Citation Series 1: Naero's War: The Annexation War (10 page)

Naero rested a hand on
Ty’s shoulder. “I’ll leave it all up to you, Ty. I’ll have the fixers send you crates of our favorite blades–all different sizes. You make them throck. Then we’ll have some more practice sessions, before we make them available to our people.”

Tyber rubbed his hands together in anticipation
.

“These devices are going to be incredible, hi-tek additions to our arsenals
.”

“Great,
” Naero said. “Once we have them perfected, we can share them with Intel and the Alliance.”

Ty
grinned from ear-to-ear. “Then you guys can strip, and we’ll give that tandem sex thing a go.”

N
ow Naero’s jaw dropped. She caught it in both hands and covered her mouth.

Zhen turned red as roses and pounced on
Ty.

“Ow! Kidding, I was kidding. Stop hitting me!
”

Naero chuckled
.

And here
Z said she wasn’t a brawler.

12

Fighter squadron
commanders Saemar and Chaela Maeris came to Naero formally, with strong, conflicting opinions on how Alliance starfighter doctrine could be standardized.

Normally, Chaela and Saemar were the best of friends and got along very well.
Like her other close friends, Naero had grown up with these two.

Yet
this matter had greatly strained the pair’s personal and professional relationships. Zhen confided in Naero secretly–that it had even nearly come to blows.

Fortunately, Saemar
was telepathic, she read Chae’s mind, and cleverly avoided Chaela’s frustrated swings directed at her. That allowed their Viking companion to finally calm down, and submit to their fleet captain’s final authority to decide the matter.

They sat
grim on either side of the nanotable, with Naero on the end in between them.

Naero studied both of their
rival proposals, and the training procedures and battle simulations they included with them.

At first she resisted the urge to smile
.

Her two friends were both so adamant, and bullheaded, tha
t neither of them could see it: The obvious solution.

Chaela was so nervous that she fidgeted in her seat and couldn’t remain silent any longer
.

“So which is it,
N? Just tell us straight on. Which one of us is right?”

Naero rose up and turned away from them both, folding her hands together behind her
slender waist and pacing slightly.

“Commander
Saemar, your methods are…how can I say this...mercurial. Your training methods and combat tactics are unorthodox, instinctive, adaptive, cunning, tricky, and unpredictable. Frankly, they defy logic and still manage to give Triax fits. You and your pilots routinely outfly, and outfight the best that the enemy can throw against us. Your units have the highest survival rates in the Alliance. Congratulations. You are to be commended. I will forward your proposal to the Alliance Leadership, forthwith.”

Chaela maintained her composure and
looked down at the conference table, her lips forming a single, thin line. She was clearly disappointed.

“Commander
Chaela. Your approach to starfighter training and tactics could not be more different. Your methods are highly disciplined, skilled, relentless, precise and accurate. You and your pilots regularly defeat enemy formations three and four times your size, and have the highest kill ratios in the Alliance. Congratulations. You are also to be commended. I will also forward your proposal to the Alliance Leadership, immediately.”

Saemar and Chae blinked at each other
.

Both of them looked confused
.

Chaela curled her lip up. “You...you’re sending them both on
?”

Naero nodded
.

Saemar shrugged. “Sounds good ta me
.”

“Can you do that?” Chae asked
.

Naero turned away from her console
.

“I just did
, and why not? My parents always taught me that there was more than one way to fight, more than one way to learn how to do something. Different styles can work equally well for different people, of different mindsets. Both of you are very different people–different attitudes and styles. But both of you are also superb pilots, and excellent leaders. And I wouldn’t just say that if it wasn’t true, whether we were friends or not.”

“So it doesn’t have to be one way or the other,” Chae said flatly. Realizing it fully herself, perhaps for the first time
.

Saemar most likely didn’t even care, either way
.

Naero grinned at them both. “No...it doesn’t. Your two styles of accomplishing the same goals could not be more different. And that’s why
they both have equal value. Some pilots will respond better to one method. Others to just the opposite–two sides of one coin. I’m always for what works. Both of these methods work just fine. Each of you and your pilots, have proven that. And all of you should take pride in that.”

Her friends tried to salute her
.

Naero hugged them both
in turn.

“We are more than friends, more than comrades. As you have always been, you are my family, my blood. You are my sisters. And nothing can be closer or better than that. When I say how proud I am of you both and all of your valor and hard work
—you know damn well that I mean it.”

Saemar started crying and broke down
.

Even Chae choked up.

*

Naero called a meeting with her command officers on board
The
Hippolyta
.
Forty-two ship captains, minus the eight who had perished during the latest battles.

All of
her captains were headstrong, young fire dragons, much like herself and most of their crews. Fearless, if not a bit reckless. They were excellent fighters, great pilots, and many of them fine young leaders. Their people followed them and served them well, into battle and whatever came their way.

If they and their crew
s drew the short lot and got vaporized…

Such were the fortunes of war
.

Naero spoke once they were
all seated.

“I’ve called you all to this planning mission, because I think we’re still suffering too many casualties
.”

As she expected, several of the young captains like herself blinked and tried to hide their
obvious frustration with her sudden, increased concern. All of them clearly worried about where this was headed.

Cadey Patton of
The
Typhoon
tried to brush it off. “Our losses are no greater than those of the other fleets now.”

