"Where's Commander Perez?" I need to talk to Shelby, see what's what.
"Right here, Katana." I'd turn my head to look, but it's too much trouble.
"Ship's status?"
"Yorktown and everyone else for that matter at 100 percent. We're in orbit around Gamma Theta 1, our corvettes and Santa Cruz will be linking up within 4 hours. Defino in a million pieces. Krieger and Yeager recovering. We used the assault ship to bring in Bainbridge, took you out through a hole in the hull, I've ordered the boat quarantined until you can tell us how to proceed. I assume there are things in there that not everyone needs to see."
"Shel," I recover some memories, "You have no idea."
"Doctor," I change direction, "what's my status?"
He thinks for a minute. He has only two patients if Shelby is right, and still he has to think for a minute.
"Radiation exposure not severe, and we've put enough meds in you to counteract. No concussion, which is lucky, no brain damage that we can detect." Does that mean there might be some brain damage? I'm afraid to ask.
"How about Yeager?"
"He's asleep, medically induced. Didn't have his suit sealed when the incident occurred, we'll be treating him a while longer. You can resume duty anytime, if you'll promise to get extra rest and extra fluids."
Very slowly I lift myself into a sitting position, get past the slight dizziness, then turn to port, hang my feet off the side of the bed, and push out. Once I'm floating, I discover I'm in a hospital gown, and I'm covered in some kind of lotion – then I realize it's standard radiation meds for the skin. Someone saw me naked and rubbed my body down. I dearly hope it wasn't Bonilovich. Shelby reads my mind.
"We had two of the female Marines get you out of your suit and put the RadGel on you. That tattoo on your butt is safe."
I don't actually have a tattoo on my butt, but the crew will all know that I do within 20 minutes. Thanks, my loyal First officer. I turn to look at her anyway.
"Commander, get Lt. Palmer down to the boat deck and into his suit. I'll join you there in five. We'll need one of his containers. I think the three of us can handle it. Once we're done, send an engineering team over there to see if they can restart the reactor. Find my camera before we go, and make sure no one looks at it, or at the suit cam video for either me or Yeager."
She gives me a dirty look, but doesn't argue. I make the quick trip to my quarters (which are luckily 15 feet away) to put on some real clothes before floating down to the boat deck.
I have to put on a standard issue Navy rig to go outside, not fun, but my personal gear won't be battle ready again for a while. The three of us are soon dressed and ready to go, the body container loaded into the pod.
Shelby flies the pod out of the bay, Palmer and I holding on to specially designed points on the outside of the hull. The pod holds two, but four can ride along outside. It's a quick trip out to Bainbridge.
The little boat is a mess. In addition to the big hole in the front just under the command deck, there are numerous dents, small and large. One big object hit near the docking collar, it's unlikely she could have attached herself to Yorktown even if Shelby had tried. I have Powell stop the engineers. Even if we get the reactor started, nobody could possibly fly her.
We get back in through the big hole. I stop the two of them.
"You aren't going to like what you're about to see. Tony, this is top secret. Regulation 222, you may tell no one not above you in your direct chain of command. Understood?"
"Yes, sir. What am I about to see if I may ask?"
"A body, Mr. Palmer, not a human being."
He doesn't respond. We push the container to the rear of the command deck, and then down to the docking collar. There are droplets of red in the air the last few feet, but not bad. Upside down, the body could almost pass for human, certainly would if you just took a quick glance.
I think for a second about not letting them see, then I intentionally flip the body over. Neither of them says anything, or they had their transmitters off. Tony opens the container, and we put it inside.
"There's more of them?" Tony asks a legitimate question.
"Aye, and we have no idea how many. It took three shots to the heart and one to the head to put it down."
We're quiet all the way back to Yorktown. We stow the body in the freezer, next to the two of our own.
Palmer gets to work organizing his survey teams for the debris field and Bainbridge, now that he knows what to look for.
I call McAdams to join me and Shelby in my ready room. It's movie night, but I don't have any popcorn. I do offer them tea, then we put my suit cam video up on screen and watch. McAdams appears excited, Shelby has her disgusted face on. I can barely watch it a second time. We repeat with Yeager's cam, and then the photos from the high def camera.
Definitely Lt. Dempsey standing there with his head shaved. We also come to the conclusion that they were firing civilian ammo which wouldn't have penetrated our suits except at close range. However, whatever they were rolling in at the end was not something we recognized, though we all agree it was a weapon.
I don't have much to say when we're done, so I just give an order.
"Once the site survey is complete, we're going home." Both of my officers relax considerably at that. "Give me options on bringing Bainbridge with us. I'm going to assume that every battle group in the Navy is going to go into Gamma Nu, let's not worry about any future battle plans. By the regs you two, nobody knows anything, nobody says anything. The three of us, Tony, Yeager, and Olivia are it. ChiNO is the only person in the universe that can authorize a disclosure. If you even mention Reg 222 to someone without a need to know, it's a Court Martial."
