Rust Bucket (7 page)

***

We ran from our next battle, even though we outnumbered the enemy eleven to eight. About the only good things were that we didn't lose any ships and we did lose another commander. My own captain was given the title of commander and the first officer moved up to become the captain. He wasn't any better, though he at least knew the names of most of the crew. That was my first opportunity to move back up onto the bridge, but he preferred to work short-handed rather than trust a former civilian officer to know how to do things. It didn't matter to him that I came with the ship. Had he done his homework, he'd have discovered that the ten of us from Pennyweight had more decorations than the rest of his crew put together. We were authorized to wear them, but we didn't. None of us saw any reason to call attention to ourselves. We also knew the ship a lot better than he or anyone else on board.

***

Our third battle, if those were battles, we actually engaged with the enemy, all two ships of him. Despite outnumbering the enemy five to one, we managed to get one ship shot up while only destroying two enemy ships. The
Thurman
got credit for one and a half kills. The bad thing about the results of that battle was that it enhanced the reputation of our former captain. He bragged that the
Thurman
did so well because he had left a trained crew behind while the squadron's success was due to his leadership. When the combat videos were reviewed, the one and a half kills were strictly by the guns that Pennyweight personnel manned.

      It was at those battles that I first analyzed the enemy movements and procedures. I didn't consider myself a genius, not even near it. However, I was a good student and I picked up on things fairly well. One thing I observed was the enemy's apparent consternation at how our ships were fleeing. If we didn't change our tactics soon, we were going to run into a trap fairly quickly and regret the reduction in force of two years ago in spades. Not that I felt over-confident, but I did feel at times that I could have defeated the entire squadron with only the company's three gun ships, before any of them were upgraded, such as the
Thurman
had been. Against leadership like what we had, it would have been a picnic for me and a slaughterhouse for them and I was nowhere as good as Captain Marsha Marble. I felt that she could have done it with less than three ships.

      Nonetheless, we kept our mouths shut and went about our jobs. Meanwhile, I insulated myself with the regular Navy personnel by knowing about all of them and making sure that some of the things that should have been done by the Captain and First Officer were taken care of. It wasn't long after the third battle that most of the regular Navy personnel began coming to me for information.

***

Our fourth battle was another retreat against only eight enemy vessels. One of our ships was shot up, but managed to stay with us and went back to port for repairs. Our Squadron Commander was allowed the one mistake, so no more command reassignments were made. Meanwhile, our squadron of nine ships was sent back out on another mission.

***

Our fifth battle was the most disastrous of them all to that time. We lost three ships, one of whom was the Squadron Commander's ship. The idiot decided to charge the enemy at the last minute and forgot to inform the rest of us to attack with him. There wasn't enough of him left to pick up. The Captain who took charge saw what happened and gave the order to retreat. That was when we lost two other ships. Of the six that returned to base, only four were deemed capable of going out, one of which was the
Thurman.
Of all the damned luck, the Captain of our ship was given the position of Commander of the Squadron. I could only rely on our gunners to do their job in case that moron proved to be as inept as our late commander. I refreshed myself as to his class standing, finding he had been right behind the former captain. I really wondered where in hell were our better officers?

***

While in port, I learned from others that other squadrons were having the same problems, some of them even worse than ours. Only the fact that we actually outnumbered the aliens in total warships to begin with was keeping us alive in that war. I could see that if things kept going the way they were, we wouldn't enjoy that advantage much longer.

      I didn't know that there were things happening quietly behind the scenes. Some of which were going to affect me greatly in the future. A few would affect me sooner than others. Most of them were good, because there were people in the higher command structure who were wondering the same as I. They wanted to know why the hell we were losing when we clearly outnumbered the enemy and had weapons and ships just as good, if not better. The war shouldn't have lasted the four months that it already had.

      While the other two ships were being repaired at breakneck speed, I got my first promotion and became a lieutenant junior grade. I was still behind most of my classmates who were already lieutenants. A few were already lieutenant commanders. One, I learned, was actually a commander and under consideration for the rank of Captain. I was still the junior officer on board the ship, but at least I had achieved something. I also knew the ship and its personnel better than any other officer. Because I was still the junior officer, I remained in hydroponics.

      Because of our poor showing, I hoped that the other two ships would be repaired before we went out again, but such wasn't to be. We left port before they were ready as a four ship squadron. Our ship was in the lead when we came across an enemy scout that we proceeded to blow to pieces. I didn't need combat videos to know whose gun tore the scout to pieces, but I kept my mouth shut when it seemed that everyone was trying to claim credit. It was just as well for their attitude of superiority wasn't to last long. The scout managed to get off a warning message despite the fact that we dispatched him to his grave in record time for Navy units. It was nowhere near what the company ships could do, but that was apples and oranges. Our ships should have sent a message at that time, as well, since our position was known to the enemy and given out information to our forces that might have helped.

      We continued on to our patrol area, too confident within our command structure for our own good. We ran into eight heavy ships of the alien forces who proceeded to tear into our squadron from ambush. Only the fact that Frank was piloting kept us from being hit at first. I also pulled my first insubordination by announcing "battle stations" the old way. The Pennyweight personnel understood my meaning immediately and fired at the eight enemy vessels as Frank did his best to evade their shots and continue on. We lost two of our ships outright while the other ship was damaged heavily. Somehow the other ship managed to stay by our side as we fought our way through the ambush and out beyond them. At that point, we were cut off from our base when the Commander of the Squadron called me to the bridge.

      "By what authority did you give the command for battle stations and open fire?" he demanded angrily.

