The Jovian Sweep (Asteroid Scrabble Book 1)

by Martin Bourne

  "I got to hand it to you Jose, you were right about the ship," said Packer. He checked his perscomp. "Slag...I'm on duty in five. I'll catch you all later."

  "Wow...active duty!" breathed Celene.

  "Nah, they'll drop us off somewhere," said Lilybeth, rather uncertainly.

  "Maybe," said Marilyn, "Let's get a drink."

  "Good idea," said Celene. "I got to talk about this! What'll you have Jose? Coffee?"

  The resulting rash of speculation was only cut short by collective fatigue. One by one people drifted off. Only a few were left when Donal Courage strode into the rec room, carrying a fistful of vidscrolls. He acknowledged several of his squadron mates, before making his way over to Celine and Josie.

  “Ensign Tallion? Ensign D'Abro? I have your new duty rosters here.” He leaned over and positioned a vidscroll on the table where they could both see. Josie unconsciously shifted from his alarming proximity.

  “I wanted to explain it to you personally,” he began. “We have far more drones than we have crews on board at the moment, so we are going to take the opportunity to keep our warriors as fresh as possible, and at the same time give you cadets,” he flashed a smile at Celine, “sorry, EX-cadets - some experience. You'll be doing practice on actual combat drones."

  His forearm was lightly tanned and had quite a dusting of moles.

  "I've assigned the two of you to drone 6023. Ensign D'Abro? You'll be on countermeasures. We'll be getting some of the other rookies to try and get a target lock on you, ok?"

  Celene seemed to be struggling to keep a straight face. "Yes sir."

  Donal turned to Josie. “Now, Ensign Tallion, you’ll be piloting the drone, straight run out to the five two trailing position and back again. I’m afraid it’s a Kazan, which I understand you have no experience of? Not to worry, there isn’t that much to the controls. They do have a tendency to pull sharply if stressed, but I'm sure you'll be able to handle that. I suggest you check the manuals before you go. Both of you that is, of course." He stood up. "If you do get into any difficulties yell for help.”

  “I will sir.”

  Donal gave her a smile, nodded to Celene, and strode off. Josie watched him go.

  Celene gave a little giggle and leaned over. "He likes you."

  Josie flushed. "He does not."

  “Yes he does. Remember that long chat he had with you after the party?”

  “I wish I hadn’t told you about that.”

  “And what about when that time in the tech sheds? You know, when he specifically ordered that tech chief to leave you alone?”

  “He was just being kind.”

  “Then why did he come over here to jabber about duty rosters? He could easily have downloaded that directly onto our perscomps.”

  “It’s called leadership Celene. Talking to someone directly adds a personal touch. People respond to that.”

  “It’s called lust Josie, and I’m quite sure he’d like to personally touch you and get a response.”

  Josie mock slapped her friend on the shoulder. “Celene! That’s rude! And it’s not true. Lieutenant-Commander Courage has always behaved perfectly properly.”

  "Maybe, but I’ve seen him staring at you when he thinks no one is looking."

  “Oh come on!”

  “He does!” Celene gave quick glances over her shoulders, then leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially. “He’s always eyeing you up.”

  Josie stirred her coffee rather too hard. “Celene, he’s a senior officer from a major Confederation family with a military heritage as long as my arm. He’s got loads of combat ribbons and ‘kill’ markers. And he’s smart, and handsome, and kindly, and…” She noticed Celene’s broad grin. “There are loads of better-looking girls than me hanging round him all the time. What would he see in a semi-foreigner like me?”

  “You fancy him too don’t you?”

  “Shut up Celene.”

  “It’s nothing to be ashamed of! I wish I had a true love.”

  “By all that's virtuous!” A few heads turned in their direction, and Josie hurriedly lowered her voice. “True love? I hardly know him, he’s oblivious to me and you’re going on about true love? You’ll have us shouting, setting up together and having eight children by the end of the day!”

