Battlecruiser Alamo: Not One Step Back (16 page)

BOOK: Battlecruiser Alamo: Not One Step Back
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 “My sensor tech tells me the shuttle has just left Alamo.”

 “That’s right, they should be with you in about ten minutes. You’ve got all the paperwork?”

 “All signed, sealed and approved; you have a very conscientious Operations staffer there.”

 “Good. Fleet will pay for the transfer, naturally, and probably a decent enough rate. I’m sure your money boys back home will be able to drive a good, hard bargain.”

 “Not for me to say, but between you and me I’d have no objection to doing this one for free. Seems like the least we can do after you ran in to our rescue.”

 “That’s all part of the service, Captain. When are you heading back?”

 “Tomorrow, probably. I want to run a few more systems checks before we leave, and I need to check in with the company office on the station before I head home. I’ll let you know when I go so we can take any of your messages – though I expect you’ll be heading back before long yourself.”

 Marshall checked himself, switching back to the cover story, “No such luck. Once we’ve tidied up the loose ends here, we’re off to Proxima for a couple of months for exercises.”

 “I don’t think your crew needs the practice, Captain.”

 “Feel free to tell them that at Admiralty when you drop off the prisoners.”

 Jennings chuckled, “Will do. Demeter out.”

 Closing down the terminal, Marshall walked out through the hangar bay, looking at the deck gang sitting around waiting for the shuttle to return, and headed for the elevator, glancing at his watch. He was off-duty – quite long off-duty – and punched the button for his quarters, tapping his shoulder as he waited for the doors to open. He pulled out a datapad and started scrolling through the preliminary reports from the crew; Mulenga had been quick off the mark with his reports, but aside from some interesting bits and pieces at Innes’ Star, there didn’t seem to be that much of interest.

 He wasn’t really looking where he was going, and as he walked into his quarters, tossing his jacket vaguely at a chair and missing by quite a bit, it took him a second to realize that Caine was sitting on his bed, shaking her head.

 “Christ, Deadeye, you really startled me there. How did you get in?”

 “You haven’t changed your password since you came on board. I think half the crew knows it.”

 He walked over to his chair, pulled it out to face her, and sat down, “That’s something I should probably do, then.”

 “If you want to keep classified material lying around.”

 Looking her up and down, he said, “This isn’t just a friendly chat, is it?”

 “No, this is an old friend deciding that you need to have some advice. That is what I’m doing out here, isn’t it?”

 He nodded, “I seem to remember that’s why I talked you to rejoining the service.”

 “Well, Jefferson aside, I’m glad you did.” Her face fixed for a moment, then she continued, “Just don’t leave me in command again.”

 “I probably have the least ambitious group of senior officers of any commander in the fleet.”

 “Don’t worry, Zebrova certainly has us all beaten there. She’s quite open and honest about it, at least; firmly expects to be named to a command when we get back, one of the scouts, maybe.”

 “I’m not so sure. She turned down a command to take this posting.”

 “Really? That’s interesting, she certainly seems to see herself as command-material; granted she seems to have the abilities to back that up.”

 Shaking his head, Marshall replied, “I’m just not sure she’s as good as she thinks she is.”

 “Because she eats rule-books for breakfast and dares to suggest that some of your key personnel might have weaknesses you don’t want to acknowledge?”

 He nodded, with a thin smile. “Something like that. She really managed to rile Cunningham.”

 “I know, he was complaining to me about her as well. She had a point, though; Operations wasn’t being run as well as it could be, and she’s working on that. You need to give her more opportunities to shine, frankly, listen to her more.”

 “I did just about manage to pick up on your little signal on the bridge.”

 “She could be a real asset to you, Danny, and you know it. You need someone who thinks regulation, and still stay on your side – and I genuinely think that she is on your side.”

 “Fine, fine, Deadeye. I’ll give her more of a chance, though I still think she’s wrong about Orlova.”

 “Is she? Look at Maggie’s record; a mustang who was in the service for about five minutes before you commissioned her, and now she’s a section head on a capital ship with two years’ experience. There are a lot of officers who did a lot more than her – on paper – to earn that rank and position.”

