The Jovian Sweep (Asteroid Scrabble Book 1)

by Martin Bourne

Cromarty threw a glance at Prince. “That’s going to be a baptism of fire.”

  “We’ll just have to hope that enthusiasm can make up for lack of experience. If we have time we’ll disperse them amongst our existing squadrons.” A thought struck Courage. “What about the instructors? They’ll be very experienced.”

  Prince shook his head. “Yes sir, but the reason most instructors are instructors is that they can’t hack it as warriors anymore.”

  Courage wrinkled his face. “Link fatigue?”

  “With most of them, yes sir.”

  Courage sighed. “Alright. Commander Cromarty? Will you draft a personal signal to Belofte welcoming her to the Jovian fleet, saying what an honour it is, that I’m sure she will conduct herself in the best traditions of the Virtue Confederation navy, etc, etc. Fill in the necessary banalities as you see fit.”

  It was obvious Cromarty was working hard not to smile. “Yes sir.”

  “She’s to rendezvous with us at Ganymede with the utmost dispatch. Commander Prince? Draft a general signal to the fleet informing them that Tourmaline will no longer be joining us, but that Belofte will. Better make the signal ‘attention commanding officers only’, though I don’t suppose it will take the lower decks long to find out all about it.”

  Prince grinned. “No bets on that one sir.”

  Courage walked over to the Holotank and with a flick of a finger erased Tourmaline from its current position at Courage Asteroid. Then he plugged in the vidscroll and watched ruefully as an icon labelled Belofte was added. It pulsed at the Outreach proving grounds. He pressed the icon and the Depot Ship’s basic details scrolled down nearby. Another flick of his finger and a sub list of the war drone complement appeared. Why only four trooper squadrons and one reconnaissance squadron? Belofte was rated to carry six and three. Drilling down to the actual machines gave the answer. Two of Carousel class training drones, and three of trooper drones, one of each of class. A right mix. Every class would have different quirks and need its own spares and its own maintenance procedures. And there were all those cadets on board taking up space. No wonder her drone complement was so meagre. He would have to do something about that.

  He looked up to see Prince and Cromarty waiting expectantly. “That’s all for now. I will need to evaluate this change and alter our deployments in response. You two had better get some rest. You’re going to need it.”

  “Yes sir,” said Prince. He saluted and turned to go. Cromarty hung on.

  “Sir, can I ask if we will be altering the battle orders tomorrow?”

  “I don’t know yet. Probably.” He grimaced. “In fact, almost certainly.”

  “Sir, I know you don’t like to be told this, but you are already in considerable sleep debt.”

  “I know. I’ll be alright Commander.”

  Cromarty made no move.

  “Please Commander. I will be fine.”

  Cromarty looked uncertain, but eventually saluted. “Aye, aye, sir.”

  After shutting the door, he sighed and went to rinse his face. He took a long look in the mirror, noting the puffed up eyes and the dark rings ingrained under them. He staggered out. The bunk looked very inviting, the desk did not, but the desk was where he headed.

  Chapter 17.

  Light Depot Ship Belofte, Outreach Proving Grounds.

  Josie was running late when she reached the Dorm cluster, to find Celene and Marilyn standing by the door. They looked like she felt - dark lines etched under watering eyes. Marilyn was dabbing at the digital lock, getting the combination wrong over and over again. “We had to stay behind,” she explained. “Instructor Ferris didn’t like our link console stats and made us recalibrate every circuit.”

  Celene yawned hugely. “Come on Marilyn, get us in.”

  Josie had been with Dinjer at the drone repair bays and the hours had flown by. It had been interesting and even relaxing, in an odd way. It was only now that her body’s demands for relief from the concentration and physical effort of the day were kicking in. She leaned past Marilyn and punched in the correct code. Everyone stumbled in. Lilybeth was laid out on top of her bunk in some skimpy outfit that claimed to be night attire. She was lifting herself onto her elbows, obviously having just been woken. Celene gave her a casual wave and collapsed face first onto her own bunk.

