Last Measure of Devotion (TCOTU, Book 5) (This Corner of the Universe) (8 page)

May slapped a hand on
the broad back of the former Lagrin officer.  “Give us the right equipment,
Commander Soffe, and you’re going to be amazed at what we accomplish.”

*  *  *

The day
after the Saden ball, a firm knock interrupted Heskan’s deskwork.  Before him laid
the entire week’s exercise schedule.  He had planned it meticulously,
attempting to anticipate every contingency, every possible outcome that might
occur during each step of the coming battle.  While in the midst of the
preparation, it occurred to Heskan that this was the first time he was solely
responsible for a fleet’s exercise.  He had tapped all of his experience when
dealing with Shane Durmont and CortRon 15, his observations of Admiral Hayes’ task
group and his collaboration with Komandor Lombardi’s hybrid fleet.  The
amalgamation of these experiences created what he hoped was the perfect roadmap
of where his fleet would start and where it would finish.

The
first leg of the trip began with his next command.  “Enter.”

The
door retracted and Captain Nguyen entered the office with crisp strides.  “You
wanted to see me, Captain?”

Heskan
nodded.  “Yes, I did.”  He gestured toward a comfortable chair placed
strategically near the side of his desk.  “Won’t you please sit, Yon?”

Nguyen
took the proffered chair and speculated, “Is this about the exercises, Garrett?”

“Yeah.” 
Heskan inhaled deeply and then stated matters plainly.  “Yon, I’m not good at
dancing around issues so let me just get to the point.  Admiral Cooke’s death
demonstrated how vulnerable this fleet is if the man at the top is killed.  I
know that his murder was an extremely rare occurrence—”

“Without
precedent,” Nguyen stated gruffly.

Heskan’s
head nodded a second time as he affirmed, “Yes, but now that it’s happened, we must
have a contingency plan in place in case it happens again.”

Nguyen
shook his head skeptically.  “Oh, Captain.  I hardly think Sade will make
another attempt on our fleet commander.  They’re already looking at serious
penalties and sanctions from The Courts on Nessus.  Is there any word on the
hearing, by the way?”

“Archduke
Covington managed to get the hearing on The Courts’ calendar before Sade could
log their
casus bellum
.  The hearing will take place before their
attack.”

Nguyen
leaned back with a satisfied look on his face.  “We remain one step ahead of
them.  How many more weeks will that buy us?”

“At
least a month, probably more.  All witnesses will have to travel to Nessus to
testify.  How long does it take The Courts to make a ruling?”

“A
matter of days,” Nguyen answered.  “With any luck, the penalty they impose on
Sade will be sufficient to make their
casus bellum
not worth the price.”

Heskan
dipped a shoulder.  “Perhaps, but I suspect Wallace will press for the battle
regardless of the ruling.  He doesn’t seem like a man who lets things go easily,
which brings me back to the purpose of this appointment.”  Heskan looked Nguyen
in the eyes.  “One of my most sacred duties as fleet commander is to ensure
that there will be an orderly flow of command should I fall in battle.”

Nguyen
smiled congenially and said, “I agree with your statement, Captain, but as I
said, Sade will hardly risk angering The Courts further with another sabotage
attempt on our C-Three ship.”

It clawed
at Heskan that, to this day, nobody wanted to call Sade’s treacherous actions
what they truly were.  He steeled himself for his next sentence, hoping his
tone would take the sting from his decision.  “I won’t be on the C-Three ship, Captain. 
I’m going to command the fleet from Dioscuri.”

Nguyen’s
jaw dropped open.  His befuddled expression matched the tenor of his voice. 
“Bu—but, isn’t that
my
ship?  It’s been my command for only a week.”

Heskan
leaned toward Nguyen and said apologetically, “I must lead from the front,
Yon.  It’s in my DNA and I need an ace in my pocket in the event that I’m
killed in combat.”  He pointed at the Seshafian officer.  “If that comes to
pass,
you
are the only one that could save the fleet.  Everyone respects
you; they’ll listen to you.”  Heskan stared hard into the man’s eyes.  “I need
you on the C-Three ship, Yon.  Seshafi needs you there.”

Nguyen’s
head lowered with the realization that his command had been taken from him. 
After interminable moments of silence, the senior officer looked to Heskan. 
“If that’s where she needs me, that’s where I shall be.”

The
major hurdle cleared, Heskan and his second went over the details of the
upcoming week.  The aggressive schedule was built in decision-tree fashion,
with each day’s goals dependent on the milestones achieved during the previous
day’s results.  After several hours of discussion, Nguyen unslaved his datapad
and exited the office.  Minutes after his departure, a second knock at Heskan’s
door revealed Commander Vernay.

