Last Measure of Devotion (TCOTU, Book 5) (This Corner of the Universe)

by Britt Ringel

  Moments later, Excellence’s GP laser salvo painted itself over Dioscuri’s exposed beam. The triumvirate fired from Excellence’s GP emplacement scorched deep furrows into Dioscuri’s middle deck just forward of the Number Four missile port. Exterior compartments expelled their contents into space as the ship’s hull breached. Farther ahead, Gunnersmate Third Class David Peterson never knew what hit him as fire from Excellence’s dual GP turret pierced the forward-most gunner’s position on the ship. Additional strobes of light melted and pierced armor across the length of Dioscuri’s bow in a mural of ruin. While still reeling from those blows, Formidable’s Maclex lasers added to the portrait of destruction occurring along the front of the stricken flagship.

  Damage was pouring into Dioscuri now. Formidable’s quartet of heavy laser fire cleaved deeply near the bow. Three of the four beams were stopped only after penetrating nearly seventy percent through the ship. Interior compartments decompressed as horrified sailors desperately fumbled to secure their shocksuits. None of the exposed Seshafians had experienced decompression before, adding the complexity of chaos to the simple action of sealing their helmets.

  The fourth beam of charged energy from Formidable pierced completely through the relatively narrow prow of Dioscuri. Twin rivulets streamed from the second-rate’s formerly beautiful bow, like whiskers of some gigantic creature, before containment fields snapped into place to end the spectacle.

  In contrast to Dioscuri’s front, her starboard beam continued to spew wreckage in gruesome fits and coughs as the range increased between her and the Saden formations. Parting light laser fire from Gyrfalcon and Superb missed by wide margins even as Courageux’s final heavy laser shots found their marks. The four streams of light cored the after-third of the warship’s hull evenly between her middle and top deck. The first twin beams lashed over the aft dual Maclex turret with seemingly little effect. Two heartbeats later, however, an enormous explosion rocked the ship hard enough to pitch her bow upward slightly while gouts of flame purged the entire turret from its mount.

  The remaining two heavy laser shots from Courageux impaled Engineering. Dioscuri’s core was spared rebuke but Sub-lieutenant Jacqueline Archer and her entire section inside the Power Conversion Control compartment were fleeting witnesses to the catastrophe of a runaway power converter.

  The bleeding and cratered flagship sailed on for several seconds before the final hostility directed at her, a Maclex shot from Excellence, swept well aft.

  Heskan wiped fiercely at his brow. He had come to loathe the feeling of sweat trickling down his face. It feels too much like a bug crawling on me, he thought while drying his gloved hand. The tactical plot showed Vernay’s main would complete her ad-hoc pass against the Saden main in another twenty-six seconds. The two Seshafian sections had yet to exchange data regarding the combat pass but Heskan could tell from Vernay’s terrible position that her pass would not amount to much. “Mike, find out how bad we’re hurt,” he growled while frowning at the display.

  The formations had met at an acute angle and were now sailing safely away from each other. The lack of follow-up missile fire was unnerving as Heskan considered how vulnerable his ship was. Now that we’ve passed through each other, our line ships are completely exposed with our battlesides facing in the wrong directions. Far worse than Dioscuri’s exposed flank was the chaotic state of Vernay’s formation. The six-ship main had distorted into bedlam. Ajax “led” her section with nearly a 10ls gap between herself and the nearest ship, Falcon. The ships of the Iron Brigade maintained better formation integrity but trailed Ajax at a distance of 14ls. Covington’s Hawk had apparently missed the command and was no longer sailing in the section’s third position where it had started. She now sailed fifth in line, behind the Iron Brigade and slightly askew with Hobelar. On its face, the state of the main was inexcusable. Heskan stared sourly at the collection of ships, unable to think of any reason why Vernay’s formation could have ended up so scattered.

  He leaned to his right and opened the vanguard command channel. “All ships of the van will continue line ahead and follow the flagship. Dioscuri will execute immediate sixty-degree turn to starboard. Maintain fleet speed.” He disconnected from the channel and added, “Make it a slow turn. I don’t know how badly the other ships in our section were damaged. Once we’re sorted out, set a course toward the C-Three ship. I need to talk with Captain Nguyen.”

