The Last War

by Clark Graham

  Moore clicked some more buttons. “Rescue 7 has picked up the Drottning pilots. He is standing by for more orders. Seven pilots are dead, three wounded. Chaple is safe, reports the loss of one pilot and a roc’fi.” He paused a minute. “Sir, Commander Finch is dead.”

  Chapter 40

  Star Base Asclepius

  Keldar Sector

  Merken sat in the quarters thinking of how badly he had messed up. It was only a matter of time until he lost his command again. It had been two months since the battle. He let lots of pirates loose. He led his squadron into a trap. All of his ships but one were damaged, and the Legister was to be scrapped, far too shot up to repair. His beloved Ederic was undergoing repairs, again. He hated the thought of meeting with his father. The Finch family had a lot of influence in the galaxy. He’d sent one of theirs to his death.

  His door chimed. “Come.”

  Moore, stepped through. “Sir, there are three frigates approaching. One of them is the Ederic.”

  “Thank you, Moore.” Merken stood up. “It’ll be nice to get back to my old quarters.”

  “New quarters, Sir.”

  “Right, new quarters.” He smiled. “Let’s go get on her.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  The first available shuttle jetted over to the frigate. Merken stroked the wall when he entered. “I missed you, old girl.” He walked into his quarters with Moore in tow.

  Moore stiffened and saluted as soon as the door opened.

  “What?” Merken asked. He noticed, sitting at the table, Emor and Admiral Merken. He too saluted the two.

  “At ease.” The admiral stood up. “Son, how are you doing?” He walked over and hugged him.

  “Good.”

  Emor stood up and shook his hand. “Well done, young man. You’ve been very busy, while the rest of us sit and watch. I’ve read all of the battle reports.”

  Battle reports? I’ve never filed a battle report. He looked over at Moore. Oh, of course, battle reports. I wonder what they say?

  He scanned the room. “My quarters are bigger than I remembered.”

  The admiral smiled. “A commodore requires larger quarters than a captain.”

  Merken’s heart sank. “Are we getting a commodore here to take over?”

  “Yes, right now, in fact.” Emor stepped forward and pinned commodore bars on Merken’s shoulders, then shook his hand. “Congratulations.”

  What? “Um, thank you, Sir?”

  His father saluted him. “Its good news mixed with bad. I’m taking your destroyers away. I need them elsewhere. I’m giving you two more frigates. I’ve got my fleet refurbishing at Andaria Major. When I’m ready, I’ll stop and destroy that pirate space dock on the way through. It’s no match for a battleship. Also, I’m taking five roc’fis from you and sending them to another base. You’ve done a great job here. Keep up the good work.”

  Both Emor and the admiral walked out. Merken faced Moore, “Tell me more about these battle reports.”

  It was rare to see Moore smile. “You would love them. It tells how you led the pirates into several traps and managed to destroy their fleet and send the rest racing back into Null Space. All the news media has picked them up. You’re the best thing since Andronian wine.”

  Merken laughed. “I thought they would see right through that.”

  “Everyone is tired of bad news. They needed a hero. You fit the bill. They only believe what they want to, anyway.”

  “I see.” He patted Moore on the shoulder. “I’m glad to have you back.”

  Merken allowed himself leave for the first time since the war began. The enemy space dock was destroyed and the sensor array station wasn’t detecting any pirate activity. It was a spring day on Andaria Major. He sipped his drink on a sidewalk café.

  He spied the young girl from a distance. Her red hair swaying back and forth as she tended to roses planted in boxes. He looked up as a woman sat down at his table.

  “Hello, Captian.” She wiped her brow.

  Commodore, He didn’t correct her error. “Hello, Thina.”

  “I see in the news, you’ve been a busy man. Congratulations on your victories.”

