Authors: Taylor Anderson
Firestorm (8 page)
There rose a determined cheer, and the enthusiastic stamping on the deck reverberated throughout the abbreviated superstructure of
Salissa
Home—USS
Salissa
(CV-1).
Salissa
Home—USS
Salissa
(CV-1).
CHAPTER 3
Off New Scotland, southeast of the New Britain Isles, in the “Eastern Sea”
U
SS
Walker
(DD-163), the old “four-stacker” destroyer and possibly the sole survivor of the U.S. Asiatic Fleet on a lost, increasingly less relevant “earth,” slashed through the brisk, breezy sea off the southwest coast of New Scotland. On that dimming world she’d been swept from—saved from, most likely—by an eerie, anomalous squall, New Scotland would have been several islands, including Maui, Molokai, Lanai, and Kahoolawe. Here, due to lower sea levels (there was now definitive evidence this “earth” was locked in an “ice age”) and the random nature of volcanism, the clustered islands were one. The old destroyer had been healed of the recent damage she’d sustained, and she bounced through the swells on three boilers like a happy puppy racing to meet a massive, full-grown playmate she hadn’t seen in ages.
SS
Walker
(DD-163), the old “four-stacker” destroyer and possibly the sole survivor of the U.S. Asiatic Fleet on a lost, increasingly less relevant “earth,” slashed through the brisk, breezy sea off the southwest coast of New Scotland. On that dimming world she’d been swept from—saved from, most likely—by an eerie, anomalous squall, New Scotland would have been several islands, including Maui, Molokai, Lanai, and Kahoolawe. Here, due to lower sea levels (there was now definitive evidence this “earth” was locked in an “ice age”) and the random nature of volcanism, the clustered islands were one. The old destroyer had been healed of the recent damage she’d sustained, and she bounced through the swells on three boilers like a happy puppy racing to meet a massive, full-grown playmate she hadn’t seen in ages.
At long last, Task Force “Oil Can,” composed of the stupendous Le- murian seagoing Home,
Salaama-Na
, two more “Amer-i-caan” steam frigates, some sailing tenders and dedicated oilers, and the Imperial steamers
Ulysses
and
Icarus
, had arrived.
Salaama-Na
dominated the squadron with her huge sails, or “wings,” and it was toward her, flagship of the task force, that
Walker
sped. Unlike some others of the great Homes,
Salaama-Na
hadn’t been altered into an aircraft carrier, or more appropriately, a seaplane carrier/tender. Her beautiful, awesome lines hadn’t been altered in any way. That was one reason it had taken her so long to arrive—she, like others of her kind, was very, very slow—but it didn’t make her a less welcome sight.
Salaama-Na
, two more “Amer-i-caan” steam frigates, some sailing tenders and dedicated oilers, and the Imperial steamers
Ulysses
and
Icarus
, had arrived.
Salaama-Na
dominated the squadron with her huge sails, or “wings,” and it was toward her, flagship of the task force, that
Walker
sped. Unlike some others of the great Homes,
Salaama-Na
hadn’t been altered into an aircraft carrier, or more appropriately, a seaplane carrier/tender. Her beautiful, awesome lines hadn’t been altered in any way. That was one reason it had taken her so long to arrive—she, like others of her kind, was very, very slow—but it didn’t make her a less welcome sight.
Captain Matthew Reddy, “High Chief” of the ever-growing “Amer-i-caan” clan, CINCAAF, (Commander in Chief of All Allied Forces—by acclamation), and more specifically—currently—CINCEAST, was grinning broadly at the sight of the huge ship. His green eyes, often capable of icy remorselessness, sparkled with pleasure, and his mood was reflected by the mixed human/Lemurian—“American”—crew around him in
Walker’
s pilothouse, and indeed, throughout his veteran ship. Matt had been grinning a lot lately, despite the added pressure and responsibility of a “whole new war” here in what their allies considered an impossibly distant “far east.” Nearly two years of constant war and the associated stress had taken their toll, but that was a kind of stress for which he’d always been well equipped. His long funk had suddenly been erased by almost-miraculous news of a very personal nature. Compared to the relief that gave him, even an added theater in an apparently endlessly growing war seemed barely able to touch him.
