Originally authorized to be a new class of twelve battleships, the Titan-class had been short-stopped by the Federation Assembly after only two were built. The Navy had received funds for ten battlecruisers and two carriers in exchange, though, so no one had complained too loudly. They had, however, ended up with a stockpile of battleship-grade positron lances they had no use for.
Clever people had found uses for them.
“The Gallants aren’t starships,” he explained. “They’re sublight guardships: two hundred thousand tons apiece, with one big and six small guns, backed by two capital ship missile launchers. And thanks to the some not-so-subtle bloody shirt waving when the design was finished, the facilities to mass produce them were completed six months ago.
“They cost half again as much as the same mass of starfighters, but can be crewed by retrained in-system spacers,” he concluded. “Between facilities in Castle and Coraline, the Alliance has eighty-seven of these nasty little buggers ready to go, and they’re all being staged through Castle.
“To help reinforce our allies, the Federation has also gathered every Cobra that’s been pulled out of Home Fleet’s carriers and the other core systems – roughly a thousand starfighters – and thrown them on the same transports, along with more missile launcher satellites than I thought we had.”
With a wave of his hand and a mental command, he switched the screen from the schematic of the Gallants to a floating image of six spherical freighters, each exactly five hundred meters in diameter.
“Given yesterday’s stunt by Walkingstick, High Command took a look at the convoy forming in Castle orbit this morning and had a collective panic attack over its lack of security,” Tobin noted dryly. “These six ships contain the defenses intended to cover three star systems against an attack like today's. For anyone wondering, that means those freighters and their cargo are worth, roughly, a third of Castle’s Gross System Product.”
“I take it we’re being assigned as their escort?” Roberts asked, the big Captain the first to break the silence as everyone regarded the six heavily laden starships.
“A bit of overkill, isn’t it?” Captain Aleppo asked quietly. The Trade Factor captain probably knew the value of the freighters even better than Tobin did – even forty years after the Factor had been born out of a mutual defense pact between corporate-owned planets, the Factor’s captains were expected to be very aware of the mercantile affairs of their nation.
“I would agree in principle,” Tobin admitted – he had, in fact, argued that point strenuously – “except that we are seeing seemingly random raids by task groups of two to four starships. If one of those jumped this convoy in an outer system and it only has a single cruiser for an escort… it would be an expensive oversight.”
He moved the ships to one end of the table, not-so-coincidentally hanging the hologram directly between Anders and Roberts. Above the other end, he lit up a map showing Alliance space, with Castle and three other systems highlighted.
“Since even such elevated individuals as I eventually shut up and follow orders,” he told his Captains with a grin, “we’re not going to waste too much time arguing over it. The convoy is hitting three systems and we’ll be accompanying them all the way.
“From Castle, we go to Amaranthe, then Dis, then Kematian.”
Looking at the stars, Tobin shivered slightly. Kematian and Dis were single-system members of the Alliance – small star nations with fleets of three starships apiece. Augmenting their defenses from Federation and Imperium resources would free up more of those ships for offensive operations – a win for all involved.
Amaranthe was a different story. They no longer had ships. Amaranthe had suffered badly in the last war, and both Castle and Coraline felt themselves obliged to make certain the battered people of that planet were safe.
Tobin found himself in full agreement on that point. He had, after all, been there.
Chapter 10
Castle System, Castle Federation
13:00 December 16, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-078 Avalon, Vice Admiral Tobin’s Office
Dimitri was in the middle of reviewing the files of the three women, two men, and one hermaphrodite – a common affectation among those who’d traveled further along the path once called ‘Transhuman’ than the rest of humanity – who commanded the six ships being entrusted to his protection when Judy Sanchez knocked on his office door and entered.
“Senior Fleet Commander Solace is here to see you, sir,” she told him crisply. “I setup the appointment with her as you requested.”
The Vice Admiral paused, regarding his Chief of Staff levelly. “I don’t recall requesting an appointment, Commander,” he said mildly.
