The Black Sheep (A Learning Experience Book 3) (33 page)

Fisher
rocked, violently.  “Enemy ships are targeting us,” Brown added.  “They’re hitting us with phasers and particle cannons.”

Hoshiko stopped herself - barely - from barking orders.  She wasn't on the bridge; she wasn't in command of the ship, even now.  It wasn't her place to issue orders to her crew.  But she wanted to ...

“Pass the word,” she ordered, as
Fisher
rocked again.  “Continue firing.”

***

“Evasive action,” Griffin snapped.  An enemy gunner, sharper than most, had drawn a bead on the cruiser and was proving incredibly difficult to escape.  “Launch decoy drones!”

“Drones away,” Biscoe reported.  The shaking stopped, long enough for the cruiser to evade another spread of phaser fire.  “Enemy targeting locked onto the drones.”

“Keep us on an evasive course,” Griffin ordered.  It wouldn't take the enemy long to realise they’d been tricked, not when their weapons were just burning
though
the images on their display.  “Continue firing!”

“Two enemy battlecruisers altering course to block our escape,” Biscoe said.  “Their formation is coming apart.”

“Target them both with antimatter missiles,” Griffin said.  Thankfully, they were at dangerously short range.  He could fire the missiles on sprint mode, knowing the enemy would have bare seconds to retarget their point defence before it was too late.  “Fire!”

“Missiles away,” Biscoe reported.  “Enemy ships are opening fire ...”

“Taking evasive action,” the helmsman snapped.  “They’re lousy shots.”

“As you were,” Griffin said.  One of the battlecruisers disintegrated into a fireball; the other fell out of formation, bleeding plasma into space.  “Keep firing ...”

“Commander,
Jellicoe
is gone,” Biscoe said.  “She just collided with another enemy battleship.”

Griffin winced in pain.  Captain Sonja Farrakhan -
Jellicoe’s
commanding officer - had been an old flame, back since they’d both served together on
Titan
.  The affair had run its course, as shipboard affairs tended to do, when they’d been promoted and assigned to separate vessels, but they’d parted as friends.  Hell, she’d been one of the few he could talk to about his doubts, even if they'd been too busy to sit down and have a proper chat.  And now she was gone, lost along with her entire ship.

The Captain’s war
, he thought, bitterly.  Another enemy battleship loomed up in front of them, blasting away madly as it tried to score a direct hit. 
This war is going to cost us dearly
.

“Continue firing,” he ordered.  There would be time to mourn the dead later, assuming they survived.  “And keep us in line with the rest of the squadron.”

“Gravity mines are detonating,” Biscoe reported.  “The remainder of the fleet is escaping into FTL.”

***

“The fleet is making its escape, Captain,” Brown reported.  “I highly doubt the enemy can track them.”

Hoshiko nodded as the starship shook again, worse this time.  She glanced at the status display - a rear shield was weakening, after being hit several times in quick succession - and then put her fears out of her mind.  The Grand Fleet was making its escape and, thanks to the gravity bombs, the Druavroks didn't have a hope of being able to run down
any
of the ships while the waves of distortion were spreading through space.  Their ambush had been a nasty surprise, and it would be a blow to morale, but it hadn't proved fatal.

“Take us out of their formation as soon as the last ship is gone, then jump us into FTL,” she ordered, praying silently that none of her ships had lost their drives.  They
were
tough, but
anything
could be disabled or destroyed if it was hammered hard enough.  “There’s nothing to gain by staying here.”

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.  “The last ship has jumped out -
now
.”

Hoshiko sucked in her breath as the squadron raced through the remainder of the enemy formation, firing off its final missiles as it fled, then jumped into FTL.  The Druavroks
might
give chase, but after she’d hammered the enemy fleet so badly it was rather more likely they’d pause to lick their wounds and celebrate their victory.  And it
was
a victory, no matter how much she would prefer to deny it.  They’d defeated the Grand Fleet, taken out two irreplaceable ships and forced her to run.

“Stand down from red alert,” she ordered, once she was reasonably sure the enemy weren't trying to give chase anyway.  “I want a tactical analysis as soon as possible.”

