by Chris Hechtl
“There were more care packages?” Shelby asked. She looked at her Captain and then to her father.
“Remember number one?” Renee asked. “The Admiral sent along a list of ships. I remember Kiev 221, and we heard about Cassidy and 555 in Antigua.”
“Oh, yeah, that's right, we did,” Shelby said frowning. “Cassidy didn't have any shipment though. That came in the update.” She shrugged.
Horatio nodded. “Apparently the Admiral has been dropping some breadcrumbs for us wherever he goes. The last one came in three months ago. The Mariah's Mischief. She picked up a load the Admiral left behind in Gaston, along with some news and other things. Destiny missed it by a week I heard. The Mischief carried that warning about Antigua, which was why I dispatched forces there to back you up,” Commander Logan said, looking at Captain Mayweather.
“I see. Thank you for that, sir,” the Captain said with a nod.
“Don't mention it. But in addition to the very welcome gear, we're using some of it to get Kittyhawk into space,” Horatio said, smiling slightly. Captain Mayweather blinked and then nodded. “It also contained updates and gave us an update on the Admiral's planned itinerary. He's doing a blind long jump from Epsilon Triangula to Beta 100 omega.”
Renee blinked in consternation. “Sir, did...”
He nodded, amused slightly by her reaction. “You heard correct Captain. He's the Admiral. He has AI support. Apparently it's been a part of his plan all along. He left some assets in a system south of us, near the Crellis system.”
The Captain frowned. She remembered the system; it was infamous as the system leading to the Rho sector wormhole that the Xenos had used to rampage through the sector. No one went there; the battles and Xeno nano weapons had ravaged the systems. “Crellis...sir that entire area is a wasteland!”
Shelby nodded.
“Yes, I know,” Horatio replied, mouth puckering. “I was there for some of the battles. We finally took the damn gate out, but it wiped out a couple systems doing it. That's why Firefly, some of the other ships, and I ended up floating here actually.”
“Oh.”
Horatio looked away in pain. After a long moment he took a deep breath and then turned. “If he sticks to his plan he'll have gotten to Beta 100 omega by now. He may even have transited to B101a1.”
“Sir,...”
Horatio held up a hand. “All right, Captain. I was pointing it out as another factor. We can't afford to lose the Admiral. We as in civilization.”
They waited patiently. They weren't sure which way it was going to go. “But I agree; I don't like sitting on my ass waiting for the enemy to pick and choose when to attack either. I like the idea of pounding them first, attacking the bastards and throwing them on the defense for once. Mission approved,” he paused, holding up a finger. “It is a limited raid only, jump in, get the intel, and then out. No lone ranger crap like Antigua.”
Mayweather nodded. “Hit and run sir. Got it.” She frowned. She'd thought of making multiple passes like Antigua, going in, tearing them up, then cloaking and coming back around. But with an alert fleet the chances of one of them getting a piece of Firefly and ending their chances of escape was just too high. They had to get back with the intel. The Commander was right about that.
“Spoiler raid. Get in there, cloak, see what they've got, hit anything in range, do as much damage as you can in the time it takes to flip and get your asses back here. We can't afford to lose you either. Got it?”
“Aye, sir.”
“We'll work on getting Firefly turned around. You'll go in a week.”
Mayweather frowned but then nodded reluctantly. She still had some engineering issues to deal with. Antigua and the Yard Dogs were good, but they hadn't had access to milspec replicators. And the ones Firefly carried were too small for a couple pieces.
“Aye, sir.”
“I'll see about crew replacements, munitions and the rest. Get me a list by the end of watch today.”
“Aye, sir.”
Chapter 9
April O'Neill got word from her sources about the plan and contacted Captain Mayweather. She worked her way through the layers of bureaucratic tape to get to Firefly and the Captain. Finally, Renee agreed to meet the woman in person on the dock.
“My, you are a hard lady to get a hold of, you know that?” April said, smiling saucily. “Not that I don't blame you,” she said, dodging a push pull loaded with gear.
