A Greater Interest: Samair in Argos: Book 4 (44 page)

Gants grunted.  “We didn’t have
any
assets out at the gas mine?”  He already knew the answer.  He knew what the deployment schedules were.  It wouldn’t be until after the trade delegation returned that some of the military assets would be redeployed throughout the system.  A good portion would have remained at the planet to defend the populace, the infrastructure and of course, the orbital.  But some would be sent out to the gas mine.  At least what was already here: most likely one or two of the destroyers, and a trio of corvettes.  The mine was important and would need protection.  And of course the
Leytonstone
would be on a roving patrol throughout the system.  Everywhere was important but they only had so many ships.  The Navy would need to keep the flagship moving, to provide as much defensive coverage as possible.

“No, sir,” Greer replied.  “Not a single ship.  Not even a cargo shuttle.  Only Samair’s forces.  She had four of those big floppy corvettes she loves so much and two squadrons of those new starfighters.  Along with a few defensive platforms, that was it.  I told you, a blunder.”

“How is that a blunder, Captain?  They haven’t got much more in the way of defensive ships.  One of their frigates was with us out in Ulla-tran; the other one was protecting their shipyard.  That’s all they had.  So what about their destroyer there?”

Greer snarled.  “Raydor’s ship?  Oh, they were trying to deploy it, but like the incompetent brutes they are, they botched it.  The oaf moved too slowly and he only got there right at the very end of the fight.  They’d already
lost
three of their corvettes, a handful of their fighters and nearly all of their defensive platforms.  They got their fuel tanks blown apart, their mining station chewed up and their construction ship nearly slagged.  In return, they took out a few of the pirate light units and did some damage to their cruisers but even then, all they did was just make the bastards leave.”

The colonel blinked.  “So they managed to keep the gas mine intact, destroyed and or damaged a load of superior pirate forces and managed to drive the bulk of the forces off… and this is a blunder?”

Aloicius Greer blinked, as clearly this conversation wasn’t taking the tack that he’d expected.  “But that’s ridiculous, Colonel!” he blustered.  “They got their forces nearly wiped out for almost no gain!  The pirates clearly left on their own, not because of anything
they
did.”

Gants sighed.  “I’d need to see their battle records.  I want to know exactly what happened, how many ships were actually involved, what kind of tactics and weapons were used.  Send them to me.”

The destroyer captain’s face clouded even further.  “That Samair woman has been incredibly tight-fisted with that data.  She’s refused to turn it over.  I even got the council to issue and order and she still refused.”

Gants raised an eyebrow.  “Samair refused a council order?”

Greer looked uncomfortable.  “I don’t know if it was an order, exactly.  I know that I sent the request to the admin council to get them to get her to transmit the records.  Then a short while later… nothing.  That was weeks ago.  I’ve sent follow up messages and I’ve received nothing.”

“I see.  Well, it sounds as though things were handled as well as they might have been expected, considering what First Principles had to work with.”

“I don’t see it that way, Colonel,” Greer said, his voice sour.  “If they’d been properly led and properly trained, I think they might have made a better showing for themselves.  Perhaps they might have been able to save more of their corvettes.  Done more damage to the enemy.”

“I want to see those records,” Gants repeated, though more to himself than to the captain. 

But Greer wasn’t listening.  “Why, if I had been here, things would have been completely different.  I would have been able to coordinate the attacks better.  Those pirates would be running away like whipped dogs.”

The colonel nodded absently.  “All right.  I’m going to get those records.  In the meantime, Captain, I want you to work with Commander Paxton.  We’re going to be working on some exercises with the entire fleet.”

Greer blinked in surprise.  “The entire fleet?  We’re going to uncover some real estate?”

Gants shrugged.  “There’s no help for it.  I want to get
all
ships within the Seylonique star system involved in the exercises.  But, of course there’s a snag.”

“A snag, Colonel?”

He sighed, rubbing his temples with the fingers of one hand.  “The
Leytonstone
suffered a serious engineering casualty, so she’s going to be laid up for a while.  But even while that’s going on, I want to have virtual sims with all available ships.”

