by Chris Hechtl
“We'll deal with that later. So, how does the captain and commander plan to deal with the intruder?” Commodore Montgomery demanded.
“I don't know, sir. I'm asking now. I believe they are rather busy trying to do whatever they can.”
“Okay. Don't jog their elbow any more than necessary. But, I want to be kept up-to-date,” Admiral Irons growled.
“Yes, sir. I'll put it in your briefing schedule.”
“You do that. And clear my schedule of anything and everything for a while after tomorrow.”
“Sir?”
“You heard me.” Admiral Irons scowled blackly. “Gentlemen, I think we're about done here.”
“Yes, sir. What do we do about Bek?”
“That I need to figure out. We need to stop that damn factory ship first,” Admiral Irons growled.
:::{)(}:::
B-102c
For three frantic days, Commander Lafleur and the station tried to talk to Ilmarinen as she came into the system. The stationers noted that the ship was indeed on a course for the ansible, not the station. She also refused to answer any hails.
Chief Bailey and the engineers scrambled to get Rolling Thunder back into space, working around the clock. However, her missing a nacelle and sublight engine damage was a serious problem, so too was the extensive frame damage, and their attempts to pull the structure apart to make repairs prevented her from getting underway.
“There is no way we can move with this much structural damage—not and hope to get there in time,” Captain Sharp Wit stated. “Damn it!”
“You couldn't have known it was going to go down like this,” Commander Lafleur stated.
“It is what I was sent here to prevent!” the T'clock chattered, buzzing angrily.
“We're not done yet,” Chief Bailey said over the radio.
“Chief?” the commander said.
“Look out your window,” the Neochimp said.
The duo looked out to see the tugs and even one of the salvaged ships moving out to the ansible. “Chief, what is going on?”
“We're going to buy you some time,” the Neochimp growled. “Get that ship buttoned up enough to make them stand-down,” he growled.
“Chief …”
“Don't even order us to come back, Commander, no time and besides, not enough fuel.”
There was a long pause as the commander digested that. Finally, she cleared her throat. “Good luck,” she said.
“Yeah, like we'll need it.”
:::{)(}:::
Antigua
Admiral Irons paced in his office. To say he was concerned was putting it mildly. He hated not being able to do anything. He was seriously pissed at Captain Clayton and the crew of Ilmarinen. If he ever got them in a courtroom, they'd never see the light of day again. First, he had to get them there, he reminded himself. To do that they had to stop them. Obviously, the captain wasn't interested in doing it. He frowned and then something occurred to him. “What is the status in B-102c? What about Rolling Thunder?”
“She's still docked, sir,” Captain Sprite said.
Admiral Irons paced for a moment. “Ilmarinen has light weapons correct?”
“The last we knew, yes.”
“Rolling Thunder?”
“Her weapons are intact. She barely has a drive, Admiral,” the A.I. warned.
“But, Ilmarinen doesn't know that,” Admiral Irons said, looking up and over to her avatar. Slowly she nodded.
“Patch me through to them. I've got some fresh orders …”
:::{)(}:::
“Sir, the station has launched small craft to the ansible. They appear to be blocking our path,” the XO said carefully.
Captain Clayton grunted as he looked at the plot and then the main screen. It was a desperate move he noted. They'd even moved a ship in. Based on her sensor return, she didn't have her reactor functional. She was a barge in other words. He shook his head. “Stupid.”
“They are forming a globe around the station. Sir, what do we do?”
“Comm, open a channel,” the captain said gruffly.
“Channel open, sir.”
He cleared his throat and then addressed the overhead. “This won't work. Stand-down. We will follow our orders,” Captain Clayton stated firmly.
“The hell you will! You'll have to go through us first,” a gruff voice answered back. The XO shot the captain a worried look.
“We have our orders. We will obey them,” Captain Clayton growled. “You are in a tug. It's just a platform. Get over it. It's not worth your life,” he practically pleaded.
:::{)(}:::
“Yeah, well, we ain't movin',” Chief Bailey growled. He felt horrible in the damn suit. He itched all over but did his best to put such thoughts out of his mind. When he got done, he intended to take a long hot shower, hell, a bath and to hell with water conservation. He'd earned it with this stunt.
“Damn you, move or we will fire on you.”
“You are a factory ship. You've got some defense but that's it.”
“We've been upgraded. I'm ordering you as senior officer in the star system to move,” the captain growled.
“Ilmarinen this is Rolling Thunder. You will stand-down and prepare to be boarded,” a different voice said, cutting through the channel.
:::{)(}:::
B-102c
“What the hell? Sir! We're picking up the signal of another ship at the station!” the sensor tech warned.
“A bluff?”
“At this range, we can't tell. Our war book says there is a heavy cruiser, Resolution, Mark II class with that name registered, sir.”
“The hell you say,” the captain growled.
“Sorry, sir, it's the computer,” the tech said, indicating his board.
“I don't know what game you are playing, but it won't work,” Captain Clayton growled.
“Sir, if she's really who she says she is …,” the XO ventured.