  “And so, another wonderful day in the paradise known as the Courage Admiralty Depot Ship Belofte comes to an end,” said Marilyn as she wearily prized off her perscomp and tossed several vidscrolls into her locker.

  “Tough day?” yawned Lilybeth.

  “Aren’t they all?” replied Josie, sharing a grin. Without Constance’s influence the woman wasn’t at all bad.

  “It was an awful day,” elaborated Celene, her face partly buried. Her voice half muffled, she grumbled on. “Ferris is a tyrant. I don’t think I’ve ever been so tired! Isn’t there some kind of rule on how many double shifts you can do in a row?”

  “No more than three I think,” said Lilybeth.

  “Well, we’ve just finished our fourth,” said Marilyn.

  Celene managed to lift her head. “And there’s nothing decent to eat! If you can’t put up with the pre-prepared slag you’re stuck with anaemic salad, day in and day out. How can that be healthy? After a while grated carrot starts to, well, grate.”

  “You did try to eat a little sausage yesterday,” remarked Josie, helpfully.

  Celene collapsed back into her pillow. “Grough…don’t remind me. I think my stomach lining might never recover.”

  “It’s just a question of persistence Celene. You get used to them.”

  “You’re a masochist, Tallion,” said Lilybeth, as she eased herself beneath her sheets.

  “You have a tough day too Lilybeth?”

  “Yeah, I must have dropped off…I’m going to beat these two. My fifth double shift in a row starts in about…” she glanced at the wall chronometer “…four hours.”

  “That’s too much Lily,” said Marilyn.

  “I know, but it’s only for a little while longer.”

  “Well, at least we can rest now,” mumbled Celene.

  Naturally the door alarm immediately chimed.

  “Ignore it. It might go away,” said Celene sleepily.

  The door chimed again. Marilyn staggered over to answer it.

  “Bad move,” said Celene, eyes half-closed.

  Marilyn gave her a terrible look and deactivated the lock. The door opened and Packer slouched in. He looked maddeningly fresh and bright.

  “Hello ladies,” he said cheerily. “Curses, you’re all dressed.”

  “Ha, ha,” said Lilybeth, sitting up in her bed.

  Marilyn was less impressed. “What do you want Packer?”

  “Oh, nice to see you too Marilyn!”

  “Come on, what is it?”

  Packer adopted a theatrical air. “I wish for nothing more than the simple pleasure of a congenial conversation with four fine examples of modern Virtue Confederation womanhood.”

  Marilyn pressed her hand pressed against his chest and guided him backwards. “Get out Packer.”

  “Hold on, I got a serious question!”

  “Please Packer!” groaned Celene. “This cabin is set to Red Watch. It’s late for us.”

  “It’s for your benefit.”

  “I doubt that,” said Marilyn, pushing him towards the door.

  “No look, it’s about the duty rosters. Mine has been cancelled.”

  “What?” said Lilybeth.

  “My day is just beginning, cos I’m on Blue Watch. I just checked my perscomp, and my entire schedule for the day has been cancelled.”

  “Faulty perscomp?” asked Marilyn.

  “No I thought of that. I checked with Ben. His schedule has been scrubbed too.”

  That was the cue for a frenzied retrieval of perscomps. Even Marilyn was curious enough to stop trying to evict Packer and reach for her own wrist-mounted computer. Lilybeth overbalanced and fell off her bunk in scrambling for h
ers, giving split-second glimpses of several normally well-covered areas of her body. Packer’s eyes gleamed at the unexpected bounty.

  “He’s right,” said Celene after a while. “I had an action-packed day of safety courses lined up and they’re all marked ‘pending’ now.”

  “Mine have gone too,” said Lilybeth. “What’s going on?”

  Josie held her perscomp up. “My stage three Systems Engineering examination has been cancelled.”

  Celene jumped up from her bunk. “They cancelled your exam? Wow. I mean, I don’t mind missing a health and safety presentation guaranteed to cure insomnia, but scrubbing an exam? Has it been rescheduled?”

  Josie looked up. “It doesn't say so. It’s not the only one either. No dates on any of the last exams.”

  “But what about graduation?”