"Aye, Skipper." McAdams responds, Shelby doesn't have to.
"Any luck on your experiments, Courtney?"
"Sorry, skipper, I almost forgot." She reaches to her pad, hits the screen a few times, and mine beeps. She taps my screen a couple times and sound plays. It sounds like human speech with an almost French flow to it, modified with a few of what Hawaiians would call okinas. Forty five to fifty seconds worth, 25 words roughly.
When it's done, Courtney goes on. "That's the five seconds from Orion. No doubt in my mind we can figure out how to translate their language, and maybe even computer generate responses once we have enough data."
"I'm impressed Ensign. Put together a package on this, you'll be presenting it to the boss once we're home." The blue eyes light up.
"Aye, sir, thank you. I can't take all the credit, Olivia is amazing." I nod my understanding.
"On your way now, Ensign, see if there's anything interesting in the data stream from the Marines."
"Aye, skipper." And she's off. Once we get home, she's not coming back with us, I calculate a 99.9 percent probability that ChiNO will be adding a shiny new blonde Lieutenant to his staff and I'll be looking for a replacement. The only good thing is I just realized she hasn't cut her hair since we started this, it's touching her shoulders now on its way south. Worth a wry smile.
Shelby's gone back to giving me dirty looks, lets her look speak as soon as the hatch seals. Then she actually speaks.
"Katana, I am not letting you out of my sight again. Do you realize how close you came to making everyone call me ‘skipper'?"
"I had to be there, Shel, I had to be, and you know it." I pause, she fills.
"Gym?"
I laugh, let her know I'll meet her there. We float off to our respective quarters to get into our workout clothes, then work up a sweat. I wonder if mine is radioactive.
An hour and a half later, exercised, showered, and properly dressed, we meet back on the bridge. McAdams floats over to tell us that Palmer's team found nothing of interest on board the ruined corvette, and, so far at least, nothing of interest in the debris field. They are, however, using the sloop to expand the search radius outside of the usual parameters.
Our battle group is now within visual range, we watch Garcia and Wallace coordinate thei
r approach and make plans to dock the corvettes. The wreck of Bainbridge off the starboard side complicates it a little, but eventually all three are docked, and Mendoza has shuttled over from Santa Cruz.
We pack the three corvette skippers, Julio, Shelby and me into my ready room. I pass around tea to everyone except coffee for Julio. I forgot last time that he doesn't like tea, and he was too polite to remind me.
They are looking at me, I know they want an explanation. I've spent the last couple hours working on one.
"Mission went as planned at first. We found ore and various basic supplies in the cargo holds, until the crew found us. During a little fire fight, we ducked into compartment four, found a big surprise and flew it out of there. Yorktown took Defino out, and here we are. Other than finding Bainbridge, we did not solve life's mysteries."
Hate lying to them, but the alternative is maybe worse. The length of time a secret stays a secret is inversely related to the cube of the number of people who know it, and we're already at six. Especially a secret that might just change the life of every single living human being.
"We're going home. I deem the discovery of Bainbridge worthy of at least a quick trip back, and we're all going." I try to make that sound final. It doesn't work.
"Sir," it's Lieutenant Rivera, skipper of Decatur, "mission parameters would seem to dictate some or all of us stay behind." She's technically correct.
"My call, Lieutenant. We got lucky once and took Orion down with laser fire, but I don't believe it's safe for any of you here without Yorktown and her missile batteries, no matter what our command authority put in the orders. I'm not even sure it's safe with us here."
Summerlin's about to add something, I look him quiet.
"That's it folks. We have to get our Marines back on board, no ETA from them yet. Wheels up as soon as possible, go prep your ships. Commander Perez will relay course and speed. Rivera, Summerlin, Maxwell, you're swimming this time, no room to ride. If you have any ideas on attaching Bainbridge, let us know."
They float out, I nudge Shelby and she and I take up the rear. No reason Yorktown isn't 100 percent battle worthy, and ready to jump, but we've thought that before as well. I make Shelby oversee the checks, so I can sit with McAdams and Gomez, chatting about the impossible.
Rivera and Summerlin pop onto the bridge about 15 minutes later. They didn't go back to their ships immediately, instead hid in the ward room and sketched out a system to attach the damaged corvette. Seems that we're not the first crew to have the problem, just not something I've run into before, and it's not in The Book.
I thank them, send them on their way, and float to Engineering to get them to work with a welding torch.
Over the next four hours we manage to check our ship systems, weld Bainbridge to a lattice attached to the top docking port, and retrieve our Marines, empty-handed.
It's time to go. Thirty two minutes to launch window, or wait another orbit. We're strapped in, doing our last coordination checks to make sure we don't rear end each other when McAdams makes us jump, again.
"New target, bearing 000 relative, distance 250,000 kilometers. She just jumped into the system, skipper." There's a pause. "It's Roenicke."