“I
had your secretary page me when Nguyen left,” Vernay answered his unspoken
question while leaning against the doorway.  “How’d he take it?”

“Better
than I expected,” Heskan admitted.  Although Nguyen was most certainly mired in
the mores of “old” corporate warfare, the man’s loyalty and professionalism seemed
unquestionable.

Vernay’s
expression soured lightly.  “So he didn’t talk some common sense into you?”  She
stated the question as fact as she walked into the office.

“He
tried.  Fortunately, Brevic valor prevailed,” Heskan joked to break the tension. 
“Honestly, Stacy.  If you were in my position, would you sit out the battle, safely
ensconced inside the C-Three ship, five light-minutes away, while your people
took all the risks?”

Vernay’s
blue eyes turned downcast briefly before rising again to meet him.  “Yes, I
believe I would.  I wouldn’t like it but I’d accept that as fleet commander, my
proper place is not on the front line.  It’s been that way for a long time.”

“But
it’s not the Brevic way,” Heskan insisted.  “Besides, Stacy, I’m not a fleet
commander at heart!  I’m just a ship captain.  Less than two years ago, I was commanding
a fifty-hand corvette!”  Heskan smiled shyly.  “Covington told me the Board is considering
promoting me to rear admiral with the title of baron if we successfully defend
Seshafi.”  He shook his head while looking away.  “We both know that’s not who
I am.  I’m not some baron-admiral who decides the fate of star systems.”

Vernay
strode purposefully to the front of Heskan’s desk and lowered herself to place
her hands on its surface.  Her positioning put her at direct eye level with the
seated fleet commander.  “Garrett, you are a corvette captain, you are a fleet commander
and you are a man whose destiny
does
impact an entire star system.” 
Glistening, cerulean eyes pierced Heskan as much as the conviction in her voice. 
“Whether you wish to be or not, you
are
those things and much more. 
Accept that you are special, Garrett.  Embrace it.”

Gooseflesh
broke over Heskan at the words of the woman who had stood steadfastly by him
the past year and a half.  In the silence that followed, the depth of her eyes
threatened to bathe him not only in profound wisdom but also in a comforting embrace. 
He rocked back slightly, overpowered by the moment.  “Stacy, where would I be
without you?”

The
spell broken, Vernay grinned and answered, “Back in the Republic?”

“Her
magazine is full now, sir,” Lieutenant Commander Cottineau confirmed to
Dioscuri’s
newest captain.  He approached the door to the bridge and stopped short to
permit Heskan to enter first.

Heskan
had met Mike Cottineau several times during the final fitting of the line ship
but never as his first officer.  The lieutenant commander seemed capable enough,
although understandably surprised at the news that the fleet commander would
not only be directing the actions of the fleet but also the fleet’s flagship. 
Heskan had reviewed Cottineau’s naval record thoroughly before coming aboard
and was satisfied with what he found.  The Seshafian had seen action in two
battles involving IaCom.  Starting with the more distant one, nearly a decade
ago, IaCom and AmyraCorp had allied together to fight against Unadex.  It was
that battle that cemented Admiral Cooke’s place in history by outmaneuvering
the opposing Unadex line ships and “crossing the spacial-T” with predictably catastrophic
results for the enemy.  Until that momentous day on 0921.987, no fleet had
successfully accomplished the decisive maneuver in over a generation of war. 
Even Unadex ship captains had blinked their running lights in salute to Cooke’s
incredible display of spacemanship.  Back then, Cottineau had been a mere
sub-lieutenant witnessing history from behind a weapons panel.  More recently,
Cottineau commanded the snow,
Tigre
, in Seshafi’s defensive action
against IaCom two years ago.

In
that skirmish, Cooke specifically cited Cottineau’s bravery in fighting his
ship to a second pass despite “fierce and most distressing damage received in
the first tilt.”  Heskan had casually discussed Cottineau’s capabilities with
Captain Nguyen, who himself captained the brig,
Hawk
, during that
engagement.  Everything pointed to a sailor with the capacity to step in and
command
Dioscuri
if Heskan needed to focus on the fleet.

“The
latest delivery gives us a full complement of Javelin Nines, exactly what Sade
will have,” Cottineau added.  “Those missiles have a speed of point four-four-C
with close to forty-five light-seconds worth of endurance.”

“Slow,”
Heskan muttered, “and with very short legs.”

“We
don’t want the Javelins flying too far and accidentally locking on to a
civilian ship and any missiles that can move faster would take up too much
space in our magazine,” Cottineau explained.  “Besides, they’ll be going
roughly three times faster than their target and even if they don’t hit, they’ll
draw fire away from us.”

