The captain below his father blinked quickly, then frowned. The XO was looking sideways, perhaps reviewing the several holos and videos he had sent their way. The man who had dominated him all his life sat back and looked impatient.
“The Ofira will return to the StarFight group. Captain Mansour was of good help when I presented my case to Earth Command for the sending of a relief fleet to Kepler 10.” His father paused, his face changing to a look of irritation. “When the Ofira arrived, there were only three Battlestars in Sol system. The Atlantic was out leading a group similar to StarFight in the hunt for new colony planets. Which left the Midway, Actium and Trafalgar available. The imagery of the meeting site destruction and that first attack on your group badly frightened the Unity politicians. They insisted on keeping two Battlestars at home to protect Earth, even though there is no way the wasps could know Sol’s location.” The admiral who had pushed him into the Stellar Academy gave a sigh that carried a hint of exasperation. “So I left with the Midway, the Ofira and eleven other ships. We came to you by way of the Kepler 78 colony, since it was possible wasp ships would already be in the Kepler 10 system. To date, no Earth ship has arrived here directly from Earth. And that is how we will keep things.”
Jacob’s mind filled briefly with the facts that Kepler 78 was 400 light years out from Earth, on roughly the same vector track as Kepler 10 and Kepler 22. All were part of the Cygnus constellation. The colony at Kepler 78 lived on an Earth-like world that lay in the middle of the G-type star’s liquid water ecozone. He nodded.
“Thank you for that information.” Jacob looked down to Alicia. “Commander Branstead, transmit to the Midway the most recent videos of our wasp captives, and your xenolinguist’s English-to-wasp vocabulary, along with the tech details of the pheromone speaker block.” He looked up. “Fleet Admiral Renselaer, perhaps your Science Deck people can add to the remarkable efforts of our Science Deck team.”
His father’s irritated look now changed to a thoughtful one that held a hint of approval. “I will convey that data to my Science Deck chief. It is always better to have more people working on such a unique problem.” He waved Jacob’s way, a gesture he knew meant approval. “The battles you and your ships fought were well done. The research of your Science Deck allows us an option to negotiate, once we bloody the . . . the antennae of these wasps.” The approval changed to a grim look. “However, the fact remains. The wasps carried out a sneak attack on your group’s senior officers, killing all of them, perhaps in the hope it would leave your ships uncertain and unprepared to fight back. Well, now they know humans can fight, and fight hard. They hit you with twelve ships. In exchange for the loss of two frigates, you have killed or damaged eight enemy ships. I like a four to one ratio. We may need that kind of result when the wasps return. And I like surprising the enemy in combat. Which is why our combined groups will fight in ways they have yet to experience. Carry out your orders.”
Jacob saluted his father. “This Battlestar and our fellow ships will join you within 52 hours. My staff are ready to respond to any inquiries from your staff. Lepanto out.”
His father’s image vanished.
On the wallscreen a new image appeared alongside the strip of other ship captains. It was the brown face and hawk-like eyes of Mansour. The Lebanese-American man looked tired.
“Arman, a hard trip back?”
He shook his head. “No. A very hard time in Sol system, having to sit at the side of your father as we were harangued by Unity politicians about why they just had to keep hold of two Battlestars and the bulk of the Star Navy. While the navy answers to President MacKenzie, he was clearly trying to reassure the other nations that make up the Unity. It was . . . tiresome to watch.”
Jacob could guess it was worse than tiresome. Infuriating, perhaps, in view of the true combat Mansour and his people had witnessed as they did their share in the first battles against the wasps. “You and the Ofira did the essential. You got word to America and to the Unity government. I saw enough of that Unity jabber during my years at the Stellar Academy. Several of their pollies came and went, each expecting a ride on our orbital trainer. Do you need anything? We’ll join you and the other ships in two days time.”
Mansour shook his head. “The Ofira is in fine shape. We restocked all the missile loads and plasma canisters we used in Kepler 22. Though I must admit some of my people are homesick for the feel of a normal world. Like Valhalla. Were many hurt during the wasp attack?”
