The Last Hunter
Author: J. N. Chaney; Terry Mixon
Date: 2022-02-20 05:00:00+00:00
Keywords: Science Fiction; Fiction; Space Opera; Military Fiction; Space; Aliens
Description: Those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it. Two centuries after the Confederation staved off an invasion by the robotic Locusts, Captain Jack Romanoff faces mandatory retirement from an ever-shrinking Navy. Actions speak louder than words. The Confederation doesn’t think the Locusts are coming back. But what if the politicians are wrong? Snared in a scheme he doesn’t fully understand or trust, Jack gets his promotion, but it comes with a catch. With a crew of rejects, he must restore the most powerful warship humanity has ever built, after centuries of neglect and decay, bef
Publisher: Variant Publications

Copyrighted Material

The Last Hunter Copyright © 2021 by Variant Publications

Book design and layout copyright © 2021 by JN Chaney

This novel is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living, dead, or undead, is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved

No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing.

1st Edition

CONTENTS

Don’t Miss Out

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

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1

Captain Jack Romanoff reflexively suppressed a mild whole-body twitch as the Confederation Navy cruiser Hawkwing jumped through the quantum gate and into the Faust system. He’d done that kind of jump hundreds of times, and the sensation always made him slightly queasy.

This time felt somehow worse, but he knew that was simply nerves.

To distract himself, he paid attention to the plot at the front of the cramped bridge. It showed the Faust system in great detail but was primarily focused on the planet itself. The quantum gate trailed the planet and was somewhat farther out, so they still had hours of flight time until they arrived in orbit.

His helm officer, Lieutenant Commander Alexey Golousenko, turned away from his console long enough to smile at him. That always lit up the short, thin man’s face. “I estimate that we’ll be at headquarters in about three hours, Captain.”

“Take us in.”

The helm officer did so, his movements quick and dexterous. In reality, Jack wanted to tell him to drop their speed because he wasn’t in a hurry to get there, but that wasn’t the Navy way. He’d face what came without flinching. Getting there late wouldn’t improve the outcome of this meeting, so best to just get it over with.

Commander India MacKinnon, his executive officer, rose from her console and stepped over to his command chair. Without directly looking at him, she rested her hand on his forearm. It was a caring gesture, and he appreciated it.

“It’s going to be fine, Jack,” she said softly enough that her voice wouldn’t carry. “Each of us has to go through this at some point. I was just as nervous when it came time for me to get my executive officer’s slot. It’s going to work out.”

He raised an eyebrow and felt the corners of his mouth quirk upward slightly. “You’ve made a much better executive officer than I’d be as a commodore, I think. And there are a lot more executive officer slots to fill than flag postings. I’m not expecting a positive outcome, particularly after… well, you know.”

The tall, dark-haired woman faced him and gave him the kind of look she generally reserved for unruly petty officers. “That was five years ago, and you didn’t actually hit the liner. You took your eyes off the helm for sixty seconds and missed them recklessly cutting in front of your ship. It could’ve happened to any of us.

“You spotted it in time and were able to change course. Did it go on your record? Yes. Did it stop you from getting this command? No. It’s not going to be a factor in getting flag rank. Frankly, I think your father is a much bigger obstacle.”

He grunted. She was probably right about that. Living in the shadow of retired Grand Admiral Eric Romanoff would almost certainly have a bigger impact on his future. Sadly, it wasn’t going to be a positive one.

The man had been a terror when he ran the Confederation Navy. He’d made so many enemies that it was impossible to know exactly how many were scattered across the service. And most of them seemed ready to take their ire out on his son, no matter that he shared many of their views about the man.

“Thanks for that reminder,” he said dryly. “I think you’ve just reduced my chances of getting that promotion by about seventy percent.”

And for failing to be promoted, the service would cashier him. With so few ships in active service, there weren’t enough openings for all of the qualified officers. Each of the ranks hit a bottleneck where only a certain number of people could advance. The rest were beached.

He’d made it all the way to captain despite his near collision with the liner. Frankly, he’d been shocked to make it so far.

To a degree, despite his fearsome legacy, his father’s name had probably helped make that happen. The old man might have retired to pursue a political life, but his shadow was still long in the service. He still knew people and pulled their strings. If a deal could be made, his father would make it.

Jack didn’t think that was enough to help him now, and he didn’t want it to. If he was going to make commodore, he wanted it to be on his own merits. Sadly, part of him feared that he didn’t truly have what it took.

An old saying called the Peter Principle stated that one rose to the level of their own incompetence. They’d be promoted for the success they had until they found themselves in a position where they couldn’t handle their duties.

He’d seen it happen with his own eyes, so he knew it was true. The Navy weeded those people out in promotion cycles just like the one that he was about to go through. With everything stacked against him, he was pretty sure that it was his turn to be rejected for his shortcomings.

“You’re going to be fine,” India told him firmly. “Approach this like you would any other tactical problem. You can win this fight. No matter what the admiral has in mind, this meeting is going to be your chance to convince her that you’re the man for the job. Don’t blow it by acting as if the fight is already lost.

“This isn’t a time to be timid, Jack. By your thinking, it can hardly make things worse, right? Go for broke.”

He almost sighed at her words. He’d become more than a little risk-averse since the close call with the liner, and India hadn’t been shy about telling him how that didn’t work for a Navy captain.

She was right. In a fight, a timid commander was a dead one.

He suspected that nothing would change what the admiral had in mind for him, but he could approach the situation as if he had control of his own fate. What would it cost him in the end? If they were going to beach him, they’d do so no matter what he said.

“You’re right,” he admitted. “Thanks.”

“I am right. Mark my words. And that dashing beard and mustache you grew on this cruise certainly can’t hurt.”

That made him smile. India had encouraged him to give facial hair a try, and he had to admit that he liked the look, as long as he kept it neatly trimmed.

“With my luck, she’ll fire me just for that. If she does, I’m blaming you.”

“You’ll be fine, Jack,” she said with a final squeeze of his arm before she returned to her console.

He watched her for a few moments and smiled. She was one hell of an executive officer and would make a terrific captain one day. Much better than he’d been. She was an amazing officer.

The next two hours passed without any issues, and Faust grew larger on the screen.

“We’ve got an approach vector, Captain,” Alexey said. “We’re coming straight in and will make a pass by the Locust War Museum.”

“Very good,” Jack said. “Put it on screen as we pass.”

Having grown up on Faust, Jack had visited the museum as a kid, as most schools arranged trips to the massive warship. His memories of the experience were vague, but he clearly remembered the excitement of the trip.

His father had been a junior officer back in those days and hadn’t been home, but his mother had made sure that she’d primed him with everything she could learn about the old battleship in the days leading up to the trip.

He’d forgotten most of it in the years since, though he’d had tactical training about the Locusts and the invasion when he joined the Navy.

Massive warships like the decommissioned Delta Orionis had fought and defeated the robotic Locusts when they invaded the nearby Perseus Cluster two hundred years ago. The mechanical probes had taken over most of the cluster, destroying everything in space as they went, by the time the Confederation had been able to mount an effective defense.

Delta Orionis had been the first of the Hunter-class battleships. A mobile battle platform of almost unimaginable destructive potential. She’d helped prevent the Locusts from making the jump out of the Perseus Cluster and into the rest of the Confederation. As more battleships came online, they’d been able to push the robotic probes back and eventually exterminate them.

That had been the heyday of the Confederation Navy. Those men and women had been the heroes that saved humanity from whatever fate the robots had intended. Since then everything for the Navy had been a slow slide into ignominy.

Maintaining a powerful Navy took willpower and lots of money. The Confederation had kept up their resolve for decades after the invasion, fearful that another was right on its heels. When one failed to materialize, the spigots that had kept the Navy afloat had begun to shut off.

Now, two hundred years later, the Navy was a pale shadow of its former self. Yes, their warships were state-of-the-art and had weapons designed to handle another Locust invasion, should one come, but their number had dwindled with every passing decade.

At this point, even though the number was classified, Jack would’ve been shocked if there were more than three hundred cruisers in service across the whole Confederation. The sector centered on Faust had around six dozen.

He was glad that the Locusts didn’t seem to have had a return trip on their dance cards because he wasn’t convinced humanity could stand them off again.

“Take us as close as you safely can when we pass, Alexey,” he ordered. “Let’s give the old girl a good look.”

His helm officer grinned. “Aye, sir. One flyby coming up.”

The old warship trailed the Confederation Naval Headquarters in the same orbit. It never ceased to make him chuckle to see how the warship dwarfed the Navy station.

It wasn’t that headquarters was small. Rather, Delta Orionis was huge.

Built from a hollowed-out nickel-iron asteroid more than two kilometers long and almost a kilometer across, the vast warship mounted more lasers and missile batteries than could easily be counted, even by his ship’s advanced sensors.

That was partly because they were all nestled deep inside protective pits to keep them safe from enemy fire, but it was also because their number seemed to be never-ending. He was certain that he’d been told how many missile and laser batteries the battleship had once boasted when he’d taken the tour all those years ago, but he didn’t remember now.

It had undoubtedly been in the thousands. Possibly the tens of thousands. The weapons were far more primitive than what the Navy used these days, but as they said, quantity has a quality all its own.

The problem with fighting the Locusts was that their motherships had arrived in the cluster using some form of hyperspace travel that allowed them to move faster than light. No one had known they were coming. Once they’d arrived, each of the motherships had disgorged a swarm of small craft that washed over every space-based artificial structure in the affected systems.

They’d destroyed indiscriminately, tearing down mining structures in the belts, civilian stations in orbit around planets, warships sent to stop them, and civilians trying to flee.

Each of the drones mounted a single weak laser that, by itself, was a minimal threat, but hundreds or thousands of them firing at you would kill you just as surely as a more powerful weapon.

The Navy of the day hadn’t had anything that could stand up to them. They’d lost fight after fight and had conceded system after system. The Locusts had proved intelligent enough to figure out how to use the Confederation’s quantum gate network to follow their enemies and seize other systems without traversing the distance between them.

Only the arrival of the first hastily built battleship—the aforementioned Delta Orionis—had stopped them from breaking out of the Perseus Cluster and destroying humanity.

Delta Orionis had held the line while other battleships were rushed into service and sent into the fray. It took years to finally destroy the Locusts and all their motherships, but these vessels had managed it through raw offensive power and the ability to absorb punishing damage.

They’d been the premier posting for decades after the war, but those vessels took a lot to maintain, and without a driving need, they were retired one by one until all of them were out of service.

The Navy’s designers had built ships like his cruiser to handle the return of the Locusts if that ever happened. Hawkwing had two dozen phased packet plasma guns—which were far more powerful than the ancient lasers on the battleships, and able to fire much more quickly—so she was more than capable of defending against a swarm of Locust drones if called upon. There was simply no need for the gargantuan warships anymore, which was a damned pity.

Jack was glad that the Confederation had kept Delta Orionis as a museum. He didn’t know where the other eleven battleships had gone after the war, but at least one of them still served a purpose, and that had to count for something.