Walker’
s pilothouse, and indeed, throughout his veteran ship. Matt had been grinning a lot lately, despite the added pressure and responsibility of a “whole new war” here in what their allies considered an impossibly distant “far east.” Nearly two years of constant war and the associated stress had taken their toll, but that was a kind of stress for which he’d always been well equipped. His long funk had suddenly been erased by almost-miraculous news of a very personal nature. Compared to the relief that gave him, even an added theater in an apparently endlessly growing war seemed barely able to touch him.
“That
Salaama-Na
is sure a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “I’d rather she was one of the flat-tops, converted or new, but I don’t think anything quite as impressive as one of those seagoing Homes has ever put to sea on this world
or
back home!”
Salaama-Na
is sure a sight for sore eyes,” he said. “I’d rather she was one of the flat-tops, converted or new, but I don’t think anything quite as impressive as one of those seagoing Homes has ever put to sea on this world
or
back home!”
“She’s a welcome sight, and that’s a fact,” agreed Brad “Spanky” McFarlane in his gruff but amiable way. Spanky was a little guy; short and skinny, but the power of his personality and supreme engineering authority always left people the impression he was bigger than he was. He’d been
Walker’
s engineering officer—a “mustang”—ever since she joined the old Asiatic Fleet, and he and Chief Bosun’s Mate Fitzhugh Gray had been with the ship longer than anyone now alive. Spanky was Minister of Naval Engineering for the entire Alliance, but he’d also recently become
Walker
’s executive officer. There was no question which of the two he personally considered the more important job. “I think I’m happier to see the oilers she’s got with her! This little jaunt to meet our friends is liable to leave our bunkers suckin’ air!” he added.
Walker’
s engineering officer—a “mustang”—ever since she joined the old Asiatic Fleet, and he and Chief Bosun’s Mate Fitzhugh Gray had been with the ship longer than anyone now alive. Spanky was Minister of Naval Engineering for the entire Alliance, but he’d also recently become
Walker
’s executive officer. There was no question which of the two he personally considered the more important job. “I think I’m happier to see the oilers she’s got with her! This little jaunt to meet our friends is liable to leave our bunkers suckin’ air!” he added.
Chief Gray grunted agreement. In contrast to Spanky, Gray was almost as tall as Captain Reddy and even more powerfully built—despite being “in the vicinity” of sixty. The flab he’d accumulated after years on the China Station had reverted to muscle since “the Squall,” and, physically, he’d thrived on their adventures. He’d also become something far beyond a chief bosun’s mate, although that “something” was still ill-defined. Carl Bashear had taken his old job aboard
Walker
, but even he considered Gray as something like a “super bosun.” Most of the surviving original destroyermen from
Walker
and her lost sister
Mahan
had been promoted, many to a lofty status; so had the survivors of the old submarine S-19. Matt refused to appoint himself anything higher than captain, but he’d been acclaimed commander in chief, and there was only one “Captain Reddy.” For Gray, it was even more complicated. He wore a lot of different hats now; he commanded the Captain’s Guard detail, for example, but he’d been the highest-ranking NCO on
Walker
, and for his deeds and vast moral authority, he’d become the most exalted NCO in the Alliance. Few officers would’ve even considered actually giving him an order. He’d even refused orders issued by Adar, the High Chief and Sky Priest of Baalkpan, and Chairman of the Grand Alliance, because they’d interfered with his Navy oath! What kind of “promotion” could possibly have meaning for the man? Matt thought he finally had it and was toying with the establishment of “Chief Bosun of the Navy,” which would basically confirm Gray’s “super bosun” status.
Walker
, but even he considered Gray as something like a “super bosun.” Most of the surviving original destroyermen from
Walker
and her lost sister
Mahan
had been promoted, many to a lofty status; so had the survivors of the old submarine S-19. Matt refused to appoint himself anything higher than captain, but he’d been acclaimed commander in chief, and there was only one “Captain Reddy.” For Gray, it was even more complicated. He wore a lot of different hats now; he commanded the Captain’s Guard detail, for example, but he’d been the highest-ranking NCO on
Walker
, and for his deeds and vast moral authority, he’d become the most exalted NCO in the Alliance. Few officers would’ve even considered actually giving him an order. He’d even refused orders issued by Adar, the High Chief and Sky Priest of Baalkpan, and Chairman of the Grand Alliance, because they’d interfered with his Navy oath! What kind of “promotion” could possibly have meaning for the man? Matt thought he finally had it and was toying with the establishment of “Chief Bosun of the Navy,” which would basically confirm Gray’s “super bosun” status.
