by Chris Hechtl
“I think you mangled that quote all to hell, Rob,” Theo replied with a shake of his head. “I think shipping them out somewhere is a good idea. Just getting them behind enemy lines would be nice, think of the havoc they'd unleash!”
“It'd definitely make the Feds turn their attention internally until they solved them. And the clowns are just that sort of group to fight an insurgency,” the countess murmured thoughtfully.
“Look into it. See if we have to stick them in stasis. Send them to your people you've got embedded, Sabina,” Theo ordered. She grimaced but then nodded as she made a note on her tablet.
There was a beep and then a voice cleared over the intercom. “Yes?” Theo demanded in a growl. “I thought I told you not to disturb us?”
“Sir, sorry, sir, there has been a development. A pair of couriers have appeared at the jump point. They have critical news, and we're getting the download now.”
“Frack,” the minister of war said as heads looked at each other in alarm.
Their concerns for domestic tranquility all fell to the wayside when the downloads were processed.
The pair of ships had arrived at the jump point within hours of each other. Apparently, one of the couriers had suffered an engineering casualty on the route to Horath after leaving Garth, forcing her to slow down.
The arrival of the couriers with the shocking news of the battle of B-95a3 sent the Imperial Admiralty into instant shock.
“This obviously hasn't been confirmed,” Theo said slowly. “But, we have to do something.”
“You’re damn right we do!” Admiral Cartwright said. He wasn't just alarmed by the lost battle but also by the lost ships. He looked at the list of lost ships again and swore.
“Star Mauler and Archangel! Son of a bitch!”
“Are you serious?” Rob demanded, good eye bugging out in shock. His skin paled noticeably.
“Yeah,” Malwin snarled, fists clenching. “Son of a fracking bitch!” he snarled before his fist pounded the table top.
Theo studied him and then turned to the others. Clearly, Malwin was seething over the loss. “I think we need to take a break and process this.” Heads nodded as they rose to their feet and exited the room quietly. Malwin sat in the chair; hand over his mouth as he tried to think of what had just happened and how bad things were going to go from there.
:::{)(}:::
The emperor stared at his admirals and cabinet ministers as he absorbed the news. “He lost a dreadnought and my son to a force of battle cruisers?” he demanded. He wasn't even considering how to break the news to the rest of the family at the moment; he was just too caught up in anger.
Malwin shook his head. “With respect, sire, he didn't lose them to just battle cruisers. The enemy sent their own dreadnoughts. Two of them.”
“But, how …?”
“We're looking into it. At the moment that matters less than what we do from here,” the prime minister stated. Theo nodded in support.
“It damn well matters to me!” the emperor snarled. “What the hell happened? How could this have gone so wrong so fast?”
Countess Newberry cleared her throat to get their attention. It worked, all eyes turned to her. “I believe, based on what data we've gotten from the courier, that my people have identified one of the ships as an ancient Tauren battleship. That one we've identified as this Bismark, but the other is quite possibly new construction. We haven't found mention of a similar derelict hull in the sector.”
The emperor stared at her for a long moment. “You are telling me, they not only rebuilt that hulk, but built another in how long?” he said, voice going from a soft tone to a hard one by the end of the sentence.
“And got it to B-95a3 to chase Admiral De Gaulte out of the star system. This Second Fleet chewed up Cyrano pretty well. He barely escaped with a fraction of his force,” Ahab said with a shake of his head.
“Based on our initial read, he was lucky to escape at all. That was a well-laid ambush. They used their speed advantage and logistics to pin him against a known objective he was retreating to, the jump point. He couldn't slow down without getting torn up from behind. He took heavy losses in escaping. If Star Mauler hadn't turned around, he might have lost everything,” Countess Newberry stated. She winced internally as she remembered she had just reminded the emperor all over again at the loss of his other son.
“Damn it!” the emperor snarled; fists balled in impotent rage. His nostrils flared in barely suppressed rage and contempt at how things had gone. He didn't need the reminder that he'd lost not one but two sons.
His staff looked at each other before Theo realized he had to take the bull by the horns and be the one to chance the emperor's further ire. No one else seemed ready to do it so it was up to him he thought grimly.
“Sire, I don't like reinforcing failure, but Cyrano's reports are solid. He also has a point about how much damage his forces have sustained. He is down to three capital ships; Nimitz is effectively out of the fight unless he can scare up fresh fighters. Even if he does, they would be questionable at best.” Malwin nodded in support. The emperor's eyes cut to him and then back to his minister of war. “If the enemy can get their own forces resupplied, they could be breaking into Dead Drop right now. We need to get reinforcements in there to stop them.”
“But …,”
“Sire, his flagship and battle cruisers have all taken a pounding. If he can't get the support he needs, he'll be forced to retreat still further, compressing our perimeter. It is already uncomfortably close to the homeworld as it is …,” the prime minister pleaded.
“Damn … can he do anything right?” the emperor demanded. He wanted to snarl at Frank for only protecting his holdings in Garth but the man had a point.
“I know we thought Rho would be simple. This was supposed to be the first step. That we'd have time to get our feet under us and transition to a proper battle fleet. Obviously,” the admiral looked around the room, “our assumptions were off base.”
