StarFight 1: Battlestar

by T. Jackson King

  “Bannerjee is the only deck chief who did not support Mr. Renselaer retaining ship command,” Alicia said quickly.

  O’Sullivan grew thoughtful. “Renselaer, Branstead, hold a moment while I hear what this officer has to say.”

  Jacob watched and watched and felt the hairs on his neck and arms rise up. Was this going to be the end of his first command? What he had done had never before been done. The base captain moved back into view, his expression neutral.

  “Mr. Renselaer, Lieutenant Commander Bannerjee says he is the senior surviving officer on the Lepanto, of which only two others are present. Lieutenant Branstead and Lieutenant JG Yamamoto. Why should you remain in command?”

  Below him Richard stood up. “Captain O’Sullivan, I am Chief Warrant Officer Richard O’Connor, in charge of our Marine boarding team and assault Darts. Don’t you recognize me, son?”

  O’Sullivan looked startled, then thoughtful. “I do, now. You were my hand-to-hand combat instructor at the academy, far too many years ago. Richard, what is your role in this melee of crises?”

  Below Jacob the Marine leader stood stiff and formal. “I am adding my endorsement to the retention of Acting Captain Renselaer to remain in command of the Lepanto and of this battle group. He has acted with daring, with deadliness and with concern for the survival of all members of this battle group. Billy, he’s faced the elephant. And he’s still in one piece. Ignore Bannerjee. Keep Renselaer. He’s a chip off the block of his father.”

  Jacob wondered what Billy O’Sullivan would now do. It was a surprise to learn that Richard knew this captain in charge of an out of the way colony outpost. Alicia’s support was a known. Richard’s support was a welcome surprise. Whatever happened next, he could accept knowing that two people far more experienced than he had stood by him.

  O’Sullivan bit his lower lip. “What of the other acting ship captains? Do they support him? And are you saying I should accept these field promotions for the battle group ships?”

  Richard chuckled. “You’ve had tough assignments before. You ran the occupying force on Callisto, after the rebellion. Then you volunteered for the Star Navy base on our first star colony. Now, here you are in charge of our farthest out colony.” The Marine paused, then lifted a hand and pointed a finger at O’Sullivan. “You are a Command officer. You have the rank to regularize this situation. And son, we need to get this sorted out before those yellow flying fuckers arrive here! They are deadly and the colony below your base has 70,000 plus folks in it.”

  O’Sullivan straightened his posture. Decision shown in his face. “Acting Captain Renselaer, I knew your father. I respected his actions in the Callisto Conflict. I never served under him. Nor would I make a decision just because you are his son,” the man said, his tone thoughtful and measured. “But I did serve under Chief Warrant Officer 5 Richard O’Connor. I do not need to hear from the other ship captains. If Richard supports you, and most of your deck chiefs support you, then that’s that.” The man reached down and tapped a spot on the com panel. The ensign sitting below him looked surprised. “Today, September 10, 2091, at 14:02 Earth time, I hereby endorse the field promotion of Ensign Jacob Renselaer to be Captain of the Battlestar Lepanto. I also endorse his continued command of the battle group that is engaged in mission Operation StarFight.” He paused and met Jacob’s gaze directly. “Captain Renselaer, what do we need to do to protect this colony?”

  Jacob felt relief. Then a sense of urgency. “We need to alert Earth to the threat from these aliens, to the fact of their existence and to the battle group’s need for a supporting force here at Kepler 10. To do that I propose sending our frigate Ofira off to Earth now, before the aliens arrive and can track her vector line. Do you have a better plan?”

  O’Sullivan blinked. “Now I see why Richard is sitting there on your Bridge, next to your new XO and to Lieutenant Branstead. You are not afraid to ask for help from those with more knowledge than you possess.” He paused. “I support the sending of a frigate to Earth. I would send our base frigate Aldertag, but it would take 50 hours for her to reach the system’s magnetosphere. You are already there. Your frigate can leave now, before the enemy arrives. Do as you propose. I will send the Aldertag out to you to join your formation. Its captain is Joan Sunderland. She has combat experience.”