Jacob felt ghosts looking over his shoulder. “The colony lost 343 dead and 471 injured in lightning bomb hits on the outskirts of Stockholm. The two nukes launched by the single wasp ship that got past us blew up over forested terrain with no villages. The low casualty levels were due to the sharpshooting by Captain O’Sullivan’s proton laser people and the folks on Lieutenant Jefferson’s ship.”
Mansour and his XO, a Chinese-American man who looked to be in his thirties, both looked relieved. In the group of images that ran atop Jacob’s wallscreen, O’Sullivan now leaned forward, looking concerned.
“Captain Renselaer, I’ve enjoyed having your ships and their crews as visitors to our station and down to Valhalla. Some of them volunteered to help with recovery work. Which, as you saw when you and Lieutenant Stewart landed, was much appreciated by the mayor.” His ally looked aside at something in the orbital base’s com room, which held only him. “Our moving neutrino sensors show the Earth relief fleet moving toward the wasp exit point. Let’s hope you and they arrive there before new wasps show up.” Billy’s hazel eyes met Jacob’s. “Have a safe trip. And in case you wondered, the Aldertag is permanently attached to your group for as long as you need her.”
Jacob had wondered. It was good news. His battle group was back to nine ships strong. “Billy, thank you. Reassure the folks down on the ground that they will be protected. No matter what happens.”
O’Sullivan’s tanned face turned thoughtful. “I know that. Star Navy base Green Hills out.”
Which left the images of seven ship captains watching from the top of his wallscreen. “Captains, you heard it all. Make ready to follow the Lepanto out to meet Fleet Admiral Renselaer within ten minutes. Are your ships ready to hit ten psol?”
“The Aldertag is eager to meet up with the relief fleet,” said Joan Sunderland, her manner relaxed yet serious, as one would expect from the former occupier of Callisto and guardian of each of Earth’s colony worlds as they were established. “May I say that while I accept the fact that the admiral is in overall command of all ships, my crew and I will never forget how your Lepanto shielded us from multiple wasp beams. This frigate would not be here today if it were not for the actions of your Battlestar.”
Jacob felt both pleased and too much on the spot. Then again, maybe feeling both emotions was part of being a good captain. “Joan, thank you. I’m sure . . . my father the admiral has some creative ideas on future combat formations. We’ll learn them once we arrive and take up position.”
“So we will,” she said. “Aldertag out.”
Her image disappeared, leaving six more. They were the captains of the Chesapeake, Hampton Roads, Tsushima Strait, Salamis, Philippine Sea and St. Mihiel. Each had been silent during the contact with his father. What did they think of the takeover?
“Jacob,” called Rebecca Swanson. “This transfer of battle group control was to be expected. I was certain Earth Command would send an admiral of some sort to lead operations here. Just never thought Earth’s only fleet admiral would be the one chosen.”
“Me either,” growled George Wilcox, his bulldog face pulled into a scowl. “We Brits understand fearful pollies. Had plenty of them in the old EU, before it became the Unity. Your president did what he had to do.”
Joy held up both hands in a So What? gesture. “Well, I for one am glad we are being led by the Butcher of Callisto,” she said, using a term for his father that Jacob had only read about. “He’s a born fighter. He did right to space those miners who tossed the St
ar Navy into vacuum. And I for one like the idea of zapping the wasp fleet the second after it emerges from Alcubierre!”
“I fully agree,” Jacob said quickly, not wanting his loyal ship captains to think otherwise. “It is the reverse of what the wasps have seen me and this battle group do. If we are to defeat a larger force, which I fully expect will appear, we have to take battle formations they have not yet seen. Or make adaptations of what we’ve already done that are better than our past choices.”
“Captain Renselaer,” called Chatur Mehta from the Salamis. “Your battle formations here and in Kepler 22 are what kept so many ships alive and able to fight. I was wrong to not join you earlier. You have my full allegiance now.”
Jacob felt something he had rarely felt. An older man, a man with years of starship service, had just said Jacob had earned his respect. Had this feeling of . . . of respect been something he’d missed from his father? The man had given him approval in front of all the captains and before Gordon’s own Battlestar officers. Did his father respect him? Maybe he would find out once they arrived at the magnetosphere rendezvous.
