Valor At Vauzlee (28 page)

Jenetta grinned again and depressed the face of her Space Command ring, then said, "Commander Rodriquez."

"Rodriquez here, Captain," she heard an exasperated voice say a couple of seconds later.

"Commander, if the laundry is full I would think that you could find a better place to store the dirty laundry than my quarters, or that of the other officers on A Deck."

Although Jenetta had tried to make it sound light, Rodriquez apparently wasn't in the mood for levity.

"I'm sorry, Captain. As a matter of fact the Laundry is completely empty and the cleaning machines are sitting idle. I believe that the problem lies with the Laundry Module in the computer system. It looks like someone has been tampering with it. All of the records are messed up, and code has been overwritten. All the clean clothes in the Laundry at the start of the first watch were delivered to the wrong quarters. Then the bots began removing clean clothes from the quarters of various crewmembers and redistributing them to other quarters. Soiled clothes were never brought to the laundry."

"Are you saying that by tomorrow morning we're all going to be naked?"

"Well," Rodriquez said quietly, "everyone still has the clothes they're wearing now."

"I'm wearing sweats. I just came back from the gym."

"Don't worry, Captain. We'll find
your
clothes."

"That's comforting. Do you think our saboteur is behind this?"

"It would seem that way, ma'am. I can't imagine anyone else hacking into the laundry system and changing the code."

"At least it's a bit less harmful than his last effort. Keep your people on it, Commander. We can't have the routine of this entire ship upset because our people don't have clean clothes to wear."

"Aye, Captain," Rodriquez said.

"Carver out."

Jenetta stood looking at the mountains of clothes in her sitting room for several more seconds, then said, "Woodrow, I'll be in my briefing room until this matter is— sorted out."

"Aye, Captain," he said.

~ May 13
^th
, 2268 ~

"Sir," the Prometheus' astrogator said to Gavin, "Higgins has acknowledged our imminent arrival and issued a straight in approach clearance, sir. They're announcing that all normal approach regulations have been suspended for SC warships returning to the station.

"Understood, Lieutenant," Gavin said from his command chair on the bridge,

"Uh, sir?"

"Yes, Lieutenant?"

"They're routing us directly to the docking ring."

"The docking ring? That can't be. Confirm that approach directive."

"I have, sir. They're directing us to dock at Kilo-Two. Chiron is being directed to dock at Lima-Two."

"Com," Gavin said, "Verbally confirm docking instructions."

"Aye, Captain," the com officer said. A few seconds later he said, "Docking instructions verbally confirmed, sir. We're to proceed directly to the Kilo-Two docking pier."

"What the devil…" Gavin muttered under his breath. "Astrogation, time to Higgins?"

"Our ETA is eighteen-minutes six-seconds."

"Very well," Gavin said curtly, then sat back in his chair and stared at the front viewscreen. They were still much too far from Higgins to see the space station, or even the planet Vinnia that it circled in geosynchronous orbit. Currently traveling at Light-375, they couldn't even see the miniscule pinprick of light reflected by the planet. With the approach speed limits set aside, they would come in as hot as they dare, then drop their envelope at the inner-pattern marker, just ten thousand kilometers from the station, instead of at the normal fifty-billion kilometer point. At that point they'd engage sub-light engines and travel the rest of the way at one-hundred kps, the normal inner-pattern speed.

"New message from Higgins, Captain," the com officer said a few minutes later. "There are two hundred crewmen waiting to board when we dock. They've appended a roster."

"Forward a copy to my holo-tube, Lieutenant," the Captain said."

"Aye, sir."

Gavin lifted the holo-tube from its storage pocket on the side of his chair and depressed the recessed activation switch. A visual image immediately leapt upward from the device. As he scrolled through the names, checking ranks and assignments, he saw that more than half were gunnery teams. The others were engineers, medical personnel, and support crew. "That explains the docking," he muttered as he deactivated the device and slipped it back into its storage holster. "Com, forward a copy of that list to the docking bay officer. Direct him to bring adequate help to verify the identities and orders of all new personnel as they board. Also send a copy to the housing officer."

"Aye, Captain."

"Preparing to drop envelope, sir," the helmsman said.

"Acknowledged."

As the enormous ship came to a stop at the leading edge of the inner-pattern, and then began to move forward in n space, picking up speed rapidly, the image on the front viewscreen rippled slightly for a fraction of a second and then stabilized. It was an indication that the ship's astrogation computer had switched over to mainly optical sensors. While traveling faster than the speed of light, the image on the viewscreen was, perforce, a non-optical representation prepared from digitized sensor data. Deployed in positions roughly a thousand km from the station, none of the five ships representing the station protection fleet presented any obstacle to the Prometheus or Chiron. Ordnance and fuel barges were standing by near the assigned airlock piers, waiting for the two massive ships to moor so they could move in and begin their re-supply efforts.

As the helmsman completed the dock and lock fifteen minutes later, Gavin jumped from his chair and hurried down to the forward cargo bay. The great airlock doors in the bay were still sliding back as he leapt through the opening, startling the Higgins dockmaster. Gavin hopped into the first parked driverless vehicle he encountered without asking to whom it was assigned, and ordered it to take him to the headquarters section of the base. As it began moving through the docking ring, Gavin ordered it to exceed the limits imposed by its speed governor, using his authority as a senior SC officer to override the normal safe speed limit.

"I must see Admiral Holt immediately," Gavin said to the senior aide as he entered the Admiral's outer office.

The aide verbally repeated the request to the com unit on his desk. A second later the com unit beeped as a message from the admiral appeared on his screen. "You may go in, Captain Gavin," the aide said.

