Shock filled Aarhant. He’d never been talked to like this in his entire life.
“But sir! Insults are the wrong way to handle a legitimate—”
“You are an illegitimate son of a Mumbai whore!” the admiral growled. “In truth your parents are more competent than you, otherwise they would not still work at Earth Command. Shut your trap, do your duty and do not give me cause to put you in my brig. Your parents would be . . . shocked.”
Aarhant nodded. There was nothing he could say.
The admiral’s image disappeared from his screen.
♦ ♦ ♦
Jacob entered his father’s conference room on the Midway, called there by a signal from his XO. He wore his Service Dress Blues uniform and had done his best to present a professional appearance since his arrival on Daisy’s LCA. She had stayed behind on the Lepanto, as his designated Bridge commander. As a result, Richard had ordered one of his Marine pilots to fly her Landing Craft Assault across the cold blackness of space that lay twenty-five AU beyond the system’s seventh planet. Hours earlier his battle group had joined up with his father’s battle group. So far, no wasps had shown up. But it was a gamble for him to be here rather than on the Battlestar. Every ship was at Alert Combat Ready status, which was why he wore his transparent vacsuit over his uniform, with helmet pushed back. His father wore his own vacsuit. The man turned away from the open fridge in the Food Alcove and brought over glasses and a pitcher of iced tea.
“You still drink ice tea, don’t you?”
“I do.” He sat in a wood chair on one side of the large conference table.
His father put down two glasses, poured tea into Jacob’s glass and his own, then set the pitcher on the table. He sat down a few chairs from Jacob. The man pulled out his personal tablet and put it on the table. Jacob did the same, pulling his tablet from a pocket of his vacsuit. The man who had dominated him before and after the death of his mother fixed dark brown eyes on him.
“You still hate me, don’t you?”
Was this another passive aggressive move by his father? The man’s face held lines in it that had not been there before. While just 55 years old, his father had gray streaks in his black hair. But his thick hands did not shake like Jacob’s had done after first taking command. He decided to go with his gut.
“Not as much as before. Losing people in battle changed me. I don’t like having ghosts looking over my shoulder.”
Empathy, that strange emotion he had rarely seen from his father, except during his mother’s funeral, now shown forth. “Sending people out to die on your orders does that. I hated it before Callisto. I hated it afterward. It’s one reason I took Reserve Active retirement when I did. How are you handling it?”
“Adequately,” Jacob said, feeling ill at ease with such personal sharing. His father had rarely shown any concern for his feelings. It had always been “Do it this way!” or “Stand up straight!” or “Don’t you realize what it means to be in the Star Navy?” Well, Jacob did now. “Do the ghosts ever go away?”
His father sighed deeply, looked down at the glass of brown ice tea he held in both hands, then looked up. Jacob saw a look he could not remember ever seeing before. It wasn’t empathy. Was it caring?
“No, they don’t.” His father’s new look grew deeper. “You did me proud, son. While I hoped you would find a good career in the Star Navy, the way I did, I never thought you would do the necessary thing at such a terrible time.” The muscles in his father’s face relaxed. “Taking command of the Lepanto and then of the battle group was vital. You saved the lives of more than a thousand folks on those ships. And frankly, I don’t give a damn that you jumped from being a butterbar ensign to acting captain. You did what was needed. I’ve told that to my people. My XO really does like your variations on standard battle formations.”
Shock washed through Jacob. This was the most sustained moment of praise he had ever heard from his father. The man who couldn’t bring himself to be a Dad like other fathers now told him the actions he’d taken were right, needed and good. It left him breathless. He took a deep breath.
“Thank you. That means a lot. I had a lot of help from my friends and from Lieutenant Branstead. She rallied the deck chiefs to my support.”
“So I noticed,” his father said, mood changing from sincerity to something strange, something that looked . . . playful? “I hear you and your XO have a romance going. Do you love her?”
Crap. Crap and crap again. Briefly he wished he could escape out the slidedoor. But that wasn’t how a captain of the Star Navy behaved when speaking with his commanding admiral. “I do. She’s smart, tough, a great pilot and she keeps the decks humming in ways I could never manage. She deserves to be a full commander. But she didn’t like the promotion to lieutenant.”