“As you can see Miss O'Neill, we're busy,” Renee said, attempting to retreat to the access port where Marines were faithfully guarding the entry to her ship. They were checking each pallet carefully, which was causing a slight back up. She frowned but didn't say anything.
“Resupplying, yes I know. And I know for what as well,” April said before Renee could retreat too far. The Captain turned, polite mask slipping into annoyance and aggravation. “I want to come. I know it is important. I won't get into the details here,” she said, making a show of looking around to the public venue. “Or elsewhere if you agree to take me along.”
Renee was annoyed by the leak. She thought of flat out refusing, but it might cause trouble down the road. She didn't know how to best handle the situation, so she decided caution with a bit of brutal honesty were in order. “We're going into combat, ma'am; that's no place for you to be.”
“As a reporter, I think it's the perfect place for me to be. I've had enough political combat,” April said with a grimace.
“True,” Captain Mayweather said, wrinkling her nose. Firefly's sudden return and news of the Pirate attack in Antigua had kicked up a fire storm in the Governor's race. System Governor Paul, the people's man, Walker was in a dead heat with his own lieutenant Governor and mayor of Anvil, Enrique Fernando. Apparently it had started out as a so-called clean campaign, but Walker's people had quickly devolved into a character match when they realized he was getting hammered in the polls on many of the issues. Not that it was his own fault, of course, he being the champion of the people, Renee thought with a sniff of disdain. Just look what he did for the Alien and Neos with his tax bill, and all the tax shelters he had created for his backers.
It was devolving into a mudslinging contest. Fortunately, Walker had enough mud to bury him if used properly. Apparently, since most of it had played out in the media prior his opponents were holding back from bringing it up again as old news. Walker's campaign had deep pockets and was saturating all the media channels with on-air ads professing his piety and family values.
Enrique was holding up his end, but he had his past going against him as well. His subordinate position to the former Port Admiral, plus his position in the current system cabinet were major detractors. The next two runner-ups weren't any prizes either. Former colony mayors with deep pockets really, but from the media reports, both had checkered pasts. One was putting his family out on display much like Governor Walker, but rumors swirled around that he had a mistress in every port. Renee was suddenly glad she would be gone when the population voted.
“Look, I can't promise anything. You talk to your boss, I'll...I'll talk to the Commander. I'm not promising he'll go along with it,” she held up a finger.
April nodded. “A friend in court, ma'am. I'll do my best not to let you down.”
“I know. You'll owe me big time. Just asking could put me in the dog house,” Mayweather muttered.
“I'm doing a favor now by sitting on the story for as long as I can, ma'am.”
“You just don't want to expose your source,” Mayweather accused.
April spread her hands apart and smiled but didn't say anything.
“Right,” the Captain said eying her. “Keep it on the down low. Get permission from Knox,” She frowned. “I'll work on it from my end but I'm not making any promises.” Renee thought fleetingly of buying as much time as possible. That and dumping the final responsibility for the decision on older, wiser heads. That would keep her hands clean and make her available for later if she needed a return favor.
&
nbsp; April nodded, studying the other woman. Captain Mayweather had matured greatly in her new role. She was playing her part beautifully. “I'll work on it,” she said and they shook hands.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Captain Mayweather and Firefly greeted the newest launched ship, Kittyhawk, the first Escort Carrier built by the Pyrax yard when they approached her for the ordered transfer.
“Captain Nax, good to see you finally having a ship,” Renee said as the early hail nonsense was concluded. Lieutenant Commander Nax was a good officer; he had been a raw ensign, an assistant engineer on Firefly briefly before he had been transferred to the Yard. Apparently, he had worked his way back to being on a ship by building one.
Of course that wasn't too hard; the Yard was mostly shut down right now, lacking parts. Commander Logan had some industrial plants running, but they were mostly filling up space stations with parts they could make or hull components. From what Renee had picked up, they took a ship as far as they could and then mothballed her. It felt wrong, seeing the hundreds of ships just sitting there in their storage orbits.
