Gants chuckled. “I don’t think the council has the funds to spare for a battleship anyway.” He sounded slightly disappointed, but Tamara could tell that he wasn’t all that surprised by his own statement. Obviously, he, like many of the military people in this system, had given that topic a good deal of previous thought.
“So, what do you think, Colonel?” Tamara asked, after giving him another couple of minutes of silence to consider it all. “Would you be interested?”
He looked up at her and gave her a withering look. “Samair, I appreciate your position, as well as your skills and abilities. But clearly, you need work in the ability to read people. Of course I’m interested. The Seylonique Navy could use at least one other cruiser, especially since the pirates will eventually be back. We know they already have three cruisers, one of them bigger and badder than the one you based this on.” He gestured to the image on the display. “Maybe we’ll get lucky enough to be able to go on the offensive, root them out in their own lair.”
“And to do that, you’d need ships heavier than a destroyer to really do the job.”
“In the short time you and your company have been here in Seylonique, we’ve seen more activity and change than in the last fifty years,” Gants pointed out. He patted the desk lovingly with one hand. “My girl here is back up to fighting strength and we’ve actually got something that one could actually call a proper navy. It’s small, sure, but it’s better than the one-ship fleet we had before. And with this strength that we’re building here, we’re going to draw more attention to ourselves. So I would like a bruiser that could watch my back while Leytonstone drives off Verrikoth and his followers the next time.”
Tamara nodded, holding her excitement down. “It sounds like you’re making a good amount of my arguments for me, Colonel. So you will speak to the council and see if you can get them to sign off on contracting First Principles to build one for them?”
“I’ll speak with them,” Gants replied, his voice serious. “Once you get started, how long of a construction time are we looking at?”
She pursed her lips, looking away. She consulted some information on her HUD as well as gathering her thoughts based on her own knowledge and experience. “Well, it’ll be a while. We’re not set up to build this size of ship. Everything we’ve actually built has been destroyer-sized and smaller. Getting retooled will take probably three weeks or so. I’m not going to start doing that until I have a contract. After that, we’re probably looking at a year, possibly as short as ten or eleven months.”
“I see. Then I should think it was imperative to get your people started as soon as possible.”
“That much is true, Colonel.”
The colonel considered her for a long moment. “How long would it take for you to get a contract together, assuming I can get you funding?”
“I’ll send a message to Apogee and the Legal department back on the shipyard,” Tamara said. “I’ve got one drawn up already, but they’ll need to throw some polish on it. Say an hour at most for that. Then have them send it back, and get the council to sign off on it. I suspect that last part is what is going to take the most amount of time.”
He grimaced and then nodded. “I’m going to contact the admin council right now and see if we can get things started here. Could I prevail upon you to stay aboard the Leytonstone while I get a response from them? If at all possible, I’d like to try and get this resolved today.”
Tamara nodded. “Of course, Colonel. Would it be possible for me to get a tour? I’ve been aboard this ship before, of course, but I’ve never actually gotten to take a proper look around.”
“She was laid up in your shipyard for months, Samair.” He looked incredulous at her request.
“Yes, she was,” she said. “But other than the one time I came aboard for that wargame simulation, I didn’t come aboard. And I didn’t go wandering around, sightseeing. Ms. Sterling was running the show and I didn’t want to joggle her elbow.”
“Are you expecting me to show you around?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Colonel, I used to be in the Republic Navy, as you know. As such, I’m well aware of the normal workload you carry on a normal day aboard ship, to say nothing of an unpleasant conversation that you’re going to be having with a bunch of politicians who don’t want to open up the purse again.”
“Stars-damned right about that,” he grumbled.
“So I wouldn’t expect, or frankly, want you to be showing me around. You’d be constantly hurrying me or checking your watch. I’m sure there’s some ensign or lieutenant that you can pawn me off on. It gets me out of your hair for a couple of hours, giving you the time you need to do what needs to be done.”
