Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (19 page)

“In other words it's time to play the what-if game, sir?” Catherine asked in amusement.

“Yes indeed. What if we jump in and they are waiting in ambush?”

That idea made the staff blink then frown thoughtfully.

“You are thinking they'll court battle even though it is obvious we've got the edge, sir? Won't that
Prowler
warn them?” Berney asked carefully after the silence lingered a little too long.

“I'm throwing it out there. Yes, it’s ballsey, unless you think it through. They could pull a hit and run. Hit us as we transition down from hyper and then run before our weapons can recover.”

“Using their superior speed to get to the next jump point and do it again, sir?” Catherine asked, thinking the scenario through. She didn't like it, didn't like it at all. Their ships would be at their most vulnerable exiting hyper, their sensors blinded with no intelligence about their surroundings. Most of their power systems would be transitioning from the hyperdrive to other systems.

“Throw the priority at powering our sensors and defensive systems first?” Berney mused.

“Defenses first, then sensors? I'm not sure,” the admiral said. “Anyone think of a counter?” He surveyed the room. “Other than jumping short or long?”

“Long would allow them to be behind us. We could theoretically pin them. We'd be on the inside, and we could run them down easier. But they'd be coming up our backsides initially,” Berney said, obviously not liking that idea. Sedrick shook his head. Others did as well. Catherine pursed her lips in thought.

“Jumping short … if we came in on a slightly different vector, high, low, on a flank … that'd throw them off. If we worked the geometry right, we can minimize their short run to the next jump point or set it up so we can hit them along the way I suppose,” Catherine mused.

“That's good. Now, what else? What are we missing or overlooking?” the admiral asked, sitting back and drumming his fingers on the table edge again as he let them brainstorm. “I want more than this to bring to the flag conference scheduled for later today. And I want ideas and scenarios for the various squadrons to do. Exercises to try to keep them sharp,” he said.

Catherine frowned then nodded. “Well, I suppose we can come up with a few things, sir. We can use the computers to alter the ships to function in sims like any ship I suppose. I think we can tweak the parameters to have a ship run at full Fed standard. That might make things lively for some,” she said glancing at the intelligence officer.

Sedrick nodded as he picked up the thread. “An excellent idea. We've trained on basic fleet operations, but we need to bring the singletons we picked up into the fold, sir. I think we've been working on small problems, division issues, and squadron tactical exercises. I doubt we have the comm ability in hyper for a full-up exercise,” he said glancing at Catherine. She shook her head. He pursed his lips and then grimaced. “Right, thought not. As I said, we can move one or two ships in company for basic exercises. Since we can't do full-up exercises until we're in subspace, what I'm thinking is we work on taking objectives or holding objectives. Essentially capture the flag but with jump points, stations, and planets.”

“Wise,” the admiral said, flicking his fingers for the man to continue.

Sedrick nodded as he organized his thoughts. “Well, to start …”

:::{)(}:::

Lieutenant Commander and Chief Engineer Floyd Riker rubbed the small of his back as he shut off the grinder and used an arm to wipe the sweat dribbling into his eyes. Shoulda worn a sweat band a small part of his mind scolded. He snorted as he took a sip of water and then put the cap back on his sports bottle.

Star Mauler
had been a plum assignment, emphasis on
had
. He hadn't expected deployment so soon, nor so many problems within weeks of leaving the home star system. Teething problems he'd expected. After all, as a
Reaper
class dreadnaught,
Star Mauler
hadn't flown her lights in hyper for centuries, but this was beyond that sort of headache.

He like a few of his counterparts had gone through the brief spurt of fear when they'd first entered hyper. After all, there was no telling if something went wrong … and if it did and was catastrophic enough, there was a great risk of the ship being destroyed with all hands, including mama Riker's darling little tinker.

He snorted. His mother had been damn proud when he'd gone navy, but he knew she'd been scared as a Neo in the games for the first time. He also knew she'd sighed a sense of relief that he would no longer be in her hair tearing things apart just to see how they worked. A soft fond smile briefly hit his lips before it was banished by the scowl that replaced it.

When they'd exited the initial jump to Garth, he'd sighed a hearty sigh of relief. Apparently Murphy had been listening. The bastard had sent his gremlins to make sure the engineer learned his lesson.

Lessons plural he thought as he supervised the parts being ground smooth and then lifted with jacks into place. He turned back to his own project and studied the long crack. Every ship had problems with more cracks in the structure of their ships. It was inevitable given the ship's age and how they'd found them. When his people had first found them, he'd gone over the records to see if some idiot had deliberately overlooked the problem. He hadn't found anything or anyone to point a finger at.

Which meant it was squarely on his shoulders. At least the skipper was holding off on the boiling oil until he got the job fixed. He'd raked Floyd over the coals several times. It might have let the skipper vent but it hadn't done the chief's temper any good either or his anxiety quotient—nor his ability to get the job done.

It wasn't fair, he thought, running a hand over his sweaty face. He took a linen handkerchief out and used it to wipe the sweat off and then he stuffed it back into his pocket. It really wasn't fair his errant mind grumbled again. He'd inherited the mess! Besides, it wasn't like he could have seen through the layers of paint to see the damn problem! He shook his head.

It didn't matter. What mattered now was he was in charge of fixing it. Lucky him.

One of the great things he'd thought when he'd taken the exalted position was that he didn't hold down a regular shift. The senior officers were supposed to be supervised. He technically was supposed to be off duty since he'd already worked a twenty-four, but the skipper, XO, and chief engineer were floaters. They were
always
on duty, especially when there was trouble like this he thought. He shook his head and exhaled when he realized there was no way he was going to get to bed anytime soon. Perhaps not until they got into subspace and maybe not even then. The skipper and admiral might want a complete survey of every ship followed by repairs.

