Cradle of War (A Captain's Crucible Book 3) (13 page)

R
obert sat at his place before the Round Table, and ran his gaze across the officers who manned the various stations. Rald Lazur at the comm station. Tara Lewis at the ops station. Peter Moley at the helm. Sarah Ernest at nav. The other officers.

His eyes drifted to the windowless, curved bulkheads beyond them, and settled on the master-at-arms near the entry hatch. He recognized Petty Officer Connolly, the MA who had obeyed without question when Robert had ordered him to remove Captain Scott from command during the battle for the planet killer.

All of these loyal men and women, ready to obey me. The
Callaway
and her crew, and the other captains of the task group, mine to command. For the next six months, anyway.

He never wanted the command thrust on him. He had always wanted to earn it, and a part of him resented the fact that Jonathan had unceremoniously departed, leaving him in charge of the fleet like that. While it was doubtful anything of note would transpire in the Elder galaxy while Jonathan was gone, still Robert wasn’t entirely happy.

Though he had to admit, if he was truly honest with himself, that it was good to sit in the captain’s chair again.

He had in fact been offered a command position on a vessel called the
Rampage
, due to enter service five months from the current date, but by the time he got back to his own galaxy the position would be long since taken. He doubted the offer would have remained even if he returned earlier, because of the inquiry he had to face for his part in the mutiny. Jonathan said he would protect him, and Robert knew the captain would certainly try, but somehow Robert doubted he would be able to. Robert’s involvement was clearly documented in the holographic drives of Maxwell’s memory banks. A partial copy had been included with the drives Jonathan had brought aboard the
Talon
.

He wondered who would be given command of the
Rampage
in his stead. He hoped someone worthy.

He remembered telling the captain he intended to turn down the position anyway. But after experiencing a taste of command shortly thereafter, he had regretted that decision. He felt he was holding himself back, perhaps out of a misplaced sense of loyalty to the captain.

He sighed, knowing that he wouldn’t get another chance at command again for a long time. If ever.

Better enjoy it while I can.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and then glanced at Miko beside him. The officer was talking to someone, though Robert couldn’t hear because of the noise canceler.

When Miko finished his conversation, Robert extended his own noise canceler around him and said: “Liking your new chair, Lieutenant?”

“I could definitely get used to this,” Miko said.

Robert had chosen him as his acting first officer, though Miko still served as tactical officer as well.

“Really?” Robert said. “And what about all the administrative paperwork? Dealing with complaints from the various department heads?”

Miko shrugged. “It does eat into my spare time a little. But it’s not like I have anything better to do.”

Robert cocked his head. “I thought you composed symphonies in your off hours?”

Miko nodded. “Well sure, but it’s really just a hobby, something to do to pass the time while on deployment. To be honest, I haven’t made anything new in a while. Guess I haven’t felt inspired, lately.”

“Not much inspiring out here these days, is there?” Robert said. “You’d think, being in another galaxy and all, we’d see some fairly amazing stuff. And yet it’s not so different from our own. Not at all.”

“Same feces, different pile,” his first officer agreed.

“Miko,” Robert said, feigning surprise. “Watch your gutter mouth!” He grinned mischievously. “Though in the future, if you’re going to spout a crude saying, I’d prefer if you used the actual words. The effect is kind of lost in euphemism.”

“Sorry, sir,” Miko replied.

“You’ve met Stanley, right?”

“On a few occasions,” Miko said.

“Well, you’ll be interacting with him a lot more in your new role,” Robert said. “And trust me, you’ll never hear a euphemism leave his lips. When you talk to him, you’ll understand where the origin of the phrase
cuss like a sailor
came from.”

“I’m sure I will,” Miko replied.

“Have you ever—”

“Sir,” Ensign Lewis interrupted. “I’ve got something.”

Robert retracted the noise canceler. “What is it?”

“One of the telemetry drones we dispatched to scout the system has reported in,” Ensign Lewis said. “It’s discovered an anomalous thermal reading on a moon orbiting the third gas giant.”

“Another anomaly?” Robert mused. “More Elder offspring?”

“I don’t know, sir.”

“The third gas giant...” Robert glanced at Miko. “Isn’t that where the six Raakarr ships emerged from last week? Those vessels the Raakarr built in this system?”

Miko nodded. “That’s right.”

He glanced at Lewis. “Why are we detecting the thermal reading only now? Those drones have been out there for days.”

“The telemetry drone in question only passed behind the gas giant a day ago,” Lewis said. “The moon’s orbit is exceedingly slow, and it has remained out of our direct line of sight since we arrived in the system. The drone found the anomaly only after passing the far side of the moon. It had to return to a higher orbit, far enough away from the radiation belts of the gas giant to transmit the information to us.”

Robert nodded. “The Raakarr chose a good site for their shipyard.”

“Assuming that’s what this is,” Miko said.

