Black Fleet Trilogy 1: Warship (17 page)

"You can't really believe that?" he asked, staring intensely at Ormond.

"All I know is I'm tired, Chief, and I could use something to eat," Ormond said, wanting to get away.

"You know Wolfe had Chief Kazenski locked up, right?" Cullen asked.

"Yeah ... for trying to start—"

"He wasn't starting anything," Cullen snapped. "He was doing his job. If you have some rogue CO putting the entire ship at danger, not to mention our lives, it's his responsibility to take action. Is it not?"

"I ... suppose," Ormond said, looking around and hoping nobody would hear the conversation.

"Damn right," Cullen whispered so savagely that spittle flew from his mouth and landed on Ormond's cheek. "Listen ... there are some of us who aren't real keen on dying so our token Earther CO can prove he deserves his seat. We have a plan where nobody gets hurt, nobody gets in trouble. Can we count on you?"

"What would I have to do?" Ormond asked.

"I asked a yes or no question," Cullen said.

"Uh ... yeah, Chief," Ormond said, feeling utterly helpless. "You know you can always count on me."

"That's what I told everyone else," Cullen said with a sudden smile. "Since you work in the MUX control room we have a special job for you. But don't worry ... with the damage we've taken hopefully even someone as dense as Jackson Wolfe will know it's time to fly us back to Haven and call in the big ships to deal with this thing."

Cullen walked out of the alcove without another word, leaving Ormond standing there with the burden of a terrible choice on his shoulders.

Chapter 14

"Have a seat, Lieutenant Barrett," Jackson said as his still-shaken tactical officer stepped into his office. He waited until the young officer was seated and settled before continuing.

"I'm not one for tiptoeing around a subject, so what the hell happened out there, Lieutenant?"

"Captain Wolfe," Barrett said, looking Jackson straight in the eye, "I can only apologize for my performance, but I offer no excuses. I failed and I will accept the consequences of that."

Jackson had started out furious at Barrett, but he grudgingly had to admit he was impressed that the young man didn't come in with a list of excuses as to why he’d frozen up. It was a trait he appreciated.

"Michael, I'm looking at your drill scores and your training records," Jackson said, idly flipping through the file on his tile. "You've consistently been my top performer and have had an exemplary record while serving aboard the
Blue Jacket
. The lack of disciplinary action alone makes you a standout." Sadly, that hadn't been a joke.

"I'm going to be straight with you ... I don't have anyone else to replace you with. We're chasing this thing across the system in the hopes we can close on it before it can wipe out Podere like it has Xi'an and Oplotom. I can't be tied up at the tactical station and Commander Wright doesn't know the system well enough yet to run it in combat."

"I can do my job, sir," Barrett said with conviction. "I won't let you down again."

"We're all scared, Lieutenant," Jackson said. "Here is where I would usually give you a stirring speech about rising to the occasion and not letting your fear own you, but I think you'd only feel worse after that. All I'm going to say is this: Get your ass back to your station, Lieutenant, and study the previous engagement. Learn everything you can about it and you damn well better not lock up on me again. Am I clear?"

"Crystal clear, Captain," Barrett said sharply.

Jackson stared at him for a moment longer.

"Dismissed," he said finally. "Send Commander Wright and Ensign Davis in on your way out."

He watched Lieutenant Barrett hustle out and felt like he was making the right choice. At least he hoped he was.

"Ensign Jillian Davis, reporting as ordered," his operations officer said, coming to attention in front of his desk.

"Ensign Davis," he said, watching as Celesta walked into the room and leaned against the rear bulkhead as the hatch slid closed. "Hell of a day, wasn't it?" he asked, not offering to let her stand at ease or sit down.

"It was indeed, sir," she said, still staring at the spot directly over his head.

"Some of us performed better than others," Jackson said, leaning back. "You just saw Lieutenant Barrett leave. Did he look happy?"

"No, Captain, he did not."

"That's because when tested in the crucible of combat, he cracked," Jackson said, his voice even. "Not everyone is fit to serve on a warship, wouldn't you say?"

"I ... would have to agree, sir," Davis said with uncertainty in her voice.

"Take that ensign bar off your uniform, Davis," Jackson said with a dramatic sigh. To her credit, she reached up and tugged off her rank insignia without so much as a twitch of her eye, though Jackson could see the red flush creeping up her neck.

"Commander Wright, did you get what I asked for?" Jackson asked.

"I did," she said simply, putting a silver bar in his outstretched hand. He walked around the desk, standing to Davis' side as she stood at attention, still staring forward.

"For exceptional performance of duties and gallantry in the face of the enemy, you are hereby promoted to Lieutenant, Junior Grade," Jackson said, pinning the bar on her right collar. The ship's crest was still on the left. "XO, note the time and date in the ship's log."

"Yes, sir."

"At ease," Jackson said, smiling slightly as Davis reached up to touch her new bar. "Congratulations, Lieutenant Davis."

She looked like she was about to try and put her arms around Jackson and hug him before her military bearing took over again and she straightened up. The move didn't go unnoticed by Commander Wright as her right eyebrow went up a tick.

"Thank you, Captain," Davis said, shaking his hand instead. "I won't let you down."

"I'm sure you won't," he said, smiling indulgently. "Now get your ass back to your station and review the sensor logs. Find me something useful. Dismissed."

Lieutenant Davis spun smartly on her heel and exited the office with a certain bounce in her step.

"Interesting time to be doing field promotions," Celesta remarked. "Complete with a little hazing to boot."

"To be honest, Commander, we'll probably all be dead within a day so I figure it couldn't hurt for at least one person on this ship to be happy," he said, sinking back into his chair.

"Not much optimism? Even after the mag-cannons did so much damage?" she asked.