“Give my new public affairs officer something to do, aside from write up reports and training manuals, I suppose,” Gants mused. “All right. I’ll authorize a tour, but there are going to be places that I’m keeping you out of.”
She shrugged. “That’s fine. I wasn’t really expecting full, unrestricted access anyway. If you could summon the officer and we’ll get going? I know you’re busy.”
He couldn’t help it. He chuckled, which turned into a laugh. Then he pressed a control on his desk and ordered Ensign Sims down to the ready room to take his… guest and her entourage on the five-credit tour of the ship.
“Sir, I’ve been monitoring all shipping in this area,” Bek reported. “It’s increased somewhat from the last time we were here. Of course, we’re also in a different part of the system.”
“Yes,” the General replied. “We’re much farther into the system proper. We’re only a couple of light minutes from their habitable planet. Hopefully we’ll find the battlecruiser soon. I don’t want to have to keep going back and forth along this system looking for it. The likelihood of detection will only increase.” He doubted that this Republic style ship could truly stand up in a proper fight, though he did admit that it was nice to be in a ship that wasn’t quite so… patched. Illuyanka was still a fine ship, even after all these years, but it was obvious that the old girl needed some serious work done. Being aboard this brand-new ship made him appreciate a vessel where everything worked as it was supposed to. They didn’t have to jury rig things, or find new and innovative ways to get a “good enough” level of performance out of raggety systems. He vowed to himself that his flagship would be getting that overhaul, with proper replacement parts. He shook his head and brought himself out of his musings.
“I’ve detected two other warships in the area, sir,” the tactical officer stated. “One of them looks like a corvette, the other a slightly larger warship. Could be a frigate, sir. I’ve never seen a configuration like that before.”
“Is it in the database?” Typhon asked.
The wolf’s back fur rippled and he flattened his ears to his head in embarrassment. “Checking now, sir. Found it. It’s an Arundel-class frigate, beacon ID reads as the SSN Lavinia.”
Typhon shook his head. “Interesting, but that’s not the one we’re here for. Keep a track on it, and let me know if it does anything of concern, but otherwise, get back to looking out for the battlecruiser. We only have one chance to do this.”
“Yes, General.”
It was another three hours of ballistic travel, with the occasional course correction puff on the thrusters for the Equinox to find her target. Two close calls from a pair of corvettes and a stoic silence to a civilian freighter heading toward the planet, but they made it. “Got it, sir. Bearing two-two-zero, mark six-one-five. Distance, five hundred, fifty-six thousand units.”
Typhon beamed. “Excellent. Sound general quarters, set Condition One throughout the ship. Tell Colonel Arn he’d better be ready once we’re in range, which should be shortly.”
“Understood, sir.”
The general checked the sensor readings and his ears flicked. It was a big bastard, certainly by the standards of warships he’d grown accustomed to seeing out here in the Argos Cluster. Compared to some of the warships he�
��d seen back in the Federation or even behind the lines during the war, it was slightly below average. Of course, from what he’d been able to glean from the destroyer’s databanks, info taken from “interviewed” captives and now from this ship’s own sensors, the battlecruiser wasn’t a top of the line warship from a major power. Oh, out here in the backwater it was certainly the power in space. But if this ship squared off against a vessel of the same weight class back home, with commanders of similar tactical ability? This ship, this Leytonstone would get its throat torn out. Of course, only the best back home got to be battlecruiser skippers and a good fraction of those were lupusan. If a lowly human was in charge, well, the outcome was a foregone conclusion. It was time the locals learned that a lupusan, especially a renegade one, was the most dangerous being that they would ever come across; a bug in a big ship be damned.
“Helm, bring us to a stop, slowly,” he said sharply. “We’re already way too far into this system with no support. Have we been detected?”
“Not that I’ve seen so far, General,” Bek replied, his eyes never moving from the displays. “We’ve got our power signature as low as it can go. As long as one of them doesn’t get too close on their own, we should be all right. It would certainly be interesting to fight them using this ship’s weapons. Never fought using Republic gear before.”