  Josie shook her head, fighting down a sickening feeling. Most of the rest of 502, including Celine, had finished their exams. If she didn’t complete hers, she wouldn’t graduate with the others and she would have no chance of getting an assignment with Celine.

  And she wouldn't be getting flight pay.

  “It’s probably just some glitch,” said Packer, in a way that suggested he didn't think it was. He tapped a bulkhead. “I mean, it’s not as if Belofte doesn’t have a problem every other day, is it? I just thought you gals might know what it was this time.”

  Celene placed an arm around Josie's shoulder. “You’ll be ok Jose. Anyway, this way you'll get more time to revise.”

  Josie smiled as bravely as she could. Then she felt a sudden, very faint but very familiar disorientation. It lasted a mere instant, and was so tiny a surge, so minor a movement, that it would be quite unnoticeable to anyone who hadn’t spent the last three weeks with Dinjer. Sitting at his feet had given her some small measure of his affiliation with Belofte, the vagaries of her engines and stabilisers. She disengaged from Celene and took two paces forward, her face high and alert, subconsciously checking the very feel of the ship.

  “What’s the matter?” asked Celene.

  “Did you notice that?”

  “Notice what?”

  “That wobble. There! Again!”

  The others looked blank. Celene looked worried. “Are you ok, Jose?”

  “We’re moving,” Josie announced.

  Packer grinned. “Well of course we are.”

  “No I mean we’re accelerating…and changing course. Rimwards and a positive declination too I think.”

  Everyone looked around. “How can you possibly know that?” asked Lilybeth.

  She didn't want to bring Dinjer into this. “Oh. Well. Advanced Systems Engineering.”

  Packer peered at her theatrically. “Wow, I’d have signed up for that if I'd known it gave you super powers!”

  Marilyn swatted him. Josie strained her every sense. There it was again - a tiny, almost imperceptible disorientation. And then there was a sudden much more powerful jolt, a floor rolling split second of motion.

  “Whoa!” said Packer. “I felt that!”

  “Yeah, me too,” said Lilybeth as she clambered out of her bunk. Packer stared intently, but she had taken care to tightly grip treacherous folds of clothing together.

  There was a ping from a perscomp. Everyone checked, but it was Packer who had the message.

  “Hutton is making a broadcast through the rec room vidscreens in ten minutes to explain what’s going on,” he said, scanning the message. “He’s doing repeats in eight and sixteen hours for the other watches.” He looked up. “That’s a particularly stupid thing to do.”

  “They’re just making sure everyone knows,” said Marilyn.

  “What, they think it won’t be all over the ship in ten minutes flat?”

  “Well, legally he probably has to.”

  Packer shrugged. “I suppose.”

  “Well I’m not waiting eight hours,” said Lilybeth, making for the door. “I don’t care how much I need to sleep.”

  “You might care about what you're wearing,” Josie pointed out.

  “Oooh yeah,” yelped Lilybeth. She scurried back to her bunk, pulled open an overhead locker and picked out some clothes. “Wait a few secs will you?”

  “We’ll be just outside…” began Marilyn, but Lilybeth had already whisked her nightgown over her head and was reaching for a top. At least she was facing away from them. Marilyn shooed a slack-jawed Packer out.

  Josie felt her cheeks reddening as they waited outside. Her cursed Callistoan upbringing again! Fortunately nobody made a comment – they were too concentrated on the upcoming broadcast – but she could see that Lilybeth’s actions were a little too much even for free-wheeling Couragers. All very odd!

  Lilybeth was quite unselfconscious when she joined them only a minute later, but Josie noticed her grinning when she thought no one was looking. Well there was no time to think through that now. They clattered into the nearest rec room.

  Packer’s prediction about word getting round quickly was spot on. Josie had never seen the place so full. Plenty of off-duty people were mingled in with those who had been notified to be there. Link warriors were clumped in intimate little groups, which shed and gained members at regular intervals. The same questions and answers reached Josie’s ears as she drifted past each one.

  “Where do you suppose we are off to?”

  “Probably back to Courage for the graduation ceremonies.”

