by Dietmar Wehr
“Comp, is the LO on board yet?”
“Affirmative, the Logistics Officer is currently on deck two.”
Probably supervising the loading of supplies. That’s a good place for me to start, thought Drake.
Remington returned to her cell after the evening meal and saw a small piece of folded paper on her bunk. She picked it up as she sat down. When she unfolded it, she recognized Drake’s handwriting.
Just in case you’re no longer here when I get back, I want you to know that I believe our paths will cross again someday, somewhere. R
When she looked up she saw the Security Commander looking at her from outside her cell.
“Your boyfriend’s gone on a mission. I’m tempted to take advantage of his absence, but I won’t unless you cause trouble. You’re lucky he dropped that off on a day when I’m in a good mood, otherwise you would have never seen that note at all. Remember what I said.” Without waiting for a reply, he turned and walked away.
Chapter Nine
Day 149/2540
Stacker entered the Council Chamber and saw that Chenko was already there and seated at one of the tables in the front. Their eyes met briefly, and then the Navy Chief of Staff looked away. The lack of acknowledgement told Stacker that he was still in Chenko’s doghouse, but he didn’t care. He hadn’t risen to the one-star rank of Commodore on merit alone. Making and carefully cultivating political connections had been just as important, and a few of those political connections had been able to say the right things to some of the Council members. This was going to be an interesting session. He took a seat two rows back from where Chenko was sitting.
It was another half hour before the session started. Stacker waited patiently for the usual self-serving, introductory speeches to be over and then leaned forward as the Council started on their agenda. The first item was a report by the Navy Chief of Staff on the status of short and long-term plans to respond to the rebellion.
Chenko rose and cleared his throat. “Thank you, Mr. Chairman, for this opportunity to update the Council on our progress to date. I’ll start with the short-term and finish with a status report on the Master Plan that this Council approved several months ago. We are making good progress on vetting every officer and enlisted person in the Navy. We’ve already identified and discharged 556 individuals who failed the verifier tests and were therefore considered to be insufficiently committed to the principles and institutions that make up the Federation. As expected, this is causing some shortages of skills and experience, but we’re in the process of managing that. While not all of the discharged personnel came from one ship, total vetting losses among ships’ crews are equal to the equivalent of one cruiser complement. Once we’ve vetted crews from a few more ships, we’ll be in a better position to shift people around to fill the gaps. We can then start to send out fully-manned ships to visit planets that haven’t seen a Navy ship in a while. By showing the flag, so to speak, we—"
“I’m sorry to interrupt you, Admiral, but since you’ve brought up the subject of ships sitting idle at the Navy spaceport, this seems to be a good time to bring up another topic for discussion. How many cruisers are on Earth right now, Admiral?” asked the Chairman.
Chenko recovered from his surprise quickly. “At the moment we have three patrol-class cruisers here, sir.”
“And how many more would you expect to arrive over the next oh, say 20 days?”
Chenko frowned. He didn’t like where this was going. “Well, Mr. Chairman, as you know, we’re in the process of recalling all of our cruisers, but it’s difficult to know exactly where they all are at any given point in time. Therefore I can only give you an estimate that ranges from two to perhaps as many as four additional cruisers arriving over that time period.”
“So in three weeks you might have eight cruisers sitting on the ground. Is that right, Admiral?”
“That’s correct, sir. May I ask what—“
“I’m asking because the Council has heard that the Navy has been or is considering another strike mission against the Rebel government on Sparta with a minimum of eight cruisers. Is that the case?”
Stacker, you asshole. Chenko counted to five to calm down before answering. “We did examine that kind of mission, and we’ve determined that deploying half of our remaining cruiser strength on a mission for which they were not designed would be too risky, Mr. Chairman.”
“I see. Is that your personal opinion as well, Admiral?”
You bastard. You heard that I was initially in favor of that mission and now you’re going to use that against me.
“I was initially in favor of that mission, Mr. Chairman, but after listening to my planning staff’s carefully thought-out analysis, I became convinced that the potential gains are more than offset by the potential loses, both material and human, as well as by the indirect losses of more planets joining the rebellion if the mission should fail.”
“Tell me, Admiral. Was your planning staff unanimous in recommending against the mission?”
Chenko gritted his teeth. Where is he getting all this information? Is it all coming from Stacker? “No, sir. There were a couple of less experienced officers who were convinced that we should roll the dice, regardless of the consequences.”
“I see. I notice that you’re not the only flag officer in the room today, Admiral. Commodore Stacker, I’d like to hear your opinion of the eight-ship strike mission.”
Chenko kept his expression under tight control as he turned around to look at Stacker.
