They stood glaring at each other for several more moments.
Unable to take the silence, Gallant said, “You’re a real character, but we view our roles very differently.”
The supervisor frowned and shrugged. “My men and I have done everything possible to see that this ship will do just fine. Don’t go making trouble. You need to sign off on these repairs and accept responsibility for the ship.” The man wagged his finger at Gallant, “I’ve done my duty; now go do yours.”
Gallant could restrain his anger no longer. “I fail to see your so-called duty coming into play here. I’m responsible to see that you do your job. I want you to recall your engineering crew and get to work completing the items on this list. Otherwise, I won’t sign off.”
The inspector looked away and snorted. He shook his head causing the hair to rise on the back of his neck. Then he stuck out his chin as if anticipating the worst, but with a cool grin he said, “If you think I'll do that, you’re mistaken.”
A sigh escaped Gallant’s pressed lips as he fought to maintain his composure.
The grin on the inspector’s face widened as if he believed he had gained the upper hand. “I made a request earlier today, but I haven't received the documentation, the equipment, or the support personnel that I would need to complete the work you wish.”
“There’ll be an investigation if this isn’t done properly and on time,” Gallant said carefully, knowing that any investigation would come too late to serve his purpose.
“You're straining my neck by making me look up at you. Shift around so I can get a better look,” said the inspector.
Gallant didn’t move. “This is ridiculous. Why can’t you come out and state the obvious truth that you’re behind schedule, and you have failed to meet certain specifications?”
The inspector pouted and said, “You’re stuck, lieutenant. I’ve seen your departure date. You’ve got to get going. There’s no time to do everything you want. Just sign off and be done with it.”
“I see you’re feeling quite proud of yourself, aren't you?”
“I'm only trying to do my job.”
Gallant spread his hands and said, “Let me put my cards on the table: Things need a lot of adjustments, and my crew will be working around the clock to make them. One serious problem is the need to calibrate the stealth equipment. It requires specialized equipment and expertise that is only available at this shipyard.” He leaned close to the little man and showed him a new list: “This is a reduced list identifying our most critical remaining requirements. They must be completed in twenty-four hours, or I’ll be unable to perform my mission.”
The revised list was one tenth the length of the original.
The inspector warmed to the compromise. He said, “Good. You’re thinking more clearly at last, lieutenant. This list is possible. I might be able to get a crew working—on overtime—mind you,” said the inspector as he rubbed his chin. “Are you willing to authorize overtime pay—with bonuses?”
Gallant sighed,
There it is. That’s what he’s been angling for all along.
He swallowed hard and said, “I’ll authorize the NNR overtime pay and bonuses.” He extended his hand and added, “I appreciate your cooperation, inspector.”
The inspector pumped his hand. Gallant had no doubt that the inspector’s personal bonus would be substantial—not to mention the reward NNR would bestow on him for closing this account to their advantage.
Twenty four hours later, the Warrior completed all critical repairs and upgrades.
CHAPTER 12
Orders
Seated in his cabin aboard the Warrior, Gallant read—and then reread—his secret orders. Admiral Collingsworth had promised an ambitious mission, but the daring and scope of the proposal before him took his breath away. His mission was divided into two phases. The first phase was to disrupt the Titan war capacity by spying, intriguing, and sabotaging the Titan fleet and its bases around Jupiter and Saturn. The second phase would remain under sealed orders until the first phase was satisfactorily completed. While sealed orders were normal enough, they placed him in the awkward situation of suppressing his natural curiosity. Reluctantly, he placed the package of sealed orders back in his safe and locked it.
Turning his attention to the phase one instructions and their associated parcels, he sorted the different documents and the special devices accompanying them. He undertook to study the contents. The items included electronic monitoring equipment, some of which he found unfamiliar, so he put them aside for the time being. There were also supplemental guidelines for various options he could undertake during the course of the mission; those, too, he put aside. His need to be thorough led him to read the main document through twice. Then he rose and began pacing in the confined cabin—five steps forward, five steps back—all that space allowed. Soon he sat back down, only to get up again and resume pacing. Overall, he was impressed with the generous leeway the admiral had allowed him. He was tempted to keep the main sections of his orders secret from his officers. But he recognized that wouldn’t be fair.
Gallant summoned his officers to the wardroom. Roberts, Clay, Walker, Gabriel, and several others were crammed into the diminutive room. Only the duty officers were absent. As senior chief, Chief Howard was included.
“Gentlemen, I would like to share with you the gist of our mission statement and read you into this special operations program.”
The complete silence spoke volumes about their anticipation. All eyes were glued on Gallant, except for Gabriel’s, who sat with his mouth slightly agape and staring intently at the orders in his captain’s hands.
“Over the next few months,” Gallant said, “we will be conducting special operations in Titan territory, in particular Jupiter and Saturn; code name ULTRA. In preparation for these activities, we will conduct extensive stealth training on our journey to Jupiter.”
Gallant didn’t mention the far-reaching alien communications language studies he would have to undergo. He kept that to himself along with his apprehension that his translation skills would be stretched to their limits.