Heskan
grunted an acknowledgment as he stepped onto
Dioscuri’s
bridge.  Like
all space-vessel compartments, it was “just big enough.”  No one called the
bridge to attention—that had been Heskan’s first standing order after assuming
command.  Instead,
Dioscuri’s
second officer, Peyton Gentry, greeted the
duo with a friendly, “Sirs.”

Heskan
acknowledged with a nod while waiting for
Dioscuri’s
weapons section
commander to vacate the captain’s chair.

“Ship
status, WEPS?”

Gentry
smiled at the moniker as she moved toward her station.  “Green across the
board, Captain.  She’s ready for full operations.”

Although
a Seshafian native might have disagreed, the rush to
Dioscuri’s
operational readiness had proceeded with measured order.  The line ship’s newly
installed captain had seen far greater, and more frenetic, pushes to achieve
combat readiness in freshly launched naval ships.

CDS
Dioscuri
was now
the pride of Seshafi.  A full, “triple-decker” second-rate line ship massing 8,430
tonnes, she boasted excellent defenses and state-of-the-art weapons.  Like all
modern line ships, her armament was concentrated solely on her starboard beam
or “battle face.”  The proud ship’s four missile emplacements could salvo a
quartet of missiles every forty-five seconds starting at a range of 45
ls
. 
These weapons alone ensured that nothing massing less than another line ship
would dare sail against her.  Two enormous dorsal turrets resided atop her
third deck to comprise the heft of her directed-energy punch.  Each massive
turret housed twin Federation Maclex heavy lasers.  For the inevitable knife
fights common to corporate warfare, the line ship supplemented her four heavy
lasers with three dual Lyle GP laser turrets on her lower deck and two
additional dual GP turrets capping either end of her missile ports on her mid-deck. 
The four heavy lasers and ten GP lasers made her the equal of nearly any corporate
line ship in the Lesser Magellanic Arm.

Heskan
seated himself and confirmed the second officer’s assertions with a quick
glance at his chair arm panel.  To his left, Cottineau mirrored Heskan’s
actions from his own station.  “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us,” Heskan said
to no one in particular. 
Eight hours of planned exercises,
he thought
while running down the status of the fleet.  His ships were already formed into
their planned sections with
Dioscuri
leading a four-ship vanguard
trailed by
Ajax’s
six-ship main.  After several minutes of initializing
the exercise program, their computer-simulated enemy appeared 10
lm
ahead
of the fleet.  Based on Sade’s order of battle, Heskan knew they would be
facing twenty-eight ships ranging in size from a second-rate down to
corvettes.  While the exact composition of Wallace’s ship sections would remain
a mystery until the day of the battle, Heskan assumed a nearly equal
distribution of ships among three sections.

Nguyen
advised him that past a certain point, having vastly superior numbers in a fleet
section was counterproductive in the line battles of corporate warfare.  It
limited the entire section’s maneuverability while providing little benefit, as
the outnumbered opposing section usually sailed past engagement range before
the trailing elements crossed its path.  Instead, a fleet commander with
grossly superior numbers usually placed the excess ships into a reserve that
would be eligible to join any section that needed bolstering after a pass.

Heskan divided the
twenty-eight simulated adversaries into three sections of nine ships each with
a reserve of a single corvette.  The Saden vanguard held twice as many ships as
Heskan’s own.  It was shaping up to be a bloody day. 
Eight hours of being
pounded by phantoms,
he thought morosely.

*  *  *

“Six
degrees starboard!” Commander Vernay barked as she premeditated where the two
lines would reach their closest points on the tactical plot. 
Ajax’s
navigator worked feverishly to determine the precise amount of thrust needed
from each of the line ship’s sixteen thrusters.  Precious seconds passed as
calculations were made, inputted and adjusted.  All the while, the captain
glanced anxiously toward her first officer.

Lieutenant
Commander Ricot shrugged helplessly at Vernay before resuming his intense focus
on the ship’s navigator, as if his concentration alone could shave seconds off
Ajax’s
response time to her captain’s order.  After what felt like an eternity, the
ship pushed her bulk to an orientation that would better present her batteries
to the oncoming phantom enemies.  Ricot looked back to his captain, intending
to give her a more confident gaze but saw her head was already down and
studying her chair arm console.

Beginning
with the first day of exercises, Ricot noticed that Commander Vernay opened an
additional window on her console and duplicated
Ajax’s
weapons control
panel.  While the display did not contain an override feature that would grant
her control over the ship’s batteries, it gave the enigmatic captain the same
view as
Ajax’s
weapons officer.  For the duration of the week, she had
spent considerable time with her nose in those displays.  It worried Ricot. 
Neither Commodore Johnston nor Captain Nguyen had ever shown such a keen
interest in such minutia.  Instead, they had focused their attention on
commanding
Ajax
and coordinating with Admiral Cooke.  Ricot tried to alleviate
his fears by telling himself that Hollaran captains fight their ships
differently than Seshafians, but the fact that
Ajax’s
new captain appeared
unwilling to trust her juniors after the long week of exercises filled Ricot
with dread.

