by Sam Schall
This time, every person present save Rocha and Santos braced to attention and waited until Tremayne jerked her head toward the hatch. A few moments later, the hatch slid shut once again. As soon as it had, Tremayne stood and leaned forward, her palms flat on the table top.
“Captain Rocha, you are new to my command, so I will give you this one chance to understand that I appreciate officers who can think outside of the box – as long as doing so doesn’t put our people at risk. However, I also demand my officers set the example for everyone else in the taskforce. If you cannot do so, tell me now. There will be no negative entry on your record and we will see if we can start new when the taskforce returns to Fuercon.”
“Admiral.” The brunette snapped her mouth shut when Tremayne arched a brow at her and gave one shake of her head.
“Colonel Shaw, is your LAC commander experienced enough to take command of not only your LACs but those assigned to the taskforce?”
Ashlyn considered for a moment before responding. “Yes, ma’am. Captain Traylor normally commands close to twice as many LAC pilots and their crews as what we brought with us. If memory serves me correctly, if we combined the Navy LACs with those of the Devil Dogs, the numbers would be approximately what the captain normally commands.”
“Your choice, Captain Rocha.” Tremayne waited, giving the woman time to consider her options.
“My apologies to both you and to Colonel Shaw, Admiral. If you are willing to give me a second chance, I assure you that you won’t regret it.” As she spoke, Rocha snapped to attention.
“Very well, Captain. Welcome aboard.” Tremayne smiled and moved around the table to shake the woman’s hand. “Colonel, please ask the others to rejoin us.”
Ash nodded and moved to the hatch. As she did, Tremayne motioned for Rocha to sit. There was still a great deal to accomplish and even less time in which to do it.
“WELL?” Tremayne asked.
Ashlyn accepted the cold beer the admiral handed her and lifted it in a toast. Then she settled back on the sofa in Tremayne’s day room. As she stretched her legs before her, relaxing for the first time in more than twelve hours, she waited as the redhead sat opposite her. Many would wonder what Tremayne meant by her simple question, but not Ash. She knew exactly what the admiral wanted to know. She simply wasn’t sure how to answer.
“We have a week to get everyone onto the same page.” She lifted one shoulder in a half-shrug. “The Marines are solid. I have no qualms where they are concerned.”
Fortunately for her own peace of mind, the last mission had let her get to know many of the Marines assigned to the taskforce. They had risen to the challenges present when their ships unexpectedly stumbled upon the Callusian’ s attempted invasion of the home system. Each and every one of them had responded and had done everything they could to support the Devil Dogs on the mission. Ash had scored points with them upon their return home when she made sure the Marines assigned to First Fleet had received the same degree of recognition for what they’d done has had her own Devil Dogs.
“I’ve no concern about them, Ash.” Tremayne smiled and leaned forward, helping herself to cheese and crackers from a platter on the low table in front of the sofa. “I’m more concerned about some of the Naval officers. Mixing units from both First and Second Fleets have left me working with a few senior officers I’m not familiar with.”
“I’m not sure I can be of much help there, Miranda.” She sighed and took another sip of her beer. “I’m still catching up after my little vacation.” Bitterness filled her voice at the thought of the two years she’d spent at the Tarsus penal colony after the Arterus mission.
“Ash.” Tremayne leaned forward and reached for her hand. “Those responsible have been caught and will pay for what they did to you and the others. You know that.”
She nodded, her expression grim. The knowledge Admiral Alec Sorkowski (ret.) and others now sat in cells, either awaiting trial or awaiting transport to one of the off-planet penal colonies, helped her get through each day. It would never bring back those who died on that ill-fated mission, but it helped. Even so, she knew she needed to do one thing before Sorkowski and Thomas O’Brien, her former – and very temporary – CO, were moved off-planet. Not that she could discuss it with Tremayne. She knew the redhead well enough to know Tremayne would try to dissuade her. It was best to not mention it to her until afterwards. Not that she could do much about it until this mission was over.
“To answer your question,” she said, refocusing their attention back to Tremayne’s concerns. “I think the officers will shake out. I recommend you have daily briefings and you not let anything slide.” Not that she’d ever known Tremayne to do so. “Consistency and setting the example will go a long way, especially for those like Rocha.”
After the briefing, Ash made sure the Devil Dogs were getting their gear squared away. Then she met with her officers and senior NCOs. There had been more meetings, too many by her book, before she’d finally been able to find her office and get some real work done. Part of that had been checking out Rocha and a few of the others on Tremayne’s senior staff she’d never worked with before. At least she’d seen nothing to be concerned about. Rocha’s evaluations noted she tended to be prickly until getting a feel for those she served with, but she was a solid officer. Ash could handle prickly as long as Rocha got the job done.
“Are you going to get blowback from your order to open up the engines?” she asked, setting her now empty mug on the table to her left.
“A couple of ship commanders have groused, and I gave them the same option I gave the others. None were willing to risk future promotion by asking to be left behind. Once they committed to stay, I told them exactly what I told my senior staff. We will not risk our own ships, but I’m not leaving Liberator out there alone one moment longer than necessary just because I don’t want to take risks.”
