Battlecruiser Alamo: Take and Hold Page 2

   Shaking his head, he replied, “I’ve been assigned him, and for the moment, I’m stuck with him. With any luck, I’ll get more out of him than he will out of me, though doubtless he’s been briefed on my background. No, what I want you to do is to stay off his radar.”

   “What do you mean?” she replied with a growing frown.

   “You have a tendency to be something of an agent of chaos, and while I’ve always found that valuable and will doubtless continue to do so, I need you to keep your head down for a while. Don’t do anything to attract attention to yourself. He’ll be focusing on me and Ryder, at a guess. You might slip out of sight, especially as I’m going to be grabbing a few others for Alamo.”

   With a sigh, she said, “Keep a low profile, and have no fun.”

   “I need you to be my ace in the hole, Kristin. When everything starts to go to hell, as I am quite sure it will, you’ve got to be in position to do whatever needs to be done.”

   After a pause, she said, “I’ll agree on one condition.”

   “Which is?”

   She gestured down the corridor and said, “It occurs to me that you might be doing this because of what just happened to Melissa. I want your word that you will not keep me out of the game because you think that you might be putting me in risk.”

   “Kristin…”

   “Damn it, Logan, I want your promise, or I swear that man will see my name spelled out in bright lights on all of his monitors whenever he’s trying to sleep.”

   “Fine,” he replied. “If that’s the way you want it.” She nodded, and started to push off down the corridor. “And thank you.”

   “Any time,” she said. “Now, what the hell are we going to do about this mess?”

  Chapter 2

   Marshall raised his glass, shouting to cut through the crowd, and said, “To the bride and groom!” The response was an instant cacophony of cheers, the sound of plastic cracking against plastic, and a few half-drunken responses he couldn’t make out in the crowd. Cooper and Bradley were at the top table, looking down on the crowd below as if they could hardly believe the turn-out; Logan had managed to arrange for them to occupy Lilith’s, Spitfire’s popular bar, for the night, and somehow had got Cooper’s uncle out here with Bradley’s parents in time for the ceremony.

   He looked around the room, happiness tinged with sadness as he realized he might never see some of these faces again. Caine at least was staying with him, promoted to Senior Lieutenant and assigned at his insistence as his aide; Tramiel, who was benignly sitting in a far corner nursing an exotic-looking cocktail hadn’t needed much convincing. Quinn was at the bar, talking shop with some of the Spitfire engineers he didn’t recognize, and Steele was over in the corner, holding court with the other watch officers.

   “Centicred for your thoughts?” Cunningham said, drifting over to him with two glasses in his hand. “I thought you might want a top-up.”

   “That’s the sort of thinking I admire in an Exec,” Marshall replied. “Are you taking Alamo home?”

   Shaking his head, he replied, “Haven’t you heard? I’m going out with you, back on Wyvern again. Just as I thought I’d managed to get off those floating tin-cans.”

   “Wait a minute. I thought that was just temporary for the shakedown cruise. You aren’t telling me that one of those little things is a Lieutenant-Captain’s posting now?”

   “No, but three of them are. I’m commanding one of the scoutship squadrons on this little expedition of ours. They’ve rushed Griffon out of the shipyard, haven’t even finished its shakedown cruise yet.” He shook his head again, and said, “Have you looked around some of this ships in this fleet? Wright was half-way through quadrennial refit when they brought her out.”

   “I guess the Commodore – I mean, the Admiral, was serious about getting everything he could get out here for the party. I don’t mind having superior firepower for once, though, do you? Besides, I don’t really think that the Cabal is going to give us any real trouble.”

   “I just hope you are right,” he replied, looking down at his watch. “We ought to be getting on our way soon. Where are you hanging your hat?”

   “I’m on Gilgamesh,” he replied. “What do you mean, soon?”

   “You don’t know? Tramiel ordered our departure time moved up. We’re heading out at 0200 Zulu. The astrogators are in conference right now.”

   Marshall looked up at the couple, still celebrating their wedding, “Does Cooper know yet?”