“Chatur, I thank you. The rest of you, follow us. Lepanto out.”
The images of the other captains disappeared, leaving only black space and white stars filling the middle of the wallscreen. On the right and left sides were the earlier situational and sensor images. He looked ahead.
“Navigation, set us a vector for that wasp exit point. Gravity, adjust deck gravity and our inertial damper to handle ten percent of the speed of light. Life Support, warn all decks that we are moving out. Communications, maintain our All Ship video feed. Power, are our reactors ready to feed the thrusters?”
Maggie Lowenstein looked aside at one of her station holos. “All three fusion reactors are at Battle Condition One. Ready to feed power as demanded.”
Jacob liked what he was hearing. “Tactical, alert me to any new neutrino source appearance.”
“On watch for new sources,” said Rosemary.
“Engines, bring the thrusters to full power.”
His feet felt a low vibration. It came from the metal pedestal that supported his seat.
“All three thrusters now firing,” called Akira.
“Weapons, stay sharp! Navigation, take us out.”
And with that final order Jacob realized he was no longer following his father’s example, or demand. He was a man, like his father, doing his duty. Both of them had faced danger and survived. Both of them had sworn an oath of service, an oath that Jacob had realized meant more than words during the first battle in Kepler 22. And both of them now moved to place their ships and their lives on the line of combat. With a start he realized that was what the Star Navy of America was all about. Defending those who must be defended and fighting all enemies of life, liberty and freedom. Inside, it felt good.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Daisy munched on her Southwest chicken salad in the Mess Hall, with her friends gathered around her table. Lori sat on her left, Carlos was across from her and Quincy was on her right. Kenji sat next to Carlos as he brought his own plate to the table. All four of them looked expectantly at her. Damn.
“Okay! Jacob is handling the change of command just fine. Believe me!”
“Really?” murmured Lori as she pushed a fork through a pile of spaghetti and meatballs. “He’s gone from running a fleet to just commanding the Lepanto. While his takeover of the Battlestar surprised me back in Kepler 22, it was necessary. And I like how he’s run the battle group ever since. He looks out for everyone.”
“That he does,” rumbled Quincy, laying his knife down atop the pork chop he’d been dissecting. “My blokes in the outrigger pod think the world of him.”
“Well, Bannerjee hates him,” Carlos said, his tone dismissive. “Course everyone knows the jerk had always been a ladder climber. He treats his two assistants as if they’re personal gofers. Neither like it. The woman who began sending me Nav assignments almost apologized. I told I could handle double duty.”
Daisy looked to Kenji, whose plate held a pile of Korean bulgogi beef. “What do you hear from the Spacers and enlisteds who come for meals?”
Kenji laid down his chopsticks and faced her. The tall, slim Japanese shrugged. “Most everyone likes the All Ship news sharing. We never got that during Admiral Johanson’s command. We were lucky to hear what was happening on Life Support Deck just above us, let alone elsewhere on the ship. And I like the new rules from the admiral. Makes sense to me to put the deck chiefs into the chain of command whenever Command Deck is zapped. And it’s good that any of us can travel to any deck now, not just keep to our own deck.”
Daisy thought the same. The admiral’s orders made official an easy-going policy Jacob had set in place during their Alcubierre transit to Kepler 10. Lori looked her way.
“You like being a full lieutenant?”
Her promotion was something Daisy still felt ill at ease with. “Not really. It goes with being the ship’s XO. But I am glad Jacob promoted Alicia to full commander.”
“Me too,” Lori said quickly. She took a sip of lemonade, then fixed her blue eyes on Daisy. “What do you think the admiral will do with our pheromone talker? We can almost hold a normal conversation now.”
Daisy had been following the frequent visits of Lori and Alicia to the Forest Room, always escorted by one or two of Richard’s Marines in full combat gear. While the four wasps had never tried to hurt any human, still, they were aliens. And just because there was talk possible now, it did not mean the wasps thought and felt the way humans did.