“She's a bit rough around the edges still Captain Mayweather, but we're getting there,” Nax said. Renee wondered briefly about that statement but the other Captain continued.
“I'm sending you six of my best since you are going into a combat zone. Take care of them. They are good people. Even if they are pilots.”
“I'll try to bring them back in one piece.”
“You do that, ma'am,” Nax replied with a nod. He turned as a Veraxin truehand passed him a tablet. “This is Lieutenant Zir'cc, my XO.”
The Veraxin stepped into range of the camera just as it refocused outward. It was a bit disconcerting before the image stabilized. “Sorry,” an artificial voice said.
“As I said, we're getting there,” Nax said patiently.
“I see that. A pleasure gentlemen,” Renee replied politely as she nodded.
“To you too, ma'am. I wish we were in shape to go with you,” Nax replied with a wistful sigh.
“Another time and place perhaps Captain. Gentlemen,” Renee said nodding again. A rating passed her a cup of steaming coffee and a tablet with the morning reports. “Well, as you can see, paperwork awaits.”
“Ah yes, and us too. I think Lieutenant Yeager will give your orphans a good home here ma'am. We'll try to fit them right in.”
“Thank you Kittyhawk. They are good people. Each has over a thousand hours of flight time, and both pilots have earned their spurs.”
Nax's eyes widened briefly before he nodded. “In that case ma'am, they might get a squadron Commander position or even a CAG slot on John Paul Jones when she launches.”
“Maybe,” The Veraxin interjected.
“We shall see. Goddess speed gentlemen.”
Both Kittyhawk officers turned back to her and nodded. “Good hunting Firefly. Goddess of space protect you and yours. Kittyhawk out.”
Firefly received transferred Cobra fighters, pilots and some crew from the carrier to fill combat losses on Firefly. A shuttle followed the fighters over.
Kittyhawk had two dumb AI on board, Orville and Wilbur. They took turns in their positions to keep from going stale; one helped to run the ship while the other kept an eye on flight ops.
Both were chatty; they chatted up Firefly in a microburst of conversation while the organics exchanged their own pleasantries. Firefly downloaded their situation and then informed his Captain when she retired to her wardroom with her second cup of coffee of the morning and the morning reports.
Mayweather listened as the AI explained their checkered history and rather sorry condition. Kittyhawk had been launched with one small fusion reactor that had been cobbled together from parts the Admiral had replicated before he had left and those he had sent on Lieandra. She lacked force emitters for shields or a wedge, but even without the shields she was still woefully underpowered. Only two of her fusion drives had been installed, she was slow as a barge, which was to some fitting. She lacked a hyperdrive, and since she couldn't go far, the Yard had only installed minimum sensors in her. She did, however, have a rather powerful communications array.
Her class had been planned on paper to have the same stealth as Firefly. Instead she was a sitting duck waiting to be plucked. One catapult at a time could be used, with a five-minute recharge time for the capacitors. The ship was plagued by a shortage of parts and constant engineering issues. Accidents were common, some every few hours.
“That new Chief Petty officer we picked up from them, Chief Joe Gray, said a lot about her. He's an old salt, a bit superstitious. He said she's a cursed ship. I'm betting her morale is in the crapper.”
When he was done she whistled in sympathy. “I'd expect that after hearing that mess,” Renee said. “Remind the boat bay to work the noobs in then.”
“And check their fighters over carefully before they do touch and goes. Aye, ma'am,” Firefly replied. “That ship and crew have their work cut out for them,” Firefly finished. “I don't envy them at all.”
“Yeah,” Renee said, shaking her head. She'd traded two of her pilots for the six she had gotten. Now she wondered if she'd traded up or down.
“I hope Orville is on top of it. I hope he has enough power to stay functional. If the situation is that serious, they should never had launched the ship in the first place,” Firefly said. “They should have stayed in drydock.”