  “Captain, thank you,” Jacob said. “I will send off the Ofira now. Then our battle group will head inward. If we are lucky, we can join with Aldertag and set up a defense for the colony.” A thought hit him. “You may wish to alert the civilians to head for shelters, if they have any. These aliens have mobile atomic bombs, but no thermonukes. Still, their plasma lightning weapon zapped the meeting site pretty badly. A few atomics hitting the colony towns and port city could be disastrous.”

  O’Sullivan’s face became grim. “Will do. You do your best to hold them off. The Aldertag should join you within twenty hours or so, perhaps out by planet six. Our small gas giant. Good luck.”

  “The same to you,” Jacob said, his mind swirling with options, plans and hopes.

  “Jacob,” called Daisy from below. “You can do this. We can do this. And we outnumber them nine to six. Believe in our people.”

  Jacob did believe in everyone on the Lepanto and on the other ships. The issue was not that. The issue for him was whether new ghosts would join those of the Britain.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Daisy felt relief as the conversation with O’Sullivan ended. Jacob was still the captain. She was still his XO. And their togetherness would have time to grow. Maybe. Who knew what would happen when the wasp ships showed up? Would they attack the battle group? Would they attack the colony world? Or would they see the occupied system and leave, figuring there was no point in further combat? She shook her head. Her academy training told her to put aside the personal and focus intently on the professional. Her duty. Their ship. The enemy.

  “Captain Mansour, respond,” Jacob said.

  The front wallscreen shimmered. In the place where O’Sullivan’s image had been there now appeared a new image. It was the face and shoulders of Lieutenant Arman Mansour, formerly the chief of Supplies Deck on the Ofira. Now its acting captain since he had been the one to force open the dead captain’s safe and locate the ship status change code. The man’s brown face and hawk-like eyes fixed on them.

  “Mansour reporting, Captain Renselaer. Congratulations and when do you want my ship to leave for Earth?”

  “Very soon,” Jacob said. Behind her she heard him tapping on his seat. “I’m sending you a complete vidcom record of everything that happened in Kepler 22, including our battles, the aliens at the meeting site, everything recorded by any of us. Take that record to Earth. Share it with Earth Command.” Jacob paused. She heard him take a deep breath. “And tell them I request combat assistance. Holding Kepler 10 is our duty, but if more wasp ships arrive than the six that followed us, we will need more fighting ships to keep possession of our colony on planet four.”

  Mansour’s black eyebrows lifted. Then he nodded. “Understood. The record has been received. Anything I can help you with before I leave?”

  “No,” Jacob said. “Your ship was outstanding in its targeting of enemy ships and in our formation maneuvers. But the Ofira is vulnerable to concentrated enemy beams. You will serve the battle group best by getting to Earth and getting Earth Command to send us some support. Reverse course and make your Alcubierre transition as soon as you can.”

  Mansour gave them a thumbs-up. “Reversing course. We will go Alcubierre within twelve minutes. Ofira out.”

  The Bridge was quiet. After the encounter with O’Sullivan, the actions of Alicia and Richard, and Jacob’s words now to dispatch the Ofira, she wondered if everyone else felt as tense as she did. What new surprise might show up?

  “All battle group ships, head for planet four,” Jacob said calmly. “Navigation, set a vector track for planet four. Engines, move us up to one tenth of lightspeed. Let’s get the hell away from this barren sp
ace!”

  “Vector set.”

  “Firing our three main thrusters.”

  Daisy watched as Louise and Akira did their jobs well and quickly. Her situational holo showed that the other ships had moved into the Alpha Hammerhead formation during Jacob’s talk with the Star Navy captain. They began to speed up even as the icon that was the Lepanto swung its nose slightly and then accelerated. She felt nothing, thanks to the inertial damper field that covered the ship. But her heart beat too fast, a chill ran down her back and her breathing quickened.