  In his mind's eye, the funeral of Finch was still fresh. Emor had awarded him the Navy Cross, posthumously. His coffin was bathed in flags and glory. If he’d died running, the result would be the same. He’d still be dead. The worst part was when the family took Merken aside and thanked him for making his son a war hero. The only thing I did was get him killed. He shuddered silently.

  “I will relay your message to all those who fought alongside me.” Those still alive.

  She turned her attention to Leona. “She’s so happy. I can’t get her inside except for meals, and not even all of those. She loves the sun, and spends her days outside, except when it’s raining.”

  “So, the rehab is working?”

  “Worked. She has no desire to go back.” Thina made eye contact. “She loves you, you know. She clipped a picture of you from one of the newspaper articles and keeps it close to her heart.”

  Merken sipped his drink. “She is beautiful.”

  Just then the girl looked up. Her eyes widened when she spotted Merken. “Comadore!” Running up the street she threw her arms around him.

  Siege of Starbase Eos

  Chapter 41

  The Drottning fighters streaked across empty space, their slender green shapes lost amongst the myriad of stars. The cockpit sat near the back, just forward of the tail. Their two short wings sat near the back also and extended down from the fuselage at thirty-degree angles. These were not new fighters, but twenty-year-old ones. Even though tens of thousands of the Drottning had been built, only a few were left in active service. Most were in storage as more modern fighters replaced them in the squadrons.

  “Zebra One, this is Zebra Five. My ship is overheating,” came Ensign Jacob Eisler’s voice over the radio. The wing commander was immediately irritated. They were nearing hostile territory and Lieutenant Phay wanted radio silence. Eisler was a troublemaker in his book, always finding things to irritate him and not very good at obeying orders.

  “Maintain speed and course,” the lieutenant responded back.

  “Sir, I’ll never make it. The engine will seize before I reach the starbase. One of my hoses has blown off.”

  The Lieutenant gritted his teeth. “Get as far as you can. We will send a tug back for you.”

  “Permission to reduce speed sir. It will do no good to have a seized-up engine when I get there. Replacing a hose would be easier. They don’t have any spare engines.”

  “Permission denied.”

  “Zebra One, my engine is losing power, reducing speed.”

  The lieutenant turned off his microphone, cursed several times, and then banged his fist on the control panel. It was supposed to be an easy assignment. Get the five Rocfi to Starbase Eos and then take a transport back. Ensign Eisler was making it hard. He had asked Commodore Merken’s permission to leave Eisler behind and take a junior pilot, but the commodore wanted the more experienced men there and one of those was Eisler.

  He switched back on his mike when he calmed down. “Zebra Three, slow down to match Zebra Five’s speed. The rest maintain course. Radio silence from here on out. We are nearing enemy space.”

  “Copy sir, slowing down to match Zebra Five.”

  The Lieutenant wondered why he didn’t leave Eisler to fend for himself like he wanted to do. The only thing that stopped Phay, was knowing that if anything happened to the ensign, he would bear the blame. He knew that the ensign had defied a direct order, but the problem was proving the engine didn’t lose power was nearly impossible. They were headed towards a bare-bones level one space station that would not be interested in taking the time or effort in dismantling the engine to see if it had actually lost power or not.

  Slowly the distance between the ships widened. Lieutenant Phay smiled. I should have let him slow down to begin with. maybe I can deliver the rocfis and get
out of there before he arrives. It was a pleasant thought.

  An hour later the space station came into his view. It was only an orb. A round silver ball floating in space, it had a small bore gun on top and on the bottom. That was all the defense it had. The lieutenant wondered what it was doing next to hostile territory. They only put that type of station in safe zones inside the borders of the Empire or used them as border posts in peaceful areas. It was the wrong thing to have next to a hostile enemy. It was no wonder they needed the rocfis.

  “Zebra One to Starbase Eos. Three fighters on approach.”

  “This is Starbase Eos, Zebra One. We were expecting five fighters.”

  “Roger Eos, Zebra Five has engine troubles. It is being escorted here by Zebra Three.”

