“Senior Lieutenant Orlova…”
“Cut that out, as well,” Cooper said. “My darling wife is right. What the hell could you have done back there on the station? You were outnumbered, and you managed to shoot your way out of the mess and get Maggie to safety. I’ve known her for years, I consider her a friend, and I am qualified in numerous unarmed combat techniques. Do you really think we would be standing here talking if I thought you had failed in any way?”
Managing a thin smile, Salazar replied, “I guess not.”
Gesturing at the pods, Bradley said, “Here to work off some aggression?”
“I thought I might.”
“Mind fighting against some human opposition? I’ve been trying out the drone fighters. Ryder put some new programs into the system when she brought them on board.”
“I haven’t had a chance, yet,” he said, but he walked over to the pod.
“No time like the present. Why don’t we see what happens when two drone squadrons face each other. If the idea takes off, we might find that out soon enough.”
“I don’t know whether to hope it does or not,” he replied.
“Trust me, Sub-Lieutenant, anything which increases the chance of people living through battle is a very good thing,” Cooper said. “Besides, even this grunt can see that there are numerous advantages to remote operation. I can’t understand why they haven’t thought of it before now.”
“Too many Admirals remember the good old days when they rode fire, and forgot how many of their friends didn’t live to reach their exalted heights,” Bradley said. “I’ll take Blue, you take Red. I had it set up for Ragnarok, that suit?”
“Fine by me,” Salazar replied. He stepped into the pod, sliding down into the pouch, and slid his datakey into the pad, the controls sliding about in the cockpit to his preferred configuration. Several displays remained in their assigned slots, the relay controls for the drone fighters. He hadn’t had time to practice, but he had brushed up on the manuals. The system seemed straightforward enough, a menu of formations to choose from as well as custom settings, options to set the aggression of the drone autopilots, lock in key targets, items to avoid.
He was in a Wanderer-class Shuttle, a standard design type, with a simulated pilot to fly him around. That meant he could concentrate on his squadron, and while he was waiting for Bradley to log in, he gave them a few experimental commands, watching them dart around at his instruction, while his shuttle remained in the heart of the formation. They seemed to dance across the sky in comparison to normal designs. Taking out the life-system and the cockpit made quite a difference to the power/weight ratio.
“Blue Leader to Red Leader,” Bradley said. “I’ve logged in, and Cooper’s reset everything to zero. Are you ready?”
“All ready here, Blue Leader,” he replied. “Ready when you signal.”
“Let’s do this.”
The comm chatter ceased, and Salazar looked at his sensor display. No sign of the target, which must mean that they were on the far side of the planet. He wasn’t in any rush to engage, right now his time would be spent far more profitably getting his own forces in position. He tapped a control to send one of his fighters out, spending its fuel recklessly to get it up to a point where it could monitor the far side of the planet, switching the others into a five-cornered formation around his shuttle, slowly gaining speed.
With one eye on the sensors, he quickly set up an attack run, going through a simulated drill while he waited for Bradley to launch her move. His scout flew up into position, and after a minute he could see her coming, her fighters slowing down to come in under him, close to the planet. Getting down into the gravity well was a brave move, but it didn’t give either of them much to work with.
Swiping a control, he let his formation drift apart, curving into a cone that could envelop the enemy forces. The single scout he left in position for a second, then, with a smile, changed its course to send it hurtling towards Bradley’s formation. At the speed it would reach, there would be little time for it to correct its course, no time to slow down, and only a very brief firing window, but that didn’t matter. Either Bradley would have to spend ordinance to stop him, or she’d spend fuel getting out of the way, and he still had two missiles now on the far side of the planet to play with.
He’d never have ordered a pilot to make so risky a move, but having unmanned fighters allowed him to take greater risks. If it made it through the maneuver, it could be recovered eventually, even if it ended up in a crazy orbit, and if it didn’t, they could always build another one.
Instead of choosing one option or another, Bradley opted to split the difference. Two of her fighters moved in to close on the approaching target, while the others broke off, gaining altitude to rise over them. Salazar could have altered his course to match, but instead he focused on the two targets he had been given, tweaking the trajectory to a collision course, and unleashing his missiles at the precise second.
The whole thing was over faster than he could react. His fighter exploded, two missiles slamming into it, but while Bradley still had both of hers still intact, they’d split away from the rest of the formation. If he moved quickly, he’d have a numerical advantage, and he threw the engines of his fighters onto full, watching them fly away from his shuttle. It was still difficult to appreciate how much faster they were than conventional designs, and they were set up for an attack run remarkably quickly.
Bradley was still keeping her remaining fighters tight to her side, in one single formation, as though she was flying them as a single, larger ship. He smiled, and spread out his craft again. That was her weak spot. She was flying one fighter with eight missiles, he was flying five with ten, and his ships cruised out around her, lining up for an attack.
This time there was plenty of firing time, lots of opportunity to match velocities. Bradley’s remaining two craft were running their engines hard to catch up, but they wouldn’t be there in time, and nine missiles flew into the air, the autopilots moving into random walk sequences to dodge them, while he furiously worked on the countermeasures package, trying to cut down the odds.