Their time had passed, but they’d served the Confederation well. They deserved his respect, and this final flyby would be his salute.

The sunlight reflecting off the museum grew as they approached Faust. Using magnification, they could see the Confederation Naval Sector Headquarters and the massive battleship trailing it around the green and blue world that he’d grown up on.

Faust was very much like Earth and had a population in the tens of billions. The surface he could see was shrouded in darkness and littered with glittering gemstones that were, in reality, massive cities. It was a beautiful world, and he was glad to have the opportunity to visit it once again, even under these circumstances.

Alexey brought Hawkwing down into the orbit Delta Orionis followed and approached the old warship from the rear. The massive asteroid ship filled their screen in minutes, and he was looking at the gargantuan fusion drives required to move that incredible mass.

They couldn’t have propelled the ship to another star system in a human being’s lifetime, of course, but the vessel had more than enough space for the Navy to build an equally outsized quantum drive inside her that was capable of jumping the entire asteroid from one system to another without a gate. That was a horrendously expensive piece of equipment, but even tight-fisted governments coughed up the money when faced with mass extermination.

Other than the Hunter-class battleships, fully independent quantum drives that generated their own quantum tunnels were restricted to exploratory vessels. Those purpose-built ships could explore a new system, and if the target was worthy of colonization, place and activate a matched pair of quantum gates to establish a means for ships with standard quantum drives to get there.

Once the gates were up and running, no further intervention was required, and that new system was linked to the rest of the Confederation from then on. Ships with the more limited standard quantum drives could use the quantum tunnel generated by the gates since they were incapable of generating one themselves.

Sadly, the Confederation wasn’t expanding these days, so he doubted there were any exploratory vessels still in service. That was another cost-cutting measure, he was sure. The Confederation had entered a state of decline. They were contracting rather than growing, and that wasn’t a good sign.

“Flash the running lights in salute as we pass, Alexey. Let’s show our respect.”

“Respect, sir?” his helm officer asked. “Her glory days are long past. She’s just a hunk of metal now. I’m surprised they haven’t melted her down for the raw materials.”

“That’s the thing about glory, my young friend,” Jack said with a smile. “It doesn’t have an expiration date. People forget, and memories dim, but that doesn’t take anything away from what that ship and her crew did for the Confederation. They have my respect, and they should have yours. Salute Delta Orionis as we pass.”

“Aye, sir,” he said, shaking his head.

Jack put the exchange out of his mind and focused on the massive warship as Alexey brought them past her. He could see the numerous pits that contained her lasers and missile batteries.

Movable nickel-iron plates protected them from casual damage, if not direct hits. It seemed like a good system, but it was primitive. Back in those days, it just needed to work, not look good.

The asteroid’s surface was scarred by the strikes of innumerable lasers. Each had dug visible furrows in its surface, leaving the vessel marred but not breaking through to the critical sections deep inside her.

“She looks like hell, doesn’t she, Ahmed?” Jack asked.

His tactical officer, Lieutenant Commander Ahmed Adel, nodded. “They really chewed her up, sir. Not sure we’d come out looking as pretty, even with our high-tech weapons.”

The darkly handsome man’s chilling admission put a damper on Jack’s enthusiasm since it matched his own fears. He hoped that his ship would never be put to the test. God willing, the Locusts would never return.

Passing over the surface of the old warship took a lot longer than Jack had expected, even at their speed, but once it was done, they settled into their assigned parking orbit near headquarters, and he ordered Hawkwing into station-keeping mode.

The massive space station that housed the Navy leadership in the sector hung less than ten kilometers distant. It was a symbol of the power and authority of the Confederation Navy. Jack only wished that they’d spent the money it had cost to build it on warships and the trained crews to run them.

Satisfied that Hawkwing was where she needed to be, he found the communications controls on the arm of his chair and activated the ship-wide channel, bringing every speaker and personal comm to life.

“All hands, this is your captain. We’ve safely arrived at Faust, and it’s time for me to report to headquarters. It has been my distinct privilege to serve alongside you. You’ve been an excellent crew, and I know that you’re going to impress your new commanding officer. The last two years have been a pleasure for me, and you’ve made my job easy. For that, I thank you. Good luck and fair winds. Romanoff out.”

He looked at his command team and smiled. “The same is doubly true of you three. Thanks for your support and encouragement. I hope to see you around, but if I don’t, know that I’ll never forget you.”

He got to his feet and headed for the hatch at the back of the bridge, feeling as if he were marching to his own execution.

India fell in at his side and wordlessly accompanied him to the small craft bay at the ship’s center. There he found the ship’s small Marine complement decked out in their dress uniforms and armed with rifles.

“Attention!” the senior Marine officer, Lieutenant Larry Kroll, shouted. Then he turned to face Jack, drew his dress sword, and brought it in front of his face in a sharp salute.

Jack returned the salute—with his hand—and smiled.

Once Kroll had sheathed his sword, Jack extended his hand to the officer. “It’s been a pleasure, Larry. Try to keep your folks from getting too rambunctious on leave this time if your new captain cuts you loose.”

The corners of the short man’s mouth twitched. Marines in general—and the ones aboard Hawkwing in particular—loved their drink just a little too much, and when they got lubricated, they liked to fight.

“Trust me, sir. I’ve got my eyes on them.”

“Good man.”

And with that, Jack walked between the lines of marines and boarded the cutter.

India stopped at the hatch and saluted. “No matter what happens, own it, Jack. Go make us proud.”

He returned her salute. “Good luck, India. Show the new commander that you’ve got what it takes to get a command of your own. If anyone’s ever going to make flag officer, I suspect it’s you.”

Then he closed the hatch and sat as the Navy pilot up front started bringing the cutter to life. It was time to beard the lioness in her den and see if she intended to eat him.

2

Jack’s arrival aboard headquarters was anticlimactic. He’d expected someone to meet him, but he’d arrived unheralded and unnoticed.

Not a good sign.

Arrivals and departures on a station this size made for a lot of people coming and going, and he was just one of many travelers. He was instantly lost in the crowd, and strangely, that made him feel better.

The deeper he got into the station, the more anxiety he felt. Despite his brave words and India’s encouragement, he had no doubt that this meeting would be an unpleasant one.

Instead of thinking about what was to come, he focused his attention on the people around him. There were a lot of them. More than he’d ever seen here before.

Considering how few ships the Navy had in the area, it was a bit incongruous. The operational side of the Navy was heavily restricted and the competition to be aboard one of the ships was fierce.

Yet here in sector headquarters, the corridors were stuffed with people. What did they all do?

He understood that ships required a support structure to operate effectively, but there had to be thousands of people aboard this one space station. They couldn’t all be doing tasks related to supporting the ships working in this sector.

More interestingly, many of them were civilians.

Thinking about that kept him occupied until he arrived at Vice Admiral Suzanne LaChasse’s office. Her aide, a somewhat distracted young man with lieutenant’s tabs, was trying to keep control of the desk in front of her door.

It looked to Jack as if he was failing in that task because the comm unit continually went off, and the aide was fielding the various calls ineffectively, appearing to fall further behind every second.

When Jack stepped up in front of the man, he glanced up and muted the call he was attempting to handle. “I’m sorry, sir. The admiral is very busy right now. You’re going to have to come back later.”

Jack raised an eyebrow and shook his head. “Sorry, Lieutenant… Funigiello,” he said, reading the man’s name off of his uniform. “My orders are to report as soon as possible. I’ll take a seat over there while you let the admiral know that I’m here.”

Not that he really wanted to sit around waiting for the admiral’s pleasure, but that was generally what one did. A flag officer’s time was limited, and one always ended up waiting for them to have a moment to speak with you.

In this case, since the news was likely going to be bad, he wasn’t exactly in a rush to get this meeting over with. Which ended up being a good thing because it was almost an hour before the aide gestured for him to go into the admiral’s office.

The aide had dealt with a deluge of calls the entire time. Jack was astounded that anyone here got any work done. The only thing worse were meetings that could’ve been handled via message.

Taking a breath to stiffen his resolve, Jack walked to the door and knocked twice. When he heard a woman’s voice telling him to enter, he opened the door and stepped inside.

The admiral’s office was… expansive. Space on board a cruiser was in high demand, and his office had been barely large enough to hold his desk and two visitors.

The admiral’s office seemed large enough to hold his entire cruiser.

That was an exaggeration, of course, but not much of one. The office had to be thirty meters across, and the window behind the admiral’s desk was a tall, wide affair that offered an incredible view of Faust. Jack felt dwarfed by the space.

Unlike the outer office, the admiral’s office was serene. Her comm unit was silent, her attention focused entirely on him. The remains of a meal sat on a tray to the side of her desk. She’d been enjoying a leisurely lunch while he’d been cooling his heels.

Once again, such was the way of flag officers, but it lowered his expectations even further.

Jack marched to the desk and braced to attention. “Captain Jack Romanoff reporting as ordered, ma’am.”

Admiral LaChasse sat like an eagle perched behind her desk, her face lined and her hair more than a bit grey. Her blue eyes seemed cold and predatory as they took him in.

She gave him a perfunctory look and allowed a few seconds to pass before responding. “At ease, Captain. I apologize for the wait, but you came at a hectic time. I’m afraid that as much as I wish I could extend our conversation, we’re going to have to work through this quickly.”

She reached over and rested her hand on a white folder sitting on her desk. His heart froze in his chest. A white folder meant a promotion. If he was being let go, the folder would’ve been red. Had he read the situation wrong?

“I’m sure that you’re eager to get on with this, so let’s cut right to the chase,” the admiral said as she reached over and touched one of the buttons on her comm unit. “Send him in.”

The door behind Jack opened again, and he glanced over his shoulder to see the thin man in a Navy uniform with a commander’s tabs stepping through. The man’s hair was dark and had a sheen that implied he used some kind of gel to hold it precisely in place. His face reminded Jack of a weasel, and his thin mustache didn’t do anything to dispel the notion.

“Captain Jack Romanoff, meet Commander Ronnie Magri. He’s going to be taking over your position as commanding officer of Hawkwing.

“Perhaps his last name sounds familiar. His grandfather was the founder of Magri Holdings. He comes from a very prominent family on Faust, and I have every confidence that he’s going to command Hawkwing with distinction.”

And with that, the admiral picked up the white folder and handed it to Magri. “Congratulations on your promotion, Captain Magri.”

The man’s smile was both ingratiating and superior. “Thank you, Admiral. I assure you that I’ll take care of any messes that Captain Romanoff has left behind. Hawkwing will be ready for whatever mission you send her on in short order. You have my word as a Magri.”

Well, that was as insulting as hell.

“I can assure you, Captain Magri, that Hawkwing is in excellent shape,” Jack said in an even tone. “Her officers and crew are the best that the Navy has to offer. They’ll do everything you need and do it well.”

