by Chris Hechtl
“Understood,” he said with a curt nod as he turned away. She grabbed him. He turned back and got a peck on his cheek. He touched it and then nodded again as she let him go and gave him a gentle push.
“Ladies and gentleman, please rise for the emperor,” the herald said as he stepped through on cue.
He strode the few steps to the podium and nodded to Sakura. She made a show of curtsying to him as he took her place.
“Good evening,” he said sonorously. “After careful consultation with the lords of the Admiralty, I have concluded we must send additional forces to combat the menace bearing down on the empire's borders. I make this decision carefully after much consideration of the intelligence and data from the Sword of Retribution Fleet.”
He bowed his head slightly. “I do this humbly, after losing both of my sons to the fires of the enemy. They will be avenged,” he said, looking up, eyes bright with internal fire. “We shall win, and this new Federation shall be burned by our resolve and our might. Nothing can stand before us. We shall brush them aside and move on to take our rightful place.”
:::{)(}:::
Catherine felt intense relief when she heard the news that the emperor had authorized a follow-up mission. A strong one, one with squadrons of battle cruisers, battleships, dreadnoughts, and quite possibly super dreadnoughts. For the first time, she thought her return was worth it.
Now, if they could just get to Dead Drop to stop the enemy in his tracks, she could finally feel like relaxing a little.
:::{)(}:::
Elvira heard about the deployment of a quarter of Home Fleet and felt elation and relief. She realized she should feel a swelter of pride, but in place of that was grim determination. Not that she was going with them. She hoped they'd be enough to do the job. They damn well better be or the empire was doomed.
Chapter 31
Pyrax
Admiral Subert grimaced as he checked the status board. Firefly was off, the ship had left for the jump to B101a1 and so he was back to Barry and the other A.I. in the star system. He didn't like it, but he didn't have much choice it seemed. Those who thought a vice admiral could do all sorts of things were sadly mistaken.
He turned his attention elsewhere before he got caught up in mental grumbling that soured his day. Instead, he turned his attention to a report from the war college. He wasn't certain how to handle it. Most of it was arm-chair quarterbacking based on reports filed from people in the field.
He knew a lot of field people hated those things. His own time in the hot seat might have been brief and centuries ago, but he could relate. But those reports existed for a reason. They found faults others overlooked or took for granted and then tried to find ways to compensate or told the Admiralty that they needed to do something about the problem before the enemy could exploit it.
Case in point, CEVs or at least their overreliance on them.
Analysis of the CEVs was still ongoing by BUPERS. In fact, they did a periodic evaluation of every ship class in the inventory to make certain there were no faults in the design or operation of the vessels. A critical issue was immediately brought to the attention of the brass of course. One such thing was threatening to boil over as the commanders evaluating the CEVs brought a problem to the surface and kept agitating for action.
It came down to how the CEVs were intended to be used and how the navy had pushed for them to fill in the role of larger vessels. Larger air groups on the CEVs meant they drew down their parts, fuel supply, and munitions heavily. The range hid that initially, but a hot wash showed that fully loaded they would have been good for two, possibly three, strikes before they were shot dry.
Then there was the problem of having so many ships crowding the decks. The personnel were entirely a separate matter, but he did see a notation on the life support being overextended and needing frequent field repair to remain functional. Attached were documentation of complaints. Nice, the admiral thought in annoyance.
Of course, that didn't factor in any damage or lost ships which would play with those numbers a bit. He shook his head. It was a problem. CEVs were not really intended to stand in the wall of battle. They were built as escorts to convoys and possible raiders.
Even as raiders that same problem would crop up he reminded himself. They needed the platform redundancy, they needed the additional fighters and bombers they brought … he shook his head. There were no easy answers it seemed. No quick fixes.
The CEVs were still ambiguous to some. They had yet to truly prove themselves in combat. Kittyhawk had done well as had a few of the other ships but not outstanding.
He picked at his lip as he tried to analyze the problem. He had to admit, carriers weren't his cup of tea. He was a battle fleet and admittedly, a staff officer. They'd have to wait and see what the data said from TF3.2 and Second Fleet. The commander who had signed off on the report was agitating that the CEVs wings be reduced to stock models.
He sat back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. Given the number of carriers they were producing, that wasn't entirely out of the question. Once the larger carriers came out in larger numbers, they'd need the small craft on them first. Besides, a larger carrier was safer than a small carrier. He refused to countersign the report, but he did make a notation that he read it, and then turned his attention to the next one in his list of briefing material to read.
:::{)(}:::
Federation 1
“Ten minutes to jump exit,” the intercom blared. “Ten minutes.”
“I could get used to this,” Admiral Irons said. “Hell, what am I saying, I was used to this,” he said with a shake of his head.
Major Burrows looked over to him curiously. “Sorry, Tom,” the admiral said.
“No problem, sir. Talking with Protector?”
“No.”
“Oh, someone else?”