Trajectory tracks interlaced with each other. He wasn’t worrying about protecting his missiles, he had a second wave if he needed it, focusing instead on knocking down those of the enemy. Two, then three exploded as he broke through the firewalls, triggering the self-destruct systems that prevented him simply taking control of them for himself.
Reaching across to a control, he fired his second salvo as the first struck home, knocking two of the enemy fighters out of the sky. He still had four left, four missiles against two, and the end came quickly, fire blossoming across the sky. One missile remained, diving towards Bradley’s shuttle.
“Red Leader invites Blue Leader to surrender,” he said,
“I don’t think she has much choice,” Marshall said, breaking into the channel.
“Beat me to it, sir,” Bradley said, and the display whited out. Snatching his key, Salazar jumped out of the pod as it cracked open, standing to attention on the deck. The Captain was waiting for him, a smile on his face and a datapad in his hand.
“At ease, Sub-Lieutenant,” he said. “I just got a report from Lieutenant Grant…”
Cooper broke in, and said, “Hell, if he doesn’t want him, I’ll take him. I could use a second-in-command.”
“Not so fast, Ensign,” Marshall said. “There is no record of any transmission being sent, Sub-Lieutenant, but you know that.”
“I do, sir. My conclusion is that someone falsified the logs.”
Nodding, he replied, “I think you are right. I’ve got an investigation starting up right now, though I already think I know the answer.” Cooper frowned and made to speak, but Marshall silenced him with a raised hand, “No need to go into that here, Ensign.”
“Aye, sir.”
“In any event, you’ve just so
lved two of my problems at once, Sub-Lieutenant, and for that I am rather grateful. Mr. Grant has indicated that he no longer wants you on the bridge staff. My expectation is that Senior Lieutenant Orlova will countermand that order when she resumes her post…”
“You could do that right now, sir,” Bradley said.
Shaking his head, he replied, “I could, but without relieving Mr. Grant, I suspect matters would be unchanged. I do not intend to take such a step. Besides, Sub-Lieutenant, I have a more important job for you. Grant can take Alpha Watch for a while. You’re going to take the drone fighters.”
Cooper beamed, and said, “I think that’s an excellent choice, sir. Not that I know anything about it.”
“Well, I do,” Bradley said, “and I agree. He certainly sent me back to school.”
“Consider yourself on these simulators full time,” Marshall said. “I’ll try and arrange for some sparring partners for you. It wouldn’t be good to face the computers every time. I might even sneak in a session myself.”
“I’d like that, sir. Facing an Ace in combat…”
“And beating him?” he said with a smile. “Anyway, go over the specs again, and start some practice simulations. I’ll see that you get some more up-to-date information on what you are going to be up against. Frank Nelyubov will be along with the data shortly. I’ll see about getting a co-pilot assigned.” Glancing across at Cooper, he said, “Carry on,” then left the room.
Shaking his head, Cooper said, “That isn’t going to go down well.”
“Let me guess,” Bradley said, “Grant thought he was going to get the job.”
“He certainly lobbied hard enough for it.”
Looking down at the simulators, Salazar said, “Crazy how a day can turn right around. I never thought I’d actually get to fly fighters in action.”
Clapping him on the shoulder, Bradley said, “I’m happy to have you as our first defense.” Stepping back into the simulator pod, she continued, “We’re both off-duty for a while. Gabe, why don’t you punch something interesting into the computer, and we’ll see about making it best of three?”
Chapter 12
Marshall grunted as he climbed up the service tunnel, heading for Harper’s unofficial quarters. When she first reported on board, she’d moved out of her assigned bunk within a matter of hours, finding herself a hiding place in a little-used maintenance point, and as a reward for services rendered at Jefferson, Marshall had made it as official as he dared.
She’d outfitted the place surprisingly well, a hammock slung in the midst of a tangle of fiberoptic cables and terminals, and she was lounging back, half-asleep, as he settled down on a half-empty crate of emergency rations beside her.
“Morning, Captain,” she said, opening an eye.
He shook his head, and replied, “I can’t believe you’re choosing to live here. You realize that I could assign you your own room, now. Even your official rank is high enough that you wouldn’t have to share. If that’s the problem.”
“I like it here. I’m out of everyone’s way but also in the middle of everything. What else could I want?”
“I suppose I see what you mean,” he said. “Still, I think I’ll keep my stateroom.”
“Maybe when I become a Captain I’ll think the same way.”
Frowning, he said, “Don’t take this the wrong way, but…”
“You don’t see me as command material?” She giggled, then said, “Relax, sir, I wouldn’t have your job for all the credits in the Treasury. I’ve got enough cares as it is. What can I do for you? I presume it is something top, top secret.”
Looking around, he said, “My guess is that this is the most secure place in the ship.”
“You’d be right about that.” Lounging back, she said, "You always surprise me. I mean, Logan’s one thing. He’s playing a role, but you’re the real thing. A starship captain. I’d always assumed that you’d all be ramrod-straight discipline nuts. Like my father.”