  “I heard we're going further out.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “One of the navigators has been making eyes at Suzie. He told her we were heading to Jupiter.”

  “What, in this rust-bucket?”

  “That’s what he said.”

  “Well, I don’t believe it.”

  Josie did. She was sure they were on a rimwards course. Jupiter was only ‘sort of’ to rimwards, but Courage Asteroid certainly wasn’t.

  “And why have we got a couple of combat squadrons crammed on board?”

  “They’ll just be using Belofte for a lift, ferrying them back to Courage.”

  “I suppose.”

  The conversations swirled on, growing ever more fantastical. Obviously no one knew anything for certain. She noticed a group from CM-1045 squadron and casually sauntered over. They might know more.

  A beefy gunner was making his case. “Well I reckon this could be the big one,” he said, striking his fist into his palm. “VSB is mustering everything we got for one big push to finish the Trigs off for good.”

  “Oh that would be like the last three big pushes, would it?”

  “That’s defeatist talk, Ogunde.”

  “It’s realist talk, more like.”

  So obviously the veterans didn’t have a better insight either. She craned her neck. She couldn’t see Donal Courage. She wondered where he might be. He was responsible for flight operations, so he'd probably been told before anyone else. Maybe he was being told right now.

  The beefy gunner noticed her uninvited social intrusion and gave her a hard look. Fortunately the ship’ intercom sang out, and the main vidscreen cut to the familiar paternal figure of Captain Erasmus Hutton. Instantly the hubbub ceased. Hutton cleared his throat on his second attempt, and began to speak. Every so often his eyes flicked very obviously to a prepared speech just out of shot.

  “This is the Captain speaking.” Hutton was an elderly officer, and one definitely unhappy with his lot. The lines on his face spoke of current disappointment and drudgery, rather than of past love and laughter. He was basically working towards his retirement, relying on long experience to perform the routine, but fearing the difficult decisions that came with the extraordinary. He was the perfect custodian of an obsolete Depot Ship carrying out simple ferrying duties.

  “I am making this announcement to apprise you of our current situation,” he began. “I am sure there are many rumours going around the ship, so I felt it was important to let you know the true situation.”

  “I can confirm that we will not be returning to
Courage Asteroid as planned, or for the foreseeable future. I’m afraid that the well-earned leave that some of you were looking forward to will have to be postponed. I can assure you that the ship is not being paid off or scrapped. Neither has she been sold to another Admiralty.”

  There were a few groans. Belofte being sold off had been one of the more outlandish explanations of the sudden change in shipboard routine. It must have attracted particularly good odds.

  Hutton drew breath. “We have in fact been temporarily transferred from transport command to the Jovian Defence Fleet.”

  There was a series of sharp intakes of breath and murmurs of surprise. As well there might be - Josie had never heard of a Jovian defence fleet. Hutton paused. He was most definitely not the perfect custodian of an obsolete Depot Ship about to go on active duty. He seemed thoroughly incredulous at the enormity of the statement he was reading out, but he continued steadily enough.

  “The Jovian Defence Fleet is a new command, and has been specially formed to counter possible Triangle League incursions into the Jovian system, and to support our allies there.” He paused again. “I can assure you this will be a purely temporary measure, and that we will be returning to transport command very shortly. We will certainly be ferrying war drones and personnel to some of the bases there. I anticipate that we will be taking on other squadrons and moving them around too, and I am sure that all the crew will continue to extend our well-known hospitality to our new guests.”

  Someone hawked volubly. There were a few titters and several “urghs” of disgust.

  Hutton ran a hand across his face, a classic sign of deception, but in this case Josie was sure it was just nerves. Hutton was telling the truth, or at least what he genuinely thought was the truth.

  “I know this may be disappointing news to those of you expecting to return to Courage,” Hutton was winding up now, “but we have a job to do, and I know that the ship’s company will rise to the occasion. That is all.”

  The screen blanked. There was an instant buzz of conversation. Josie didn’t think many people were disappointed at all, certainly not the link warriors. The techies were mostly impassive. The gamblers groaned or exulted, as appropriate to their wagers.