Battlecruiser Alamo: The Price of Admiralty (11 page)

"Captain on the deck!"

Mulenga rose with evident relief on his face, as did Esposito. Fury danced across Zakharova's features as Marshall made his way to the head of the table with precise steps, gesturing for her to move out of his place.

For a brief second he thought he was going to have to order Tyler to move her, but she finally nodded and strode to the other side of the table. He managed to sit down before his legs gave out from under him, and gestured everyone else to seat.

"Shouldn't you be in bed, Captain?" his Exec began, before turning to the doctor, "I understood, Doctor, that his condition was extremely serious."

"I can't help being amazing at my job, Lieutenant," Duquesne replied. "Nor can I refuse the orders of my commanding officer. When he tells me he's ready to attend a staff meeting, I am forced to agree."

She pointed at him, "You can declare him medically incompetent."

"I could, but I'm not going to."

Lieutenant Caine smiled, taking a drink of water from the desk. "Captain Marshall is here, he's fit, and he's in command."

"You are allowing your personal feelings for Captain Marshall to overcome your professional judgment."

Marshall looked daggers at Zakharova. "Lieutenant, this conversation is over. Now. If you wish to continue it then you can do so in your cabin, but I warn you, no-one will be there to listen."

Dietz nodded, "Unless judged medically unfit, the Captain is in command." He slid over a datapad. "My operations report, sir. Training has proceeded along the lines you directed, and though I consider we still have some weak spots, all key personnel are operating at required levels of competence."

"What's this I heard about a revised shift rotation?"

The operations officer looked at the executive officer, "I was instructed by the acting commander," it might have been Marshall's imagination, but there seemed a slight stress on the word 'acting', "to prepare a plan along the lines I suggested at our last meeting, with the staff separated according to their former services."

She nodded, "It would be the best way of improving crew efficiency. I have ordered that it will be implemented as of the next watch."

"My gunnery crews won't be, Lieutenant, I'll tell you that now. I've only just got them meshed, and we'd be missing some key people," Caine said.

"You are flirting dangerously close to insubordination, Ms. Caine."

"Really?" Caine said sweetly, then turned to face Marshall, "Am I being insubordinate, Captain?"

Before Zakharova could escalate the argument, Marshall slammed his hand on the desk, instantly regretting it as a bolt of pain stabbed up his shoulder. "That's enough, both of you." He turned to face Dietz, "I hope you haven't wasted too much time on that outline, Lieutenant, because
I'm not implementing it
. Inform the shift heads accordingly."

"Wait a minute," Zakharova began.

"Aye, sir," Dietz replied. A look passed between him and the executive officer that Marshall had trouble reading; he raised his hand to warn Caine not to gloat.

"Sir," Esposito said, breaking into the silence. "Before you arrived, Senior Lieutenant Zakharova placed me on report for coming to the meeting without her approval."

"I ordered her to be here, Lieutenant," Marshall said, looking at his furious Exec again. "And in future she will be attending all staff meetings. Our Espatier force is critical to ship operations."

"Patrol doctrine was to keep such meetings small, to senior officers only," Dietz said, his voice still calm and flat.

"I prefer to receive input from the widest possible range of sources before making my decisions, Lieutenant."

He nodded, "I will alter the invitation software accordingly. Are the Doctor and Sub-Lieutenant Tyler to be invited as well?"

"As if I'd have time for this nonsense. Some of us have work to do, Dietz," Duquesne said, hunching forward on the table.

"Mr. Tyler will attend all such meetings in his role as department head. I will yield to the Doctor's desires in this regard."

"I will see that it is done, Captain."

Marshall looked around the table, trying to read the room. Most of the officers seemed relieved that he was back in command; his doubts focused on the Patrol contingent. Zakharova looked as if she was contemplating mutiny, and as usual, Dietz was almost impossible to read. Quinn had returned to his technical journals, and Mulenga seemed relieved for another reason; as if a weight had been taken from his shoulders.

