Haad exchanged a look with Curton. Both of them had fought in the first war and left that conflict with the confident assurances from the higher-ups the Varson were a defeated people, a race in turmoil, a race that would need decades to return their ruined worlds to any semblance of normalcy. Their war-like footing in just a decade spoke volumes about their inherent militarism and determination.
“What about the Lake Tahoe, sir?” Haad asked.
“From all indications, she is still berthed somewhere in the Varson Empire. We have had no demands from their leaders, no talk of exchanges or concessions. That fact alone is enough to get us on track to launch an invasion of the Varson Empire. My intelligence experts tell me they have a secret planet, a place they call Rauud Mithie, a planet that we somehow overlooked in the first war. We didn’t go far enough into their space, we didn’t knock out their ship-building facilities, nor their research labs. Since it is so close to the Flame Nebula and on the outskirts of our explored and catalogued worlds, the Varson were able to maintain their military posture after the end of the war. If we invade their Domain, something will have to be done to hit this secret planet hard and destroy their means to manufacture weapons.”
“Seems to me, sir, that planet should be our first concern. If we take it out first, that will pretty much prevent them from sending any new ships against us.”
Paine looked at Pax Curton. His hot-dogging approach to his job as a captain in the Second garnered him many fans in the Admiralty and an equal number of detractors. As much as he hated to admit it to himself, Paine had to concede the point. “Duly noted, Admiral Curton. We finally have the location of this secret world and that option is on the table. Draw up some strategic plans and we will discuss them once you figure out how to make an almost 800 light-year jump with enough firepower to take the facility out. When you figure a way to get back, I’ll kick that idea upstairs.”
Curton started to respond to Paine’s subtle mockery, but decided against it. First day jitters prevented him from making an issue out of his ill-conceived idea.
“Let’s take a minute to get some coffee. And feel free to shuck your uniform coats, gentlemen. We have about two hours’ worth of material to cover and we might as well get comfortable.” Admiral Paine stood and unbuttoned his jacket and his men did the same.
The talk around the coffee urn was surprisingly quiet this Monday morning, the mood apprehensive.
Not at all what Haad had expected.
* * *
“Are you all right, dear?”
Holli looked at the yeoman and the lieutenant. “Which way to the facility? All of a sudden, I don’t feel so good.”
“It’s right through there, ma’am,” the yeoman said, indicating a hallway to Holli’s left. The two base housing reps watched the admiral’s wife scurry down the hall, heard the door to the head slam.
“She’s probably just nervous,” Lieutenant Margo Wayne said. “What with that whirlwind marriage and all. Now she’s got to pick out quarters for her and the admiral. Maybe we should schedule this for another time.”
Yeoman Pei shook her head in agreement. “It’s not like there’s any real rush. I understand the admiral is heading out to Wilkes this afternoon. That’s going to be at least a week or ten days before he gets back. All of the billets are furnished and ready to go, so I don’t see what the big rush is.”
“Well, maybe she has a preference as to which side of the street the house is on. I don’t know.”
Yeoman Pei nodded and consulted her reader. “There’s 1604, 1605, 1606 and 1607. Four empty houses. Since they’re all pretty much the same on the inside, couldn’t we just tell her which one is in the best condition, which one is cleanest? I don’t really see the difference, lieutenant.”
“One day, when you’re an admiral’s wife, maybe you’ll understand.”
Pei said nothing else and paced around the living room. The house they were in, 1605 Blue Spruce Road, was situated on a quarter-hectare lot on a small rise facing a tree-lined street. Its mirror-image, 1606, sat some 100 meters to the southwest. The modest three-bedroom home was furnished in Navy cheap and the interior smelled of disinfectant and lingering cat odors. Pei thought the carpeting would definitely have to be replaced. Though by no means elegant, it was the best one of the lot in her opinion.