His father half-smiled. “Good people never do think they deserve a promotion. You did right to grant promotions to your ‘friends’ after their efforts during the space battles. You did right to promote Branstead. I’ve seen her file. She’s more than a genius. She knows how to lead. Leading is a job I’ve always had to work at. Her file says she does it naturally. Have you noticed?”
Jacob almost choked on the sip of ice tea he had taken. He swallowed, damned and determined to not let this special moment disappear. “Yeah, I noticed. Wish I could be like her.”
His father’s expression moved from amiable to . . . to caring. “Build on what you’ve got with this Daisy. I loved your Mom. I never knew what she meant to me until I lost her. It’s another reason I retired early. Don’t hold back from your gal. Show her how you feel. Talk about your feelings.” The man blinked. “I was never any good at feelings talk. But we were both very very happy the day you were born.” His father fixed on him, looking earnest. “I hope you two can have the joy I had with your Mom. Sarah loved me and I did my best to love her back. I did it poorly. Try to do better than I did.”
Jacob realized his father was confiding in him. It was something that had never happened before, not during his Mom’s funeral and not afterward. Why was he acting this way? Was it late in life regrets?
“I’ll do my best to show Daisy how much I love her.” He licked his lips. This was getting too deep. He felt like a sailor cast afloat on an ocean with no sign of land in view. “Uh, admiral, one thing I didn’t mention in the neutrino report has to do with my ship’s antimatter cannon.”
Concern filled his father’s face. “It’s working, isn’t it?”
“Very well,” Jacob said. “You saw the vids of how we took out several wasp ships with it. But I’ve modified its antimatter storage reservoir. We had time while hooked up for repairs at Sullivan’s station. Daisy worked with my Weapons Deck chief and engineers from Engines Deck to enlarge it. Our reservoir can now hold enough antimatter for eight shots, one after the other, before having to make more AM using the ship’s particle accelerator. I figured more shots might come in handy during future battles.”
The man who had dominated him all his life now moved smoothly from caring father to his admiral of the Star Navy persona. “Well done. I like forward thinking like that. Send the specs over to my XO. She’ll get them to our Weapons Chief. Though I suspect it requires an orbital shipyard to do the work?”
“That, or the heavy machinery that O’Sullivan’s station has. His Hangar Two people did outstanding work in repairing the battle damage on four of my ships. Including the Lepanto.”
“Good. Tell me about those repairs. And how many ships did it require for combined laser fire to breach the hulls of the wasp ships? I saw that such fire did kill several of them.”
Jacob did just as his father asked. Inside, he felt relief at the shift from personal to professional. But he realized these moments were something he should share with Daisy. It was normal for a loving couple to share deep stuff. It was a lesson he realized his father had understood, even as he himself did poorly in such sharing with Jacob’s mother. Well, he was determined not to make that mistake with Daisy!
<
br /> ♦ ♦ ♦
Hunter One looked away from the perception imager’s view of the alternate dimension through which his flying nest now traveled. Grayness did not interest any of his five eyes. Better to consider the positive future that lay ahead. It was less than a light and rest cycle before they would arrive at the sky light system that held the future colony of the third world. The imagery of that world and the sensor tool records of it had been vital to his presentation to the colonists on the tenth colony world of Warmth. The Servants, Fighters and Workers who tended to the hundreds of larvae Pods had been affected by the news of two more nests lost to the deranged Soft Skins. The pheromone scents he had sensed from the gathered Swarmers had guided him in later adjustments to his argument during the long flight home to Nest. His arrival there had been preceded by the transmitted news of a new colony world discovered. Only after transmitting that news had he added cautionary pheromones about the terrible Soft Skins who had threatened Warmth and now controlled the sky light which sheltered the future colony world.