He smiled, then said, “Maybe we’ll all get that way eventually. I’ve gone rogue on more than one occasion myself, though I don’t make a lifestyle out of it like you do. Let’s be honest. If I was to attempt to use Service discipline on you, you’d either get yourself transferred somewhere else, or I’d end up putting you under arrest.”
“That’s true.”
“So I might as well consider you as an asset to my ship, and treat you accordingly. As far as I’m concerned, you’ve proven yourself enough times that I’m willing to trust you. And as strange as it sounds, I’ll trust Logan’s judgment as well. If he’s given you Ultra clearance, then I presume there’s a good reason for that.”
“Thanks,” she said.
“Don’t let me down. That’s all I ask.” Looking down the shaft, he said, “Are you absolutely sure that this place is secure?”
“We’re dead if it isn’t. I’ve got this place protected with the absolute latest in Triplanetary security. A generation ahead of the systems that protect Alamo.” Forestalling him, she added, “I can tap one command and upgrade the ship if needed.”
“Why not now?”
“The sooner they go into mass deployment, the sooner someone will try to tap them. I’d rather keep enhanced electronic defenses on hand as a nice surprise for someone, rather than giving them a chance to snoop them out in advance. Protecting a little cubbyhole like this won’t attract any attention. Rigging them up to the bridge would.”
Nodding, he said, “You see what I mean?”
“I guess I do. So, now that we’ve established that no-one can overhear a word you are saying, how can I help you?”
“Sub-Lieutenant Salazar was being unusually thorough during hendecaspace entry, and he picked up on a high-bandwidth transmission being sent from Alamo. My guess is to the station, though I suppose it could have been heading for one of the transports.”
“You aren’t worried about the destination, you’re worried about the content of the message Meirong sent.”
He frowned, and said, “Did you…”
“She’s by far the most likely candidate. And a lot better than I thought, if she managed to get past my security programming. I’ve been watching for this myself.” Reaching up for a terminal, she started to type, and said, “Nothing in the system, but that doesn’t mean a damn thing. Though I can see some clumsy attempts at digging. You put anyone on it?”
“No. I didn’t see the point.”
“Interesting.” She frowned, then said, “Watch Officer’s station, on the bridge. Looks like Grant.” Shaking her head, she said, “He really doesn’t know what he’s doing. Hacking-by-numbers. Someone ought to get him a remedial course. Hell, he’s supposed to know something about this in fighters.”
“Never mind about that. Are you suggesting that he’s involved?”
“Not for a second. Just that he’s on the case as well, though given that the last attempt to access was a good three hours ago, I don’t think he went very far with it. My guess is that you have some wild accusations heading your way about Salazar.”
Rolling his eyes, Marshall said, “Not you too.”
“None of my business how you run your ship, Captain. Just tell me what you want hacked, and I’ll do the job. Speaking of which, I think I’ve got it. Latest Republic encryption, at least the latest we know about. To an operative on Houston Station.” She shrugged, and said, “Not one we were watching, but that isn’t really a surprise. One-shot deep-cover at a guess.”
“What does the message say?”
“Wait one,” she said. “I’m doing this without anyone else noticing, so I’m stealing processor time from other systems. Pass me a drink, will you?”
He reached into a box by his side, rummaging around, and asked, “Which one?”
“The purple one.”
“Rather you than me.” Pulling out one of the bottles, he p
assed it over to her, and she took a deep swig. “Are you in for the long haul?”
“It’s been made perfectly clear that you don’t just resign from Intelligence.”
“That doesn’t mean you have to stay in the Fleet.”
“True.” She paused, then said, “I guess it depends where I end up. Granted I perhaps have rather more options than most on that one. If I can serve under someone I respect, someone I get along with…”
“Someone willing to put up with your unorthodox habits,” he added.
She smiled, then said, “Then I don’t mind shipping out. You, Logan, Maggie. Maybe Frank.” She shrugged, continuing, “Might extend the list. Base it on who I meet.”
“That’s an interesting condition. Not something that we usually recommend.”
Waving around, she said, “Here I get to do something fun, and it helps out other people. That’s a double-win for me. I get the best kit to play with, and I’m not just wasting my time messing about. You’re good at that, and…” She paused, then said, “Got it.”
“Well?”
“Lots of tactical data. I’ll dump it on a secure datapad. Short version is that we’re getting reinforcements.”
“What?” he said, his eyes widening.
“Republic Battlecruiser Zheng He. That’s the flagship, isn’t it?”
“First of a new class, right from the shipyards. Which from my recollection of the technical specs, is suspiciously similar to Alamo.”
“No fighters, slightly smaller, slightly longer endurance. I’ll dump everything we know into your terminal, but a lot of it is guesswork.”
He frowned, and said, “Shouldn’t I have it already?”
“Brass takes a lot of the theories out, usually just keeps in the stuff we’re sure about. That can make for some short files. If you don’t have any objection to some of it being wrong, you might find it useful.”
“I’ll take it,” he said. “I presume…”
Battlecruiser Alamo: Not In My Name Page 10