Holli returned from the head and looked pale and disheveled. “Sorry, ladies, I don’t know what that was all about. Just a wave of nausea. I lost my breakfast and I feel better now.”
Lieutenant Wayne smiled at her forthright explanation. Usually these high-ranking wives would adopt airs and attitudes not befitting their station. Young Holli Haad was, to her, a breath of fresh air. “Well, Mrs. Haad, we could always do this at another time. Your husband is going to be off site for a week or so, and you could wait for a few days until you’re feeling better. If you’d like, I could run you over to the Base Hospital and they could give you something to settle your stomach. I know your last few days have been very, very hectic. Maybe something for your nerves as well.”
Holli looked at the lieutenant and wondered if dispensing medical diagnoses came along with her housing specialist job description. She knew the lieutenant meant well, and was only trying to help, so she said nothing in response to the offer. “If it’s all the same to you, let’s get this done while I’m here. I’m fine, now.”
Lieutenant Wayne nodded and started showing Holli around the house. She answered Holli’s questions and pointed out obvious features when directed to. Pei walked a few paces behind her boss and made notes on her portable. Once the trio was back in the main room, Holli said, “This’ll do just fine, lieutenant. Would you send over a maintenance crew to fix those things I pointed out to you? And get us some new blinds. These look pretty scratched up and beat. Did the previous officer have a cat?”
“Three of them. Maintenance signed off on the home just a few days ago, ma’am. Let me see what I can do.”
“That’ll be great,” Holli said and headed for the door.
“I’ll have the housing manuals sent over to your place in the BOQ. Your sign will be set in place tomorrow,” Wayne said, pointing to a metal rectangle in the front of the house.
Holli turned as she passed the sign, to get a look at the nameplate of the former tenant. The sign read: RDML C. BERGER. “On second thought,” Holli declared to Wayne’s back, “let me look at number 1606 across the street. The southern exposure might be better.”
Wayne and Pei watched as she marched down the walk, passed the staff car, and headed for the other side of the street. They exchanged quizzical glances and followed silently.
Chapter 37
The task force assembled at the trailing Lagrange point approximately 63 million kilometers from Bayliss. Admiral Haad would lead his flotilla to the fold at 1400 hours and he had captains from each of the accompanying ships sitting in his ready room getting final instructions. His two lieutenant commander aides stood with their backs to the hatch and listened intently as Haad outlined the cruise.
Not much in the operational department, heavy in the protocol arena. That was basically how he put it to his men and women. “So, in the final analysis, we are to represent the Colonial Navy to the best of our ability. I don’t know what to expect from the Great Black Fleet. It’s been so many years since the WIN has done anything like this, I’m thinking its all just a show and tell mission. They are offering us new technology — for what price I don’t know — and it is our mission to keep out eyes open and our mouths shut. No one is authorized to commit the Colonial Navy to anything: technology exchanges, crew exchanges, none of that. Any and all requests for meetings, boat tours, dining with the politicos, or anything not cleared by the protocol office will be directed to me and my staff. No exceptions, gentlemen. I get the feeling that the WI Navy is coming out here to rub our collective back-woods noses in their glitz and glamor.”
“What about the war, sir? Are we allowed to share that information with the GBF?” This
question came from Captain Inez Hermosa, one of the newly promoted captains. Her ship was the Colorado River, and she would be assuming escort duties along with seven other Corvette-class fast-attack boats. She was in her late thirties and had been pulled away from her XO position on the Albemarle Sound just days before.
“Absolutely, Captain Hermosa. We have nothing to hide, although I wouldn’t stress the point we’re getting our asses kicked out there in the Fringes. Under no circumstances are we to elicit any strategic assistance from the Great Black Fleet. If the need arises, should combat operations dictate, I will be the point man on any and all discussions of our situation as it relates to the Varson Empire. So far, the skies around Wilkes have been quiet and I would hope they stay that way.”