“I know that the council is not going to be happy with this idea, Colonel,” Greer pointed out.  “I know they’re going to want to make sure that the planet and the mine have proper defensive coverage.”

“One thing at a time, Captain.  I’m going to talk with Samair and get those records.  In the meantime I want you to get with the other ship commanders in the local area together.  How often have you been running sims?”

“Twice weekly,” Greer replied immediately. 

Gants shook his head.  “Set up a sim for later today, six hours from now.  I’ll see if I can get Samair’s destroyer involved in the action as well.”  At the other man’s scowl, he steamrolled over the inevitable objection.  “They fought in the battle, Captain?  Then I want to see what that ship and crew are made of.”

“But later today, Colonel?  That’s going to throw off all of my schedules…”

Gants cut him off.  “It seems to me that things have gotten a bit complacent since this battle and since the
flagship
was out of the system.  It’s almost as though there are officers in the Seylonique Navy who don’t seem to know how to follow orders.”  Greer looked as though he was going to fire back an angry retort, but he thought better of it and swallowed his words.

“Yes, sir.”  Greer sounded as though his teeth were grinding into powder.

“All right, Mike, set us a course for the shipyards,” Tamara ordered from her desk.  She and the bodyguards were settled in aboard
Moxie-2
but it was clear that the normally spacious ship was feeling a bit cramped, what with five bodyguards, the COO and the pilot aboard.  There was enough room to accommodate them all, even with the extra weapons and gear that the guards had requested. 

“On it, Ma’am,” the pilot replied from the cockpit.  “Changing course now.”

“We’re going to the shipyard, Ma’am?” Calvin asked, from his seat on the couch.  He had a number of electronic devices as well as explosives spread out on the small coffee table in front of him and was assembling them.  Tamara was still nervous about the idea of explosives being assembled aboard her rather small ship, but the cat assured her that he was a professional and knew exactly what he was doing.  Tamara had two choices: either get him to stop, or trust in his word.  So, she gritted her teeth and turned her eyes away from the assembly and looked at the Severite’s face.  He however, was intent on what he was doing, though the twitching of his ears told her that he was paying attention to her.

“Yes, Mister Katsopolis, we are,” Tamara replied.  “I want to check on the new construction and I have a gift for the engineers there.

“A gift, ma’am?” Kiki asked, from where she sat on the other end of the couch.  She had a tablet in her hand and was reading over some report.

“Yes, Ms. Lamont, a gift,” Tamara went on.  “And, we’re going to stop there and get you four set up with implants.”  She gestured.  “The Serzhant here already has a set, as do I and our pilot in there.”

“I’m not entirely happy about this,” Viktoriya admitted.  “There is a degree of swelling that we have to deal with, which will put you out of full action for several days.”

The cat looked up from the device he was working on.  “A day off?  Really?”  Viktoriya glared at him, but he just blinked at her, unfazed.

“Don’t expect to be cruising around drinking beer,” Viktoriya almost snarled.  “You’ll be resting and convalescing in the hospital.  And during that time, when the doctors there say you’re up for it, you’re going to be reading over the latest activity reports for the system.  I want to go over security procedures for the yard and then here for the gas mine again.”

“Ma’am, I don’t want to be presumptuous, but shouldn’t we wait here?” Kiki asked.  When the others looked first at her and then at Tamara, she went on.  “I mean, the Councilor’s ship is coming in to the Kutok mine today.”

Tamara sighed heavily.  “I was thinking that we’d make a quick run up to the yard, then be back here for supper time to meet with the good Councilor.”

“Is that smart, Ma’am?” Kiki asked, clearly confused.  Beau gave her an amused look, but went back to sorting through his medical supplies. 

“Ms. Lamont,” Viktoriya said slowly, her voice like frozen helium.  “Insulting your principle is not the way to maintain employment.  Or favor among your serzhant.”