“No, just myself I guess. Thinking out loud,” the admiral said with a shrug. It had taken the ship three days to get to Briev. They had skipped through the star system without incident and had spent another three days to B-452c. After getting a sip of ansible data and flashing the picket, they'd moved on to another skip and then on to Agnosta.
The crew were doing a stellar job he thought in approval.
“Oh,” Tom said, interrupting his thoughts.
The admiral blinked. “Sorry,” he said. “Woolgathering,” he said.
“Perfectly all right. This is the right time and place for it, sir,” Tom said with a nod as he turned away.
“All hands, we're going to be dropping out of hyperspace shortly,” the ship's A.I. stated. “Please take all appropriate precautions,” he warned.
“Right,” Tom grunted. “I'll just make sure everyone has their anti-nausea systems kicked up to max,” he grumbled.
Admiral Irons grunted. One of the passengers hadn't taken the last skip well and had made a heck of a mess, unfortunately, right in the middle of eating in the tiny ship's galley with a half a dozen other people. Needless to say, the compartment had been sealed off and fumigated as had everyone involved. They could still smell the smell of vomit when one of the air exchanges kicked on. Apparently, there was something lingering in the ducts.
“Right. Tell them to shut down the mess or we'll have another mess,” Admiral Irons growled. Tom nodded and raised a hand to pass on the orders.
:::{)(}:::
Agnosta
Petty officer Martha Bubbles was on hand when Federation One arrived in Agnosta and translated down through the octaves to subspace. She was relieved when the ship was out. “There is something hinky with the power train,” she said.
“IFF challenge from the picket,” Patriot stated, interrupting her.
“Send the IFF and the encrypted order packet. Make sure it is directed to the picket only,” Captain Pong stated. She turned to the Pican. “You were saying?”
“There is something going on with the power, ma'am. I had a couple spots where there was hesitation with the throttle.”
; “I'll have Chief Killian look into it. If it is the throttle, it could be an issue with the RCS.”
“Yes, ma'am,” the Chimera said as she exited the grav tube. Jamie wiggled his whiskers as he took her place. He was supposed to be on shift for the next six hours, but it was going to be Coral's turn to perform the skip.
“Have a nice nap,” Jamie murmured as the Pican left the bridge.
:::{)(}:::
The frigate on picket duty processed the orders, but the captain took them one step further. He wasn't certain what it was about, but he was pretty sure there was some VIP on that ship. Which meant that certain parties might want to be notified in case of a visit.
Consequently, General Forth was apprised of the classified ship's arrival in the star system.
“I'm aware of who it is. Don't worry about it. Follow your orders,” he stated flatly when the captain put the call in.
“Yes, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
Admiral Irons warmed up the tachyon system and started the download from the ansible immediately. Unfortunately, the download took up 95 percent of the bandwidth, preventing him from having a real-time conversation with General Forth. Still, he did text the other flag officer. He wasn't certain what his schedule was like so he kept it brief.
General Forth responded, but he could tell the other officer was distracted so they each kept to a light exchange. For Admiral Irons' part, he became more and more focused on the information coming in from Antigua. He didn't like some of the ugly speculation going on in some quarters. So far, the story hadn't completely broken about his absence, but that was only a matter of time.
He was actually surprised it hadn't broken yet. Surely someone had noticed Federation One was missing? He went off grid from time to time but … no, he shook his head. He hated public functions and tried to avoid them whenever possible. And with the war heating up, it was possible they thought he was busy in the yard cooking something up.
Good. The longer they kept a lid on things, the better.
He frowned and turned his attention to the proposed legislation and the log from the sector congress. There were a lot of committee meetings and gigs of material that fortunately he didn't have the time or bandwidth to download. Pity about that he thought with a brief smirk.
:::{)(}:::
Pyrax
Admiral Subert received the update on Federation One's movements without changing his expression. “He's almost here,” Saul said when they got the report.
“Yeah. But he won't be here long,” Admiral Subert replied with an indifferent shrug. “What's this problem with naming the next fleet carrier? Why is BUSHIPS pitching a snit? And why is ONI involved?”
He had wanted to name the next CFV Courageous. It was a traditional name, one he knew about. He also liked the vision the name evoked, though it was tempting to name a different capital ship with that name.
“I did some digging and got to the bottom of it sir. You won't like the answer,” Barry replied. The admiral just looked at him expectantly. “I found out the Horathians salvaged the original and put her into service on their side in their Home Fleet.” Barry went on to explain about how the ship was the home of the elite Skull squadron. From the vice admiral's sour expression and changing vital signs, he could tell he was a bit put out over that.
“So, the name is tainted.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We've cross-referenced their databases. There are anomalies. ONI has flagged them. Some of their databases are questionable. Just getting rid of the viruses is a pain; we don't want to delete something that might prove important.”
“I see,” the admiral said. The A.I. knew what he was saying sounded a lot like a series of excuses. He couldn't help it.
“I can tell you of another ship. ONI has confirmed that they have an Audacious CEV, built from a captured freighter hull,” Barry stated.
