Survival is Never Free (The Death Prophecies Book 5) Page 5
“I’ve sent orders to the Wing Commanders to move their pilot’s quarters close to their launchers. Under normal circumstances, they wouldn’t arrive very quickly due to them being in other parts of the ship. But if we’re in enemy territory, they will stay close to their launchers.”
O’Hara thought about it and started nodding, “Thanks, Sir. That helped me see where you’re going.”
Cam nodded, “Sound Battlestations in two and a half hours.”
“I thought you gave them three hours?”
Cam smiled, “Oh well. Before this is over, they are going to really hate me.”
O’Hara shook her head, “As long as they can see their improvement, I don’t think that will happen. Thank you again, Sir.”
Cam looked up, “Doc.”
“Yes.”
“How are the squadrons organized into their launch tubes?”
“Half are located in portside launchers and half in starboard launchers. However, they are all in adjacent tubes.”
I’m ordering a general launch tomorrow. I want every squadron to be launched out of the same side of the ship.”
“That would require two squadrons to alternate quarters under the launchers.”
“So be it. Assign the new tubes to the ships once they’re all out of the ship and tell the squadron commanders to move their units to new quarters once they’re back on board.”
“I’ll set up the changes now. I assume you want the Wings to also be together.”
“I do.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
“Thanks, Doc.”
“I’ve allowed Commodore O’Hara to listen in on this exchange. Are you ok with that?”
“Use your best judgement on what you share, Doc.”
“I will, Admiral.”
• • •
“Amy, the Crystal River and Homosassa have arrived in space dock.”
“Thanks, Steve. I’ll try to wrap up this survey and meet the boys after they finish being debriefed.”
“I’ve been told there’s some friction due to one of John’s Junior Officers being promoted over him.”
Amy rolled her eyes, “It’s to be expected. I’ll handle it.”
“Good luck.”
“Thanks, I’m probably going to have to just tell them to like or lump it. They can be hard-headed.”
“I wonder where they get it.”
“You could have gone all day and kept that to yourself.”
Steve smiled, “I’m just saying.”
“Yeah, yeah; I’ll let you know how it goes.”
• • •
Timmy sat beside John outside Intelligence and sighed, “I hate this waiting.”
“Me, too.”
“John, tell me about that Squadron Commander that was promoted to Rear-Admiral.”
“I’ve tried to figure it out, Tim.”
“Was he one of your best Commanders?”
John shrugged, “He didn’t have the most kills in maneuvers. He was third place in that category.”
“What about the other categories?”
John blew out a loud breath and looked at his brother, “His Squadron was rated number one in time to formation and also rated number one in fewest losses.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed, “He was third in kills and first in fewest losses.” John nodded. “That doesn’t seem right.”
“Why not.”
“In order to be in the top ten in kills, it normally necessitates an aggressive commander. That aggression usually causes higher losses. How was he able to pull that off?”
John looked at Tim for a moment and then shook his head, “I’m not really sure. I did compare his scores to mine when I commanded a squadron and I was number one in kills but in the bottom ten in losses.”
“What do you know about the ship he was given to command?”
“You got the data on it.”
“Yeah, but I was too busy to take a look.”
“It’s close to ten miles long and has forty thousand of the new Attack Fighters.”
“Holy crap! Is it fast?”
“Yes it is, Timmy. It’s as fast as an Essay Class Warship but it is limited in maneuverability.”
“Why is that?”
John shrugged, “The ship’s hull is totally designed to launch fighters. There’s 328 launch tubes and they leave little room for side and vertical thrusters between the bow and rear of the vessel.”
“I wouldn’t want to have to take that ship into a space battle.”
“Why not?”
“If it can do little more than fly in a straight line and it will be a target with a big bull’s eye on it. I suspect that Commander was chosen because of his skills in minimizing losses.”
John stared at the floor and after a moment nodded, “I wonder why they promoted him to Admiral?”
“John, with forty thousand Attack Fighters, he has four full wings on his ship commanded by Commodores. Our wings are half the size of a full wing and are commanded by Wing Commanders. With four Commodores, he’d have to be an Admiral to command them.” John nodded absently and Tim put his hand on his shoulder, “Would you prefer to park your ship and launch fighters to taking your warship into direct battle with enemy forces?”
John looked at Tim, “I think you know the answer to that.”
“I suspect if you asked your former Squadron Commander what his preference was, he’d pick that ship. You know fleet doesn’t mess up very often and I feel pretty sure this decision was given a great deal of thought and analysis before he was selected.”
“Mom had to play a role in that selection.”
“You know she did and I know that if either of us were a better candidate, she would have chosen us. That tells me the right thing was done. We’ll have our time for promotion when the timing is right.”
The corner of John’s mouth went up slightly, “I suspect you’ll be promoted before me.”
Tim laughed out loud, “As I should be.” John punched him on the arm as the door opened and a Lieutenant looked out and said, “The Admiral will see you now.”
They stood up and Tim leaned over and whispered, “Just be thankful you’re not commanding intelligence. Ugh, I’d never adapt to being stuck in an office all day.”
“Tell me about it.”
