Storm Force: Book Three of the Last Legion Series (20 page)

The toll at “day’s” end was two Kellys destroyed, with the survivors of one crew recovered against orders, two
velv
destroyed and one
aksai
lost, three
Kellys
damaged.

Larissan casualties were five destroyers and seven patrol boats killed, and an unknown number of ships damaged.

It was a Cumbrian victory, but Angara thought it was far too expensive, a judgment he shared with the other field-grade officers of the Force, and not his men or the exultant holos.

Jon Hedley noted, with cynical amusement, that Loy Kouro’s
Matin
was now the loudest to sing praises for the heroic women and men of the Legion.

Hedley kept the detailed assessment of the engagement close, but it was no surprise: The smaller Kellys were more maneuverable and had better electronics suites than the Larissan destroyers, which intelligence arbitrarily dubbed the Lan-class until they’d learn the Larissan designation. The Lan-class, on the other hand, were faster in secondary drive, more heavily armed, and had bigger crews.

Velv
were quicker, more maneuverable than both the Lans and the Nana-class patrol ships, and could be more heavily armed than any patrol class. But they were far more fragile than either of the Larissan class, as, of course, were the
aksai
.

The Force’s biggest advantage was that the Cumbrian pilots had more combat experience. But that, Hedley and everyone else knew, would change as the war went on.

There were three scales to be considered: which side could outbuild the other; which side could train pilots more quickly; and, of course, which side fought more skillfully.

• • •

To Garvin, Njangu, and the other students, this first battle between the ships of war was no more than noted in passing. They were too busy with their own affairs. Dill might have honestly articulated the school’s philosophy, but that didn’t mean the instructors, both field and classroom, weren’t working their pupils to the bone and beyond.

The
aksai
pod was double-canopied. In one lay Alikhan, in the other Garvin.

“Are you comfortable with the situation?” Alikhan asked.

Garvin wanted to say no, not really, that there was no frigging way he’d been trained enough to even push an out-atmosphere Grierson around, let alone the quirky Musth attack ships.

“Yes, sir,” was all he said.

He heard a hiss, looked over at the other bubble, saw Alikhan’s mouth open wide, fangs showing, in amusement, obviously knowing Garvin’s thoughts.

The
aksai
hung a planetary diameter off D-Cumbre, with nothing but a single chase ship behind it.

“You will note that we are surrounded by nothing but vacuum,” Alikhan said. “So if you do go out of control, there is nothing to hit except that other
aksai
, and its pilot is very skilled at evading out-of-control students.

“You have completed both the hypnotism and the computer simulation of the controls and how this ship behaves, so you should not be unfamiliar with what it shall do under your control.

“Are you ready, Garvin?”

Garvin inhaled deeply.

“One question, Alikhan?”

“Ask.”

“How many hours did you have in an
aksai
before you were allowed to fly it?”

“That is a hard computation … let me think … perhaps two hundred of your hours in various other craft.”

Garvin, with a bit over fifty hours, took the controls.

“For our first exercise,” Alikhan ordered, “we will accelerate at half drive, and make a complete orbit around the moon Fowey, staying well clear of the surface, and return to this point as closely as you can.”

Garvin applied power, felt the increased hum. The
aksai
shot ahead. Fowey grew visibly larger.
Damned thing kicks out
, he thought.

“Very good, Garvin,” Alikhan said after a while. “I notice you have been anticipating the behavior of this ship. That is the only way to successfully pilot it. You must stay ahead of the
aksai
, or …”

“Or it kills you,” Garvin said grimly. They’d lost two students already. War thinking had come fast — the loss of the ships was mourned more than that of the prospective pilots. Besides, the disasters had to have been pilot error, everyone in the class
knew
, since there has never been a flyer who believes in things like luck, fate, or unflyable craft.

“That is true,” Alikhan said. “Prepare for the orbital change as you approach the satellite. And do not forget your charting, to reach your desired point of return.”

As if I’m not busy enough
.

“This is most relaxing,” Alikhan said. “After we do two, perhaps three of these simple exercises, it shall be time to learn evasive and quick-response piloting.

