Tuulia was a Navigator and all of her work was carefully thought out with every factor analyzed and the conclusion checked with mathematical equations. Writing a short concise message wasn’t easy for her.
“What is the main issue?” I asked trying to get her on a lineal path of thinking.
“The signature,” she announced, “Command will want answers as to why Eaglet is in charge of their BattleShip. That will lead to why the ship isn’t on station in the Tres sector. Which will cause them to question the signature.”
“Alright, let’s short cut the questions about the signature,” I ventured, “We’ll sign it as coming from Councilor Shi Peng. It’ll raise questions but no one will question the validity of the information.”
“What about the other five issues?” she asked.
“I believe we need to send an action message rather than a report,” I said, “What action do we want the Galactic Navy to take?”
“Oh, that’s simple,” Tuulia stated, “Send warships to Tres. Or, did I miss something?”
“No ma’am, you’re on the right track,” I said, “but the message needs to be tactical. We give Fleet Command just enough guidance so they respond with the fewest possible questions.”
We wrote, erased, corrected and rewrote the message several times. Finally, we had a message that hopefully would get Fleet Command moving and not bogged down in discussions.
Rear Admiral Haitham entered the Bridge at the start of third watch. He looked exhausted. Bags hung below his eyes and his brows were deeply furrowed from passing judgement on hundreds of issues.
“Captain on the Bridge,” one of the enlisted crewmen shouted.
Tuulia and I, as well as the Bridge staff, rose to our feet.
“As you were, people,” Haitham said, “Tuulia, what have you got for me?”
She spun the screen so he could read the message we planned to send to Fleet Command.
“We are at War! Enemy fleet in control of planet Tres. Ander El Aitor transporting Councilor Shi Peng to safety. Require picket line of warships in Tres and Dos transition zone. So ordered by the authority of the Galactic Council,
Councilor Shi Peng.”
“Shouldn’t the message come from the ship’s captain?” Haitham asked, “And don’t we need to tell them about the change of command, the Empress, and the kidnapping?”
Tuulia and I exchanged pained looks. It would mean another round of debates if she allowed him to start questioning us.
“Eaglet, you’ve done a good job as Captain,” she said softly, “But you’re exhausted. J-Pop and I have worked extensively on the message. Councilor Peng has approved it. You have twenty-one days of cruising before we send it. Go, get some sleep. And sometime during second watch Captain, you will approve this message.”
I had to assume there was some history between Haitham and Tuulia. He flashed a stern look, held it for a moment, then softened. Her response to the glare was a wide smile at the show of force. When she cocked her head to the side as if she were listening to something, he broke.
“Aye, aye Ma’am,” he said to the unspoken inquiry, “Lieutenant Piran. You have the Bridge.”
“Aye, Captain, I have the Bridge,” I replied.
He straightened his back and strutted off the Bridge. The show was good and he hid the weariness. I’d known the man for a short time but I could see the bluff. Our Captain was done in. I yawned, stretched my arms over my head, and went in search of a weak cup of coffee.
Chapter 22
Over the three week’s cruise, I had Warlock and the Strikers search the Messman’s locker and other lockers around the ship. Nothing indicating his association with conspirators came from the investigation or from the searches. The Strikers patrolled, and questioned but nothing turned up. I had to assume the fifth column wasn’t all that invested in dying for the Empress’s cause. Still it worried me that they might decide on more mischief at a later date.
I was on the Bridge with a couple of hours left in third watch. Today we’d evolve to Internal drive and send the message. A message that hopefully would mobilize the power of the Galactic Council Realm.
“Captain on deck,” someone shouted.
Immediately, I stood from where I was lounging on the Captain’s chair. It was allowed for the watch commander to sit in the big man’s chair. It was frowned upon to sprawl. In my defense, standing watch while in External drive was simply monitoring a flow of red ions on all the screens.
“As you were,” Haitham ordered as he crossed the distance to me, “Report Lieutenant Piran.”
