by Chris Hechtl
“Most of the fuel replenishment has been completed …,” the A.I. started to say but the Admiral cut him off.
“Most?” he demanded.
“Some repairs had to be made to some ships to seal fuel tanks. Now that they have been patched, inspected, and pressure tested those tanks can be reused. They will be refilled when the oilers make another round, sir,” the A.I. replied patiently.
“Ah. Continue.”
“We're working on resupplying across the board now. The initial ship packets have been distributed and absorbed. Fresh ones are being assembled. The repair ships are working on that. We are also distributing the ordinance from the munitions ships. We are in short supply there.”
The admiral grimaced ever so slightly but nodded, keeping his fingers on the edge of the tabletop still.
“I know. And I know they have to be careful, so I don't want to jog their elbow. But everyone knows that time may be of the essence. We need to finish that up.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Are we still going to clear the empty ships and then send them back, sir?” Kyle asked politely.
“That's the plan at the moment. There is no point keeping an empty ship with us, especially if it is a support ship. This star system is sparse in resources, so we can't stockpile even if we had the spare industrial capacity, which we don't,” the admiral replied tartly. He saw Alec stiffen slightly and Kelly wince. Even Garfield's ears went flat. He shrugged it off.
Everyone knew he was annoyed and his temper was short. They also knew why.
“ONI has confirmed that we faced Courageous and their vaunted Skull Squadron,” First Lieutenant Kelly Gaudino, their Neogorilla spook, reported.
“Well, nice of them to confirm what we already knew,” Lieutenant Commander Garfield, the orange Neocat staff tactical officer drawled.
Kelly shot the cat a reproving look and then continued on. “They are processing the data we've sent them now. I've had requests for additional data on the ships, especially the capital ships we encountered. They'd like detailed sensor feeds of them to ID them. They'd also like a detailed feed of Executioner and the other Retribution ships so they can gauge how well they were repaired since our last encounter.”
Amadeus frowned but then caught on. “So, they can get a meter stick on how fast they can make field repairs to judge how well their engineering departments are,” he said slowly.
“Aye, sir, as well as figure out their logistics. They most likely ran themselves dry in their retreat, but they've obviously hit a bonanza in Dead Drop. Either they had supplies on hand or picked them up from Garth or they were en route,” Kelly replied.
“It'd be nice to see how effective those repairs are and what parts worked and what didn't. See if we can find any weaknesses,” Garfield murmured thoughtfully.
“That's ONI's thinking as well, I believe, sir,” Kelly said, addressing her comments to the admiral. “I'd like to see if they got their shield nodes all back up or covered specific areas and look for other weaknesses we might exploit.”
“You mean you haven't figured that out already?” Garfield demanded.
“You haven't either?” Kelly retorted. Garfield's ears went flat, and he hissed softly back at her. “FYI, Commander, I've been a bit busy as has every department. I've been working on it off and on, but the computer time is prioritized,” Kelly stated defensively. “Also, picking through their ECM to get a proper look takes a lot of computer power and time.”
“Oh.”
“No one is knocking your job so power down, Kelly,” Commander Ch'v'tt stated.
“And let's watch the tone,” the admiral said mildly as he rocked from side to side in his chair. She nodded once to him and then to Garfield. The Neochimp admiral eventually stopped and steepled his fingers together in front of him. “Okay. As soon as replenishment is complete, we'll work on exercises to get back up to speed. Garfield, you need to work with Kelly to get what we know about the enemy ships and plug it into the tactical computers. Use pessimistic numbers; I don't want to get caught flat-footed.” Again was left unsaid.
“We're going to be downloading files through the ansible for a while. We've sent everything by courier, but by the time it gets to Protodon, let alone the capital, we'll have gotten through the bulk of the reports. Ch'v'tt, Kyle, stay on top of the repairs.”
Both of the junior officers signaled agreement in their own way.