 “She’ll be a lieutenant in a year.”

 “Probably, and then she’ll be serving somewhere other than Alamo, most likely.” She smiled, “I know the way your mind is working, Danny. You’ve got the idea that you’ll wangle another tour as Alamo’s commander, never mind that it would do bad things to your career…”

 “I’m young for my rank now, remember.”

 “And that she can take over from me as Tactical, while I move upstairs to Operations, maybe – assuming I stay in the service. I’ve known you long enough to have some idea how you think.”

 He smiled, sitting back in his chair, “That’s why you are so valuable to me, Deadeye.”

 “Say it doesn’t work out the way you’ve planned though? Or more likely – say you push her too far, too fast, and she cracks. That could have been a serious problem during the battle.” She paused, folding her hands together. “I know she pulled it back again, but it wasn’t the greatest start. I presume you intend to try her again?”

 “I was planning on using her as your alternate.”

 Caine nodded, “I ought to be on the bridge next time, just in case. Ready to take over. She needs that pressure.”

 “She’s a good officer.”

 “I agree. You need to give her a chance to grow into a great one.” She paused, lounging back on the bed like a cat waiting to pounce, “All of this is just a prelude for what I actually came here to talk about, of course.”

 “And that is?”

 Taking a deep breath, she said, “You’re taking Alamo out again. After the Cabal, after your father.” She raised her hand, “Don’t bother trying to deny it – as I said before, I know you too well. I suspect that you are operating under orders, and that you somehow managed to talk Tramiel into it, but I think you’d go whatever happened.”

 He waited for a long moment before replying, “There’s not much point trying to keep this one secret, is there.”

 “Half the crew is expecting it. The mess is buzzing with it, and I think the crew are eager for it.”

 “Yes, then, I am going out. Proxima is just a cover story. I’m going Cabal hunting.”

 “Under orders?”

 “We’re going, Deadeye. Right now that’s all that you need to know.”

 She smiled, “Good. I wasn’t looking forward to a boring tour, though this one has begun interestingly enough.”

 “Since when have we ever had a boring tour.”

 “True. I presume you’re keeping it quiet in order to prevent any intelligence leaks?”

 He nodded. “That’s the idea. No-one else knows, not even Cunningham.”

 “Don’t worry, I promise to contain my boundless excitement at another chance to risk my life for the Confederation. You really ought to bring Mulenga into the loop, though. Give him a chance to get some course plots done.”

 “If he was doing any work along those lines, half the ship would notice the time lags. Do you have any idea how much processing power we’re talking about using?”

 “Well, now that your Tactical Officer is in on this, I can probably arrange some sort of cover story. Systems security upgrades, or something like that. Don’t worry, I’ll think of something.” She chuckled.

 Marshall smiled, replying “I’ll have a word with him tomorrow, get him moving.”

 “Where are we going?”

 “That is the big question. We haven’t really got any new leads to speak of. I was planning on heading out to Sagdeev first, refuel there at the new supply station, and curve off from there out Jefferson way.”

 “No leads at all?”

 “That spook we brought with us is supposed to be trying to shake some out from us over at Spitfire, but I haven’t heard anything except some sort of report from a local news agency that a Triplanetary officer was involved in a gunfight in a bar.”

 “Sounds exciting,” Caine said, shaking her head. “I thought he was on a covert mission.”

 “In any case, I haven’t heard a thing from him, so I’m assuming we’re on our own.”

 “What about the pirates?”

 “Good question, though if there is any Cabal connection there, it’s eluded us so far. That’s why I put Orlova on the job, she’s the best bulldog we’ve got. What do you think?”

 “I think I probably agree with you. There was a lot of ground we didn’t cover, and we can range out from Jefferson with Sagdeev as a base, cover quite a bit of territory. I don’t think they found any other decent prospects for colonies, though.”

 “Those reinforcements you fought had to come from somewhere. Any information we’ve got could be vital.”

 “Just how serious do you think this is?”

 “I think the Cabal is the greatest threat we have faced since the war. Maybe even greater, because we know so little about it.”

 She nodded, and her face grew serious for a moment, “And what about Hercules? There’s a chance it is out there as well.”

