“Ahhh,” Jacob murmured. “All of us appreciate your patience with our slowness. Continue monitoring all aspects of local space-time. I wish to know when new starships arrive, whether I am asleep, eating or otherwise occupied.”
“Does this order apply during your sexual activities?”
Daisy winced. This AI was too damned noisy!
“It does,” Jacob said. “The safety of this ship, its crew and your safety is one of my primary duties. Please comply.”
“Happily do I comply, my handsome human!”
Daisy turned her attention to her ship cross-section holo as the AI fell silent. She did not wish to make eye contact with anyone. While Alicia was the married mom of three girls and fully understood what it meant to be in love, still, she did not care for the AI’s blatant reference to her and Jacob’s relationship. Which of course was known to everyone on the Lepanto. At least her friends at the back of the Bridge understood the need for courtesy. They weren’t AIs. They were good people. And she cared for them a lot, especially Carlos who had had to respond to work orders from Aarhant Bannerjee. That man was a pest and a danger to them all. What would the chief of Navigation Deck do and say when the Earth relief fleet arrived? She hoped it was not too insubordinate. Then she found herself wishing it was. She had visited the Battlestar’s block of brig cells with Jacob, not long ago. He had gone there to see how well the cells had been cleaned after the latest crowd of liberty drunks had sobered up and returned to their quarters. She had gone with him as his XO. The cleanup had been just one of the dozens of duties she had discovered were the province of a ship’s XO. Briefly she wished to be just a pilot flying her LCA through space and a world’s atmosphere. Then she reminded herself that if she had done just piloting, she, Jacob and the rest of the battle group might have become vapor during the sneak attack by the wasps at Kepler 22. Perhaps there was a value to tending to XO duties.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jacob did not glance at the digital clock that glowed above the front wallscreen. He knew what it said. It was 49 days, eleven hours and four minutes since the Ofira had left for Earth and Earth Command. A simple trip to Earth with an immediate return would take 45 days based on traveling 25 light years a day across the 564 light years to Earth. He assumed it would take Earth Command some days to pull together a fleet of ships to send their way. But how long? Surely they would send him some support! He felt irritable. It wasn’t due to his seat. The cushioned thing had long ago make its automatic adjustment to his body shape. Just as every seat on every deck of the Lepanto worked to accommodate the sitter. A simple bit of tech and programming.
Below him sat Daisy, Richard and Alicia. Behind sat Lori, Carlos and Quincy, with Kenji on call to bring in food trays during the morning shift. Ahead of him stretched the arc of nine work stations. From left to right were Power, Tactical, Weapons, Engines, Navigation, Communications, Gravity, Life Support and Science. Sitting at those posts were the shift crew he had first encountered when he and Daisy had entered the Bridge and talked to Andrew Osashi, the senior member in terms of service years.
He looked up at the wallscreen. It glowed with multiple images. Ahead was a true space view of white star dots against a black tapestry, with the white sweep of the Milky Way occupying the lower right of the image. The world Valhalla and its moon were behind his ship, which floated in space in company with the other seven ships that made up the battle group. Their position looked outward toward the expected arrival point of the relief fleet. He shook his head and looked at the rest of the screen. On the left was the situational graphic that showed planets, the local star, the Star Navy base and the eight battle group ships that were all that stood between 71,000 humans and the wasp enemy. On the right was a sensor display that reported on incoming cosmic rays, muons, electrons, radio emissions from the small gas giant in the sixth orbital, and the fleeting dots of neutrino emissions from the system’s yellow star and all the stars of the galaxy. It was a busy image.
“Detection!” called Daisy from below. “New cluster of moving neutrino emissions now showing at the edge of the magnetosphere! Location matches Earth departure point. Thirteen emissions showing. Captain?”
He sat straighter in his seat, giving thanks he wore the formal Service Dress Blue outfit of white combo cap with visor, blue jacket, four-in-hand necktie and blue slacks. His jacket cuffs carried the four gold stripes and single gold star of a captain. His silver eagle was pinned to his left chest, just above the Operation StarFight service ribbon. Everyone else on the bridge wore Type III woodland camo uniforms. Their vacsuits were available whenever combat seemed likely.
