by Chris Hechtl
“Great. So, they jumped out for parts unknown? That's all we need,” Admiral Lewis said with a shake of his head.
“I'm not following,” Levare said, wrinkling his nose.
“Pirates! This Don Quixote Kar'nage fellow! He obviously holds a grudge against Lagroose Industries … damn it …,” Admiral Lewis said with a shake of his head.
Levare caught on and then nodded slowly. “One thing at a time, Admiral.”
“Other than that, how was the rest of your visit?” Admiral Lewis asked, changing the subject.
“In other words, you want a hands-on report on Radick's construction progress?” Levare asked. The admiral nodded. “Well, they aren't playing footsies as much as I'd feared. No accounting games that I saw. We'd need an A.I. to be sure though.”
“Minor peccadilloes I can live with if they get the ships out on time and functioning as they should,” the admiral stated.
“Minor peccadilloes as you call them add up to big bucks over time, Admiral,” Levare warned. “Given enough time to skim credit off it could add up to an entire ship,” he stated.
The admiral grimaced but nodded, acknowledging the point.
“They weren't happy that the destroyer contract went to Lagroose Industries. They'd thought they'd had the inside track with the first carrier conversion. Unfortunately, it was late on the launch and buggy as you know.
“Yes, yes, I do,” Admiral Lewis said with a grimace. To say that Argus had teething issues was like saying a kid with a dozen cavities, crocked teeth, and a two-centimeter overbite was just fine. Argus had been in and out of drydock five times since she'd launched and was several million credits over budget. The delays had allowed the second-generation fighters and bombers to get into production, however; they had enough for the carrier wing with a few spares.
On the other hand, Lagroose Industries' first destroyer was still having issues with the construction, and the schedule had slipped once due to a late-arriving shipment. But they'd made up lost ground and the shipwrights were confident they had ironed out most of the production bugs. They were even a week ahead of schedule due to the volunteer effort Yorrick Lagroose was leading.
They'd just have to wait and see if Constitution did pan out in the end, he thought.
“The first ship in a class always takes the longest. Now that we've got an idea on the bugs, we'll stamp them out on follow-on units,” Levare said, echoing his thoughts.
“And when will that be?” the admiral asked instead of making a joke about mind reading.
“We projected this class at a squadron of eight ships. We've laid down the keels for all eight in two of the Lagroose yards. The ship's class shares a lot of parts in common with the cruisers and corvettes designs. Radick Industries got the corvettes as you know. Getting the yards to cooperate is an exercise all in itself,” Levare said with a shake of his head.
“I can imagine,” Admiral Lewis drawled.
Chapter 23
Hyperbridge Network, Passing the Star CMA OB2
The captain strode through the ship, well aware of the fearful looks from his crew. He couldn't help it; none of them could. Engineering and life support swore the air was clear, but he could smell the stink of fear in the air. It permeated everything.
He was also aware that it wasn't just coming from his crew.
Speedwell was running scared and for her life. It didn't help that they were low on fuel and were having trouble jumping in and out of the bridge network. Each transition sucked up a lot of energy from the ship, far more than the captain liked. They were pushing the ship, pushing her hard. He wasn't certain if the aliens were still hard on their virtual heels. He wasn't about to stick around to find out.
“And you say you can't squeeze any more speed out of her? None at all?” Captain Holt demanded when he caught up to the chief in the wardroom.
“No, sir. That we've gotten this far this fast is a godsend,” the chief engineer replied with a shake of his head. He poured himself a cup of coffee and then offered the carafe to the captain. The captain held up two fingers. The engineer took down the captain's mug and then poured him a cup and then stirred in two carefully measured spoonfuls of sugar. Fuel and patience weren't the only things in short supply on board he knew.
When he was finished, he offered the cup up to the skipper before he took his seat at the table with the other ship's officers. “We're low on fuel. Every time we burn fuel in subspace moving between bridges, we are eating that up. We barely have enough to get home as it is.”
“If we push the speed, we will risk running out of fuel totally, sir,” Rollins the navigator stated, backing the chief engineer up. “I don't like how we're dipping into our reserves as it is. We are just barely going to have enough fuel to get out of this bridge and to Sol.”
The captain took a sip of coffee and then set the mug down carefully with a tap on the coaster in front of him. “Very well.”
“I'd like to tweak the ship's systems a bit more, honest, Skipper,” the chief engineer said.
“I know. Do what you can to save power, Jim,” the captain ordered.
“We've shut down a lot of systems already. Making additional sacrifices is asking a lot of the crew,” the XO warned. “And we can't all go around in sweaters.”
“I know. Some of you didn't pack any,” the chief engineer replied, fighting to keep from rolling his eyes in despair. All he'd wanted was to bump the temperature down five degrees. The XO had pitched a snit over just going down one.
“If we're on course, and I believe we are,” Rollins said, adding the last few words in haste when a few around the table gave off a muted protest, “we should be passing CMA OB2 within a day or two. That's the third to last waypoint on the way home. We will be about twenty days out.”
“Good to know,” the captain murmured as he took another sip of coffee. “Good coffee, Chief,” he said.