  Celene grinned. “If he was to drop a little note on your perscomp one day inviting you for a drink, you wouldn’t say ‘no’ would you?”

  “That’s neither here nor there! Anyway he hasn’t. And there’s no chance that he will.”

  “But if he did, would you say no?”

  Josie felt the colour rise in her cheeks.

  “Heh, now I’m sure you’re interested!”

  “Alright.” She pointed at her friend, “but it would be the right thing to say no.”

  “Hey,” said Celene as she gripped Josie’s hand, “don’t get so worked up, my strait-laced little Callistoan friend! It’s perfectly ok for him to like you and you to like him in that way. The question is: What are you going to do about it?”

  “There’s not a lot I can do.” Josie noticed her friend’s expression. “Celene, he’s responsible for flight ops in a short-handed combat squadron on board a Depot Ship with lots of bright-eyed rookie link warriors all looking for billets. I can’t throw myself at him! It’d look like I was currying favour. Anyway, it’s not right for a lady to chase after a gentleman.”

  “By all that’s Virtuous you Callistoans live by some stupid rules! How do you ever manage to pair up?”

  Josie couldn’t think of an answer, so she took a gulp of her coffee instead. Celene gave a snort.

  They drank companionably together for a while. Josie found her eyes straying across the room to where Donal Courage was deep in conversation. He had his back to her but she could see how broad his shoulders were and how, as he nodded in agreement with some point, locks of his hair spilled out around his ears. The female link warrior he was speaking to was flirting with him outrageously. She had a flawless figure and the most dazzling crown of chestnut brown hair. Josie thought of her own unmanageable dense sable tresses with envy.

  The coffee cup was empty. Josie stared at the dregs disconsolately. When she did speak her voice was very low.

  “Celene, does he really stare at me?”

  Celene gave another of her trademark broad grins and emphasised her reply on each word. “All. The. Time. He's interested Jose, trust me.”

  Josie twirled a lock of her hair, trying to sort very unaccustomed emotions out.

  “Don’t worry Jose, I’ll think of a way to get the two of you together.”

  “Oh-oh.”

  “What?”

  “Celene, don’t take this badly, but I’m not sure you’re the right person to be organising someone else’s love life.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You were the one who was certain that Galbro Briones and Nefal Baldew from class 501 were an ‘item’, and then found out three months later they were stepbrother and stepsister!”

  “It was an easy mistake to make! They had different surnames and they were spending a lot of time together.”

  “A lot of time together…you even tried to run a sweep on when they would shout for each other! I recall you had the day after graduation as the 5 to 4 on favourite.”

  Celene folded her arms. “I think it was very mean that not one person bothered to tell me they were related.”

  Josie gave a grin of her own. “Really? I thought it was a good example of teamwork, everyone agreeing to keep it secret.”

  “What?”

  “Joke. No one else knew.”

  “Ha, ha.”

  Josie took to twirling her hair again. Celene leaned over again.

  "Look Jose, you need push the door and if it’s meant to be, it'll happen."

  Josie nodded, sure the advice was right, but unsure she could follow it.

  Chapter 18.

  Depot Ship Valiant, 20 spatials corewards of Persephone, Jovian System.

>   Admiral Jack Courage finally decided he could afford to stand up, stretch and reset his aching joints. His legs promptly wobbled and he felt his head swim. Only an instinctive grab at the bulkhead prevented him from falling.

  That was a bad one. They were getting worse. Or at least more frequent. Well they seemed to be. Maybe it was just his imagination. It had been a long session after all.

  Of course, ‘seemed’, ‘imagination’ and ‘long session’ might be excuses. He was getting older, and that meant his body simply didn’t work as efficiently as it once had. He was finding that long hours took more and more out of him, and it was taking ever longer to recover. The awful suspicion was growing that one day his body was simply going to give out.