“Well, if I remember my history right, the first Terran one was built along the same lines,” Admiral Subert mused.
“Yes, sir. British.”
“Yes, yes, I know. My grandmother was into the ancestry thing. She told me about how we came from Canada and Great Britain,” the admiral said, waving a dismissive hand.
“ONI has reported Hannah is also Horathian hands. I know that name was on your list.”
“Yes. She was named after the first ship in the American Navy, a schooner commanded by General John Glover that was turned into a privateer. Typical that they take the good ones,” he said in disgust at the news.
“We all share a history, Admiral. The interesting thing is they are fixated on Terran history. So, it is safe for us to name ships after aliens or to name ships after Neos or other Terran species,” Barry stated carefully.
“I don't like bowing to them. I hate the idea of giving the bastards anything,” Admiral Subert growled stubbornly.
“It is what it is, sir. We don't want any confusion.”
“Then we should name them Horathian Empire or something HE.”
“I believe they have a designation of their own. We have United Federation Navy.”
“What is their preferred designation?”
“It depends on which fleet. The Gather Fleet has no additional designation. The Battle Fleet or Home Fleet as they sometimes call it goes by HMS. The H stands for His, though some have interpreted it as Horathian. Some ships have HIR. Horathian Imperial Republic. There are also a few designated with HE …”
“Stop,” Admiral Subert said, hand up. “Okay. I give.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Can we name our ships then?” the admiral asked.
“I strongly urge you to stick to a broader range to illustrate our inclusiveness. That is what BUSHIPS intends. Let us designate ships with the names from all of our respective history and let them see the alieness. Ours will be inclusive while theirs is just Terran,” Barry stated.
“A psychological ploy,” Saul said, turning to the admiral. “I like it, sir. It makes sense. Of course, we could go through their war book, find the names they haven't used and use those too.”
Barry nodded. A list of names was generated and put up on a display.
“Oh, very well. Fine, we'll go with that,” Phil said, waving a hand.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Any news from Irons?”
“He is on schedule as far as we know sir. They just arrived in Agnosta. They should be skipping shortly.”
“Okay. What else?”
“Okay, moving on …” Saul said.
:::{)(}:::
Agnosta
Federation One oriented delicately under Coral's guidance and then entered hyperspace. Each of the helm team wanted a chance at a skip, but it seemed the Selkie had the best mindset for it. To them it was like surfing a wave in to shore and avoiding the rocks along the way. As the ship moved into the first octave, she recognized a problem however. There was a slight hesitation in power as they moved. Application of power was spotty. “Someone fix this problem!” she said as she narrowly dodged a grav shadow. She had several near collisions as she darted in and around some of the grav shadows. Moving out wasn't an option; they were committed to the course they'd set.
The ship bucked a few times as their shields barely caressed a mass shadow once and then twice. It sent a slight shiver through the ship, a tremor easily felt by all. It heightened the fear quotient.
Finally, she came out of hyper early, two astronomic units away from their expected exit site. They nearly caused a collision as two ships lined up for the jump point made an emergency panic burn before they got control of themselves.
“Chief, we've got a power problem,” the captain stated, opening a channel to main engineering once she was certain her ship was safe. “Secure from hyperspace,” she ordered.
“You're telling me!” Coral said as she unjacked from the system and got out of the grav pod. “We nearly lost it a couple times there! I slowed down, but that was dangerous. I don't want to do that again, Skippe
r. I won't until this is fixed,” Coral said firmly, wiggling her whiskers in bewilderment. She was getting her fear under control but it was difficult. Her implants kept her from hyperventilating. She knew she was going to be reliving that ride for a while. From the looks around the bridge, she wasn't the only one who would be doing so.
“We'll handle it. Get your downtime while you can, Coral,” the captain said. The Selkie nodded.
“I'm running it down now,” the chief engineer said.
“Start with the fuel system. The problem was in getting fuel into the reaction chamber. The antimatter side was fine. I had to balance the load and cut the fuel supply three times to compensate for problems with the slush deuterium,” the ship's A.I. stated.
“So that's what happened?” Coral asked as she made her way to the hatch.
“Yes. The rest of the system is fine. The problem is centered around the reaction chamber. I have identified some minor glitches as well,” the A.I. stated.
“Frack. Okay, I see it. Typical. Check for ignition, then fuel, and then go on from there. I'm running it down now, but I've got a couple suspects in mind, Skipper.”
“Any ETA on when we'll be underway again?”
“Not at this time. Let me work on it.”
The captain frowned and then nodded. “Right. Bridge out,” she said, cutting the channel.
:::{)(}:::
“What is going on?” Admiral Irons demanded as he looked up from his tablet. He was never going to get through everything Sprite had sent. He'd accuse her of being a sadist, but he knew everything she'd sent was required reading.
She just didn't need to be chipper about dumping it all on him. Not that he had proof she was. Accusations from past experience, yes. Proof no.
“Shouldn't we have skipped by now? What's the hold up?”