“No plan survives contact with the enemy. We knew there would be resistance inevitably but not organized and right on our doorstep.” Theo said as he shook his head.
“Now we need to adapt. We need to do it fast,” the countess pressed. “Time is of the essence.”
Heads nodded around the room. “The longer we wait, the more time they have to hit him, sire,” Theo warned.
“We need to hit back. Throw them on the defense,” the emperor insisted. “Buy time that way.”
Theo cocked his head as if he was considering that. Finally, he nodded. “We can, eventually. For the moment, we need to salvage what we can or all will be lost.”
“You want an offense. We can go in but that will take time—months, potentially years to get forces in position to strike through Sigma, Pi, or south to Pyrax. And our last outings to Pyrax have apparently not gone well, Otherwise, we wouldn't have seen those dreadnoughts up north banging on our doorstep,” the home secretary pointed out. He blotted at his forehead with a lacy handkerchief.
“True,” Malwin admitted. “We only just started scouting south.”
“It is too soon to get anything back from them,” Theo said. Malwin nodded.
“Anything at all from intelligence?” the home secretary demanded.
Sabina shook her head and spread her hands. “I can't give you what I don't know. We don't have much intel from behind the lines. What we do have is old, and we've already gone over it a fare-the-well. I've started the process of getting more information through Pi and Sigma, but that takes time.”
“The best way to throw them off is with raids. We can get the Gather Fleet involved there. Send out orders through the courier network to raid and scout them. But that takes time,” Ahab said slowly. “I'll issue the orders of course.”
“We already did,” Malwin reminded him.
“Get the ball rolling in both directions,” Admiral Theo said with a nod to the praetors.
“Meanwhile, they are practically at our
door!” the emperor snarled as he stared at the star chart. “We need fallback positions. We don't know if De Gaulte held. He could be running here with his tail between his legs,” he snarled, fists clenching on the gilded arm rests of his chair.
“This will shake the pirate lords heavily, especially those with holdings in those star systems. The assembly will …,” Theo shook his head and avoided looking at the prime minister.
“We'll deal with it by showing decisive action. Now. How we go about that and with what forces remains the current problem …,” the emperor stated. “But, I want this Second Fleet stopped! No, I want it crushed!” he thundered, rising to his feet.
“Then we need to send overwhelming forces, not a stopgap measure, sire,” Theo said calmly and evenly. The other cabinet ministers all nodded in support.
The emperor took their measure. His face stilled from the curled lip he was about to sneer at the man. Instead he sat slowly, as if recognizing the other man's message for the first time. “Very well, what do you have in mind?”
:::{)(}:::
“He is floundering. Flaying about, looking for blame and not focused on the danger of the situation right under his nose. Did you see how some were tempted to hold back? We can't have that now. We can't be yes men. We need the right information no matter how unpalatable. And we need realism,” Theo said after the meeting.
“Agreed. He'll come around or …” Malwin grimaced and then shrugged. “I agree, the temptation to just hold back was growing, but we need to do something or everything we and our ancestors have been planning for centuries will blow up in our face,” he said. “I admit, until you stood up to him I was afraid to.”
“I noticed.”
Malwin grunted. Like Theo and Sabina, he was a student of history, true history. The history of both Horath and the Federation. His family had gotten copies, illegal now, but proper copies of the historical archives and insisted each generation read them and understand them. Which was why he was a realist and appreciated what Theo was saying. The blunt speech from the minister of war had been surprising however.
“If we don't stand together, we'll all fall.”
“The problem is some are holding onto power while others are coveting it. And those in power are looking over their shoulders. I sometimes hate the system we're in. I was so glad we finally had the opportunity to change it. To consolidate and come out of the shadows. I was hoping once the dust cleared we'd put it all behind us. But, now … now it could all fall down around our ears.”
“And he'll be the one to help it happen with his paranoia if we're not careful,” Theo said sourly. Malwin nodded grimly in agreement.
“I'm not surprised Frank backed us. He's been playing the long game, but he knows Garth and therefore his power base is now at stake, as is the entire empire,” Sabina stated.
“Is it enough? Enough to pull all of our warring factions together against a common enemy?” Theo murmured softly.
“Count your blessings he authorized a full squadron of capital ships. We need to pack it with everything we can and get it into space before he changes his mind,” Malwin said. “I'm betting the news will leak pretty soon. We need to give every appearance of not only being aware of the problem, but also working to solve it or our own necks will be on the line. And you know damn well he will 'reluctantly' sacrifice any one of us to save his own neck.”
“Yeah,” Sabina drawled.
“I think your plan of sending singletons is sound Malwin. Get on that now. Don't bother with coordination. It's getting them stocked, manned, and on the road that counts now. Besides, it's always hard for fleets and convoys to coordinate movements in hyperspace. If we don't burn the time trying to plan it, then they'll be moving even faster.”
“Agreed. I'm canceling all leaves now. Unfortunately, half the fleet is still being refitted and a quarter is waiting to be refitted. We've got some of Ahab's ships still streaming in.”