Robert considered his options. “Maxwell, I’m taking the
Callaway
and
Dagger
to investigate. Inform the captain of the
Salvador
that he is in command of the remaining task unit.”

“Yes sir,” Maxwell replied.

“You know how Captain Dallas felt about splitting the fleet up...?” Miko said.

“I’m not Captain Dallas,” Robert told him, a bit more brusquely than he intended.

“All right,” Miko said. “But I wouldn’t be fulfilling my role as first officer if I didn’t remind you of what happened the last time two of our ships went off to investigate an anomalous thermal reading on the moon of a gas giant.”

Robert regarded Miko thoughtfully. “I’m hoping things don’t turn out so poorly this time.”

Because he definitely didn’t want the same fate as the
Selene
and
Aegis
to befall them
.

“In the meantime,” Robert said. “Send the telemetry drone in for a closer look. Let’s see if we can get some insights into what’s actually going on down there.”

J
onathan resided in his psi-shielded tent in the berthing area. The others had retired to their shelters, too, as the hour was late. He was wearing his aReal goggles and writing in his log for the day. Ordinarily he would have kept a video logbook, but since there were no lightfield cameras available and he didn’t feel inclined to hold out his goggles or helmet in front of him selfie-style, he had chosen the written route.

“You know...” Chief Galaal’s voice floated through the berthing area, sounding slightly muted thanks to the tent he spoke inside of. “If the Raakarr have conquered Prius 3 and the adjacent systems, we’re essentially behind enemy lines, right?”

Jonathan took a break from writing his log entry. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. But you’re entirely right. Especially when you consider the Raakarr are placing the equivalent of comm nodes at the entrance to every Slipstream.”

“And destroying our own Gates in the process,” the chief said. “What happened in Prius 3 disturbs me. Greatly.”

“It disturbs us all,” Sil Chopra chimed in from her own tent.

“You don’t understand,” the chief said. “I’ve lived through similar events in the past. This is how it begins. You’re all witnessing history. The cradle of the next alien war. It starts with skirmishes on the border systems. And soon grows to all out hostilities. This won’t end well. Not for either side.”

“I won’t disagree with you there,” Jonathan said. “The cradle of war. Not really what any of us signed up for, is it?”

“If I’d known I’d be serving aboard an alien ship behind enemy lines,” Rodriguez said. “I probably would have thought long and hard before crossing illegally into the United Systems.”

“You’re one of those immigrant draftees?” Rail said. “I thought they struck down the Enforced Enlistment Act back in ‘06?”

“Oh they did,” Rodriguez said. “But I arrived in ‘05.”

“Never realized you were that old,” Rail said, the mockery obvious in her tone.

“I’ve had a few rejuvenations done,” Rodriguez admitted. “But I don’t consider myself old. Enlightened is the better term. Wiser.”

“More curmudgeonly, you mean,” Chief Galaal said.

“I actually think I’m cheerier than I used to be,” Rodriguez told him.

“I was talking about myself,” the chief replied.

“Ah. I can certainly vouch for that,” Rodriguez said, sounding amused.

“The two of you have served together previously?” Jonathan asked.

“On a couple of deployments,” Rodriguez answered. “Back then, Chief Galaal was still making a name for himself as leading petty officer. I’ll tell you one thing, you didn’t want to get on his wrong side. Still don’t, actually.”

“Very few people get on my wrong side,” the chief said. “Unless they call me sir.”

“I think that was a surreptitious insult aimed at us officers,” Rodriguez joked.

“Not at all,” the chief said. “I know my place. Just as you know yours.”

The conversation momentarily died.

“Sometimes I wonder if I truly know mine,” Jonathan said into the silence that followed. “Am I truly the captain of a fleet? If so, why have I led my intrepid crew here? What the hell have I done?”

“You’re doing the best you can,” Connie said. “Like us all.”

“Am I?” Jonathan said.
Then why do I feel so powerless?

“I think we’ll all need a good talking to with an experienced counselor when this is over,” Captain Rail said. “Of course, I’m referring to after your inquiry, Dallas.”

“Yes,” Jonathan said. “Thank you for reminding me of that.”

“I thought that was what you were alluding to,” Rail said. “When you were questioning your authority over the fleet.”

“Not at all,” Jonathan said. “But you’re right. What happened between me and Admiral Knox is another reason why I’m not so sure of my place.”

“I don’t know why you need a governing body to validate your position,” Rodriguez said. “By now you should know in your heart that you’re our commodore. You’ve led us through thick and thin. You don’t need the approval of some board of inquiry.”

“Unfortunately I do,” Jonathan sighed. “Legally, I will have to answer for what I’ve done.”

“And you will answer,” Rail said. “Don’t you worry.”

“Why are you so vindictive toward the captain?” Rodriguez asked. “What did he ever do to you, other than save your life?”