   “I saw someone with braid go up there half-an-hour ago, and there was a short argument afterwards. I still don’t know why the hell he volunteered to go.”

   “The same reason that the rest of Alamo’s Espatier contingent did. And they didn’t volunteer, demand was closer to the mark. They’ve got unfinished business out there. I don’t think Brownworth asked twice; the more experienced people they’ve got in the strike force the better.”

   “Still, taking him away on the day of his wedding…”

   “That’s what wearing the uniform means, sometimes. The Fleet will make it up to them when this mission’s over. We’re only going to be out for a couple of months.”

   Orlova drifted in through the door, looking around and spotting Marshall; he waved to her and she moved over to the two of them, Cunningham passing her his drink.

   “Where did you go after the ceremony?” Cunningham asked. “I was looking out for you.”

   “I’m shipping out in half an hour; I had to make sure that everything I needed was off Alamo. Kibaki’s going to see to the rest of it for me, I’m out of time.”

   “I thought you were going back on Alamo?” Marshall said.

   She smiled, and said, “Apparently Staff College can’t wait. I’m going back on a civilian transport, first class, believe it or not.” She gestured up at the top table, and said, “Cooper’s uncle’s arranged it with a friend of his. That’s why I’m here…”

   “Maggie, you don’t have to say a word. I’m doing this for the good of the service. If you’re going to have a ship of your own someday, it’s an important step up.”

   Her smile widening, she said, “I still want to thank you, Captain. For everything over these last three years. If it hadn't been for you I’d probably still be smuggling gray market rubbish from Mars to Mariner, assuming someone hadn’t caught me and thrown me in jail. I never dreamed that anything like this was possible.”

   “It’s been a hell of a tour, Maggie,” Marshall replied. “It’s been an absolute privilege to have you on my ship. We wouldn’t have made it home without you.”

   Cunningham said, “Do you remember what we talked about, back at Desdemona? That you said you wanted to be in the service because there would be a time when you would make a difference.” He smiled, then said, “I think Hercules was what you were talking about. That was a hell of a battle.”

   Her face dropped, and she said, “I lost my ship.”

   “But by God, she died well.” Raising his glass, he said, “To the ships we’ve loved and lost.” The three of them touched glasses, and each took a small sip.

   Looking at the door, Orlova said, “I’d better get going. I don’t want to miss my ship. I just wanted to drop in and…well…”

   “Me too, Maggie. I’ll see you when I get back to Mars.”

   “It’s a date, sir.” Glancing up, she said, “I’d better go up and speak to the happy couple.”

   Marshall looked up at her, then turned back to Cunningham and said, “It really was a damn good crew, John. I still don’t understand why you aren’t being given the command.”

   Frowning, he replied, “Neither do I. Tramiel had told me it was in the pipe, but last night I got the word that I was getting a squadron command instead.” He shook his head, and said, “I’ve never commanded more than one ship before in combat. Unless you count fighters, but I don’t think that’s the same thing at all.”
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br />    “Maybe someone’s grooming you for higher things. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you are coming with us, but I still think it’s crazy not to give you Alamo. You’d be an obvious choice.”

   “Technically, I suppose Logan has seniority of rank, but unless I’ve missed something, he’s never commanded a starship in his life. I don’t think he’s even bridge-certified.” He shook his head, and said, “I know it’s an easy ride home, but I still think it’s a bit of a risk to give it to him. And what if it turns out to be permanent?”

   “It won’t be,” Marshall replied.”

   “You know something I don’t?”

   “My guess is that this is a creative way of getting him back to Mars for debriefing. He sits in as commander of Alamo until they get to dry dock, one easy jump, and then the real commander sits in. Or one of the senior officers on board…”

   “Are there any left?”

   “Don’t tell him, but I’ve put Quinn in for a promotion to Senior Lieutenant.”

   “Quinn commanding Alamo?”

   “He’s probably the best qualified to see her through a refit.” He tapped a datapad, and said, “Alamo’s destined for six months in dry dock. No urgent need to pick a commander.”

