Scouts Out 3_War

by Danny Loomis

  “Too bad we can’t gradually work our troops in like Lawry wants to, but I think we’ll need to go ahead and send the rest of our troops down, after I’ve had a talk with President Kendall.”

  Winters smiled. “Glad it’s you that has to do the convincing. Myself, I find that stiffnecked prig hard to convince to do anything.”

  Haven snorted. “Very true, unless you’ve got an oversized fleet in the skies above to underline your unvoiced threats.” He keyed his intercom. “Lieutenant, call President Kendall. Tell him it’s a priority call from me.” He leaned his elbows on the desk. “I notice you look a little under the weather.”

  “Got involved with some issues between our Viper commander and the flight deck officer. Decided to stay up since it was almost time to get up when we finished.”

  “Get some sleep after this is over. You know better than to wear yourself out like this. That’s what you have an XO for.”

  His intercom lit up. “President Kendall’s on line one, Admiral.”

  “Listen and learn, Captain,” he said with a wink. He turned to his comm. “President Kendall, Grand Admiral Haven here. So good of you to call me back.”

  Minutes later he shut down the comm and sat back with a satisfied smile. “Captain, let General Lawry know his forces will now be in charge of roadblocks, with the Legs in support. Same everywhere except in the four largest cities. Oh, and land the Second Regiment we’ve held in reserve. Put them on the Burundan continent. General Lawry can decide on their placement after that.”

  “How about increasing the number of attack shuttles and Vipers on-planet, Sir? You still want to do that?”

  “Glad you reminded me. Yes, but I want to keep a good supply of them close in-system, too. Have six of the Battleships from our reserve force move in long enough to drop them off, will you?”

  “Won’t that give away their position, Sir? Thought you wanted to keep their presence a secret.”

  Haven hesitated, thinking. “No, I think we’ll be all right. Have them move in and out without a bunch of fanfare. Even giving up fifteen Vipers and ten attack shuttles each will leave them with enough to pull security. The rest of the reserves can pick up the slack for awhile.”

  “Sounds good, Sir. Anything else?”

  Haven smiled. “No, except after you get your people moving on those tasks, you’re to take the next six hours off. Now move it.”

  He watched Captain Winters hurry from his office. A good officer, but took too much on himself. He was turning back to his desk when his aide knocked on his door. “Sir, Major Vogel has arrived for your meeting with him.”

  “Send him in.”

  Vogel strode in, coming to attention in front of his desk. “Reporting as ordered, Sir.”

  Haven waved him to a chair. “Relax, Major. You may be in official disfavor for what happened at Murray’s Rest, but not with me. Your actions were just premature is all.”

  Vogel perched on the edge of his chair. “Understood, Sir. Unfortunately I seem to have embarrassed other members of my chain of command, and they’ve relieved me of duties planetside.”

  Haven cocked his head. “I hope you don’t mind my taking advantage of your problems, but if you’re willing I’d like to assign you as my personal Liaison to Fleet Intel.”

  A genuine smile covered Vogel’s face. “I–of course, Sir. It would be an honor.”

  “Good. I’ve even got your first assignment lined up, and it’s a big one. I want you to double-check all personnel files of those assigned to the Ragnarok. Look for any other individuals who may have been sent to keep an eye on me by the First Speaker.”

  “Of course, Admiral. Anything else?”

  “Not right now–wait, there was one more thing. Remember the last conversation we had? I told you we’d just reassign the individuals you’d already identified, rather than risk having new threats assigned we might not catch.” He handed over a list. “These two have been getting restive. Conducting what they think are secret meetings. Could you see they are removed?”

  Vogel straightened. “I would be glad to, Sir.”

  * * *

  “Call coming in on the secure line, Sir.”

  Irish looked up from the map he’d been studying, and reached for the comm. The Erebus normally called at noon, an hour from now. “This is Scout one, what’s up?”

  “We just got a message from Grant,” Shag said. “You’re to turn over command of the snipers to Two Eagles and get your ass up here ASAP. We’ll tell y’more when you arrive.” The line went dead.

