by Rodney Smith
* * * * *
Angie lost her first pilot and ship. She was escorting three heavy attack squadrons against the picket line, but today was a little different. A fourth squadron of A-120's snuck behind the picket line and hit the supply depot on the uninhabited world.
The T’Pok fighters came after the three A-100 squadrons and Angie's squadron put themselves in between the attack ships and the T’Pok. They did fine at first, until the K’Rang launched their missiles. The jammers on the fighters protected them, but one of the missiles locked on one of the attack ships. The pilot, a new second lieutenant, turned to shoot the missile, but a T’Pok ran up on him and killed him. He had no chance to eject.
Angie shot the T’Pok and the rest of the fighting 68th shot down 17 others to avenge their squadron mate’s death. A somber 68th Fighter Squadron flew back to Leonov that day.
* * * * *
Orion entered orbit around Armstrong and requested permission to land at Antares Base. Permission was granted and Kelly ordered a standard approach. The landing was not as smooth as he would have liked, but not bad for a new crew with a new ship. The Orion was directed to a parking spot, where the ground crew hooked up power, sewer, and water. Kelly ordered engineering to shut down the engines. He also ordered a full diagnostic run on the engines, to see if the extended high-speed run had affected them. The report came back negative and Kelly left to meet with Admiral Minacci.
The admiral was in his outer office, saw Kelly, and waved him into his office.
“Well, how is she?”
“She’s fast, sir, and she’s big. I served on the Carrier Bolivar and it didn’t feel as big as the Orion. Of course, some of that may go away when a full crew is aboard. I tried not to strip all of Admiral Hasselrode’s people. Only took 75 from him. Have you received any word on my volunteers, sir?”
“John told me you were gentle, but he’s upset you didn’t kiss him before you left,” Admiral Minacci laughed.
He picked up a data device on his desk and tossed it into Kelly’s hands.
“I think those might be your volunteers. Those just came in. Please tell me I can have the ones you don’t use.”
Kelly flipped through the data on his pocket terminal and said, “These are Scout Force veterans, sir. They’d be insulted if you didn’t take the ones I can’t use. I promised them Scout Force, not just my ship. On another matter, I don’t have an XO. The officers on Leonov were Fleet officers, not Scout Force. I need a second in command that thinks like I do. Are there any lieutenant commanders running around loose? It was the same thing with my Master Chief Petty Officer. Any loose master chiefs needing a job?”
Admiral Minacci fumbled with his terminal, compiled a document, and flashed it to Kelly’s pocket terminal. It was a list of all lieutenant commanders and MCPOs on Armstrong.
“Look at the list and your volunteers. Let me know what you decide. I’ll ask the Command Master Chief to get you his recommendations.”
“Thank you, sir. I’ll run down these lists and see who I can use.”
* * * * *
Kelly took off long enough to take Candy out to dinner. They had a wonderful meal together and a great bottle of wine. Candy noticed Kelly acting strangely, uncharacteristically nervous and wondered what was up. When they were through eating, Kelly ordered a bottle of dessert wine. When it was served, they clinked glasses and sipped the sweet wine.
Kelly, a trifle nervous, pulled out a small box, and promptly fumbled it, sending it skittering across the dining room floor. It ended up directly under the chair of a matronly looking woman sitting with a younger couple. He slunk over to the table, apologized, and asked the older woman if he could retrieve the box under her chair.
There was momentary confusion, but eventually the woman understood and stood up, moving aside so he could retrieve the box. The old woman saw the box, recognized it for what it was, and wished him luck. Candy was laughing as he walked back to their table – until he opened the box for her. A shocked look crossed her face as Kelly asked her to be his wife.
Tears of joy spontaneously flowed from her eyes as she said yes. Other diners noticed the proposal and applauded them. Candy leaned over and kissed him and more applause burst out. They finished their wine and Kelly settled the account.
They walked out to Candy’s air car and she asked, “Can you get away to come to my house?”