   “Still, they’ve got to get home yet.”

   “Relax. Rank notwithstanding, there are half a dozen people on that ship who could get her home. Quinn, Ryder, Race, Kibaki, Steele...I wouldn’t necessarily throw any of them into the firing line, but it’s one jump between two safe ports.”

   “At least it won’t be Zebrova,” Cunningham replied. “I still think it was a bit cruel to send her off on the Buchanan. We’re going out again, and she’ll be spending the next six months going from one sub-committee to the next.”

   “Someone has to do it, and Executive Officers are there to do the boring stuff, aren’t they?”

   The two of them laughed, and were caught by surprise when Marshall was tapped on the shoulder by a gray-haired, stocky man wearing Counter-Admiral insignia on his flight jacket. They turned and snapped a salute, which he waved away with a laugh.

   “I hope the two of you are harder to surprise in battle,” he said with a smile. “I thought I might as well introduce myself here rather than more formally, later; Bill Pierce.” He looked at Cunningham, and said, “We’ve met, anyway.”

   Cunningham looked back with disbelief, and said, “I thought you’d retired? Last I heard you were running a civilian training school.”

   “Stayed in the reserves, though, and I’ve been nagging Jack Tramiel about getting something to do for months. This sounds like a party worth going to, and I guess the two of you agree.” He looked at Marshall, and said, “Youngest wing commander in the war, and the youngest capital ship commander since then. Are you that good?”

   “I have my moments.”

   Clapping him on the shoulder, he said, “I’ve read your mission logs. Can’t wait for the movie to come out. Of course, we still have to put together the last act first. We won’t have time for a staff briefing until we hit Discovery, so I thought I’d grab the two of you for a chat before we head out. Besides, this is a damn sight more comfortable than a briefing room, and the refreshments are better.”

   “Have you ever run into Lieutenant-Captain Winter? I think the two of you would get on.”

   “Logan? Where do you think I’ve been the last couple of hours. He’s got a surprisingly impressive collection of liquor for an officer of his rank. I thought about making some inquiries about it, but decided it made more sense to drink the evidence instead.”

   Marshall chuckled, and said, “What’s the drill then, sir?”

   “Well, I don’t need a deputy commander for the task force, not someone who’s going to hang over my shoulder waiting for me to die of a heart attack, anyway, so I thought I’d find something useful to do. I’m breaking our formation into three parts. The carrier will be taking the Espatiers into battle, so I might as well take that one.” He smiled, and said, “It’ll be good to be back on a flight deck again, anyway. I haven’t stood on a command deck since the war.”

   “I guess that’s why you flagged me for the scouts, then,” Cunningham said.

   “I’ll be honest, John, I don’t have a damn clue how I’m going to use them in the line of battle, so I want them out on picket. They’ll jump a day ahead of the rest of the fleet and see what’s going on out there. I don’t like exposing them like that, but I don’t know what else I can do with them. At least this way we should get some decent tactical information, and it might throw them off. You get any better ideas, let me know. Odds are I’ll take them.”

   “What about me, then, sir?” Marshall asked.

   “We’ve got two battlecruisers, and again, that’s something I haven’t got any experience with. I flew fighters and carriers during the war, so I’m sticking with what I know. Gilgamesh and Thermopylae are yours; you get our battlecruiser contingent. Nothing so interesting for you, though, I want you to hang in to protect the capital ships in the event we run into any heavy stuff.”

   “Two battlecruisers isn’t much to defend us if the Cabal attack in force,” Cunningham said.

   Looking at Marshall, Pierce replied, “That’s why I’m bringing this boy with me. Last time he commanded two capital ships, he tore an enemy fleet to pieces and spat out the remains. I’ll be quite satisfied with a repeat of that performance.”

   “We lost a ship that day, Admiral,” Marshall said, a frown beginning to spread across his face.

   “Can’t make an omelette without breaking eggs, Captain. Though if you can bring both of the ships I’m giving you back in one piece, I’ll be happy.”

