by Chris Hechtl
“He'll just love that interruption,” the tech muttered under his breath as he passed on the order. He wasn't certain if he wanted to be on hand to hear the chimp. The chimp could bend metal with his shrieky voice when he was pissed.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral Irons pursed his lips as he scanned the reports. According to the latest report, Amadeus had moved on Dead Drop. His expected ETA was within a week, so it would be months before they heard back from him. He would be out of contact when Amadeus finally did get word to the ansible in B-95a3.
Most of the other reports he skimmed over before he turned his attention to local matters. He knew he could make an impact while he was there and he intended to maximize his effectiveness to do so. Consequently, he turned his attention to the station and then the ship repair reports.
He was an expert on such things; he immediately identified the bottlenecks the engineers and crew were facing. It came down to not having the parts available to repair the heavy cruiser. The A.I. had balked at having an emergency repair since parts could be shipped in from Pyrax. Well, there was another way to fix the problem too, he thought as he wrote out a quick plan. “Protector, give me a list of what they need. I'll key it up to them and transmit the keys.”
“For the ships, sir?” Proteus interjected.
“For everything while we're here. But start with what Rolling Thunder needs and work downward from there.” Admiral Irons said. “Sorry, I should have directed that to you.”
“Aye aye, sir, not a problem. I'll handle this since Protector is busy with the download from the ansible,” the engineering A.I. replied. “The heavy cruiser is the priority, understood. I've got Chief Bailey's last reports now. I'm generating a list based on them. I'll do the same for each of the other ships they have listed. I don't believe they have enough materials and fuel to make everything.”
“Bailey?” Admiral Irons asked, brows knit as the name hit a few distant bells.
“Yes, sir. And yes, before you ask the Neochimp is acquainted with you based on his record.”
“Damn,” the admiral said as the final pieces fell into place. He'd totally forgotten the chimp was on the station. He'd lost track of him, and the reminder of the recent incident with Ilmarinen should have reminded him, he'd seen the name in the report but hadn't made the connection. He nodded as he came to a decision. “Okay, drop a line to him if we've got the time.”
“There will be a noticeable time lag even with the tachyon link.”
“We'll have to get caught up on the return trip then. Damn. I wondered where he ended up. Wait, I thought he was in Bek?”
“You didn't notice the report that he and his wife ended up with Commodore Logan? They've been on the station since its inception, sir,” the A.I. replied. “He is the station's chief engineer. He lost several limbs during the Xeno virus attack but has cybernetic replacements. His entire family just immigrated to the station a short time ago.”
“Forgot that,” Admiral Irons muttered. “All of that,” he said as he shook himself. “Damn. Okay, I'll have to definitely catch up with him.”
“If we have time, sir.”
“I'll damn well make time. I've got some friends and I've ignored a few of them for too damn long. If I can't spend some time with them, then I don't belong in this job.”
“Yes, sir, if you say so.”
“I'll write him an email,” Admiral Irons said, pulling up a virtual keyboard. He started to add the email address of Bailey but the system filled it in for him. He hit a key, typed “Hey” in the subject line, hit the skip key again and then got into the body of the message. He couldn't help but smile as he put a request in for a beer and bullshit session.
:::{)(}:::
“You summoned me, Commander?” Chief Bailey asked flippantly as he entered the command deck. He paused and then grinned at the sight of the two battle cruisers trailing behind the heavy cruiser on the main screen. “Hell, yeah!” He wasn't the only one to cheer and grin at the sight of the large warships sailing majestically across the screen.
The commander's gaze was naturally drawn to what the chief was looking at before she turned to him. “I'm not sure two battle cruisers can stop thousands of capital ships,” Commander Lafleur stated dubiously.
“We'll see. I don't think it's as much about the ships as what they may be carrying.”
“You think Admiral Sienkov will make that much of a difference?” the commander asked.
“I don't know. I have faith he'll make some sort of a splash. How much I don't know. But something has to be done.”
“Agreed.”
“We're working with Ilmarinen to continue to repair Rolling Thunder. I wish I could send both with them, but Rolling Thunder is just too fracked up. The frame damage is bad. She is a yard job honestly.”
“I saw your reports.”
“Yeah well, they made it worse when they tried to get underway despite my warnings,” the Neochimp grumbled. “We've got more bent spars. We can cut away the bent parts and reshape them, then weld in gussets for strength, but there is only so much we can do.”
“And I don't like welds in a frame, not when they were made to be solid,” the commander said. “But it's not my ship.”
“I know, ma'am, and I admit, I hate it too. So does Rolling Thunder's chief engineer,” he said.
“Ma'am, we're getting some data from the Admiral Butley. She's sending files to Ilmarinen too.”
“Oh?”
“We sent a log when they arrived. They are now transmitting … are those keys?”
Chief Bailey stiffened when he got an alert through his implants. He closed his eyes and accessed his implants. He opened his inbox and checked the new mail. There was a personal message but the keys were there at the top. He clicked on them and felt his lips pucker in a whistle.
“What?”
“Keys indeed. Engineering keys. Just what we need to fix Rolling Thunder,” he said with a grin as he opened his eyes.
