Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines (9 page)

“Corsair
escorted General Busche's battalion in since the previous landing had been aborted and the troops withdrawn by Admiral Cartwright. But four of our sister ships were with
Corsair
, didn't they go on to Kathy's World recently?” The captain finally asked, still trying to get his thoughts in order. He wished he had more caffeine. They were down to dregs, and he had turned his nose up to the stuff. He'd wanted to dump the lot but Lefou begged him to keep it for the crew. His lip curled slightly. Let them drink the stuff; it was like stale motor oil.

He'd gotten some hooch out of Busche once, but the rotgut had turned his stomach something awful. He wondered briefly if it was worth getting coffee. He made a note to get the Bosun or the XO on it. They should have been on it already he thought sourly.

The ensign frowned thoughtfully and then pulled up his tablet. He checked the log and then nodded. “Aye, sir. Two hunting pairs,
Nelson
class destroyers escorting freighters,
Idiot's Array
and
Wizard of Winter
, sir.”

“What the hell kind of names are that?” the captain demanded. No wonder he hadn't been able to remember them. Why would anyone … he shook his head. He saw the ensign's helpless shrug. “I wasn't asking you,” he snapped, rubbing his brow again. “Go on.”

The ensign nodded nervously. He could tell when the skipper was in a foul mood, and today was one of those days. He just wanted to survive his shift. “Yes, sir, they passed through several months ago, while we were in transit here I believe.”

“And since our orders are to hold here …,” the captain frowned. Their orders stated they had to hold in Protodon to support General Busche and to wait for Admiral Rico and Admiral Cartwright. They were
supposed
to act as a reserve. Now that was out the window he thought acidly.

“What forces do we have around us? In case we need backup,” he asked.

“Sir, um, I'm not cleared to know that,” the ensign stated.

“Of course not,” the captain frowned, then accessed the computer. His big hands made typing difficult. He didn't bother using his implants; he hated them. And with the headache that was coming on, he didn't want it to get any worse. He frowned thoughtfully.

Nuevo Madrid had a small naval station there, but it wasn't much. A single obsolete destroyer and a half squadron of frigates. It was exile for that fat sow of a rear admiral he thought. He tapped at the other star system nearby until he got a hit. According to his last dispatch update, two
Derfflinger
class battle cruisers with supports were headed to … he scowled. “Who the hell names a star system
that
?” he demanded. The ensign looked up in confusion. “Sierra Nuevo Hombre Hallelujah. What a mouthful.”

“It means Shit Nothing Happens Here, sir. My grandparents emigrated to the empire from there,” Lieutenant Shanty replied. She had heard it was a dull agro world and had no interest in tracing her roots. None at all.

“No wonder they left with a name like that,” the captain stated shaking his head. The lieutenant nodded. The captain ignored the nod of agreement and returned his attention to the status board. According to the dispatch, the ships were headed out to show the flag. They were supposed to reinforce Admiral Cartwright's forces but were taking a leisurely pace to do it, stopping at every star system to intimidate the emperor's new more restless subjects into their proper place. They'd either come to heel or be bombed into oblivion. He grinned at that thought. He'd love to see a BC blast a planet. It would be quite the show.

Now that was a command he thought, frowning. How could he work to get one of those? He shook his head. He'd had all he could do to pull the strings to get this command let alone something bigger! He looked the captains’ names up; perhaps they would give him some sort of clue.

Captain Shantell Mueller and Captain … wait, they gave that command to a woman??!? he scowled even darker, eyes flashing as his temple pounded. He looked up when his vision began to blur. How dare they! How dare they pass over someone like him to give a woman a command of a battle cruiser! It was outrageous!

He got to his feet and paced, rubbing his jaw. Finally he decided he needed a break. “Ensign, you have the bridge,” he stated.

The ensign looked up in alarm, then his eyes cut to the lieutenant at Ops. “Sir?”

“Whatever, fine,” the captain said over his shoulder on his way out. “I'll be indisposed,” he said, making up his mind that the best way to work off his passion was in a very direct way. One that would be ultimately relaxing. “I don't want to be disturbed,” he growled.

“Aye aye, sir,” the lieutenant stated, making a note before she got up to take the hot seat.

The captain saw the move and then stabbed a finger at her. “You stay.” He turned to point to Ensign Dahl. “I said you, Ensign.”

“Yes, sir,” the ensign stated, rising slowly. He looked helplessly to the scowling lieutenant and then shrugged mentally as he took the hot seat.

---<>---<>---

Lieutenant Kyly Shanty snarled to herself as she kept her station. Her practiced eyes checked the status board as she seethed internally. The nerve! To put a green ensign in charge of the bridge when
she
was senior officer? How
dare
he? Still, he was the captain, even if she despised the pompous ass. She had to keep such thoughts private though; she couldn't afford to let anyone see that.

Did he want Jz to prove himself? To get some clock time on his record for manning the bridge? A test? She frowned thoughtfully. She snuck a look at the ensign. He looked like he was settling into the chair. He looked … she watched under her arm as he petted the chair's padded arms. He looked like he was settling in. It was a fresh new experience; one she could relate to. She could give him a warm welcome … no, she'd leave him alone.

“Lieutenant, did you um, finish your tactical exercise?” the ensign asked.

“Yes, Ensign.” the TACO said, clearly nettled.

“Then you can do another, right?” Dahl said maliciously.

“Yes …,” that tore it. She opened up a script file, typed rapidly then dumped her bot into the mainframe. It wouldn't be in there long; it would be filtered out by the security system she had created for the computer. Well, her and Jordy, her old ex-boyfriend. But it would be there long enough to write an unscheduled drill into the schedule. She'd done it before; the XO assumed it was something the brass had created to keep the crew on their toes.