“You said you wanted to get a feel for Roberts’ subordinates,” Sanchez replied cautiously. “Part of your concerns about his inexperience, sir.”
He paused. He really didn’t remember saying exactly that, and even if he had, it was quite a jump to go from that to setting up an appointment with his Flag Captain’s XO. He had, though, probably expressed some sentiment along those lines. It appeared he was going to need to be careful just what he suggested to his new Chief of Staff.
“Since she’s here, you may as well send her in,” Dimitri finally allowed. “Please make sure to run appointment requests through me first in future? Not every casual thought requires a formal meeting with the Admiral, after all,” he said gently.
“Of course, sir,” Sanchez said with a small, hopefully somewhat abashed, bow of her head. She stepped out and returned a moment later with the slimly elegant black woman who served as Dimitri’s flagship’s XO.
“Thank you, Commander Sanchez,” the Admiral told her. “If you can have a steward bring us coffee? Or would you prefer tea, Commander Solace?”
“Coffee is fine, sir,” Solace said primly. “Black, please.”
“Of course,” Senior Fleet Commander Sanchez agreed before bowing herself out of the Vice Admiral’s office.
Dimitri gestured for Solace to have a seat. After a moment’s hesitation, the Commander obeyed.
“Commander Sanchez wasn’t clear why you wanted to see me, sir,” she said after a moment. While Sanchez and Solace were both Senior Fleet Commanders, and Solace could certainly tell Sanchez to take a hike, she couldn’t do the same to the Admiral.
The steward thankfully arrived before Dimitri had to answer Solace’s implied question, delivering two cups, a carafe, and a small jar of the wildflower honey the Vice Admiral himself preferred. After the young man withdrew, Tobin picked up the cup – sweetened to the perfect level as the young man was one of the few carry-overs from Corona.
“May I be frank with you, Commander Solace?”
“You’re the Admiral, sir.”
Translation: I can’t tell you what to do, but this whole interview is making me uncomfortable. Solace communicated better with intonations on the word ‘sir’ than Dimitri had seen some people manage with hundred page essays.
“What is your impression of Captain Roberts?” Dimitri finally asked, figuring that cutting to the chase was probably easiest. “Having reviewed both of your records, well, it would appear that you are more qualified for his role than he is.”
“It is not my place to speak to my Captain’s qualifications, sir,” Solace told him, her voice calm.
“Commander, I’m not asking you to speak to his qualifications,” he replied. “Just… your impressions. I’ve been asked to take a Flag Captain who’s on his first major command. I am… concerned.”
Solace was quiet for a few moments. Dimitri couldn’t read her. He knew he wasn’t as intuitive as some other officers he’d served with, and for a moment he wished he had a little bit more of that gift. He could have just accidently offended one of his key officers.
“Sir, your question skirts the limits of what is appropriate to ask of an officer,” she said finally. “I understand your concern. I will admit to sharing it, as this is a powerful vessel,
an unusual first command.
“But while I may have concerns about Captain Roberts’ experience, I do not question his qualifications. Captain Kyle Roberts earned his planet winning a battle I do not believe another could have. He is a hero, and earned a command the hardest way possible.”
Dimitri smiled grimly. Apparently backbone wasn’t going to be in short supply aboard his flagship.
“All of that said, Commander,” he said quietly, “do you think he’s worthy of Avalon?”
“I don’t know if he’s worthy, Admiral,” Solace replied, “but I do know this: he’s earned the right to be judged for his actions and not your fears, sir.”
Dimitri raised his coffee cup in the ancient touché symbol. She had a point. There were those who blamed him for the extent of the losses at Midori – and his superiors judged him to have done the best he could. Roberts was owed a similar allowance.
“Thank you, Commander,” he told her. “Your sense of loyalty is appreciated – and I think you may be wiser than I. I appreciate your insight.”
