Also by Robert Little….
Josh Carter, DHS series
Agent Carter, DHS: Arroyo Grande
Agent Carter, DHS: Goleta
Agent Carter, DHS: Ciudad Juarez
Agent Carter, DHS:
Agent Carter World
Zane Grey, FSS: Highway 17
Duct Tape Mermaid
Cloudy With A Chance Of Pain
Mad
Temperance
Agent Carter, DHS: Butte
Agent Carter, DHS: Clearwater
Home No More
Valentine’s Day (Upcoming, 2017)
Temperance Too (Upcoming, 2017)
Flight of the Hawk Series
Hawk Genesis: War
Hawk Genesis: Peace
Hawk Flight
Hawk Seven
Leaf War (Upcoming, 2017)
Bob’s Life Series
Bob’s Life Up To Now, Volume I
Bob’s Life Up To Now, Volume II
Bob’s Life Up To Now, Volume III
Bob’s Life Up To Now, Volume IV
Hawk Flight – Rank And File
Part I - Insurrection
Chapter 1
Edwards Air & Space Academy, California,
United States of North America, Earth System
A forest of black striped white caps flew into the air, accompanied by loud shouts from the sixty-three former plebes. A large audience, composed nearly entirely of cadet family members rose to its feet and loudly applauded.
Alexi Tretiakov looked briefly at the stands, but knew that he would not have family present. He was from Lubya, and his family, while very large, was poor and about as far away from Earth as a human could get.
In fact, he was the first member of his extended family to leave Lubya since its’ arrival four generations earlier. He was also the first member to enter military service, and possibly more importantly, he was the first to earn a degree.
Newly minted Lt. Jr. Grade Tretiakov stood 1.93 meters tall, weighed barely enough for his height, and was also barely able to meet the reasonably stringent physical qualifications of the Academy. He survived the long runs in stifling heat, and the seemingly equally long swims, something he’d never even contemplated doing on his frigid planet, and never once questioned why officers on interstellar warships needed either ability.
Publicly.
His final placement at number six was due almost entirely to two attributes: his ability to think outside of the box as well as inside, and to know when to switch; and to his intense dedication to achieve success.
Standing one row in front of Lt. Tretiakov stood Lt. Jr. Grade Shin Ho Lee, looking around at the survivors of five grueling years. Unlike Alexi, Shin Ho had family present. He was the number one graduate, and had been first in his class for nearly the entire five years. Lt. Lee stood two meters tall, was physically powerful and had routinely aced the physical requirements. He had required a little tutoring with his math, but his reasoning skills were excellent and he had proved to be utterly unflappable under stress, which of course, had been diligently and liberally applied over the entire five years.
Standing in front of the assembled newly minted officers, burly, weather-beaten Senior Chief Khadem remained at parade rest. For the entire five years these men and women had lived at Edwards, he had been the direct conduit of that stress, and had conducted much of the physical conditioning. Moments earlier he had become the first to salute the newly commissioned officers. The utter lack of expression on his face was somewhat unusual – he’d spent most of the previous five years looking distinctly unhappy.
A fleet admiral strode up onto a dais and the chief shouted, “Ten hut!” The admiral briefly looked at the young men and women arrayed before her, idly wondering if they could recognize the insignia of an admiral of the fleet, and after putting them at parade rest, began, “Invited guests, families, officers and enlisted, on behalf of the Federal Navy, I am proud to officiate at the induction of the three hundred, thirteenth naval officer class of Edwards Federal Training Base.”
She glanced up at the October sun and smiled, “Due to the unseasonably hot weather, I’ll limit my remarks.” She paused for the scattered laughter – Edwards was situated in the desert - and continued, “This installation dates back to before the dawn of the space age, and has always been at the forefront of the development of, first, aviation technology, and later, the development of the officers who today crew our warships. The world’s first reusable space ship frequently landed here after orbital missions; the first space plane to take off and go into orbit and return under its’ own power, without the assistance of external boosters, made it’s first flight from Edwards. As you should know, the first operational Navy ion drives were developed and tested here, allowing mankind access to the outer solar system, and of course, the worlds’ first operational anti-gravity drive was developed right here by the United States of America, predecessor to the United States of North America.”
“The first orbital assembly station was designed here, and just a few hundred meters from where you now stand, its’ components were lifted into orbit in prototype shuttles. Today, Edwards is no longer engaged in the development of technology, although considerable pure research is conducted both here and in nearby areas of this state. Today, this base is dedicated to something far more important than technology – the creation of a corps of professional naval officers.”
“Ships and their technology are relatively easy, but the training and development of the men and women to crew those ships is akin to art, one we continue to strive to master. In our recent history are found a number of instances where officers and crews failed their oath to the Federation, failed the nearly forty systems that make up that federation, and failed the billions of human beings who depend on the Navy to maintain the integrity and unity of the federation, and the freedom of passage of all citizens.”