“I’m pleased to be able to answer that question, Mr. Chairman. In my opinion, while it’s unlikely that the strike force would not suffer any losses at all, I believe that the possibility of losing a significant percentage of the attacking force is equally unlikely.”
“Do you believe that the impact on the Rebellion of a successful mission justifies the expected level of casualties, Commodore?”
“Yes, sir, I do.”
“Would you have any reservations about leading that kind of mission yourself?”
“As long as I had complete freedom to conduct that mission as I saw fit, I would have no reservations or hesitation about leading the mission, Mr. Chairman.”
“Thank you, Commodore. Now, Admiral Chenko, in light of what we’ve just heard, do you still believe that this mission is unwise? If so, please justify that view.”
Chenko had seen enough Council sessions to recognize when the fix was in. If he stuck to his stance and the mission was a success, his credibility about future missions would be severely damaged. On the other hand, if he caved in and the mission suffered unacceptable losses, the Council would blame him for being indecisive.
“All other things being equal, Mr. Chairman, I’d rather that we didn’t conduct this kind of mission now. However, if the Council decides to instruct the Navy to carry out this kind of mission, then I could support that decision if the Mission Commander were given strict guidelines on how to conduct the mission. For example, if the Strike Force were ordered to stay outside the hyperzone, so that they could jump away if necessary, then unacceptable losses could be avoided. Furthermore…”
The session lasted another 90 minutes, and then the Council adjourned the public meeting in order to meet privately. When the public session was resumed after lunch, the Council announced its decision. Chenko noticed that the Chairman refused to look at him as he read from the document in front of him.
“After careful consideration, it is the unanimous opinion of this Council that the Navy should undertake a strike mission against Sparta as soon as eight patrol cruisers can be assembled and made ready. Furthermore, the Council has decided that this strike mission should be under the command of Commodore James Stacker, and that he should be given the widest possible leeway to achieve his mission objectives as he sees fit. Chief of Staff Admiral Chenko is hereby directed to make all necessary preparations in order for this mission to proceed as quickly as possible.” The Chairman looked up at Chenko. “Admiral, do you h
ave any comments for the record at this time?”
Chenko thought fast. This kind of micro-management by the Council, determining mission orders and choosing the Field Commander, was unheard of. If he let it pass, it would seriously undermine his authority as the Head of the Navy. The Council had carefully maneuvered the issue away from whether the attack was a good idea or not to who should lead it and what orders that person should be given. In point of fact, they had drawn a line in the sand and had dared him to cross it. He thought about General Trojan, Oracle and the Master Plan. That was the only way they were going to win this war and keep the Federation intact. Stacker was leading the Council down the wrong path for his own personal aggrandizement, and Chenko wanted nothing to do with that. There was no way he was going to be able to change the Council’s mind now. His choice was simple. Either acquiesce to the Council’s stupidity or cross the line. He made his decision.
“Mr. Chairman, members of the Council, it is my professional opinion that this decision to attack Sparta now, under the terms specified by the Council, is dangerous and ill-advised. I cannot in good conscience obey this directive, and therefore I will be submitting my resignation to the Council before the day is over.” He could see from the Council members’ expressions that they hadn’t expected that. The resulting confusion and hasty whispered consultations would have been comical if the situation hadn’t been so serious. Finally a grim-looking Chairman leaned forward and speared Chenko with his gaze.
“Speaking on behalf of myself and the other Council members, I find it regrettable, Admiral, that you have decided to withdraw your services at this crucial time, but if you submit your resignation, it WILL be accepted. The session is now adjourned.”
Chenko remained seated. He didn’t want to leave the room at the same time as the Council members. When they were all gone, he stood up to find Stacker standing beside him.
“They called your bluff,” said Stacker.
Chenko looked at him with as much contempt as he was able to show. “Aren’t you forgetting something, Commodore Stacker?”
Stacker sighed. “They called your bluff, SIR.”
Chenko smiled, but it wasn’t a friendly smile. “That’s better. You’re assuming I was bluffing. I wasn’t. This mission will end badly, but I won’t be around to be used as a scapegoat by the Council when they realize how you’ve led them down the primrose path. They’re going to be looking for someone to blame, and with me gone, guess who’ll be left, assuming you survive the mission, that is?”
Stacker shook his head. “They can’t blame me. I’m just following their orders.”
“What orders? They’re giving you eight cruisers and a goddamned blank check! If you fuck up, it’s all on you, Commodore.”
Stacker’s face became pale. “Well in that case, I’ll just have to make sure I don’t fuck up, won’t I, SIR?”
As Stacker turned and started walking away, Chenko said, “Oh yes, you will.”