  They were headed for the fourth of seven planets, an Earth-like world. She recalled the system’s layout from her study of it during the transit. Planet one was a super-Mercury clone that was tidally locked to the star. It orbited the star in less than a day. Planet two was a super-Venus world, with a mass of 15 Earths and a width nearly three times that of her home world. It orbited in 45 days. She recalled that the large amount of water on that world was supposed to be in a state called ‘hot ice’ phases. Whatever that meant. Both the inner planets were too big, too hot and with too high a gravity for humans. Planet three, though, orbited just inside the star’s liquid water zone at one-half AU. It was a Mars size rocky world with plenty of air, a few seas, lots of jungles and a half-gee gravity. Humans could live there, though it had a high oxy level in the air. Better was planet four, an Earth clone with green forests, large oceans, tall mountains and a gravity of nine-tenths gee. It orbited at seven-tenths AU out from the yellow star that was somewhat cooler than Sol. Beyond four was planet five, another Mars size world that had a thinner atmosphere, some lakes, some green zones and not much else. It lay at 1.1 AU, at the outer edge of the star’s water zone. Planet six was a Uranus-like small gas giant lying at five AU out, while planet seven was a Pluto-like ice ball of frozen nitrogen and methane at 19 AU. Beyond those worlds, at 35 AU, began a Kuiper Belt zone of comets that reached out to the system’s magnetosphere boundary at 45 AU. Which made their transit inward a 52 hour journey. If they didn’t have to stop and fight off invading wasp ships!

  “All personnel,” called Jacob. “The ship remains at Alert Combat Ready. However, deck chiefs may release ten percent of their crews for relief breaks, some food, whatever they can do in an hour. Rotate breaks among your staff. Captain out.”

  “Captain,” called Andrew from Communications. “I have an incoming signal from Lieutenant Jefferson of the Philippines Sea. Will you accept it?”

  “Of course,” Jacob said quickly. “Put the signal up on the wallscreen and continue to share what happens here with everyone on the ship by way of our All Ship vidcom.”

  “Signal goes up. Vidcom continues active.”

  Daisy looked ahead. The middle of the front wallscreen suddenly filled with the youthful face of Joy Jefferson, a trim blond Daisy only knew from the all captains conference call during Alcubierre transit, and from brief contacts during the battles. The woman sat in the captain’s seat on the Bridge of her destroyer. Next to her in the XO seat sat a middle-aged man who resembled the Navajo men she had seen during a visit to their reservation. His face brought up memories. It had been winter break time and she had joined a tour group of other cadets. The round hogans occupied by traditional Navajos had been interesting, while their side trip to visit the mesas where the Hopi people lived in multi-story pueblos had been even more fascinating. She’d learned a bit of Southwest history from the perspective of its original inhabitants, seen a ritual Hopi dance from a distance, and now here was a Navajo in space. Clearly he was an academy graduate like her.

  “Captain Renselaer, my ship is in the middle of this formation,” Jefferson said, her voice sounding tense. “If the enemy appears behind us, that will leave the frigates exposed. I request permission to move the Philippines Sea to Tail End Charlie position. My CO2 lasers on our stern can discourage any close approach by the wasps.”

  Why was Jefferson seeking a change in the formation? Daisy thought the Hammerhead formation made sense. And their ship arrangement could shift rearward in a matter of minutes. So having a destroyer at the rear did not make sense.

  Jacob chuckled. “Lieutenant, I’ve read your file. You like to pursue the enemy and cook their butts. That is a good attitude in my book. Sure, move back to provide cover to the frigates. Though I think St. Mihiel and Marianas might dispute who among you is the deadliest!”

  Jefferson smiled, then shook her head, which caused her ponytail to swing back and forth. She might be encased in her vacsuit, but Daisy had the impression the woman was ready to jump out of it and bite the butt off of anyone who got in her way. If her crew was as battle hungry as she was, perhaps it would be very good to have her on their tail.

  “And I’ve read the public record on you, your father and your time at the academy,” the woman said, amusement filling her face. “Did you really put a cactus pad under the saddle of the horse your father was going to ride during Binghampton’s Pioneer Days?”

  Daisy bit her lip to keep from laughing. The image was just too precious.

  “No truth to that rumor whatsoever!” Jacob said quickly. But he sounded amused. “My father was in ready reserve retirement at the time. I save such surprises for active duty officers.”

  Everyone on the Bridge laughed or chuckled or snorted. Including Daisy.

  Jefferson smiled. “I will remember that. Be warned, I always check any seat I choose to occupy. Philippines Sea out.”