“Oh?”
“Yeah. With these we can get Ilmarinen to make what we need in a snap. Once we get her the material I mean,” he said.
“Huh. I wonder how they did that?” the commander asked just as the chief scrolled down to check the other email he'd gotten. His eyes widened, and he licked his lips.
“Well, I might know who's on board. It explains a lot, ma'am,” he said as he checked the key signature and then stared at the flagship.
“Care to share?” she asked in exasperated amusement when he just stared out the viewport for a long moment.
He started when she touched his good arm. “Sorry, ma'am?”
“What's up, Chief?”
“Just … seeing an old friend, ma'am,” he replied. “I guess we'll catch up when he returns,” he said as he turned and grinned. “Those brass bastards in Bek don't know what's coming,” he said as his grin turned feral. His brown eyes glittered.
The commander's left eyebrow rose in inquiry. He saw it and snorted. “Check the keys again, ma'am. Look at who signed them,” he said.
She looked at them and then frowned. “Admiral Irons?” she asked, looking up to him. “How is that strange? He sent keys to Admiral Logan, didn't he?”
“Check the time stamp, ma'am. He just sent them,” Bailey said, turning back to the distant image of Admiral Butley and her consorts. “As in, just now,” he said.
The soft chatter on the command deck cut off abruptly. Eyes turned to him in surprise and then to the image of the battle cruiser as he cruises away.
He felt and then saw out of the corner of his eye as the commander joined him. “Yeah,” she said gruffly. “They won't know what hit them,” she said with a nod. “Safe sailing.”
She turned to her comm section. “Transmit to the ships. Safe sailing. Good luck and see you soon.”
“Aye aye, ma'am,” the Veraxin tech on duty replied.
Chapter 39
Eastern Front
Prowler UFN-002P sat quietly in the empty B-87R star
system. Tedium was the order of the day. The ship's A.I. Ensign Casper did his best to lighten the mood and boredom, but he had an uphill task there.
They had scouted the Konahagakure system and per their orders had left a beacon with the data one system back for TF3.2 to pick up and process. If all had gone as planned, the task force had split off a CEV task force to strike the star system and the two destroyers, two transports, one courier, space stations, platforms, and single medium cruiser there.
The crew there had been incredibly lax. They'd gotten in and out without getting much of a reaction from any of the ships. If they were lucky, the idiots might have thought they were a sensor ghost.
They had managed to pick up a single ice ball in B-88R, which had justified the captain's risk of going down the OTBP jump chain. She almost wished she hadn't. They'd made it back, but they'd used up a majority of their fuel getting back to the empty star system. They had enough fuel to wake a week before they would be forced to make a single jump. She still wasn't certain if the single tin can, courier, or transport had followed them out. So far so good.
But now she had a problem. There was no ice to be found and recycling could only take them so far. She'd reduced their power to a trickle, but it wasn't going to last long. All they had was a single jump left. A single jump, where there were empty star systems in three directions and a single hostile occupied system in the fourth. Not a good selection.
Fortunately, they'd only been in the star system for three days when a massive hyperspace translation appeared on their sensors at the B-88R jump point.
Their wait was finally over.
:::{)(}:::
“The prowler is here, ma'am,” Commander Sunil Pizey, the admiral's chief of staff reported. “CIC has just confirmed their IFF. They are moving in to rendezvous now. ETA three days,” the chief of staff reported.
“Good. Are they transmitting their data?”
“We just cleared the hyper wake. Communications is setting up the link now. It should be a few minutes. Do you have a preference on what you'd like to see, ma'am? OTBP or anything else they've got?”
“OTBP. I saw their report of Konahagakure,” Admiral V'r'z'll stated. “They'll need resupply correct?”
“Yes, ma'am.”
“Good to know. I want them turned around fast so we can get intel on the next objectives,” the admiral stated.
“Are we still sending them up the New Horizon jump line to Finagle?” the TAO asked.
“Yes. There are three occupied star systems there. Unless you have another idea?”
“I'd really love to consolidate and come up to Garth from below and tear them a new one while relieving Second Fleet,” the staff tactical officer replied with a shrug. The female Veraxin studied him for a moment. Commander T'rll was one of the few officers to remain with her after she'd taken over from Commodore X'll'RR. He'd gone the distance. She'd allowed it not out of any sort of species loyalty but because he was good at his job.
“That is certainly an option. We've got time. Get me that report. As soon as we have it, we'll consider dispatching the raiders to OTBP,” the admiral stated.
“Aye aye, ma'am,” her chief of staff replied dutifully.
:::{)(}:::
Commander Chi'th clattered his mandibles as he considered the problem. The admiral had insisted one of their two ansible transports keep up with the fleet. That meant the ansibles it had carried had been severely degraded to the point where they could get only one viable ansible out of the mess. He passed on orders to set up one of the platforms and insert what was left of the first core.
“We aren't going to get a lot of bandwidth,” the transport captain warned. “Not even a kilobyte per second of transmission speed,” the captain said tisk tisking in annoyance at the waste. “These muons don't grow on trees you know. They are expensive to make and slice, let alone transport. I doubt we'll have much left if we make a couple more jumps.”