“We’ll see about that after I take her on a shakedown cruise and inspection, Romanoff. One that I’ll start the moment I board my ship. Whatever slack you’ve allowed aboard her, Hawkwing will be brought up to my standards for specifications as fast as humanly possible.”

Before Jack could decide how he wanted to react, the admiral opened a drawer on her desk and pulled out one of the dreaded red folders. She slid it across the desk toward Jack, and he picked it up reflexively.

“It saddens me to say that your services are no longer required by the Confederation Navy, Captain Romanoff. You are hereby ordered to report to out-processing and present your final orders to them in an expeditious manner. I appreciate the decades that you’ve given the Navy and salute you for them.

“I truly do wish that I’d been able to promote you to commodore, but I’m afraid that wasn’t to be,” she added in a tone that didn’t sound the least bit regretful. “You were a marked man the moment you almost hit that liner. While I’d hoped that you’d take that as a salutary lesson, it only turned you into a risk averse officer going through the motions. That’s not the kind of person we need as a flag officer in the Confederation Navy.”

“I see things differently, Admiral,” he said deferentially, ready to follow India’s advice and fight. “I think my experience makes me an excellent candidate for a flag position. I’ve performed every mission assigned to me with distinction, and I bring everything you’d want as a commodore to the table.”

Admiral LaChasse raised an eyebrow. “Do you, now? I’ll admit that I didn’t anticipate you standing up for yourself, but I don’t think you understand the needs of the service as well as you think you do. Tell me, how much would your promotion add to the bottom line in this sector?”

He frowned in confusion. “I don’t think I understand. Which bottom line?”

“And thus, you prove my point. Captain Magri’s family donated two hundred and fifty thousand Confederation dollars to the headquarters general fund to give him the best chance at receiving this promotion. Not that he’d have gotten it if he hadn’t been capable of performing the duties, you understand.”

The officer in question didn’t even have the grace to look embarrassed that his family had bought his position for him. In fact, it seemingly made him proud.

The smug, entitled little git.

“I don’t have that kind of money, and I don’t think I’d be comfortable paying a bribe to get the position in any case,” Jack said.

“More proof that you don’t understand the realities of life in the Confederation Navy as it currently exists,” LaChasse said with a sigh. “With the budget getting leaner every year, each sector is left to raise whatever funds it can in the most creative ways it can think of.

“Perhaps you’ve noticed the rise in civilians aboard the station? Competitive bidding has allowed me to fill the ranks on the support side with civilians whose salary is paid by the contract holders. Not only do I get more official money to work with, but I curry favor with those who will be looking for a woman of my talents when I retire in a few years.”

The woman visibly sniffed. “Not that I expect you to understand the need for any of that. In any case, the current bid on the only open commodore’s slot in this sector is more than half a million Confederation dollars. That number will undoubtedly rise quite a bit before I select the most capable candidate in a few months. The lesson here is that you have to be willing to pay to serve these days, Captain.

“Promotions aren’t something given to just anyone. You have to make your own opportunities and then seize them with both hands, wresting them from those who would keep them from you. Passivity will gain you nothing in life. Go big or go home, as they say.”

Her words made him nauseous, but he said nothing. What could he say?

She watched him for a few moments before shaking her head. “If you can’t bend the rules to get what you want, you have to be willing to risk a toss of the dice to get what your command needs. Because the Confederation Council certainly isn’t going to give it to you, and neither is Navy command.

“Your inability to even understand that is why you have no place in our ranks.”

“I suppose not,” Jack admitted. “The Navy I served believed in honor and duty, not simply who paid the most.”

“Point more than proven,” the admiral said in a firm tone. “On your way, Romanoff. Good luck in civilian life. Pass my regards to your father when you see him.”

From the inflection she’d used, she meant the opposite.

“Perhaps when you get down to Faust, you should look up my grandfather,” Magri added with a hint of a sneer. “He’s always looking for paper pushers.”

Rather than respond to the taunt, Jack braced to attention, turned on his heel, and marched out of the admiral’s office.

His face burned with fury. He’d given decades of his life to the Confederation Navy only to be dismissed because he couldn’t—wouldn’t—pay the bribe demanded to keep serving. As if she’d have allowed him to even if he’d had the financial resources or willingness to compromise his honor like that.

The only reason the admiral would’ve brought Magri into that meeting was so that she could humiliate Jack. It was a message all right, but it wasn’t for him. It was for his father.

But no matter how angry this situation made him, there was nothing he could do about it. What was done was done. His time in the Navy was over.

Processing out of the service would only take a short while, and then he could figure out what to do with the rest of his life. He had no idea what that might be because even though he’d expected to be beached, he hadn’t wanted to even think about the possibility.

Now he had no choice. He was a civilian, and civilians needed jobs to pay for their basic needs. Like a place to stay, food, and clothes. He certainly didn’t want to have to live with his parents. He loved his mother dearly, but the mere thought of being in his father’s presence for more than a few minutes made his stomach churn.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made Jack turn his head as he walked. He found a rather rotund man with white hair floating around his head walking beside him. He was dressed in rumpled civilian clothes that oddly mirrored his hair’s behavior.

“Excuse me for disturbing you, Captain, but I wonder if I might have a moment of your time,” the man said smoothly.

Jack almost blew him off but then shrugged. It wasn’t like he had anything more pressing on his schedule.

“Sure. Are you lost? I can probably see that you get to where you need to be.”

The man smiled, showing his even white teeth. “Oh no, but thank you for that kindness. I’m quite conversant with headquarters. I actually wanted to invite you to sit down and have something to eat while I made you an offer.”

Jack frowned slightly, his steps faltering. “I don’t understand. What kind of offer?”

The older man gestured at the red folder that Jack was carrying under one arm. “A job offer, Captain Romanoff. One that might just short-circuit the no doubt negative thoughts that are running through your mind right now and give us both an opportunity to get what we want.”

Jack opened his mouth to respond but realized that he’d come to a stop and was blocking traffic. He stepped off to the side of the corridor.

Only when the flow of people had reestablished itself did he speak. “Forgive my bluntness, but who are you and what do you want?”

“My name is Doctor Alan Prescott, and I head the Locust War Historical Society. I find myself in need of a senior Navy officer, and I think you might be that man. Are you in such a hurry to get out of the Navy that you don’t want to at least hear what I have to say?”

Jack stood there, flabbergasted. He’d heard of the LWHS, of course. They operated all of the historical displays about the Locust War in the Confederation and maintained the Delta Orionis Museum. What he didn’t understand was why they needed a Navy officer. Or, more specifically, him, since this encounter seemed planned.

But the man was right about him being in a hurry to get out of the Navy. So what did it hurt to hear him out? Jack doubted very seriously that Prescott actually had the authority to countermand the orders in his dreaded red folder, but his schedule was open.

“I do happen to find myself with a little bit of free time on my hands,” Jack admitted. “Where would you like to go to make your pitch? Someplace that has sandwiches, I hope. Lunch was a long time ago, and I’m starving.”

3

Prescott led Jack deeper into the bowels of the station than he’d ever gone before. All of his past visits had either been to receive briefings as part of a task force or as a junior officer on his way from one ship to another.

Oh, there’d been times where he’d been sent to the supply depot to try to bully parts out of recalcitrant supply clerks, but those had been few and far between. That kind of thing was generally best left in the hands of experienced noncommissioned personnel. Those guys knew how to talk to one another.

If an officer tried to intimidate a supply clerk, odds were good that the clerk would just dig in their heels. They weren’t in the same chain of command, and you couldn’t make them do anything they didn’t want to.

Jack was tempted to ask Prescott where they were going but decided that it really didn’t matter. Instead, he played tourist and gawked at the parts of the station he’d never seen before.

Not that they were shining examples of the very best that humanity could offer. It was kind of the opposite, actually. The farther off the beaten path they got, the dingier the corridors became and the dimmer the lighting got.

The people around them remained civilians, but it was obvious that they were not well-to-do. Their clothes were shabbier than he’d seen in the main corridors, and they seemed a bit more… furtive.

He was about to ask the other man what the hell was going on when they turned into what certainly looked like a mom-and-pop restaurant. Or maybe restaurant was too grand a word.

A haggard-looking yet cheerful middle-aged man behind the counter waved at them and gestured toward an open table. The place was packed, and everyone was talking as they ate. The difference from outside made it seem like walking into a completely different environment.

Prescott waved cheerfully at the man and snagged two menus from a pile on the counter, then he gestured for Jack to sit and joined him. “It’s going to take them a couple of minutes to get to us, so you’ve got plenty of time to peruse the menu. Let me give you some friendly advice up front. If they recommend the chili, I’d try something else. It’s a trap.

“Don’t get me wrong, their chili is excellent, but it’s extremely spicy. Unless you’re a connoisseur of that kind of thing, pick something more pedestrian. The sandwiches are first-rate, as are the burgers on most days.”

Jack raised an eyebrow at the man. “It sounds like you’re here enough to know the ropes.”

“When you have a limited budget, you learn where to go. After they get to know you here, they don’t try to overcharge you or steer you into something that will be… gastronomically problematic. And before you ask, they prefer a certain type of clientele. Senior Navy officers aren’t typically among them. They’ve got their reasons, but that’s not really relevant to why we’re here, is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Jack said as he skimmed his menu. “I thought I knew everything there was to know about the Confederation Navy, but it seems I was wrong. There’s a dark side that I never dreamed existed. Somehow, I suspect this place is part of that.”

Prescott considered his words and slowly nodded. “In a way, I suppose that’s possible. I don’t know what you’re referring to, but this kind of thing is collateral damage from the rot that’s taking place.”

Before Jack could answer, a young man in a stained white apron holding a half-used pad of paper and an old-fashioned pencil stepped up to the table. He smiled at Prescott and inclined his head toward Jack.

“Welcome to O’Shaughnessy’s. What can I get you and your guest, Professor?”

“I think I’ll take the chili, Gary. I’m feeling adventurous. Make sure to include plenty of that amazing bread of yours to help take the sting out of my questionable life choices. And whatever beer you have on tap will do.”

Prescott lifted his chin in Jack’s direction. “And this is my potential associate, Jack Romanoff. He’s had a really bad day, so I’m going to ask that you go easy on him as a personal favor to me.”

The waiter nodded, his eyes flicking to the red folder that Jack had set on the table. “Anything for you, Professor. I’ll be your personal Sherpa today, Captain Romanoff. You tell me what kind of food you want, and I’ll make sure there are no unpleasant surprises.”

“Do you have many unpleasant surprises here?”

The waiter spread his hands slightly. “You’ve got to think of eating at O’Shaughnessy’s as kind of like an adventure. Depending on the day, you can never really be sure what you’re getting. It’s kind of like that whole mystery meat thing. We do the best we can with what we have, but you pay your money and take your chances.”

Jack wasn’t sure he agreed with a food lottery, but he gestured for the man to continue.

“Because the professor has been a good friend to me and my boss over the years, and he’s asked nicely, I’m going to do you a solid and steer you in the right direction.