The
battle pass played out with the main section taking moderate damage from the computer-generated
Saden counterpart.  Like the majority of their passes, their overall fleet
instructions up to the exchange had been well planned.  Captain Heskan might be
a bit bloodthirsty but he also seemed adept at placing his fleet sections into
advantageous positions immediately before shots were fired.  Lieutenant Skoglund,
Ajax’s
navigator, had successfully accomplished the last-second task of
orienting the ship to her best facing in time for those shots even if Ricot
wished it had been performed slightly faster.  The hectic orders in the final moments
were necessary because
Ajax
was concealing her true target.  During the
brief time the opposing sections passed close enough to trade fire,
Ajax
turned slightly to attack not the Saden line ship she faced directly but the
brig trailing it.  The fourth-rate had consistently combined fire with
Falcon
and
Hawk
to decimate the unfortunate Saden brig.

The
results of their most recent pass bore this result yet again.  Trailing
simulated fire and debris, the targeted Saden brig was a wreck.  Additionally,
the three Iron Brigade ships comprising the rest of
Ajax’s
section had
united their fire against a Saden snow with similar, ruinous effect.  In
recompense, the simulated adversaries inflicted damage upon the ships of
Seshafi’s main ranging from light to moderate.  Ricot confirmed the damage
estimated by their computers and came away smiling, pleased not only with
Ajax’s
performance but also with the opportunity to serve his captain an easy softball
she could use to compliment the crew.  “Not bad, eh, Captain?”

“We
missed again with our first Maclex shots, Sam,” came the unyielding reply.

Ricot
winced slightly at the observation as he looked away from the demanding ship
captain and toward her bosun.  The calm, grey-haired master chief petty officer
seemed to be the “yin” to the fiery captain’s “yang.”  Ricot took a moment to
consider his response and finally admitted, “Yes we did, Captain.  They’re
tough ones though.  That brig is a high deflection shot.  We’re just starting
our thrust and there’s no time to coordinate between the helm and the gunners.” 
He pointed at the main wall screen.  “They hit with everything after that.”

Ricot
saw the “little” captain with a big attitude open her mouth, pause and then
close it again.  She typed rapidly on her datapad.

Speakers
inside Ricot’s shocksuit helmet crackled to life.  “Attention all ships, this
is Captain Heskan.  Good work on that last pass.  We’ve punished our computer
foes for long enough, I think.”

Ricot
saw grins break out over the bridge at their fleet commander’s praise.

“The
next time we do it,” the reassuring voice continued, “it’ll be for real.  Let’s
assume caravan formation and head back home.  I want everyone to get a good
night’s rest.  All ships will be ready to form up tomorrow at zero-eight-hundred
when we will begin to make way for Sade.  Try to get some rest, speak with your
loved ones and come back tomorrow locked and loaded.  Ship captains will
conference with me tonight at twenty-hundred hours.  Heskan out.”

“We can’t
afford to waste our shots, Commander Ricot.”

Ricot
cringed again.  “I agree, ma’am.  We’re doing everything we can to hit.  In
fact, our first heavy laser barrage hits more often than not—”

“I
don’t want more often than not, Sam!  I want hits!” Vernay snapped.  The
woman’s hands flew over her console and the bridge’s wall screen flickered before
producing the Seshafian fleet status display.  Vernay used her index finger to
draw a huge, sloppy circle around the fleet’s vanguard.  “Look at them,
everyone!”  Her voice boomed with an anger that seemed out of place.  “Our
section may be getting off lightly but those four ships in the vanguard are
getting pulverized. 
They’re
paying the piper for
our
laser
shots.”

Ricot
heard the woman pound at her controls, causing the fleet status display to zoom
inward to
Dioscuri
.  The second-rate boasted true shield generators,
like most modern line ships, but there had been several spot failings in her
defenses.

“How
many people are dead on Dioscuri, Sam?” Vernay asked vehemently before breaking
eye contact.  She snarled as she pointed at Pruette sitting at the weapons
station with a malevolent gaze that threatened to bore a hole straight through
him.  “Do you want me to tell those sailors that they have to sacrifice their
lives even though we can’t be troubled to aim our opening salvo?”

Ricot
watched the midshipman deflate before his eyes.  The man shook his head feebly,
“No, ma’am.  I’m sorry.”

Ricot
turned back to the ranting ship captain to see if the pitiful attempt at
appeasement was successful.  “Don’t be sorry, Tyler!”  Vernay was now
standing.  Despite her physical stature, her presence filled the room.  “Be
accurate!” she spat before spinning in place and stomping out of the
compartment.