by Chris Hechtl
~~~^~~~
After Catherine left, Malwin shook his head. She was coming along faster than he'd expected. He appreciated her efforts on his behalf. He hadn't expected the leading families to intervene and shield him, though he was grateful. He had a lot to make up for there.
He checked the status board and then nodded. The Cutlass prototypes had flown beautifully. He had already signed off on sending their blueprints to the other industrial centers they controlled. Retooling the Raptor lines had begun. They would be phased in over the course of a month.
Now, if Elvira and the other techno-nerds could do something about the other deficiencies they had found in their hardware …
~~~^~~~
Catherine continued to try to arrange a meeting with Admiral Von Berk. Such things might have been easier if she'd had a staff she could trust. Unfortunately, she didn't. She could trust her assigned staff about as far as she could throw any of them, and by that she meant trust them to shove a knife in her back.
Despite their hindrance she had looked Admiral Von Berk up in between other things. He had been in charge of Fourth Fleet of course. They'd met once or twice briefly, and she'd read his reports. She found out he was supposed to be training personnel at the academy. When she went to check in with him, his staff politely informed her that he wasn't there.
“So, where is he?” she demanded, noting the academy was in session.
The lieutenant who was handling the admiral's class shook his head. “You might want to try the bars near the academy, Ma'am.”
“Oh.” She blinked bemused at his delivery and her own reaction and then she shrugged. “Ready for a walk?” she asked her security detail. They didn't look at all happy, but she didn't give them a chance.
After their third try in a bar, they found her quarry in a corner getting drunk. It was just after noon. She came over and leaned against the bar. The bartender offered her a drink. She ordered a martini and then tried to engage the admiral in small talk.
She was surprised when he turned to look at her balefully, and she finally got a good look at him. He had a livid black and blue bruise on one cheek, a cut above his right eye, his left was black and nearly swollen shut, and he had an obvious broken nose and teeth missing. In other words, he looked like hell, not the admiral he was reported to be.
“Why are you here, Princess? To throw peanuts at the monkey?” he asked tiredly, stripping the shell off a peanut and then tossing the shell at one of her security guards.
“I'm checking in. You are one of the few people in the empire to have fought the enemy and survived. I thought I should see if you have any insights that you haven't made in your reports or if you've remembered anything since filing them,” she said.
“Some hero,” he muttered. He bitterly remembered getting attacked by a group of people. Many of the sailors he'd taken with him and had lost had bitter families. He wasn't certain why he was still alive. “It wasn't supposed to be this way.”
“I'm not following.”
“This! Me! I sacrificed everything to get the …,” he paused and glanced at her security detail and then waved a hand. “You know what I mean.”
“You did take a task force out and bring back one ship—a ship that wasn't even yours. You had how many ships and personnel under your command, Admiral?”
“I don't need a reminder, Princess. I took my licks from the board.”
“Who went easy on you given our need for experienced flag officers who have faced the enemy.”
“I still got the job done!”
“Admiral, I know some people pay a high price for doing the right thing. Now I need you to step up.”
“Are you ordering me to do my duty, Captain?” he asked scathingly. He took his drink and then downed it and then took hers and did the same. “Martini,” he growled, setting the empty glass down. “Sissy drink.”
“I wanted something light. I'm not a fan of drinking my lunch,” she said with a shrug.
“What are you offering?” he finally asked.
“A posting out of here. Away from Horath. In Sigma.”
He stared at her with rheumy eyes and then looked away. “Exile in other words?” he asked bitterly. “Why don't they just kill me and get it over with? They say I'm an embarrassment. Just finish the job.”
“Not in so many words no. And if you've given up, you are of no use to the empire. But you haven't quit; you are still here. You haven't eaten a bullet. So, something inside you hasn't broken fully. My question is, can you find it and can you use it?”
“To do what?”
“To prove them wrong. To do the hard job even though you know it hurts to do so. To kick ass and to maybe someday get some payback.”
He stared at her and then grunted. “Exile it is. I guess I'm your man,” he said, slipping off his stool and nearly falling to the floor. She caught him and eased him back.
“Go home. Sober up, then report in. I'll work things from my end. It might take a couple days or a week; I don't know. But get your act cleaned up. We'll talk again when I can arrange it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered.
As she left, she looked over her shoulder. He stood there, leaning against the bar as if he was as stiff as a board or half asleep. She shook her head and then kept going.
~~~^~~~
Catherine was surprised when she was called in for a talk with the Admiralty. “We noticed you've been visiting some odd people and making promises above your pay grade,” Countess Newberry said as she entered the room.
Catherine paused to note her security detail was going to remain outside and then closed the door slowly. “Yes, ma’am. Something like that,” she said as she came over to the group.
“Care to share as to why?” the countess asked, clearly amused by her antics.
“We need all the help we can get. Do you have a specific person in mind?”
“Admiral Von Berk for one,” the countess said, sitting back as she studied the princess.
“I think he can be redeemed,” Catherine replied, lifting her chin slightly in challenge. “I took it upon myself to, yes, try to salvage something of the man's career.”