“I know,” the T'clock replied. “It should be enough. We need the others for any other stops.”
“Well, if you'd allowed us to come at our own speed,” the captain muttered. The T'clock clacked his mandibles sharply. “Yeah, sure, whatever you need. Where do you want it?” she asked.
“Where is the best place for it?”
“Where it is away from natural disasters and problems, well shielded and away from gravitational anomalies. Usually a Lagrange point. I had time so I picked a few out. Do you want a list?”
“I'm certain whichever you pick will be fine, you are the expert here, not me.”
“As you wish. We'll have it set up in a jiffy,” the captain replied as she signed off.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral V'r'z'll felt completely justified when the ansible came online. Sure, they had a lot less bandwidth but it was a functional device, allowing her to report in. The time delay had been cut, and she could use it to get her orders to move onward faster.
She hadn't been a complete fool though. She'd allowed one of the two transports to follow in their wake at its best safe speed. That way the complaints about waste were nullified. She really didn't need more than a few of the things anyway.
She uploaded her report once the link was established to Antigua. She impatiently watched the handshake and then saw the scroll bar crawl as the gigs of data began to be transmitted. After an hour, it had barely moved a couple of percentage points. On top of that, it was monopolizing most of the bandwidth so returning information was slow in coming.
By evening she had given up watching it and returned to her duties. When the reports were finally sent, she heaved a sigh of relief and tapped out a request for additional light forces as well as her confirmation orders to move on to the next objective. She tapped out a request for news as well.
That was when she found out Admiral Irons had put a halt on her movement pending his personal approval. And for the next several weeks, he was incommunicado. She was pissed over the delay but helpless to do anything about it but seethe in impotent frustration over it.
:::{)(}:::
“I cannot believe this! I simply cannot! Why … what is going on?!?” the admiral snarled.
“I don't know. I can't work contacts with the ansible still downloading updates and news, ma'am,” Commander Pizey stated.
“I know that. But …?”
“For the moment, we can't do anything about that, ma'am. I know you were planning on stopping in New Horizon to set up a base there since there are little resources elsewhere. That will have to wait. We may need to implement rationing mode if this is drawn out.”
“That's the problem. We don't know for how long. It could be a day or a week or months,” the quartermaster grumbled.
The Veraxin chittered in irritation. Her plan had been to raid the targets she'd been assigned, then consolidate. Once her forces were back together, she'd planned on sending the prowler up each jump chain while she took New Horizon. She had wanted to leave a light picket force in charge there while she moved on.
Now that plan and its timing were in jeopardy.
“I suggest we move on the objective we can achieve, ma'am. Focus on that for the moment. We can also process what we know. For instance, we picked up the prowler's beacon about Konahagakure before you dispatched the raiding force. There are indications of recent travel here. Could more ships have passed by? We probably missed them in hyperspace.”
“But it's not a big enough transport—a couple of ships,” Commander T'r'll stated. “The question is, what sort of ships and who owned them? And what was their mission?”
“Admiral! Picket force reports a contact coming in from the New Horizon jump chain,” a CIC rating said, cutting through the staff's discussion.
The admiral rose from her saddle abruptly. “I'll take it on the flag bridge. Authorize them to move now,” she ordered.
:::{)(}:::
Captain Nijing of Silver Tongue Devil couldn't help but smirk as his two ships cleared their hyper wake. He had done it. H
e was certain Trembling Timmy had been held up by Duchess Tucket.
“CIC reporting. We have multiple bogies on our screens. There are two near the jump zone,” a tech said in a strained voice, cutting in to his good mood.
“Friend or foe?” he demanded, sitting up abruptly as he suddenly remembered their orders. He hadn't taken them seriously after not seeing much sign of any unknown activity. Oh, sure, there had been all those ion trails to Hinata, but they might have been perfectly normal.
“No IFF sent or received. We're not recognizing them in the war book. There are two Arboth class destroyers and a Resolution class heavy cruiser fourteen million kilometers out. They are orienting on us now.”
“Send our IFF. Battle stations,” the captain said. It was a good time for a drill anyway he thought with a remote part of his mind, still not sure if it was real.
“The destroyers have launched small craft,” CIC warned as the lights dimmed and then went red and the klaxon blared. He could just hear them over the din of the damn thing.
“Comm, raise them and see if they are friendly. Time to get our hyperdrive recharged?” the captain demanded.
“You want the hyperdrive recharged now? We just drained the hyper capacitors,” the OPS tech replied.
“You …?” the captain half rose out of his chair. “Comm, raise the courier. Send them everything we've got so far. CIC, I want a running feed to the courier. Comm, order the courier to bring up her hyperdrive now and come about. We'll delay them.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Engineering, sir. We'll have the hyperdrive back up in an hour. Sorry, sir,” a voice said over the intercom as the XO reported on the bridge at a run despite wearing his suit and holding the captain's suit over his shoulder.
“Find a way to cut that time in half, Chief,” the captain said as he rose from the hot seat and held out an expectant hand. The XO handed him his suit and helmet.