“Don't bother sending them. They'll be useless against the Feds as they are now,” Sabina urged.
“I wasn't going to send them,” Malwin said, looking at her. “But, I am going to talk to the yard directors and have them find methods of streamlining the refit process. If that means shipping parts to the ships that are waiting and have the crews do the work on their own, so be it.”
“What about the cracks? You aren't going to ignore that problem, right?” Sabina asked.
“No,” Malwin grimaced. “No, I'm not. I think,” he frowned. She cocked an eyebrow skyward. “Sorry,” he said after a beat. “I think we need to pull out some stops. Hit hard and dig into anything we've been sitting on if we have to.”
“Such as?”
“At this point, anything the emperor will allow. Or hell, anything we can smuggle out.”
“Yeah, I don't see that happening,” Sabina murmured. “Though I bet the survivors in Dead Drop would appreciate the sentiment.”
:::{)(}:::
Captain Elvira Varbossa was pretty sure she wasn't the only one who didn't take the recent news well. Scuttlebutt said there was a lot of screaming going on at the Admiralty. She wouldn't be surprised if heads rolled for the frack up. Not that it mattered to her. Oh, she wouldn't mind seeing her family rise, but at the moment it would just put them even more in the firing line if bad news continued to pour in. Which, it was more than likely to do so.
She had just finished an inspection tour of two of the sub yards. A closer look at their logs had shown a wiring issue. She'd signaled Captain Quinn to look into it. She was pretty sure it was a quality control issue. Someone had skimped somewhere and now the navy was paying for it.
She crossed her feet on the small cutter and did her best not to touch the snoozing sailor's legs across from her as she considered what she had seen. Yard module 81 had been running line in an as-yet-named battle cruiser. The ship wasn't quite up to Federation standards, but it was one of the best her people had built to date. She would be the first in the new battle cruiser class; that was if they could iron out all the bugs in the design.
Part of the problem was the substandard materials they had to work with. It wasn't just that their materials were inferior to Federation ones, it was that some people skimped on the materials or sent junk. It sucked. At least the module's supervisor had gotten smart about having everything checked before it was installed. That had saved a lot of time and headache on his people's part.
She couldn't forget the sight of the thick, heavy gauge cables being lugged through the ship by the work party. It had been like seeing the group wrestle with an anaconda. The thick cables were not only heavy but also hard to bend. The crew had been run with synched voice calls. They could only move the cables a small set distance and only when they all worked together. Just getting the cables to bend where they should had been fun to watch. She'd picked up a couple of new swear words for her vocabulary there. And she'd thought she'd known them all by now. It just went to show that there was always something new to learn she reflected cheerfully.
Of course, none of the work party had been thrilled about having her floating around underfoot so to speak. Tough for them. Running the cable through the ship was back breaking, tiring work. She didn't envy the electricians and architects assigned to puzzle through the wiring diagrams and keep everything labeled and neat. A lot of it had been supposedly done on wiring jigs beforehand but not always.
The cable she had seen being run was a low voltage one, if you could believe it. It had been a short run, just a hundred meters. The original design had called for a small plasma conduit in the same area, but the wiring had replaced it since the wiring was easier to manufacture if not install.
She closed her eyes as she remembered the other sights she'd seen. She almost wished she hadn't. Almost. Running ODN was tough. The glass cables could easily snap when they were bent too far. Unfortunately, some had and that had meant she'd run into a lot of splices. Someone had gotten careless with the cables in their haste. Sorting out the hair-thin wiring wa
s throwing the schedule off by two days. She'd made certain that the supervisor had gotten an earful about that too. She liked to temper an attaboy compliment with a critique to get them to fix something or to remind them not to slack off. It kept them humble she thought.
“We are two minutes out from the next stop,” the pilot said over the intercom.
“Okay,” she said as she reached under her seat for her helmet. She pulled it out and then set it in her lap. She had tossed her gloves inside it, she took them out and checked them over to busy herself as the little cutter turned and then backed into the port. She felt the soft bump and then heard a hiss as the pressures equalized.
“Hard dock confirmed. You can unbelt and debark. We'll be leaving in five,” the pilot warned as she took her belt off. She immediately began to float so she reached up and caught some webbing with her free hand as she tucked her helmet under one arm. She pulled just right to lift her legs off the deck. She felt someone push her foot, most likely to keep it from hitting them in the head but she ignored it and kept her boots firmly together. She heard a mutter behind her but ignored that as well as she made her way to the opening lock.
Time for another inspection, then dinner she thought as she exited the craft. After dinner, she was working another shift, this one inspecting the refits in her sector. She definitely needed to see if they could get some of those ships out faster without cutting too many corners. If they left with a bit less frills like fresh paint, fine. Let the crew handle that she thought as she passed through the lock and into the module beyond.
“Captain, glad to see you stop in,” Jake the bald supervisor said with a nod to her.
“I see someone tattled on me,” she said with a brief smirk.
“You are a creature of habit. You don't do random often. I figured when I heard you stop by 81 you'd eventually find yourself here since the cutter stops this way afterward.”
“Ah. Are you sure you shouldn't be in intelligence or planning? You seem to have the knack,” she teased.