“Communications, send a neutrino signal to the strongest neutrino source. Ask for the commanding officer.” He looked up. “Melody, establish an immediate neutrino vidcom link with every ship in our group. I want their captains to hear everything that is said. Send a similar link demand to Captain O’Sullivan on the station. Also, transmit out all that happens here on the All Ship vidcom.”
“Neutrino vidcom links established, my handsome captain,” the AI said in her distinctive soprano. “All Ship feed now happening.”
The top of the wallscreen changed to show every ship captain. Rebecca and George were in the middle of the line of seven images. A second later he saw Billy O’Sullivan appear at the far right of the image line. Eight faces stared at him.
“Captain,” called Rosemary from Tactical. “My sensor read on the thirteen emissions says one of them is a Battlestar like us. A second is the Ofira, based on its unique emission track. The other sources appear to be three cruisers, five destroyers and three frigates.”
Jacob felt relief, then sudden worry. Why just one Battlestar? Earth had built five Battlestars, with the Lepanto being the most recently built. Earth Command could have sent two or more Battlestars to Kepler 10. At least the thirteen ships moved the total Earth defense force up to 21 ships of the line.
“Incoming neutrino vidcom signal,” called Andrew. His shoulders stiffened. “It’s from the Battlestar. Going up on the wallscreen.”
A new image filled the middle of the screen.
Shock filled Jacob as he recognized the admiral sitting in his elevated Bridge seat. His father!
“Captain Renselaer, I am Fleet Admiral Gordon F. Renselaer,” his father said in a stiff, formal voice. The man’s dark brown eyes stared straight at Jacob. “Give me a battle group status report. And are there any wasp ships in this system? My group is prepared to fight.”
“Sir, admiral, a single wasp ship that is heavily damaged now orbits planet three, with my permission, as part of an effort to establish friendly relations,” Jacob said. Below his father sat an American Indian man dressed in Service Dress Blue with captain’s stripes and eagle. Next to the captain sat a black woman also in Service Dress Blue, whose silver oak leaf showed her to be a commander. She must be the ship’s XO. He noticed that all three wore transparent vacsuits, with the flexible helmets hanging back.
“There is no threat to Valhalla, the Star Navy base or to our battle groups. Lepanto ship status is Alert Combat Ready.” Jacob paused, his mind reeling at the fact of his father being in command of the relief fleet. “My status report is this. After the departure of the Ofira for Earth Command, I led the battle group into this system and set up a defensive formation to protect the world Valhalla. Star base Captain Billy O’Sullivan, who is now watching our discussion along with the other ship captains, regularized my assumption of command by approving my field commission as a captain. Shortly thereafter a wasp fleet of six ships entered this system. They were the surviving ships from the last battle in Kepler 22. They came in-system and attacked. Our fight with them resulted in the destruction of another wasp ship, the loss of our frigate Marianas and an attack on Valhalla by a damaged wasp ship. We were able to prevent mass casualties, with limited damage to the capital of Stockholm. Four wasp ships turned about and left the system, leaving the damaged fifth ship on its own. That ship fled out to the system’s K
uiper Belt and hid inside a large comet.”
Jacob took a deep breath. His father had on his formal, I Am In Charge face, a look he knew too well. “Later, I authorized the destroyer Philippine Sea to pursue the damaged enemy ship at its hideout in the comet. She launched three assault Darts, with the objective of capturing wasp communication tech and wasps, in order to establish pheromone communications with the captives. The Dart Marines were led by Chief Warrant Officer Richard O’Connor, who sits below me. One Dart and its pilot were lost in that operation. The other Darts returned with four wasp captives and bags of wasp tech. Subsequent work by my Science Deck chief Lieutenant Alicia Branstead, who also sits below me, has resulted in limited communication with the captive wasps by way of a modified pheromone signaler. The other component of my Command team is my XO, Lieutenant Daisy Stewart.” Jacob tapped a patch on his armrest. “I am sending you the complete video record of the first battle, our defense of Valhalla, the vital assistance of Captain O’Sullivan in defending that world, the second battle by our Marines, and imagery of the captive wasps.” He gripped the ends of both armrests. “At present, the StarFight battle group is repaired and fully combat ready. What are your orders, sir?”