Malwin frowned at her when he realized just what she was up to. “We were perfectly happy with him being where he is.”
“And that is a loss. I know a lot of people aren't happy about their lost loved ones. That's to be expected,” Catherine stated. “But what is done is done. He did get the package out as well as intelligence.”
“You heard about the bar fights?” Malwin asked. “I'm not sure why the man is still alive. Either his attackers are taking pity on him or someone steps in to intervene. Sometime soon his luck will be up.”
“No. I'm not here for that. I honestly don't care. You put him at the academy to try to pass on what knowledge of the enemy he had while also making him handy if you need him.”
“I put him there to get him out of the way and out of the spotlight. He was making a damn spectacle of himself,” Malwin growled. “He thought everyone owed him. He was wrong.”
“Okay, well, I'm saying we can use him and get him out of the way at the same time. This is in line with your GOTH plans, sir,” Catherine said. “They need a leader.”
Malwin studied the princess and then sat back. After a long moment of consideration, he cocked his head. “Oh?” he prompted coolly.
Catherine was aware of the look but kept moving forward.
“He knows now he screwed up. Fine. We know the enemy has been slipping ships into Sigma. I'm saying we send him in charge of a convoy to El Dorado.”
The admiral sat up straight and stared at her. After a long moment, he shook himself. “You aren't serious! Our most secure facility?”
“I thought that was here?” she asked whimsically, arching an eyebrow. He snorted. “No, I know it isn't. I'm saying we send him there with an escort. He can make sure the way there is still safe and keep an eye out for anyone watching them. He can also do other duties along th
e way. Bring wayward star systems he visits back in line for instance. Spread the newest intelligence we have as well as the newest blueprints we're using also.”
Malwin frowned as he pondered her proposal. He did have a hole in that chain of command. He grunted. “Okay,” he said reluctantly.
“Just like that?” the countess asked, staring at him. He waved a hand as if to dismiss her concerns and indicate they'd discuss it later.
“It does a few other things, sir. It redeems him a little, not a small service to his family who will owe you. It also gets him out of the spotlight for years,” she said. He grudgingly nodded. “It puts him on a secret mission, so people will stop talking about him. And we might need his grit later, so it saves him.”
“And if he fails? Or runs into the Federation?”
“Then who better to run away? Or to fight?” she asked with a cold smile. The admiral slowly nodded. The countess grunted and then nodded as well.
~~~^~~~
The dowager empress received a report on Catherine's activities. Quietly she supported it since she didn't see the harm, though she knew there was more to the story than what her granddaughter was letting on.
“Granddaughter, I know not what you are up to, but I'll give you just a little more rope. You'll either hang yourself or I'll have to use it as a leash to yank you back into line if I still need you,” she murmured to herself as she tapped out notes.
~~~^~~~
Eventually, the knowledge of the battle of Dead Drop percolated through the ranks until someone talked. Loose talk in bars and public places or between spouses were common ways for the limited media to get information. Anonymous bloggers or family bloggers released information about the battle, but it was scuttlebutt and inaccurate.
Normally Imperial Intelligence would step in quietly to get people to pull the blogs down and to still the rumors. But the impact was too widespread and began to hit the markets. Any attempt to end the rumors might be seen as a government clampdown and confirmation, which could send the stock markets spiraling out of control.
In order to quell the various stories and set the record straight, the navy released the government's account of the battle. They played it off as a win, stating that the navy had stopped the Federation cold and held their ground. But they couldn't quite gloss over the losses.
An artist who was rather popular because of his cutting-edge antics created a caricature of a Skull Squadron pilot getting killed. "Come back from that" the caption read, a twist on the wing's undead motto.
The image incensed many including the emperor. “I want this man dealt with, him and his family. I am not going to sweep him up. Do it tonight. I don't care about incidental losses,” he ordered. “And kill the editor who allowed this filth to be released.
The Konohagakure assassin bowed and left.
The memory of the black clad ninja reminded the emperor to check in on the Daimyo and his family. They had Konahagakure's support because the Fire Daimyo was his “guest.” Eventually, he planned to slip in his own person to control the planet and then the rest of the bloodline could be eliminated.
But, not at the moment he thought as he scanned the live video feed. He tapped at the controls to check the other cameras. They were in a sealed habitat in orbit of Horath's star. Once a week a cargo ship docked and unloaded supplies. The family were kept comfortable and occasionally trotted out for visitors from the planet to see or for Imperial Intelligence to have them send a recording back to their planet.
He nodded once and then closed the line. Imperial Intelligence had warned him that although the ninja was ordered to be loyal they could never be too careful. Any transmission could be witnessed or traced.
He closed his eyes. If only his people were more in tune with the ninja and vice versa. In time they would be, but it was painful to have to wait.
Chapter 34
Little Odessa VI
Captain Hook tried to grin as his ship the Jolly Roger outran his opponent once more. It sucked for his Arboth class destroyer, the Jolly Roger, pride of the Gather Fleet to be running from a pissant Federation warship 20 percent smaller but he had no choice. His ship was hurt, and the other ship had better tech. That had to be how the little thing could keep within shouting distance. He sorely regretted taunting the bastard.