“Alec, I want a running updated course for us—two minimum as a contingency. The first is a straight-line course to B-97C in case we get bounced out. But, if they somehow get around us, I want a backup option available.”
Alec nodded. “A jump to B-97b would work, sir. We can outrun them in hyper,” the navigator stated.
“Good. Get your people on that but do so quietly. I know the idea of running further isn't appealing to some, and others might be wondering why we aren't already. Well, we're not going to run unless we have to. We already paid in blood to get this far; we're going to make them pay in blood, preferably theirs, to get this territory back.”
“What about the jump to SNHH, sir?” the Veraxin asked. “You haven't established a picket,” he reminded the admiral.
“That's because we've already scouted it. We've confirmed there hasn't been traffic to it in our absence. There is no point sending a force there. They'd be cut off if we had to retreat.”
“Yes, sir,” the Veraxin replied, indicating first-degree agreement.
“For the moment, they are best left alone. Let some things lie for the moment, we'll get around to them when we have the resources to do so. Now, I want ideas on how to maximize our current resources. Look into that. I will too.” He rose abruptly. The staff did as well. “Dismissed.”
~~~^~~~
Commodore Trajan Vargess read the latest report as he prepped for the conference. Everything on Argus was going as well as could be expected. He supported the CAG's demand to use E class fighters in all simulation packages from now on. It made sense to train against the best the enemy had even if they had only a few of them.
What they had was bad enough he reminded himself with a tinge of bitterness in his thoughts. Oh, his people had given as good as they'd paid, but it wasn't enough. It would never be enough, especially when he had to write home to the families involved.
He turned away but then back to the screen when the red light went from red to green and Dwight's holographic avatar appeared. “Dwight,” he replied with a nod in greeting.
“Trajan. I take it we're the early birds?”
“Not a problem. Better to be early than on time or late,” Trajan replied.
Dwight frowned. “How do you figure that? I mean, I get not being late, but on time?”
“Oh, just something I heard,” Trajan replied before he relented and gave up his source material. “I overheard a kid, a SEAL washout, say something like that. On time is the same as being late. Always be ahead of the ball,” he quoted.
“Ah.” Dwight seemed to think about it and then he nodded again. “Better to anticipate than be caught out I suppose.”
“Something like that,” Trajan stated as Admiral White's image appeared.
“Gentlemen,” the Admiral said with a brief nod and small smile.
“Sir,” both men replied in unison.
“Okay, let's get this show on the road,” Admiral White stated. “We still have a week, probably longer before the window opens on the potential arrival of the enemy. That's based on their observed speed.”
“Based on the observed best speed, not of the cripples,” Dwight pointed out. “It could be longer, sir.”
“Agreed. I honestly don't expect them to come too soon, Trajan's boys and girls did a damn good job chewing up their fighters for us,” the Neochimp admiral said with a nod to Trajan's avatar.
“Not without our own losses, sir.”
“I know.”
“I wonder if they'll fight forward of their base. I'm also wondering if De Gaulte will let the DN
commander come after us without him or if he'll insist on tagging along.”
“It's possible,” Admiral White stated. “Anything is since we don't have any information. Which is what I'm working on rectifying. I'm going forward with sending the prowler in. I am still considering your destroyer scouting mission, Dwight,” he said to the commodore.
“I think it is worth the risk, sir, even if it does stir up the hornet's nest and gets them to chase them willy-nilly all over the star system or even come after them to us. At least then we'd know,” Dwight replied with a shrug.
Trajan grimaced but didn't say anything. He'd been focused on rebuilding the wings, so he hadn't gotten a clear grasp on Dwight's proposal.
“I don't know. If Kittyhawk or one of the other CEV groups show up, I might go with it to make them think we're still offensive minded. For the moment we're going to stand pat,” Admiral White stated calmly.
“That sort of delay might embolden them to think we're defensive minded and invite them to go on the offense and come after us,” Dwight warned. “They might think they can chase us out, and rightly so,” he stated, cocking his head at the Neochimp.