His father looked aside at one of the holos surrounding his seat, watched a moment what Jacob assumed was the space combat portion, then looked back to him. The muscles in his clean-shaven face tightened. “Your battle group has done well. You did well in discovering the wasp killing of the group’s senior officers. My Tactical officer says your battle formations in Kepler 22 were creative and appropriate.” As the man paused, Jacob told his fast-beating heart to be still. His father had always been limited in his approval of Jacob. Usually he said “Well enough” about anything Jacob did or accomplished in school. Even his graduation from the Stellar Academy had earned only a “Good to see it” from the man. “Since there is no immediate enemy threat, I will proceed to regularize this situation. You are relieved of command of your battle group. They are now part of a combined battle formation led by my Battlestar, the Midway. You will continue in command of the Lepanto, in view of Captain O’Sullivan’s granting of a field commission to you. My assumption of command over all Earth ships in this system is not a reflection on you, your staff or the other acting captains of your battle group. All of you were . . . brave and fought well. However, this encounter with a dangerous alien species requires the experience and abilities of senior line officers. That is why Earth Command ordered me out of retirement and into command of this relief force. Is that understood?”
Jacob licked his lips. He had been preparing himself for the loss of battle group command for weeks now. Still, it was hard to hear. Harder still to accept. “Admiral, I accept your order transferring battle group command. I will continue to hold the Lepanto ready and able to participate in any battle formation you order.”
His father blinked. Was he surprised at Jacob’s acceptance? “Now that your battle group status report is finished, I have further orders for the ships in the StarFight expedition. From here on out, all deck staff officers are part of the chain of command on the ship they serve on. We cannot allow a repeat of your irregular situation.” His father paused. Below him the Black woman and the Sioux man continued their neutral expressions as Earth’s only five star admiral laid out a new reality. “For the Lepanto, you may order your succession as you wish, whether it be by rank or by years of service. Second, ship status change codes must be shared beyond the Command Deck officers. You are ordered to share the code with at least one staff officer, in addition to sharing it with your XO and Chief O’Connor. Earth Command’s prior orders to limit travel between decks by members of other decks is hereby rescinded, along with the exclusion of deck staff officers from the formal chain of command. Carry out my order.”
Jacob nodded slowly, thinking fast. “Fleet admiral, I agree that this new arrangement will provide for a clearer and more efficient chain of command on any ship that suffers the loss of all Command Deck officers. For the Lepanto, I hereby designate Lieutenant Alicia Branstead, who sits to my lower right, as the staff officer next in line of command. She will be succeeded by other staff officers based on their rank.” He wondered what his father thought of his friends sitting at the rear of the Bridge. “I have already shared the ship status change code with my XO, who sits to my lower left, and with my Tactical Officer, Chief O’Connor. I will provide a copy of the code to Lieutenant Branstead, who has done outstanding work in creating a basic English-to-wasp translation program. Sir, will you approve my promotion of her to the full Commander level?”
His father blinked again, then frowned briefly. “My record of your ship officers and those of the other battle group ships says she is a full Lieutenant at present. You propose to jump her two ranks?”
“I do, sir. Her deck’s efforts at observing, recording and building a basic vocabulary of English-to-wasp pheromone talk is a major achievement. It offers us the chance to negotiate with the wasps.” Jacob tapped his armrest transmit patch once more. “I’m sending you the latest cartoon video she prepared and which I ordered transmitted to the damaged wasp ship. It proposed the wasps occupy planet three in this system, with humans staying on Valhalla and the two species meeting in space for mutual trade.”