  Her image disappeared from the wallscreen. None of the other battle group captains showed up. She missed Rebecca Swanson on the Chesapeake. She was a no-nonsense woman like Daisy’s mom and ran her heavy cruiser with a stern grip. Or so she had heard from some of the old hands on the Lepanto. The woman had kept her cruiser in the thick of the two battles, accepting damage as readily as Jacob accepted it. If the wasps really did come to Kepler 10, she was glad Swanson was going to be one of the strong ship leaders that Jacob could rely on. She switched her attention to the situational holo. On it a new ship icon appeared, heading outward from planet four. Time to do her XO work.

  “Captain, the Aldertag is heading our way,” she said quickly before Rosemary or someone else could speak.

  “So I see,” Jacob said. “Do you wish to take an hour off?”

  Daisy doubted the wasps would appear in the next hour. “Yes. Can I bring you a snack from the Mess Hall?” She turned around and looked up to the young man who was now her lover.

  He smiled, then gave her a wink. “Sure. Bring me a sandwich and ice tea. I feel comfortable up here. Time for the rest of the Bridge crew to get some break time.”

  She smiled back. “Heard and understood. I’ll be back sooner than an hour with your snack and drink.”

  Daisy unsnapped her seat straps, stood up and headed for the rear exit door. She waved at Lori and Carlos, who had been sharing a tablet and looking at something. The two smiled at her and waved back. She kept on going, out the slidedoor, then down the silent empty hallway. The empty hall reminded her of the other night when she had invited Jacob into her quarters for a glass of red wine. They had quickly moved beyond sharing drinks and smiles and kisses. Soon they were naked atop her bed. She cherished the memory of Jacob’s caresses, his soft kissing, his taking the time for her to match his arousal. Joining together several times over the next hour had been wonderful. Waking up beside him the next morning had been just as good. She could even forgive him for the time he took to carefully shave and make a production out of combing his hair. Better to have a man who liked to be clean and spiffy rather than a man who left a mess behind, expecting the woman to clean up. Jacob was not that way. And she had found he could cook a decent breakfast al fresco. That had been a talent he’d learned from his mom, he’d told her. Now, she wished the woman was still alive so she could meet her. But she wasn’t. However, Daisy’s mom was alive. And whenever they returned to Earth, the battle group would likely pass by Pluto. She looked forward to introducing Jacob to her mom.

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  Hunt
er One observed the forward perception imager as its depiction changed from gray to the black of cold dark space. A yellow sky light filled the middle of the imager, while more distant sky lights blazed with colors across the range of light that Swarmers could see. He didn’t care that some sky lights were only visible at the dark red end of viewing. Which he could not see. There were plenty of white-yellow sky lights, the kind of sky light around which his world of Nest now flew. While Swarmers could survive on the world of Warmth, which was cooler than Nest, the presence of a yellow sky light limited the growth of their green bark trees. The purple leaves of those trees were stunted compared to the originals on Nest. Still, it was their tenth colony world. The Swarm had expanded its life zone. He focused his three small eyes on the details in another imager.

  “Alarm!” scent cast the elder female Servant in charge of monitoring external space. “The Soft Skin flying nests are here! Eight of them take flight. They wing toward the fourth world.”

  The female’s scent was filled with trail, territorial and aggregation pheromones, clearly signaling her desire for the Swarm to pursue and kill the fleeing Soft Skins. Soon enough that would happen. He noticed something about the fourth world. “Servant, are those propulsion emissions coming from just above the fourth world? And also from the surface of the world?”

  “You see clearly, my leader,” she scent cast with a hint of embarrassment. “The radiative emissions are similar to what our propulsive device and our energy nodes emit. That is either a flying nest above that world, or a nest in permanent flight, like those above Nest,” she said. She fluttered her brown wings. “The presence of such emissions on the land of the world suggest there is a Soft Skin colony on that world.”

  Hunter understood that. But his view of another imager that gave details on each of the seven worlds that flew about the yellow sky light caused him puzzlement. “Servant for aberrant behaviors, our tools say the fourth world has a pull down strength twice that of Nest. Why would any Soft Skin live there?”