“Aye, Captain,” Brown said.  “It will take some time to compile the data - longer, if you want to include data from the rest of the fleet.”

“Just concentrate on our data,” Hoshiko ordered.  “I ...”

She frowned as a message popped up in front of her from Commander Wilde, asking for a meeting in her cabin.  Rising, she sent back a quick acknowledgement and strode out of the hatch, feeling sweat trickling down her back.  She needed a shower, sleep and a fuck, perhaps not in that order, but only the shower would be forthcoming.  There was no time to sleep until she knew just how badly the squadron had been pounded. 
And
she was reluctant to draw a sexbot out of general supplies just for her own pleasure.

“Captain,” Commander Wilde said.  He looked ... oddly reluctant to enter her cabin.  “I need to talk to you.”

“Very well,” Hoshiko said, feeling her eyes narrow in suspicion.  It was unlike Wilde to demand a meeting, particularly just after a battle when they both had a great deal of work to do.  “What is it?”

“I’m formally requesting permission to call a Captain’s Board,” Wilde said.  “This matter has gone
far
beyond the intent of our orders.”

Hoshiko stared at him, feeling a tidal wave of numb shock mixed with betrayal.  He was her XO!  How could he betray her?  But if he felt that calling a Captain’s Board to judge her conduct was the only choice, it was his right - his duty - to call one.

“Very well,” she said, fighting to keep her voice level.  She’d known Wilde had doubts, but she hadn’t expected him to move to actively opposing her.  “We’ll hold the board as soon as we return to Amstar.”

“We can hold it now,” Wilde said.  “According to regulations ...”

“I’m familiar with the regulations,” Hoshiko said, coldly.  She glanced at her wristcom, then back at him.  “We’ll hold the board in seven hours.  That will give us time to shower, sleep and make repairs.”

“Agreed,” Wilde said.  He looked as if he wanted to say something else, perhaps a pointless apology, but thought better of it.  “I’ll see you in the conference room.”

Chapter Thirty-Two

Sit-down protesters in Oklahoma were violently dispersed by federal troops as they blocked the interstate leading towards Texas.  The Governor of Oklahoma has called out the National Guard and publicly declared that he will not tolerate further federal bullying of his state’s inhabitants.

-Solar News Network, Year 54

Griffin Wilde couldn't help feeling like a betrayer.

He understood - he understood perfectly - why Captain Stuart had wanted to intervene.  They were under orders to protect humans, after all, and a genocide was something that should be stopped on moral grounds alone.  But the mission had blossomed out of control, becoming a multi-racial crusade against an alien race that might pose a clear and present threat to the Solar Union itself ... and a promise to the Grand Alliance that the rest of humanity might not be willing or able to keep.  Hoshiko had stepped far beyond the limits of her orders.

Because no one ever expected us to be drawn into local politics
, he thought, as he stepped into the conference room. 
And that was a mistake all along.

He took a breath as the hatch closed behind him.  Hoshiko was sitting at the other end of the chamber, but the other commanding officers were represented by hologram.  No doubt they, like Griffin, had spent the last two hours reviewing the regulations covering their current situation - and, perhaps, fretting over how their participation would be seen by Fleet Command.  A full Captain’s Board had only been called twice in the last fifty years - and one of them had ended with the participants charged with mutiny.  It was quite possible, Griffin knew, that
he’d
wind up charged with mutiny himself.

I knew the risks when I made the call
, he reminded himself, firmly.  He sat down and opened his implants to the room’s processors, allowing them to confirm his identity. 
And if I am sentenced to death, I will accept it as the price for making the wrong call
.

“Captain Macpherson will assume control of the discussion,” Hoshiko said, flatly.  Her voice was so atonal that Griffin was
sure
she was using her implants to keep all emotion out of her tone.  “Commander Wilde and myself, of course, will abstain when the time comes for a vote, leaving us with six voters.  Captain Macpherson will have the deciding vote if the voters are evenly split.  I trust that is acceptable?”