“We shall not, initially, practice these tactics against another pilot, for obvious reasons. Instead, you will transition out to the asteroids off G-Cumbre.

“They make perfectly acceptable enemies for the beginner to attack.”

Garvin, who’d begun to relax a trifle, found himself as tense as when he’d stuffed himself into this cockpit.

• • •

“Boss,”
Adj-Prem
Monique Lir told Erik Penwyth, “even though you’re just acting II Section honcho, I’d like to request a favor.”

“Big or small, Monique?” Erik, being an ex-I&R enlisted man, still wasn’t used to the woman who’d trained him and then controlled his entire universe sirring him.

“Pretty big.”

“Then I think you’d best wait until Garvin and Njangu get their wings or bust out, and the chain of command goes back to normal.”

“I already talked to both of them and, well, what I’m asking for is actually sort of their idea. Although the other noncoms and I agree.”

Monique didn’t explain that it’d taken Garvin and Njangu most of a night they desperately needed for study and sleep to hammer the always-traditional warrants in I&R into seeing beyond the present.

“If both those two have signed off, and want you to push it through, this is goin’ to get tricky,” Erik said. “Not to mention possibly putting my ass in a crack.”

“Not a chance, boss. The Old Man’ll probably give you a medal for creativity.” Lir wondered where she was suddenly coming up with this sneaky approach, decided she’d been around Yoshitaro too long.

“I&R’s up to full strength again,” she went on. “Matter of fact, I’m hiding five warm bodies off the roster. And we’re not doing anything these days except running up and down hills and trying to keep from being a paintbrush brigade for headquarters.”

“I’ve been tryin’ to keep them off your back as much as I can,” Penwyth apologized. “But sometimes they get around me, and you folks end up clipping the damnation grass.”

“Forget about it, boss. Anyway, the idea we’ve got is to bust up I&R into the basic two-man fighting pairs, and then put us to work learning how to fight in ships.”

“There’s no way Angara’s going to let I&R be dissolved,” Penwyth said. “And I’m a little shocked you can even think about something like that.”

“Not permanently,” Lir said. “Just for additional training, hopefully going out with the raiders. But the way the war’s going to go, I think the Force could use some extra missile crewmen and gunners. Once somebody’s learned how to fight from a ship, we can add the specialty to their records.”

Penwyth tapped fingers on his desk, realizing that he wasn’t the perfect Rentier anymore, since he badly needed a manicure.

“Interestin’,” he said. “And not that bad an idea. Not to mention that as the Force gets bigger, which it’s going to have to do, I suspect, those I&R people with the extra skills’d be in line for instant promotion.”

“A little money never hurts,” Lir said.

“The only problem, Monique,” Erik said, “is if things get too hectic, everybody who needs a shooter’ll be lookin’ at I&R as a replacement pool. You could lose some of your best crunchies like that.”

“Not to worry,” Monique said, expressing a confidence she didn’t feel. “The real sneaks’ll manage to stay with me, and the rest can go on to glory.”

“I’ll talk to the Old Man,” Penwyth said. “And I don’t see any reason he wouldn’t let I&R go on temporary duty hither and yon away from home and justify all those rations you clowns suck up.

“Go ahead and start drawin’ up the orders and settin’ up the pairs.”

“Already in the works, boss. I started punching computer buttons this morning.”

“Hmph. You presume a lot,
Adj-Prem
.”

• • •

Redruth tried another surprise attack, sending half a dozen destroyers into the Cumbre system from a nav point “below” the system ecliptic, trying for another strike on D-Cumbre. But Cumbrian detection systems found them, and patrols went after the six. The Larissans were slashed apart far off D-Cumbre, although two Cumbrian ships were destroyed, and three damaged. The war was escalating.

A surprising number of the students made it through flight school: forty-seven total. As promised, the cadre had done everything they could to help. Also I Section — Personnel — had done a good job of trying to put square pegs in square holes.

Of the forty-seven, only a handful were chosen for
aksai
specialty training, which demanded the highest ability — and a fairly unimaginative character, since fighting ships were not high on any insurance actuary’s list.

Neither Garvin nor Njangu made the cut, especially since they already had important slots. Nor did they much want to fly
aksai
, even though that was the prestige assignment for pilots.