“Granted, but given the fact that we haven't been burned nearly as badly as they have, they'll think twice before tangling with us. Remember, we destroyed two of their dreadnoughts and six battle cruisers. That's got to hurt.”
“Pride, sir. And a thirst for revenge. Both can blind a man. I'd like to see us use that and their anger against them, but I don't see it. Not with what we've got right now. Maybe in a couple months …,” Commodore Dwight Harris shrugged helplessly.
“Ask me for anything but time. Yes, I know. We're still licking our wounds. How are we with the ordinance?”
“We've got enough for one bomber strike. It'd be tight. But, surprise is lost so they'd know they'd be coming in. They'd most likely throw everything they got at them,” Trajan warned. Going up against a prepared enemy with a light bomber strike force with minimal fighter escort against E fighters was tantamount to suicide for his fliers. “Have you considered my proposal again, sir?”
“I did. We're getting reinforcements now. Kittyhawk, her escort, Ch'Lx'sinak and two HCs are on the way; we should be seeing them at any time. As soon as they get here, you can pull their wings and ordinance, strip them to bear decking if you have to, and then send them back. I want to keep Illustrious and the other carriers here.”
“I don't see much good it will be, sir; they'll have to go to Protodon to get replacements. Protodon doesn't have a good stockpile and the turnaround will be longer if they have to go all the way to the capital,” Dwight stated.
“Which is why Trajan wanted to get the ball rolling now. I'm almost tempted to pull any empty CEVs you've got now and send them but I'm not certain it would be worth it. There are just enough fighters inside the orbital fortresses in Protodon to make up two CEV wings but that's it. They've already sent a quarter of their wing in TF 2.2. We'd strip them bare to do it.”
“They can make more in Antigua, sir, or Pyrax or wherever,” Trajan said.
“Hmm. Okay, figure out which pair of CEVs we can spare to send. As I said, we'll need to strip them. I want them cleaned out and gone pronto.”
Trajan nodded, feeling intense relief. Just getting the ball rolling would take time, but they had to lay in the groundwork this early if they were going to have a shred of hope of getting the relief in time. “Yes, sir. I can get my people working on that.”
“And I'll send a message to the Admiralty warning them of this plan and requesting replacements for Protodon as well as more craft,” Admiral White stated, making a note on his tablet. “What else?”
“Do we know anything about better fighter ordinance, sir? ECM packages? Anything tailored to go up against E class fighters? That comes from the new CAG,” Trajan stated. “I've also had requests for information on any new fighters or bombers in the pipeline.”
“In other words, our people want better planes now that they've met their match,” Dwight said.
“I can't blame them. We've had the edge in every engagement until now. They want to get back up on top,” Trajan stated.
“Agreed. I'll look into it, but I think we're stuck with what we've got.”
“Yes, sir. But it might be a good idea for the brass at home to consider it.”
“A good point. I'll make it when I talk to them again. What else?”
“Well, even though we've resupplied, we are low on counter missiles and defensive packages. We kept to an even distribution, but I think we should make a point of supplying the screen first. They'll most likely get the sharp end. That and the escort destroyers …,” Dwight said as he began to lay out his argument.
~~~^~~~
“You heard the scuttlebutt?” a voice stage whispered outside her open office door. Meia frowned slightly but didn't look up.
“No,” another voice said. “What?”
“They are sending the CEVs home to regroup!”
“No way!” the other man said.
“Way man. We've got our ticket out of here!” the first voice exalted, forcing her to get up and go over to the doorway.
“Actually,” she drawled, making both sailors flinch and then turn to her. “No, we're not going anywhere. Warrior's Fire and Ch'Lin'fak drew the short straws and are headed back to Protodon. They are going to pick up fresh fighters and bombers and then come back. So, get your scuttlebutt right.”
“Ah, yes, ma'am,” the chimera sailor said sheepishly. “Excuse us, ma'am?”