"Confirm, Ensign."
"Confirmed sir, it's definitely Roenicke. Admiral Bode's ship."
I already knew that. Who else but a desk jockey would be stupid enough to jump openly into orbit around the only planet in an entire system, when that planet is likely a war zone? Savannah Roenicke gave her life while in command of a cruiser at the battle of Delta Rho, took out two Dynasty battleships, saved the Union fleet, and maybe the whole Union. She would never have made such an error.
I go to the comm panel on my overhead, heat up the radios.
"Roenicke, this is Yorktown, do you read? Over."
"Yorktown, this is Roenicke, stand by for Admiral Bode." Another one who won't answer his own phone.
"Roger, Roenicke, standing by."
"Krieger," his voice does have the perfect tone for a commander, I'll give him that, "hold station, I'm coming aboard. Have your squadron commanders join us."
"Affirmative, Admiral, awaiting your arrival."
"Ninety minutes. Roenicke out."
The only way we can hook the three corvettes back to Yorktown now is for both the ZR and the LS to be cut loose. I simplify things and just have their crews take them out for a spin, then we park Congress, Truxton, and Decatur. Mendoza pods back over, joins us on the bridge.
Roenicke's pilot coordinates with Garcia, parks them carefully a hundred meters beneath the boat deck. I head down to meet the incoming shuttle, his ship not content with the usual pods.
He steps off, and stops. My bad, he's obviously expecting to be piped aboard, maybe an honor guard, instead he has a me, dressed in my usual dark blue enlisted space casual uniform.
He looks at me, doesn't salute so I continue to hold mine. He has mag boots on, literally walks my way while I remain frozen, stops in front of me, turns so that we're chest to face, and looks down at me. I am smart enough not to break position and look up.
"Krieger." He says it kind of like my mom used to say ‘Katana' when I was in big trouble. "You've lost another corvette?"
I'm still locked in salute, pretty sure I shouldn't talk yet. He waits another few seconds to increase my discomfort, then returns the salute. I break mine, but stay at attention.
"No sir, found Bainbridge."
"Found the hulk of Bainbridge you mean. Any crew survive?"
"No sir." He's got the mag boots, I'm the one trying to stay at attention. My thigh muscles are screaming at me.
"That's what I thought. The President was right." I am scared all of a sudden by what that means. "Take me to your bridge."
"Yes, sir, if you'll follow me, sir." It's a long trek down to the stern on deck five, up to four, toward the bow, then up to three, the Admiral silent, an equally silent aide and a steely faced Marine escort taking up the rear. Don't know if there is a specific protocol for escorting an Admiral through a frigate, Benson and Everingham just went where they needed to be or had me follow. Whatever he thinks it is, I'm sure I broke it nine times.
I float onto the bridge first, announcing, "Admiral on the bridge."
Most of my crew were smart enough to clear out before he got there. There's Garcia at the pilot station, Manuel at RISTA, the three corvette captains, Shelby and Julio. All standing at attention, saluting. He returns these instantly, and gives them an "At ease."
"Your ready room, now." He wasn't looking at me, but I'm the only one with a ready room. I float over, open the door, wait until he enters, follow, and then guide everyone in. This room is not really made for nine people.
"Status?" Again, he's not looking at me, but I assume he's talking to me.
"We were 30 minutes from launch window to jump point when you appeared, Admiral."
"Nu or Upsilon?"
"Earth, sir."
"What!" His face is red, that giant nose could lead reindeer through a blizzard in it's present condition, the entire ship might have heard the exclamation.
"Taking Bainbridge home, sir, we...." I don't get to finish my sentence.
"Jumping home in the middle of battle to deliver a wreck? Never." His voice becomes steel, the anger tight in it, coiled. "I knew you weren't up to this mission. Admiral Showalter must have known it to when he sent Santa Cruz here against orders."
"Sir, it is vital we get home to brief ChiNO." Showalter's in trouble on my account. Can't let that stand either.
Bode's back to yelling, moving closer while doing it. "There's going to be a new Chief of Naval Operations when this comes to light. The President was right, I was needed here."
"Sir, let me...." He towers over me, cutting me off.
"Let me tell you, Captain," he says the last word with total disdain. "Anything out of your mouth other than ‘yes, sir' and you will find yourself instantly in the brig on Roenicke. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. You are going home, just you and Yorktown. You will show Everingham your prize and have one last moment of glory before you are relieved of command. Do you understand?"
"Yes, sir."
"You will take the next launch window, transferring command of your battle group to me. Understood?"
"Yes, sir."
He stops. Looks around the room.
"The rest of you return to your ships now. Roenicke will assume a new orbit, you will re- form around her within the hour. Understood?"
A chorus of ‘yes sirs' rings out, even from Shelby who isn't going anywhere. He flies out onto the bridge, his aides scrambling to follow. The remaining skippers look at me.
Yorktown: Katana Krieger #1 Page 22