“Captain. The ship is secure and all systems are operating within normal perimeters,” I replied.
“Good. Let’s get a coffee,” he suggested leading me to the beverage cart, “Is it still weak?”
“Yes Sir. On the flight line, Marine posts and engineering, the coffee will melt paint,” I stated, “On the Bridge, it’s as if they doubled the water.”
“Come on, the coffee’s better in Combat Control,” he said guiding me to the lift.
We stepped from the lift into madness. Lieutenant Jaya Perwira was standing on the access platform. From there, she was speaking loudly into her head set and gesturing wildly to different stations. In respond to her directions, two Ensigns were racing from platform to platform. At each work station, they’d bend over, study a screen, make a comment to the staff, then bolt to another platform. There they’d repeat the sequence and run to yet another platform.
“We’re out flanked, your Fighters are down to fifty percent,” Wind Chime said, “Where are the Bricks? If they’re not on station in two minutes, your GunShips will be a total loss.”
Her eyes shifted to the Admiral and me. Haitham waved her off and led me to the snack bar. Wind Chime continued directing the simulated battle.
“Crowbar, you’ve got an enemy flight entering your sector,” Wind Chime announced, “What are you going to do about it?”
One of the Ensigns turned to look across the expanse between the two platforms.
“I thought I’d bring my Fighters in for a head-on attack,” he said loud enough to be heard by me, “That would break up the enemy’s formation.”
“Don’t tell me,” Wind Chime scolded, “Show me.”
The Ensign, Crowbar, was walking and talking as he raced to another work station. On the screens above the ten stations, an enemy formation of five Fighters arrived inside the defensive screen before Crowbar’s Fighters could intercept them. Three were taken out by ship board defenses but two managed to reach the illuminated BattleShip. The damages scored lit up on the model. From what I could see, all of the Ander El Aitor’s recovery ports were gone. Without launch and recovery ports, elements of the defensive screen had no way to recover or get damage repaired and rearmed.
“Stand down,” Wind Chime announced, “Clear the boards.”
The screens went blank before blinking back on with displays of streaming red ions.
Haitham shoved a cup of black coffee into my hand.
“How is your team coming along?” he asked Wind Chime.
“We are zero out of twenty,” she replied while puffing out her chest, “Against the BattleShip scenario. However, we’ve improved on each mission. Give us a year and we’ll beat it.”
“Hopefully, you won’t have to face a real enemy without a complete staff of experienced officers,” he said handing her the other cup of coffee, “J-Pop and I were just looking for a decent coffee. Carry on.”
“Aye Sir,” Lieutenant Perwira said turning to her two subordinates, “Let’s set it up and run it again.”
I noticed a flash of anger run across the faces of her Ensigns. It looked as if Wind Chime’s popularity was eroding as her responsibilities increased. They were practicing, drilling and rehearsing for a situation no one expected them to encounter. And, a challenge no one on the Ander El Aitor or the Galactic Council Navy wanted them to encounter. Least of all Lieutenant Jaya Perwira, call sign Wind Chime, and her disgruntle
d band of inexperienced officers.
Haitham, walking me back to the lift, said, “Running drills will keep them from getting bored. I have her switching out her assistant flight controllers after several missions. This accomplishes two things. It keeps our new flight leaders engaged and Wind Chime is getting a real taste of command.”
“Can’t hurt her career in the future, Captain,” I admitted.
“Speaking of that, Piran,” Haitham said as the lift door closed, “Have you thought about your future. I could find a place for you in the deep space Navy.”
“Much appreciated, Sir,” I replied while stepping onto the Bridge, “But I’m in Special Navy Operations and I think I’ll stay.”
The deep space Navy meant big ships, long voyages and boring routine. I felt comfortable with the Strikers and couldn’t imagine a better fit at this stage of my life. Besides, the experience of the past weeks had given me enough experience in the deep space Navy to know it wasn’t for me.