"I can catch up on the last week in individual meetings later on. And we will get to those one-on-ones at the same time, I haven't forgotten. Mr. Quinn, vessel status?"

The young engineer looked up from his datapads. "All fine, sir."

Caught slightly by surprise at the brevity of the report, Marshall asked, "That's it?"

"FTL drive working fine, reactors at full capability, weapons ready to go, sensors operating normally. Everything's fine."

Rolling his eyes, Marshall turned to his Exec. "What about the battle stations drills?"

"Poor, sir. Principally because of the difficulty faced by the Martian and Titanian crewmen in adapting to Patrol protocols."

Not again. "Lieutenant, I will remind you for I hope the final time that we are not in the Patrol. I consider that answer unacceptable." A voice in his head was telling him to give up, to pass the job to someone else. "You have four hours to provide a better solution within the restrictions I have established."

"I will assist, Lieutenant," Dietz offered. "I suspect a deficiency in our training programs."

Marshall nodded, looking at the two of them. "I want maximum war-fighting ability. Not adherence to protocols. Concentrate simply on the best possible performance on vessel systems. Lieutenant Caine, work with the two of them."

Watching her face fall, he started punching out a crew roster on his panel. "I note that Sub-Lieutenant Kibaki has some combat experience as well. Bring him in, Lieutenant," he addressed his Exec again, "to get the Titanian perspective."

She looked as if she was about to make another objection, but Marshall caught Dietz almost imperceptibly shaking his head. "Yes, sir. We will meet once our business here is concluded, and provide a report in four hours."

"There are still two days to our destination. Let's use them. Now, about the system itself. Lieutenant Mulenga?"

The astrogator nodded, and called up a complicated three-dimensional hologra
m
of the system they were approaching, taking a battered laser pointer out of a pocket. "The system ahead has five planets and two asteroid belts; the latter is of little serious interest, being too far from the planetary system for easy access. As far as I can determine, there have never been any surveys."

He pressed a button, and a pair of course projections appeared. "The flight plan provided to us by Cornucopia Mining indicates that their survey team was planning to focus its attention on the
outer moons
of Gatewood, the superjovian gas giant closest to the star."

Quinn nodded, suddenly interested again, "Standard mining company practice."

"Indeed. They were also going to examine Ragnarok, one of Gatewood's moons." He pushed a button, and the map disappeared to reveal a white and blue moon, a sheet of ice broken only by the occasional gray and brown of a mountain range. "This moon has an oxygen-nitrogen atmosphere suitable for human habitation, as demonstrated by the original UN surveys."

Tyler looked around the moon, obviously nerving himself to speak, "Why wasn't it colonized?"

Mulenga replied, "Too cold. The moon is currently in a '
s
nowball' environmental pattern. The average surface temperature is minus twenty at the equator. No life forms aside from single-celled organisms in small colonies, though the survey indicated that there was extensive life before the moon entered its current phase."

"When Arcadia and Thalassa were discovered, the whole UN focus was switched to worlds where the temperature and gravity were more suitable," Marshall added. "That moon looks a little on the small side."

"Gravity is about two-thirds that of Earth. Suitable for long-term habitation, but not economically viable," the astrogator said.

"A habitable planet around a red dwarf star...," Quinn shook his head. "Hard to believe."

"Barely habitable, Lieutenant. Lalande is a fairly quiet M-type star, and the planet is in a near-permanent cold state, despite its proximity to the sun. Even then, if it was not orbiting a gas giant as well, it would not be viable." He punched another pair of buttons, bringing up some text, then continued, "The records indicate that the company was considering a small settlement on the moon for food production."

Caine whistled. "How much money did they have?" she said. "That's a bit beyond dropping in a few prospectors."

Marshall turned to face her. "Tactical projections?"

"We only know where the Yukon was attacked." She punched a series of buttons. "It came out at this point, behind Gatewood. Surveys indicated that that point had the greatest concentration of asteroids. There was someone waiting for them."

"What options are there?" Zakharova asked the astrogator.