“As they walked through the door John smiled and asked, “If we get some free time, do you want to go see the Manatees?”
“Absolutely; however, I’ll need to pick up Jenny and bring her with me.”
John shook his head, “Love! How do you live with it?”
“It’s about time you found out, Brother.”
“Just shoot me, instead.” Tim laughed as they took chairs in front of Admiral Chambliss and his staff.
• • •
Amy shook her head in frustration, finding the right people to take command of the four Prophet Class Warships that were coming on line in six months was proving to be impossible. She looked at her monitor and said, “Run the profiles again.”
A Personnel Captain appeared on her monitor and Amy said, “Yes, Captain.”
“Sir, we’ve received a transfer request from Captain John Hart’s ship and we felt we should bring it to your attention.”
“Why is that?”
“Captain Hart is in debriefing and unavailable to approve or disapprove the request.”
Amy’s eyes narrowed, this request must be something out of the ordinary, “Tell me about the transfer application.”
“Captain Alexandra Bell has requested to be transferred to Admiral Holiday’s vessel.”
“What are her ratings?”
“She’s currently ranked in the top four Squadron Officers on the Crystal River.”
Amy’s head tilted slightly, “I want her profile run through the computer to evaluate her temperament.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Get back to me the moment that’s completed,”
“Yes, Sir.”
Amy sat back
in her chair. Why would this successful officer want to transfer to Holiday’s ship? Ummmmm…she must have some sort of relationship with Holiday. They were the same rank on the Crystal River and commanded different units so it wouldn’t be against Fleet Protocols for them to be an item. She looked at her terminal, “Computer, what command positions are open on Admiral Holiday’s vessel?”
“He dismissed one Commodore and sent him to Personnel for reassignment.”
“Has that position been filled?”
“Personnel is currently looking for a qualified officer to fill the vacancy.”
“Don’t fill that position until I authorize it.”
“I’ll notify Personnel.”
Amy sat back in her chair. She needed three officers that had the right temperament to command the new Prophet Class Warships. Perhaps the current Ship Commander serving under Holiday might be ready once she has the opportunity to work with Holiday. Could this transferee be another?
An hour later, her communicator pinged and she pressed the connect button. She saw a Personnel Captain on the display, “Admiral, we’ve run Squadron Commander Alexandra Bell’s profile against the traits required for command of the Prophet Class Warship and the results are inconclusive.”
“Connect me with the computer that ran the evaluation.”
The Captain looked down and pressed a button connecting Amy directly to the Personnel Computer. He disappeared from her monitor and she said, “I need an explanation why your evaluation of Alexandra Bell was inconclusive.”
“Her aggressive traits and strategic planning traits canceled each other out. I am unable to make the call.”
Amy stared at the monitor and said, “How do her maneuver scores compare to Admiral Holiday’s?”
“Both of them were in the top five in kills and both of them are in the top five in fewest losses.”
“What was their rank in fewest losses?”
“Admiral Holiday was ranked number one and Commander Bell was ranked number three.”
“And their kill rankings?”
“Admiral Holiday was number three and Commander Bell was number two.”
Amy smiled realizing Alexandra was slightly more aggressive than Holiday. “Have you completed the attack simulator for the using the carriers against the Black Ships?”
There was a slight pause and the computer said, “I have, Sir.”
“Notify Admiral Holiday that I want all of his Commodores as well as his Ship’s Captain to report to Personnel immediately where I want them run through the simulator. I want an evaluation of them as soon as they complete it.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
• • •
Lila O’Hara shook her head. Cam had allowed her to command the ship in an exercise where ten Essay Class Warships were designated as attackers. She had been successful in that six of the attackers were electronically hit enough that they were designated destroyed, but the remaining four had rushed in and launched a combined attack and the giant warship she commanded was judged to be out of action. She sat in her chair shaking her head and Cam walked up and smiled, “Tell me what you’d do differently if you had to do it over.”
“I couldn’t get the ship out of their crossfire.” Cam smiled and nodded. Lila thought about it for a minute as Cam waited in silence. Lila sighed and looked at Cam, “I weakened our defenses by moving the ship into the attackers.”
Cam smiled, “Tell me what you took away from our defense.”
“The entire rear blasters on the port and starboard sides. If I had stopped the ship and waited for the attackers to come to us, I would have had double the number of defenses to use against them.”
“You would also have the mini-blasters to use against the missiles. They’re fifty percent more accurate if the ship is not moving.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Learn from this, Commodore. With our defensive capabilities, it is often better to let the enemy come to you. Is there anything else you could have done?”
“Kept enough fighters around us for defense instead of sending them out to attack the enemy.”
Cam nodded, “You’re getting it, Commodore. I suspect the next time the results will be different.”
“Sir, I have an order from the Admiralty that all of our senior officers are to report to personnel immediately to take a test.”
“Who issued the order?”
“Admiral Hart under Fleet Admiral Connor’s authorization.”
Cam sighed, “Notify the Warships that we’ve been called to port. We’ll do this again another time.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Commodore, take us to the Ghost Colony.”
“Sir, I’ve just received another order for you to take the test along with the other officers.”