   “Am I getting any fighters?”

   “Yes and no,” Pierce replied. “One flight on each battlecruiser, but the fleet CAG will be commanding the lot. Makes a damn sight more sense to preserve tactical co-ordination, and I’ve got two squadrons on the Trident. ” Raising a hand, he said, “Though if you need them for something, all you have to do is ask, and I will unleash the fires of hell for you. You’ll have to give a couple of Espatier platoons a ride, as well; I’m stuffing as many of them as I can fit into our fleet.” He smiled, looking at the two of them, and said, “Relax. This is going to be fun. I’m going over to see Jack. Catch you in the black.”

   Marshall looked at the Admiral as he drifted off through the crowd, and said, “Is he like that in battle?”

   “He was my wing commander when I first signed up, right at the start of the war,” Cunningham replied. “Second man to make Ace on our side, and by God was he annoyed about that when the news came through.”

   “So you served under him?”

   “Not for long, they bumped him up to group not long after, then over to his carrier. Where he stayed for the duration. I vaguely remember some sort of epic-scale argument taking place just after the ceasefire, and he found himself in civilian clothes, though I don’t recall the details.”

   “It might be an idea to look them up. What do you think of his strategy?”

   “I think that if we run into any Cabal ships, we’re going to get killed. At least the fleet’s jumping together for the first hop.” He shook his head, and said, “I think I’d better come up with some sort of backup strategy.”

   “I don’t like having fighters and troops on my ships that I can’t control.” He pulled out a datapad, and said, “I think I’m going to be making a quick transfer when we get under way.”

   “Can you do that?”

   “She's an old Alamo hand, and I’ll tell the Admiral…”

   “Ace.”

   Marshall looked up in disbelief, and said, “What?”

   “He likes to be called Ace. Yes, I know, and yes, we all used to laugh about it whenever he wasn’t around, but he takes all that seriously. You realize that’s the real reason that he got us both pegged for critical commands.”

  �
��Shaking his head, he replied, “You have got to be kidding. I shot down those five fighters before I hit twenty-three; that’s no qualification for fleet command.”

   “There aren’t that many of us left around these days. He probably thinks that he’s protecting the brotherhood or something like that; understand, he’s a fighter pilot at heart. I hope he’s got a good fleet captain on the Trident.”

   “Who is it?”

   “Laura Hayes. Never heard of her, and she’s had a mostly admin-based background.”

   “Which could just mean that Tramiel’s been smart and put someone with Ace,” Marshall sighed as he said the nickname, “who knows how to keep the paperwork nice and tidy, so he can concentrate on command.”

   “Or someone pulled a few strings to get their favorite staff officer an important job,” Cunningham replied. “We’ll have to find out which the hard way. Notice that he didn’t mention the auxiliaries once.”

   Marshall nodded, and said, “I’d better have a word with whomever's commanding Hadfield and Popovich. Make sure that they at least know where we’re going.”

   “Don’t you know who’s in command?”

   “I’ve had this job for about twenty-four hours, and I’ve spent most of that dealing with the change of command.” He shook his head, “I just don’t like the idea of Alamo going off without me.”

   “Don’t worry about her. We both know she’s in good hands,” Cunningham said. “We’ve got bigger problems coming up.” He gestured at Pierce, currently making huge gestures with his hands in front of a laughing Tramiel. “We’ve got a fleet commander who specializes in death or glory and leaves the problems of how to make the magic happen to his subordinates.”

   “Which means that I’d better start thinking about how to do just that.” He shook his head, and said, “With just, what, four hours before we’re supposed to head out? I’ve barely had time to move my stuff over.”

   “Relax, Danny,” Cunningham said. “It isn’t as bad as all that. We’re only going out into hostile space to launch the largest combined Espatier assault since the war, with a task force that is barely sufficient to do the job under the command of an officer who struggles to think larger than a squadron, and hasn’t worn the uniform for eight years. How hard can it be?”