“Are you a fan of burgers? We got some fresh Faustian beef in this morning. I recommend an extra-thick burger cooked up just the way you like it. Any of the fixings are yours for the taking.”

“Such as?”

“We’ve got half a dozen kinds of cheese, all the way from plain to spicy, some excellent mustards, though some of them might be just a little hot. The lettuce is passable today, but I’d stay away from the tomatoes. As for sides, you can’t go wrong with fries. You tell me how you want them, and I’ll make the magic happen.”

Jack set the menu down and nodded. “I’ll take a burger, nice and thick, cooked medium with a slice of something that’ll go well with the bread and meat. Add some medium mustard and some lettuce. Top it off with some crisp fries and whatever beer the professor is having.”

“You got it.” The young man scribbled on his notepad for a moment, smiled at them both, and then headed back toward the kitchen.

Jack turned his attention back to Prescott. “So why would an officer in the Confederation Navy be taking his life in his hands coming to a restaurant aboard headquarters? I don’t get it.”

Prescott took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I suppose the changes started seven or eight years ago. Do you keep an eye on the Confederation budget, by chance? No? Well, there were deep cuts for the Navy about that time. A number of ships were released from service, and the senior admiral here began looking for ways to save money.

“There is always a certain level of graft in the military. Perhaps you haven’t encountered it, but it’s always been there. That was the time it really gained a foothold here.

“There are certain organizations in the civilian world that want more access to the military side of things, and they’re willing to pay to get it. Such partnerships help the admiral alleviate some of the aforementioned budget shortfalls but come with deleterious side effects.”

The older man sighed and shook his head. “The problem is that the new players cut corners because they’re not here to lose money. That means that these organizations can coerce people into jobs to pay off debts that they have. That brings them here and makes them dependent on their bosses.

“I’m afraid that headquarters has turned into a company town. Prices for even the most basic things are high for these people, which keeps them trapped. You see, they’re responsible for paying their own room and board.”

Jack opened his mouth to argue but realized he really had no idea what went on aboard this station. This could very well have been going on for years, and he just hadn’t realized it. The commanding officer of a ship of war was somewhat insulated, it seemed.

He’d heard about company towns in history lessons. Slavery by another name. If that was really the case here, he didn’t know who the hell the Navy was anymore. How could something like that have been allowed to happen?

The server returned with two mugs of beer and set them down before heading off to serve another table. Jack sampled the beer tentatively and found it passable. Certainly not the best that he’d ever had, but not the worst by far.

“So, the young man called you professor. You call yourself doctor. Which is it?”

“Both, actually. I taught on Faust for many years before I accepted the position I currently hold. I never had the pleasure of being one of Gary’s teachers, but he must’ve heard somebody talking about my time at the university. My background is in xenoarchaeology.

“I suppose the most accurate title for me at this point would be director, though I’m loathe to use it. I discovered about ten years ago that if you complain about something strenuously enough—and for long enough—the powers that be will offer you the opportunity to fix it. In case you’re wondering, that can be far less satisfying than one might imagine.”

Jack had had his own share of similar disappointments, so he could sympathize.

“I was displeased at the amount of research being done into the Locusts and the Locust War—basically none—and railing about the fact that they lacked a director for the Locust War Historical Society with the qualifications to actually perform that necessary work,” Prescott said. “The Locusts were the product of an alien civilization—something the Confederation has never found other signs of—and it’s inexcusable that we aren’t learning everything we can from what the war left us to study.

“I became such a thorn in the side of the Confederation Council that they offered me the directorship of the LWHS. Like a credulous fool, I accepted, and here we are.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “If you got exactly what you wanted, why does that make you a fool?”

Prescott inclined his beer toward Jack. “Beware of what you ask for, young man. If you’re damned unlucky, you might just get it in full measure. I now hold the position to do the job, but I don’t have the budget to do the work, so I’m trapped in much the same way your admiral is. Oh, I’ve found more palatable ways to close the budget gap, but making me the director of the LWHS was an excellent way to stop my complaints because now my reports vanish into some dark hole where I’d wager no one ever reads them.

“In fact, considering some of the outrageous claims I’ve made over the years without hearing a peep in response, I’m certain of it.”

“You’re not doing the best job of convincing me to come work for you.”

Prescott chuckled. “There’s some truth to that, I’ll admit. Nevertheless, we each find ourselves with an opportunity at hand. I believe that you should hear me out before making a final decision.”

The server returned bearing a tray with their food. He set a bowl of steaming chili in front of Prescott and placed a platter of what looked like homemade bread beside it.

Jack got a burger that looked delicious. He picked it up, took a bite, and was pleased with the texture of the bread and the taste of the meat. It might not have been the best burger he’d ever eaten, but it certainly ranked up there. The fries were crisp on the outside and tender in the middle, just the way he liked them.

Jack gave the server a thumbs-up, and the man smiled as he headed off to look after someone else.

The men dug into their food rather than continue their conversation. Jack watched perspiration break out on Prescott’s forehead as he ate the chili. It had to be significantly spicier than a run-of-the-mill mixture.

It took them about twenty minutes to finish their meal, and Jack was still enjoying his fries when Prescott set his bowl aside and drank the last of his beer.

“I’ll just lay my offer out for you,” Prescott said after wiping his mouth with his napkin. “The LWHS manages all of the museums across the Confederation that deal with the Locust War. Our biggest attraction is, of course, the Delta Orionis Museum. Have you ever visited?”

“When I was a kid,” Jack said with a nod. “And we flew by her on the way in just a few hours ago. She’s quite the sight.”

“Did you know that she’s still assigned to the Confederation Navy? Her status is mothballed, but she hasn’t been decommissioned.”

Jack blinked. “I hadn’t realized that. So that means there has to be a Navy crew over there somewhere, right?”

“Of a sort. Not nearly enough people to do the work that needs doing, and they have issues that occasionally need to be dealt with, but we do have a small cadre of Navy officers and crew. And that’s actually where I hope you come into the picture.

“You see, the old battleships—all of them—are technically mothballed and subject to recall. That’s very unlikely to happen considering the condition the ships are in, I suspect, but the battleship division is meant to be under the authority of a senior Navy officer.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “I’ll assume from your tone that that hasn’t been the case.”

“There hasn’t been a senior officer assigned to command the battleship division in over a hundred and thirty years,” Prescott said with a sigh. “The Navy decided back when they were mothballed that they could get by with a commodore.

“Over time, the rank of the senior officer has notched slowly downward until, at this point, the senior Navy officer assigned to oversee all the ships is a lieutenant. Not that she sees to any of the ships other than Hunter.”

Jack took a moment to drink the last of his beer, then set the mug back on the table and considered the other man. “Hunter?”

“The war crew called her that. Delta Orionis is a star in Orion the Hunter’s belt, as seen from Earth. It’s also the name of the class of battleships. Nicknames for warships were common back then. Has that changed?”

“I suppose it has,” Jack admitted. “I don’t know of any modern ships with nicknames one would actually want to share. Perhaps I’m missing something, but the Navy still assigns the officers in question to this post, don’t they?”

Prescott nodded. “They do, and you can rest assured that they have assigned people who don’t fit well into other organizations, if you know what I mean. Working with them requires some mental gymnastics, but we mostly manage.”

“I’ll bet. You know the admiral won’t waste the money for a captain’s salary on that kind of position. She’s already sent me to out-processing, so I don’t imagine that she’ll change her mind. If anything, she’ll be looking for someone to buy that commission.”

“Did you know that that sort of thing used to be common in some militaries back on pre-spaceflight Earth?” Prescott asked with a professorial air. “Unlike today, those who bought their commissions were required to outfit their new units and gained political power from that service. Now? Well, it’s more graft than anything else.

“In any case, I suppose it’s a good thing that we don’t need to discuss the matter with her. You see, the billet for the division’s commanding officer was provided for when the ships were mothballed. That worthy reports directly to the grand admiral, not Vice Admiral LaChasse.”

The older man smiled more than a bit smugly. “I suppose that would be something of a shock to the current grand admiral since there hasn’t been anyone in that position for longer than he’s been alive. But if one looks at the organizational chart’s footnotes, the position is there.

“Here’s a free tip that I learned as an educator. No one ever reads the footnotes. You can put outrageous things into them with impunity.”

Jack tipped his chair back slightly. “Someone would have to cut orders for me to take over that position, and I assure you that Admiral LaChasse wouldn’t be willing to do it. As the grand admiral wouldn’t know me from Adam, exactly how would this work?”

“As you’ve probably already guessed, that’s where your father comes in. As a former grand admiral, he has a lot of connections inside the organization. Because of the many presentations I gave the Navy about the Locusts over the last twenty years, he must have become somewhat familiar with me, and we spoke at length about my problems.

“I wouldn’t say he believes everything I’ve been warning them about, but he was open to the idea that my suspicions should be investigated further. Before his retirement, he issued orders to fill the open slot to help me get to the bottom of everything.”

Jack was somewhat surprised to hear that his father had been so accommodating. He’d never found the man to be that way.

“Rather than pushing them through the chain of command,” Prescott continued, “he delivered them directly to me. You see, that was his condition for assisting me. When the time came that you were going to be cashiered from the service—that was his opinion of what would happen, and sadly, it proved correct—I was to bring the offer to you, and only you.

“Do you see my predicament? I have to convince you to help me, or all of that preparatory work will have been for nothing.”

Jack sighed. Of course his father had expected him to fail. He seemingly always did.

He opened his mouth to object that his father hadn’t been grand admiral for five years, so any orders he issued couldn’t be valid, but then he closed it again. His father was a devious man, so he’d undoubtedly have thought of a way around that limitation.

Somehow.

“I think I’d best see those orders.”

“Actually, I think the first thing you should do is decide whether you’re interested in the position at all,” Prescott said seriously. “While I’m not privy to everything that happens on this station—or in the Navy in general—I’d imagine there’s going to be quite an uproar if you take the position. You need to decide whether that’s something you want to be part of.

“And, of course, there’s your father. Again, I’m not privy to your relationship, but I’d imagine there’s some tension there. He’s gone behind your back to open this position for you, and I have no doubt that he’ll demand a price for doing so. Only you can decide if you’re willing to pay it.”

Jack set the front legs of his chair back on the floor, planted his elbow on the table, and cupped his chin in his hand. Then he closed his eyes and really thought the situation through.

If he turned this position down, it would be a finger in his father’s eye. The two of them didn’t get along, but Jack wasn’t willing to say no simply to spite him. After all, this opportunity wouldn’t come again.

Getting a position this way would infuriate Admiral LaChasse, and she’d make his life a living hell if she could. He was obstinate enough to know that he’d derive a perverse kind of pleasure from defying her.

Considering everything, he couldn’t bring himself to simply say no out of hand.

“Let me see the orders,” he repeated, opening his eyes.