"Realism trumps optimism every time," he sighed. "The math isn't on our side. Even if we pumped the rest of the shells in the magazines into that monster we simply aren't carrying enough destructive force aboard to kill it. It's just too big. There's also the fact that it's been learning after every engagement, adapting even. I don't think we'll have the same luck if we meet again."

"Which begs the question: Why are we still chasing it?"

"As long as we can provide some cover for Podere I'm willing to stay," Jackson said. "If it makes a move to leave the system we'll reevaluate the situation."

She made no move to leave despite having no further protests to air out.

"Was there something else, Commander?"

"What were you doing before the mag-cannons came online, sir?"

Jackson tried to stare her down, but when she wouldn't budge he shrugged his surrender. "I may have not been completely honest when I said there weren't any nukes aboard," he said. "There are, in fact, four. Four very big ones."

"You mean the main reactors," she said, narrowing her eyes.

"Very good, Commander," he said with a nod. "There is a procedure that isn't in any Fleet manual or technical data for the
Raptor
-class ships. It's something that's passed down orally to each captain when he, or she, assumes command. It was a backdoor left by the designers to be used in only the most dire of emergencies.

"There is a way to disable all the safeties on the reactors and send them critical. It happens quite fast if you also shut down the pumps for the cooling jackets."

"I see," she said, emotionless. "And you'd have been willing to blow the
Blue Jacket
up to stop that ship?"

"Yes," he said simply.

"Good," she said, pushing herself off the bulkhead. "I will admit to worrying that you may have been doing this for the wrong reasons before."

"But not now?" Jackson asked.

"Not now," she confirmed. "I'll see you on the bridge, Captain."

After she'd left and the hatch sealed he stared up at the ceiling for a moment, slightly confused by the exchange. The mag-cannons had been an utter stroke of luck, but he couldn't deny how good it had felt seeing those shells ripping the port side of that ship apart. They were still seven hours away from Podere, but the enemy ship was only four hours away. He wasn't sure how it had actually been killing planets, but he hoped it wasn't something that could be accomplished in a few hours.

With the short respite in the battle he'd ordered the crews to get rested and fed and took care of some light administrative work, like promotions, to keep himself busy and try to raise the spirits of the crew a bit. Celesta had taken the liberty of piping the sensor feed of the mag-cannons shredding into the enemy ship to all the departments. The more he'd thought about it the more he liked the idea. At least give the technicians in the lower decks some hope that they'd come through this, even if their captain had none for himself.

****

"Captain, I might have something for you," Lieutenant Davis said as soon as he stepped back onto the bridge.

"Good news?" Jackson asked.

"It's ... news," she said evasively. He walked over behind her station to see what she was talking about, ignoring the clear regulation violations in the form of personal photos lining one side of the console.

"Show me what you've got."

"I began looking over all the high-res optical data we collected on the enemy ship between engagements," she said. "Here is a still shot after the Avengers opened its nose up during that first pass."

"Right," Jackson said impatiently. "So?"

"Here's another shot of that same area," she said, pulling up another image. "This was as it made its approach during the last engagement."

"What the hell?" Jackson muttered, squinting at the image.

"That's not been repaired, Captain," she said. "It was ... healed."

"The implications of this are somewhat profound. And disturbing," Jackson remarked.

"I would say so," Davis said. "This ship, or at least its hull, is an organic compound that shows signs of being alive."

"This mission is getting more bizarre by the minute," Jackson complained under his breath. "Log this data and put it in on the secure server. This changes nothing, so keep it quiet for now ... I don't need a damn philosophical debate in the middle of a battle, and even if that ship is 'alive' it has still killed millions of humans."

"Yes, sir."

"Make sure you tag the data where you can find it quickly," he said, still keeping his voice down. "I'm going to have you launch another com drone right before our next round with this thing. The data is going to a specific address that I'll give you in a moment, not to CENTCOM."

"Sir?"

"It's ... complicated," he said. "Just believe me when I say that if we're going to get any help with this we need to stay off the main channels for now."

"Yes, sir."

"One more thing," Jackson said, leaning back away from her console. "Finish your analysis of the ship, but then I need you to put that knowledge to practical use. Put together a targeting package and send it over to Tactical. Even with the unique features we're seeing in this hull material I would assume that port side is still blasted open. We want to put more shells into that if it'll let us."

They were still two hours away from Podere when the news went from bad to worse.

"We're getting a burst of com traffic from the planet," Lieutenant Keller reported. "Some trying to contact the com drone platform, two specifically to us, and a jumble of calls for help over the general band."

"Is the alien ship firing on the surface?" Jackson asked.

"No, sir," the officer said, the dread evident in his voice. "If I'm understanding this correctly it's landing troops at every major settlement in the eastern hemisphere."

"Helm! Full emergency acceleration," Jackson called out. "Tactical, start getting your targeting scripts loaded and ensure the mag-cannons are ready to fire."

After a pair of confirmations the ship began to rumble violently as she strained past her designers' limits.

"OPS, give the helm real-time updates on the target as we get closer," Jackson said, swaying slightly on the harshly vibrating deck. "We may only get one pass at this, and it will be a small targeting window. We can't afford to waste the time it will take to decelerate to be able to enter orbit over Podere, so you'll have to shoot during a high-speed flyby." He walked back over to his seat and jabbed the intercom button.

"Engineering, Lieutenant Commander Singh ... I need more speed, Daya," he said.

"If I give you any more the engines are literally going to tear off of the pylons," Singh said, his voice almost drowned out by the sounds of the machinery in Engineering. "She's giving everything she's got, Jack. Singh out."

Jackson drummed his fingers against his chin, staring off out the main display. It had nothing to do with the abruptness of his chief engineer over the intercom and everything to do with the fact he knew Podere was being ravaged that very second and there was almost nothing he could do about it.