“The moment you were sworn in, you assumed the duty to defend the constitution; as of that moment, you joined the nearly three hundred thousand men and women who are all that stand between us and anarchy. I tell you true - yours is a sacred duty.”
She paused to take a drink and quickly wipe her brow – It was nine in the evening, but it was still hot, and the tradition that placed them outside and under the stars that were now visible, and that they would be traveling between, trumped mere comfort.
She resumed, “I wish to speak briefly about my last comment, that of ‘sacred’. According to information gleaned from your induction interviews, sixty-three percent of all cadets are active in organized religion. That average rises to seventy-two percent of all graduates. It would seem that having a belief structure that includes the existence of a Creator, and the subsequent standards of conduct that belief engenders, is of some assistance to the cadets who struggle through our courses. The Federal Navy officially takes no position on the matter. Unofficially, it goes to great lengths to accommodate the great variety of religious beliefs that today make up our civilization. However, no matter your beliefs, you are now engaged in an undertaking that is crucial to the continued existence of humanity, and I consider that to be a sacred undertaking, one that from this moment, trumps your religious beliefs. I want you to consider for a moment what I have just told you.”
She paused and looked at the wilting officers, “Some of our colonized worlds were settled principally by members of one or another faith; Nasser, Elyse, Zion and a couple of others come to mind; some were formed by largely national groups, such as Maya, Grenoble, Orleans, Aditi, Fujian and so on; finally, some were organized along largely commercial lines. In most cases, their development morphed into either a
largely cultural or national effort. No matter the original genesis for the colony, the result has been that we have managed to export to the stars our ancient nationalities and religious tensions and differences.”
“I strongly believe in heterogeneity, believe it to be the one sure way to ensure our unity, and strongly believe that the differences in viewpoints will eventually create a stronger federation. Unfortunately, the civil war showed us that the exodus to the stars has at least temporarily added to the forces for disunity. Many if not most sociologists believe that we have come back from the brink of a potential collapse of the federation, but they uniformly agree that the continued unrest among a small number of systems presents great challenges to the Federal Navy, which is to say…to you.”
She took a long drink, smiled wryly, and resumed, “Upon the conclusion of my remarks, which you will be grateful to know is imminent, you will most probably wish to spend a few moments with family and friends. I encourage you to do so: when you return to barracks, you will find your postings. Within twenty-four hours all of you will be in space, and if you’ve been listening to the news, you know why. Six of you are to report to the carrier Vikramaditya, five to the Carrier Bon Homme Richard, and the balance to escorts. Most of you will find yourselves on destroyers, and most of those are second generation, meaning they left the yards as many as one hundred years ago. Three of those destroyers have just been recommissioned and will be undergoing what are essentially shakedown cruises. For those of you who find yourselves on one of those ships, I suggest that prior to your departure you get as much sleep as possible – you won’t be getting much after you report. Three of you have been assigned to the light cruiser Los Angeles. This is a new class of ship and is primarily designed to protect the two carriers of the group. She has experienced the usual teething problems but is expected to successfully conclude her trials in time to make the deployment. Said deployment has been moved back due to the addition to the group of the Bon Homme Richard and three additional destroyers. You can expect that your tour will extend beyond the typical six months, and frankly, due to deteriorating conditions in your operational area, you can also expect to see some combat. This concludes my remarks. May God have mercy on our souls.”
The admiral waited a beat as an officer called the ranks back to attention and dismissed them. She quickly stepped down off the dais and gestured to the chief to join her. She gratefully stepped inside a nearby environmentally controlled building and headed for a buffet table. The chief followed at a militarily correct distance. The newly commissioned officers and their families would soon be entering, but for the moment they were alone.
She was handed an iced tea and after taking a long swallow, asked, “Senior chief, your take on this class?”
Over the course of ten years the newly minted admiral and the enlisted man had served together on three ships and were now concluding a period of earthbound duty. He casually glanced around to ensure they were alone, and said, “Sir, in addition to Lieutenants Lee and Cordova, I believe that Lt. Tretiakov merits watching. He comes from Lubya, is the first of his family to enter the military, but despite these handicaps he went from nearly flunking out to become one of the standouts of this class.”
She nodded, took another long drink, “I have not yet handed out assignments to either Lee or Cordova. Tretiakov is being sent to the Tillotson. Your opinion?” The chief said, “That ship was almost sent to the breakers, and if it doesn’t kill him it should provide an excellent test of his mettle. If you’re asking, I’d provide the other two with similar…opportunities.”
She smiled faintly, “And, senior chief, if I’m not asking?” The chief stiffened to attention, although a tiny uptick at the corner of his mouth was a dead giveaway to his old friend, “Admiral Chin, in such a case, a summary court martial is warranted.” She smiled, “Every single officer who would sit on that board owes you their career. So, alternate suggestion?”
He said, “Sir, you are an officer with a distinguished record – you could not possibly have suggested that a military tribunal would be swayed by personal politics. That said, a satisfactory alternate would be a game of handball. Sir.”