She nodded stiffly.
“Is there anything else, Vice Admiral?” she asked. “If we are to leave with the convoy in seventeen hours, there are munitions and supplies we need from the surface. Captain Roberts and I are pulling together a list, but our time is limited.”
Dimitri gestured her out, and returned her salute crisply as the tall woman exited his office as stiffly as she’d entered.
The Vice Admiral shook his head. It was hard to be certain if Roberts had managed to inspire his XO’s loyalty in a week, or if Solace had had the stick inserted before she arrived. Either way, she was right. He shouldn’t be judging Captain Roberts based on fear, but on the man’s actions.
With a sigh, he glanced at the coffee tray. Shaking his head with a chuckle, he returned to his work.
Solace hadn’t even touched her coffee.
Chapter 11
Castle System, Castle Federation
19:00 December 17, 2735 Earth Standard Meridian Date/Time
DSC-078 Avalon, CAG’s Office
For a man used to riding fire at four or five hundred gravities, the current pace of the convoy was excruciating. While the capital ships of Battle Group Seventeen could maintain two hundred and thirty gravities or more, the civilian ships were uniformly rated for Tier One acceleration – barely sixty gravities.
At this pace, it was going to take most of a day to reach a space where the convoy could bring on their Alcubierre drives.
The only positive of the convoy’s lack of speed, in Michael Stanford’s considered opinion, was that since they were still in-system when his last note from Senior Fleet Commander Kelly Mason had told him she’d be going off duty. Of course, they were already far enough away to need to use the Q-Com, but the Navy had always been generous with access time outside of combat operations.
Entering his request into the system flipped the orientation of the array of quantum-entangled particles in the heart of the ship linked to a matching set of particles aboard the switchboard station orbiting Castle. The first signal sent was a routing instruction, and the station linked up that sub-set of Avalon’s entangled particles to another set, linked to a set of entangled particles aboard the cruiser Sunset. A reinvention of the ancient concept of the switchboard allowed the inherently two-point communication method of quantum entanglement to connect any points linked into the network.
The voluptuous blond woman who’d snuck into his heart on the old Avalon answered as soon as his call connected.
“Michael,” she greeted him with a smile. “How’s Avalon? The rumor mill had you in that whole mess at Gawain.”
Michael shook his head. Of course, that was going to be the first thing to come up.
“We were,” he admitted. “It was definitely a mess. None of our pilots were lost, though the Imperials took some hits. I can’t say much more, and you know it.”
“Fair enough, love,” she told him with a smile. “I’m glad you’re okay. Any chance of grabbing dinner before you guys ship out?”
A spike of disappointment hit Michael, and he sighed with a shake of his head.
“I see the rumor mill isn’t entirely perfect,” he observed. “We got ordered to escort a freighter convoy – urgent enough we aren’t even getting our fifth starship! We’re already shipping out.”
“Damn,” Kelly frowned. Her obvious disappointment, oddly enough, made Michael feel a bit better, and he smiled softly at her.
“We knew this was coming,” he reminded her. “We are at war, after all.”
“I hoped we’d both be assigned to Avalon,” she admitted. “But then it makes sense you’d get Kyle or me, not both.” She shook her head. “Solace left this ship in pristine condition. All I’m doing so far is following in her shoes – half the time, if I have a question, she has a note somewhere. The woman is brilliant.”
“So I should not try to sneak anything past her?” Michael asked brightly.
“If she missed it, Kyle wouldn’t,” Kelly pointed out. “Do try not to get yourself in too much trouble.”
“They sent me Rokos,” Avalon’s CAG replied. “If I get in any trouble, he’ll get me out of it.”
“Lucky you. Though we had some luck of our own – guess who our newest Flight Commander is?”
It took Michael a moment to think of who among the Flight Commanders they’d both worked with would make Kelly specifically call them out, and then he remembered a certain promotion.
“You got Williams?”