Griffin nodded, along with the other participants.  A formal Captain’s Board was an awkward affair at the best of times - they were generally only authorised when there was no hope of contacting higher authority within a reasonable space of time - but Hoshiko had put forward the best possible solution.  He wasn't sure where Captain Macpherson stood, now two irreplaceable ships had been blown to atoms, yet he
was
the senior commanding officer in the squadron.  There was no alternative to putting him in control of the discussion.

“I yield the floor to Captain Macpherson,” Hoshiko said.

“Thank you, Captain,” Macpherson said.  He cleared his throat.  “It is my duty to remind all of you that a full recording of this discussion, along with our shipboard and private logs, will be presented before Fleet Command when we return home and, perhaps, used in evidence against us.  If any of you wish to record a dissent from the decision to hold a formal meeting, speak now or forever hold your tongue.”

Griffin didn't  - quite - roll his eyes.  Macpherson had always had a turn for the dramatic, but there were limits.  The meeting was
serious
- even if the assembled captains voted to shut it down immediately, Fleet Command would review everything anyway - and there was no time for levity.  But, at the same time, humour would defuse the tension they were all feeling, now they were committed.  Their words and deeds would be studied with a fine-toothed comb when the remainder of the squadron returned home.

“No one has spoken,” Macpherson said, after a minute had passed in awkward silence.  “We have very little in the way of precedent for these meetings, but I believe Commander Wilde should speak first.”

Griffin took a breath.  “Thank you, sir,” he said.  “I will be brief.

“Our mission in this sector was to set up a naval base at Martina, nothing more.  It was anticipated that the naval base would eventually turn into a full-fledged outpost, staffed with diplomats and traders who would establish links with the worlds and races within the sector and, ideally, seek out new allies and new civilisations.  It was not anticipated - it was
never
anticipated - that we would be drawn into a multiracial war.

“I concede that our orders authorised us to take action to protect and defend human settlements throughout the sector, regardless of their origins.  Taking the squadron to Amstar and engaging the Druavroks was justifiable, although there was a considerable element of risk.  Doing what we could to ensure that the human settlements across the sector were also protected was, depending on how one looks at it, covered by our orders.  That far, no serious objection can be raised.

“But since then, our involvement in local politics has skyrocketed.  We have forged an alliance between fifteen different races and over two hundred star systems, an alliance directed against the Druavroks.  We have invaded one of their systems, sent raiders deeper into their space to make their lives miserable and attacked their ships wherever we found them.  Worse, perhaps, we have unlocked fabbers and shared human technology freely, creating a potential new threat to humanity.

“And now, two of our cruisers are gone, after the enemy set a successful ambush.  We
cannot
replace those ships!  The Druavroks lost more ships - far more ships - and yet they still hold the advantage in firepower.

“We have gone so far beyond our orders that it is just incomprehensible.  We have made promises of alliance to alien races that the Solar Union may not choose to ratify.  We have built an alliance that commits us to war against the Druavroks, a war that has already spread out of control.  And now that we have taken heavy losses of our own, our ability to support our allies has been sharply limited.  The Grand Alliance itself may come apart after we were ambushed and defeated.

“This has gone too far.  We need to reconsider our position.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Macpherson said.  “Captain Stuart.  The floor is yours.”

***

Hoshiko took a moment to gather herself before speaking, a trick she’d learned at the Academy.  Deliberately or otherwise - and she knew Commander Wilde was an experienced officer - she would be addressing a group whose feelings were running high, after losing over two hundred friends and comrades in an ambush.  They would be more than human if, at some level, they didn't blame her for falling into the trap, although none of them had seen it coming either.  She mentally saluted Commander Wilde - holding the meeting so quickly after the battle gave him the greatest chance of winning - and then leaned forward, choosing her words with care.

“I will not deny the problems we have with supplying the squadron, let alone the entire fleet,” she said.  “And I will not deny that losing
Harrington
and
Jellicoe
cuts deep into our deployable firepower, although we
did
inflict considerable damage on their forces and bought the Grand Fleet time to withdraw and scatter.  But the fact remains that our involvement in the war against the Druavroks is both legal and moral.

