“What,” I asked, surprised to hear the First Officer’s voice coming from the speaker built into the bed.
“I hate to bother you, Admiral, but something’s come up,” he said, sounding anything but upset at rousting his Admiral literally from his sick bed.
Maybe I’d earned it by endorsing a move that put a bunch of barbarians on the ship under the pretense of making them marines. Or Lancers rather, as this was supposed to be a Confederation outfit now. Hadn’t you heard? Admiral Montagne himself said so! I snorted.
“Oh, go on, Mr. Tremblay,” I said, wearily turning my attention back to the speaker.
It seems our long lost pair of corvettes has finally arrived,” said the First Officer, “I just thought you’d want to know.”
“Long lost… I wasn’t aware they were missing,” I said. “But then, I’ve been unconscious or otherwise engaged ever since we entered the system.”
“As you say, Admiral,” said the Officer.
The thought of what kind of tales might spread around the fleet and over to the corvettes popped through my head. Natives, as marines for the Lucky Clover, was the least of it as far as Captain McCruise would be concerned. The last thing I needed was her taking offense at the decision to transfer the Belter’s main dish.
Much as I hated to admit it, I needed to get in front of this situation before miscommunications had the chance to queer the deal and screw everything up.
“I’ll be right up,” I said and cut the connection. I lay back in bed for one last peaceful moment before gingerly swinging my legs over the side. This was no time to be laying around, there work to be done around this orbital ranch.
Chapter 36: Let's make a trade
“You look like you’ve been to Hades and back, Admiral,” said Synthia McCruise, the only surviving captain of the two recently arrived old style Confederation corvettes. She gave me an appraising look.
“I won’t be winning any beauty contests,” I said deprecatingly. I returned her appraising look the best I could. Other than a few more signs of stress and worry than were present the last time we talked, she looked exactly the same.
For a man whose face was still a wreck of healing burns and scar tissue, I knew I should be the last one to throw stones, but this woman was still as unattractive as ever. She had the same hatchet face, and woman-on-the-wrong-side-of-middle-age look to her.
“Better get that face fixed before you try wooing the lady’s again,” she said with a smile.
“Err, that shouldn’t be a problem,” I said with a straight face. “I’m already spoken for.”
“Careful,” warned the Confederation reservist. “If she sees you like this, she might change her mind.”
I barked a laugh. “I doubt it's my face that will turn her off. It's one of those semi-arranged dynastic things,” I said as truthfully as possible, without giving the game away. “In her culture, I think scars are a good thing.”
“Ever hear about too much of a good thing...” asked the Lieutenant Commander in command of the two corvettes.
“Anyway,” she continued seriously. “Fun as it is to catch up, and although I’m curious about how you managed to pick up all those new scars in just a few days time, that’s not the reason I called,” she said, looking at me expectantly.
“Ah, the Belters,” I said knowingly.
“Yes. The Belters,” she said, giving me a level look. “What’s this I hear about taking away their main hyper dish?”
“The Belters want to stay and mine trillium. The Caprian Settlers want to put this system behind them. A rogue pirate limpet mine took out the Caprian’s dish just after they point transferred,” I said, recounting events to the best of my ability. “It's as simple as that. The Caprians want to leave and the Belters don’t. So they get the hyper dish and the Belters get to squeal.”
“And the fact the Caprian’s are from your home world has nothing to do with it,” she said questioningly. “Are you sure there isn’t a little unconscious bias factored in there somewhere?”
I threw back my head and laughed. “I can assure you any biases I have are of the fully conscious variety,” I said, genuinely chuckling.
At her slightly alarmed look, I shook my head.
“Those Caprians want away from me and Tracto VI as fast as their star drive will carry them and, for my part, I’ll be happy to see the last of them. My biases are coming at things from the other direction entirely,” I said with a laugh.
She paused, and might have even bit her lip unconsciously. “Even still, I think my point stands,” she finally said.
“If the Belters suddenly decide they want to leave this system, I’ll reconsider. But as long as they want to stay, House Zosime and the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet are ensuring they will be more than adequately reimbursed for their troubles. Any Caprian that wants to stay, up to and including the entire settlement ship, is free to join the new colony. We don’t need the rest hanging around orbit with a grudge,” I pointed out.
“But the risk,” she argued, “They say you are unwilling to escort them back to Confederation space. That they will be at the mercy of pirates and rogues until they arrive at their new home world,” she said, looking at me expectantly.
If she was hoping for me to disprove the rumor, she was about to be disappointed.
“This ship has provided them with a safe haven and the offer of joining a new colony if they feel the risks are too great for leaving here. Or they can wait in orbit until the MSP,” I said, pausing at her surprised look, “that’s the Multi-Sector Patrol Fleet, can spare a ship or two to escort them. Either way, it’s not my problem.”
