Hawk Flight (Flight of the Hawk Book 3)

by Robert Little

  The captain smiled faintly – again – and stood, signaling the end of the meeting. He held out his hand, and after a firm shake said, “Lt., if you had your choice of serving in Engineering, Weapons or on the bridge, what would you choose?” Shin Ho was now standing, and almost smiled – this last question was the entire reason for the conversation, “Sir, the bridge.” The captain asked, “Not Engineering?” Shin Ho smiled, “A warship is like a sword; Engineering keeps it sharp, the officer in command gets the opportunity to put some nicks in the edge.” The captain smiled broadly, “Where did you read that?” Shin Ho said, “Sir, that is what I feel, what I have always felt.”

  The captain nodded, “An appropriate response for an officer serving on a warship. The orderly will show you to your quarters. When you are settled in, please report to the bridge. You have a great deal to learn.”

  In the outer office, the female ComTech 3 said, “Sir, will you follow me?”

  He was led into Officer’s Country. He shared a tiny stateroom with another JG, who was not present. He dumped his duffle bag on the upper bunk, quickly changed into a working uniform, carefully checked his reflection and left the cubicle.

  He followed an illumined bright blue line in the deck, one of several, and arrived at the armored bulkhead leading to the bridge. An armed Marine sentry saluted and opened the hatch for him. He returned the salute and nodded his thanks as he stepped into a large and spacious wonderland. This wasn’t a whale, but it also wasn’t the Fish.

  Chapter 9

  Lt. Junior Grade Alexi Tretiakov, the Federal Destroyer Tillotson

  Alexi stood on the bridge. He was observing the captain run down a suspicious contact. They were well inside the orbit of Nasser, and in a region of space that had billions of years in the past been swept clear of debris, making it difficult for the ship they were running down to hide, and due to the proximity to a large gravity source, impossible to jump.

  Alexi had now spent six months in Engineering. Due to six double shifts a week, it seemed like much, much longer. The department still had a large number of issues, but Engineering’s ability to generate power was reasonably assured, and the captain was beginning to train him up on bridge operations. He had become very comfortable in Engineering, but at the moment he was reasonably uncomfortable with the large numbers of unknowns that duty on the bridge entailed. He was also thrilled.

  The captain ordered a course change to enable the Tillotson to cut the corner on the distant craft, whose IFF was not responding to the destroyer’s automatic queries.

  The captain turned to Alexi, “We’re out of range of a typical civilian ship’s passive detection systems, and they’re not operating their radar, so tell me why we just changed course.” Alexi answered, “If the unknown ship responds in any way to our course change, we learn something about its’ abilities.”

  The captain promptly asked, “Learn what?” Alexi said, “It would require military grade passive detection gear to detect us at this distance. If it has military detection gear, we have to assume it has military weapons.”

  The captain asked, “How long for the bogy to detect our course change, react, and for us to detect it’s reaction?”

  Alexi didn’t even look at the console, “Three minutes.” The captain had long ago asked Alexi to ease up on the ‘sirs’ when they were in training. He asked, “What if the bogy remains on course?” Alexi said, “We have to continue to assume that it has detected us and is armed.”

  The captain asked, “What would you assume is this ship’s destination?” Alexi finally hesitated, “Sir, unknown. There is nothing in this region of space, and there is no commercial or scientific station that it’s course would take it to.”

  The captain turned away from Alexi to scan his console. With his back still turned away, he quietly asked, “If you had the bridge watch, what would you do?”

  Alexi had already asked himself that question. He burned to learn who and what that ship was. However, he was naturally a subtler man than his friend Shin Ho, who would usually prefer to break down the door to find out what was on the other side. Shin Ho was a genius at breaking down doors, but Alexi had grown up on a very poor world, and success on Lubya meant that one learned that subtle was usually cheaper than direct. As a result, Alexi had far more patience, and preferred to look through the cracks instead of making them.

  He answered, “Sir, I would not rest until I knew who and what that ship was. To that end, I would be a little patient. If we remain undetected, he will eventually reveal something to us; if we have been detected, he will inevitably react, revealing something to us.”

  The captain promptly asked, “According to your estimate, right about now she ought to be registering our course change. Or not. Let’s observe a few more minutes.”

  Ninety seconds later the ship upped its’ acceleration. The captain asked, “Lieutenant?” Alexi said, “Six G’s. That’s a destroyer. Judging by the way it changed its’ acceleration, it is 2nd gen. That would make it the Défiance or the Fisk. As a guess, it’s the Fisk.”

  The captain smiled, “Why the Fisk?” Alexi said, “Sir the bridge officer of a 2nd gen ship is going to be gentle with his engines, ruling out the Défiance, but not the Fisk, which has just left the yards.”

  The captain nodded, and commed the unknown ship. As soon as the captain of the Fisk appeared Captain McClain said, “My JG just guessed that you are the Fisk.” Captain Zil asked, “How?” Captain McClain smiled, “He pinned it down to one of the other two destroyers in this region, and by the way you brought up your acceleration knew it was the one with a new plant.”

