by Ryk Brown
“Which includes several trips between Earth and Tanna, all of which were jumped at less than a quarter light, correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Maybe we don’t even need to carry so much propellant.” Nathan suggested. “After all, this ship was originally designed to travel using linear FTL propulsion, which uses a lot of propellant to get up to transition speeds. With the jump drive, we don’t need such capabilities.”
“What would you do with the gained space?” Commander Willard inquired.
“I don’t know. Weapons? Cargo? Expand our pressurized crew space? There’s got to be something we could do with the space we would gain.”
“I’ll run it past the cheng,” Commander Willard said. “Personally, I’d choose more plasma cannons.”
“Me too,” Nathan agreed.
“In fact, we also have unused space in the aft section,” the commander added. He turned back toward the main view screen on the forward bulkhead, switching schematics with his data pad. “Here and here,” he said, highlighting the indicated sections on the ship’s schematics, “on either side, above each outboard engine. Five bays per side, complete with bay doors that open to the outside. All of them can be pressurized as well. They’re accessible via the access tunnel that connects the forward and aft torpedo bays.”
“I remember those,” Nathan realized. “They were put in to accommodate future weapons technologies. Things that existed in the Data Ark, but we didn’t have the infrastructure and technology in place to begin developing them.” Nathan studied the schematics for a moment before continuing. “Mention them to the cheng as well,” he added, “although I doubt we’ll be able to do much with either spaces until after the Karuzara arrives. After all, we’ve got enough to repair as it is, without trying to upgrade anything else right now.”
“I’m sure the lieutenant commander would agree with you, sir,” Commander Willard said.
“I’m sure he would, Commander.”
The XO looked uneasy. “Sir, about my rank. Perhaps I should only be a Lieutenant, or a Lieutenant Commander at the most.”
“You don’t like being a commander?”
“No, sir, it’s not that. It’s that it feels wrong for me to outrank people such as Lieutenant Commander Nash, or Lieutenant Commander Kamenetskiy, or…”
“You can’t really be a proper XO if you don’t outrank pretty much everyone on board, except for me, of course.”
“I understand that, sir. However, I still feel uncomfortable giving orders to such people. After all, they have been with you so much longer.”
“Get used to it, Commander,” Nathan insisted. “It’s part of getting promoted.”
“Yes, sir,” the commander answered. “I’m sorry, sir.”
“Look,” Nathan said, changing his tone, “I know what you’re going through. I felt the same way when I took command. I went from ensign to lieutenant to captain in the course of a week.—I think it was a week.—Anyway, point is, I had the same issues. I imagine most people would.—Except for Cameron. I’m pretty sure she had no trouble at all getting used to ordering others around.—But don’t tell her I said that.”
“No, sir.”
“If it makes you feel any better, neither of the two you spoke of cares that you outrank them.” Nathan cocked his head to one side, his left eyebrow shooting up. “Well, Lieutenant Commander Kamenetskiy didn’t care. Lieutenant Commander Nash? Well, I’d avoid giving her a direct order, at least for a while yet.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Just keep doing your job, Commander,” Nathan told him. “Do it well, and you’ll feel the respect of those you command.”
“Even from Lieutenant Commander Nash?”
“Hey, she got used to Marcus as chief of the boat, didn’t she?”
“She did? When?”
Nathan laughed. “Did you get a chance to review the latest status reports from Karuzara?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Yes, sir. I showed the Ghatazhak transport schedules to Lieutenant Telles, and he assures me that they will have the basics in place on Porto Santo by the time the first group of Ghatazhak reinforcements arrive next week.”
“That quickly?”
“Apparently Lieutenant Commander Nash was quite convincing. The locals are being very helpful.”
“The additional food we sent down probably didn’t hurt, either,” Nathan added.
“Yes, sir. Have you sent word of the destruction of Kent back to the Pentaurus cluster?”
“I was about to,” Nathan told him. “I was waiting for confirmation of the platform’s course and speed.”
Commander Willard could see the concerned look on his captain’s face. “Then it is coming to Earth?”
“It appears so,” Nathan answered. “It only did a short FTL hop and then used Proxima to alter its trajectory toward us.”
“Very clever.”
“Yes. Not only did they save themselves some propellant, but had we not been following them, we would have mistakenly assumed they were headed elsewhere.”
“How long?”
“Eighty-two days.”
“Not much time,” the commander observed.
“I don’t intend to wait for them to come to us,” Nathan assured him. “I intend to stop them in open space, long before they get anywhere near Sol.”
“KKVs, sir?”
“If necessary. Commander Dumar assures me they will be delivered well before the platform’s arrival. However, there are still a few other tactics worth trying before we start throwing KKVs at them.”
CHAPTER FIVE
“Sorry I missed breakfast,” Cameron said as she met Nathan at the top of the ramp at the main intersection of the Aurora’s command deck. “We were a little late departing Tanna, and we only arrived a few hours ago. I had to go over a few things with my XO before I left.”
“No problem, Captain,” Nathan answered.