Prescott reached into his jacket and pulled out a large envelope. It was made of thick, old-fashioned paper and sealed with wax that had been pressed flat with a seal that he recognized as that of the Grand Admiral’s office.

The seal was unbroken.

He’d literally never seen anything like it in his life. Orders were transmitted digitally and printed on ordinary paper. This was an extravagance beyond his imagining, particularly just as the container for the orders.

Using the blade of his knife—after cleaning it on his napkin—he carefully pried the seal up until it came loose from the paper. He could’ve snapped the wax in half, but that felt sacrilegious.

Inside the envelope was a folded piece of parchment. Actual parchment. It was adorned with ribbons and wax seals, too. He pulled it out and unfolded it, admiring the scent and feel of it. This was extremely old-fashioned.

Leaving aside the form they came in, the orders were straight and to the point. The Admiralty directed him to assume command of the Battleship Division of the Confederation Navy.

He immediately spotted the clause that was going to cause everyone’s hair to burst into flames. The orders did not become effective until the recipient—him in this case—received orders to process out of the service. In fact, they specifically said that they superseded any such orders.

Jack had no idea if that was legal. Even if it was, the sitting grand admiral could nullify it quickly enough.

But would he? Jack had to believe his father had considered that possibility. He’d known the current grand admiral for a long time, and it would shock Jack if the present holder of that office wasn’t aware of the orders in his hand.

His father had cut some kind of deal he thought would stand up under scrutiny, and Jack wasn’t willing to bet against the wily old bastard.

The real question was whether this was something he wanted to do. Was this secret task his father wanted him to undertake something that he could compromise his morals for if called upon?

He was about to say something to that effect when he noticed a slip of regular paper inside the envelope. He pulled it out and found a note from his father.

Jack,

I know that you have to be considering walking away from these orders, and I won’t pretend I don’t understand why.

In the end, it’s your call.

What I will do is tell you that I think that the information Doctor Prescott has turned up is concerning enough that he might need someone with your talents to help sort things out. Hell, if what he’s said turns out to be even partly true, the entire Confederation might be in desperate need of someone like you far sooner than any of us would want.

You can shred these orders if you like, and no one will ever be the wiser. But know that I ask you to take this position not only to support Doctor Prescott, but also to look into the battleships themselves.

I’m worried that something is going on in the battleship division, and I need you to get to the bottom of it. It has to be you, Jack. I can’t trust anyone else with something this delicate and potentially dangerous. I believe that the very safety of the Confederation may be at stake.

That’s no exaggeration, son. You have my word as a Navy officer that this is something worthy of your attention and a job that needs to be done by someone with the spine to stand up to an admiral.

I happen to know from personal experience that you’re that man.

Find out the truth of what’s happening and then do what’s right. That’s my personal and final order as Grand Admiral, and I hope that you’ll obey me for once.

Eric Romanoff

Grand Admiral, Confederation Navy

It was dated less than a month before his father retired.

Jack folded the note and put it into his uniform pocket. How like his father to sign a personal letter with his rank rather than just “Dad.”

He still wasn’t sure that this was the right choice, but now he was curious enough to start digging. Just as his father had known he would be.

“There’s one other perk that comes with the position,” Prescott said, interrupting his introspection. “It’s not explicitly spelled out in the orders, as I understand it, but it’s in the computer and attached to them. The Admiralty and Confederation Council never downgraded the official job requirements as last stated, so the orders include a promotion to commodore.”

Jack blinked. “Are you kidding me? There’s only one open slot in this sector—for an already established task force command—and Admiral LaChasse is accepting bids to fill it. The Admiralty doesn’t fill nonexistent slots.”

“As we previously discussed, the slot has always been there. It just hasn’t been filled in thirteen decades. It’s been held by acting commanders. Now, if you take the official position, that will change.

“The Confederation Council and the Admiralty have no say since the position already exists. Any grand admiral could have filled it. Now, your father has offered it to you if you want it. The rest is up to you.”

Jack thought about the situation. Part of him was elated at the idea of a promotion. He’d wanted to make it to flag officer, even if he’d imagined the situation being something radically different when the time came. How could he turn it down?

In the end, he decided that he couldn’t.

Jack extended his hand. “It looks like you’ve found your man, Professor. If you’re finished eating, we need to go to the personnel office so that I can start a riot.”

4

Jack led the way to the personnel section of the station with a lot more pep in his step than he’d had earlier. Before, it felt more like walking to his own execution. Now? He didn’t know how he’d describe his emotions.

He’d been in this part of the station a couple of times over the years to pick up newly arrived crew when he was a junior officer, but it had been a while. This time, the place felt, if anything, even more bureaucratic, cold, and impersonal.

The people working here were civilians rather than Navy, and that had always been the case. It was as if the Navy wanted to have others do their hiring and firing to keep their hands clean. That was fine by him today because it gave him a chance to pull a fast one.

When they reached the out-processing section of the rather large maze of cubicles and compartments, Jack turned to Prescott. “Here’s where things get dicey, Professor. Do you want to be in the middle of the screaming, or would you prefer to go get a drink and wait for this to all blow over?”

“Oh, I think I’d rather watch the circus, but like any knowledgeable spectator of such an institution, I’ll want to stay as far away from the monkey cages as possible. They throw poo, in case you didn’t know. Always best to make certain none of that sort of thing lands on you because you’ll never get the smell out. Why don’t I stay near the entrance where I can watch events unfold? When you’re ready to leave, we can head directly for the small craft bay where I have a cutter waiting to take us back to Hunter.

“If you concur, I’ll see that your luggage gets transferred to my cutter now. You wouldn’t want to be lacking undergarments, would you?”

Knowing a good idea when he heard it, Jack borrowed his comm and authorized the transfer. He’d have used his own, but he’d left it on Hawkwing since it was keyed for that ship and part of the inventory.

Prescott put a hand on Jack’s shoulder, and his smile widened a bit. “You’re only going to get one shot at the performance of a lifetime, my boy, so make sure you have a good time. And make it a clean fight. Don’t do or say anything that can be used against you later because you can rest assured that Admiral LaChasse will if she can.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “That almost sounded like the introductory rules of a boxing match, Professor. Are you sure you want to make that comparison? I can’t rule out punches being thrown.”

“Well, I suppose the possibility exists, but I believe we’ll mostly see red-faced shouting and threats of ruination. Though I suppose that I can’t really rule out you being tarred and feathered before being run out of town on a rail. On the off chance that someone does decide to take a swing at you, I’ll remind you of what your father likely told you as a boy. Don’t swing first, but if someone else starts a fight, I expect you to throw the last punch.”

Jack laughed. His father hadn’t said anything like that when he was growing up, but his mother had. Of his parents, she was by far the most pugnacious. She had, in fact, gotten into a brawl during a parent-teacher conference.

And she’d somehow managed to avoid being the first to swing while still ending the fight decisively. He truly hoped that he had the time to go down and see her once everything was settled.

While he could do without confronting his father, he doubted he could avoid him. Not this time. One more burden to bear.

“Your wish is my command,” Jack said as he handed the other man the red folder. “I think having this with me would probably cause more confusion than anything else at the moment, so I’ll leave it with you. If I need it, I’ll wave.”

The scientist took the folder and tucked it under his arm. Then he found a handy stretch of wall and leaned against it. He looked ready to be entertained, so it was up to Jack to provide a good show.

He found the line he was looking for and stood, waiting his turn to see the clerk. Of course there was only one on duty. That always seemed to be the way things like this worked.

Government bureaucracies and grocery stores never had enough clerks. It was some kind of universal constant.

The orders in the envelope would be in the computer somewhere. He knew that because there were identifying numbers at the top of the parchment. To activate the orders, the clerk would just have to enter them into the system.

Technically, Jack didn’t need to be in the out-processing section for this, but the admiral had been clear in telling him where to go to present his final set of orders. He decided there was a wicked kind of symmetry in honoring that directive while undermining her intent.

The line moved slowly enough that he had plenty of time to think everything over and reject various opening gambits as the people in front of him submitted their paperwork and left the Navy. Most of them looked aggrieved, but a few seemed pleased.

Good for them, leaving under their own terms.

Jack eventually reached the head of the line and waited patiently as the woman in front of him presented her orders to the clerk. He used a handheld wand to scan the barcode on the orders, and she headed out of the compartment a few moments later, her head held high and a sneer on her face.

“Next,” the clerk called out in a bored voice. When Jack didn’t move quickly enough for him, the clerk gestured for him to speed up. Which, of course, only made Jack walk more slowly.

When he reached the counter, he pulled the envelope from his uniform jacket, extracted his orders, and set them on the counter in front of him.

The clerk frowned but didn’t pick up the parchment. “What is this?”

“What is this, Captain.”

That earned Jack a glower. “I’m a civilian, and I couldn’t care less what your rank is. What the hell is this?”

“The easiest way to find out is to pick it up and read it,” Jack suggested. “You can read, can’t you?”

“Don’t be an ass,” the man said, and he snatched up the parchment. He scanned the orders, and his frown deepened the further down he got. When he finished, he set them back on the counter.

“First, Captain, this is the out-processing line. This is where people come to leave the Navy. There’s a sign on the door. You can read, can’t you?”

“Touché. Vice Admiral LaChasse was very specific that I needed to report to out-processing and present my final orders here, and I’m not going to question that. Are you?”

“What the hell am I supposed to do with this?” the man asked, waving his hand toward the parchment. “This is nonstandard. I don’t do nonstandard.”

Jack shrugged. “I suppose you could call the admiral’s office and have her come down and explain exactly what you need to do. Personally, I’d suggest entering the orders based on the numeric code on the top. That’s what you do with the others, isn’t it?”

“I scan the barcode, and that gives me the code.” The man sighed. “I suppose I’ll just have to do this the old-fashioned way if I want you out of my hair before dinner.”

He pulled a manual keyboard from underneath the counter, shook some debris off it, and squinted at the parchment. Slowly and carefully, he typed in the code and then double-checked it before accepting it.

“Huh,” he grunted. “I’m surprised that actually worked. Orders accepted, and I suppose I should congratulate you on the promotion, Commodore. That has to be some kind of first for me. Why would the admiral send you to out-process with this antique?”

Jack grinned. “She ordered me to present my final orders, which were—at the time—to process out of the Navy. Then these orders came into my hands and became my new final orders. I’d imagine she’s going to be super pissed when she finds out about them.”

The clerk gaped at him for a few seconds. “What? What other orders?”

Jack half-turned and gestured for Prescott to bring over the now superfluous red folder. He handed it to the clerk while the scientist returned to the wall to resume his careful observation of the impending chaos.

The clerk opened the folder and stared at the orders inside. “This says you’re supposed to be getting kicked out of the service. Why didn’t you give me this first?”

“Just following the letter of the admiral’s orders. Anyway, what kind of fun would that be? Are we done? If so, I guess I’ll get off to headquarters before the admiral finds out and bursts into flames.”