  “Copy Zebra One. Opening the hangar deck, approach one at a time.”

  “Roger.” One at a time? This place must be really primitive to not have a multi landing platform. “Zebra Two, follow me in. Zebra Four, you will be behind him.”

  “Roger,” the two others said.

  The hanger doors in the middle of the orb, opened. The light from the deck lit up and the guide beacon came on. The lieutenant throttled his ship back and performed a perfect landing, like usual. He always prided himself on how well he could land his fighter.

  Inside the deck was a beehive of activity. Phay squinted against the lights. The darkness of space made them seem intense. An overhead crane locked on to his ship and lifted it to the side to make room on the landing platform for the next fighter. The process was done again for Zebra Four.

  Two men helped the Lieutenant and the other men out of the planes. Phay took off his helmet and looked around, it was a very small hangar deck, the smallest he had ever seen on a space station. The three ships took up most of the room in there. No other ships were present.

  An ensign came up to him and said, “The base commander wants to speak with you and your men.”

  “Yes, of course,” the lieutenant responded. The men, still in their red and white space suits, followed the ensign to the commander’s office. The starbase wasn’t even built out yet. Partitions that should have divided off rooms and hallways sat on pallets. Furniture was still in crates and boxes. The lieutenant wondered what was going on.

  When they entered the office, a dour old man sat behind a small desk. His insignia indicated that he was a lieutenant commander, although he looked much too old to still be at that rank to Phay.

  “I understand that you are missing two ships. I cannot believe you just abandoned them out there. I want you to go back and get them.” The old gray-haired commander’s expression didn’t change.

  “But sir, they will be here soon.” Phay was shocked by what he had just heard. It wasn’t a commander’s place to tell him what to do. He had his own captain.

  “That is an order.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Phay stomped out of the office. He would go as slow as possible to allow time for that troublemaker to get here. He walked back towards the deck, pretending to get lost two or three times on the way before finally arriving. He took his time getting his helmet back on and getting situated in the cockpit of his plane.

  “Two ships on approach,” the loudspeaker said.

  “Oh, I guess I don’t have to go back out,” the lieutenant said smugly. The same men that had been helping him to get situated, now helped pull him back out of the ship.

  Chapter 42

  Commander Jopsen watched from the space dock observation level as Lieutenant Phay dawdled until the other ships made it to the spaceport. He already had an opinion of the man and it wasn’t good. He had listened to the radio chatter between the roc’fis. The Lieutenant’s refusing to let the man throttle back and then abandoning him was beyond inexcusable.

  The commander would get the man off the station as soon as possible. The fact that he was doing the man a favor irritated him. Everyone on the station could be dead in a matter of a few days.

  Ensign Eisler, on the other hand, impressed Jopsen. The young man had found a way to get around the ridiculous orders of Phay, saving the engine for the space station. Making up his mind, Jopsen decided on Eisler. He needed a squadron commander and Eisler was his man. He had been given permission to take one of the roc’fi pilots to teach his men how to fly the Drottnings. They had all been trained on the shuttles and none of them had even set eyes on a roc’fi before today.

  The commander was not a military man. He was a scientist. He had spent his life exploring the galaxy. He had no desire to work his way up through the ranks and had seen so many men he had commanded go on to bigger and better things. Keep it simple, was his motto. It’s hard enough to take care of yourself. Why do you need more men to take care of? He was cautious in his approach to everything.

  Lieutenant Callis came up to him while he was deep in thought. “Sir, all of the rocket ships have arrived.” It seemed a redundant thing to say, since the commander could clearly see what was happening from where he stood, but he was ordered to report and he did so religiously.

  Jopsen turned to Callis. “I want to see Ensign Eisler in my office. The rest of those hot shots, I want off my station as soon as possible.”