“Still feels odd,” Cameron said, shaking her head. “Captain Taylor. Good, but odd.”
“I know how you feel. How does everyone else feel about their promotions?”
“Commander Kovacic likes it just fine,” she answered. “He was passed over for full commander last time around, even though he probably deserved the promotion.”
“Why the late departure?”
“I was talking with the newly elected leader of Tanna,” Cameron explained. “President Arachev. Very nice man. Not as dynamic as Garrett. Soft-spoken. Thinks about every word before he speaks it.”
“Your kind of guy,” Nathan mused as they approached the entrance to the command briefing room.
“He made an interesting suggestion,” Cameron continued, ignoring Nathan’s remark. “He believes that more aid would be possible if more people were to emigrate from Earth to Tanna.”
“Really?” Nathan said as they stepped through the hatch into the briefing room.
“Attention on deck!” the guard at the hatch announced.
“As you were,” Nathan said out of habit before anyone in the room could stand.
“Tanna has the resources. They even have the infrastructure. But theirs is an infrastructure that was balanced by the Jung to meet only their needs, and the needs of the Tannans required to operate and maintain that infrastructure. What they are currently able to provide the Earth is that which would have supplied the needs of the Jung forces in their system, which wasn’t that much. They have been working double shifts, trying to produce more of what the Earth needs to get back on its feet, but there is only so much they can do. If more people from Earth migrated to Tanna, they could run their industries around the clock… Produce twice the volume they are currently producing.”
“I thought they had quarantined our people,” Nathan said, “kept them separate.”
“They have, but they offered to lift those quarantines, provided our Corinairan doctors are able to help them build up their medical facilities in order to deal with any new diseases the incoming Terran populatio
ns might introduce.”
“So their motives are not altogether altruistic,” Nathan mumbled as he moved toward the table.
“You can’t really blame them. They are also trying to rebuild their world.”
“I’ll run it past President Scott,” Nathan agreed. “I’m sure there will be plenty of volunteers.” Nathan took his seat at the head of the conference table. “Good morning, everyone,” he greeted as he slid his chair forward. “How are the repairs going, Lieutenant Commander?” he asked Vladimir, who was sitting to his left.
“Slowly,” he admitted. “We are still very low on resources, so we must choose carefully what to fabricate.”
“There’s still a lot of debris out there, right?” Nathan asked.
“Yes, but it takes time to recover that debris, and to sort through it, tear it apart, and decide what is usable. We don’t really have room on board for this, so we must bring the debris on board as space becomes available.”
“You could store some of it on board the Celestia,” Cameron offered, “at least temporarily.”
“Don’t you need the space for your aid runs from Tanna?” Nathan asked.
“Yes, but until Tanna can start producing more goods, we have the room. Our holds weren’t even half full this last trip, let alone our hangar bays.”
“We’ll hold that idea in reserve for now,” Nathan said. “You may need the room to haul people from Earth to Tanna.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nathan turned back to Vladimir. “Do what you can, Lieutenant Commander, but concentrate on our weapons for now.”
“Of course,” Vladimir answered.
“How soon do you plan to attack the battle platform again?” Cameron wondered.
“As soon as possible,” Nathan answered. “We can’t very well wait for it to come out of FTL in our own backyard again,” Nathan reminded her.
“If we don’t have any KKVs, and we’re down to six Falcons, how do you plan to kill that thing?” Jessica wondered.
“We’re going to try something else,” Nathan answered. “Lieutenant?” Nathan said, handing the conversation to the young scientist.
Lieutenant Yosef cleared her throat before speaking. “Our plasma weapons do drain their shields a measurable amount,” she began, “and the lower their shield strength becomes, the greater the effect each shot has on them. If we can get a lot of plasma shots onto the target at the same time, we should be able to collapse one of their shields from the outside.”
“You’re talking about a simultaneous time-on-target attack,” Jessica stated.
“Exactly,” Nathan said. “We take the target head on, one of us high and the other low, say, a kilometer apart so that we don’t collide or screw with one another’s jump fields. If we plot our firing points so that all our plasma charges will arrive at the same point in space at the same time, then all we have to do is start our attack run at the correct moment so that the battle platform will arrive at the targeting point at the same time as our plasma charges.”
“We’ve never jumped our ships so close together,” Cameron warned.
“Why not come in at angles then, instead of straight on?” Ensign Delaveaga wondered.
“That will require very precise executions,” Lieutenant Telles pointed out. “The jumps, the firing sequences… All of it must be done with extreme accuracy. Even then, the shots will more likely impact the target over a period of several tenths of a second.”
“And tenths of a second will make that big of a difference?” Luis wondered.
“For a target traveling at twenty times the speed of light?” Lieutenant Telles said. “It could mean the difference between a direct hit, and missing by several kilometers, at the very least.”
“The range over which all those jumps can be executed would be limited by the effective range of the first salvo,” Lieutenant Eckert said as he tapped instructions into his data pad. “At best, maybe… six or seven salvos.”
“So, at least forty-eight plasma torpedoes and thirty-six shots from the plasma cannons,” Nathan said. He looked over at Lieutenant Yosef.