The double doors to the Admiral's office slid open noiselessly as Gavin strode quickly down the short corridor. Admiral Holt was on his feet and walking briskly towards the doors as Gavin entered the office. Gavin's first impression was that the Admiral hadn't slept a wink in days. His face was haggard and drawn. Dark shadows underscored his eyes.

"Larry," the Admiral said, presenting a warm and genuine smile as he extended his hand, "thank providence you're here. You don't know how relieved I am that you've arrived before the Raiders. With Prometheus and Chiron bolstering our forces, perhaps we'll have a chance now."

Pumping the proffered hand, Gavin said, "Any sign of the Raider attackers, Admiral?"

"No, none. Not a peep from any of the sensors on the Distant DeTect grid."

"Let's hope it remains that way for another ten days. By then the Song and the four destroyers should be here. Have you assembled a senior staff to take command of the Song when she arrives?"

"I've prepared a list of officers. They won't actually assemble until the ship nears the station."

"Who will the Commanding Officer be?"

"Commander Harlan Acklee, of the Calgary. He's senior man on the Promotion Selection Board's list for Captain in this deca-sector. He understands that the position isn't permanent, and that he'll just be captain for the duration of the crisis, and then return to his ship."

Gavin sighed lightly. "Acklee. I've met him. He appears competent enough— but he's a bit of a stiff."

"Yes, he's a little too rigid and formal at times, and doesn't seem to have much of a sense of humor, but Hoyt says that he's a good officer."

"Has he seen any action?"

"Unfortunately, no. Oh, he's been involved in some light interdiction activity, but it's all been strictly third-rate, amateur smuggler stuff. He's never come under fire."

Gavin scowled. "That's too bad. It would be nice to know how he'll bear up."

"Captains with battle experience are in very short supply. The Raiders have done a good job of avoiding contact with our warships in the past."

"I'm sure this is an all or nothing situation with the Raiders. They're going to be tough, and I expect them to throw everything they've got at us. We can't afford to have a new captain crack under the strain of battle." Looking away, as if in deep thought, Gavin said, "I don't suppose…"

After a few seconds of silence, Admiral Holt said, "Suppose what, Larry?"

Snapped out of his reverie, Gavin said, "I was trying to think of a way that we might leave Commander Carver in command of the Song until the battle is over. As much as I'd love to have her back aboard the Prometheus in case something happens to me, I'd rather have a battle seasoned officer commanding on the bridge of the Song. When it comes to a fight, she's as rock steady and cool as they come. Following the battle at Vauzlee I reviewed the bridge logs before I submitted my reports to SHQ. I was a little too preoccupied during the battle to notice her comportment, but in my review I discovered firsthand why the Vordoth crew nicknamed her the Ice Queen. Admiral, you wouldn't believe it. She just sat there in the first officer's chair on the bridge, calm as could be, glancing up at the monitor occasionally and sipping her coffee. It was as if she didn't have a care in the world. You'd have thought that we were running a simulation rather than being in a life or death struggle."

Admiral Holt chuckled. "I seem to recall a certain captain arguing with me recently, rather strenuously I might add, when informed that she was to be his acting first officer for the trip to Earth."

Gavin reddened slightly. "Okay, sir, I'm a big enough man to admit that I was wrong. Your assessment of her was completely accurate. If anything, she's even better than you stated."

"Well, I had an opportunity to review all the Intelligence interviews with the people she rescued and the crewmembers of the Vordoth. I saw the kind of loyalty she inspired in people that came under her command and protection. The statements from all the witnesses verified her accounts of the actions with the Raiders and her escape from the Raider Base. Never once did she try to embellish the account to make herself look better. If anything, she's too modest about her part in everything that happened, crediting much of it to luck. I sincerely wish that I
could
leave her in command of the Song, Larry. And not just for the battle, but permanently. It's not up to me though. You know that COAC has sole responsibility for assigning commanding officers to ships. Only the Admiralty Board can override their appointments, and they've already acknowledged that Commander Carver will surrender command to a more seasoned officer as soon as the ship arrives here."

"That's just the point, Admiral. Commander Carver is the most seasoned combat officer we have in the entire
service
."

"I meant seasoned as in years of
command
experience, not combat experience."

"Well— at least I'll get her back," Gavin said, then looked to the Admiral apprehensively. "I will be getting her back, won't I?"

"Of course, you will. It's where she wants to be more than anything. I'd love to have her here, in command of my planning staff, but she wouldn't like it. She's a line officer through and through. She wants— no, she
needs
to be on a warship. She won't be happy anywhere else."

"Has the War College come up with any new plans for the defense of the base?"

"No, they insist that every simulation they've run shows that Station Defense Plan Echo-Three provides the best overall defensive posture. Once the Raiders move in, they recommend Foxtrot-Five, followed by Bravo-Two."

"But the Raiders must have a copy of the manual. They're probably familiar with every established battle plan in it."

"Probably."

"Damn," Gavin said, "they'll be able to predict every move before we make it, and they'll have prepared a counter for each tactic. I wish Carver was here now. I'd love to hear her suggestions for the defense of this base. Her prediction of the Raider attack plan at Vauzlee was one hundred percent accurate. I bet there are a lot of noses severely out of joint at the War College."

"So I read in your report. You really think that her input would be that valuable?"

"Absolutely," Gavin said. "She displayed a level of insight that would make you believe she sat in on the Raider battle briefings, and then developed a unique battle plan that proved to be the perfect response. I think we could use some of that uniqueness here; something that the Raiders
won't
be expecting."

"Okay. There's still time, I suppose. Send her an encrypted message. Give her all the particulars and ask her for any suggestions she might have."