“Don’t go getting too eager, Bek,” Typhon admonished. He started to speak and then he laughed. “I was about to chastise you about getting too eager to fight everyone in this system. That we are here for a very specific mission, a very specific target, we’re not here to fight the whole system’s Navy and capture the system.” He got a dark smile on his face. “I’m suddenly hearing the voice of that… bug… in my head.” He paused and mused about that for a long moment and no one on the bridge spoke or interrupted him. He blinked and bared his teeth. “And I find that I do not like it. Bek.”
“No, sir, I tend to agree, sir.” The wolf did not look at his commander, he kept his gaze laser-focused on the display.
Typhon glared over at him. “What? Oh. No, not that. When the Colonel sets this whole thing off, the locals are going to be screaming around looking for a target. And I do not want to be caught by these provincials when it is time to leave. So make sure that you’ve plotted escape vectors to get us out of the system; I don’t care which way so long as we can get out. We can recalculate a hyperspace vector later.”
“Understood, sir.”
He pressed a control. “Arn, this is the General. Report your status.”
The colonel’s voice came back, strong and confident. “We’re all ready down here, General. We’re ready to launch as soon as we get the green light.” Arn’s voice was different than most lupusan. Whereas the stereotypical male lupusan’s voice was deep, bassy and powerful, Arn’s was not. Oh, he projected power, but due to a childhood defect, medical repair and then a poorly treated wound to his throat years before, the colonel’s voice rarely lifted above a whisper. Most of the time, his voice was raspy and hoarse, though he never had any trouble in making himself heard, even over a near-deafening battlefield.
“You’ll have it in about forty seconds.”
“Ready to go, sir,” Arn said. “Just keep the back door open for us, General.”
“Will do, Colonel.” He was about to sign off, when Typhon stopped. “Oh, and Colonel?”
“Sir?”
“Teach these provincials why they should fear the night. Where are we going, Colonel?”
He could hear the smile in the other wolf’s voice. “Seylonique, sir.” And then he signed off.
~~~~~~*~~~~~~
Colonel Arn turned to his wolves aboard the assault shuttle. He linked in with the other four shuttles, making sure that all of them could hear him. “We launch in twenty seconds!” he rasped, making sure that his voice carried over the comms. “General Typhon has only one question for all of you. Where are we going?”
There was a pause for half a heartbeat, then the troops and crews aboard all five of the shuttles erupted in the shout, “SEYLONIQUE!” Booted feet and rifle butts thumped on the deck. They held the shout until they ran out of breath and then they all began a long howl.
“You’re ready,” Arn said when their joy settled down. He’d given the order to launch a full minute earlier and the five ships accelerated ahead under thrusters only. The shuttles raced away, their stealth settings on their hull plates at full, and their power levels as close to zero as possible. Another three hours and they’d be within range.
And then the fun begins.
“How are the reactors holding up, Chief?” Tamara asked, after ducking under a conduit housing.
“They’re holding up well, Ma’am,” the battlecruiser’s chief engineer replied politely. “Even after the crappy coolant pipe failed, we never had any problems with the gear your company provided.”
“I’m glad to hear that,” she said, running checking over seals and welds, running the optic information through her scanners in her implants. There were no faults or cracks that she could detect. “And how’s she running so far?”
“The reactors or the ship, Ma’am?” the engineer replied, sounding as though he was trying very hard to stay patient. There was a civilian crawling around in his engine room and he’d been order to show her every courtesy, short of letting her get into the systems herself. He had not been ordered to be happy about it, nor could he actually be if he was ordered.
Tamara turned, a smirk on her lips. “Both, I suppose. But by the look on your face, I’d say you clearly have a problem with me.”
The man put a rigid smile on his face, one so tight, Tamara was convinced that if he blinked, his face would shatter. “Oh, no, Ma’am. I don’t have a problem with you. Without you and your people and your replicators, this old girl would still be dead in space, tied up to the orbital.”