  He flipped his comm to Tac one. Sounded like things were finally heating up. About time. “Scout two, this is Scout one. Head for my office when you break for lunch, will you?”

  “This is Scout two. Roger.”

  Irish sat back, stretching his lower back. Damn, too much paperwork. Right now, he was the only one not involved in training more snipers. Be good to get back into space.

  By the time Two Eagles arrived, he’d packed his rucksack. “Hey, Staff. I’ve been called back to the Erebus. You’re in charge. In fact, you’re the new Commander of the sniper company. That okay with you?”

  “About time you recognized who the real boss is here,” Two Eagles said with a smile.

  “Before you get too swelled a head, why don’t you go find Sergeant Nolan. The two of you can be my taxi service up to the Erebus.”

  Once the shuttle touched down in the bay of Erebus, its ramp lowered. Irish waved a hand towards Nolan and Two Eagles. “I’ll be in touch.” He stepped from the shuttle to a greeting from Willy.

  “Hope you enjoyed your vacation. We lined up some real work for you now.” Both watched the shuttle back out of the ship, turn and literally vanish before their eyes.

  Shag strode up. “Always get a kick outta watching that.”

  After storing his gear, Irish headed for the flight deck. “Hope you two sterilized the pilot’s seat. Wouldn’t want to catch any of your weird diseases.”

  He double-checked the readouts while sitting. All systems green. “How’s the ramp seal holding?”

  Shag chuckled. “I swear Willy’s eyeballed that patch job he did a dozen times since you left.”

  “Patch job! That’s better work than what they’d do back at the maintenance shop in Sector HQ, I’ll have you know.”

  Irish shook his head. “I see nothing’s changed since I left. Now what was all the commotion about that made you call me back up here?”

  Shag tapped a key, sending an encrypted file to his screen. “Orders straight from Mister Grant. Got them the day we called you.”

  “Several corvettes have arrived back in the system,” Willy said. “We get messages ever week now, and the signal’s always from a different location. I’ve identified three different commo techs by the way they write messages, too.”

  Irish straightened after keying open the file and reading the first page. “Well, hell. This is the pits.” He unfastened the Captain’s tab from his collar and tossed it to Shag. “I’m not your boss anymore. Sorry, Willy, but you’re going to have to put up with Shag as Captain of the ship for awhile.”

  Silence reigned for ten seconds before it was explosively broken by Shag. “What the damnation’s going on? You don’t deserve…”

  “Yeah, what happened?” Willy all but shouted. “You ain’t done anything to deserve bein’ relieved. Here you been doin’ two jobs at once, and pretty good, too!”

  Irish held up a hand. “Calm down, guys. Looks like it’s only temporary. Once we chase the Alliance out of Eire, I get to be Captain again.” He looked around. “Did anyone deliver a small briefcase along with the messages last time?”

  Willy jumped up. “Back in a minute.”

  “Yeah, the corvette Captain wasn’t happy sending his shuttle over just to deliver it. Had everybody wondering what the big deal was.”

  “Here you are.” Willy dropped a small attaché case in his lap. “Not sure what’s goin
’ on, but the orders said it was only to be opened by you.”

  After a glance at the case, he put it aside. “I’d better finish reading the file before I open that can of worms.”

  Shag groaned. “Damn, you sure know how to drive a person crazy. We been going nuts trying to figure out what could be so important it had to be hand-delivered.”

  Willy started to speak, and paused. He poked Shag. “Lookit his eyes,” he whispered.

  Irish had shut out the world around him, and was flicking through pages on the screen one every five seconds. Within a short time he’d finished the entire hundred-page document sent along with his orders.

  He blinked back to awareness, startled at the intense stare his shipmates were giving him. “What? What’s wrong?”

  Willy gave a slow shake of his head. “Man, I used to think Shag and me were weird, till we met you.” He moved back to his weapons station, still shaking his head.

  “You were speed reading faster’n I’ve ever seen anyone do before,” Shag whispered. “You sure you’re not a machine? ‘Cause if you are, I promise I won’t tell.”