The quiet murmur was quickly overwhelmed by noisy chatter as the men reacted excitedly to the news.
After a minute of patience, Gallant silenced the gathering once more.
“We will be completely on our own with no support of any kind, so we must be frugal with everything we have and everything we do. That includes protecting each other and our crew. We are all we have. So do your best, knowing we serve a mighty purpose.”
A hush hung over the room until Gabriel exclaimed, “Wow, I can’t wait!”
Everyone looked at him, and then a boisterous laughter broke out.
Howard chuckled, “Youth is fleeting—old lasts a lot longer.”
***
An hour later, there was a knock on Gallant’s cabin door. “Enter.”
“Hello, Henry,” said Lieutenant Commander McCall.
Standing as she entered the cabin, Gallant said, “Commander, I thought you completed your business with CIC. We’ve just stationed the maneuvering watch. We depart within the hour. Is there something else I can do for you?”
The SIA agent sat down on his cot and handed him a tablet. Surprised, Gallant took the tablet and began reading the set of orders. When he was through he slowly sat down.
“This can’t be right,” he said, frowning.
“And why not?” asked the blonde with a coy expression.
“I’ve had no prior instructions regarding taking a passenger on our mission.”
“Not a passenger—a special agent,” she corrected in a pleasant but authoritative voice, “specifically tasked to analyze and evaluate the data you acquire.”
Gallant stared at her, contemplating his new circumstances. Having an SIA agent make intelligence judgments on the military material they gathered—right at its source—made sense. It would increase Fleet Command’s confidence in the intelligence the Warrior sent, but why choose McC
all? Gallant recalled her fixation with his talents. Was there more to her assignment than the orders revealed?
Gallant tapped his comm pin: “Bridge, this is the captain; have the XO report to my cabin.”
A moment later Roberts poked his head into the doorway and said, “You wanted to see me, skipper?”
“Come in, XO.”
Roberts squeezed into the congested cabin.
“Mr. Roberts, this is Lieutenant Commander McCall. She has special expertise in Titan communications and will serve as SIA liaison to CIC during our mission.”
“Err, yes, sir.”
“Commander McCall, I’m pleased that we will have your skills available during this undertaking. I think you’ll find our CIC techs are well prepared, but I am sure they will welcome your input. I look forward to consulting with you when we prepare our findings and recommendations for Fleet Command.”
McCall smiled and said, “Captain, I will, of course, in no way interfere with your command decisions while aboard this ship, but with all due respect, I expect to have rather more say than merely providing input to CIC. You’ve read my orders. I am to adjudicate findings and conclusions drawn from any collected intelligence.”
“Actually, that’s not my interpretation of your orders. And aboard my ship, I insist upon having the final word in all matters—captain’s privilege. I’m sure you understand.”
McCall stood and scrutinized each man in turn. Gallant stood and stared back at her, his jaw set. He made the assessment that while she had no intention of being limited by his politely delineated boundaries, she was weighing how much she needed to push back at this precise moment.
“As you say, captain’s privilege,” and she bowed her head in apparent acquiescence.
“You can take up your duties immediately,” Gallant said. “We’ll arrange a data management meeting in CIC after we get underway. I would appreciate your written plan of action for dealing with critical intelligence as we acquire it.”
McCall hesitated a moment under Gallant’s sharp gaze before she said, “I’ll have the report within a day.”
She seemed to recognize that by agreeing to his first demand she was ceding him more authority than she wished to acknowledge. “Also, I would like to send a message to SIA before we leave, to clarify our understanding of my role aboard.”
“I’m sorry, commander, but the ship is now under a communications blackout per our mission orders.”
McCall’s clenched teeth convinced Gallant that he had dealt adequately with what might have become a difficult situation. He began to plan his activities for the ship’s departure.
“Mr. Roberts, I’m sorry to inconvenience you, but I am assigning your cabin to Commander McCall. You will have to double up with members of the wardroom. I’ll leave the arrangements to you.”
Gallant was distinctly pleased with himself for phrasing that demand as he did since every cubic meter aboard the sloop was already accounted for, several times over. How Roberts was going to find any spare room was difficult to imagine.
Roberts, already uncomfortable after witnessing the exchange between the senior officers, was now doubly so at finding he was to lose his stateroom as well.
“Aye aye, sir. Is there anything else, sir?”
“Yes. Please show Commander McCall to her cabin. Thank you; that will be all.”
From the look McCall gave Gallant as she left—that wouldn’t be all.
***
Gallant posted the less sensitive parts of the phase one orders in the crew’s mess, and the Warrior set course toward the asteroid belt. Before long she was weaving past large rocks and blasting small ones. The crew’s drills improved their proficiency in deploying and recharging the stealth technologies. Several crew members, who had attended specialized school at SIA, were now able to pass their newly acquired knowledge on to their shipmates.
The mission was so highly dependent on communications that Gallant considered replacing Gabriel as communication officer. Roberts met with him to discuss this point and championed replacing Gabriel.
