Ghost Fleet

by D. A. Boulter

  “My Dear Listra,” he began. “Let me say, first of all, that I love you and that has been the one thing which has kept me together during this time of trouble. More than anything, I want to return to you.” Her eyes misted over again and she closed them, listening to his words, knowing that he’d never again speak with her. They had all lost so much.

  LORMAR

  The rescue efforts continued for days. Drifting ships were towed to high orbit from whence they’d be taken to repair docks or scrapping docks. The job of gathering bits and pieces for safety of navigation would continue for months, if not years.

  Shuttle after shuttle left the Primes for Lormar. They carried the bodies of the dead. In Brevniz and hundreds of other cities, towns and villages, graves were dug, funerals held and memorials planned. Those living, who had taken last leaves with the dead, went down to renew acquaintances and to attend the funerals.

  As the rescue operations slowly ran out of people to save, Star Admiral Sab Tlorth of the Tlartox contacted Fleet Admiral Fenton on Prime Alpha.

  “Fleet Admiral,” Tlorth greeted her with respect due to an honored foe. “Our operations are winding down and we would like to begin sending our ships back to Tlartox space, especially our hospital ships.”

  “I understand. We appreciate being kept informed, Star Admiral. And how is Fleet Admiral Tlomega?”

  “Sedated. It has been a difficult time.”

  “Yes,” Fenton agreed, as she unconsciously rubbed at her eye patch, “a very difficult time. Is there something else, Star Admiral Tlorth?”

  “Perhaps the Fleet Admiral didn’t understand,” Tlorth replied. “Is it safe to jump to hyperspace?”

  “Ah, of course.” Now she remembered. “Very safe, Admiral. Depart whenever you desire.”

  PREDATOR

  “We are ready to jump, Admiral Tlorth,” Captain Blontera informed her.

  “Good. The sooner we are gone from here, the better.”

  “Admiral, if I might ask?”

  “Captain?”

  “Is it true that the humans have agreed to herd tlenfel for us?” From Blontera’s voice it seemed that she couldn’t conceive it.

  “It is true, Captain.” The concession had surprised Sab, also. The Empire had required her to represent them in some of the negotiations, which had been held on Predator and on Lormar’s Prime Alpha. “Actually, they seem to be looking forward to it. They’ve already picked out a suitable planet.” Sab shook her head. “They’ve even gone further than that. They’re making plans for an area where tlenfel can run wild and those of the Tox who will, can hunt, just as Tlar had intended, claw against hoof. They have a name for it: tourism.”

  “Humans are strange,” Blontera concluded.

  “Agreed. But they are an honored foe.”

  “Yes, Star Admiral, that they are.”

  “Begin the jump, Captain, it is time to go home.”

  Blontera gave the order with a sigh of relief.

  PRIME ALPHA

  Within hours, most of the Tlartox ships had departed and the Confederation spacers, never quite trusting the peace, breathed a sigh of relief. Only a dozen Tlartox ships remained, salvaging hulks or guiding debris into paths which would see confidential material sliding into the star.

  The Adians transported their wounded to Mercy for treatment, then the long trip back to Adia. Rear Admiral Cenet requested permission to go aboard before she jumped to hyperspace and was surprised when the Adians denied his request.

  “It is a time for rest, Admiral,” Fenton told him. “They know of your gratitude and appreciate it.”

  Mercy winked out, and soon the last of the Tlartox, towing their damaged vessels that the Confederation not get a good look at their technologies, followed. In a similar manner, except where absolutely required, the Tlartox had conducted their own rescue missions on Empire ships while being denied access to Adian and Confederations ships. What Cenet found less understandable was the similar attitude of the Adians. In the end, outside the Primes, each had rescued mostly their own.

  * * *

  “Commander Britlot.”

  The formality in Feneya’s voice startled Britlot. He cursed himself. She had heard. She should have been the first to know, and now she’d heard from another source.

  “Feneya, I apologize. Rear Admiral Cenet was about to transfer me to another ship. I had to tell him then.”