More students were picked for second seat on a
velv
or a destroyer for seasoning and quick promotion if they fulfilled their promise.

The lower third of the class was assigned to either Griersons or Zhukovs. Angara had decided the Force could take their chances with a lesser pilot at the controls of an ACV, but not of a spaceship. Highly rated aircraft ACV commanders, in spite of their frequent protests, had been scheduled for the next flight class, starting immediately.

After Angara had made a speech, Dill had stumbled through congratulations and gotten teary, wings had been pinned on by friends or family, the graduates stood around the parade ground, wondering what to do next. Somebody said they should start a tradition and throw their kepis in the air, an idea quickly vetoed when somebody mentioned what a new one cost.

“There’s always simply getting drunk,” Garvin said. “Highly regarded in some circles.”

“I could do that,” Jasith said, an arm around Garvin.

“If you’ve got the energy,” Njangu said, “have one on me. Maev and I are going to haul to the Shelburne, where she can watch me sleep around the clock. The other two days the Force so magnanimously gave us will be spent finding the loudest hard-nuts bar in Leggett City with a good band.”

“Oh come on,” Maev said. “We can have a drink before you crap out on me. You’re not
that
old yet.”

“You’re right,” Njangu said. “I hope. Garvin, whyn’t you grab a noncom and have them invite everybody to their club? Us elite ossifers aren’t permitted to invite lower ranks to our club, for fear the enlisted swine’ll realize what dull bastards we are, socially.

“What a bunch of yoinks we are, indeed,” Garvin said. “Hey!
Tweg
Renolds! C’mere a second! We’re gonna impinge on you!”

• • •

It wasn’t much of a party. The training had ground the students down pretty well, and after a drink or two, they filtered away, yawning, toward transport to Leggett City and on, or to their barracks.

Garvin ordered a final round for the half dozen people at his table, felt nature’s call, and went for the bathroom. He saw Darod Montagna sitting by herself at a table with a beer, stopped.

“Hey, Darod,” he said, and wondered why he felt a little awkward. “Congrats again on your promotion.”

“Thanks, boss,” she said.

“Are you sulking or just shy?”

“Neither,” Montagna said. “Waiting for a friend to get off, then he and I are having the pure joy of checking our teams’ Class IV equipment.”

“A noncom’s work is never done,” Garvin said in his best, most obviously sanctimonious tone. “Uh … I’ll see you later.”

He stopped at the bar, dropped a bill, and told the barkeep that was for Montagna’s tab, went to the ‘fresher, came back to his table.

“Who’s that?” Jasith asked, curiously.

“One of the people who was on Kura with me.”

“Why didn’t you ask her over to join us?”

“I dunno,” Garvin said. “We’re on our last shout, aren’t we? Didn’t think of it.”

“Mmmh,” Jasith said. “Pretty, isn’t she?”

“I hadn’t really noticed.”

“He isn’t permitted to notice,” Njangu explained “The life of a serving soldier is an unhappy one. We can’t lust after anybody with more rank than we’ve got, or less, and the odds are anybody with the same rank’s uglier’n death on a holiday.”

“Ah,” Jasith said, looked at Garvin a bit strangely, but she said no more.

• • •

The two
aksai
ungrappled from the
velv
, went to full drive toward the five dots on-screen. They were about three AUs off Larix.

“This is One,” Alikhan said. “Suggest we split, and hit the outer ships first.”

“Two,” Dill said. “It’s a plan. On your move.”

Seconds later, the two ships orbited away from each other, closed on the Larissan ships “below.”

Dill armed his launchers, swung his sight to one dot, touched the
ENGAGE
sensor.

“Closing … closing … closing … son of a bitch!”

An alarm blatted in his ear, and a red bull’s-eye appeared on his canopy. He’d been targeted by something. He touched countermeasure sensors, changed orbit, and the bull’s-eye flashed again.

“That mother’s no goddamned merchantman,” he muttered, keyed his com.

“One, there’s enemy in that enemy.”

“Understood,” Alikhan’s voice came. “I, also, am the target of a hostile ship, and have fired a countermissile.”