As soon as he got back to his office, Chenko dictated his letter of resignation, making sure he spelled out the reasons why, and told his desk Comp to send it to the Council. Since the resignation became effective at midnight, he stayed until early evening dealing with time-urgent matters that couldn’t wait until his replacement was appointed. As he left his inner office, he saw Generals Masterson and Trojan standing in the outer office. It was obvious why they had come.
“I see the grapevine is working even faster than usual today,” said Chenko.
Masterson nodded. “General Trojan and I heard the news a few minutes ago. I have to say, Sergei, that was a gutsy move. I didn’t know you had balls that big.”
“Thanks, Frank. I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“So this new mission is going ahead then, Admiral?” asked Trojan.
“Afraid so, General, and after Stacker manages to lose most of his squadron, the Federation Navy will be down to less than half the fleet we had a few months ago. A dozen or so ships to try to hold the lid on over 500 colonized planets. Tell me something, General Trojan. Just how good will this new super-Oracle device really be? Can it still win the war after we shoot ourselves in the face?”
Trojan smiled. “Oh yes. Even if we didn’t bring the Franklin Tri-system on line for the mass production of ships, tanks, etc., we’d still win. Even if the Federation Navy were outnumbered, we’d STILL win! Majestic will be worth a hundred of the new battleships, all by itself.”
“Then thank God we’ll have it, and the SSU won’t,” said Chenko.
“Amen to that, Sergei,” said Masterson. After an awkward pause, he continued, “It’s too bad you won’t be around to see the huge buildup in the Fleet.”
Chenko laughed. “You’re forgetting something, Frank. I may have resigned as Navy Chief of Staff, but I haven’t resigned from the Navy. I’m sure the new NCoS will find something for me to do, so I’ll be around.” Turning to Trojan, Chenko said, “I am going to envy you, General Trojan. General Masterson and I and the rest of us here on Earth are going to watch from a distance as you get to run this war out there on the front lines. Hell, now that I think of it, maybe I can convince the new NCoS to let me out into the field too. I wouldn’t mind taking a crack at fleet command from the Bridge of a new battleship.” All three officers laughed. It sounded good, but Masterson and Trojan knew that was never going to happen. Trojan suspected that the Admiral knew it too. The two Army officers said good-bye and left.
Chenko watched them go. God, I hope Trojan’s right about that Majestic device. We’re going to need all the help we can get when Stacker screws the pooch. Too bad a lot of good men and women are going to pay for his mistakes.
Chapter Ten
Day 259/2540
Drake looked at the chronometer and saw that it was only nine minutes since the last time he had checked the time. The Bridge was quiet except for the occasional sounds made by the equipment. No one was talking either to each other or to anyone else on the ship. The tactical display was still empty of any ship traffic. Valley Forge had now been floating silently within Dresden’s hyper-zone for 69 days and 13 hours. The trip here from Sparta, plus the return trip, would total just over 110 days. That meant that he had less than 12 hours left in order to meet the return deadline of 180 days, and he had nothing to show for his efforts.
The Earth-based shipping companies were learning how to make their freighters more difficult to capture. They no longer transmitted their transponder IDs on the way out, nor did they use omni-directional radio or radar. Nothing that would give away their position to an SSU commerce raider drifting within a planet’s hyper-zone, just waiting for a ship to come within interception range. Drake had learned about these new tactics the hard way. During the past 69 days, half a dozen ships had arrived with their transponders on, knowing full well that incoming ships were safe because of the randomness of incoming trajectories. Trying to match speed and bearing quickly with a decelerating ship was next to impossible, unless both ships happened to be lined up just right. None of those six ships had been detected leaving, and by listening to spaceport chatter from the planet, it was obvious that those ships had left.
That meant Drake had to come up with a new tactic, and he had come up with one that should work. Unfortunately, it required Valley Forge being relatively close to the path of an outgoing freighter, and so far they hadn’t seen one.
Drake returned his attention to one of the smaller screens at his Command Station. The screen showed a three-dimensional chess board, with a game in progress. He was playing against the ship’s computer, and it was his turn. He was just about to announce his next move, when the tactical display pinged for attention. Looking up, he saw the display zoom in to the icon representing the Valley Forge. A new icon had just appeared. Valley Forge’s radar, which was pointed away from the planet to avoid giving the cruiser’s own position away, had picked up the freighter as that outbound ship passed the cruiser and moved into the expanding cone of radar energy. The freighter was already up t
o 352 kps. Valley Forge currently had a negligible velocity.
“Okay, Helm, get us moving at max accel. Weapons, standby,” said Drake. He waited to see what the freighter captain would do since his equipment would notify him that radar beams from a nearby source were bouncing off his hull. Would he try to veer off or run for the hyperzone boundary?