  The Lieutenant saluted. “Yes, Sir.” He then turned to march away, but he was momentarily confused so he turned back. “Begging your pardon, Sir. Do you want me to send the ensign back on a later transport, or just put the other pilots on a transport and wait for him?”

  Jopsen smiled. He knew he had to spell things out better to Callis. He was a black and white type person. It was either this way, or it was that way. There was no middle ground. He made a great scientist, but in his new role as a starbase officer, he was lacking.

  “Ensign Eisler has the good fortune of staying with us. The others can go.”

  “Yes, Sir.” The Lieutenant marched on down the hallway to obey the order.

  Commander Jopsen was back in his office when Eisler knocked on the door.

  “Come in.”

  The Ensign swung the door open to see the older man sitting at the desk. He was a little taken aback. Usually men that age had found a nice soft place to retire. They were not heading up a military operation.

  “You wanted to see me, Sir?” He remembered to salute.

  Jopsen leaned back in his chair,interlocked his fingers across his stomach. “Sit down, please. I can’t stand all of these formalities.”

  “Yes, Sir.” Eisler was surprised by the Commander’s attitude. They were usually very stuffy and curt when they got to that rank. Having someone relaxed was a novelty.

  “You are assigned to me now. I needed someone to familiarize my men with the Drottning and you were the man I chose. They are all a bunch of young officers, most of whom were not even born before the planes were starting to be phased out.”

  Eisler swallowed hard. This was horrible. He had a pretty good life on the starbase Asclepius. He had a girlfriend there.

  “Sir, I don’t have a lot of hours in Drottnings. I just barely qualify to fly them.”

  “Do you have more than zero?”

  “Well, yes, Sir, of course, Sir.”

  “Then you have more than all of my pilots put together. The transfer paperwork has already happened. When the shuttle gets to the starbase, it will collect your personal belongings from your quarters and bring them here.”

  Eisler trembled at the thought of someone going through his stuff. He had a collection of trinkets from several planets that may be illegal to own.

  “But, Sir.” The commander just glared at him so he clammed up. “Yes, Sir.”

  “Good, I’m glad we have that settled. Let me explain the situation we are facing.” He brought up the sector map on the wall screen. “Here we are, a science station studying the area. Here is the enemy in this planetary nebula.”

  “There’s a planet inside there, sir?”

  “No, it’s just called a planetary nebula. It’s really a dying red giant star. There must be a space station in there or somethin
g that supports life. We didn’t know they were there when we towed this station into place. When short-ranged fighters came out of it and strafing us, was our first indication of their existence. They have been very hostile, so we are assuming they want their privacy. Anyway, they’re getting regular transports in there and seem to be building up for a major attack. I think they will try and take the starbase.”

  Eisler watched as Commander Jopsen pointed and explained things. The old man reminded him of a science teacher he once had. The teacher showed extreme patience towards his fidgety and bored students. Jopsen was now patiently explaining the situation, not like a commander but like an instructor. Being here, Eisler wished he had paid more attention to his old science teacher.

  “What types of ships are we up against?”

  “Small short-ranged fighters. I will get you the video of their last attack. Our pop guns don’t seem to even scare them.”

  Eisler hadn’t noticed what type of weaponry the base had on his way into the hanger. He had been too busy monitoring his gauges and trying to get his roc’fi in without the engine freezing. He wondered what caliber the pop gun would be. He watched the commander’s fingers dancing across the screen until he pulled up the file.

  There were about twenty fighters attacking the base. They looked like frying pans with outriggers on both sides. The enemy pilots sat where the bacon and eggs would have been. The back tips of the outriggers seemed to steer the ship. When one side lit up, the craft would turn the other direction. He noticed that the four-centimeter guns on the top of the station didn’t do much against quickly moving targets.

  After he finished with the playback, the commander turned to Eisler. “What do you think?”

  “I think that we are in a lot of trouble, sir. The roc’fi are not going to be very effective against those and the station's guns can’t hit anything moving that fast. We need fighters, not rockets.”