“Have no idea. It’s clear he plans to fight first, talk later, based on his orders to Jacob.” She looked past her friend and noticed the room was nearly full with crew who worked her shift. “But I’m sure Jacob has some ideas. Beyond the unsent cartoon that threatens to nuke planet three and their colony world if the wasps hurt Valhalla.”
Carlos frowned. “That threat may be all that protects our colony if the wasps arrive with thirty or forty ships. And that black hole weapon of theirs worries me. I never thought it was possible to create an artificial black hole. But these wasps did it.”
“That they did,” Quincy said quickly. “But our proton and carbo dioxide lasers can still hurt them. Jacob’s order to combine our laser fire was vital in that first battle. It’s proved critical ever since. At least our antimatter cannon has a longer range than their black hole weapon.”
“Barely longer,” murmured Lori. “And I did study gravitational theory in Moscow. Along with gravity plates and their range inside a ship. Just never thought putting them out on a ship’s hull could create a black hole effect.”
“None of us did,” Daisy said, glad the talk had moved away from Jacob. “Well, Dance Night is tonight. Kenji, Mr. Petty Officer Third Class, you gonna bring your Korean girlfriend to the dance?”
Her friend blushed. “Hey! I didn’t ask to be bumped up from Spacer! Your boyfriend did it to me.”
Daisy smiled. “You avoided my question. Are you bringing her?”
“I am!”
Daisy could tell from his blush and his tone that her friend did not wish his love life to be discussed at the table. Even though he had been the one to bring up hers and Jacob’s romance. She looked down at her plate. Her salad was half gone. And she had loads to do. There was a meeting with all deck chiefs in twenty minutes and she had to prepare for it. Jacob would be there and he relied on her. She liked being his right hand. But she didn’t like how the XO job gave her worry-worry dreams. She slid off her stool and stood up.
“Later, all. See you tonight!”
Her friends said their goodbyes along with one teasing comment from Lori. She ignored it and headed for the exit slidedoor. Lori’s question about the admiral’s intentions toward the wasp captives was something she wanted to work on. The deadly times since their arrival at Kepler 22 had taught her that being prepared saved lives. And kept her out of trouble. Too bad being prepared had never prepared her for fal
ling in love.
♦ ♦ ♦
Aarhant stared at the image of Fleet Admiral Renselaer. The man had awakened him from a sound sleep in his quarters on Habitation Deck. It must be about the video memo he’d sent the man not long ago, right after the admiral had taken command of all Earth ships. He sat up at the edge of his bed and faced the wall vidscreen that was just above his closed worktable. At least he wore a full pajama outfit.
“Admiral! I was off shift and—”
“You were sleeping,” the man rumbled in a low voice that sounded like a baritone, based on his memory of watching one of Miglotti’s operas. The admiral was calling from what looked like his office on the Midway. The man still wore his vacsuit over his formal Service Dress Blues. It made Aarhant feel unprepared.
“Yes sir.”
The man’s clean-shaven face showed no expression, other than intense focus. “You sent me a video about the actions of former Ensign Jacob Renselaer. You pointed out several actions of his which you feel were dangerous, ill-advised or wrong. What do you want?”
Aarhant swallowed hard. “Sir, I was hoping you would move me into command of the Lepanto. As the senior Lieutenant Commander among all staff officers, tradition and procedure would indicate I should be in command of this Battlestar.”
The admiral, he noted, did not wear the circle of five silver stars that denoted his fleet admiral rank. Though the sleeves of his blue jacket showed the requisite stripes. Not proper for an officer of his rank. Still . . . .
Renselaer slowly shook his head, then fixed Aarhant with a look that almost made him pee in his pajamas.
“Lieutenant Commander, you are one sorry son of a whore. Your record shows you to be an influence peddler and special pleader. Your parents at Earth Command have bailed you out of three compromising relations with subordinates.” The man lifted a white handkerchief and spit into it. “The taste of talking to you is . . . ” The man in charge of any ship in the Star Navy of America took a deep breath. “Earth and America are at war. This is not the time for petty jealousies and complaints. Tend to the proper functioning of your Navigation Deck and don’t ever again bother me with this trivia!”
Battlegroup (StarFight Series Book 2) Page 16