  They arranged to reverse roles and while the other captain sent for his own JG, Captain McClain made a radical course change and slowed to three G’s.

  Chapter 10

  The Tillotson slowly edged up against the huge orbital structure, moving the final few meters via ancient reaction thrusters that still had a place in space.

  Small, built-in gravity drivers in the dock ensured that the destroyer wouldn’t slam into the structure. Once the ship was secured and station power was connected, the captain ordered Engineering to shut down his fusion plants.

  Two hours later, Alexi received a forty-eight hour pass, his first leave of any substance since he was sworn in.

  He put on his Class B khaki uniform, carefully checked it for any defects, and after saluting the OoD and the flag, stepped off the ship. He was now free, if not totally.

  He caught a people mover into the civilian sector and wandered through a wonderland of stores, restaurants, offices for suppliers, insurance companies, and manufacturers. He had no destination in mind, save to get away from the ship.

  After an hour of sightseeing, he caught a Navy shuttle down to the huge complex of factories and warehouses that served Elyse’ naval presence. From there, he caught another free ride into nearby Jordan, a relatively large city on the more heavily populated southern continent.

  He had a list of hostels that were inexpensive and catered to the military, and via a couple of people movers was able to rent a room. He spent a little time just reveling in the seemingly huge amount of space he had, but hunger and a thirst for human contact drove him out into the street. He wandered for a joyous hour before entering a small diner. He ordered an inexpensive meal and loved every delicious bite of food.

  While he ate, the elderly woman who apparently owned the tiny establishment told him of a veterans association that was not far and provided a large number of services to active duty personnel. He made a note of the address and asked about nearby clubs. He realized that she somehow guessed he was just off of a ship. He knew that after six months on a 2nd gen destroyer, he and his clothing might possess a faintly detectable odor, but he thought it more likely it was behavior that gave him away. Food for thought.

  After finishing his meal he walked through the balmy spring evening to a large social club. Elyse’ constitution barred alcohol and drugs, but like every other religiously conser
vative system, where there was a will there was a way. In this case, the will was to drink and meet people of the opposite sex, and the way was greased by the practical consideration that visitors might not possess the same strict sensibilities as residents, but they did possess money.

  As a result, the cities with large military and civilian shuttle ports had created free zones where visitors – and locals – could sample beer, wine and hard liquors. Those zones sometimes provided additional amenities that were not so free, or strictly speaking, legal.

  Alexi was not looking to get drunk or laid, but he did want to meet people who were not in or even out of uniform; he wanted to listen to music and get a chance to talk to the people who made it and listened to it; he wanted to meet ordinary people. Even more importantly, he didn’t want to keep one eye and both ears focused on a computer that invariably signaled an emergency just as he settled into his bunk.

  The Club Paradiso was just what the lonely sailor wanted; it was close enough to the port that someone who spent all his time in the Engineering division could feel the subtle variations caused by the gravity drives of the shuttles that ferried people and freight between the city and the stars, and far enough away to avoid the majority of the rowdier elements of that port, the ones who actually handled the machinery that handled the people and the freight.

  Alexi settled into an empty booth and looked around. He had never before visited Elyse, and had in fact seen very little of Earth. Elyse was one of the most advanced colonies in the federation, enjoyed a very high standard of living, excellent education, and was rapidly developing large urban areas.

  From his table he ordered a local beer, largely because it was one quarter the cost of imported.

  There was a bandstand, and as he watched, a group of people filed out and began fiddling with instruments while quietly talking to each other with that verbal shorthand that all tightly knit groups used.

  Without an announcement they broke into song. It was a piece of music Alexi had never heard, but he’d long ago resigned himself to the reality that his home world was one of the most distant and socially backward.

  The musicians were very good, their music loud yet subtle, the lead singer not only a very good vocalist, but also quite pretty. He smiled in contentment.

  Some people gathered in front of the band and applauded at the conclusion of the song.

  By the time the group finished its set, there were over fifty people crowding the area in front of the stage, Alexi included.

  He left two hours later, having consumed just two beers; enough to satisfy him yet irritate the club, which had passed a message to his table to vacate it or place another order.

  He checked and discovered that the veterans association was just a couple of blocks away, so he walked through the cooling air to a surprisingly large building. He entered and looked up in surprise at a three-story high ceiling, intricately decorated with what appeared to be artistic representations of mostly naval battles, although he was surprised to see one that included Marines on the ground, with a mushroom cloud in the distance. He stopped in his tracks to stare upward in wonder. Part of his civilian education, as well as the military version, included history, and as he looked, he began to recognize scenes: the ceiling was a painted history of the civil war.

  A man bumped into him and apologized. Alexi looked around and realized that he was blocking the entrance. He told the man, “I’m so…” he stared in astonishment and finished, “Shin Ho!”