Kiki’s ears drooped and she hunched slightly.  “Sorry, Serzhant.”  She turned to Tamara.  “Sorry, Ma’am.”

Viktoriya looked slightly mollified, but Tamara waved away the apology.  “To answer your question, the answer is probably not.  But we
do
need to make this run to the shipyard to get the equipment there and I’m afraid that with all the pomp and circumstance over the arrival of the Councilor on the station, where I undoubtedly expect to have her expect me to toady to her every whim, I’ll have wasted a day or two that could have been used for more productive means.”

“And so,” Kiki pushed on, greatly daring, as Viktoriya actually rose from her seat to move closer to her, “you’re going to risk insulting one of the admin council to avoid wasting a day or two, Ma’am?  I mean, I’m not trying to insult you,” she said quickly, as the serzhant looked about ready to explode, “Ma’am.  I’m just trying to understand.”

“We’re going to have a chat,” Viktoriya hissed, storm clouds forming in her eyes, over her head.

Tamara chuckled.  “It’s fine, Serzhant.  We’re in private and she hasn’t stepped over the line.”  If she’d been human, Tamara would have touched the bodyguard on the arm in reassurance.  Tamara knew better than to do that with an aggravated lupusan.  She was reasonably sure Viktoriya had the control to keep from snapping at her (or tearing her head off), but she wasn’t going to test her head guard’s control.  She crossed her arms, swiveling her chair around to face the room proper.  “To answer your question, Ms. Lamont… I don’t know.  I do know that I’m not thrilled about having her out here, having the oversight.  I get the sneaking suspicion of my just deciding to do things and then doing them is going out the window.”

“Well, Ma’am…” the she-wolf said slowly.  “I mean, they
are
the people in charge of this system.  Can’t begrudge them some oversight.”

“Makes things damned inconvenient, especially if I start doing things they don’t understand or don’t like,” Tamara said sourly.  Then she nodded her head in the direction of the bulkhead.  “Like my ‘big ball of metal’ project that no one understands.  Even the ones I explain it to don’t
really
see it.  Not yet anyway.”

The guards, all five of them, exchanged a look.  Cleary they were among those who didn’t really get it.  Tamara sighed.  “I guess I have more work to do here at home.”  She stared up at the overhead for a few moments.  “No, you’re right.  This isn’t smart.  But I don’t have a day to waste on this.”

She got up, headed to the cockpit.  The pilot was busy working his controls, readying to engage
Moxie-2
’s engines on the course toward the shipyard, away from the space surrounding the gas giant and the great dance of shuttles, fighters, tugs and warships.  “Mike, hold up.  Change of plans.”

                            The pilot glanced over at her.  “Yes, ma’am?”

              “I need you to head back to the station.”  At his look, she spread her hands.  “Sorry.  I have a Councilor to meet and greet while
you
have a run to make.”

              “I’m sorry, Ma’am. 
I
have a run to make?”  He looked confused.

              “Yes,” she said, twisting her lips in a wry smile.  “I can’t delay getting this information and equipment to the shipyard.  It could probably wait a day, but Eretria Sterling is waiting and it’ll help speed up production there.  But they’re right, I do need to be here to welcome Councilor Hroth to FP’s little corner of space.”

              “Okay, Ma’am, so I can see why you need to stay here,” the man said, changing the ship’s course again, turning the vessel for a course back into the gas giant’s atmosphere toward the gas mine.  “But what’s this about an errand I’m supposed to be running?”

              “You’re going to take
Moxie-2
, but more importantly, the five marked crates in the cargo area, to the shipyard and deliver them to the Yard Supervisor.  Don’t worry,” she said, seeing him getting worried.  “I’ll send Eretria a message.  She’ll be expecting you and the gear.”

              “And if you need a ride?”

              She shrugged.  “Then I call you back once you’re done.  I think I can last for a day or two without my ship.  I imagine that I’ll be tied up in meetings for the majority of the time before you get back anyway.  So, Mike, get there, drop off, refuel then be back here by 1200 the day after tomorrow.  Got it?”