Ash nodded, unsurprised by her response. Still, the very fact the ship commands raised the concern and brought them to Tremayne might be an indication of potential problems.
“Before you say anything, I have had a word with those who were present today and who did not deal with the questions and concerns of those captains under their command.”
Ashlyn winced slightly. She recognized Tremayne’s tone and knew those she’d “had a word with” would make sure they never again failed to let their subordinates know the admiral’s orders and the reasons for them. At least they wouldn’t if they wanted to continue in the Navy. Not that she blamed Tremayne one bit.
“Our ETA now?”
“Assuming nothing unforeseen happens, we should reach sensor range of the system in five days.”
And said a quick prayer that nothing delayed them. She had a very bad feeling about what Taskforce Liberator might face between now and then. “Miranda, I know the official orders.” She waited, hoping the woman understand what she was trying to get at. “But I also know FleetCom has given you wide discretion on what we actually do once we reach the system. If I’m not out of place, may I ask your thoughts?”
Tremayne didn’t answer right away. Instead, she stood and moved to the sofa. Ashlyn watched, understanding the redhead needed time to order her thoughts. Tremayne reached for Ash’s mug. She gave the younger woman a smile and then moved across the day room. Ash waited as she refilled their mugs.
“You’re right.” Tremayne handed Ash her beer and then returned to her seat. “I do have a lot more leeway than I told the others. Just as I’m sure you do where your Marines are concerned.”
Ash nodded, confirming what she said.
“If things are as bad for Liberator as I suspect, we are going to evacuate them to safety. Then I’ll make the decision about whether or not we return to try to hold the system.”
Relieved, Ash leaned back. Part of her knew that’s what Tremayne would say but another part, the part that knew how badly FleetCom wanted a victory, worried. Now she realized she’d worried for nothing. Tremayne would always put the
lives of her people first, unless the mission demanded they make a last stand to help save Fuercon and her allies. This one did not.
“You know, I hope, that I’ll back you on whatever you decide.”
“I do.” The redhead smiled at her in affection. “Just as I know you aren’t completely comfortable being my second-in-command.”
Ash shrugged. She certainly couldn’t deny the truth of what Tremayne said. “I am. I’m a Marine. I fight. I lead my people into battle. I’m not a naval officer and I never, ever want to take command of a ship again.” She still broke out in a cold sweat thinking about how she’d done just that on their last mission and how lucky they’d been that she hadn’t gotten them all killed.
Tremayne chuckled and the gleam in her eyes did nothing to reassure Ash. “I promise I have no plans of putting us in a position where you have to take command, especially since you are assigned to this particular ship. You taking command means something would have to happen to me, my flag captain and a few others who would be in line to step into command before we ever worked our way down the chain to you.”
Even though she was right, Ash still narrowed her eyes suspiciously at the woman. “You keep that in mind,” was all she said. Then she yawned, belatedly covering her mouth with one hand. “Sorry. It’s been a long day.”
“For both of us.” Tremayne stood and then leaned down to help Ash to her feet. “I know you’re worried about Lucinda and the others, Ash. I’m won’t tell you not to be. But you aren’t going to be any good to them or to our people if you don’t get some rest.”
“The same goes, Admiral.” Ash arched one brow and waited until Tremayne agreed. “Do you still want to meet for breakfast?”
“I do. We need to set up training schedules.”
Ash pulled her datapad and made a quick note. Then she looked up at Tremayne. There was one question left to ask that night and she hoped the admiral agreed. “Connery is doing a very good job as my aide, especially considering she got thrown into the role without any real warning on the last mission. Do you think your aide would sit down with her while we have breakfast and talk with her? I know Faith has some questions that she isn’t comfortable asking me and, unfortunately, neither MJ nor Loco are here to answer them for her.”
“Of course. I’ll have Jesse contact her tonight and arrange to have breakfast with her.”
“Thanks.” Ash drained her mug and carried it across the day room to the small bar. “Do get some rest tonight.”
“You take your own advice,” Tremayne said and walked with her to the door.
Ash smiled and gave the woman’s hand a quick squeeze. Then she left, her mind already on everything she needed to accomplish to make sure her Marines were ready for whatever they found when they finally arrived at the Tenasic System.
7
J. W. Campbell, flagship
Taskforce Liberator
Tenasic System
“ADMIRAL?”
Lucinda Ortega stepped inside Admiral O’Malley’s ready room and glanced around. It didn’t surprise her to see no one else there. Over the last two months, she and O’Malley had formed a working partnership, one very much like that shared by Ashlyn Shaw and Miranda Tremayne. Because of that, O’Malley often met with her before bringing in the rest of his senior staff. Of course, the number of senior staff still alive had diminished in that time and, she feared, would once again.
“The others will be here shortly.” He motioned her to a seat at the table and, to her surprise, poured her a mug of coffee. “Our latest sensor readings show a group of ships incoming. General plot seems to confirm the enemy has decided to pay us a visit again.”
“Shit.” It was out before she could stop it. O’Malley nodded, his expression grim. “How many?”
Please don’t let them have been reinforced.
“They are still too far out for a solid reading. Right now, best guess is these are the same ships we drove out last time.”
