The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3)

by Christopher Nuttall

  “Captain,” Griffin said. He was damned if he were grovelling to her. “Congratulations on your victory.”

  “I’m sorry you felt the need to call for a formal Captain’s Board,” Hoshiko said. Her voice was icy cold. “I would like you to assume command of the defences of Martina, Commander. The system is becoming more important to us - and to the Grand Alliance - as both an economic chokepoint and a production node. Defending it against all comers is an important job.”

  But one that removes me from the chain of command, Griffin thought. On paper, it wasn't much of a punishment; in reality, it was a slap across the face. Maybe it wasn't quite an assignment to a remote asteroid mining station, but it might as well be. And it lets her still make use of me.

  “Understood, Captain,” he said.

  “I will be forwarding a formal report, along with the sealed recordings, to Fleet Command,” Hoshiko added. “They will, I suspect, call us both on the carpet. Until then ...”

  She shrugged. “You’ll be relieved of duty once we reach Amstar,” she added. “Until then, I want you to continue supervising the repairs. We need to be in fighting trim by the time we reach the planet.”

  “Because the Druavroks might have launched a counterattack,” Griffin said. He was surprised he hadn't been told to stay in his cabin until the time came for him to leave the ship, but the Captain was short on experienced personnel. “Amstar is heavily defended, but they might be willing to soak up the losses needed to take it.”

  “Correct,” Hoshiko agreed. She shook her head. “The force that mounted a successful ambush, Commander, was clearly more devious than any of the other forces we faced. Who knows what we’ll face in the future?”

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Oklahoma became the fifth state to join the Alliance for the Preservation of the United States after the National Guard was attacked by federal troops. Reports from the ground state that the situation is confused, with the federal troops unsure if they should be holding their current positions - despite sniper fire - or withdrawing to safer territory.

  -Solar News Network, Year 54

  “It’s not quite as bad as you might have feared,” Captain Ryman said.

  “That’s a relief,” Hoshiko said. The squadron had exited FTL at red alert, all weapons and shields ready for war, only to discover that the predicted attack on Amstar hadn't materialised. They’d entered orbit, allowing her to teleport down to the Grand Alliance’s rapidly-expanding headquarters. “Just how bad is it?”

  “There was some panic at first,” Captain Ryman assured her. “But when the council had a good chance to review the records, Captain, they realised just what a powerful and capable ally you were. Putting your own ships at risk to save countless alien vessels made a very good impression on them. They wouldn't have blamed you for ordering the fleet to scatter without fighting a rearguard action.”

  “I would have blamed myself,” Hoshiko said. “I couldn't have just fled for my life.”

  “It probably saved the alliance,” Captain Ryman said. “And it certainly saved the Grand Fleet.”

  Hoshiko nodded. “I’m going to have to go back on the offensive as soon as possible,” she said. “Is the Tokomak ship ready for deployment?”

  “As ready as she will ever be,” Captain Ryman said. “She really needs a proper refit before we can take her into combat, but ...”

  “It won’t matter,” Hoshiko said, cutting him off. “I only want her to carry as many missiles as we can cram onto her hull.”

  “It shouldn't take more than a week to make any changes,” Captain Ryman said. “What do you plan to do with her?”

  “The Druavroks worship the Tokomak,” Hoshiko said. “I dare say a Tokomak ship, with Tokomak codes, has an excellent chance of sneaking through their defences and opening fire at point-blank range. Even if she doesn't ... at least we’ll give them a fright.”

  “Understood,” Captain Ryman said. “It will be a suicide mission, Captain.”

  “I know,” Hoshiko said. “We could use a courier boat again, if we can't fly the ship remotely. I think we’ll just have to work on the ship and see what becomes practicable.”

  She sighed. Losing Commander Wilde was going to hurt, even though she couldn't avoid doing something to make her displeasure known. If he’d come to her privately ... but she wouldn't have changed her mind, no matter what he’d said. Calling the Captain’s Board had been his only reasonable option and it had failed. And that failure had come with a cost.

  “I’ve been gathering intelligence over the last couple of weeks,” Captain Ryman said. “My officers have prepared a full briefing, but it looks very much as though the Druavroks are readying a force to attack deeper into our space. They may well intend to target Amstar itself.”

  “I’m surprised they haven’t already tried,” Hoshiko said. “The longer they leave Amstar alone, the stronger our defences become.”

  “They may fear the consequences of even a successful attack,” Captain Ryman said. “It will cost them dearly if they try to plunge though our defences.”

  Hoshiko nodded. The argument had been rehashed time and time again during her strategy sessions - and deflected, perhaps, with the observation that the Druavroks were not human and might not be bound by human - or Tokomak - logic. They had managed to set a quite successful ambush, after all. Clearly, there was more to their conduct than mindless rage and hatred of everything different from themselves.

  “Or they’re planning to hit elsewhere,” she mused. “Where could they go?”