“That might be enough,” the lieutenant said. “We’ve never gotten that many charges onto their shields at once, so it’s impossible to say with any certainty that it will work.”
“Any good commander will recognize this strategy,” Lieutenant Telles said, “probably before it has even concluded. You would need to complete your attack run and be clear of their course before they are able to detect your presence.”
“That means we have to start our attack run from even further away,” Cameron said.
“That will decrease the effectiveness of our weapons even further,” Ensign Delaveaga realized.
“Given that, can you calculate how many shots we will need to put on the target in order to bring their shields down?” Nathan asked Lieutenant Yosef.
“I can give you a good guess based on the battle data collected thus far,” she answered, “but it will only be a guess. We have no idea how many reactors they normally dedicate to shield generation, or if they are able to dump additional power into their shields if they are about to collapse.” She looked intently at her captain. “This might not work at all, sir.”
“We won’t know unless we try,” Nathan said.
“Captain, perhaps you should wait until the Karuzara completes the KKVs,” Lieutenant Telles suggested. “The risk would be less.”
“That won’t be for at least a few more weeks,” Nathan explained, “assuming nothing happens to the Karuzara in transit. Remember, we almost jumped into a singularity. Besides, there are undoubtedly more platforms out there, and their positions may preclude the use of KKVs. Therefore, we need to know if a simultaneous time-on-target attack is viable.”
“Understandable,” the lieutenant agreed.
“How long until we’re ready for action?” Nathan asked, turning back to Vladimir.
“Both ships could use a few months in a spaceport,” he insisted. “However, all necessary systems, including all plasma weapons, should be ready in three or four days.”
“Very well,” Nathan said placing his hands on the table. “Lieutenants Eckert and Delaveaga, you will prepare the attack plan. I expect it ready for review by tomorrow’s morning briefing.”
“Yes, sir,” Lieutenant Eckert answered.
Luis looked confused.
“Something wrong, Lieutenant?” Nathan asked.
“No, sir, except that you called me a lieutenant. I’m an ensign.”
“Oops,” Nathan answered. A small smile crept onto his face. He turned to Cameron, who was sitting to his right, across from Luis. “Captain?”
Cameron placed her closed hand out on the table, opened it, and withdrew it back to her side, leaving a pair of lieutenant’s bars on the table. “Congratulations, Lieutenant Delaveaga.”
It took a moment, but a huge smile began to form on Luis’s face.
“Take them,” Nathan urged. “You earned them.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t thank me, Lieutenant,” Nathan told him. “She’s the one that promoted you.”
Luis picked up the bars, looking at Captain Taylor. “Thank you, sir.”
A small round of applause began as the others in the room offered their congratulations to the new lieutenant.
“That will be all,” Nathan said as he rose. He stepped over to his friend and shook his hand. “Congratulations, Luis,” he said with sincerity.
“Thanks.”
“Take a few minutes to soak in the moment,” Nathan added, patting Luis on the back. “Then get back to work.”
“Yes, sir.”
Nathan and Cameron exited the compartment, leaving the others behind to enjoy the moment.
“There’s going to be a lot of congratulations being handed out today,” Cameron said as she started back down the corridor.
“Well, it’s about time we promoted a few people around here,” Nathan said.
“Have you
given any more thought to what we’re going to call ourselves?” Cameron wondered.
“Well, since technically neither the EDF nor the United Earth Republic exist, all of the Earth’s remaining space forces fall under the control of the Alliance.”
“Then we’re the Alliance now?”
“I guess so,” Nathan said.
“We’re not going to have to change uniforms, are we?” she asked as they turned the corner. “I don’t look good in black.”
Nathan glanced at her out of the corner of his eye as they walked, a small chuckle breaking out of him.
* * *
Prince Casimir strolled confidently down the corridor, flanked by his personal aides, who in turn were both preceded and followed by a dozen of his personal security forces. Both leading and following his entourage were the local Corinari security detail, which also numbered at least a dozen. To Casimir, it seemed a bit much, and he wished he had stood his ground with his own security chief and left half his forces on their ship. His chief’s arguments, however, had been sound ones. There were still many members of Corinairan society who favored the old empire of Caius, and secretly wished for its return, under any leader. In addition, the nobles of his world had their own spies, even on Corinair… possibly even assassins.
The procession of armed men and well-dressed aides finally came to a stop in the anteroom of the Corinairan Prime Minister’s office. An elderly gentleman with the same, thick brogue shared by all Corinairans approached him in careful fashion, his hands clearly at his sides for all to see.
“Prince Casimir,” the elderly gentleman greeted, his arms wide in a gesture of greeting. “It is indeed an honor to have you on our world once again.”
“It is my pleasure to be here,” Casimir began. “Hopefully, I will not be placed under arrest this time,” he added with a wry smile.
“Of course,” the gentleman answered, smiling in return. “I am Edard Galbrith, the prime minister’s chief of staff. I apologize for the delay, but the prime minister is in transit at the moment and will arrive shortly. I assure you, had we known of your visit…”