But the leaders of his Hunter caste had not been fooled. They understood his loss of eight nests to combat with the Soft Skins was serious. It had required the intervention of his Matron, and her reminder that all Swarmer ships had deposited their larvae Pods before fighting the Soft Skins, to prevent his loss of leadership over his damaged Colony nest. The Hunters Prime had considered his arguments, his records of the new colony world, and the battle imagery of his several attacks on the Soft Skins. They had chosen to do what had never before happened. They assigned a Hunter Prime to lead the return flight to the new sky light. The Prime was a generation older than One. Some of his genes were part of One’s nature. His caste’s leaders had chosen another senior Hunter to lead a third of the nests now flying through cold gray space. The force they led included three large Colony nests, each with the Pull Down weapon ability. Each Colony nest led eleven other Swarmer nests. The return flight amounted to six six-groups of ships, or 36 flying nests. Surely such a force could overcome the eight Soft Skin nests that had survived earlier battles.
“Alert,” scent cast the Speaker To All Servant. “Incoming pheromones from the Hunter Prime. His image and scent are now with us.”
One fluttered his wings, rising from his bench. He bent his two antennae forward and stiffened his stinger. Presenting an image of a Swarmer ready to assault an enemy was traditional for his caste. Being that way before one of the six leaders of his caste was vital if he expected his counsel to be inhaled.
“How flies your Colony nest?” asked the ultraviolet-glowing image of the Hunter Prime on the largest perception imager that filled the Flight Chamber wall before him.
He inhaled deep the rich aggregation pheromones that only a Hunter could emit. Those pheromones commanded obedience from all Swarmers. When scented by another Hunter, they strengthened his own scent talk.
“We fly well, Hunter Prime of all our nests,” he said in a mix of signal, food, territorial and trail pheromones. He made sure there was no hint of any alarm pheromone. “The hard shell repairs to this nest were of the first order. All our weapons rings are eager to strike the insolent Soft Skins who block our way to the new colony world.”
His leader’s five black eyes stared at him even as the leader’s spiracles inhaled One’s pheromones. No doubt he tasted them for signs of disloyalty or personal ambition. There was no sign of either in his scent sharing. One had long ago learned how to exactly control his scent emissions. It was a basic lesson learned by all Hunters at an early age. Which meant the leader must rely on One’s actions and how One’s body appeared in his own perception imager. At least they were no longer in the same chamber, as they had been for too many light cycles while his nest was being repaired at the orbital flightyard that flew above Nest.
“You state what was known before we left Nest. How do you fly now!”
One almost stopped breathing at the sharpness of the command scent emitted by his leader. But such could be seen by any Swarmer and he was determined to show no sign of fear. “My Servants, Fighters, Workers and their leaders are eager to scent the air of the new colony world. My Matron looks forward to leading the deposit of our larvae upon that world. Every Swarmer on this nest will fight, bite and kill any opponent who blocks our way to the third world!”
Hunter Prime’s two black antennae lifted up in a gesture One knew signaled satisfaction. “My Flight Servant computes that the colony world still flies just ahead of the fourth world and its attendant Soft Skin nests. My Fighter Leader suggests we attack and destroy the Soft Skins on our way to the third world. How certain are you that the Soft Skins will still hover above their world?”
Hunter One had long wondered that exact thought. He scent cast what he hoped was true. “Hunter Prime, the Soft Skins prefer the inner worlds of any sky light. They flew inward to our colony of Warmth. And when we arrived at the other sky light, their nests were clustered between the Soft Skin world and its moon. They sought to defend that world from our attack. Despite their deadly nests, one of my Support Hunters managed to strike that world with particle disruption seeds and lightning bolt globes,” he said in a rush of trail, territorial, sex and food pheromones, followed by a strong scent of aggregation pheromones. “All behaviors of the Soft Skins say they will be clustered near the fourth world upon our arrival. We should be able to englobe them in passing and—”
“Enough!” scent cast his leader in a rush of command pheromones. “You and the other senior Hunter will follow my choices in how we attack these Soft Skins! The Support Hunters of every nest will follow and bite as I command.” The flow of command, signal and dominance pheromones that arrived over his chamber’s signaler was almost suffocating. His awareness that his leader’s pheromones even now filled every chamber of his flying nest was a source of dismay. Each nest must be filled with the scent of the Hunter in charge of that nest. But he could no more defy the command scent than he could stop breathing.