She grinned to herself when the klaxons went off. She immediately schooled her expression and went to work checking the status board. “What??” the ensign gibbered behind her. She turned enough to see his profile. His dark mahogany skin didn't pale, but his expression was priceless. “Shut that damn thing off!”

“We can't!” the helmsman said, cringing in his seat. “Not until everyone reports to their duty station and we finish whatever the hell it is!”

“Two ships coming up on our stern. CIC makes them out as destroyers, Captain,” Kyly said, all business. “They will be in weapons range in thirty seconds. Orders? Suggest we maneuver to get our ass out of the fire,” she suggested helpfully just as the lights dimmed and went red for the battle station's condition.

Whatever the skipper was doing, he was most certainly not going to be there for long the lieutenant thought cheerfully. And the ensign wouldn't be enjoying his little power trip for long she thought as he gibbered, clearly flat footed. “Sir, unscheduled drill online, tactical assignment. We've got to get through it,” she said patiently.

“What the hell is going on?” the captain bellowed, voice deep in rage. “Dahl, what the
hell
did you do now??!””

Chapter 5

Rear Admiral Subert's arrival in Pyrax was celebrated across the star system. The media had live coverage going the moment his ship entered the star system. Interview requests came clamoring in from all corners of the star system, swamping the public affairs department. The admiral made it clear he wanted a private arrival before the change of command ceremony.

Horatio met the newly arriving flag officer at the lock with Monty. Both men were dressed in their formal uniforms and waited patiently for the shuttle to dock. Apparently the admiral had chosen a space cutter to make the hop instead of an ascraft, so the boat bay had been nixed at the last minute and the lock had been chosen.

Horatio blessed the maintenance department's hard work. They had kept on top of the cleaning and workings of the annex. Nothing squeaked and it all looked ship shape. He hoped the Admiral took that into consideration when he did his initial cursory inspection. He turned to the intelligence officer, studying him under hooded eyes.

Commander Montgomery looked a bit stuffy in his uniform; he obviously hadn't gotten comfortable wearing it. He always found some excuse to duck a function Horatio thought.

“I think I'm glad you banned the bands and cameras for this part,” Monty said out of the side of his mouth. He eyed the side party with amusement. “I think the side party is a bit much though. Shouldn't that be only for ships?”

“I'm not sure how stuffy this admiral is so I'm playing it safe. There is no sense getting off to the wrong foot over some hurt feelings,” Horatio stated flatly.

“Oh.”

He nodded in approval to the side party. The ensign in charge was nervous but realized the captain wasn't going to let him shirk his responsibility one iota. He took to the role then, having no other choice.

While the ensign nervously kept checking and rechecking the flag and his group for defects real or invisible, the captain spoke quietly with Monty. They still had a few minutes while waiting for ship to dock with the station. They watched the monitor nervously. “Anything we need to know about this admiral?” Monty asked, ready to dispense with the small talk. He felt for Horatio; he really did. Horatio seemed torn. On the one hand relieved that someone was stepping in, but on the other resenting it since he was being brushed aside like yesterday's news. The old man may have complained a bit about handling the job, but like Monty he'd grown into it just fine. Both had certainly …
matured
he thought as the captain organized his thoughts.

Horatio turned to look at Monty. “You mean the intel puke
doesn't
know?”

Monty shook his head. “Only what is in his file. And only the parts I am cleared for. I admit, I only had a chance to glance at it once. I was hoping you'd read between the lines for me.”

“He's an administrator. He came up through command track briefly, doing a stint as an XO a few times, some fortress stints and a brief captain of a tin can before he had command of a tender as a lieutenant commander. But he has spent a lot of time in staff positions after that, little warship time. He did run a couple of minor outposts and distinguished himself in orbital fortress as a captain before being transferred to R&D and more staff positions.” Monty made a face. “Just before and during the opening years of the war he ran a couple of minor star systems, but he never ran a yard. Not even a maintenance yard, so this should be interesting.” He fought the urge to sigh. Subert was a paper pusher; there were bound to be some clashes.

“So you think he'll lean on your expertise?” Monty asked, eying the older man.

“Something like that,” Horatio replied dryly. He had his internal doubts though. From his brief correspondence from the Admiral during his brief layover in Antigua, the Admiral had made it clear he had his own way of doing things and wasn't shy about stepping on toes. Things were about to get interesting.

“Shuttle 89a arriving. Please stay clear of the lock,” the AI stated from the overhead. The lock light went to red then yellow. They could see a figure in the lock through the tiny window. Then it went to green. Both men came to attention just behind the side party.

When the lock cycled, Admiral Subert was the first to step out of the lock as tradition dictated. Captain Logan nodded as the Admiral went through the salute to the colors and then it was his turn. He had no problem saluting the newly arrived Admiral though he noted Monty could have used a bit more practice.

Apparently that was also something the Admiral was aware of by the slight narrowing of his eyes. “I relieve you, Captain.”

“I stand relieved, sir. If you'll walk this way, sir, we have a brief ceremony to turn over command formally,” Horatio said, indicating the path with a wave of his hand.

The admiral's chief of staff nodded behind him. It was the sandy haired, 25-year-old Commander Saul Garretaj who had broadly hinted that a ceremony was proper. According to what Horatio had heard, the lieutenant commander had been recently promoted past first lieutenant to handle the job as the admiral's chief of staff. He was a sleeper much like the admiral and some of the other people the admiral had brought along. There wasn't a lot in the stocky man's personal jacket; he'd spent a lot of time bouncing around various staff positions.

Admiral Subert nodded briefly and smiled ever so slightly. Horatio felt a slight sense of relief over that small facial gesture.