  The navigation lieutenant’s shocksuit helmet nodded as Heskan returned his attention to his wayward main. Data was flowing between the two sections now. As expected, Vernay’s run against the Saden main amounted to nothing. He scowled at the tactical plot, searching for the reason for the main’s failure. They were lined up perfectly against the rearguard and Wallace was so fixated on our van that he barely maneuvered it at all. He shook his head in disgust. The single consolation Heskan had carried into the pass was that even though his section was receiving an inexplicable amount of attention, his main section would deliver brutal strikes to the leading Saden ships of the rearguard. What could have happened?

  Damage updates on the fleet status screen began to flash into existence. It was quickly obvious that Seshafi’s vanguard took a severe thrashing. Curiously, Tigre, the snow sailing directly behind Dioscuri, received merely light damage. It appeared that most of the ships best positioned to fire at Tigre inexplicably had declined shots at the snow in favor of potshots against the Seshafian flagship.

  Behind Tigre, Fame and Jinete had received no such reprieve. Fame’s entire beam was a pockmarked wreck. The snow was still trailing debris, an ominous sign of deep, penetrating damage inside the ship. Jinete, bringing up the rear of the formation, fared even worse. Heskan had assumed the final position in the van would be the best protected since it would face lesser tonnage, but Wallace’s last-minute insertion of the Saden main into the combat pass gave the last third of that section little else to fire at. Consequently, Jinete had been so brutally ravaged that she had failed to turn with the vanguard and sailed with her lights dim.

  The only seeming value of Vernay’s maneuver was that it had positioned her ships to skirt between the Saden main and rearguard, affording the enemy little opportunity to target her section with accurate fire. Heskan lamented how it must have looked in real time. If I didn’t know any better, I would say that Vernay panicked and intentionally declined a combat pass with the enemy. The damning thought brought on the cold realization that the “armchair admirals” broadcasting from the multitude of media ships would soon be reporting on the display of apparent cowardice by Ajax’s captain. Heskan could already hear the condescending voice of Chase Fuller branding Seshafi’s newest ship captain a coward, appointed by their incompetent fleet commander.

  A voice crackled over the main section’s communication channel. It belonged to Commander Tannault. “Orders, ma’am?”

  Heskan resisted the urge to answer for his friend. The restraint came partially from his desire to allow her to assert her authority and partly from his anger at the situation she had created.

  A different voice to his left interrupted Heskan’s train of thought. “Captain, we’ve got fires in Engineering. The suppression system is working but Commander Jaffe wants pre-approval for a controlled decompression in the event the fires reach the alternate power conversion control room… our primary is gone.”

  The news knocked Heskan from his brooding. He swiftly looked at his first officer who now stood next to the Operations officer. Heskan nodded and said, “Approved. We can’t lose that compartment.” After a moment’s hesitation, Heskan asked, “How’s the core?”

  “It’s safe. The Number Two GP turret is destroyed, so is the aft Maclex. Missile ports are operative although Number Four has been decompressed.” Cottineau’s eyes darted about sheepishly before he left the console and took several steps to stand near Heskan. His voice grew faint. “Uh, sir… they’re asking in back-channels already…” The man glanced at the fleet status display before forcing eye contact
with his superior. “Are you, um, going to order another pass?” He looked away guiltily.

  They think I’m insane. Heskan appraised the posture of the officer next to him. Even Mike is afraid of me.

  Inside his helmet, Heskan heard Tannault’s second request for orders from Vernay. This time the appeal was sent over the fleet-wide channel.

  Heskan cleared his throat and loudly answered his first officer. “No, Commander. We’ve done a great job so far but it’s time to retire from this battle.” He leaned toward the Seshafian field officer and added, “I’m glad you said something, Mike, and if it will help ease concerns, you can let the back-channels know we’re finished here.”

  Vernay’s voice finally responded to Tannault’s query. It was distraught and barely audible. “Just… follow Ajax.”

  “Commander,” Tannault replied disgustedly at the minimal direction, “you need to fix the condition of our formation. We’re sailing about like absolute rabble. We’ve already shown that we haven’t the bollocks to face the enemy, do we need to show them we can’t maintain a proper formation as well?”