Info flashed on Dill’s canopy.

“It’s one of their destroyers,” he reported.

“And another after me, also.”

“Shitaroo,” Dill complained, toggling launch buttons. “I’ve got three destroyers on-screen … guarding two lousy merchantmen!”

“Suggest a double-launch, self-targeting, and we flee.”

“Agree all the way,” Dill said. “We’re outgunned, outmanned and maybe out-thunk.”

He fired two Goddards in the general direction of the Larissans, dumped three Shadow antimissile missiles to guard his rear, went back as quickly as he’d come.

“This is Two,” he reported to the
velv
. “The bastards have discovered the convoy system. We gotta do some rethinking.”

• • •

The next encounter was between four
aksai
, mothered by a single
velv
, and a ten-ship group of Larissan ships. It was a disaster. Six of the ten Larissans were destroyers. Three
aksai
were destroyed and the last limped back to the
velv
, which barely escaped into hyperspace as the destroyers attacked.

The Larissan convoy system was becoming very efficient.

• • •

There were five in the command center on Chance Island, Dr. Danfin Froude,
Alt
Ho Kang, Garvin, Njangu, and Erik Penwyth. All were intent on their computers, except Penwyth, who appeared half-asleep.

Njangu muttered as his screen scrolled data.

“Goddammit, but this is elderly shit! Some of these files are reporting battles on water!”

“Anything interestin’ that the spear-and-arrow set did back then?” Penwyth drawled.

“Uh … not yet,” Njangu said.

“I got something,” Garvin said from the other computer terminal. “No I don’t.”

“Garvin,” Froude said gently, “why don’t you share it with us, and see if there isn’t something hidden in the dross?”

“ ‘Kay. But this just plain doesn’t pertain. The idea was to take a convoy apart with capital ships, like those cruisers we all hope Redruth isn’t building which we don’t have any of.”

“What about using a different kind of hammer?” Ho Kang said. “Just overpowering the convoy escorts with massive strength?”

“We still don’t have those kinds of numbers,” Froude said. “We can’t afford to put a dozen destroyers or even
velv
out at every wide place in the road, hoping we find a convoy here and there.”

“You’re right,” Kang said. “Bad thinking.”

“Whyn’t you,
Cent
Penwyth, quit sitting there looking aristocratic and help us?” Garvin said. “Angara wants a solution to this convoy idea yesterday. And I’ve gotta go out someday yesterday and make sure C-Cumbre and the Musth are all happy and feeling secure, again at our fearless leader’s request.”

“Yes, sir,
Mil
Jaansma. Sir,” Penwyth said. “Actually, I do have a suggestion. Whyn’t you, when you’re out playing footsie with our furry alien friends suggest that, just for excitement, they might want to provide us a war fleet or six? Even the odds a bit, give them a chance to murder some more humans, and so on and so forth.”

“Alikhan tried that one,” Froude said. “They said they would take the matter under advisement. I suspect the Musth are more than happy to see humans killing humans, and see no particular reason any of their ichor needs be shed.

“If Redruth or his admiral had any strategic brains, which I doubt, they’d try to blow up the mines on C-Cumbre, kill a bunch of Musth, and get them to sever relations with us.”

Garvin produced a mock shudder.

“Don’t even think things like that, Doctor. Remember when the ‘Raum did just that, and all of a sudden we were in a whole new war?”

“Hang on,” Njangu said. “I think I just might have a way to go. Transferring data.”

The room was very quiet as Njangu’s discovery was considered.

“Mmmh,” Froude said thoughtfully. “Of course. The only problem is modifying the ships and training the operators, which takes time.”

“Unless somebody comes up with something better,” Garvin said, “I’m going to take this to the Old Man and suggest we try it.”

• • •

Angara did approve, and ordered three Kellys currently on the ways to be modified, losing half their armament for massive electronics suites.

Then the search began for the operators.

“Which should be most simple,” Penwyth said. “All we need is someone capable of juggling four rather sharp objects at the same time, while duckin’ a feller throwin’ knives at them.”