Well, sometimes, he thought with a shrug.
“Tick tock, tick tock, come and get me you big ole croc,” he muttered as his ship finished preparations to jump out of the star system. He had doubled back once and even done a short jump to try to outmaneuver his opponent. But the damn Relgarth always found his trail again. He was nothing if not tenacious. He was starting to have nightmares about that damn ship and its captain.
Until he found a way to shake the Manta class frigate he couldn't risk going to a base. Twice he'd been forced to run when his CIC had picked up lidar and radar hits from Federation cruisers too. "This neighborhood is going south fast," he murmured.
"Sir?" Mister Smeed, his XO asked, looking at him in concern.
"Attend to your duties," the captain said sharply. The short man nodded and returned his attention to the ship.
“Five seconds from jump. Four, three, two, one,” his navigator said.
“Clean insertion. We're on our way,” the helmsman stated. "Let's see if they try to trail us on this route," he said.
The captain nodded. He had chosen a path only Horthain ships had known about. He was pretty sure the Federation ship would hesitate in following, but he wasn't 100 percent certain, not with that crock. And he could very easily pick up their trail again if he remained persistant. “Very good. Smooth sailing and steady as she goes,” the captain said. There, they'd outrun the Federation Navy for another day. For the moment, that was all that mattered.
~~~^~~~
Dead Drop
The return of four cruisers and two support ships at the DD01ns threw the lone picket ship there on high alert. She managed to stand-down the defenses arrayed around the area when her tiny CIC staff recognized the energy signatures of the new arrivals and matched them with the ships that had left.
Captain Dukajin Albu was a bit confused when he saw no sign of the Retribution Fleet. “What happened?” he demanded.
It wasn't until they got a signal from the lonely frigate on picket duty that they received their answer. After downloading the dispatches and logs, Captain Albu had his communications section lay a signal on the inner star system and the command fortress. He had his TAO link into the weapon platforms and mines around the jump point region to take control of them and make certain his ships were safe.
The fortresses that had been under construction when he'd left were seemingly abandoned. He could see traffic on the plot, but everything was in the inner star system. He wondered what was going on and why the work had stopped.
“Captain Abernly. I'm a little confused, but I gather you got left here?”
“You made good time,” the captain replied a few minutes later. He paused and then nodded. “That's right.
Captain Albu snorted. “We didn't have Drake, Garrot, Scissori, and Kachin Dao slowing us down. And we thought it was important,” he said dryly.
There was another eight-minute pause and then Captain Abernly's image nodded. “Understood. We'll debrief you as soon as we get together. In the meantime, send us your reports,” he stated.
“Ahem, a point of order, Captain. I outrank you by date of rank. So, I believe command is in my favor,” Captain Albu stated, taking command.
“Yes, sir,” Captain Abernly replied a few minutes later. There was no point protesting or sighing. In a way, it was a relief to let someone else take charge again.
~~~^~~~
Captain Albu's quiet time in charge lasted a total of forty-nine and a half hours. He was in bed sleeping off one too many shots after trying to figure out how to defend the star system when a fresh arrival at the outer edge of the Dd01ns jump point ended his time with Morpheus abruptly.
“Talk to
me,” he said, still laying flat on his stomach face down as one hand touched the button linking his intercom to the bridge.
“Jump arrival from behind us. CIC is still working on the numbers.”
“You think it's our little lost lambs?” the captain asked.
“Skipper CIC reports more than four ships in the jump exit. I'd say that's a no,” his XO replied.
The captain groaned. “I'll be there in a minute,” he said as he forced himself to rise and then blearily looked around. He was a bit hung over and didn't like the feeling. But you paid for your pleasures.
He did his business in the head and then got dressed before he staggered to the bridge.
~~~^~~~
Captain Samantha Jurgison sometimes wished Captain Mustafa Leo outranked her. But only sometimes, she thought as Admiral Halsey secured from the jump. She smiled as she noted the arrival of the Second Fleet raiders in the outskirts of the Dead Drop star system exactly where she wanted them to be.
And even better there were no defenders in the area. In fact, there was just a single frigate and a couple of weapon platforms. Nice, she thought.
“Helm, jink us. Let's make sure we're a moving target. Tell the CAG to keep his pups inside for the moment. Comm, set up the net; I want everyone on the same page,” she ordered.
~~~^~~~
Captain Abernly groaned when he received the report from CIC. “Sir, what do we do?”
“Pass the alert. Put SAR up. Damn it, you know the drill. Pass on the evac order to all nonessential personnel on the platforms.”
“Do we shut down work in the yard, sir? We just got everything cleaned up!” Lieutenant Savenan protested, clearly exasperated by the situation.
“We do not. We keep going until the enemy clearly threatens us. Let's see what Captain Albu can do,” Captain Abernly stated.
The lieutenant looked at him dubiously but nodded and then turned away to issue the necessary orders.