“I’m sorry, no. I realize my timing sucks, but I want to marry you before I have to deploy. I’m scared some other guy might steal you away from me.”
She laughed and said, “Fat chance, mister. I was going to propose to you myself if you hadn’t. Come here.”
She molded into him and kissed him like she couldn’t inside the restaurant. As they broke the kiss, she shouted, “Oh, my God! I better call Mom, before one of those diners calls her.”
She pulled out her communicator and dialed. Kelly could hear the squeals without the speaker function being activated. Candy talked to her mom for a while, describing the proposal, and then passed the phone to Kelly.
In rapid-fire mode, he heard, “Kelly, you can call me Amy now, but you better not call Tom by his first name. I’m so happy for you. When do you want the wedding? I’ll ask Tom about your deployment schedule. Don’t worry, Candy and I will take care of everything. You made a good decision tonight, Kelly. We’re happy to have you a part of our family. Put Candy back on.”
Kelly handed the communicator back to Candy without getting a word in. She spoke to her mom for a few more minutes and ended the call.
He then called his parents. A drowsy sounding Moira Blake picked up the call and said, “This better be important, Kelly.”
Kelly said, “I don’t know if you consider this important or not, but Candy and I are engaged.” He pulled the communicator away from his ear as his Mom screamed into the headset.
Moira put Andrew on the phone, who asked, “Why did you wait so long, son? It’s about time! Now let us talk to our new daughter-to-be.”
Kelly passed the communicator to Candy. There was more screaming and lots of congratulations ensued. She handed the handset back to him and he wished his folks a good night and ended the call.
Candy, with a look of pure mischief in her eyes, pointed out, “Your mom was louder than mine.”
She climbed into her air car and Kelly leaned down to kiss her goodnight. He hated to have her go back to her house alone, but he had assumption of command practice early in the morning. She drove away and Kelly waited until her lights faded from view, then caught a transport and returned to the Orion. He tossed and turned alone in his new bed for hours, wishing he were 35 miles away.
* * * * *
Admiral Chang received a briefing on the draft campaign plan. He liked most of what he saw and made some input that required revision. He wanted it back before week’s end and excused all but his operations chief, Admiral Thomas Kyle.
“Tom, how are we going to control those two fleets over hundreds of light years?”
“Admiral, it’s easier than you think. We recommissioned the command ship Montpelier, and will station her behind the 15th Battle Fleet opposite the K’Rang occupation fleet in Eridanus. That’s almost equidistant between both fleets’ axis of advance. All three flagships and the command ship have mini-rings. Coordination can be as easy as walking to a conference room on the Montpelier.”
“Tom, I don’t want HQ staffers running through the rings and trying to micromanage the battle. Let’s make the rings one way in this direction for all except a very select few. Make it no more than 10, preferably key stars. If I hear the commanders complain, I’ll pull the plug.”
“Understood, sir, I’ll put it in the plan. I have a deployment warning order to start getting key ships into place and I need your signature, sir.”
Admiral Chang signed it, ordering the carriers to start assembling into task forces and battle groups. It ordered fighter and attack squadrons to start forming into Carrier Fighter Wings and assigned them to the
carrier task forces. It reactivated the 12th, 35th, and 21st Scout Force Squadrons under the new 1st Scout Force Division, and reactivated the carriers Lincoln, Washington, Garibaldi, Juarez, and Gorbachev and assigned them forces to form task forces.
It ordered the formation of the 1st Combined Fleet and the 2nd Combined Fleet and assigned two battle fleets of five carriers each to each combined fleet, along with two battle cruiser groups and three assault landing groups. It ordered the formation of the 15th Battle Fleet consisting of five carrier task forces. Only the 18th Battle Fleet would be in reserve.
Admiral Chang thumbed his approval onto the pocket terminal and asked Admiral Kyle when he thought the Fleet would be ready to execute.
“Three months minimum, sir.”