  “There’s at least seven possible targets within two weeks of flight,” Captain Ryman said. “A successful attack on even one of them would cost us dearly, all the more so if they don’t land on the planet and just bombard it from space.”

  “I’ll read the full report later,” Hoshiko said. Her wristcom bleeped. “One moment.”

  She keyed the wristcom, then raised it to her mouth. “Stuart.”

  “Captain,” Biscoe said. “Rustbucket has just returned to the system. Her commander reports a successful mission.”

  “Good,” Hoshiko said. The small patrol boat would be nothing more than an easy target, if all hell broke loose, but she had her uses elsewhere. “Inform her commanding officer that I wish to see him as soon as he is within teleport range.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Biscoe said.

  Hoshiko scowled inwardly as she made her goodbyes to Captain Ryman - declining his offer of lunch or a chance to press the flesh with some of their alien allies - and teleported back to the ship. Losing Griffin was definitely going to hurt. Biscoe didn't have the experience to command Fisher himself, which meant she had to split the task of commanding the Grand Fleet and commanding the cruiser. It was why Admirals normally came with huge staffs of their own, even in the Solar Union. They were meant to be separate from the commanding officers of their ships.

  But it couldn't be helped, she told herself bitterly. There was no choice.

  ***

  “Welcome back, Ensign,” Captain Stuart said, as Thomas stepped into her office. “I read your report.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Thomas said, nervously. He’d expected to meet Commander Wilde, not his ultimate superior. “We took out an alien fabber.”

  “I also read your report on the decision you made concerning the alien miners,” Captain Stuart said. “You do realise they may have been tortured and killed by their own people?”

  “Yes, Captain,” Thomas said. He still wasn't sure if he’d made the right call or not. “I didn't want to kill innocent beings.”

  “I understand your position,” Captain Stuart said, curtly. “However, you were under orders to do everything in your power to disrupt the Druavroks. Or was I mistaken when I wrote your orders?”

  Thomas swallowed. “I believe the asteroid miners would not have made much difference,” he said, finally. He wanted to argue, but he knew it could end badly. “It would not be hard for them to replace the miners, if they didn't
just tow an asteroid into orbit and start breaking it down for raw materials there.”

  “The hell of it is that you will probably never know,” Captain Stuart said. She looked down at her desk for a long moment. “Would losing the miners have ensured that the Druavroks lost the war? Or would it just have been a pinprick they’d barely notice?”

  She looked up at him. “What do you think?”

  “I think it would have been a pinprick,” Thomas said. “Killing the miners would not have made much difference, certainly nothing on the same scale as destroying a fabber.”

  “Probably not, no,” the Captain agreed. “But you will never know.”

  She leaned back in her command chair. “Is Rustbucket ready to depart?”

  “She just needs a replacement missile,” Thomas said. “We didn't expend our missiles against an enemy target.”

  “Your crew can have a day of leave, then ready the ship to depart tomorrow,” the Captain said. “I have a specific task for you.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Thomas said.

  The Captain keyed a switch, projecting a starchart into the air above the desk. “The Druavroks have been gathering forces here, at Tarsus,” she said. “At least ninety battleships, according to the last report; they’re well within striking range of a dozen possible targets, including both Amstar and Martina. Your mission is to keep an eye on them and report at once the moment they depart.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Thomas said. “We won’t be able to shadow them, though.”

  “Not without being unable to report home,” the Captain agreed. “And yes, they could change course in midflight. But at least you’ll give us some warning.”

  Thomas nodded. Rustbucket might be old, but she was fast. If the Druavroks set off for Amstar, there was a very good chance he could outrace them and warn the defenders before the enemy entered long-range detection range. And even if they went somewhere else, there was at least a reasonable chance he could get warning to the Grand Fleet in time to intervene and intercept the enemy before the Druavroks crushed their target.

  “Understood, Captain,” he said. “My crew will be glad of the leave too.”

  “They deserve it,” the Captain said. She smiled, wryly. “What made you think of sneaking an antimatter warhead through their defences like that?”

  “I couldn't think of a way to get at the fabber without being blown to atoms,” Thomas said, reluctantly. “And then I remembered the freighter we used to approach Malachi.”

  The Captain’s smile grew wider. “Good luck, Ensign,” she said. “You were definitely one of the more successful raiders.”

  Thomas blinked. “How many others have returned?”

  “Five, so far,” the Captain said. “They all hit freighters or asteroid mining stations. You’re the only one who got a fabber.”

  “But there were nearly a hundred ships sent out,” Thomas protested.

  “Yes,” the Captain said. “And, so far, only six have returned. Think on that while you’re enjoying your leave.”

  “Aye, Captain,” Thomas said.

  “I believe the reporter will want to speak to you too,” the Captain added. “If you don’t want to be interviewed, I suggest you keep out of sight while you’re on the planet.”