Captain Davi Yorn spoke up next. “Sir, how long are we to remain on station? The rumor mill has it that we will be departing Wilkes for a strike into the Varson Domain as soon as the GBF folds back to Earth. Can you tell us if there is any truth to the scuttlebutt?”
Haad stood and walked around the room. The dozen pairs of eyes from his captains followed his measured paces. “I can’t comment on that, Captain Yorn. As you well know, the Admiralty is in the process of evaluating our options with regards to the Varson Empire. Talk of a secret planet, a manufacturing and research facility, underground weapons plant. . . all of those rumors have some basis in fact, but until the brass decides what to do, how to go about bringing this conflict to a conclusion, we just await orders from Admiral Geoff and the Secretary of the Colonial Navy. I would caution you all to concentrate on our current mission and leave the speculating to the crews in the open mess halls.”
Captain Bill Mason said, “Begging your pardon, sir, if I may speak freely. . .”
Haad stopped his pacing and nodded. “Go ahead, captain.”
“While I realize these cultural exchanges with our cousins from Earth are important in the grand scheme of things, I have to wonder why we have to play these games at this critical time in the war. It’s not like we couldn’t just offer them a cup of coffee and a hydrogen refill and send them on their way. If they’re not here to help us, why do we even need to waste our time and our precious resources playing docents to this traveling circus?”
Mason had served with Haad on the Hudson River and the Corpus Christi, and Haad respected his take on things. Mason’s comments elicited a round of impromptu conversation around the ready room. Admiral Haad stood still for a half-minute and let the talk work its way down to a soft murmur.
“If I were in a position to question the wisdom of the Admiralty, Mister Mason, I would. I take my orders seriously and follow them to the letter. I know many of you see this trip as a waste of time and fuel. But, it is something that the Admiralty feels is important and we are ordered to carry out this mission with dignity and professionalism. Keep in mind that a lot of you are new to command positions and many of your ships have just left the docks after major reconstruction. If nothing else this cruise gives us all the chance to work out any kinks in our systems and tightens our c-three structure. If any of you have any reservations about this mission, you will just have to stow your feelings and prepare to follow your orders. Nothing done in the Colonial Navy is a waste of time, Mister Mason.”
“Roger that,” Mason said.
“Let’s get it done, gentlemen. You have two hours to make ready for the fold. Keep your boards in the green and keep the non-essential radio chatter to a minimum. That is all,” the admiral said.
One of his aides called the room to attention. Haad dismissed the group and they started to shuffle out.
“Captain Yorn, a word?” Haad said.
Yorn stepped to the side of the hatch and let the rest of the room clear. A minute later he was alone in the ready room with Haad and his two aides. “Congratulations, Admiral Haad,” he said. “You seem to be taking to the wheel with practiced aplomb.”
Haad clapped him on the shoulder and invited him to sit. “This shit is so different, Davi. Not what I expected at all. I mean, I can think back to all the times I had to sit through those dumb-ass briefings by some non-linear thinking asshole from Fleet; now, I guess, the asshole is me.”
Yorn chuckled and offered his friend a few platitudes to ease his mind. Yorn told Haad about the Christi and her readiness profile. Yorn thought her ready and able, even if a bit sluggish. She was sporting almost 90,000 tons of clear-coat now.
“She’ll be fine, trust me. Once you get that mass moving, the Christi of old will be there.”
Yorn smiled and looked around the room, waiting for Haad to get to the real reason he wanted a private word. After so many years together, he knew the symptoms. “You wanted to have a word in private, sir?” Yorn asked with raised eyebrows.
Haad stood and started his pacing again. His hand brushed the three scars on the left side of his face, an absent-minded affectation Haad developed over the past ten years. “Davi, Holli’s pregnant. She told me just before I left Weyring.”
“Man, that’s what I call swift-boat operations,” Yorn said through a thin laugh.
“We, that is, Holli and I, well, we got pretty close on the Hudson. Must have happened the first time we made love. I forgot that she was an imbed. No hormone suppression like the female crew.”