Admiral Chang nodded his head. “Get me that operations order as soon as you can. Let’s give our commanders as much time to prepare as possible. Get Haddock-Halloway and Levi in here early next week so you can brief them on the plan and get their input. They’re both smart guys and will find any holes in your plan. Get the 15th and 18th Battle Fleet commanders in here, too.”
“Will do, sir.”
* * * * *
Kelly stood in the hot Antares sun and mentally cut his speech in half. His sailors would appreciate it. The formal assumption of command was behind them, leaving only the obligatory speeches. Admiral Craddock gave a fairly short speech, but Admiral Minacci was going on a bit long.
Kelly suddenly realized Minacci had just called his name. That’s what he gets for wool gathering, he thought. He stood up, shook Admiral Minacci’s hand and took the podium. He pulled out his pocket terminal and made a big show of deleting large portions of his speech.
He finally looked up and said, “It’s too hot for the long speech I was going to give.” Laughter ensued.
“Instead, I just want to thank Admiral Craddock for the vision that led to this magnificent ship. I’d like to thank him and Admiral Minacci for having the faith in me to allow me the honor of commanding her. I want to thank the crew in advance for their service aboard her. Mostly, I’d like to thank my fiancé, Candy, for agreeing this Wednesday to be my wife.”
Loud applause and cheering broke out amongst the audience and the crew in formation.
“Thank you all for taking time out of your busy schedules to be here. There are refreshments in the tent behind the formation. Please join us.”
With that, he marched off the platform and up to his acting Master Chief Petty officer and turned the formation over to him. He returned to the platform to shake hands with Admirals Minacci, Craddock, and Hasselrode and other assorted local VIPs. Candy came up to him and gave him a kiss.
She put her arm around him and said, “I knew you were going to do that.”
“Of course I was going to do that. I’m so proud that you said yes.”
Dozens of well-wishers came up to them, said what a wonderful couple they made, and wished them much happiness.
An hour later all the guests had drifted off, Kelly and Candy said their goodbyes, and they went back to work. There was still much to be done.
* * * * *
Admiral Sue Thomas looked at her Flagship, the GRS Bolivar. It floated in space in the Reserve Fleet holding area, in orbit above Leonov. A recommisioning crew would board her tomorrow and move her to the one free arm on Leonov Station. There she would be taken out of mothball status and restored to the active fleet roster.
Once she was recommissioned, a skeleton crew would move her to Antares Station to meet up with the remainder of her crew. Then Admiral Thomas would take command and rebuild the 15th Battle Group around her. Ships to be assigned to the 15th were in stations all over Galactic Republic space, being recommissioned and crewed. Some were being fitted with the new disruptor guns. Some were left as they were.
Fleet personnel put on the involuntary retired list four years ago were being recalled to man the massive fleets called for in the operations plan. Some came willingly, without being told. Some needed help to realize the obligation to the Fleet they had signed four years back. They accepted the retired pay with the proviso they would return if recalled in case of a Republic emergency within five years. Receiving stations all over the Republic processed personnel by the thousands. Large transports filled with returned personnel flew from ring to ring, delivering ships crews to their ships.
* * * * *
Lieutenant Commander Steve Guilford watched the last stragglers board his Andromeda class transport, one of twelve in his flight detachment. Once all were aboard and seated, he got on the loudspeaker and said, “Welcome ladies and gentlemen, this is flight 164 bound for Antares Station, with personnel destined for the GRS Buthelezi and the GRS Bolivar. If neither of these are your destination, get the hell off my ship.”
Laughter broke out when one man in a center seat gathered his belongings and slunk off the ship.
“For those of you that are returning retirees, welcome back. We value your previous service and that which you will yet provide. Now sit back, relax, and don’t be nervous about the ring transit. I’ve done it hundreds of times and it has never affected me.”
Guilford put the microphone back in its clip and exaggeratedly limped into the cockpit. Some passengers laughed, some didn’t.