Admiral Tuulia was at her work station. Surrounding her were a handful of people typing in equations and using the solutions to calculate the BattleShip’s evolution to Internal drive.
“Lieutenant Piran,” I have the Bridge.
“Aye, Admiral Haitham, you have the Bridge,” I responded.
With the traditional hand off completed, he turned to Tuulia, “Navigation, prepare for evolution to Internal drive.”
“Aye Captain, running power to Internal drive,” Tuulia replied, “Clocks syncing. Communications, alert engineering of impending evolution from External drive to Internal.”
“Aye Ma’am, engineering is alerted,” a crewman responded then he switched to the ship board hailing system, “Standby for Internal evolution. All hands, standby for Internal evolution in ten minutes.”
I wandered over to the snack cart. Its lower doors had been removed per my instructions. After the bombing attempt, I didn’t want anything brought onto the Bridge that made a visual inspection difficult. Selecting a muffin, I watched as the Bridge crew coordinated with Navigation to match clocks and powers for the evolution.
“All hands, standby for Internal evolution,” the PA system announced.
I moved away from the food cart and grabbed the edge of a work station.
We evolved without a snap. It was a tribute to Tuulia’s professionalism. Haitham immediately ordered the missive to Fleet Command away. I shrugged at the anticlimactic nature of it all and left to make my rounds of Marine Posts. After that, I’d nap in my quarters. The message would take twenty-two hours or so to reach Fleet Command. Given the notice of imminent danger, hopefully, Command would respond rapidly. In any case, the Ander El Aitor would have a day or so of cruising on Internal drive while waiting for an answer.
As I ambled off the Bridge, I heard Haitham issue another order, “Lieutenant Perwira, roll out the defensive screen.”
It wasn’t twenty-two hours before Command replied. At hour nineteen, with a few hours left in my watch, the message hit our forward sensors.
“Watch Commander, we have an incoming message,” Communications announced.
“Get it decoded and send it to the Captain’s screen,” I ordered.
If it was an answer, I’d alert Haitham. If it was a housekeeping message for supply or any number of mundane communications, I’d save them and tell the Captain when he relieved me at the start of first watch.
I scanned the message from Fleet Command and called Admiral Haitham immediately. A short time later, he walked onto the Bridge wiping the sleep from his eyes.
“Report, Mister Piran,” he ordered as he approached me.
He climbed into the Captain’s chair, adjusted the screen for his height, and pulled up the message.
“Message from Command,” I stated the obvious and gave the time of arrival, “Logged in 0310 hours. All ship’s systems are normal.”
“Noted. Message logged in at 0310,” he repeated for the ship’s log, “Have you read it?”
“No Sir,” I replied, “It’s marked for Councilor Peng.”
“And, have you called for the Councilor?” he inquired.
“No, Captain, I felt it was your place to call him,” I responded.
Of course I’d read the message. And, called Haitham.
‘Message for the Honorable Councilor Shi Peng on board the Galactic Council Realm BattleShip Ander El Aitor: per orders of the Galactic Council, you are to direct the Ander El Aitor to proceed to the Tres - Dos transition area. An Admiral’s Yacht will meet you. A command staff to will assume command of the ship and place Captain Haitham and Captain Tuulia under arrest. Charges to follow as placed by the Tres Planet Government, Naval Movement Command and the Galactic Council Navy.’
“And what do you make of the message, you didn’t read Mister Piran?” he asked with a pained expression on his face.
“I’d venture that the Tres Government sent a message before we launched,” I said, “They compromised Naval Movement Command in the Tres sector and confused the Navy. If the Yacht is the only ship they’re sending to the overlapping orbit points of planets Tres and Dos, Fleet Command doesn’t believe an enemy fleet has invaded the Realm.”
“So what would you advise?” he asked.
“Meet with Councilor Peng,” I said, “and make for the transit point with all possible haste. Hopefully, you can convince Command to mobilize before the Constabulary fleet arrives at planet Dos.”