Naero sighed. “That still isn’t good enough for me,” Naero told them
.

She thought of their wounded on
The
Columbia
.

“Therefore, I want all ships to institute these new procedures, and protocols.”
She released the new regs.

Forty-two captain heads snapped down to study the new directives appearing on the data pads in front of them
.

After a few minutes, the same number groaned
, almost in unison.

And several began to voice protests
.

Naero shot to her feet and silenced them, her face set
.

Most of them knew that look
.

She had a rep among her fleet for decisiveness and an intense force of will.
She had demonstrated that force of will often, in the face of the enemy, and before them, many times. They all knew that she could be harsh, when necessary.

“I expect all of you to get on board with this and assist me directly
in these matters.”

Some
still persisted to object.

Like Paulos Archer of
The
Whiskey
Jack
.

“With due respect, Captain Maeris
, doubling the number of lifepods on each vessel will be expensive and time consuming. It is also superfluous, extravagant, and not required by any current fleet regulations. Not to mention a complete waste of time and resources.”

She focused her gaze on him
.

“We’ll learn what works and what doesn’t, Paul. But we’re going to try these procedures out. All of you get used to that, and stop whining. The fixers can add the extra lifepods as we refit. Most of us hav
e to refit heavily after each battle anyway.

“I’m having more fixers generated to handle the increased workload. And studies show that our crews are not having enough time to hit the lifepods during emergencies. This should improve their chances of abandoning ship and getting away once a vessel begins to cook off
.”

Imala Kalada of
The
Warhorse
, Clan Apache,
stood up herself. She was shorter than Naero even–which was hard to accomplish–but she too had a well-earned rep for being a ferocious knife-fighter. Much again like Naero herself.

“Are we at war or not?
N, these regs will have us dumping our crews and our drive cores much sooner–if I’m reading this right. And possibly, right in the midst of heated battles. Last time I checked, Triax and their allies among the other Corps still do not take prisoners. They continually use our life pods for target practice. Better to die fighting to my mind.”

“Imala, you and the other captains must still use your best
judgment under the exact situation for you and your ships. I trust your judgment. But if there is a chance, I simply don’t want to lose so many people during every battle. Our people are the best trained crews in the Alliance. We cannot waste them. The meat grinder is unforgiving enough.”

Captain Imala sat down
.

Dolph Kurtz of
The
Hammerhead
put in his two bits. “Reduce casualties by prosecuting the war to its fullest extent. No let up. Drive the enemy into submission and crush them. Shorten the war that way. That will save lives more than anything.”

Naero shook her head. “I used to think the same way. But the math does not support that view. This isn’t going to be over in a few days, or a few weeks. We can’t just push through and tough it out at all costs.
Those costs will be too high, if we just charge ahead all the time.”

She cleared her throat. “Now, answer me this. How many of you have spent some time with our wounded, after a battle, on
The
Columbia
?”

None of them, from the way they stared back at her
.

Just as she suspected.
Just like she had been–oblivious.

That was
also going to change.

“From now on, after each battle, there will be a rotation of able ship captains to visit our troops on
board our hospital ship. I am not excluding myself from the rotation. Trust me on this. Expect an education.”

They looked at her
as if she was insane.

“L
isten up, all of you. Trust our leaders who came before us. We can’t just focus on combat alone. There’s more to it all than that. We need to fight smarter and conserve our forces for a long term conflict. Our enemies are doing everything they can to bleed us and make us pay a very high price for each battle. We need to reduce those losses. This is going to take months, and wear us all down if we aren’t disciplined, adaptive, and careful.”

Moira Blooding
of
The
Starfall
asked a question.

“Naero, will these new shielding procedures really protect our power cores better from direct hits? We’ve all seen other ships
like
The
Wombat
flare off in an instant and get vaporized. Not many can escape that. There just isn’t time.”

Naero nodded. “Intel and Admiral Klyne insist that these advanced shielding procedures should cut down on catastrophic explosion of power cores due to direct pe
netration and explosive strikes–by thirty-one percent. By almost a third. And automatic core jettison protocols will help ships survive more as well.”

Naero rose up and crossed her arms in front of her as she paced slowly, counter-clockwise around the meeting table, narrowing her eyes at each of them the
same exact way she’d seen Aunt Sleak do a jillion times.

“
Now, we can continue to discuss all of your concerns. That is why I brought you all here and took this time for this planning session. I want to address these matters and debate them, one by one. But be advised. These programs are going to be put into effect and tried out to see what works, and what doesn’t. Results, people. Get it through your skulls. Results are what matters. If something doesn’t work, we’ll throw it out and try something else that will.”

She turned her back to them and looked out through the viewport.
She laced her hands behind the small of her back.

“You and your crew
s are all excellent, top-notch fighters. Difficult to replace. I want to save as many of you as I can to fight anew each day. And it’s a selfish thing on my part, I admit. You can’t kick ass for me if you are dead, or severely wounded.”

Naero sighed and bowed her head slightly
.

“This is war. We’ve lost good ships and good crew. We all know we’re going to lose more. That’s a fact none of us can avoid. And we take our chances with the rest. But we
can reduce those losses. We have months to go before all is done, and Triax is no more. And honestly…I’m already sick to death of wakes and funerals.”