“I didn't make it; the XO did,” the chief admitted. The one thing he did like about the XO was that he made a good strong cup of joe.
“Thanks,” the XO said, preening a little.
“I've got a radiator tear down. Number eight, we keep getting clogs in the line and the fittings,” the engineer reported. “We've also got some plastic tubes that have been crimped pretty badly with the twists and turns. I'm sorting those out on a case-by-case basis. I'd like to replace them with Teflon, but I'm afraid I don't have the spares,” he said with a shake of his head. “And the water they sent us on Antigua wasn't properly processed by the way. It definitely wasn't reverse osmosis filtered or anything like that. We've got a lot of mineral buildup in some of the water systems.”
“Enough to cause a problem?” the captain asked.
“No, not at this time. Long term maybe. I'm doing what I can to flush it out. That is the reason you had that mineral taste in the water and the odd smell in the head,” the engineer explained.
“Ah,” the captain replied.
“I couldn't run it through our own filtration system without using additional power so I rigged a membrane filter. It is using up a little more energy for the pumps to push the water through them but far less than breaking the water down into hydrogen and oxygen would.”
“Okay. How long do you need the filter in place?” the captain asked.
“I'd say one more pass through the system should do it. Once I get done with the radiator rebuild we'll reroute the water and tear out the filter,” the engineer replied.
“Pity we can't take some of the excess water and break it down for fuel,” the XO muttered.
“A drop in the bucket,” the engineer replied with a shake of his head. “And besides, we'd have issues with the systems since the ship can use hydrogen, but it's not nearly as efficient or clean as deuterium and trinium is,” he explained.
“Ah. Well, there is that,” the XO said.
“Okay, moving on,” the captain said firmly. He knew that tensions were high due to their situation and that the XO and chief engineer didn't exa
ctly get along. He was looking forward to the end of their trip.
~~*^*~~
The Beta bull fumed as he paced his ship. Twice they had gotten lost on the bridge network. He had been forced to exit the network and then double back in subspace. He was not happy about having to pay extra to use the hyperbridge network nor the mistakes made. The navigator had been severely punished after the second mistake, left in the small punishment compartment for eight days without contact and with only water. When he'd come out, he'd been a wreck.
He hadn't lived for much longer after that.
His replacement navigator had learned the lesson and hadn't made the same mistakes. Each time they ended a leg of their journey, the navigator had gone over the records carefully, both those they'd captured from the enemy ship as well as their own. Their data was eight by a power of four years out of date.
The time spent on going over the captured navigational database told them there were fewer colonies in the area they were traveling towards. But one place was of importance. Twice they'd thought they'd caught up with their fleeing prey only for the ship's trail to disappear into hyperspace and another hyperbridge.
For many eight of ship days, the Beta bull regretted not stripping the other task force of ships to bring along with him. Should he have left only a cruiser behind? Or the battleship? Had the Echo bull sent word to the alpha? What did he say? What was the Alpha bull going to do?
That last haunted him more than the others did. He knew he had a head start. He also knew he had acted impulsively. But once they'd started on the journey, there had been no turning back. He intended to follow it through. His head most likely rested on the results. If he didn't achieve a victory, he would lose it.
It bothered him and he knew it bothered many in the ship's herd that their ships were low on fuel and provisions. Each time they stopped, they resupplied from the support vessels but even their stocks were running perilously low. They would have to resupply in the field once they got to their intended destination. They would not have enough fuel or provisions to make the return journey.
Even if he had to scavenge from the ashes of whatever world the fleeing ship led them to, he'd do it he vowed. He checked the clock. In three eight of days they would be out of the hyperbridge once and for all.
Chapter 24
Sol
October 1, 2235
“They are … well, not quite panicking; I think we could deal with that. Headless chickens we could deal without but this … skepticism …,” Admiral Lewis said as he shook his head. Their best and most prolific supporters were the people who were taking the threat very seriously. But a few were … flighty, he thought.
“We have met the enemy and he is us,” Roman said as he undid his collar.
“In other words, we are our own worst enemy? Heh, I get it. Been there, heard it before. It doesn't change what we're up against; it just makes it harder.”
“I know,” Roman said. “We need more proof. They do have a point about that. We need intelligence. Reconnaissance,” the general stated.
Admiral Lewis looked at him for a long moment and then slowly nodded. “So, what's the plan?”
“I think we need to skim a ship off—a starship of course. Outfit it as a scout, and send it into Rho. Preferably more than one,” Roman said, rubbing his chin.
“We'd need infrastructure. A means to get messages back to us so we don't miss that information if the primary scout is lost. A way for them to check in, dump what they know, resupply locally, and then scout the next objective,” Admiral Lewis pointed out.
“Point. Magellan is still here. Captain Cooley hasn't been shy about hitting the talk circuit nor his crew. I'm thinking we contact the company and the crew. Lease them to scout Rho. We'll give them a couple of our own people as crew. Good people, green ones, but ones who can learn and more importantly teach when they get back,” Roman said. He left off the big if. “That will make the politicians happy to get them out of their hair too,” he added after a moment of thought.