One thing at a time he thought as he picked up an angle grinder. He needed to get the crack's seams ground beveled and the entire work area cleaned of scabs before they tried the weld. Behind him a team was working on setting up a cable and turnbuckle to try to tighten the frame members together. It wasn't a permanent fix, just a bush fix he'd heard about. But it was all they could do for the moment short of a full-yard overhaul.

He flipped down his welding helmet and got to work, being careful to move the grinder around and not heat up any one section too much.

:::{)(}:::

Commander Berney Yashanka did his best to put the stresses and frustration of the past several weeks behind him. It wasn't easy. The engineering issues had been a constant headache; they'd forced them revisions to the schedule several times. The admiral's desire to press their pace had put him between a rock and a hard place.

But the anxiety was fading as the prospect for battle took its place. He was certain they had enough fire power to do the job. Riding beside
Executioner
, their
Reaper
class dreadnaught flagship was her sister ship
Star Mauler
. Arrayed around them was the First Battle Cruiser Squadron. Six battle cruisers of various makes. Arrayed in an outer layer beyond that were Cruerons 2 and 5, forming a sixteen-mixed cruiser class shell. And out on point was the screen, DD Squadrons 6, 7.

Behind the main fleet was the fleet carrier
Nimitz
, with DD Squadron 8 screening the fleet train of twelve supporting ships and acting as the rear guard.

If the fleet train could get
Nevada
and
Massachusetts
halfway decent, they'd add them to their number along with any other ships in Nuevo Madrid that the admiral could get his hands on, if they still existed. That damn
Prowler's
appearance put that into doubt.

They could have been scouting before a mission, he reminded himself. See what is near and then hit Nuevo Madrid? Or were they there now? It would be nice to jump them! To smash anything they had before it hit Nuevo Madrid, perform their own timely rescue! Surely the gods of space owed them that much!

He shook his head at such thoughts.

Admiral Cyrano De Gaulte was an old dinosaur; he'd heard the talk in the fleet and home political circles in and out of the navy. He was one of, if not
the
best, strategist of the empire than the best in the field, he thought in his humble opinion. If anyone could make bricks without a lot of straw, it was him. However, there remained that lingering unknown. He was also aware that the admiral's lack of desire to play the political game, to stay as he said, above politics was a hindrance. And it wasn't like it had worked in the end anyway; they'd been saddled with three of the royal family and several children of prominent families! He had to look out for them despite the admiral's desire to treat them as the officer they were.

Such a silly concept, to treat royalty as normal everyday officers. He shook his head. And if that officer should die or stub their toe? He knew it would come back to haunt the admiral and by extension, his own ass. No, he had to keep an eye on them. Fortunately, Catherine was a good sort and riding alongside him in
Executioner
. Once they smashed the federation's offensive sword, they would be able to sweep in and take back what they had rightfully conquered, then move on to the rest of the federation. The royals would garner a great deal of the glory he thought briefly. Hell, they'd probably end up fighting over it at some point.

But not right away, at least he hoped not. The admiral might be eager but the realization that their ships weren't quite shipshape and combat ready was an indicator that they might have more problems down the road. The engineers certainly thought so after all.

And then there was the threat of battle … and with it, battle damage. Would their current engineering problems be compounded? Could they be a fatal weakness? He hoped not.

Either way, they were going to find out shortly he reminded himself.

:::{)(}:::

Lieutenant Commander Sedrick Lovato dismissed the rating who'd handed him the latest report. He glanced at it and then tossed it onto the table. It was all GIGO, garbage in, garbage Out. Drivel, make work. Until they had fresh INTEL, they were just rehashing the same points over and over. Sure, the admiral hoped they'd tease some sort of revelation, some weakness to exploit or some hidden threat they couldn't ignore, but they were going in anyway.

He'd get enough INTEL, more up-to-date INTEL to process once they were in Nuevo Madrid. He knew it was bad; how bad he wasn't certain. He checked the clock then grunted. The make work did serve a purpose; it kept people busy. Kept them occupied and on task.

The admiral's staff like the crew of the flagship and other ships in the fleet were anxious, some nervous. The thrill of excitement was gone; the threat of meeting a real reaper angel stalked their hindbrains.

It was the first
real
fleet deployment of Battle Fleet. The Gather Fleet's attempts had been disastrous failures, but then again, considering the source material … He shook his head.

It was obvious that this new federation was just getting onto their feet. They had the full tech database and skillset based on the reports he'd read. He'd certainly stressed that often enough to the admiral! He was certain that his boss understood the threat.

So far though they hadn't deployed any capital ships. So, the time to hit them was now, to nip this rebellion in the bud. To take what they'd built or smash it. Taking it was important, but making certain they would never again threaten the empire and its ambitions for the galactic stage was equally important.

He was certain it would be a hammerfest. He glanced at the clock again as his hand picked up the tablet once more. He could use the distraction, he thought with a grimace.

:::{)(}:::

Admiral De Gaulte sat in his wardroom in his favorite chair and stared out the window. Well, not window technically he thought, watching the stars zip by in a blur. Actually an LCD made to look like a window he thought absently as he took a sip of his drink. It was a wonder of technology and on a warship a necessity. Not only did it give him a look at the outside world, something his hindbrain apparently craved from time to time, but it also gave him a massive screen to view far more than just the outside world on it. With a flick of his hand to the remote he could have it call up a preprogrammed image of Horath, or a video he'd saved in his video vault.