* * * * *
Angie and Tammy shared a drink at the O club. It would be their last for a while. Angie’s squadron was being transferred to Gagarin to join a Carrier Fighter Wing. Tammy’s squadron was being assigned to a Wing that would support the 2nd Combined Fleet. The missions against the K’Rang picket line were getting too costly for the slow, heavy A-100's. A-120's were brought in to harass the K’Rang. They were faster, more nimble, and had a better suite of countermeasures. Tammy knew they also did less damage, because they carried fewer missiles, but after losing over a squadron’s worth of A-100's, it was time to try something else.
Tammy and Angie toasted to absent companions and the whole bar answered, “Hear, hear!”
Angie dragged Tammy from the bar stools to a booth and pulled out her pocket terminal.
“Tammy, brace yourself for some bad news. I got a message from Candy. Kelly proposed to her and she accepted. They’re engaged.”
Tammy looked stunned and said, “That bastard! How dare he break up the wonderful thing we four had going. Candy should have known better, too.”
“Yeah, for a guy that is only average in the looks department, he sure is nice to have around. He's always a gentleman, but has a great sense of humor and is just plain fun.”
Angie responded, “He's the most un-fighter pilot fighter pilot I’ve ever met. He has such confidence and competence, he never has to brag about it. Do you know how you usually tell if there is a male fighter pilot in the bar?”
They both answered laughing, "He’ll tell you.”
Angie took a sip of her drink, reflected dreamily for a second, and said, “Kelly has never been that way. He is one of those guys that seem to instinctively know just exactly what to do in any given situation. That’s why he made a good wingman. I think he knew when and which way I was going to turn before I did. He was that good.”
Tammy said, “I always wondered which of us would get him. It was inevitable. A good thing like that couldn’t last forever. We’ve all had such fun together, haven’t we?”
Angie replied, “I think we did. At least I did. You looked like you were having fun, too. Kelly looked like he was having a great time. Whatever, I still love them both and wish them the best of happiness.”
Tammy responded, “Me, too. Now, what can I get them as a wedding present? Hell, Candy has everything and Kelly doesn’t need anything.”
The two of them pondered on this and hadn’t decided by closing time.
* * * * *
Kelly continued his survey of the Orion, concentrating next on the upper deck. In the admin area, he found three yeomen, two female and one male, and a female personnel specialist processing the volunteer requests. He asked them how it was going.
The personnel specialist said, “Sir, we have almost your entire old crew from the Vigilant here in this stack. We have a lot of those billets already filled. It is, of course, your prerogative if you want to bump a current crewmember to bring in one of your old crew. Here's one you might want to consider. She was your old XO, Lieutenant Commander Consuela Cortez.”
Kelly asked to see her file and they passed him a pocket terminal. Connie had transferred to combat fleet after Scout Force was reduced. She continued in the command track and earned the Space Warfare Officer’s Badge. The badge identified an officer qualified to stand watch as the officer of the deck, effectively supervising the bridge crew and keeping the ship on course and away from navigational hazards. It also signified an officer capable of operating in most ship’s divisions or departments.
Connie was just what Kelly needed, someone that understood how the big Fleet ran ships, versus the more relaxed methods used on Scout Force ships. Kelly luckily had had Lieutenant Handel to take over as OOD, so Kelly didn’t have to spend the whole transit to Antares on the bridge. He would have to organize a Space Warfare Officer program to qualify more of his officers as SWOs. The Orion was too big for the captain to always be on the bridge.
“Please request that Lieutenant Commander Cortez’s request be approved and she be ordered here ASAP.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
He continued his survey into officers’ country. Behind the admin area was the officers’ wardroom. It was empty, but a table had soft drinks, coffee, tea and small snacks. Kelly poured a cup of coffee. He looked around and saw data tablets with popular e-books and e-zines and a large monitor system. It was a pretty nice set up.
He wandered out into the officers’ quarters and found something peculiar. He found more than one cabin per two officers. Normal Fleet policy was one cabin for every two lieutenant commanders or lieutenants. Counting the XO, who got a private cabin, he should have four two-person cabins. He had ten. He noticed that his officers had occupied almost all of them. Kelly suspected that was not the intention, but he would check before dispossessing them.