“Call the Councilor’s quarters and request his presence on the Bridge,” he ordered, “I’ll have Admiral Tuulia and her team working on evolution solutions while we meet.”
“Aye, aye Captain,” I replied while typing a message to the Marines guarding the Councilor on my PID.
Chapter 23
An hour and forty minutes later, the Bridge was crowded. Marine and Druid security elements occupied the space along the walls. There was a loud murmur coming from Navigations as Admiral Tuulia and her staff calculated and recalculated the solutions. Councilor Shi Peng’s wheelchair was locked in place facing Haitham and the Captain’s chair. They were speaking in hushed tones.
Lieutenant Perwira was not in attendance. Wind Chime was below in Combat Control folding in the defensive screen. I was standing by in case the Captain or the Councilor needed anything. The Strikers were patrolling and on the lookout for any subversive actions. All the security under my control was in place. What wasn’t under my control was the space behind the BattleShip.
“Captain, contact, two unknown ships,” Communications reported, “Trailing Sensor just picked them up when they evolved to Internal drive.”
“Sound battle stations,” he ordered, “Send the display to the main screen.”
On the screen, two blips appeared. They were directly aft of us. However, as we watched, they split apart on headings to flank our BattleShip.
“Combat Control, reset your defense screen,” Haitham spoke into the head set he’d slapped on, “Councilor, you’ll have to excuse me.”
“By all means, Captain,” the old man replied.
“I have them on our screens,” Wind Chime reported from Combat Control, “Unknown ships. They’re between a Frigate and a Patrol Boat in size. Our GunShips report active scanning from both.”
“Well, we can’t evolve in the presence of a threat,” Haitham said under his breath, then to Councilor Peng, “During an evolution, we’re at our most venerable. Either we engage the ships and disable their offensive abilities. Or we talk to them and try to cruise away.”
“Combat Control to Bridge,” Wind Chime called.
“Go Combat Control,” Haitham responded.
“The defensive screen is reset,” Perwira reported, “The unknown ships are moving away. Still on a flanking course but definitely putting distance between us. Combat Control is identifying them as Enemy Ship 1 and Enemy Ship 2.”
I thought about the maneuver. Everyone else was busy talking, tracking or responding to questions. I was the only one without an active battle station or a pr
imary duty. Why would the unknown ships spread out? They were already beyond the range of our GunShip’s weapons and could evade any missiles we launched. So why the increasing distance as they caught up with the BattleShip?
Over and over, I tried to remember any combat maneuver we’d studied calling for a radical split attack. Nothing came to mind, and I began to put myself in the place of the unknown ship’s commanders. The only reason to put distance between ships was the safety of your ship. And out in the middle of nowhere, the only reason to split was...
“They’re clearing a safety arc,” I said walking towards Haitham, “They’re vacating the space because something big is in bound.”
“And they don’t want to be in its way when it arrives,” Haitham added than asked, “Anything on the sensors?”
“Negative, Sir,” came back the answer.
“Suppose, we’re in the way?” Councilor Peng asked.
“Councilor, a collision at velocity would be catastrophic for both ships,” the Captain answered, “But space is big and the chance of it is slim.”
“Combat Control to Bridge,” Perwira sounded nervous this time, “GunShips report ES-1 and ES-2 have started to turn. New heading is on a course parallel to us.”
“Captain, ES-1 and ES-2 have increased velocity,” Communications reported, “Looks like they are trying to get ahead of us.”
“Can we out run them?” Councilor Peng asked.
“We can but the GunShips can’t unless they went to External drive and back to Internal,” he said, “It would be as if we were surrounded by fireflies. No, we’re restricted by the power of our least powerful ships.”
“Communications, message for Fleet Command,” Haitham said turning from the Councilor, “Have encountered three unknown warships in Tres sector. Believe them to be Empress Empire Constabulary warships. Send it.”
Galactic Council Realm 3: On Guard Page 18