  “No, not any more than you are,” he said. “The microchip they put in my head was originally just for helping fly military ships. Had some side effects, like making me into a speed reader if I focused hard enough.”

  He turned back to the screen. “What I was reading happened to be our orders for the next three weeks. After that, sounds like all hell’s going to break loose around here.”

  “Any word about how the war’s goin’?” Willy asked.

  “Yes. Some good, some not so good, at least for us. The first planetary system the Alliance invaded on their drive into the Eire system has been retaken. Unfortunately, the Confederation didn’t destroy or capture very many ships or troops when they moved in. Seems the Alliance decided to move the majority of their forces to the fourth system they’d taken and fortify there.”

  “So how’s that affect us?” Shag asked.

  “It means they had to decide whether to attack the fourth system and bull their way through, or bypass it. They decided for the bypass option.”

  Shag cocked his head. “Kinda worrisome leaving a large force of the enemy behind you, isn’t it?”

  Irish shrugged. “I’d think everyone knew that was dangerous. I suspect they got something up their sleeve, since Sector Command hasn’t been quite that stupid lately.”

  “What’re we doing now?” Willy asked.

  “That’s another strange thing. We sit here and wait for a signal. Then, I go brief someone before heading back for Eire. We’ve got to heat the pot to a boil in the next three weeks. By then, the Confederation forces plan on being here.”

  “How they going to handle the Ragnarok?” Shag asked. “Seems like that thing could just about take on the entire space force by itself.”

  Irish laughed. “I really wouldn’t want to see that, but if they managed to beat it to death with sheer numbers, I’m sure it’d cost us too dearly. So I don’t have a clue what they’re going to do. Hopefully they’re bringing something to deal with that monster.” He lowered the back of his seat. “In the meantime, all we can do is wait for a signal from we don’t know who to do we don’t know what. Sounds like one of Grant’s plans, doesn’t it?”

  “What about the case, Cap?” asked Shag. “Aren’t you curious ‘bout what’s in it?”

  Irish glanced at the attaché case, then at Shag. “Nope. Already know.” He snuggled down and closed his eyes, trying not to smile.

  Eight hours later the call arrived. “Got something,” Shag said, leaning forward to study his screen. “We’re supposed to head for the following coordinates. Somebody’ll join us there.”

  * * *

  The Erebus arrived at the coordinates they’d been given fifteen light-minutes above the elliptic plane of the Eire system, and shut down. Willy checked that all weapons were on line, and straightened. “Last word we got said they’d be waitin’ for us.”

  “Heh. Since when has the Navy ever been on time for anything?” Shag asked.

  “Since now.” Irish pointed at the screen as a shuttle appeared from cloaking on the port side.

  Shag busied himself at his board. “You go get ready, Cap. We’ll guide him in, okay?”

  “Sounds good.” He moved to his cubicle, picking up a briefcase and double-checking its contents before heading down to the bay.

  The box-shaped shuttle entered the bay and settled to the floor, lowering its ramp. By the time he’d entered, it was once more lifting. “Strap in,” came the call from the bridge. “We got orders to have you at the flagship ASAP, Sir.”

  “All set,” he called, fastening into the first seat he came to. Glad they were in a hurry, didn’t want to be stalled any longer than necessary from getting back to Eire. He felt the surge when they moved out. Even though the gravity dampers handled most of the acceleration, he could still feel it. Must be pushing the limits of speed they could do while in cloaking.

  After ten minutes they slowed. “Prepare for landing.”

  Irish flipped up the screen attached to his seat and watched while they approached a ghostly image that slowly came clear. The familiar beehive front of a carrier appeared, its kilometers-long box of a body fading behind. Seconds later they were slipping into one of the landing bays.

  An officer met him when he exited, a Commander dressed in whites. He forced himself to remain relaxed. Should have worn something other than his shipboard coveralls.

  “Captain Shannon? Commodore Seacroft is waiting. This way.”

  Irish entered the Commodore’s office and came to attention, just as Seacroft arose and walked around his desk, hand outstretched. “Just a reminder, Mister Ambassador, you don’t need to do that bullshit anymore.” He gripped his hand with a smile. “At least not until the war’s over, that is.”