  Heskan saw Cottineau’s head jerk up at the public rebuke. He reached to his console to mitigate the firestorm from Vernay’s imminent riposte but faltered. They’re twenty-four light-seconds from us. That’s too far for me to try to inject myself into the conversation. Expecting the worst from Vernay, Heskan braced for impact.

  Instead of a fiery reproof, a shockingly sedate and defeated voice answered. “Standard separation, speed point one-five-C.”

  Heskan took several seconds repeating the muted answer to himself. The docility of the response caused him to wonder if another bridge officer on Ajax had answered for her. No, that was definitely Stacy’s voice. I expected her to be furious over both Tannault’s comment and the opportunity she missed during the combat pass. He scanned the tactical plot. The main section was beginning to reform. What the hell happened to them, anyway, he asked himself. There has to be a reason. Heskan worked the controls at his console and replayed the entire battle pass. His jaw dropped when Vernay gave the puzzling order that fragmented her section. A second replay later and Heskan could still see no apparent reason for the maneuver. Conflicted anger grew inside him as he surveyed the damage done to his fleet for nearly zero return. How many sailors died in that pass, he wondered. And for what? For us to barely scratch them? More than anything, he wanted answers.

  They would have to wait. “Incoming message from the C-Three ship, Captain.”

  “Play it, Evelyn,” Heskan ordered through clenched teeth.

  Captain Nguyen’s puzzled expression on the wall screen matched the tenor of his words. “What happened, Captain? Why did the main abort its run?”

  Heskan fought anger and disappointment. Anything I say now is going to be rebroadcast a thousand times in every Federation and corporate star system. “Unknown, Yon,” he answered simply. “Have we received anything from Admiral Wallace yet?”

  Nguyen’s reply came half a minute later. “Not yet, sir. His ships are beginning to swing around again. You don’t think he believes we’re going to accept a second pass, do you?”

  “No,” Heskan grumbled. “He just wants me to be the one that admits defeat.”

  Nguyen offered an answer that he hoped would mollify. “You were vastly outnumbered and your main disobeyed their orders… It wasn’t your fault. This can’t impugn your honor.”

  Heskan felt heat rise in his cheeks at the mention of Vernay’s baffling performance but he forced a smile on his face. “It’s okay, Yon. I’ve been defeated before and not ashamed to admit it. Besides, we achieved our primary objective and the sailors in the fleet performed brilliantly.” Inspiration struck him and his smile became more genuine. “I just hope that Wallace is able to accept the fact that his fleet couldn’t inflict more damage than they did when they carried such an extreme advantage.” He shrugged dramatically, knowing the holo-log of the conversation would get back to Wallace. “It must be mortifying for him but I guess he’s used to that by now.”

  Stifled barks of amusement around the bridge punctuated his statement. “I’ll send you our resignation to forward to Wallace in a couple minutes, Yon. Heskan out.”

  A curious Cottineau asked by Heskan’s side, “You’re really not upset, Captain?” After a head shake from his captain, the Seshafian’s mouth twitched upward. “You never fail to surprise me, sir. After you achieved the impossible in Seshafi, there was a lot of concern that you’d expect us to somehow prevail in this system too.”

  “Mike,” Heskan replied, “there’s more to war than who holds the ground after a battle. We’re going home with all our ships. We’ve delayed Saden aggression for several more months and bought us precious time to prepare for them.”

  “But,” Cottineau countered, “we could have done all that without the combat run. I know you were hoping to cripple one or two of their ships.”

  Heskan sighed while conceding, “Yes, that’s true.” He looked back at the tactical plot and focused his attention on Ajax’s blue symbol. “We’ll have to find out what went wrong and fix it.” After another long sigh, he said, “Well, let’s get this over with. Evelyn, start recording, please.”