“That’s great, sir.” Yorn stood and offered his hand.
“That’s what I told my tearful wife before I left for the dock. I was overjoyed at the prospect. Now, I’m not so sure. She’s going to have a hell of a time going through all of that by herself. With this damned war going on, I don’t know how much I’m going to be around to help her.”
“You underestimate her, Uri. I think she’s a very strong woman and you shouldn’t worry about her. She’ll do just fine.”
“Which is why I wanted to talk to you,” Haad said. He was standing face to face with his most trusted ally in the Colonial Navy. His voiced dropped to just above a whisper. “If anything happens to me, Davi, I want you to take care of her and the kid. I know, I know. The kid is months away and I’m probably going to be okay, but, just in case, tell me you will look out for her if something happens to me. A personal request, friend to friend.”
Yorn assured him he would do as he was asked. The officers exchanged man-hugs and Yorn headed for the hatch. “Thanks for sharing that, sir. I will be honored to serve in that capacity should it become necessary. In the meantime, I have a boat to prepare,” he said with a broad smile and a salute.
Haad returned the salute and watched him disappear through the hatch. His aide pulled the hatch closed and pumped the lever. Haad pulled his reader off the shelf behind his table and thumbed it on.
For the next twenty minutes he made notations into his log and prepared himself for the bridge. A dozen men awaited his sailing commands.
His wife awaited his return.
Chapter 38
What has started out as a simple coil replacement had turned into a major overhaul. The engine coils surrounding the Dyson Drive mechanism on the Deception all had to be replaced. Hydrogen embrittlement of the metal. Bale Phatie wondered if this problem was endemic of the hybrid design and affected all of his flotilla or if this was an isolated event particular to this one ship.
Wanting to err on the side of caution, he ordered visual inspections of all engine components on all ships. After two days of idling in the void, still a full day away from Wilkes, he was satisfied his attack group was ready to make the final push.
The down time had afforded Phatie the opportunity to visit and inspect each ship in turn once he left the Deception. Nothing escaped his critical scrutiny. On the Corruptor he executed two sailors he found out of uniform and engaged in childish horseplay. The Malevolent crew lost one officer to the Piru Torgud’s sword. The word spread fast and by the time Phatie disembarked from his shuttle onto the hangar deck of the Disrupter all commands had been alerted. He found nothing untoward aboard that ship and spared all hands.
Once back on the bridge of the Decimator the bo
dy count stood at fifteen. He demanded an update from the captain of the Deception. He did not like the answer he received.
“After two days you still have not managed to refit your coils, Captain Geedin. I cannot dally further. I will give you one more hour to complete your retro-fit. I you have not completed your repairs by that time, I will have to leave you behind.”
“Sir, we are working around the clock and I have all three crews committed to the enterprise. Hydrogen containment coils are not like a child’s play things. The containment collar must be precisely aligned otherwise we risk containment breach while under power.”
Phatie adjusted his hands on the handle of his sword. Had Captain Geedin been within striking distance his head would be rolling across the metal gratings. “Are you lecturing me on the dangers of space travel, captain?”
“No disrespect was intended, my eminence. I was merely trying to point out the delicate nature of the repairs. One mistake could doom my entire crew.”
Phatie took two steps closer to the comm alcove, subconsciously bringing him nearer to his recalcitrant officer. “Hear this, Geedin. I will not hazard this mission for the sake of one malfunctioning boat. I will not leave you here to drift helpless in the void, easy pickings for the Colonial Navy. Should they board you, I’m not sure about your resolve to keep this mission secret. You leave me no alternatives, captain.”
“My eminence —”
Phatie drew his finger across his throat and the comm officer cut the transmission immediately. “Admiral Reegid. Bring the ship about. Prepare your weapons.”
The Belt Loop (Book Three) - End of an Empire Page 23