  “Thanks, Sir. I see bad news travels fast.”

  Seacroft led him to a small conference table. “Depends on what you consider bad news. Most people I know would be dancing in the street for what you got.”

  Irish laughed. “Any of them happen to be Wasp pilots? I’d trade places with them in a heartbeat.”

  Seacroft gave him a sharp glance while punching buttons on the desktop so a screen rose up. “I heard about your flight school experience from your boss. Lieutenant Commander Ridley has stifled more than one pilot’s skills over the past couple years.”

  “Mister Grant would be the one to know. He used the opportunity to recruit me, for which I’ve been grateful. So far.”

  “To work,” Seacroft said. “This information is the latest we have on the war effort. You probably heard we’re bypassing the fourth star system in our push to get to Eire. Which means the task force should be close to attacking here soon.

  “Our strike force has been moving in-system for a month since exiting N-space several light hours out from here. We’ve gotten daily updates since then by laser commo, so haven’t been too far out of the loop.”

  “How large a force do you have, Sir?” Irish asked.

  Seacroft gave him a smile. “Okay, I’ll let you call me Sir in private. But remember, I Sir you in public.” He turned back to the screen. “I brought eight carriers with me. Took a chance, since we don’t have any screening ships to protect us other than our own Wasp forces.”

  Irish handed him a data cube. “I brought an updated map showing locations of all forces, including the reserve force they’ve got hidden ten light minutes above the Ragnarok. Don’t know how many, but we spotted six battleships sneaking back into that area a few days ago.”

  “We’ll give it a look.” Seacroft brought up a picture of the Ragnarok on the screen. “In the meantime, you’ve seen this monster up close and personal when it was attacking our forces in the Edo system. What can you tell me about its weaknesses?”

  Irish shuddered. “If you’re thinking about attacking it only with Wasps, it would be suicide. You’d need
a large force of superdreadnoughts to draw its attention away from the small fry long enough for you to get in close so you could use blasters. Even then, there’re damn few places you could cause it harm.” He paused, thinking. “With support, you might be able to damage these two areas.” He touched the screen near the engines and behind the bridge.

  “Why there?”

  “If you damaged the grasers enough to get within blaster range, you could kill the engines. I noticed at Edo that it kept turning its backside away from the most potent threat. And a hundred meters behind the bridge is an overlapping of screens that tends to fluctuate, according to one of my folks that’s studied battle tapes of it.”

  By now Seacroft was completely focused. “What does that fluctuation mean?”

  Irish shrugged. “Don’t know. But anything that’s not normal about the defensive array of this beast may be a weakness.”

  Several minutes later Seacroft stood. “Okay, think I’ve drained your brain on that subject. Now, I’d like to get rid of some passengers that we’re told you need down on Eire.” He turned to the doorway. “Lieutenant? You can come in now.”

  Lieutenant Francis “Franny” Smith breezed in, a large smile on his face. “Good morning, Commodore. I hear you’ve got somebody that thinks they’re really important visiting you today.”

  Irish leaped up. “Franny! Damn, man, I heard the LRS might be heading this way.” He grabbed him in a hug, then stepped away, embarrassed. “Sorry, Commodore, just haven’t seen this guy since the last time he bailed my ass out of jail.”

  “Hah! That wasn’t me, Sir. You’ve got to blame Grant for that.”

  Seacroft touched Irish on the shoulder. “Sorry to break up your reunion Mister Ambassador, but my aide tells me our evening meal is ready. I insist you join me before heading back to your duties. I invited Lieutenant Smith to join us, if you don’t mind.”

  “Thank you, Commodore. I gladly accept.” He followed after Seacroft, mind still trying to catch up with events of the day.

  * * *

  “Okay, quiet down,” Franny called over the noise of thirty-three individuals settling in. For the first time, the Erebus looked crowded. Over half the platoon was seated on the floor. “Time to find out how you’re going to earn your keep.” He turned to Irish. “They’re all yours, Sir.”