It would be more than just a title. Matt knew chiefs had their own culture, almost like an exclusive fraternity one never really left even if they received commissions. With all the Lemurian “chiefs” entering the fold, it was probably time for that growing fraternity to have some form of “supreme authority” of its own before they made up too many new, wacky rules. The age-old, traditional strife between the deck (ape) divisions and the engineering (snipe) divisions served a purpose, but Matt could see things getting out of hand as time went by—as things became more dominated by the very literal-minded Lemurians. The last thing they needed was an equivalent to warring labor unions aboard Navy ships! Gray could lay down the law and establish firm traditions everyone would respect—while making sure the chiefs maintained that unifying brotherhood that made them so effective at not only controlling their divisions and getting along with one another, solving little problems aboard ship before they became big enough that officers had to “notice” them, and frankly, culling poor performers from their own ranks.
“Oil’s a fine thing,” Gray grumbled, “but I’m just as happy to see those new steam frigates, or ‘DDs’ I guess they’re callin’ ’em.” He seemed unhappy with the term. “What are their names?”
Matt looked through his binoculars. “They’re flying their numbers, so I guess the one to leeward of
Salaama-Na
is
Mertz
, named for our old
Salaama-Na
is
Mertz
, named for our old
“A hell of a thing,” Gray snorted. “Get killed servin’ sammitches, and they name a destroyer after you!” He looked at the surprised expressions. “Not that I’m against it! Besides, it’ll be a hoot to see how Lanier reacts! Mertz deserves a statue for puttin’ up with that nasty, bloated bastard so long.” Earl Lanier was
Walker
’s unpopular cook, and Ray Mertz had been his long-suffering assistant. “What’s the other one?”
Walker
’s unpopular cook, and Ray Mertz had been his long-suffering assistant. “What’s the other one?”
“She’s
Tindal
,” Matt replied grimly. “They launched her in Maa-ni-la as
Lelaa
, but when they found out Captain Lelaa-Tal-Cleraan wasn’t dead after all, they named her after Miami.” “Miami” Tindal had been
Walker
’s chief engineer during the recent action at Scapa Flow. Matt’s face became an unreadable contrast of sadness and barely suppressed . . . glee. Their allies in the Fil-pin Lands had also discovered that Nurse Lieutenant and “Minister of Medicine” Sandra Tucker—the woman Matt loved—had also survived a terrible ordeal. Ironically, it was her abduction, along with that of others, that brought
Walker
and her crew so far from where Sandra was ultimately found—and embroiled the Grand Alliance in yet
another
war. Sandra, Princess Rebecca Anne McDonald, Sister Audry, Abel Cook, Midshipman Stuart Brassey, the “ex”-Tagranesi “Lawrence,” and the . . . inimitable . . . Chief Gunner’s Mate Dennis Silva had all been rescued by the remnants of “Task Force Laumer.” Incredibly, the battered submarine that Lieutenant Irvin Laumer had been sent to salvage had endured grounding, a year on an island beach, and ultimately a colossal volcanic eruption and tidal wave, before finding the important castaways adrift in the Fil-pin Sea along with seventy-odd survivors of Lawrence’s Grik-like people.
Tindal
,” Matt replied grimly. “They launched her in Maa-ni-la as
Lelaa
, but when they found out Captain Lelaa-Tal-Cleraan wasn’t dead after all, they named her after Miami.” “Miami” Tindal had been
Walker
’s chief engineer during the recent action at Scapa Flow. Matt’s face became an unreadable contrast of sadness and barely suppressed . . . glee. Their allies in the Fil-pin Lands had also discovered that Nurse Lieutenant and “Minister of Medicine” Sandra Tucker—the woman Matt loved—had also survived a terrible ordeal. Ironically, it was her abduction, along with that of others, that brought
Walker
and her crew so far from where Sandra was ultimately found—and embroiled the Grand Alliance in yet
another
war. Sandra, Princess Rebecca Anne McDonald, Sister Audry, Abel Cook, Midshipman Stuart Brassey, the “ex”-Tagranesi “Lawrence,” and the . . . inimitable . . . Chief Gunner’s Mate Dennis Silva had all been rescued by the remnants of “Task Force Laumer.” Incredibly, the battered submarine that Lieutenant Irvin Laumer had been sent to salvage had endured grounding, a year on an island beach, and ultimately a colossal volcanic eruption and tidal wave, before finding the important castaways adrift in the Fil-pin Sea along with seventy-odd survivors of Lawrence’s Grik-like people.