“Still-” she started.
I cut her off. “Like your unit, this ship has an obligation to something bigger than one settlement ship that would like a cushier set up. We’ve been out of contact with the Confederation, not to mention the rest of our fleet. We need to touch base and let the rest of the galaxy know we’re still alive, and see if anyone else needs help. Not to mention many of my crew are growing restless and need some reassurance that their families are okay amid all of this political turmoil.”
“I see you won’t be swayed from your course,” she said with resignation.
“I’m afraid not,” I replied as softly as I thought I could afford.
“It's shaky grounds, forcibly removing critical equipment from one group of civilians and granting it to another, but since that’s not a factor, let's shift the discussion.”
“Perhaps about why your corvettes took so long getting here,” I shot back, not wanting to relinquish the initiative.
She quirked a smile, “Perhaps.” She looked off to the side of her display before relenting with a sigh. She turned serious before continuing. “My little Pride is holding up fine with a few hastily rigged repairs here and there. But the Perseverance can continue no more. At least not safely,” she said, looking grim. “There’s a crack in her main deflector dish that we thought we had under control after it broke down en-route to here. But the last few jumps the damage has grown worse. I think we can only consider moving her at dire need, for risk of stranding her crew in cold space.”
I frowned. “That doesn’t sound good. If there’s anything my engineers or the Belter work crews can do, I’m sure everyone in the system is pulling for the Perseverance.”
“Thank you,” she said with a curt nod.
“This actually makes an idea I’ve been toying around with more practical than before,” I said, thinking hard. I had only toyed around with the idea before because of the great disparity in values, but with new Trillium mines on the way, perhaps the problem could be papered over.
“Idea,” she said suspiciously, “what idea has crawled into that Flag ranked head of yours?”
“I’m not sure you’ll like the idea, but I think you’ll agree it's for the best. All factors considered, of course,” I quickly added at her instant frown.
“I’m liking this less and less by the second,” she said flatly
.
“It's really not that bad,” I defended boyishly.
“Just spit it out. Whatever’s crawling around inside that devious, battle scarred head of yours,” she said.
“I was thinking of a swap,” I said with a twinkling grin.
Her forehead wrinkled, “What kind of swap are we talking about.”
“Well, it's my understanding that you’re based out of an old Star Base, your corvette squadron that is, and that it's still functional,” I said, then clarified yet again, “the star base I mean.”
“Yes,” she said shortly, obviously not liking where this was going.
“Well I have one ship, a trio of damaged pirate ships, and a system that needs defending from Bugs while I’m gone back to the Confederation with the Lucky Clover,” I continued.
“What’s that have to do with me and my ships,” she interrupted. “I’m not sure I can afford to leave both ships here. The damaged one can stay of course, I can’t risk moving her, but the Pride is needed back at the base.”
“See, that’s just the thing. I don’t know your exact situation, but surely if your base commander sent you out to escort three Settler ships with just the two of you, that must mean he’s short of ships somehow,” I said, my grin cracking a little wider.
“Perhaps,” Synthia said. “What’s all this speculation have to do with those of us out here?”
“You have two damaged ships. Two corvettes, measuring about a hundred thirty meters that might be repairable with the resources we have here. I, on the other hand, have a damaged heavy cruiser, over 560 meters in length. True, it's been run into the ground by pirates, and so there’s no way I can get her refitted out here. Not in this lifetime, anyway. That’s why I’m thinking we should make a trade and swap your two corvettes for my heavy cruiser,” I said, finishing with my best winning smile.
From the look on her face, my smile probably had more in common with a hideous grimace than anything else, but at least she seemed willing to consider the matter instead of rejecting it out of hand.
“Forgetting for the moment the little fact that I’d be handing over official Confederation equipment, a Confederation warship no less, in return for a pirate ship,” she mused with a slow shake of her head.
“Don’t think of it as handing over official equipment to some provincial defense force. Think of it instead as a lateral transfer from one Confederation fleet organization to another,” I injected with my most convincing voice.
“Still,” she cut back in, “I don’t have the authority to just hand over my command to someone I’ve never met until this week.”
“So leave a small training cadre. I was intending to use some of my own people as the core and fill the ship’s out with new recruits, anyway. Having more trained hands on board is not going to hurt anything. We can take the other cruiser back with us and, if your base commander won’t go for it, you can always return with a new crew and new orders.”
“I’m not sure,” she said, obviously wavering, “a heavy cruiser would significantly increase our combat power in the long term, but right at the moment, as you know, we just don’t have enough hulls to take care of everything that needs doing.”