“It’s not what he did to
me
,” Rail said. “But the Admiral. Disobeying a superior officer like that, trying to get the other captains to rise against him, that’s deplorable behavior. It strikes against the very tenets at the heart of the navy. If people didn’t follow orders, there could
be
no navy.” She hesitated. Then: “Also, on a personal note, Knox told me he was going to put me in for a commendation when we got back. I would have been given command of my own task unit. The
Salvador
would have become a flagship.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about,” Rodriguez said. “You think you’ve lost your chance of advancement now that the admiral you were all cushy with is gone. But I got news for you, Rail. He was playing you. He did it to all of us. He promised me the same thing. Back when we were in Vega 951, he told me I was second in line after Captain Dallas. That if Dallas weren’t there, I would have been given command of the second task unit.” Rodriguez’s voice quavered slightly. “That was one of the reasons I didn’t back you, Captain, when you called for the admiral’s removal. I thought Knox was going to make me the commodore of your task unit. But then Knox went and put Scott in charge of the unit, and I was like: what the eff. I’m guessing Knox made the same promise to all the other captains you tried to rally to your cause.”

Jonathan nodded slowly. “I was wondering what sort of backhanded dealing was going on behind the scenes. Political plays were never my strong suit.”

“You’re too humble, Captain,” Rodriguez said. “I’ve seen your tactics. Politics and space battles aren’t so removed from one another. Misdirection, trojan horses, pretend alliances... in politics, it’s all par for the course.”

“Maybe so,” Jonathan said, though he wasn’t convinced.

“What are you saying,” Sil chimed in. “Our alliance with these Raakarr is pretend?”

“Not at all,” Rodriguez said.

“NAVCENT may treat it as such,” Rail added.

“I hope not,” Sil said. “I’d hate to think we deceived these Zarafe into bringing us home, only to betray them when we arrive.”

“You forget,” Rail said. “That they could be the ones deceiving us. They want our planet killers. And they’ll do anything to get their hands on one. Even if it means pretending to be our allies.”

The conversation almost died on that note. But a few minutes later Rodriguez started it up again.

“What’s it like serving on the same ship as your dad?” Rodriguez asked. His words were obviously directed toward Sil.

She didn’t answer right away. “Not as bad as you’d think. He’s not my CO, thankfully, and we don’t see each other all that much. The
Callaway
is a big ship, after all. I can’t really bump into him accidentally.”

“Imagine if your father was the captain,” Connie said. “And you served on the bridge with him.”

“Now that would be a bad, bad thing,” Sil said. “It would be bad enough if I were the captain, and I had to order his team of MOTHs to perform some suicide mission. I don’t think I could do it. I can only imagine the inner turmoil Captain Dallas experienced when he had to fight an enemy who harbored the wife of his first officer. A wife who was also a good friend of his.”

Jonathan knew he was expected to say something, but he elected to remain quiet. He glanced at his log, and thought of something he had been meaning to ask Connie.

“Lieutenant Myers,” Jonathan said. “I don’t suppose you’ve had any luck determining the new frequency our laser rifles need to penetrate the personal shielding of the aliens?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Connie said. “I’ve had the Dragonfly attempt an active scan of the guards in the hangar bay, but it hasn’t helped. I’ll actually need to get my hands on one of their darkness generators; only then can I use the tools I’ve stowed aboard the shuttle to determine the new frequency.”

“I’ll talk to Barrick,” Jonathan told her.

“Wait,” Rail said. “Is that wise? Can we trust him? What if he reveals our intentions to Valor?”

“Do we have any other choice?” Jonathan said. “I’m under constant observation when I leave the berthing area, so there’s no way I’ll be able to secure one of the devices myself. Plus I don’t even know where they’re stored.”

“How do we know Barrick isn’t under constant observation as well?” Rail said. “And perhaps looking for any opportunity to ingratiate himself with his alien masters.”

“If he wanted to, he could invent a fake plot at any time,” Jonathan told her. “As the only one of us capable of talking to the aliens, he basically holds our fates in his hands already. I say we give him a chance to prove himself.”

No one else disagreed, so Jonathan called Barrick via the aReal.

A moment later the telepath tapped in.

“Yes, Captain?” Barrick said.

“What if I told you there was a way to regain our trust?” Jonathan asked him. “At least partially.”

“I’m interested,” Barrick said, sounding cautious.

“Well,” Jonathan continued. “It would certainly go a long way toward that end if you could help us secure one of the Raakar darkness generators.”

“You mean a
tartaan?
” Barrick asked. He had named the generators after the tartans Scottish highlanders wore because the patterns of light and darkness given off by the devices apparently denoted clans, like their namesakes.

“Yes, fine,” Jonathan said. “A tartaan.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” Barrick answered. “However, I should warn the captain I may require the aid of one of his stalwart crew members to complete the task.”

“Tell me who you need,” Jonathan said. “And you’ll have him.”

“It’s not so much a him I want,” Barrick replied. “But a her.”