 “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t on my thoughts, Deadeye. Especially since we found Orlova’s father.”

 “I can’t imagine how that must have felt.”

 “I’ve tried, a few times, Deadeye.” He sighed, “Too hell with this, let’s have a drink.” Reaching under his desk, he pulled a bottle of swirling purple liquid out, as well as a pair of glasses,  “I’ve been wanting to try this one for a while.” She sat back while he began to pour.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 15

 

 Orlova banged her head on the guidance control console as she heard the doors to the scout’s bridge creak open; Carpenter walked in, looking around. Rubbing her forehead with her good hand, she pulled herself to her feet, trying not to knock her shoulder to the deck; it was still giving her a throbbing ache despite the best efforts of the doctor.

 “Knock next time, Susan,” she said, shaking her head.

 “Sorry,” Carpenter replied, looking sheepish. “I came over on the last shuttle, thought there might be something I could do to help. I got chased out of Astrogation a while ago, some sort of secret project going on I wasn’t allowed to look at.”

 “Secret? In Astrogation?” She smiled. “The Captain’s taking us out again.”

 “Out?”

 “Out after Hercules. Back out after the Cabal. It’s the only explanation that makes any sense – not least you being here.”

 Carpenter sat down in a chair at the rear of the bridge, replying, “I thought we were heading for Proxima after this mission, training exercises.”

 “A week’s pay says that’s just a cover story.”

 “I certainly hope so, after they dragged me all the way out here.” Orlova shook her head, and Carpenter continued, “Have I said something wrong?”

 “It’s just the idea of not wanting to be out here. Seems strange.” She pulled herself back over the console, tapping a couple of buttons to start another search cycle. “What did you expect to be doing right now, anyway?”

 “Starting work at the family business; we make life support components for asteroid bases.”

 “What does that have to do with palaeontology?”

 “I just wanted to study it. It’s always fascinated me, since I was a kid. My folks had the money to support me through it, and, well, someone has to be the Triplanetary Confederation’s leading expert.”

 “Didn’t expect it to end up being useful, though.”

 “So far all I seem to be doing is dogsbody work. Matsumoto even had me helping out with the Captain’s paperwork.”

 “One day she’ll get that backlog down.”

 “What are we doing, anyway?”

 Orlova smiled, waving her arm around the bridge. “Looking for something, I don’t know what. Anything that might give us any sort of a lead on the pirates. Could be as simple as a dropped datacrystal or a discarded food wrapper.”

 “Find anything yet?”

 “Only that this ship has a rat problem.”

 Carpenter grimaced, saying, “They didn’t tell me about that when I signed up.”

 “Don’t worry, Alamo’s pretty clean. Quinn runs a tight ship, exposes anywhere that might be a problem to space every few weeks or so. Best vermin control in the galaxy. Not like some places I’ve been.”

 Orlova drifted around the console to the elevator, and Carpenter rose to follow her. As she moved across each console, she set off another search cycle; they’d already checked the data storage twice, but checking again couldn’t hurt – and Harper had told her where to find some of her special search algorithms, which might make a bit of a difference.

 “Where are we going now?” Carpenter said.

 “Cargo deck. Most of the bottom deck’s been stripped down, run into one big storage section. Seems like a pretty good place to look.” She tapped the button, continuing, “Anywhere that isn’t visited very often in the normal course of ship operations – I want to find places where the cleaning routine might have been lax.”

 The elevator proceeded down the decks in fits and starts, lurching on occasion, sending the two of them bobbing up and down. She poked a couple of buttons, trying to smooth out the ride, but there were some fundamental maintenance problems in the guts of the system. Finally, the doors opened and they drifted out into an empty, cavernous space, lights flickering overhead.

 “You check the air filters, I’ll take the awkward corners.”

 Orlova pushed off towards the far end of the cargo bay, watching Carpenter push up to the ceiling. In zero-gravity, anything dropped would tend to travel towards the vents; it was an unpleasant enough job to clean them that it was something that a lot of lax crews would postpone until the build-up presented a problem. Of course, sorting through them would also be a messy process, and one she hadn’t been craving.

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