      "By what authority do you have the gall to even demand to know why I bothered to save this ship and your hide?" I answered just as angrily, upset that he had taken us into a trap and was too frozen in his command chair to give the orders for us to open fire. "Right now, you can court-martial me, though I doubt that you'll be able to explain it when the combat videos are processed. You can do that or you can take credit for saving what little command you have left and I'll keep my mouth shut when we get to port."

      He looked at me with almost the same frozen behavior that I learned of on the way to the bridge. Evidently, he must have decided to back off and take what credit could be salvaged from the whole mess. At least, if we could get back, we could report losing two ships and destroying two in the ambush, provided that the other ship with us could make it back. I didn't wait for his decision and walked out on him, leaving him to ponder his own fate, now that he was still alive, while I went back about my duties. To make it even worse, the moron didn't have the sense to try to chew me out in private, so our conversation got around to the rest of the ship in no time at all.

***

At the staff meeting the next morning, our situation was discussed a little more rationally.

      "We're here in the Lima Juliette Quadrant. The
Avenger
is heavily damaged with casualties equalling almost half her crew. Any suggestions, gentlemen?" the Captain asked.

      "Yes," I answered. "Have them land on a suitable planet to make repairs. If they can't, then we'll land to pick up their personnel. Their ship can be recovered later for repairs by Navy salvage teams. In their condition, they can't defend themselves. We can't afford to be tied down to them in space when we need to be fluid in battle. That's the only way to give their personnel the best chance for survival and the Navy the chance to re-use their skills."

"But we'll be alone. . ." he almost whined in reply.

      "We already are alone. They're out of action as it stands right now. They couldn't defend themselves against a scout, let alone a light or medium class warship. They're down to fifty percent of their personnel on their feet, two weapons stations operable, and less than forty percent maneuverability. They're barely able to keep us with us. If they try to do maneuvers at higher speeds, I doubt that their structure will hold together. I doubt that they want to provide cover for us to escape when they don't even stand a chance of survival," I answered.

      The Commander stared ahead, becoming frozen again in the face of aggressive action that required a decision. Having another ship next to us must have registered in his mind as still having a force. To me, we were alone even if there were twenty
Avenger
's in similar condition next to us. Quickly, the acting Captain of our ship chimed in with the same recommendation that the
Avenger
set down on a suitable planet. Even after the acting First Officer added his agreement to my recommendation, the Squadron Commander remained frozen. I left it to them to take action with the ship's surgeon to have the Commander removed and later placed under sedation. That happened within two hours after the meeting dissolved, rather than adjourned.

***

I was called by the acting Captain to the bridge shortly after the Squadron Commander was taken to his quarters. "What would you really do? Leave them on a planet or pick them up?" he asked.

      I said, "It would depend on whether there were any enemy vessels around. Do a complete sweep around the selected planet for enemy forces. Land the other ship and then ourselves as soon as they're on the ground. Then transfer their people over here. We can use all the personnel we can get. We're going to need to have personnel manning our battle stations around the clock once we're alone. We try that now, we're going to wear ourselves out. With their ship's complement on board, we just might make it. If we run into any enemy vessels, we announce battle stations and go after them with guns blazing. No more pussyfooting. We don't wait for them to shoot first. We already know that we're at war. The advantage lies with the side that shoots first and the most. If the odds are too great, then we get the hell out of Dodge, but not without leaving a calling card that might slow them down."

      "Do you really think that will work?" he asked.

      I answered, "I don't know of any better way. I'm certainly tired of slinking back to port with my tail between my legs."

      He dismissed me then. I returned to my duties unaware that others, who knew how I had been performing duties that he and the first officer should have been doing, were advising him to do as I suggested. In fact, the first indication I had that he adopted my suggestion was when the alarm for landing positions was given. It was a sloppy personnel transfer, but it was still completed before we could be caught on the ground with our overslick pants around our ankles. When we were back in space, I went forward to the bridge and sought out the acting Captain.

      "Yes, Lieutenant? What can I do for you?" he asked.

      I replied, "I want to assign some of these personnel to gun stations and get those who don't know how to shoot trained as much as possible before the enemy finds us or we find the enemy."

      "Is that all?" he asked.

      I answered, "That's all. I just want us to have the best chance possible. You run the ship. I'll just run the guns."

      That appeared to appease him, in that I wasn't questioning his authority and merely wanted to make sure his ship was ready for action. He nodded and I went about getting the personnel roster that came over with the men. At least, I picked up three good gunners and assigned them to places that were in need. The rest of the personnel started their first lesson as soon as I could get their attention a few minutes later. Soon everyone of them had a new battle station and someone was at each battle station the entire time. I didn't expect them to become good shots with virtually no real training such as practicing with the weapons. If they only put out fire in the right direction, we stood a chance of coming through that mess alive. After all, we were then alone so anything they shot at was going to be an enemy ship.

      I also got some hooks installed in the hallway next to the Mark III quad that I manned and slept there using my web hammock. It was high enough that it was out of the way. As well, it didn't interfere with ordinary movement that would have been by me in the first place since there was nowhere else to go other than the gun station from that hallway. It also freed up a room where more hammocks could be installed to take care of the additional crew members we then had.

***

As I expected, the surviving enemy ships were trying to find us. They didn't find the damaged ship, but they did find us. That time there was no complaint when I ordered "battle stations" over the ship's internal communications system. Almost all of our weapons started blazing away at the enemy just as he got into range. We had the satisfaction of seeing one more enemy ship destroyed before we managed to evade the others.