battle cruiser! It was outrageous!

  He got to his feet and paced, rubbing his jaw. Finally he decided he needed a break. “Ensign, you have the bridge,” he stated.

  The ensign looked up in alarm, then his eyes cut to the lieutenant at Ops. “Sir?”

  “Whatever, fine,” the captain said over his shoulder on his way out. “I'll be indisposed,” he said, making up his mind that the best way to work off his passion was in a very direct way. One that would be ultimately relaxing. “I don't want to be disturbed,” he growled.

  “Aye aye, sir,” the lieutenant stated, making a note before she got up to take the hot seat.

  The captain saw the move and then stabbed a finger at her. “You stay.” He turned to point to Ensign Dahl. “I said you, Ensign.”

  “Yes, sir,” the ensign stated, rising slowly. He looked helplessly to the scowling lieutenant and then shrugged mentally as he took the hot seat.

  ---<>---<>---

  Lieutenant Kyly Shanty snarled to herself as she kept her station. Her practiced eyes checked the status board as she seethed internally. The nerve! To put a green ensign in charge of the bridge when she was senior officer? How dare he? Still, he was the captain, even if she despised the pompous ass. She had to keep such thoughts private though; she couldn't afford to let anyone see that.

  Did he want Jz to prove himself? To get some clock time on his record for manning the bridge? A test? She frowned thoughtfully. She snuck a look at the ensign. He looked like he was settling into the chair. He looked … she watched under her arm as he petted the chair's padded arms. He looked like he was settling in. It was a fresh new experience; one she could relate to. She could give him a warm welcome … no, she'd leave him alone.

  “Lieutenant, did you um, finish your tactical exercise?” the ensign asked.

  “Yes, Ensign.” the TACO said, clearly nettled.

  “Then you can do another, right?” Dahl said maliciously.

  “Yes …,” that tore it. She opened up a script file, typed rapidly then dumped her bot i
nto the mainframe. It wouldn't be in there long; it would be filtered out by the security system she had created for the computer. Well, her and Jordy, her old ex-boyfriend. But it would be there long enough to write an unscheduled drill into the schedule. She'd done it before; the XO assumed it was something the brass had created to keep the crew on their toes.

  She grinned to herself when the klaxons went off. She immediately schooled her expression and went to work checking the status board. “What??” the ensign gibbered behind her. She turned enough to see his profile. His dark mahogany skin didn't pale, but his expression was priceless. “Shut that damn thing off!”

  “We can't!” the helmsman said, cringing in his seat. “Not until everyone reports to their duty station and we finish whatever the hell it is!”

  “Two ships coming up on our stern. CIC makes them out as destroyers, Captain,” Kyly said, all business. “They will be in weapons range in thirty seconds. Orders? Suggest we maneuver to get our ass out of the fire,” she suggested helpfully just as the lights dimmed and went red for the battle station's condition.

  Whatever the skipper was doing, he was most certainly not going to be there for long the lieutenant thought cheerfully. And the ensign wouldn't be enjoying his little power trip for long she thought as he gibbered, clearly flat footed. “Sir, unscheduled drill online, tactical assignment. We've got to get through it,” she said patiently.

  “What the hell is going on?” the captain bellowed, voice deep in rage. “Dahl, what the hell did you do now??!””

  Chapter 5

  Rear Admiral Subert's arrival in Pyrax was celebrated across the star system. The media had live coverage going the moment his ship entered the star system. Interview requests came clamoring in from all corners of the star system, swamping the public affairs department. The admiral made it clear he wanted a private arrival before the change of command ceremony.