  “Yes, Captain,” Thomas said.

  ***

  The sensor records had been stepped down, Max noted, but he still had more than enough data to put together a comprehensive picture of the running battle that had cost two cruisers and over two hundred human lives. He honestly wasn't sure if the Captain was brave or a complete lunatic, yet he had to admit that her actions had probably saved thousands of ships and hundreds of thousands of lives. The story wasn't quite as dramatic as the attack on Malachi or the liberation of Dab-Yam, but it still showcased human ingenuity and determination overcoming treacherous alien ambushes.

  But they did manage to ambush us successfully, he thought, remembering the moment the second alien fleet had appeared on the display. And it would have worked if the Captain hadn’t plunged us right into the teeth of their fire.

  It was an odd thought. He’d grown up in a universe where technology was the only thing keeping the human race alive, where a single mistake with a spacesuit could kill someone before they had a chance to realise what had gone wrong. It hadn't taken him and his peers long to understand why they had to maintain everything, why they couldn't drop their guard even once. But now, he felt oddly conflicted about remaining on the ship. He’d felt braver when he’d jumped down to Amstar or followed the marines onto the alien fabber.

  I suppose I was more in control then, he thought. He was nothing more than a helpless passenger on the ship, even if the ship was far stronger and more durable than even a heavy combat battlesuit. I could shoot back at the enemy while I was in the suit, if I wanted ...

  Max uploaded the completed report to the network, then turned his attention to a list of notes for future reports. Interviews with aliens were inherently less popular in the Solar Union - it was hard to convince watchers and readers that internal alien affairs mattered to Sol - but a set of good interviews would make interesting viewing, particularly if he termed them bonus material. The viewers who wanted more in-depth information would be gratified ... he started to key requests for interviews into the command network, only to be interrupted by a message. The Captain wanted to see him.

  “I’m on my way,” he said, rising. “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

  He shut down his terminal, then walked through the hatch and up to the Captain’s cabin, slipping past a number of crewmen working on the ship. Fisher hadn't been badly damaged, he’d been assured, but the hammering she’d taken had inflicted enough harm to force the crew to spend weeks repairing it. Max had a private suspicion that the damage was worse than he’d been told, although he’d kept that theory to himself. There was no point in adding it to the reports when losing two cruisers was already quite bad enough.

  No one would notice the loss of two cruisers back home, he thought. It wasn't entirely true, but the Solar Navy operated over two thousand heavy cruisers. Hell, they made up the backbone of the fleet! Here, losing a single cruiser damages our ability to fight.

  The hatch leading into the cabin hissed open when he approached, allowing him to step inside. Captain Stuart was sitting behind her desk, reading yet another report; she looked up, then nodded to the sofa. Max sat down and waited, patiently, until she was finished. He wasn't quite sure why the XO had been dispatched to Martina, but reading between the lines of a couple of ambiguous comments, he had a sneaking suspicion that there had been a major clash between them. Why else would Captain Stuart have sent her strong right arm light years from the squadron.

  “Max,” Captain Stuart said, putting the datapad aside. “I viewed your report. It was as concise and detailed as always.”

  “Thank you, Captain,” Max said. “I try to embed as much data within the reports as possible.”

  “Thankfully, local morale has not been too badly damaged by the bruising encounter,” Captain Stuart added. “It would have been worse, I suspect, if they’d lost a great many warships in the fighting, but as it turned out casualties were quite low. However, we still need to retake the offensive as soon as possible.”

  “Of course, Captain,” Max said. “You want to convince the aliens that we’re not going to allow the Druavroks to intimidate us.”

  “More or less,” Captain Stuart agreed, with a thin smile. She leaned forward, resting her elbows on the desk. “The Druavroks, I suspect, have started to class us as a more dangerous race than anyone else within the sector, but they don’t seem to have learned caution yet. I need to hit them before they start thinking we’re not so dangerous after all.”

  “I’m glad to hear that your confidence hasn't been shaken,” Max said, truthfully. “I was afraid you might have lost your nerve.”

  “Bad rolls of the dice are inevitable, to borrow a line from my grandfather,” Captain Stuart said. “It’s what
you make of those rolls - and how you recover from them - that shows what you’re made of.”

  She tapped her fingers together, thoughtfully. “I checked and rechecked the records,” she added. “There was no sign of anything before the enemy fleet uncloaked, Max; there were no reports of energy disturbances that we overlooked, nothing that might have suggested they were there before the shit hit the fan. The analysts think they actually had their drives stepped down and main power largely deactivated, just to make it harder for us to detect them.”

  “Brave,” Max commented.

  “Very brave,” Captain Stuart agreed. “If we’d known they were there, Max, we would have slaughtered them before they managed to power up their shields and return fire. A hundred freighters, crammed with single-shot missile launchers, would have obliterated a fleet of battleships. They took that risk just to get at us!”