“Dismissed,” she said, letting them go.
Meia frowned, crossing her arms as she wondered how long it would take for the truth to make the rounds and how fast it would be again twisted into a pretzel. She grimaced and then gave up on such things. It was really the problem of the ship's leadership anyway. She had enough of a headache integrating pups from the screen into Admiral Halsey's wing.
She wasn't certain how her ship had drawn the short straw and had been selected to remain on duty with the fleet. She knew her pups had done okay, surviving better than most. She knew some thought her own skills were the reason why. She wasn't so certain. She frowned again and then went to chase down a cup of coffee before she drowned in more reports. She needed to get a handle on the noobs to find out their strengths and weaknesses quickly. Something told her they might not have a lot of time to settle in and get to know one another.
~~~^~~~
Ensign Riley Sutter stopped at the corner when she heard the CAG's voice. She'd been on her way to drop in and feel the CAG out but now she thought better of it. Instead she went to the pilot's ready room to study the boards some more.
She was new to the CEV, having transferred from the Arboth class destroyer Osborne after surviving the battle of Dead Drop. She wasn't certain what to make of her new position in the squadron. Before, she'd been on her way to take over Osborne's small squadron. Now she was just a spear carrier.
At least she wasn't assigned to mind one of the Marine wings. They had a mixed bag of noncoms and officers. The navy got it right by making all pilots officers since they were potential commanders. She frowned as she studied the board without really looking at it. Truth be told she had the willies about facing off against E class fighters. Scuttlebutt said they were the best of the best the enemy had to offer. She wanted to know every trick she could learn if she was going to have a chance of surviving.
But, none of them would help her if the carrier was lost and there was no home to come back to she thought bleakly.
~~~^~~~
Captain Senior Grade Renee Mayweather looked over to her XO, Lieutenant Commander L'ckk'clck, and noted he was talking with First Lieutenant Ch'rax, Shizouka's T'clock chief engineer. The chief hadn't liked the harmonic the ship had picked up in hyperspace during the retreat and was still running it down.
She glanced over to the bridge crew and then to the plot. She could understand why some on her bridge and in the crew were nervous though they tried un
successfully to hide it from her prying eyes. They had a right to be nervous after what they'd just faced. They were watching Warrior's Fire, Ch'Lin'fak, two munitions ships, one oiler, four of the seven Liberty class tenders, both of the Dora tenders, and the transport liner headed to the jump point and safety. It was a little hard to see their fellows retreating to safety and know their force was diminished and possibly facing a juggernaut.
Well, there were ways to deal with that and ways to deal with their crappy morale. You'd think because they'd gotten out relatively unscathed and even kicked the enemy in the teeth, they'd be okay! But no, morale was fickle; the idea of retreating and of what they had left to face had sunk in during the retreat, driving morale down into the dumps. She frowned and then beckoned her XO over. It was past time they started to work the crew back up to force them out of their funk and remind them that they were the Federation Navy. Since she liked playing opposition force, she knew just how to do it she thought evilly.
~~~^~~~
Senior Chief Petty Officer Pricilla Sinclair, chimera Bosun of the HC Skale, frowned as she arrived at where a team had run into a problem, a potentially serious problem. She'd been on the deck when she'd caught the call and had been on her way to drop in and make sure they were doing the work and not lollygagging.
OPS and the power rooms were still pitching a snit since the damn backup generator on that deck was still acting up. They were still dealing with damage control issues throughout the ship and needed the thing. Even if it was a relic.
The generator was a diesel hybrid of all things. It was a backup to the backups. When all else failed, they turned the thing on and fed it fuel and veggie oil from the mess until something better came along or they ran out of power. Heaven help them if they ever had to rely on the stupid thing; its waste gave the life support people fits. She wasn't certain why the navy required them onboard when they had fusion reactors, batteries, capacitors, fuel cells, and what have you onboard.