  Weytok didn’t look convinced. “And when were you going to tell me? Just before you embarked or by tele-vid?”

  Britlot grimaced. “Ouch.”

  Ouch. Yeah, right, Weytok thought. She had thought she was beginning to know him. Apparently not. Love ’em and leave ’em; she hated that type.

  “Feneya, I was going to tell you at the same time I asked you to go with me.”

  Her heart began beating faster, but she wasn’t satisfied. He was asking her to give up her career, everything.

  “And if you wanted me, but weren’t able to give up your career, I was going to tell you that I would stay, will stay. But I have family there, Feneya. With Taglini gone, the only thing holding me here is you.”

  A slow smile came to Feneya’s lips and Britlot began to hope. “Then it is my decision?”

  “Except for my resignation, yes.”

  “Give me a day to pack.” Tears came to her eyes and Britlot came into her arms.

  “I’m coming, too!”

  Britlot and Weytok disengaged and turned to face Lieutenant Krirtol. “Lieutenant?”

  “I have a man there who loves me.”

  Britlot pursed his lips, but Weytok was unable to keep a straight face.

  “Yes,” Weytok finally replied, “but was it love or the excitement of leave?”

  “Doesn’t matter. If they’ll take me, I’m going.” She gave a broad grin. “It’s an adventure!”

  Britlot nodded. “I’ll inform the Rear Admiral and ask permission of the Fleet Admiral.”

  Britlot wasn’t particularly surprised to receive permission from both.

  * * *

  Admiral Blarenti and Rear Admiral Cenet invited the Adian officers to a going-away party. Representatives from all the surviving Adian vessels attended. Their severely damaged vessels had already departed—under tow—along with the provisions ships.

  “Fleet Admiral, if I might ask, what did your ships do to destabilize jumps to hyperspace?”

  “Admiral,” laughed Fenton, “do you want me to give away all of our secrets?”

  “Of course I do.”

  “Very well.” She walked over to a comm station and raised the Comm-Techs. Fenton specified an Aud frequency. When contact had been made she spoke four words only. “Time to show yourself.”

  “Emergence signal,” they heard from the command center.

  “Repeat it to our screen, please,” Fenton requested.

  On their screen they saw a small ship appear. Her lines were unknown to the Confederation officers. “Our secret weapon,” Fleet Admiral Fenton explained. “Equipment still classified ‘Most Secret’ allows Alliance to be almost undetectable in hyperspace. When a Tlartox ship began to jump she fired upon it, destroying it in the attempt. Slight of hand. Had they jumped an entire squadron, my bluff would have been called.”

  “I understood that you told young Britlot that Adia hadn’t built a new warship in three hundred years.”

  Fenton smiled. “You understood correctly.”

  There was not much that could be said to that, so no one said anything.

  Fenton’s smile grew. “Alliance is, ah, was a scientific research vessel. Her captain and crew were not members of the military, but agreed to test Alliance’s systems under war conditions. I hope it was not too hard on them.”

  “On the matter of Britlot, I hear you are stealing him and two other officers from us.” Cenet decided to change the subject.

  “Think of it as sending ambassadors. In time, we may have true ambassadors, until then this is the next best thing. Both sides will have time to
get used to each other.”

  Britlot appeared. “Admirals,” he greeted them. He no longer worried about speaking up in front of highly ranked personnel. “I understand that we are to be escorted back by Winter Sky.”

  “Aye, Commander. We thought you would be happier that way; and they could use an extra officer or two. They lost a few in that last battle.” Fenton smiled indulgently. “And I understand a certain young lieutenant has claimed you as salvage. She put forth a most impressive case. First of all, though, I would like you, Commander, to escort me back to Restigouche.”

  “A pleasure, Fleet Admiral.”

  EPILOGUE

  Restigouche had to be filled with people making repairs, yet on the way to the wardroom Britlot saw only a few. They were, he suspected, deliberately staying out of the Fleet Admiral’s way.

  “Have a seat, Commander,” Captain Kaldon offered. Britlot sat and Kaldon poured wine for the Admiral, Britlot and himself.