“Our orders, as Commander Wilde notes, authorise us to protect humans wherever we find them.  The orders do not draw any distinction between Solarians or the descendents of Earthers, taken from the planet by the Tokomak.  Indeed, one of our many tasks when we arrived on station was to attempt to forge links with the local humans, in hopes of turning them into allies or Solarians.  Going to the rescue, when human settlements were threatened with being exterminated, turned them into allies. 

“But it is not enough to merely drive the Druavroks away from Amstar.  That world is not the
only
human settlement in the sector.  Nor were the Druavroks likely to leave Amstar in peace, if we pulled out the squadron shortly after liberating the planet.  How many problems in history became worse, far worse, because they were allowed to fester?  The only hope of winning peace and security for the human settlers in this sector is to take the war to the Druavroks and defeat them.  There is
nothing
about them that suggests they would be amenable to a negotiated settlement.”

She paused, wishing she could gauge their feelings, then pushed on.  “We also have orders to take advantage of any opportunity to set up diplomatic links with as many races and worlds in this sector as we can,” she continued.  “Liberating Amstar gave us a chance to forge an alliance with some of the most powerful races in the sector, a chance to recruit allies to take the war to the Druavroks.  Their interests coincide with ours.  They want the Druavroks defeated as much as
we
do.  Giving them human technology only strengthens the alliance between us.  It is the sign of respect, of equality, that they never received from the Tokomak.

“And it has paid off!  They have sent thousands of ships to join our fleet!  They have committed vast resources to the cause.  They have fought beside us and
died
beside us!

“This war is more than just a crusade against a genocidal race.  This war is an
opportunity
, an opportunity to build an alliance that will make the human race far more secure in a very hostile galaxy.  How long will it be, I ask you, before the Tokomak return to Sol, with hundreds of thousands of warships and blood in their eye?  This is an opportunity we cannot let pass, even if it weren't covered by our orders.

“The enemy have proved themselves more artful than we would have preferred,” she admitted.  “They made no advances in technology, but they used what they had to make a canny ambush and cost us two cruisers.  War is, after all, a democracy - the enemy gets a vote.  But we have not lost the war.  Our allies are turning out more warships, our fabbers are ringing our worlds in orbital defences and we are priming ourselves for taking the offensive further and further into enemy space.

“Losing
Harrington
and
Jellicoe
was a blow,” she concluded.  “I mourn their loss as much as any of you.  But we are all experienced personnel who understand the facts of life.  A conflict - any conflict - risks lives, but we cannot allow the fear of losing our people to stop us.  If we choose to abandon the conflict, if we choose to pull our ships back to Martina, the Grand Alliance will come apart, the Druavroks will resume the offensive and humanity’s name will be mud throughout the cosmos.  We will be the race that abandoned its allies when it got a little bloody nose!

“Commander Wilde would have you believe that this war does not involve us.  But it does!  It involved us the moment the Druavroks started targeting human settlements on a dozen different worlds.  Taking the war to the Druavroks is the only way to end the threat once and for all.”

“Thank you, Captain,” Macpherson said.  “Commander Wilde, do you wish to respond?”

“No, sir,” Wilde said.

“Then we will debate the matter,” Macpherson said.  “Please wait.”

The holographic images vanished.  Hoshiko looked at where they’d been for a long moment, then activated her implants, calling up the latest set of reports from the engineering crews and skimming them rapidly. 
Fisher
had taken a beating - there was no doubt about
that
- but she’d be ready for combat once again by the time they returned to Amstar.  That, at least, was a relief.  Hoshiko had no doubt the Druavroks would seek to reclaim the initiative as soon as possible, perhaps by launching an immediate attack on Amstar.  It was what
she
would have done.

But they’ll have to reload their missile tubes before they depart
, she thought, morbidly. 
And we need to reload too.

She sighed inwardly, then started considering future operations.  She’d have to go back on the offensive herself as quickly as possible, if she could find something she could use to give the Druavroks a nasty surprise.  The Grand Alliance would become unstable, she suspected, now the Grand Fleet had met its first real defeat.  They’d have to do something to prove that the Druavroks hadn’t suddenly become invincible.  But then, the Druavroks would probably anticipate that too ...