She emptied her container and turned, “Twenty-two hundred, and bring you’re best game, I’m feeling lucky tonight.”
The enlisted man said, “Sir, with respect: luck is a necessary if infrequent ingredient of your game.” She laughed in delight and walked away.
Chapter 2
Lt. Lee stood in a small group of men and women, looking at the display. He was assigned to an ancient destroyer, the Fisk. One of his classmates said, “Sorry Shin Ho.” Lt. Lee shrugged, “I like challenges.” The happy woman said, “I’ve got the Los Angeles.” He frowned thoughtfully, “I heard that if it dropped into Earth’s atmosphere, it could possibly accelerate at up to one G.”
She smiled happily, “Under the same circumstances, the Fisk would require a tow.” He grinned, “No doubt, but if the Fisk required assistance, it would only be because towing the corpulent Los Angeles caused her engines to overheat.”
She shook her head, “Engines? The ‘Fish’ now has engines?” Shin Ho grinned, “Won in a poker game.”
Shin Ho turned as Lt. Tretiakov walked up, “Alexi, you’ve got the Tillotson.” Lt. Tretiakov nodded respectfully and scanned the board, “I see that you have the Fisk. I’ve heard that he has suffered numerous breakdowns.” He was smiling faintly, and Shin Ho grinned, “Yes, but then, so has the Tillotson. We’re fortunate.”
Lt. Graziela, a tall and strongly built female, looked puzzled, “Fortunate?” Alexi was still looking at Shin Ho, but answered quietly, “If the ship is able to perform its’ mission, its’ officers take the credit.” She shook her head, “The two of you are crazy – why would you prefer an ancient hulk to a brand new cruiser?”
Shin Ho patiently answered, “If the Los Angeles suffers breakdowns, admiralty will want to know to whom it entrusted it’s brand new ship; if these ancient destroyers perform satisfactorily, the admiralty will want to know the same thing, but for a very different reason.”
She shook her head, “It sounds logical, but I’ll share a comfortable stateroom with one other officer in a ship that actually works – you’ll be jammed into a small cubicle with double the number of smelly feet.” Shin Ho grinned like a pirate, “I doubt that I’ll spend any amount of time in my bunk.” She replied, grinning widely, “Or any other bunk.” He smiled and wiggled his eyebrows, causing her to laugh.
Lt. Tretiakov stretched out his hand and somberly shook Lt. Graziela’s hand, then Shin Ho’s. Holding his hand, Alexi told him, “I am grateful to you. I do not think I would have survived had it not been for your patient help.” Shin Ho shook his head, “Whatever help I gave you on the grinder, you repaid many times over by improving my alleged math skills.”
They looked into each other’s eyes, and then turned to walk away – Shin Ho to be with his family, Alexi to wait for the shuttle that would transport him to his ship.
Chapter 3
Lieutenant Junior Grade Shin Ho Lee, Aboard the Federal Destroyer Fisk
Shin Ho was shaken awake. He took a moment to become oriented and slowly dropped his feet to the deck. The seaman who had awakened him asked, “Sir, are you awake?” Lt. Lee shook his head, “The better question would be if I’d received any sleep.”
He sat up and waved his hand, “I’m up.” The young seaman turned to leave but stopped when Lt. Lee asked, “Who’s in engineering?” The seaman turned, “Sir, Lt. Singh. You have five minutes sir.”
Shin Ho stood, quickly dressed, almost ran down the passageway to the common head, splashed water in his face, checked his uniform and walked quickly to a ladder, dropped two decks and ran aft. He passed through the armored hatch and paused a moment to look at the Squawk Sheet, a monitor that listed the current discrepancies, error messages and recorded faults. It ran to forty-seven items, ten of them flashing red, meaning they were potentially critical.
He
reported to Lt. Singh, who wearily brought him up to date on the three tasks his people were working on.
Lt. Lee asked a few questions, and assumed responsibility for the engine room. According to the board, they were to jump during his watch, but the huge capacitors that stored the immense amounts of energy required to power a jump were presently down for maintenance – again.
Lt. Lee donned a pair of work coveralls and entered a large but crowded space. A young chief was supervising two Power Production technicians, who were using a portable lift to maneuver a one thousand kilo capacitor back into its brackets. The chief glanced at his officer but maintained his attention on the delicate task of maneuvering the heavy vessel into position. His two techs gently nudged the lift while the chief watched a small monitor. He said, “One more push.” A moment later he said, “Bring down the power to the lift – slowly.”
The massive capacitor clanged onto the deck, causing the chief to swear. One of the techs said, “Sorry chief, we had to jury rig the lift controls to get it to work at all.” The chief said something under his breath and carefully examined the readout. He turned to Lt. Lee and said, “Sir, we’ve replaced the two defective capacitors, and unless that last bump damaged this one, we should be able to power up within the hour.”
Hawk Flight (Flight of the Hawk Book 3) Page 1