“Orville?”
“And Wilbur. Two AI, dumb AI like I was before Commander Sprite got her hooks into me. One for the ship, the other to run flight ops.”
Renee blinked, face clearing. “Oh.”
“Class two dumb AI I believe. They are canned AI, ones that were created before the Admiral and Sprite left and then stored for future ships. Apparently that Centaurian programmer Veber figured out how to load them and boot them. Hopefully, something can be done about them later. “
Renee nodded, looking briefly to her cooling coffee cup and then to the AI avatar. “We'll see. I think Commander Logan wants the ship out even if she's below 50%. She's a carrier, but technically...I think he called it a fighter barge?”
“Yes, ma'am, that's the term. But we can achieve the same level of training on the orbital fortresses that are outfitted for fighter duties,” Firefly replied.
“But this offers platform redundancy, an additional platform to train from, and well,” Mayweather smiled. “Kittyhawk is mobile. Sort of,” she shrugged.
“Yes. Slow as an anemic snail as some would say,” Firefly replied, sounding disgusted.
“True,” the Captain replied, smiling slightly. “We'd run rings around them,” she said, smiling with just the hint of feral challenge in it and her eyes.
“Yes, but the point of a carrier is not to engage directly. Her fighter group would tear us apart,” Firefly pointed out.
“Not if our own squadron had something to say about that,” Renee replied.
“Which they would. Right up until they were overwhelmed by numbers and let a bomber squadron through to rip me a new one. I wish we had the time to train with them. Even a virtual exercise would be interesting,” Firefly said.
“True. Unfortunately, we don't. Remind me to see if we can when we return. In the meantime, get the new chicks up to speed. Do a series of sims to get a rough assessment of their skills and compare it to their files. Plug any holes you can.”
“Aye aye, ma'am, I'll add it to the to do list,” the AI replied. Renee smiled slightly and then returned to her coffee and reports.
---( | ) --- ( | )---
Captain Mayweather dutifully put in the request for April as her people finished testing the newly-installed equipment. A pair of lighters were alongside, transferring last minute replacement parts, munitions, supplies, and personnel. “Absolutely not,” Logan said firmly when she finished, shaking his head.
“I see,” Renee said with a shrug. She smiled inwardly.
Logan's eyes narrowed over the video feed; he had been expectin
g some sort of argument. “No. We're not sending a civilian into combat. Especially not that particular civilian. No.”
“You may want to tell her boss that, sir. She's asking him sometime soon,” Renee warned him with exquisite politeness. “It wouldn't do to have Marines refuse her entry on camera after all.”
Logan studied her for a long moment, reassessing her. After a moment he nodded grimly. “Don't worry, I'll handle it. Your hands are clean.”
“Thank you, sir,” Renee replied with a slight hint of relief in her voice.
“I could tell just the way you asked that you weren't thrilled about the idea,” Horatio said, smiling slightly. “And it's not the first time I've seen how this game is played. I'll deal with it and any fall out will fall on me.”
Renee nodded curtly. “Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”
“Go on then. You've got work to do.”
“Aye aye, sir. Thank you.”
“And now you don't have to worry about messing up in front of the media. But don't take that as an invite to do so Commander. I expect Firefly back in one piece. Don't go all John Wayne again.”
“I'll try not to, sir.”
“Definitely not. Leave something for us,” The Commander said, this time with just a hint of a tiger lurking in his lips. Renee blinked at him and then slowly returned the smile.
“I think an attack would liven things up here. And hell, I'd love to see our people and gear blooded and tested in combat.”
“And it'd give certain people with big mouths some foot to chew on,” Renee replied with a malicious smile. She'd heard the crap Governor Walker had been putting the Commander through.
“True,” Logan replied lazily. He looked to his left off camera and then frowned, face cooling. “I've got some more damn red tape to deal with. Get me a report when you are finished loading.”
“Aye, sir. I'll check with the XO shortly. She's handling it.”