Tamara looked at him for a long moment. “I see. Well, I’m glad that Captain Eamonn and I got here when we did. It’s always nice to get such a warm welcome from potential customers.” She kept her own face friendly, but her she knew her voice carried a tinge of irritation.
“Glad to oblige, Ma’am,” the man replied, not giving an inch. “Did you see everything you needed?”
Clearly, the tour in the reactor room was over. “Well, I think there’s not much else here,” Tamara admitted. “I thank you for indulging me, Chief. I appreciate a chance to get a look under the hood, as it were.”
The engineer nodded. “Of course, Ma’am.” He gestured toward the door. “If you’ll just step this way?”
Calvin gave a murmur of annoyance. The wolves exchanged glances, but didn’t otherwise say anything. They were doing a decent job of staying blank, stony faced guards, as invisible as it was possible for a group of lupusan to be. One of the Navy techs tried to elbow his way past Kayla, who turned and stared at him, baring a bit of fang at him. The man blanched and immediately backed off, working his way around the group in the room from another direction.
The chief scowled at seeing this, but he didn’t say anything. Tamara saw his expression and sighed. “All right, let’s get going. Ensign Sims?” she said, addressing the young blonde woman.
The slightly jittery woman, who was doing her best to present a face of calm professionalism, nodded. She was doing a decent job of keeping this VIP and her heavily-armed bodyguards moving throughout the ship. Tamara Samair wasn’t someone she’d ever expected to meet, much less work in such close quarters with.
“Ensign, if could lead us back to the conference room? I think its time I let these good sailors get back to work.”
The slightly flustered junior officer nodded and her face settled back into a professional mask. “Of course, ma’am. If you all will follow me?”
Tamara glanced to her guards and at a grunt from the serzhant, they all started off after the young ensign. She happened to notice the techs and the chief engineer grumbling to themselves as she walked out, no doubt something insulting or disparagin
g. She just smiled and shook her head.
Arriving back at the main conference room a short time later, the guards were comming back and forth to one another Tamara was tapped in to the conversation and could see it as scrolling text on the upper left corner of her HUD. Mostly the guards were marveling and complaining about the size, composition and crew complement of the ship. Viktoriya, Tamara noted, was allowing the grumbling to continue, though she noticed all of them were mapping out routes through the ship. Smart. She linked her own implants to continue the mapping and get the info they had already accumulated. It wasn’t a comprehensive map, not by any means, but they had traversed a decent fraction of the ship and now knew at least the main routes through it. Tamara could get blueprints from Moxie-2 if they were needed but she secretly hoped they would be.
Returning to the conference room, Sims led them inside. A zheen with lieutenant’s bars on his tunic was seated at the table waiting for them. He rose as they entered. “Thank you, Ensign. Why don’t you head to the mess and get a cup of tea?”
Sims didn’t look happy with the idea of shirking what she believed was her duty, but the Lieutenant was a superior officer. She straightened to attention, looking straight ahead. To Tamara’s wry amusement, Sims stated “Aye, aye, sir,” extended a crisp about face and marched out of the room. The guards made no comment, even over the comms. Apparently, this level of military formality was commonplace in the Seylonique armed forces.
“Good afternoon, Lieutenant,” Tamara said, moving to the small table to the side of the room where sat a coffee pot and a rack of mugs. Tamara helped herself to one, pouring the dark brown liquid from the pot. It had an oily sheen on the surface and after a tentative sip, tasted bitter. Obviously, the Colonel’s steward Perkins didn’t make this. She sighed in mild dismay, but didn’t dump out the drink. Tamara took another sip and went to the table.
“Good afternoon, Ma’am,” the male zheen replied. “I am Lieutenant K’Vitch, with the Navy Public Affairs office.”
Tamara hid a sigh and put a professional smile on her face. “I see. And how can I, a lowly civilian, help out the Navy today?”
A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 Page 62