  Shin Ho Lee beamed in pleasure and the two men shook hands. Alexi knew from experience that Shin Ho didn’t mind crushing hands, so he was prepared and managed to survive yet another ordeal.

  Shin Ho asked, “When did you arrive? Oh, from the way you were staring upward, you’ve just walked in the door. What do you think?” Alexi said, “It’s incredible. When did you come in?”

  Shin Ho smiled, “Yesterday. I have a forty-eight. You?” Alexi nodded eagerly, “My first pass since school. Are you staying here? What is it like?”

  Shin Ho stared, “You’ve never been to one of these centers? They’re in every major city in human space. They were established after the civil war, and were an attempt to bring the federation back together. In fact, the organization that founded them still exists, although I don’t know if it’s run by the same people. Listen, have you checked in yet? There’s a wonderful club here that you’ll love, and I think a couple of our class mates are in port.”

  Shin Ho tugged Alexi into motion and irresistibly propelled him up to a counter. Alexi discovered that he was registering into a shared room with Shin Ho. Moments later, he learned that the association was sending a runner to gather the belongings he’d left in the hostel.

  The two men spent a surprisingly enjoyable hour in a coffee house inside the huge facility. They sat on low sofas, arranged in a loose circle, meeting and talking to a bewildering variety of enlisted men and women, as well as officers, ranging up to at least one full commander. The coffee was terrific, the conversation both familiar and strange.

  At one point, someone mentioned the ‘library’. Shin Ho glanced at Alexi who noticed his expression. He promptly stood and said, “Grab your cup; I’ve got something to show you.”

  He led Alexi, and a graying power production chief out of the comfortable room, down the hall, up some stairs and to another room, much smaller. Over the door Alexi read the legend, “Michel Dubois Library”. Shin Ho pointed to it and said, a smile on his lips, “Captain in the civil war.”

  They entered the room and Alexi looked around. It was more like a living room in a home than a library. Shin Ho pointed to a round table, surrounded by cushioned chairs. The three men sat and Shin Ho turned to Alexi, “Imagine that you’re in command of Engineering on, say, the Tillotson. You’re at battle stations and Load Balancing goes down.” Alexi smiled, “Not difficult to imagine that happening. And…?”

  Shin Ho continued, “And, what if, prior to that unhappy occurrence, you could pick the brains of hundreds of engineering officers, PowPro chiefs and even the original designers? What would that be worth?” Alexi smiled, “It might be worth my life.”

  Shin Ho said, “Michel Dubois was a rebel spy, now long dead, but to this day nobody knows exactly what he did during the war, save that he worked on the wrong side. He was one of the original members of the Chamberlin Foundation, and he personally opened dozens of these complexes on rebel worlds when it was virtually impossible for a former federal fleet commander – John Chamberlin – to show his face in the system. Later on, he developed this idea, this library. It contains the distilled answers to thousands upon thousands of everyday emergencies, breakdowns and disasters on nearly every warship, freighter, fighter and shuttle that’s ever been commissioned. I’m not talking book learning, I’m talking actual, personal descriptions by the men and women who solved – usually – the crises. Since I mentioned the Tillotson, let’s see what the system has to offer?”

  Alexi asked, “Michel Dubois was a rebel spy?” Shin Ho smiled in delight, “Apparently an exceptionally good one, judging by the fact that he was not only never caught, nobody ever even knew what he did or where he did it. Not even a rumor. Anyway, after the war, hundreds of thousands of veterans left the Navy and returned to civilian life. He realized that all that immense amount of wartime experience, gained at such a cost, was disappearing. He resolved to try to save as much of it as possible, thus this library. He developed, or had developed, what he called a ‘Wisdom System’. It is a program that leads you through a long series of questions. It’s much like a conversation with your professor – you find yourself sweating to remember exactly what you did, how you did it and what the results were. It’s all verbal, your own words and recollections. The program distills your answers and codifies them with all the thousands upon thousands of others, allowing the next guy to ask a question about, in this instance, load balancing on a Gen 2 destroyer. The system doesn’t provide you with blueprints, schematics and the like, it gives you verb
al and in a few cases, video answers to actual situations. You learn what your predecessors did. If you are at all competent, the verbal answers are like keys to a locked room, they open your mind in sometimes surprising ways to what has worked, and equally importantly, what didn’t.”

  Alexi stared in wonder, “Here?” Shin Ho looked up and said, “Arsinoe?” An accented woman’s voice filled the room, “How may I serve you?” Shin Ho asked, “Do you have any information on load balancing in the destroyer ‘Tillotson’?”

  The pleasant woman’s voice asked, “One moment please.” Almost immediately, it resumed, “Lieutenant Junior Grade Shin Ho Lee, you are authorized. Please choose from among the following choices: Load Balance cabinet, energy load balancing in general, load balancing in stores, load balancing in crewing time sheets, load balancing with reference to racial, political, cultural or sexual issues, load balancing in fleet actions.”