The totally flummoxed clerk reached over to an old-style comm unit and picked up the handset. “Transfer me to Admiral LaChasse’s office.” He stared daggers at Jack as he spoke.

For his part, Jack simply smiled back. He hadn’t really expected to walk away without a second ugly confrontation with LaChasse, so he might as well enjoy it. As his father said, he had the spine to stand up to an admiral under the appropriate circumstances.

“I don’t care how busy she is,” the clerk snarled into the handset. “We’ve got a situation down here in out-processing. There’s a guy who showed up with some weird orders but also has other orders to out-process from the admiral. His name is Romanoff.”

There was a response, but it was too soft for Jack to make out.

“I suppose you can just let things sit if you like, but if I wanted to keep my job, I’d be on the comm telling the admiral what’s going on. You know, like I just did for you. Your call, Lieutenant.”

With that, the clerk hung up the handset. “Idiot.”

“Agreed,” Jack said placidly, earning a scowl.

Rather than moving Jack off to the side and working on any of the other people waiting to out-process, the man rhythmically tapped his fingers against the counter and waited.

The people in line behind Jack didn’t seem to be in any hurry to speed the process along either. It seemed that they were anticipating a good show.

That was probably a safe bet.

Jack made a wager with himself that it wouldn’t take the admiral more than ten minutes to show up. This wasn’t something she’d even consider handling remotely. No, she was going to leave her office and blow in like the wrath of God. He was sure of it.

She did not disappoint.

Seven minutes and thirty-five seconds later—according to the utilitarian chronometer on the wall—Vice Admiral LaChasse stormed into the out-processing area and headed right for Jack. The crowd in the room parted in front of her like the Red Sea had parted for Moses, if one wanted to stay with the wrath of God theme.

“What’s this about some other orders?” she demanded as she came to a stop in front of him. “Whose orders?”

Jack reached over, picked the parchment up from the counter, and handed it to her without saying a word.

She snatched the orders out of his hand and quickly scanned the contents. Then she went back to the top and slowly reread the entire thing. Only when she was done did she crumple the orders into a ball, drop them on the floor, and crush them under her shoe.

“That’s bullshit, and we both know it. You had valid orders to process out of the service, and I don’t care what kind of weird papers you have to flash around. That doesn’t change a damned thing, Romanoff. You’re a civilian now.”

Jack grinned. “Not according to those orders you just trashed. Also, I’m pretty sure destroying them is a violation of some regulation or another. That seems like something the Admiralty would frown upon.

“Not that it matters, mind you. The clerk already entered them into the system, so they’re active. You can check, of course. I’ll wait.”

Her eyes almost bugged out of her skull and her fingers flexed like she was considering strangling him. It was fascinating to watch.

“What is he babbling about?” she demanded of the clerk. “You scanned the orders for him to out-process, didn’t you?”

“He gave me that other set first,” the clerk said, hurriedly defending himself. “He didn’t show me the out-processing orders until after I’d already entered the code on the first set. He said that you ordered him to come down here and present his final orders to the out-processing department, so I was just doing what I thought you’d ordered.”

All in all, an excellent job of dodging the blame. Nine stars out of ten.

“You did order me to report to out-processing and present my final orders,” Jack said with a little bit of a smirk. “I got my hands on these orders after I left your office, and they specifically superseded yours. I obeyed your instructions to the letter, Admiral.”

“Cancel the first set of orders and scan mine instead,” LaChasse said through clenched teeth.

The clerk shrugged. “I can’t cancel any orders that are in the system. The computers accepted the code, so they’re active now.”

“Then scan my orders and process him out of the Navy.”

The clerk opened the red folder, pulled out the orders within it, and used his handheld wand to scan the barcode. Then he frowned and scanned it again.

“The computer isn’t accepting these orders, Admiral,” the man said with a slight tremor in his voice. “It says that they aren’t valid because Commodore Romanoff isn’t in your chain of command.”

“What! And what do you mean Commodore Romanoff? That wasn’t in that damned paper.”

“The promotion orders were linked in the system,” the clerk said. “He got bumped up when he was assigned the new position.”

LaChasse stalked to the counter and turned the monitor so that she could see the results for herself. The storm clouds on her face grew so dark that it looked like lightning might strike the clerk.

She whirled in place and stomped over to Jack. “I don’t know what the hell you just did, and I don’t care either. Those orders aren’t valid, and that promotion certainly isn’t. Only I have the authority to fill that open slot, and there is no way that anyone in the Admiralty would do any of this without consulting me.”

“It’s not only possible, Admiral, it just happened,” Jack said with an easy smile. “Perhaps you missed the part of the orders where I was assigned to head the battleship division. That means that I report directly to the grand admiral. That explains why you can’t fire me. I don’t work for you.”

LaChasse snatched the crumpled orders off the floor, slapped them on the counter, and smoothed them out. As she reread them, her hands closed into fists.

“These orders aren’t even dated. When were they issued?”

Jack shrugged and inclined his head toward the clerk. Without being told to, he used the keyboard to bring up something on the screen.

“It says the orders were originated at the Admiralty a little more than five years ago, Admiral,” the man said. “They’re signed by Grand Admiral Romanoff. Didn’t he retire?”

“He did, and that’s why these orders aren’t valid,” LaChasse almost crowed. “No one gets to issue orders that take place years after they’ve left the service. As I said, Mister Romanoff, you are a civilian now, no matter what that computer says.”

“Actually, I suspect that the orders were affirmed by Grand Admiral Carbonaro after he took over the position,” Jack said in a tone so deferential that it verged on mockery. “Perhaps you should scroll down a little bit to be sure, my good clerk.”

He feverishly did as Jack suggested and blinked. “Admiral, it says that Grand Admiral Carbonaro endorsed these orders when he assumed the position of grand admiral. They… ah, they might be valid.”

Once again, LaChasse leaned over the counter and read what was displayed on the monitor. Based on the color of her face, she was in immediate danger of a stroke.

This entire situation was far more entertaining than he’d expected it to be. He ought to be terrified, but he only felt exultation.

“I don’t care what kind of scam you’re running, Romanoff,” LaChasse snarled, “I’m not going to be a party to it. Get off my station. And if I ever see you again, I’m going to have you thrown in the brig. Is that clear?”

“As an active-duty Navy officer, it might become necessary during the performance of my duties to come to headquarters, Admiral,” he politely disagreed. “I suggest you contact the Admiralty and verify the validity of these orders rather than accusing me of some kind of fraud.

“I certainly didn’t put the orders into the system, and without a valid reason to charge me with anything, you’d get into a lot of trouble for falsely imprisoning me. As they say, never rush. That’s when accidents happen.”

She was in his face in a flash, her finger jabbing him in the chest, hard. “Don’t you dare lecture me, Romanoff! This is some kind of trick concocted by your father, and I’m going to get to the bottom of it before the proverbial ink is dry on that new commission!

“If I see you on my station one more time, I will personally throw your ass straight into the brig, and you’ll never breathe free air again. Say one more word, and you’ll find out how serious I am. One. More. Word.”

Jack stood at attention and snapped a picture-perfect salute to the admiral. When it became clear that she had no intention of returning it, he dropped his arm to his side sharply, grabbed his mangled orders off the counter, and marched for the exit.

Prescott fell in behind him when Jack made it into the relative safety of the corridor. “That was quite the performance, young man. Did you, by chance, work in the theater when you were pursuing your education? I rather admire your flair for the dramatic.”

Jack grinned and shook his head. “No, I picked that up at home. You should probably call ahead and make sure that your cutter is ready to go. Because while I’m sure that the admiral is focused on the clerk right now, she’s going to stop chewing up the scenery at some point, and it wouldn’t really surprise me if she sends the Marines after us before this is all over. It would probably be best if we weren’t close at hand when that happens. Tempting fate and all that.”

And with that, Jack broke into a jog, heading toward the small craft bay at a pace that was unseemly for a senior officer, but he didn’t want to ruin a perfectly fine performance by actually getting arrested.

5

Jack and Prescott arrived at the small craft bay only a couple minutes later, and Jack had to admit that he was surprised there wasn’t a party of marines already waiting to detain him. Either the admiral was still ranting at the clerk, or she was trying to find some way of overturning the orders that had been entered into the system.

Or she’d actually popped a blood vessel and was on her way to sickbay.

Whatever the case, he was glad that she was distracted enough to allow him to escape. Even if she’d taken him into custody, she didn’t have enough to hold him. His orders were valid, and her dislike of them—and him—didn’t mean that she could arrest him for following them.

But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t try, so it was time to exit stage left, to keep with the theater metaphor.

Prescott led him down a line of small craft that were either disgorging passengers or cargo, sitting empty, or loading passengers or cargo. Most of them were civilian craft rather than Navy, but there was a sprinkling of military vehicles among the rest.

The scientist guided him to one of the latter, only it wasn’t a standard cutter. It had faded military markings on its dark, marred hull, but Jack wasn’t familiar with the model or the style of the vessel.

Its engines were large enough to dominate its profile to a degree that he’d never seen before, and it looked significantly more run-down than anything he’d ever flown in.

Gaining entry to the vessel required entering the code into a mechanical keypad, which the professor took care of. The hatch opened, and a short set of stairs lowered to the deck to allow them access.

Jack followed the scientist into the cutter and looked around with curiosity as the professor sealed them back up. The interior was just as jarring as the exterior. It looked military but was still like nothing he’d seen before. The fittings were antiques, and not particularly well-maintained ones at that.

Unlike modern cutters, the pilot’s seats were in the same compartment as everyone else. Accessing them simply required stepping to the front of the vessel and dropping into acceleration couches. Acceleration couches that were worn, shoddily patched, and had obviously seen a lot of use.

“I assume you can fly this thing,” Jack said as he watched the professor slide into the primary pilot’s seat.

“Indeed. It took more than a little bit of practice to get my license, but I’ve had enough time over the last decade to pick up a few skills that your average scientist wouldn’t have in their back pockets. If you’ll take the copilot’s seat, we can be on our way before any awkward arrest orders arrive.”

Jack dropped into the other acceleration couch, strapped himself in, and stared at the unfamiliar controls. It wasn’t that he’d never flown a cutter before. As a junior officer, he’d gotten quite a bit of experience in flying small craft.

The problem was that the layout of the controls was radically different than what he was used to. The locations of the various instruments were all mixed up, and the pattern of manual switches—manual switches!—was utterly unfamiliar to him.

“This is one of the historical displays from Delta Orionis, isn’t it?” Jack asked. “What is this thing, two hundred years old?”

“Somewhat more than that,” Prescott said as he flipped switches and brought the cutter to life. “Since Hunter was the first battleship brought into operation, a lot of her equipment was appropriated from other vessels, and that included her small craft.

“This cutter is probably about two hundred and thirty years old, but don’t worry. The Navy personnel assigned to Hunter have gone over it with a fine-toothed comb and certified it for operation. I’ve flown it hundreds of times without any serious problems.”