Admiral Lewis's eyes brightened at the idea. “Now you are talking.” he nodded. “And we can tap a couple freighters for resupply. Radick has those sleds; I bet if we dumped a dozen or so in Rho, they could scout and act as couriers,” he offered. “The Spaceducks,” he said with a grin. He had ideas on those platforms. They'd make good picket ships too if someone figured out how to mount some guns on them. With the modular design, they could come up with their own dedicated platform in time too.
Roman shook his head. “Look at the specs on those ships. Unfortunately, all of the Radick ships are pretty much useless for this; they don't have the legs to go the distance,” he said.
Admiral Lewis pulled up the information, stared at it, then sucked in a breath and let it out in a heave. “Damn.”
“I know. Which means we need Lagroose ships. They have the legs. They also know where this sector is. The hyperbridges to it, plus where all of the occupied or scouted star systems are located at.”
“Understood.”
There was a long pause. Finally, Roman shook himself. “I'd really like to know what Jack is up to right now,” Roman said.
“I'd pay good money for that. Even though I'm broke,” the admiral said ruefully. “But I'd give an important piece of my anatomy to have him here with us now. He'd shake the nut jobs loose and kick ass. He'd definitely get Wendy off her ass. Did you see what Yorrick is doing?”
Yorrick Lagroose's quiet volunteer work had been noted by the media. Some had thought it was a publicity stunt until they had found out he'd been doing it for months without drawing attention to himself. Consternation had warred with grudging approval.
Overnight it had sparked additional patriotism and volunteers stepping forward. Many were looking for a future job, but others genuinely wanted to help.
“Heh, yeah. It took him a long time, but the boy finally grew up and out of his sister's domineering shadow. All I can say is it is about time,” Roman said with a shake of his head.
“Agreed. Now we just need to sell it to the civilians.”
“That's even harder. They are going to see it as us poking the bear. Fortunately, if we do it, it'll be with a damn long stick,” Roman said.
“Point. I'd like to know what is going on in Rho at the least,” Admiral Lewis said. “I hate not knowing.”
“Agreed.”
~~*^*~~
It took a bit of finessing for Admiral Lewis to sell the idea to the president. The president was being held over the fire by Senator Camp; he didn't like the poll numbers and needed to appear strong on defense. The president reluctantly agreed to the plan contingent on the civilian crew volunteering. “I can make that happen,” Admiral Lewis replied, slightly taken aback by the easy sell.
~~*^*~~
The following morning a majority of Magellan's crew had volunteered to go despite the risks involved. Without work for their ships and with the planets they'd scouted and terraformed on the line, LGM agreed to the mission. They even sweetened the pot by stepping up with a sizable bonus for the crew upon completion of their mission. An LGM legal A.I. stepped in to finalize the paperwork while the ship was moved to the small but growing naval yard for resupply and refit.
Captain Cooley had agreed to go despite his misgivings on his ship's survival. But he had to know if he'd led the aliens to Pyrax. The idea that he had, that those people were helpless to an alien invasion, haunted him.
To fill in the blanks in the crew, they took on military crew members. The refit was minor; all of the terraforming equipment was removed to make room for additional stores, care packages, and a large stock of surveillance satellites and buoys. Their plan was to scout and if possible warn the colonies in the sector and to deploy a warning buoy where they could. A follow-on supply collier was under refit when Magellan finished taking on her new crew, stores, and fuel. The ship headed out for deep space within two days of the president's agreement to the plan.
~~*^*~~
A day b
efore Magellan was expected to jump away, a group of politicians concerned that Magellan might lead the aliens back to Earth pitched a fit in the media. They even tried to have a judge issue an emergency stay for the ship to remain in Sol until the matter could be resolved.
The federal judge listened to the senator but then reluctantly pointed out that she had no jurisdiction of a navy ship in deep space. Senator Calhoun was embittered when Magellan jumped a few hours later.
“A bit late, isn't it? Besides, all the enemy has to do is capture one of the ships already there or a colony and get into an astronomy file or navigational database,” Senator Camp pointed out scathingly. “That ship, like Magellan, has sailed.”
Senator Calhoun sputtered as her colleagues reeled back in shock and dismay. “But …”
“We're going to get the information and confirmation you requested,” Admiral Lewis said pointedly. “We need to know. Also, we need to get a ship in there to warn others to have them avoid the areas that the aliens are at to prevent them from capturing a ship if they haven't already,” Admiral Lewis stated.
Of course, it wasn't that simple the admiral found out later that day. Politicians led by Senator Calhoun tried to kill the scouting mission by holding up funds for the support vessels as well as for the second and third follow-on scouts that were planned. The navy had just enough funds to get the mission going.
When Senator Calhoun realized she was thwarted on that front, she introduced a series of bills to withdraw from the sector. "Let them have it! It's not worth it! There are plenty of systems!" she said to the media in front of a crowd of supporters at her press conference.
"And is that what we do? Keep falling back? Ignore the expense of terraforming the planet, the people there, the investment they made in making new homes?" a reporter asked.
"Yes!"
"And then what? We build, they come in, kick us out, we go elsewhere, and again and again? What if they come here? You expect us to pick up and move then, Senator?” the reporter asked.