“Then why is she broadcasting from the station? I'm betting it's a bluff,” the captain growled.
“Sir, fresh contacts coming in from the station!” the sensor tech reported.
“What now, more tugs?” the captain asked in exasperation. “I should order our own out to play tug-of-war but I'm not in the mood. Order them to standoff.”
“Sir, they are broadcasting an IFF. They are Federation Cobra class fighters,” the communications tech reported very carefully. “There is a pair of shuttles coming in behind them.”
“Sensors are confirming that,” the sensor tech stated in a surprised voice.
“This is Lieutenant Essay to Ilmarinen. My squadron has orders to capture or destroy your ship. So, which is it going to be, boys? You can stand-down or I can fill you full of holes until you see reason. If you attempt to maneuver or fire on the tugs, I'll tear you apart. That's a promise,” the icy voice said.
“The hell you say!” Captain Clayton bellowed as he lunged for the sensor station. “Move!” he demanded, pushing the startled tech aside to get a good look at the plot. He played with the controls until he realized there was no use in denying it.
“It's a bluff,” a tech said. “Isn't it?”
“It's no bluff. I bet the heavy cruiser launched them. We can't get clear of them,” the XO said, voice filled with loathing. “Captain, for the safety of the ship and crew, I strongly urge you to stand-down.”
“Surrender, Captain Clayton. That is your only option,” Lieutenant Essay said over the intercom before another voice interrupted.
“Captain Clayton is hereby relieved of command,” Admiral Irons broadcast came from the ansible platform.
All eyes on the bridge suddenly fell on the captain.
“Sir, you can't do that. I did nothing wrong,” Captain Clayton insisted over the open channel.
“Don't feed me that crap, Captain; you should know better. The charges and specifications will include mutiny and attempting to destroy naval property among others,” the admiral's voice said. It came out w
ith a robotic inflection since it was a conversion from text to speech, but everyone who heard it could still feel the snarl in the tone just from the wording. More than one person winced at that.
“Lieutenant Essay, Chief Bailey, get Ilmarinen squared away now. I'll contact you when I have something more. Irons out.”
“Aye aye, sir,” the XO said. He turned to the Marine. “You heard the admiral,” he said, indicating the captain. “Confine the captain to quarters. Not his own, use a junior's.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Not his own?” a tech asked softly to another.
“There are remote controls in his quarters,” the other tech replied.
“As you were,” the XO barked as the fighters formed up around the factory ship. He zoomed in to see them and grimaced. They were indeed Cobra fighters.
“There is going to be hell to pay over this,” he murmured. Captain Clayton looked over his shoulder to see the image of the fighters and the shuttles coming in to dock with his ship and his shoulders slumped in defeat. All for naught, he thought as he passively let the Marine lead him off the bridge.
:::{)(}:::
Antigua
“Now what?” Captain Sprite asked as they all sighed a collective sigh of relief at the news that Ilmarinen was secure.
“Now we find a way to end this,” Admiral Irons stated.
“How do you propose we do that, sir?” Commodore Montgomery asked carefully.
“You aren't going to like the answer,” Admiral Irons stated, coming to a decision. It was the only way, the only way to end the conflict quickly and decisively. But, getting there …
“You’re right. If you are even considering what I think you are, I'm not going to like it a lot,” Monty said, staring at him.
Admiral Irons smiled. “Captain, prep that courier we've got on standby. I want her ready to move. I want everyone we can spare from the Bureau and NCIS on board. And I've got orders for Phil. I want at least three ships on their way to B101a1 within six hours. I want at least two of them to be battle cruisers. The third is to be the cruiser that Captain Perth just took command of.”
“You aren't seriously—Admiral, this is insane!” Sprite protested.
“Game it out if you want,” Admiral Irons said as he rose. “You've got twenty-four hours to get everyone moving. I'm going to write specific orders for what to do while I'm gone.”
“You are going,” Monty said in disbelief. “Admiral, with all due respect, the system is in a state of civil war! Two battle cruisers and what, a heavy cruiser that can't do anything to stop it! Not with that sort of firepower they've got!”
“Ah, but they are just insurance for me to get in. Both Moira and Yorgi kept saying that the only person who can get rid of Childress is me.”
“You are seriously going to do this. Admiral, we can't fit many in a courier. And you'll need to be careful,” Sprite said.
“I know. Believe me I know.”
“You are going to just do it. Up and leave. You are the president, Admiral!” Monty said with a shake of his head.
“And that's why I can get away with it. I'm not asking for your opinions, I'm telling you as your commander in chief I'm doing this,” Admiral Irons said, stabbing his fingertip into the table top. “Make it happen.”
“Sir …”
“There will be wide spread panic, Admiral,” Sprite said in an almost desperate voice.
“No, there won't because we're not telling them what I'm doing.”
“That will make it worse.”
“I'll sip data from the ansible as we go. Sprite, you are staying here, sorry.”
“I figured as much,” the A.I. replied.
“I'll provide direction from what you give me, but I'll only have a short time during a skip to read what you send and respond. Make sure you plan on that.”