To his own surprise, Gallant said, “No. I won’t replace him. We’ll support him. He’ll be fine,” thereby putting the matter to rest.
CHAPTER 13
Convoy
Gallant’s cabin was pitch-black with the exception of several flickering lights on the ship’s status console above his head. He took note that all the lights were green—no red lights meant no emergencies. He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly while remaining curled up on his side, semi-conscious, listening to the routine noises around him—the incessant whistling from the ventilation, the repetitious groaning of the bulkheads, and the buzzes, beeps, and honks, emanating from control consoles on the bridge a dozen meters away.
A single sharp ping from the bridge caused him to sit up, alert. He stretched fretfully, pulling his thoughts together, and glanced at the chronometer. He prepared to get up, but the warmth of the bed tempted him to use the few moments of grace left to him to rest. Already dressed from having slept in his uniform, he touched the AI console for a quick report of the ship’s operating parameters. Everything looked nominal; nevertheless, he threw his legs over the side of the bed and waited for the report.
“Captain to the bridge!” blared from the overhead speaker.
He bolted out the door, into the passageway, and bolted the dozen steps to the bridge.
“Captain on the bridge,” said the officer of the deck.
“Carry on,” said Gallant, his eyes sweeping the control displays, looking for alerts.
The bridge crew continued their duties, but their intense faces told Gallant they were keyed up for action.
“Contacts?” he asked.
The OOD said, “We have three large contacts at the edge of radar range, sir.”
“Show me.”
Gallant slipped into the chair next to the radar tech and stared at the display. The Warrior’s sensor technology was state-of-the-art and was expected to pick up contacts long before any other ship could find them. As he observed the radar screen, the three large blips began to resolve themselves into three separate formations of ships.
“Why isn’t the IFF identifying the targets?”
“We’re still too far to pick up friendly IDs, sir.”
“Very well.”
After five days’ travel, the Warrior was in the middle of the asteroid belt. Nearly all UP ships had been recalled to Mars, so coming upon ships in this area was a surprise.
Gallant marched into the center of the bridge and the OOD immediately vacated the command chair. He sat down and pulled up several screens, giving him the complete picture of all the ship’s activities. Satisfied that everything was operating normally, he turned his attention to the contacts. Drumming his fingers on the armrest of the chair he thought,
Could all of these formations be Titans?
The minutes dragged on, and the chatter on the bridge returned to normal. The OOD checked the radar status several times, but the contacts were little changed.
Finally, “Bridge, CIC; we can identify the two nearest ship formations. The closest consists of twelve UP transports heading toward Mars. Its course will intersect and cross ahead of the Warrior’s at close range. The second formation appears to be UP warships, but we can’t identify individual ships yet.”
“CIC, bridge,” Gallant responded. “Any idea what UP ships are doing in the middle of the asteroid belt with Titans all over the place?”
“Bridge, CIC; There is an NNR mining colony in the area. Our best guess is that this might be a last minute evacuation, sir,” said the CIC analyst.
“CIC, bridge; then that second formation could be an escorting task force?”
“Bridge, CIC; affirmative, sir.”
“CIC, bridge; what about the third formation trailing behind?”
“Bridge, CIC; my guess is that would be the bad guys, sir.”
“Officer of the deck, engage stealth mode,” Gallant ordered.
> “Engage stealth mode, aye aye, sir.”
“Operations, bridge,” the OOD said, “Initiate confinement field and bring stealth battery utilization to standard power.”
“Bridge, operations; aye aye, sir,” responded the operations compartment LPO as he made manual adjustments on his control manifold. The process of creating a confinement field from quark-color charges using their Higgs superconductor battery required a great deal of energy. When the superconductor battery was discharging at the standard rate, the operator proceeded to generate a cloak confinement field around the ship that absorbed all incident particles and emissions, rendering the ship invisible and undetectable.
It took three minutes for the Warrior to disappear from the detectable universe.
A few minutes later, CIC identified the first formation of UP ships as twelve transports, and the second UP formation as one battle cruiser and six destroyers. The third group was a large formation of Titan warships chasing the others.
“The battle cruiser is the Repulse, sir,” reported CIC.
A minute later CIC reported that the Titan force consisted of a cruiser-destroyer squadron totaling thirty-six ships. The Warrior’s current course would lead them close to the fleeing ships and their pursuers.
Gallant was aware that the war situation had deteriorated to the point that operations within the asteroid belt were risky for any UP ship. Outposts and observation stations were still being abandoned for fear of being cut off and strangled by enemy forces. He saw the evacuation of this mining colony as a measure that should have been undertaken much earlier. The fact that they were using a dozen transports, a battle cruiser, and half a dozen destroyers was evidence of their commitment to see it through, but evidently this operation was a result of reticence and miscalculation. He couldn’t be sure if the culprit was Fleet Command, or NNR, or both.
Henry Gallant and the Warrior (The Henry Gallant Saga Book 3) Page 7