Lucinda closed her eyes and prayed he was right. Then, when she once again looked at him, she nodded. “I’ve already ordered my Marines to their stations. For the moment, they are backing up Damage Control and the stations they have been trained on. I’ve also sent security details to the Bridge, Engineering, Environmental and the Med Ward. Two companies—” What a laugh. She doubted she had much more than two full companies left of mobile personnel— “are standing by in the staging area. Flight crews are prepping the battle shuttles as well as our remaining LACs.”
“Excellent.” Before he could say anything more, a soft beep sounded, signaling the arrival of the rest of the senior staff.
Five minutes later, O’Malley rapped his knuckles on the tabletop. Instantly, the room fell silent. Grim faces, a few showing a fear Lucinda understood, turned to him. They waited as he called up the system on the holo above the table. For what seemed an eternity but could have only been a few moments, they studied the holo and the too few friendly icons blinking green.
Fear, cold and bitter, formed a knot in Lucinda’s stomach. The taskforce had lost one ship. Few of its personnel had been able to escape before the ship exploded. A second ship was little more than a limping hulk. O’Malley had made the difficult decision not to purge its databanks and scuttle the ship because he didn’t want the enemy to realize just how badly it had hurt the taskforce. That was before she considered the losses to their LACs.
Taskforce Sentinel couldn’t arrive soon enough.
“As you can see,” O’Malley said, drawing her attention back to him. “Sensors currently show a group of ships heading in-system. They are still too far out for a solid ID. However, based on their entry trajectory, I think it safe to assume the enemy has decided to come calling again.”
“Numbers?” Commander Sarah Washington asked. The Indominable’s commanding officer studied the holo plot with a critical eye.
“Best guess only is they are coming in with approximately ten ships.”
O’Malley’s comment brought a groan from several of those present. Even though she understood, Ortega glanced at them, her expression hard. They had to believe the taskforce could hold out. If they faltered, so would those under them. If that happened, not only would the taskforce fall but so would the system. That could not and would not be allowed to happen, not if she had anything to say about it.
“If our estimate’s correct,” O’Malley continued, “we will be outnumbered. We have six ships that can be called anything close to battle ready. Two others are damaged but still capable of fighting on a limited basis. One, the Reginald Perry, is in no shape to be in a fight. Captain Ulch, you are to begin transitioning to the rear of formation immediately. All non-essential personnel are to be transported off-ship immediately. You have four hours.”
O’Malley paused. His expression betrayed he knew he was asking the impossible. “Al, get as many of your people off as you can. We’ll do our best to screen you from the enemy but, for now, we need your ship operational for appearances if nothing else.”
“I understand, sir, and so do my people.”
“We are changing our battle plans this time, ladies and gentlemen. The enemy expects us to come to them. This time, we aren’t going to. We are going to let them come to us. That gives us more time to prepare. It also lets us utilize the defense platforms more to our advantage.”
Ortega listened closely as the admiral laid out his plans. It galled here not to take the fight to the enemy, but O’Malley was right. They needed all the time they could get to prepare for this fight. At least they had at least twelve hours or so before the enemy was within weapons range.
“Sir.” She waited until O’Malley nodded for her to continue. “Sir, I’m the suspicious sort.” A few chuckles sounded, and she smiled slightly. Everyone present knew she trusted the enemy no further than she could throw them, especially when it came to the enemy sticking to known tactics. “We still have a dozen or so of the Odins. I can have the loaded onto several battle shuttles for placement.” She
reached for her datapad and made a couple of quick calculations. “They could be ready for launch within the hour.”
O’Malley considered her suggestion for a moment. Then he glanced around the table, as if judging the reaction of the others. “Comments?”
“It’s an excellent suggestion, sir,” Commander Washington said. “Those missile platforms might be exactly what we need to help hold off the enemy long enough for Taskforce Sentinel to get here.”
“See to it, Colonel.”
Lucinda nodded and sent the order. “The shuttles will launch as soon as they have the platforms loaded and have received locations from Tactical for their placement.”
“What about the civilians dirtside?” Lieutenant Brendan Wainwright asked.
O’Malley didn’t answer immediately. When he did, his regret shown through. “They are on their own.” He held up a hand before anyone could interrupt. “You have served with me long enough to know I would normally send at least some of our Marines dirtside to help man defensive positions there. We simply don’t have the manpower to do so this time. Colonel Ortega has already ordered the Warlords to backup critical positions here on the Campbell, as well as on our other ships. She has to maintain her remaining LAC pilots and their crews as well as at least some of the battle shuttles.”
“If I may, Admiral?” When he nodded, Lucinda continued. “The groundside defense is in far better shape now than it was when we arrived. For once, the Callusians didn’t completely destroy the infrastructure as soon as they landed. Because of that, once we retook the capital, the local army was able to bring their systems back online. Repairs have been made to them and to the defense platform controls. More than that, the locals have had a taste of what it would be like to live under Callusian control. They will do all they can to prevent that from ever becoming their reality. That lets us use my Marines more to our advantage which, right now, means keeping them shipboard and ready to respond where they are most needed.”