“I obey,” he scent cast in a flow of strong aggregation pheromones. “All on this Colony nest will obey your commands. Do you wish a change in our arrival formation?”
“Not needed,” Hunter Prime said, his large, purple-glowing wings whipping quickly as they lifted his perfect body above his bench. The Servants in his Flight Chamber seemed dull by comparison. “We left our home sky light in the traditional formation of a cloud of flying nests and we will arrive in such a formation. From time long past every Swarmer in every cohort has arrived at a new colony site as part of a tight cluster of themselves and others. Such a formation has never failed us in the past. The future will bend to our Swarm!”
One inhaled the rich tapestry of pheromones that made up the speech of Hunter Prime. It was a mix of scents he had rarely tasted. Each caste of Swarmers knew best the scents of their caste. The leaders of each caste, however, carried with them pheromones unique to their place in Swarmer lives. Six Hunter Primes ruled his home world of Nest. One of those six now led the colonizing flight to the new world first scented by Hunter One. He had no doubt the Swarm would prevail. He had no doubt his many nests would deposit larvae Pods on the fourth world. He had no doubt at all. When exposed to the pheromones of a Prime, it was impossible to doubt.
As the image of Hunter Prime vanished and the rich scent of his leader disappeared, Hunter One felt that loss. No doubt his Servants and the Matron felt the same way. That was normal whenever any Prime scent cast to any Swarmer. Now, it was his duty to remind his fellow Swarmers of their duties.
“Stinger Servant, review the preparedness of our rings of stingers! Flight Servant, tap in the exact flight track for our Colony nest to take as we fly down to the new sky light. Servant for propulsive devices,” he scent cast to the older male who commanded the devices that moved them through cold dark space. “Prepare your devices for rapid flight! Let us descend on the Soft Skins in the way Swarmers of our past descended upon thieves and aberrant Swarmers!”
His own command pheromones flowed o
ut, filling his Flight Chamber and being sent to every chamber of his nest by way of signalers. His new Servant for sending such scents to every chamber in his nest was already busy at his panel, making sure Hunter One’s words were scented by every Swarmer. He added some scent of trail, territorial and sex to his command flow as a reminder of the future reward for those Swarmers who best performed their duties. Caste to caste, cohort to cohort within each caste, so had the lives of all Swarmers been conducted from before clay records were kept. New devices kept records now, just as new devices allowed his people to fly to other sky lights. So now would new devices allow him and the other flying nests to decimate the Soft Skins blocking their way to the new colony world. Of that, his pheromones promised a certainty.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“Finalize battle formation!” came the command from his father, whose image was one of twenty that ran across the top of the front wallscreen.
Jacob looked to Rosemary at Tactical. She was the one who aimed their weapons at any enemy. She was also the person he relied on to monitor the positions of every other ship of the line. Daisy supplemented Rosemary with her own monitoring of her neutrino sensor holo, a copy of which floated to his left.
“Tactical, report!”
“Sir! The Midway is presently holding station at 8,000 kilometers to our right. Like the Lepanto, her nose is aimed directly at the computed wasp arrival point.” The Irish woman pointed to the central image on the wallscreen, which showed a copy of Jacob’s, Rosemary’s and Daisy’s neutrino graphic. “As ordered by Fleet Admiral Renselaer, our two cruisers and his three cruisers occupy the middle of our Alpha Iron Bar formation. They are the Chesapeake, Hampton Roads, Okinawa, Mobile Bay and Manila Bay. Between the cruisers and the Battlestars are the destroyers. The Tsushima Strait, Salamis and Philippine Sea lie between us and our cruisers. The admiral’s destroyers lie between his cruisers and his battlestar. His destroyers are the Red Sea, Lake Erie, Monitor, Leyte Gulf and Inchon. Our three frigates St. Mihiel, Ofira and Aldertag are behind us while the admiral’s frigates Schweinfurt, Kursk and Malacca Strait are in place behind his Battlestar.”
Battlegroup (StarFight Series Book 2) Page 17