“I'll pack the buffer ahead of time. But, I'll provide synopses. You're going to have a lot of stuff to do when you get back.”
“Understood. Which reminds me, I'll need to load as much keys as I can into the replicators and pass on others now. We'll do that shortly.”
“Understood. I'm generating a to-do list before you take off,” Sprite stated.
“Get a water dweller helm team for each ship. That courier has one, right? Good. We'll borrow them in B101a1 as well. Tell Phil to stuff those ships with gear we can use in Bek plus NCIS, JAG, and law enforcement personnel. Anyone he can spare and then some. I want this done now, people.”
“I don't know if it will save Admiral Logan. It might be too late already,” Sprite said.
“Maybe,” Admiral Irons said as Monty stared at him. “Maybe not. It's not just about him though. Billions of lives are at stake. I'm not going to sit here on my laurels and let that bastard get away with this. No.”
“Okay, so, making it happen,” Sprite sighed.
Chapter 24
Pyrax
Despite his order to classify his movement, word had to get out to certain parties to keep them in the loop. Admiral Subert was one of those people. Admiral Subert swore and put a call in to talk to Admiral Irons but also issued orders to his staff to get moving on the three ships.
“Commodore X'll'rr isn't going to like it, sir, but we've got a division we can use now. Admiral Butley and Stormkeeper are one of the most solid BCs we've got. They are currently in dock at Delta-Four taking on stores. If I tell them to expedite they could clear the station in time. I am not sure about the helm team.”
“Find them and get them moving. Have them meet up at the jump point if necessary. I've got another list of personnel to get moving.”
“Sir?”
“Sending the file now,” Admiral Subert said as he cut and paste the relevant list out and over to an email. He hit send and then waited.
Saul grimaced as he read it. “All of them?”
“Anyone who can take the trip in short notice obviously. Good solid people obviously.”
“Right. Where are they going, sir?”
“Classified.”
Saul blinked and then nodded once. He pursed his lips for a moment then shrugged. “And the commodore?”
“I'll deal with her. Just get them moving.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
A lot of questions hit his office within moments of the orders being issued. He did his best to deal with them as he issued a request to fill in his command staff. After all, they'd have to know eventually. He was surprised when he got a reply allowing him to inform Saul and the flag officers but no one else.
When he got the call back from Saul, he listened as his chief of staff listed what he'd put into motion and then nodded.
“I'm guessing they are going to Bek since you issued orders to load them up with material we've stockpiled to send there, sir. What gives? Why battle cruisers?”
“And Winterspell.”
“Winterspell? Frack,” Saul said in frustration. Admiral Irons wanted the heavy cruiser less for what she was than who was in command of her.
“Get them moving now.”
“On it. Can I ask if this has anything to do with the recent incident in B-102c?”
“Yes.” Admiral Subert sighed. “Get the orders moving and then I'll tell you what I know.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Saul replied. He was back a few minutes later.
“Okay, we got a download from Ilmarinen. The crew has confirmed it …” It took only a few minutes to fill his chief of staff in. Saul nodded soberly when he finished. “Admiral Irons is prepping a courier in Antigua now. He's going to run here and then to B101a1. He'll meet up with those ships and take them in to Bek.”
That made Saul's eyes widen. His lips pursed in a silent whistle. “Damn,” he said softly.
“My sentiments exactly,” Admiral Subert said. “I don't like this. A lot can go wrong.”
“Yes, sir. But, this sort of thing was common practice in our time, remember? I think he'll be fine barring any problems. And if there are engineering issues, well, he
's the right man to solve them, right?”
“If he has time.”
“Admiral Irons is the best person to resolve the civil war without further bloodshed, sir. He's right about that. It does involve risk, but he's doing everything in his power to minimize it,” Saul said thoughtfully.
“Still, a lot is riding on this.”
“I know, sir. I'm as concerned as you are. But, it is the right call.”
“I don't know. I just don't know,” Admiral Subert said with a shake of his head.
“About the gear. Obviously, we can't get to all of it. Nor can we get to everything in the list. There is no room on a warship. What do we prioritize?” Barry asked, interjecting himself into the conversation.
“Here,” Admiral Subert said, sending him the list.
“All of it?”
“Only what we can fit into the three ships safely.”
“What about the teams?”
“NCIS, JAG, and any bureau personnel we've got that can get to the ships in time. Get them moving.”
“Already done. It will be tight. We can get about a hundred personnel to the ships.”
“Good.”
“Most of them are low level NCIS, Admiral. Some of the personnel are green, fresh from the academy.”
“He'll take what he can get,” Admiral Subert said with a shake of his head.
:::{)(}:::
Antigua
“This is insane. Does he understand the risks? If he dies …,” Monty shook his head in exasperation.
“What would you have us do? Lock him in his room? Ground him?” Nara asked in amusement.
“I … do you realize how much will come apart if he dies? If anything happens to him, I think everything falls apart!” Monty said, throwing his hands up in the air. Nara watched him pace and then smiled. “What?” he finally demanded, stopping to stare at him.