“So let's make an agreement in principle and head back together to speak with your base commander," I suggested, more than a little pleased at how receptive she was to the idea. "If he agrees, we’ll make the exchange and your side can just owe my side a favor or, if it needs to be all official, whatever the difference turns out to be between the assessed value of the three ships,” I finished.
“Don’t forget just who captured those two cutters you’ve still got strapped to your hull,” she said abruptly.
It was then I knew I had won. It was all over but the devil in the details and a few more protests.
“If my Base Commander goes for the swap like I think he will, then I can’t afford to leave a lot of trainers onboard the two corvettes. Just enough to see to our interests and make sure your guys don’t break anything. You’ll have to cadre the ships on your own,” she said, driving a hard bargain.
“Alright,” I said agreeably. For a moment there, I had actually hoped to get away without losing any of my few trained personnel.
“Of course, we’ll ride home in the Pirate Cruiser as well,” she said.
“It’s not in the best condition,” I warned.
“If it’s repairable, then we’ll need our own people on her as soon as possible,” she said flatly.
“Fine,” I said, raising my hands (including the one with the healing cast) in the air to mime surrender.
She stopped and looked at the cast, then looked back up at me and raised an eyebrow.
When I didn’t reply, only giving a quirk of my mouth, she spoke in a low voice, “You have been through a war, haven’t you?”
“Had to save a few natives from the Bugs,” I said, visibly shrugging it off. “Then there were a few complications down on the surface when they were returned and a meet and greet with the local rulers went sour.”
She nodded in agreement at the word complications.
I frowned. “Anyway, have your legal department contact mine to go through the details. After they’ve hammered something out, we’ll be ready to charge the jump engines and blow this hole. In the meantime, you can send over a few people to survey the ship and, after we get some new crews on your corvettes, we can egress this system,” I said briskly, returning to the character of Admiral-in-control.
“If something can be hammered out,” she grumbled, clearly not enthused at the thought of giving up her command for a trash filled former pirate warship, heavy cruiser or not, and cut the signal.
Chapter 37: To depart or not to depart
The expected delay for exiting the Tracto System was pushed back even further, as a surprising number of Caprian Settlers decided they either wanted to join the new colony down on the surface, or sign up with the Confederation Fleet.
Parliament had a tendency to encourage royalist members of our population to join the settlement efforts, not coincidentally leaving parliamentary-ruled Capria with fewer potential dissidents. So it wasn’t surprising that this ship was mostly filled with pro-monarchy settlers.
What was surprising was that just less than one in twenty of these former Caprian royalists were willing to place themselves under a Montagne Royal and settle their families on Tracto VI. Even if he was openly serving in the Confederation Fleet and the system was a potential gold mine of resources.
Down in the main cargo hold, I was holding a formal meet and greet, and Lieutenant Tremblay looked like he was about to have a stroke.
First we had filled the ship with natives, then a bunch of bereaved Promethean survivors recruited by Akantha had shown up. As far as the First Officer had been concerned, for my next amazing trick I had tempted a number of old Caprian Royalists aboard, along with their now fully-grown children with families of their own.
Unlike the native warriors and mostly untrained, yet enthusiastic Prometheans, the Caprian Royalists were comprised of a surprising number of former military. Both officers and enlisted personnel, it seemed the people joining The Clover had left Capria either due to age or discrimination, at least according to the few I had personally spoken with. Parliamentary ‘new’ men got all the good jobs, eventually forcing them onto half pay, or out of the system defense forces entirely as a younger crop of more politically reliable officers and enlisted joined the ranks.
Among a number of overly experienced and (hopefully) untarnished jewels, I even had a former officer in the Royal Lancers, a unit once modeled after the Confederation Lancers and fanatically loyal to the Royal Family before it was disbanded by Parliament as being too pro-monarchy. They were feared to be too susceptible to sedition, post-coup.
In addition, there was a grizzled old gunner. He actually looked young when placed side by side with our Chief Engineer, as he was right now. Even though he was on the wrong side of middle age, the man had already endeared himse
lf to me. I had not a clue as to his actual competence, but not two minutes into standing beside Lieutenant Spalding he had my Chief Engineer red in the face and all but snarling something about Engineering departmental pride. There were a couple of other SDF fleet officers, but I was sending the ones with actual command experience over to the corvettes. They might have a few decades of rust on them, but that was better than anything the Clover could boast. Plus, I figured with four damaged ships to work up and repair, having Captains with actual command experience (no matter how previous that experience happened to be) would help ensure there was a human population in the system for us to protect when we returned.
With a pair of cutters and two corvettes, I figured there was now a good chance I could safely leave the system.
Admiral Who? (A Spineward Sectors Novel:) Page 40