• • •

“Do you know something,” Maev Stiofan said. “I’m of a majority, I’m free, thanks to you, I’ll be able to vote in another year, once I get Cumbrian citizenship, if I don’t want to remain a Confederation citizen, and I don’t have the foggiest idea on what the hell I want to do next.

“Oh yeh,” she added. “And I’m broke.”

They were lying on the beach on the far side of the Shelburne. Njangu’d managed a few hours off, because
Caud
Angara was having a dinner conference at the hotel, didn’t need him to be anywhere but nearby, and they had seized the moment to go anywhere that wasn’t military-looking.

Njangu was grateful Maev had brought the subject up. There
were
problems. He’d had enough in savings to rent a small apartment in Leggett City under her name, but even with flight pay, combat pay, and proficiency pay, he was barely breaking even at the end of each pay period.

He supposed there wouldn’t be any problem tapping Garvin, since he had access to the Mellusin billions, but didn’t want to do that. That’d make him dependent on Jaansma … or Jasith. Not to mention the fact that Maev was currently dependent on
him
. He hadn’t had time, back on Larix Prime, to think about what would happen after he and Maev got out alive, since that option didn’t seem likely at the time.

“You could always go back to school,” he suggested.

“I could,” Maev said. “Once I decided what’s worth studying.”

She dug toes in the sand.

“What a goddamned trap,” she said. “I’m born on that stupid hydroponics world and grow up going out of my mind with boredom. So I enlist. I get highjacked, end up in some goon’s army, where I’m either scared shitless or angry for almost five years.

“Then … free like a goddamned bird. At least birds have some idea on what they want to do next.

“The way things are going,” she said morosely, “I might as well join the goddamned Force.”

“You could do that,” Njangu said. “Apply for a commissioned entry, so we could still screw. Assuming you still wanted to.”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I dunno,” Njangu said uncomfortably. “It’s just that you didn’t seem to have much choice in the matter, back when I was playing
Leiter
.”

“Njangu, if I hadn’t wanted to stay on with you,” Maev said, “you wouldn’t have seen anything except dust trails.

“Maybe,” she said thoughtfully, “the real question is, do you still want to see
me
when you wake up in the morning?”

“Well … I …” Njangu’s voice trailed off. The realization came. “Yeh. Hell, yeh. I do.”

“ ‘Kay,” Maev said, trying to keep relief out of her voice, “that’s one part of the puzzle solved.”

“Let’s go back to this idea you’ve got of enlisting,” Njangu said. “I sure wouldn’t like it if anything happened to you.”

“Staying a civilian’s likely to keep me out of harm’s way?” Maev snorted. “Redruth’s still out there, and I haven’t heard of him distinguishing a whole lot between soldiers and civvies. Especially after that one nuclear try.

“And let’s not forget I’d be worrying about
you
, wouldn’t I? Things are getting hotter, and I don’t want to be just sitting when you go out, worrying my ears off.”

“Enlisting,” Njangu said thoughtfully. “Now, if we got you some nice, safe job out of the line of fire, but where you could be part of things, and not in my chain of command … hmm.”

“Safe?” Maev said. “I thought you said one of the virtues of the Force is everybody fights.”

“Well, yeh,” Njangu said. “But there’s degrees of getting shot at.”

“Mmmph. All right. Here’s my résumé. I’m good at what? Ordering people around. Spit and polish, which the Force doesn’t have a lot of. Fine shot. Quick on weapons assimilation. Fair with a knife. Good at hand-to-hand. Field maneuvers. Small-unit leadership.

“Hey, that’s an idea,” Maev said. “I could go I&R.”

“Like hell you could,” Njangu said, outraged. “That’d be ruination city, and thoroughly screw — ”

He broke off, seeing that Maev was laughing at him.

“We better think about this one,” he muttered.

“Congratulations, sir,” Hedley said. “It flew like a flipping bird through PlanGov on the second vote, and I swear neither Penwyth nor I did any real blackmailing. Two percent emergency tax — some of the Council members gargled at that one — to pay for the manpower increase. Just like that.

“Sameo-sameo with your second proposition. The draft’ll be set up as soon as possible, but volunteers are preferred, and you’re now in charge of 20K flipping crunchies-to-be. Two brigades instead of just one.