Lila looked at Cam and smiled. Cam saw her enjoyment, “Don’t rub it in.”
Lila’s smile disappeared, “I won’t, Sir.” Cam turned away and Lila’s smile reappeared.
• • •
Amy looked up and saw Steve enter her office, “How’s it going?”
Amy shook her head, “Not very well. Finding Commanders for the new warship is like finding a white grain of sand on the beach.”
“Amy, they’re all white granules.”
“Did I mention that the one I’m searching for has a gold interior?” Steve smiled, “I know there has to be something that I’m missing.”
“The Personnel Computer hasn’t turned up anything either.”
“I know, Sir, but I just feel there has to be a measure we’re missing that would open the door to finding the right officers.”
Amy’s panel pinged and she pressed the connect button, “Go ahead.”
“Sir, the simulator results are in.”
“And?”
“Admiral Holiday was ranked number one. Commodore Lila O’Hara and Alexandra Bell were tied for second.”
“What about the Wing Commodores?”
“They failed. Their aggressive traits overwhelmed their strategic planning skills.”
Amy thought for a moment and said, “Tell me what you mean by strategic planning skills?”
“Strategic Planning Skills are the ability to develop a plan that would enhance success.”
“How do you measure success?”
“By having the minimum loss of vessels.”
Amy’s smile was instant and Steve said, “What?”
“Computer, I want you to go through all of our sailors maneuver ranking and pull a list of the pilots that are ranked number one in fewest losses. I want that correlated with their number of kills and I want the officers with the best balance of those two criteria. Once you have the officers that meet those requirement, I want you to run them through your analysis of their temperament.”
“Working.”
“What have you discovered?”
Amy was visibly excited, “Admiral Holiday told us what we needed to find the right officers to command the new warship.” Steve’s eyes narrowed and he looked blank. “He told us that he expects the worse, plans to avoid it, and hopes for the best. That’s why he was ranked with having the fewest losses on the Crystal River’s rankings. He was third in kills so we’re looking for an officer that has low losses and high kills. I suspect we’ll find those we need to command the Prophet Class Warships among those that meet those criteria.”
Steve nodded, “You don’t want an officer that doesn’t have an aggressive trait. However, you do want one that makes decisions to hold down losses.”
“Exactly. I’ve also found two of the officers that I need to command two of the four Prophet Class Warships coming online in six months.”
Steve smiled, “Keep up the good work, Amy.”
Amy smiled and felt her wrist unit vibrate, she saw John appear on the small display. She blew out a breath and shook her head as she pressed the connect button.
Chapter Four
“Controller, the Families coming to join us have reported detecting some of the Small
Beings Warships near their location.”
The Controller closed his eyes and stood up from his command chair, “Notify all ships to go to active stations and get their scouts out to give us an early warning if the enemy forces start moving toward our gathering. I want all the main ships to move into an overlapping formation so that they can fire their weapons in a crossfire at any attackers.”
“Yes, Controller.”
The Controller’s Ship Administrator looked at him, “It’s good that you’ve sent the tankers out to refuel the incoming families.”
“I want ten of the Main Ships to escort them out to the incoming gatherings.”
“Do you think the Small Beings will attack our tankers that far out?”
“I’m not taking the chance. I will not underestimate them again. I want those vessels moving immediately.” The Controller sat down in his chair and stared at the giant display directly in front of him. He looked to the left and saw another display showing the three lines of giant defense globes just outside of the Small Being’s Galaxy. It had taken too long for the Families to arrive and the enemy had built up a massive defense against them.
He still had no idea of what awaited them inside that galaxy, none of his scouts had managed to make it past the outer edge to see. He thought about moving the Gathering over the top of the galaxy to avoid the defenses but learned that those giant globes could move faster than his main warships. There was no avoiding them and dividing his forces was not something he was going to chance. The last two families were arriving just in time; the galaxy his Family conquered was running low on resources. He looked across the mile long bridge and knew that it wouldn’t be long before he’d know if his plans were going to be successful. He just wished he knew what forces the enemy had waiting for him inside that galaxy.
He lifted his long left red arm and pushed a button six feet over his head. His black eyes looked at the main wall monitor again and he sent a thought to the Ship Administrator, “I want the Drones ready to launch their warships on my order.”
“Yes, Controller.”
He knew the blue colored Drones were going to die in numbers too large to count but that was their lot in life; they were the working class of the Azura Species. It was the red colored males and orange colored females that would make the difference: they were the Royal Class. The Drones weren’t telepathic like their masters. They were hatched without the antennae that would allow them to send their thoughts. They could, however, hear the mental instructions from their masters, even if they couldn’t respond back to those issuing the orders. He had issued orders that the Drones would ram the defenders if the opportunity arose. There was an undercurrent of anger among the drones but they could do nothing about it; the Masters could kill them with a single thought. He clicked his mandibles and settled back into his chair. He would direct the coming fight; it was his Family that found the galaxy. He hoped he had done the right thing calling in the others, six of their Controllers were senior to his status but the covenants were clear, whoever found a galaxy was in command. He hoped he wasn’t killed for failure like his predecessor.