The engines came to life, but they sounded far from normal. One of them had a strange throaty harmonic. It was like a buzz saw tearing into his ears.

Seemingly unconcerned, Prescott shut the offending engine down, waited five seconds, and kicked it back to life. This time, though it sounded rough, it wasn’t making those terrible noises.

“No serious problems, huh?” Jack asked rhetorically. “And what makes you so certain that engine isn’t going to explode when you ramp it up to full power?”

“It hasn’t yet, so I don’t see any reason that it will on this trip. It doesn’t make that noise all the time, and the mechanic assured me that it’s just an imbalance that can be corrected by shutting it down and powering it up again.”

While turning something off and turning it back on again worked for a lot of things, Jack was pretty sure that Prescott had been fed a line of utter bull. If a competent mechanic had heard that noise, he’d have grounded the cutter instantly. If this sort of thing was the normal state of affairs for Delta Orionis, she had to be in pretty sorry condition.

Still, the odds were probably low that the engine would destroy itself right this second, and he really didn’t want to see what the admiral would do if she caught up with him. He was just going to have to take his chances.

He could do it. After all, Navy officers were supposed to be brave. And even occasionally foolhardy. This likely counted as both.

When the professor reached up for a headset hanging from a hook on the ceiling and put it on, Jack did the same. It cut down the engine noise pretty well, and he found himself listening to the departure channel for the station. It was clear enough, but the left ear of the headset was significantly out of tune. Enough to make him wince every time anyone spoke.

“Control, Delta Orionis Three Seven requesting departure vector, flight plan already in the system,” Prescott said crisply.

A few seconds later, a controller responded. “Copy that, Delta Orionis Three Seven. I have an outgoing slot in forty-five seconds. Mark.”

“Delta Orionis Three Seven copies the mark. Have a good day, Control.”

“You have done this a few times,” Jack said with a smile after he verified that he was on the internal frequency.

The headset was now transmitting only between Prescott and himself, which made understanding the other man easier as the engines grew louder with the application of more power.

That was definitely something modern cutters didn’t have to worry about. They were well soundproofed, and their engines didn’t make the entire vessel vibrate.

The headset crackled with an incoming call from control. “Delta Orionis Three Seven, you are cleared to depart on heading three-six-zero, one-eight-zero. Keep the speed down this time.”

Prescott smiled. “Delta Orionis Three Seven copies. Three-six-zero, one-eight-zero, and drive like my grandmother is in the backseat. See you next time, Control.”

The scientist picked the cutter up off the deck and retracted the landing gear as he rotated to face the massive opening at the end of the bay. Strong force fields held the atmosphere inside but would allow the cutter to depart without issue.

Prescott goosed the thrust just a little to start them edging in the direction they wanted to go, and in less than twenty seconds, they were in space. Once there, he turned to the instructed heading and increased their speed slightly.

Jack noted that the engines were at less than ten percent of their rated output. “Just how much power does this thing have?”

“Roughly fifty percent more than modern cutters,” Prescott said with a smile as he glanced back over at Jack. “They built them to last back in the day, and they gave them more than enough power to carry out their missions. There have been a few times where I’ve exceeded the recommended speed for headquarters traffic by a fair margin. Hence the warning.”

The course they were on took them directly toward the massive asteroid ship that trailed headquarters in its orbit. Prescott made no attempt to contact anyone for an approach vector, but he did pay attention to the plot showing what small craft were in the area.

Or rather, the lack of small craft. It appeared that they were the only cutter approaching the mothballed battleship.

“Don’t you get visitors? Back in my day, there was always one school trip or another going to this place.”

Prescott shook his head. “We get swamped by visitors, but we’re in one of those rare periods where we’re performing maintenance. We won’t have any civilians underfoot for the next month or so. I kind of like the quiet because even though children can be entertaining, they tend to scream a lot.”

The cutter came around the side of the battleship and passed far closer than Hawkwing had. The myriad scars and pitted craters of battles long past showed just how much of a beating this ship had taken during the war.

The scars crossed over one another so much that Jack was pretty sure he wasn’t looking at the original surface material of the asteroid itself. That must’ve been burned away in the fighting long ago.

Unlike the station they’d just left, the bay ahead of them was closed off by an absolutely massive hatch that began sliding ponderously open when Prescott flipped a switch. The damned thing had to be twenty meters thick. Jack had never seen anything like it, but he supposed it was necessary on a warship that was constantly taking fire.

Behind the hatch was perhaps fifty meters of wide tunnel and then another hatch just as thick as the first. It was already opening as they approached, and Prescott flew into the bay beyond it. A standard force field like the one on the station kept the air in place.

Prescott brought the cutter forward, revealing a small craft bay easily five times the size of the one aboard headquarters. The deck had discrete areas marked for small craft parking, and each of them held a cutter or marine pinnace.

There were hundreds of them.

Hawkwing had had a single pinnace and two cutters, and it was the largest class of warship in active service. The scale of what he was seeing made Jack feel very small.

All of the tiny vessels looked to be in roughly the same condition as the cutter they were in, and even though he couldn’t see them clearly enough to know for sure, he doubted most had been powered up in a very long time. Everything in this bay had an air of long disuse.

There was an open spot near the primary exit from the bay—which was situated under a wide, dark control area dug into the stone—and that’s where Prescott brought the cutter down. As soon as the freshly extended landing gear was resting on the deck, he began shutting the engines down.

“It’s a good thing they had gravitic technology back in the day, or we’d have to strap down and move through a microgravity environment,” the scientist said as he turned to face Jack. “There are some parts of the ship where those conditions do apply at the moment, but I’m not really all that comfortable in such an environment. I’m afraid that as the former commanding officer of a modern warship, Hunter is going to be a shock to your system. Things don’t work here the same way they do in the rest of the Navy. Some of that is necessary as we operate as a museum, but there are other elements you’re going to have to grapple with.”

“The crew,” Jack said as he unstrapped and stood. “They’re rejects from every ship in the sector, right? They probably don’t react well to authority figures.”

“There is some of that,” Prescott admitted. He stepped over to the hatch and opened it. “I’ll have to get you settled in before you meet with Lieutenant Kelly Danek, our chief engineer, to see for yourself. If I know her—and I do—she’ll be in engineering. There’s always something needing work there, and keeping her hands busy is one of the ways that she stays out of trouble.”

The two of them exited the cutter, and Jack looked around as Prescott closed it back up. From here on the deck, the bay seemed even larger than before. He could barely imagine what the place would’ve looked like during the war when it was swarming with Navy personnel conducting flight operations.

“So, if I’m not going to meet her right away, what comes first?”

Prescott opened a hatch toward the rear of the cutter, revealing Jack’s luggage. It was more than two people could carry since it held everything that he possessed, but as he’d lived aboard a Navy cruiser, it really wasn’t that much in the grand scheme of things.

“We’ll need to dig up a couple of people to get your belongings to your quarters, and then we’ll get you into uniform.”

Jack looked down at his uniform before raising an eyebrow. “Other than having the wrong rank insignia, I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

After that ominous statement, the personnel hatch near them slid open, and two men sauntered through. One of them raised an arm and waved as they approached.

“Welcome back, Professor. Did you find our lost sheep?”

The first thing Jack noted about the man was that he had a beard that was definitely outside regulation length, as was his hair. But more notably, he was dressed in Navy work coveralls of a style Jack didn’t recognize. They were dark blue with green piping along the legs and arms.

The smaller man who’d spoken wore petty officer’s rank tabs, and his nametag declared him to be Hutton.

Prescott inclined his head. “Everything went just fine, Joby. Allow me to introduce you to Commodore Jack Romanoff. He’s the new head of the battleship division and your new commanding officer.” Then he turned to Jack. “Jack, meet Petty Officer Joby Hutton and Able Spacer Mark McCoy. They’ll help us get your luggage to your quarters.”

Rather than offering a salute, the dark-skinned petty officer stuck his hand out. “We cleared the place out for you, sir, and I managed to find you some passable bedding. If there’s anything else that you need, I’m the guy that’ll find it for you.”

An officer with a stick up his behind would’ve been outraged at the overly friendly act. And to be fair, no one operating on a regular Navy vessel would accept this kind of behavior, but Jack suspected that he was being tested.

Either that or things were so bad aboard Hunter that discipline had completely broken down.

In any case, if he proved to be a stickler for the rules right off the bat, it would make a good rapport with the crew even more challenging.

Jack took his hand and shook it firmly. “I appreciate you looking out for me, PO. I’m sure there are going to be things that I need to have done, so we’ll definitely be talking again.”

That statement came with a number of implications, and Jack was pleased to see the corners of the man’s mouth twitch up just the slightest bit. The petty officer was not a stupid man. Good.

“It might take some time and work, sir, but anything you need can be arranged, as long as there’s a call for it. Doing something BS just isn’t in the cards right now, if you know what I mean. Hunter is something of a special case. Best you get the lay of the land before you start making out a full requisition sheet.”

Challenge answered.

Jack released the man’s hand and nodded. “I get the picture, PO. As long as things aren’t too bad, I think we can let things stand as they are for the moment, and we’ll figure out what needs fixing together. How about that?”

The man smiled. “I can work with that, sir. Let’s get your baggage up to the admiral’s suite. Best I can tell, it probably hasn’t been occupied for at least a century. I had to throw just about everything out, but I was able to find some replacements. Once we get you there, I’ll see about digging up some uniforms with the appropriate insignia from the ship’s stores. As you can see, because we’re part of a historical display, we wear the uniforms of the day. I think you’re going to be rather shocked at what the Navy wore two hundred years ago, but I suppose that’s the price we all have to pay. Thank God we can get by in coveralls most of the time.”

With that, he gestured for the able spacer to assist him, and they began gathering Jack’s things.

Jack vaguely remembered thinking that the uniforms at the museum looked pretty cool when he’d visited as a kid, but he didn’t have a clear memory of the specifics. Since his father was a Navy officer, he’d known the people here hadn’t been dressed the same, but he’d been in primary school, so he couldn’t remember anything other than the general feeling that they were awesome.

He hoped he’d still feel that way, but the petty officer’s tone suggested otherwise.

Of more concern was the fact that the crew had their own way of doing business, and if he got into a fight with them, he wouldn’t be getting anything meaningful accomplished anytime soon.

He needed to have a candid chat with Prescott and then sit down with Lieutenant Danek. He had to know the situation before deciding what had to change and what he could live with.

Jack didn’t want to rock the boat, but there were certain things that he couldn’t or wouldn’t tolerate. Given the circumstances, he was willing to let a lot slide until he got control of the situation.

He had no expectations of turning these people into the sharpest military formation in the Navy. That only happened in the entertainment videos, and he knew it. What he needed were people that he could trust and that trusted him in return.

They’d find an acceptable balance. They had to.

Jack grabbed one of his bags and slung it over his shoulder, then followed Prescott and the enlisted men into the ship. He had a lot to learn about his new command, and that didn’t even begin addressing the reasons that he’d been given the ship in the first place.