  On the other hand, his last medical report had been glowing. ‘Nothing wrong at all, the best of health’ the quack had said. Of course, that might have meant the best of health relative to his age. He had forgotten to ask that question. He shook his head. Slag it! He didn’t have the time to worry about that now. What might be wasn’t as important as what was. What might be might never happen. What was happening now needed attending to. So he was mortal. So what? So was everyone else.

  His neck and shoulders hurt. He reached a hand round and squeezed at a pressure point several times until the pain eased. It was something Rose had taught him, a technique she had seen in a documentary late one night. At the time it had been enormously irritating having her fuss around him for hours on end, but he had to concede that it did help. Unfortunately, it only dispersed some of the pain for a little while. It did not remove it entirely. The dulled ache would be a continuing reminder of the intensity of the last 48 hours.

  But at least he had finished. He was convinced he had done the very best that could be done with what he had. Whether it would be enough was another matter. It all depended on whether the basic assumptions he had made on timing, and intent, and numbers were all sound. It depended on whether his planned moves worked out, and, of course, if what he thought the enemy’s reactions to his moves were accurate. It was that last consideration that was the most difficult to judge. After all, it was the one over which he had the least control.

  Frankly, there was just too much uncertainty.

  He made a minute adjustment to the immense pile of vidscrolls on his desk, a necessary duty to prevent them toppling into a chaotic mess on the floor. The first big supposition was that the League would attack at a later date than VSB thought, and therefore he would have longer to prepare his patched together force to meet them. It was a highly contentious theory - the Triangle League had a well-deserved reputation for doing the unexpected – but he believed the evidence suggested VSB’s schedule for the League move was a little optimistic.

  Of course, there was always the danger that he was seeing the evidence that way because it suited his purposes for it to be true. That was a subtle trap. Too many commanders in the past had based their plans on what they were sure the enemy was going to do. The danger was that after a while, every new piece of evidence was twisted to suit the pre-conceived reality, rather than alter it, and that was a recipe for utter disaster. He had spent a lot of time in self-examination, trying to make sure that he wasn’t even subconsciously confirming his own prejudices.

  And he had taken some steps to guard against complete disaster if his assumptions turned out to be wrong. If the League turned up on time, or even early, then the timing of his plan meant the majority of his fleet would be deployed well out of the way. There would be plenty of time to spot the incoming attack and therefore more chance of being able to organise a safe withdrawal.

  Naturally disengaging would mean professional ruin. He had been ordered to defend this position, not to give it up. But there were more important considerations than that. Standing and fighting heroically against the odds was all very gallant and good propaganda but it was also pretty stupid. A good deal more was expected of a commander than a determination to simply push people into battle.

  The door chime went off. It must be his staff aides come for their orders. Was it that time already?

  He punched accept and they trooped in, Commander Cromarty leading. Her eyes flickered once at her first sight of him, and then relaxed into a dull resignation, with just the tiniest hint of pity. Slag it! She always did that! Commander Prince looked openly shocked for the merest fraction of a second, before his professional detachment reasserted itself. That was a reaction he could handle. Most people who had not served with him before would look at him like that at some time during a campaign.

  The two came to attention, which he just waved off. He was far too tired for naval formality.

  “Good morning Commanders.”

  “It’s shipboard afternoon now, sir,” said Prince, carefully. “Gold shift began half an hour ago.”

  Courage checked his perscomp. “Oh. Well, no matter.” He picked up two fat piles of vidscrolls and handed them one each before easing himself carefully into a chair. Prince’s professional façade cracked again.

  “Umm, what is this sir?”

  “Just some last minute changes to our operations. Necessary ones brought about by having Belofte assigned instead of Tourmaline.”

  Cromarty weighed the heavy pile. “Sir, you said the substitution of Tourmaline with Belofte would just mean a few small changes - ones that would not take very long to do, or make much difference to your battle plan.”

  Courage gave a sudden retching cough. “Well, one change led to another.”