  Heskan waited a beat and then looked to the center wall screen. “My compliments, Admiral Wallace…”

  * * *

  “You certainly positioned your ships to great advantage during our pass, Viscount. I just feel fortunate that I was able to maneuver my van in time to prevent any enduring damage.” The normally brash privateer turned fleet commander seemed almost penitent. “Extend my admiration to Admiral Lane as well. She reacted flawlessly and, I believe, achieved some hits against our flagship despite the considerable range between them. My hat goes off to Saden gunnery today, sir. I will decline any additional passes—”

  Their adversary’s submission elicited whoops of triumph throughout the Saden fleet command center. Wallace raised a hand to quiet the celebration but permitted a sly smile to leak through his otherwise stoic demeanor.

  “—and I hereby forfeit our entire casus bellum. My formation will dive out shortly. I believe Jinete is not currently tunnel capable and will require the services of your repair yard. Seshafi will, of course, pay the repair ransom.”

  “Bravo, Viscount,” Ladd complimented from next to Wallace. He looked up toward the admiral and said triumphantly, “You did it!”

  Wallace smiled passively. “Yes, but victory was never in question. We still missed our chance to eliminate that man permanently. I can only hope that the fool needlessly risks himself like that again in Seshafi. One thing is certain though. The loyalist on their side is real.”

  Chapter 10

  “Do you think I was wrong, Chief?”

  Chief Brown came to a halt in the corridor and looked at Vernay. Both were in standard, Seshafian duty uniform. The dark blue fabric, stripped of the garish accoutrements of the formal uniforms worn at important functions, was still a bit gaudy for Brown’s tastes. He examined the woman he towered over with sad eyes. Her rank was a commander’s but her broken and demoralized expression made her appear far more junior. “I don’t know why you did what you did, ma’am.” He waved off Vernay before she could respond. “An’ I don’t need to know, Commander. It’s not my place or style to be makin’ judgments like that about an officer I’m servin’ under.”

  Vernay’s shoulders slumped visibly, causing him to add, “You’re a hell of an officer, Commander. I’ve watched you almost yer entire career an’ I’ve never seen you freeze like that before. Not when you were firin’ at Blackheart while poor Ana was comin’ apart around us… not when the capt’n fell to the Parasites an’ you stepped up to lead us to safety.” The grey-haired chief smiled supportively. “An’ you’ve certainly retired enough Hollies with yer tactics and gunnery skills.” It was hard for Brown to watch when the diminutive officer failed to return his smile.

  “I sense a ‘but’ coming, Chief.”

  Brown nodded re
luctantly. “Yeah, well, nobody’s perfect, Commander. Everyone is goin’ to mess up from time to time.” He winced with regret. “Just a damn shame yer time came at such a critical moment.”

  Vernay became further crestfallen at his admission. She stared down at the hallway floor and her voice became distant and pitiful. “I know, but I couldn’t help doing what I did…”

  “Like I said, Commander. I’ve seen you save the capt’n from the Parasites. I watched you protect him from pirates an’ Hollarans alike. It’s been yer job fer a long time now.” He placed a hand on the smaller officer’s slumped shoulder and continued cheerlessly. “But it’s not yer place anymore. You’re not his first officer. You’ve gotta let that job go.” He gave Vernay a slight shake and looked at her grimly. “An’ if you can’t, then you need to get out.”

  Brown watched Vernay’s arms break out in gooseflesh as she absorbed the brutally honest advice. She meekly nodded while avoiding eye contact. “I’m sorry, Chief.”

  “Don’t be sorry, Commander. Learn from it an’ drive on.” Brown smiled at her and assured, “You’re goin’ to come away stronger fer this. I promise you that.” He gave a reaffirming nod and walked away.

  * * *

  Brown’s words still ringing in her ears, Vernay watched the father figure disappear around a corner. She turned in the opposite direction and continued down the corridor to arrive at the office of the Commander-in-Chief of Seshafi Naval Operations. She had been planet-side for only two hours, the fleet having arrived back in-system just six hours ago. As she expected, upon their successful dive back into Seshafi, she had received a request for conference from her fleet commander. Heskan had not spoken to her other than when he addressed the entire fleet after conceding the casus bellum in Sade. At the time, he remarked how proud he was of every sailor and the courage each displayed against overwhelming odds. Although Heskan’s voice contained a warm, genuine quality, Vernay knew the remarks were not directed at her.