“
Tindal
’s a good name,” Spanky said at last, breaking the awkward silence that ensued.
Tindal
’s a good name,” Spanky said at last, breaking the awkward silence that ensued.
“Yes, it is,” Matt agreed. “So’s
Mertz
. Ray was a good kid, and making sandwiches in the middle of a fight probably takes more guts than shooting at the enemy.”
Mertz
. Ray was a good kid, and making sandwiches in the middle of a fight probably takes more guts than shooting at the enemy.”
Walker
continued her sprint toward the approaching squadron. All the ships, except
Salaama-Na
and the two Imperials,
Ulysses
and
Icarus
, were flying the Stars and Stripes—the flag of the American Navy and everyone, Lemurians included, who’d joined that “clan.” Matt directed
Walker
’s speed be reduced to one-third, and had the ship’s whistle sounded in greeting. A gout of white steam gushed from the whistle, emitting a throbbing, bass shriek. The greeting was answered by similar tones from
Tindal
and
Mertz
, whose whistles were copies of
Walker
’s, and by higher-pitched toots from
Ulysses
and
Icarus
. The Imperial frigates also loosed an exuberant, thundering broadside in salute.
continued her sprint toward the approaching squadron. All the ships, except
Salaama-Na
and the two Imperials,
Ulysses
and
Icarus
, were flying the Stars and Stripes—the flag of the American Navy and everyone, Lemurians included, who’d joined that “clan.” Matt directed
Walker
’s speed be reduced to one-third, and had the ship’s whistle sounded in greeting. A gout of white steam gushed from the whistle, emitting a throbbing, bass shriek. The greeting was answered by similar tones from
Tindal
and
Mertz
, whose whistles were copies of
Walker
’s, and by higher-pitched toots from
Ulysses
and
Icarus
. The Imperial frigates also loosed an exuberant, thundering broadside in salute.
“I wish old Harvey Jenks was here to see this!” Gray said. Again, he noticed surprised stares. He and the Imperial commodore got along fine now, but there’d been a time when they hated each other. Jenks couldn’t come today because he’d been across the island for several days, coordinating civil and naval preparations in Edinburgh for the upcoming campaign against the rebels and “Holy Dominion” forces on New Ireland. He was due back, and would likely be in Scapa Flow by the time the ships made port.
“I just meant, you know, that big ’Cat Home is a hell of a sight and . . . well, our fightin’ ships are prettier than his!” he defended. Everyone in the pilothouse laughed.
At a much reduced speed, which left her skinny, round-bottomed hull wallowing sickeningly in the swells,
ize="3"escorted the new arrivals into the Imperial Home Fleet port of Scapa Flow. Sufficient space for
Salaama-Na
had reluctantly been set aside by an incredulous harbormaster, who’d disbelieved her described dimensions. He’d been told by Matt
and
Jenks that the thousand-foot vessel simply wouldn’t fit in the otherwise-generous dock space allocated to “American” ships, not if
Walker
,
Simms
,
Tindal
, and
Mertz
were to have a place. At least the huge Home wouldn’t need the space for long; only until she off-loaded her cargo of replacements, prefabricated tank batteries, and the heavy machinery sent to support the Allied presence there. She’d then moor away from the dock, as was customary with ships her size, until Sor-Lomaak decided to leave.
ize="3"escorted the new arrivals into the Imperial Home Fleet port of Scapa Flow. Sufficient space for
Salaama-Na
had reluctantly been set aside by an incredulous harbormaster, who’d disbelieved her described dimensions. He’d been told by Matt
and
Jenks that the thousand-foot vessel simply wouldn’t fit in the otherwise-generous dock space allocated to “American” ships, not if
Walker
,
Simms
,
Tindal
, and
Mertz
were to have a place. At least the huge Home wouldn’t need the space for long; only until she off-loaded her cargo of replacements, prefabricated tank batteries, and the heavy machinery sent to support the Allied presence there. She’d then moor away from the dock, as was customary with ships her size, until Sor-Lomaak decided to leave.