  Prince was going through the files, an expression of pure amazement blooming on his face. “Admiral,” he gasped, “this is almost a complete re-write! I mean, just about everything has changed!”

  The coughing spasm came again, harder and louder. Courage motioned to Prince as he rode it out.

  “What I am trying to say sir,” said Prince more gently, “is that I don’t know if we will be able to get all the modified orders out in time to be completed.”

  Courage motioned. “Look in the blue vidscroll. Section 221 through 230. All orders. In there.”

  Prince picked up the blue vidscroll and expertly tapped on it. His expression changed to one of utter amazement. “Sir, how was this all done so quickly? There is so much…”

  Courage rubbed his face, at the same time suppressing a yawn. “Put simply Commander, I worked very hard.”

  “And very long,” muttered Cromarty.

  “Yes, I also worked very long,” said Courage, louder than he had intended. “Check over the contents and then ready them for fleet distribution. We will reconvene and sort out any queries you might have two hours before the officer’s conference. Understood?”

  Cromarty looked flushed, but they both assented.

  “Good. I’ve done my work, so now you can go and do yours.” He yawned again. “In the meantime, I am going to sleep.”

  ******

  In retrospect the first officer’s conference hadn’t been all that bad. It had simply involved an obvious assessment of the situation and the social necessity of smiling and mouthing a few tedious platitudes. Cromarty stated, repeatedly, that this one was going to be much harder – something about having to sell his ideas. She appeared at the conference room with armfuls of vidscrolls which she carefully placed in set patterns around her. It was almost as if she was preparing for battle. Perhaps she was.

  The conference room was a large semicircle. There was room to comfortably seat only about fifty people. This didn’t matter though. The exigencies of service meant that most attendees would be only here virtually, arrayed along the wall in a multitude of vidscreens. The conference software saw to it that everyone would be able to get a perfect picture of every participant. When an attendee spoke, it would move their images centre stage.

  Courage surveyed the assembled officers. He caught a glimpse of one very familiar face, lurking at the back. It was Henrik’s boy, Donal, the one who he hadn’t spoken to in eighteen months, the one who still hadn’t forgiven him for…well, that was a lon
g time ago. He looked away quickly.

  Courage cleared his throat, checked a vidscroll that Cromarty passed to him, and addressed the quietening ranks of his subordinates.

  “Good morning. Thank you all for attending. Normally I like to consult more with my senior officers, but time presses.” Out of the corner of his eye he saw the beginning of a grin appear on Cromarty’s face. He hurried along quickly. “Detailed orders are being downloaded into your perscomps and into your ship’s databases at this very moment. I expect those instructions to be carried out to the letter and within the time scales specified. The exact details of how you do that are, of course, up to you. I can assure you however that the timetables are feasible."

  So far, so good. Several officers were tapping thoughtfully at their perscomps. “If you run into any problems in carrying out your orders please inform my aides immediately. Any adjustments will have to be made very quickly. If anyone has any questions about the nature of your orders, please voice them as soon as possible. As I intimated before, we do not have a lot of time. In that spirit, I will give you a précis of my evaluation of the situation now, and my intentions on how we will be deploying to meet the challenges that are presented.”

  On cue, Prince activated the conference holotank. Courage deliberately faced it and not his audience.

  “First there is the matter of tactical deployment. We now have a total of six fleet Depot Ships, two light Depot Ships, seven escort Depot Ships and eighteen assorted auxiliaries, two of which are non-operational at the moment. These have been drawn from several different commands and, apart from the 23rd cruiser squadron,” at this point he gave a nod to the commander of the 23rd, Commodore De Bos, “and the 15th battle squadron,” he gave another acknowledgment to their commander, Rear-Admiral Vanderkolk, “none of them have worked together before.”

  A light glowed by the image of Captain Charest of Sapphire. “Yes Captain?”

  “I would like to point out that myself and my crew have had the honour of serving with Amethyst before.”