  “I’ve invited the captain of Alliance to join us. He expressed interest in meeting you.”

  The three sat sipping wine until the door chime sounded. They rose and Kaldon went to the door. “Commander Britlot, allow me to introduce Captain Efdur of Alliance.”

  Britlot didn’t allow his surprise to reach his face. “I had suspected,” he admitted as the Tlartox captain came into the room. They took each other’s hand and studied each other’s eyes.

  “Shads Efdur,” the Tlartox introduced himself.

  “Mart Britlot.”

  “Yes, I can see that. I have had many good games of Jaggar with Major Coll Britlot. Tell me, how is he?”

  “Alive and well, Captain Efdur.”

  Fenton looked at him with her one good eye. “You said you suspected. When and why?”

  “When the same seats remained empty in the Council Chamber during my questioning. At first I thought that my requests had upset the councilors. Perhaps they were pacifists. Then, when I heard of the unanimous decision to rebuild your fleets, I realized there had to be another reason they didn’t wish me to see them.”

  “Very good, Commander. Anything else?”

  “Your refusal to allow Rear Admiral Cenet on Mercy and our rescue teams to enter Adian vessels. The excuse of protecting your technology might work for the warships, but Mercy?” Britlot smiled disarmingly. “Then, back on Adia, your people spoke of neighbors, but no one gave any details. You kept me in windowless rooms, blacked-out vehicles and aircraft.” He shrugged. “It only stood to reason that some Tlartox explorers might get past the Phenomenon.”

  Efdur bared his teeth. “Congratulations, Commander. Quite right. We come from explorers and settlers who survived the Phenomenon and came to rest in the Sivon sector. We met the Adians and decided that the problems of the Empire and Confederation should not be ours. Over the last two centuries the populations of our respective planets have mixed and all planets under our control have large minorities of one or the other population. Living together was surprisingly easy.” He sat down and Captain Kaldon poured him something from a different bottle. “Thank you, Captain.”

  “I’m surprised that you—any of you—intervened at all.”

  “A lesson had to be taught. To you, to the Tlartox Empire and to the Combine.”

  “The Combine?”

  Efdur bared his teeth. “Yes, the Combine as well. The signals from Lormar didn’t go to just the Empire and Confederation, you know. I don’t think the Combine will wish to wage war with a species prepared to defend to the last person.”

  “I still don’t understand.” Britlot could see the sense of it if the war had involved the Adians, but it hadn’t.

  “You see, Commander, there are others out there, too. What you have been calling ‘The Phenomenon’ isn’t. It is a,” he searched for the word, “fence. Yes, a fence. There are many such units as destroyed some of the ships of the Émigrés. The one you encountered was likely not the same one. Ships from the Empire encountered still others. Who, or what, built that ‘fence’ we don’t know. We have begun to discover why, however.”

  Britlot sat, stunned. Then he began to understand why his comm signals hadn’t been able to get back to the Confederation. Had there only been one ‘Phenomenon’, reason suggested that if he couldn’t contact one star system, then he should be able to contact a different one in a different direction. But a fence!

  “We are within the fence. You are without, you, the Empire and the Combine. And there are Others, also without, who would like to see you—us—all fighting each other. We cannot have that.” Shads bared his teeth again. Other officers began to slip in and Britlot noted without surprise that a few of them were Tlartox.

  A sudden thought hit Britlot. “And if it had been us who had invaded Tlartox space? If the positions had been reversed?”

  Shads laughed loudly. “Then it would have been the Tlartox émigrés who would have come back to aid their fellow beings in the confrontation.”

  “With Adians in a supporting role,” Kaldon added.

  “Great Chaos,” Britlot muttered, shaking his head. “How long ...”

  Fleet Admiral Fenton answered that. “We’ve had thirty years to prepare for this. Your discovery of Adia was simply a fortuitous event. We would have come regardless. Maybe a little later, for many opposed this course of action. That opposition is why only now are new warships being commissioned. Even as late as last year, when we knew that there would be war between the Confederation and the Empire, a decision to intervene had not been reached. Yet our work in the Confederation, the Empire and the Combine went on regardless, in hope we could overcome this opposition. Your talk to the Council did that for us. So, Commander, we are in your debt.” Fenton sighed. “I’m tired, gentlemen. If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go sleep for a week.”