All Scapa Flow turned out to see the arrival. Everyone loved to see
Walker
underway, and this was the first time she’d moved other than to “switch sides” at the dock to facilitate repairs since the battle that saved the Empire from a quick Dominion victory. Still, today she was only part of the attraction. By order of the Governor-Emperor, the massive harbor forts bellowed a welcoming salute with their heavy guns. This was answered by each arriving ship; a few shots from the light guns on the oilers, creditable broadsides from the returning Imperial frigates, sharper, fewer, louder, reports from the “American” frigates, and a massive, rolling, booming roar from
Salaama-Na
’s new fifty-pounders. All was punctuated by a perfect four-gun salvo from the sleek gray destroyer. Whistles shrieked and bells rang, and lizard birds and flocks of colorful parrots swirled in the air over the harbor.
Walker
underway, and this was the first time she’d moved other than to “switch sides” at the dock to facilitate repairs since the battle that saved the Empire from a quick Dominion victory. Still, today she was only part of the attraction. By order of the Governor-Emperor, the massive harbor forts bellowed a welcoming salute with their heavy guns. This was answered by each arriving ship; a few shots from the light guns on the oilers, creditable broadsides from the returning Imperial frigates, sharper, fewer, louder, reports from the “American” frigates, and a massive, rolling, booming roar from
Salaama-Na
’s new fifty-pounders. All was punctuated by a perfect four-gun salvo from the sleek gray destroyer. Whistles shrieked and bells rang, and lizard birds and flocks of colorful parrots swirled in the air over the harbor.
The American frigates were a hit with their clean lines unmarred by paddle wheels and with the distinctive contrast of the white paint against the dark hulls between their gunports. Like
Walker
and
Simms
, they were oil burners, and they didn’t produce the black, choking plumes of sooty smoke as Imperial steamers did. Ultimately, however, even though she wasn’t technically a warship,
Salaama-Na
was the focus of attention. In a way, she represented a primitive technology. She moved primarily by sail alone. Only at times like this, when confined in restrictive waters, did her hundred massive—but even more primitive—sweep oars come out to propel and shift her closer to the dock. But she also represented a native sophistication inherent among the Imperial’s new Lemurian allies that predated human contact. Some of the old journals and logs of the “Founders,” the crews of the ancient “East Indiamen” that went among the distant “ape folk” after the “Passage” to this world, hinted they possessed “momentous vessels,” but except for a few crude drawings, little more was mentioned. It was encouraging—and a little humbling— that the Lemurians (
don’t call them “ape folk!”
) were, and had been so advanced in terms of industrial and structural engineering. The sturdy American frigates—not to mention the flying machines!—demonstrated how seamlessly that ingenuity could be mated to a technology beyond even that of the Empire.
Walker
and
Simms
, they were oil burners, and they didn’t produce the black, choking plumes of sooty smoke as Imperial steamers did. Ultimately, however, even though she wasn’t technically a warship,
Salaama-Na
was the focus of attention. In a way, she represented a primitive technology. She moved primarily by sail alone. Only at times like this, when confined in restrictive waters, did her hundred massive—but even more primitive—sweep oars come out to propel and shift her closer to the dock. But she also represented a native sophistication inherent among the Imperial’s new Lemurian allies that predated human contact. Some of the old journals and logs of the “Founders,” the crews of the ancient “East Indiamen” that went among the distant “ape folk” after the “Passage” to this world, hinted they possessed “momentous vessels,” but except for a few crude drawings, little more was mentioned. It was encouraging—and a little humbling— that the Lemurians (
don’t call them “ape folk!”
) were, and had been so advanced in terms of industrial and structural engineering. The sturdy American frigates—not to mention the flying machines!—demonstrated how seamlessly that ingenuity could be mated to a technology beyond even that of the Empire.
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