The Indian captain’s black eyebrows rose up. The man looked like a Sioux, based on Jacob’s memory of a Sioux he’d met at the Stellar Academy. The XO pursed her lips. Neither said anything. Above them his father’s right hand tapped slowly on his armrest. He knew that look. It was the look that said ‘You Try My Patience’.
“What was the wasp ship response?”
“The return video proposed the transit of their ship into this system and its orbiting above planet three, which has the half gee and jungle world nature that is identical to the Kepler 22 world they colonized.” Jacob licked his lips and hoped his father would not verbally harass him. “I agreed to that action so long as the wasp ship stayed at least five AU away from Valhalla while in transit. I then sent the Philippine Sea to meet and follow the wasp ship to planet three, which leads Valhalla in its orbit about the local star. Spysats left by the Sea report the wasps have made a dozen trips down to the planet’s surface, apparently doing the usual survey of that world’s geology, chemistry and wildlife.”
His father glanced aside again at one of his holos, looked thoughtful, then returned his attention to Jacob. “Captain Renselaer, I approve the field promotion of Science Deck chief Alicia Branstead to Commander rank. Her work and her 25 years of service in the Star Navy warrant the promotion.” The man’s expression moved from routine to command serious. “However, your suggestion of an armistice with these wasps is premature. Based on their prior actions, and their leaving of a ship behind to keep an eye on Kepler 10, I can only assume they plant to return. I expect them to send a large wasp formation that will aim to destroy our colony on Valhalla and take possession of planet three. That was their aim when their depleted fleet arrived here. I see no reason for them to change their aggressive behavior.” The man paused, although his look warned Jacob to not argue.
“I accept your estimate of our tactical and strategic situation,” Jacob said. “With your permission, Commander Branstead will continue her conversation with the captive wasps. What else do you wish done by Expedition StarFight ships?”
The muscles in his father’s jaw tightened. He leaned forward slightly. It was a look Jacob knew well. His father was going to give him an order that brooked no argument.
“The Lepanto and all other ships of the StarFight formation are hereby ordered to join my battle group at the point on the magnetosphere where the wasp ships left,” he said. “I propose to adopt formations and battle actions different than what you have done. The wasps are not stupid. The returning wasps will expect your group to still orbit above Valhalla, to protect that world the way you protected it during the last battle.” His father smiled in a way that had no humor. “Instead, our two battle groups will be arranged in battle f
ormation at the exact spot where the wasps will exit Alcubierre space-time. With luck, many of their ships will be in range of our two antimatter cannons. With determination our groups will destroy a large number of wasp ships before they break arrival formation and move beyond the range of our beams.” His father looked down at the Black woman. “My XO, Commander Marjorie Jones, has developed a most attractive battle formation for our 21 ships. You and your ships will follow that plan.”
Jacob felt surprise leavened with relief. His father was not going to give him a verbal spanking in front of all the ship captains. Nor had the man said he had done wrong in allowing the wasp ship to get to planet three. And it was clear the ‘hero’ of the Callisto Conflict had studied the vid records brought to him by the Ofira. Which reminded him of a detail.
“Your order is accepted. The Lepanto and other ships in StarFight will shortly head out to rendezvous with you.” Jacob looked over to Louise. “Navigation, transmit the new coordinates for the wasp ship arrival and departure point to Fleet Admiral Renselaer.” Jacob looked up, meeting his father’s intense look. “Sir, earlier I ordered my Navigation Deck team to use all records of wasp ship arrival and departure to establish a tight X, Y, Z location of the wasp ship departure point. That location data is now being transmitted to you. It should allow our ships to get within 500 kilometers of the likely arrival point of the incoming wasp fleet.”
“Good.” His father looked aside, perhaps to his own Navigation station person. “It’s received. We will head for that exact coordinate point. Do you require further guidance?”
Jacob sucked in his breath. “I do. Will the Ofira return to the StarFight group? And why did Earth not send more Battlestars to Kepler 10?”
Battlegroup (StarFight Series Book 2) Page 15