  The others stood. “So, Commander. Now that you know, do you still return with us?”

  “Aye,” Britlot nodded. “I’m coming home.”

  * * *

  Every screen on Lormar held the vid-stream from the Emergence Cam. One by one the masts on the Adian ships came down. Masts with half blasted away solar collectors.

  Mighty Restigouche led the way. Many of her turrets were mangled masses of armor and guns. Enemy fire had torn away a section of her great hammerhead bow and huge gaps in her outer hull spoiled her lines. The window appeared and Restigouche slipped through.

  One by one, the fleet followed her. Not a ship remained undamaged. Holes gaped in hulls, turrets stood torn and twisted, antenna arrays slagged, and whole sections of some ships just weren’t there any longer. Some seemed little more than wrecks, yet they all moved under their own power and no one doubted their ability to fight again, if required.

  And, as they left, Lieutenant Rensler, who had narrated their arrival, called out their names again. “Battleship Restigouche: two hundred and forty-eight dead, one hundred twenty-two wounded; Light Cruiser Meritie: thirty-three dead, twelve wounded; Destroyer Winter Sky: ten dead, twenty-one wounded; Destroyer Fendor’s Night...”

  Eighteen warships in all, bloodied but unbowed. Undefeated, reputation intact, the 22nd Fleet slipped through the window into hyperspace and disappeared.

  * * *

  Relnie Fronel wiped the tears from her eyes. Lemm would soon return home. Tempest had survived and would be decommissioned again. Those who had retired would return to retirement. He had made the tele-vid, explaining that, but Relnie had seen the look in his eyes. It would take a long time for him to be free of the memories. It would be a long time for all of them.

  “It’s over, Jol,” she commented as Colli turned off the vid. For the first time in days its images did not light the room. She didn’t care if that was the last time she ever watched it.

  “Yes, mother, it is over. At the factory they have already begun arguing about the length of the morning break and if we should grieve the three minutes it takes us to get to and from the factory floor.” He gave a wry grin and shook his head. It was over, but it never ended.
“Colli?”

  “Yes Jol?” With Melsie in bed, there was quiet in the house.

  “We’ve been invited to a wedding.”

  “Oh?” She looked up. No one she knew contemplated marriage. “Whose?”

  “Man named Rensol Nennor.”

  “Rensol Nennor? Isn’t that the man you’ve had so much trouble with?”

  “And the only one who offered to accompany me when I had to go into danger,” Jol confirmed. He hadn’t told her about that and her look of shock suggested that perhaps this hadn’t been the best way to bring it up. “He found someone during the crisis. Surprising how many did.”

  Colli looked at him for a long time. “We’ll have to get a good present then.” She’d hear the story later, she decided. At least she still had her spouse. So many didn’t.

  SPACEDOCK BRAVO II

  Captain Benteel sat in the Officers’ Lounge. She nursed a drink. The vid showed the Adian Fleet’s exit. Most people watched with interest. Some did not. Behind her she heard the now obnoxious voice of Vice Admiral Knerden.

  “If they hadn’t given that lousy ‘cease hostilities’ order, my fleet would have been deep in Tlartox territory causing them unbelievable problems. Now,” he grunted irritably, “even the Combine is talking peace. What’s a navy man to do?”

  Captain Benteel stood slowly, aware that she definitely should not do this. Tipsy, not in the best shape for making such a decision, she plowed forward nonetheless. She grinned to herself. Better that way.

  “Vice Admiral Knerden,” she addressed him. He looked up. “Vice Admiral Knerden, you are a child.” She turned and left the flabbergasted Admiral behind. “Pity you weren’t here to see it, Tag,” she murmured. “You would have loved it.”

  She walked unsteadily down the companionway to her quarters, to the only home she knew.

  END