"Realistically, only the two point
s of stability between Gatewood and Ragnarok
. Any other point would require weeks of travel time to get to the scene of the battle. If you wish to transit to one of the more distant points, I will need to know immediately so that I can begin altering our hendecaspatial trajectory."

"No," Marshall shook his head.

"We might be arriving into a trap, Captain. If we jump further away it gives us more opportunities to evaluate the situation, not to mention more time to recharge our FTL if we need to make a speedy retreat," Zakharova insisted.

"And they still might have someone waiting for us, Lieutenant, and it would give them a chance to put together a larger force. Captain, they've got to have pickets at both of the emergence points. I'd rather fight one of them than both of them," Caine said.

"I agree. Lieutenant," Marshall addressed the astrogator, "plot our emergence at the same point as the Yukon. I want the ship to be at battle stations five minutes before emergence to give us plenty of time to prepare, everyone. We're not a prospecting freighter, we've got the teeth to bite back at whatever's waiting for us. Now the final topic of the meeting, my incapacitation."

Everyone looked at each other, as if thinking that someone was going to stand up with a bloody knife and confess to their crime. Caine gave Zakharova a look that suggested she was convinced of her guilt. Tyler simply blushed, aware that the focus was moving onto him. He coughed a couple of times, and nervously began to speak.

"My investigation has revealed little to preclude the possibility of a recurrence," he began. "Though I have now checked all of the personnel records to check for similar discrepancies and found nothing."

"I have likewise examined the records, Captain," Dietz offered.

"What steps did you take, Lieutenant?" Marshall asked Zakharova.

"Security personnel stationed at all key areas of the ships, as well as a standing patrol of the decks. Periodic surprise inspections of critical areas, all personnel warned to report any suspicious activity to myself."

"Sounds good. Covers all the bases." There seemed to be some surprise around the table at Marshall's approval.

Tyler looked down at the table, then back up, "My people are heavily overworked, sir. I've got them on double shifts..."

"Sometimes that is essential, Sub-Lieutenant," Zakharova said.

He looked sharply at the Exec, continuing, "...and they are beginning to lose their edge after six days. I'm concerned that the possibility of sabotage will only increase when we reach Lalande, and my men will need to be at their best."

Esposito suggested, "Why not use some of the espatiers?"

That produced a murmur around the room, "That's not exactly customary, Ensign," Marshall said.

Looking slightly uneasy, Tyler nodded, saying, "Either that, or I need about five people transferred to my department. We're not set up for this sort of constant patrol work."

Dietz shook his head, "That would leave us badly short-handed in critical departments, Captain. I am forced to agree with Ensign Esposito's suggestion."

Marshall turned to Esposito, "Do you have any objections to lending us a squad, Ensign?"

She looked around the room, "No, sir. Not if I can have them back if necessary."

"Very well. Assign third squad to the job. Mr. Tyler, I expect this to be a temporary measure."

"I hope so, sir."

"Very well, I think that covers everything. Dismissed."

The officers stood up, and started to file out of the room. Mulenga waited at the door as the rest filed past him, then turned to speak to the captain.

"I was contemplating the possibility that I might have to assume command, Captain. It was not one I relished."

Marshall leaned forward, "It was that bad?"

"Lieutenant Zakharova seems a good officer if supervised." He gestured at the captain's side. "I take it that you are not quite so fit as you appear."

"The Doctor assures me that I will be ready when we reach Lalande."

"I and many others will be relieved. May I ask a question?"

"Certainly."

"Did you arrange for the espatiers to be part of the security force because you have loyalty concerns?"

Marshall recoiled into his chair, "What?"

"You've answered my question. Worse things happened during the War, sir."

He nodded, recalling a few such incidents, "These things we need to put behind us, Lieutenant. I give you my word that nothing of that sort will ever take place on any ship I am commanding."

A rare smile crossed the astrogator's face as he rose, "I should resume my tactical arrangements. By your leave, sir?"

"Dismissed."