“We got Williams,” Mason confirmed. Flight Commander Michelle Williams had flown under Michael on Avalon and, among other duties and missions, had saved Kyle Roberts’ life. Michael figured he still owed the pilot for that.
“Did a certain Nurse-Lieutenant come along then?” Nurse-Lieutenant Angela Alverez, at Michael’s last contact with Williams, been the younger officer’s girlfriend.
“Nurse-Lieutenant Commander Alverez has apparently been sent back to school by the wisdom of the Navy,” his girlfriend replied. “Apparently, she came out of the drive failure bound and determined to upgrade herself to doctor. Not something the Navy pushes people to do, I don’t think, but no one is complaining either.”
“Good for her,” Stanford said cheerfully. “I guess you and Michelle can commiserate about being away from your lovers.” He paused. “In public, perhaps?”
Kelly just laughed at him. He gloried in that laugh and smiled cheerfully at her.
“Keep an eye on her for me, will you?” he finally asked. “I’ll admit to still feeling a bit paternal her way.”
“I will,” she promised. “You keep an eye on Roberts. I want to see both of you back here soon, you hear me, Vice Commodore?”
“Your wish is my command, Senior Fleet Commander.”
20:00 December 17, 2735 ESMDT
DSC-078 Avalon, Captain’s Office
“Master Chief, have a seat,” Kyle instructed his carrier’s senior non-commissioned officer as the woman entered his office. “With everything going on, we really haven’t had time to sit down and chat. Beer?”
“Sure,” Cardea Belmonte replied. The Bosun was a hefty woman rivaling Kyle’s height and width with pure white, short-cropped, hair. There was only one higher non-commissioned rank in the Castle Federation Space Navy, and Belmonte had been a Master Chief Petty Officer for twelve years.
He was lucky to have her, and gladly slid one of the beers from the mini-fridge he’d setup in his office across the desk as she took a seat. Belmonte, Marshall Hammond, and Peng Wa were the three senior NCO’s aboard the ship, and Belmonte was the only one he didn’t know well. He eyed her carefully as she opened the beer and leaned back.
“How are you finding Avalon so far, Bosun?” he asked.
“She’s a damned fine ship,” Belmonte replied. “You lucked out with Wong, I’d say – that man seems to have a gift for getting more out of everything than even I would expect.”
“He always did,” Kyle agreed
. “Without that man, I’m not sure we would have managed to fly the old Avalon home under her own power. He pulled a few miracles out for me on the old lady.”
“I was surprised they split the old crew up as much as they did,” the Bosun told him. “Rumor had the plan being to use them as cadre.”
“Timing was everything,” he admitted. “We decommissioned early, for obvious reasons, so that left her crew available at a point when Vice Admiral Kane needed people to back-fill holes on a dozen ships. I think Command also didn’t want both an inexperienced Captain and an inexperienced XO.”
He wouldn’t have explained that much to most NCOs, for obvious reasons, but as the Bosun Belmont was the Captain’s left hand as much as the XO was the right hand. The smallest thing could be relevant to her job.
“How’s morale?” he asked after taking another sip of his own beer. “Our response to that attack… we did everything right, but we still lost four ships.”
“Rumor spreads fast on a warship, Captain,” she replied dryly. “I doubt there’s anyone aboard who doesn’t know exactly how large a strip you ripped off the Lord Captain. That probably helped morale more than the Imperials’ screw-up hurt it.”
Kyle shook his head. “That’s really not something that should be common knowledge,” he observed.
“This is true,” Belmonte admitted. “I’ll admit it did enough for crew morale I didn’t look too hard into how it leaked.”
“Fair, I suppose,” he allowed. “While I think I will refrain from taking official notice, I would ask that you have a quiet word with the source. Leaking details of the Captains’ conferences isn’t something I can turn a blind eye to, Bosun. This was relatively minor, all things considered, but…”
Stellar Fox (Castle Federation Book 2) Page 8