He needed to find out what his father meant, and he needed to know what Prescott’s warnings were. Only once he understood that could he begin to decide if he was going to be as worried about it as his father had been.

Or perhaps more.

It had already been a long day, and it was only going to get longer, but he had to settle this situation before he could relax even a little. One misstep now could blow everything up, and that was something that he couldn’t allow to happen.

The universe seemed as if it were arrayed against him, and he needed a solid base to work from. He’d best get that fixed first thing, then.

6

As they left the small craft bay, Jack found himself astounded by the sheer size of the primary corridor on this deck. On a ship like Hawkwing, space constraints kept the interior structures as small as possible.

Even headquarters had its limitations. It was a huge station, but not big enough to provide everyone as much space as they’d like.

Except for the admiral, of course.

This corridor was broad, tall, and seemingly endless. It also had airtight hatches every thirty meters, sealing off what lay beyond them.

He had absolutely no idea how to read the locator plates on the side corridors and compartments they passed. The nomenclature the Navy used had obviously changed over the intervening years.

It was clear that the ship was vastly understaffed because the side corridors were dusty and gritty. The ones that weren’t sealed off, of course. The one they were traveling down had been cleaned at some point in the relatively recent past, but it wasn’t what he’d have considered acceptable before today.

And actually, he really didn’t consider it acceptable now, but he had bigger fish to fry.

After they’d marched for an eternity, passing banks of lifts marked as out of service, they came to a set that seemed just a bit cleaner than its nonfunctional brethren. Hutton pressed the button to go up.

“Just how big is this ship on the inside?” Jack asked. “How much of the interior is used?”

“More than you’d think, and far less than they might have used given more time,” Prescott said with a professorial air. “First of all, the engineering spaces needed to provide the power and thrust for this ship are gargantuan. Also, the surface is covered with missile and laser batteries that require significant access to service and arm them.

“Except for locations like the small craft bay we just left, you’re going to find most crewed areas about a hundred meters below the surface. The hatches on the outside of the bay are as strong as possible but aren’t a match for a hundred meters of nickel and iron. Hence the airtight hatches. In case there’s a breach.

“There are vast sections of the interior that aren’t used for anything, and so there are no corridors bored into them, but there’s still significantly more occupied area than you’d find aboard headquarters. As you might imagine, virtually none of it is in use at this time.”

The lift arrived, and they all climbed aboard. The lift car seemed to be in acceptable condition, though it could’ve used a good cleaning as well. It took them up a number of levels before letting them out again.

The corridor they exited into held something that Jack hadn’t seen aboard the ship until just this moment: other crew members walking along, carrying what looked like satchels of tools. They wore the same style of work coveralls as the two enlisted men he’d met thus far, but their piping was yellow. Again, he had no idea what that meant.

The man and woman gave Jack confused looks and belatedly saluted as they quickened their steps to get away from the unfamiliar senior officer.

“They’re just shy around strangers,” Hutton suggested. “I’m sure you’ll grow on them, sir.”

“I’m sure,” Jack responded dryly. “Or, most likely, everyone is going to avoid me like the plague if they possibly can.”

“You’re being too hard on yourself, sir. I’m sure everyone is going to realize that you’re one of us soon enough.”

Hutton certainly had balls of brass. The man seemed utterly unfazed about bantering with a flag officer. Jack could see how that might get him into trouble with other officers in the Navy.

If that was the fault that had gotten him sent here, Jack wasn’t going to hold it against him. One worked with the tools they had. If those tools were flawed, you just had to take those imperfections into account so that you didn’t break the tool entirely. After all, you’d probably need the damned thing at some point, flaws and all.

Unlike the level below, the side corridors they passed now were in the same state of cleanliness as the main corridor. They weren’t clean by any stretch of the imagination, but at least they weren’t filthy.

They quickly veered into one of the side corridors, and Jack completely lost his bearings. He was going to have to study these locator plates so that he could figure out where the hell he was. Otherwise, as soon as these people left him alone for five minutes, he was going to find himself in a part of the ship with no power or air.

Even the side corridors were fairly broad, and they soon found themselves at a hatch that the petty officer tapped a code into. The fact that it had a manual locking mechanism meant that it wasn’t for public access like most of the compartments aboard modern cruisers.

The light beside the keypad turned from red to green, and the hatch slid open.

“We’ll change the code to something that you control access to at some point, sir,” Hutton said as he led the way into the compartment beyond.

Jack brought up the rear and stopped dead in his tracks as soon as he stepped into the compartment. It was bigger than Admiral LaChasse’s office. Several times bigger.

Of course, it didn’t have nearly as much furniture. In fact, there was only a battered-looking couch, a low table, and three easy chairs set near one of the side hatches. That was it.

“I think you can probably find something a little smaller for me,” Jack said. “I’m used to living on board a cruiser. This amount of space is… obscene.”

“Sorry, sir,” Hutton said. “All of the other operable cabins are already in use. It would take the engineering team quite a bit of time to get something else running, and they’ve already invested a significant amount of effort into making sure that your quarters are operational. If you move somewhere else, they might take it personally.”

Jack turned toward the man and crossed his arms. “I’m willing to take a lot on faith, PO, but I think you’re pulling my leg now. This is some kind of gag, isn’t it? What was this compartment really used for?”

Hutton held up his hands in a gesture of innocence and looked at Prescott. “You tell him, Professor.”

“I’m afraid that our young friend is correct,” the older man said with a shrug. “These are indeed the senior flag officer’s quarters. Before you judge the size of the living space by the cruisers that the Navy uses now, realize that a regular crewmen’s cabin aboard Hunter is probably significantly larger than what you had before. There’s just so much space that there was no need to build small.

“I’ll grant that you could probably find another set of quarters that were less gargantuan, but I’d recommend against it. It may not seem like it, but making sure that everything here was powered and that the life-support system was functioning did eat up attention and resources that could’ve been used elsewhere.”

Jack was almost certain that was a line of bull. It wasn’t as if they’d needed to do a lot to get the quarters into shape since there was nothing here. True, the two side hatches undoubtedly led to places of interest, but how could one person live in something like this? How could anyone possibly accumulate enough things to fill it?

Convinced that this was still some kind of prank, Jack made the circuit of the compartment, looking through the adjoining hatches. On the right side of the large space was a galley and an adjacent suite.

To say that it wasn’t in the best of shape was a massive understatement. The galley appeared to have suffered from a fire at some point in the past. So long ago, in fact, that it didn’t even smell burned. The attached suite was in somewhat better shape, but that hardly meant it was livable.

The hatch on the left side of the large compartment led into an extensive suite of rooms. There was what probably served as an intimate living room, a bedroom, a bath that he would’ve considered extravagant if he hadn’t just seen the colossal compartment next door, and a series of other compartments that were empty.

The only compartment with any furniture was the bedroom. Someone had found a bed, and it was made. A quick check revealed that the mattress felt decent, but he’d probably find lumps or something else unpleasant when he tried sleeping on it.

There was also a dresser and a wardrobe, along with a walk-in closet bigger than his old quarters aboard Hawkwing.

He thought it kind of strange that he’d have to walk across the big compartment to get to his galley. And the galley was huge for a single man taking care of himself.

Was he reading this wrong? Maybe he needed to think about this from the position of a very senior admiral because that’s who would’ve been in these quarters in the old days.

That smaller suite next to the galley would have been for some kind of steward. That person could probably whip up something in the galley for the admiral at any hour if need be. But why have them separated by such a massive space? And why was the galley so large?

Maybe that big space wasn’t a living room.

The compartment was large enough to house a table that could seat dozens of people comfortably. What if it was the admiral’s formal dining room, a place where he could bring his senior officers and discuss things in a more intimate—relatively speaking—environment?

If that was the case, everything on this side of the compartment was actually the admiral’s quarters. That was more manageable, taken in context.

The only problem was that there was no exit from the admiral’s quarters that didn’t go through the formal dining room. Maybe that could be addressed at a later point, but if he just reserved himself to living in this one section, while it was still significantly more space than he was used to, it wouldn’t be ludicrous.

Okay, it was still ludicrous but better than the alternative.

While he’d been considering the issue, the two enlisted men had put his belongings at the foot of the bed and vanished. The only person remaining was Prescott.

He explained his thinking, and the scientist nodded. “That does make more sense than having a massive living room. And I’m sure that they can install a hatch to access your quarters from the corridor if that’s your desire. I suspect the reason it wasn’t done in the past was because the admiral had a marine guard that wanted to restrict access. That’s not exactly an issue since we’re not at war, and we have very few people on board in any case. I seriously doubt that you’re going to see any assassins on this deployment.”

Jack chuckled. “Don’t be so sure. Admiral LaChasse is pretty mad. It wouldn’t surprise me one bit if she sent someone after me.”

Prescott gave him a reserved smile. “Admiral LaChasse is livid, I’ll grant, but I doubt that you have to fear paid killers from her. If anything, the good admiral will simply arrest you.

“Right now, I believe that she’s likely struggling with the bureaucracy to undo what your father did. Based on what I know of your father, she’s going to fail, and that will just serve to enrage her further.

“Joby has gone to get some uniforms for you, but it’s quite likely to take him a bit of time to put everything together. We’re working off of the uniforms in storage, and though they are still plentiful and in excellent shape because of their careful storage, it’s going to take time to get everything sized. He’s pretty good at it, though.

“I suggest that you use the time to unpack. Leave space in the closet or the wardrobe for your new uniforms.”

With his new closet, space wasn’t going to be a problem.

Jack had a lot of experience at putting his things away, though finding new locations for them would require some interesting mental gymnastics. When he was in a rush, he’d need to know exactly where everything was so that he didn’t waste time. In a crisis, seconds counted.

Though, he supposed, that wasn’t the case anymore. Now he was a junior flag officer in command of a mothballed division of battleships, so he wasn’t going to be running for the bridge with the ship at battle stations.

“Where are the other battleships, Professor?” Jack asked as he began emptying his suitcases and filling the dresser. “Are they scattered across the Confederation as other museums?”

Prescott shook his head. “They’re mothballed in a forward location inside the Perseus Cluster. The thinking back in the day was that it would be best to have them close at hand in case there was another incursion. At the time that they were mothballed, there were enough Navy personnel stationed with them to operate each of the ships if need be. That’s no longer the case, but the Navy station that once served as a supply depot and personnel hub is still there.

“As it was designed to hold munitions for all the ships, repair facilities, and parts storage, as well as house the full crews for twelve battleships and three to four times that number in support personnel, it has to dwarf headquarters.

“I’ve never been there, mind you, so I only know what I’ve read. The location was selected because it hadn’t seen action by the Locusts and was off the beaten path. The quantum gate leading to it was located in an out of the way corner of the cluster and then deactivated. No one in, no one out.

“Hunter was more than sufficient for my needs, so I didn’t worry about the others. Perhaps that’s just hiding my head in the sand, but I’m only human. There’s only so much I can do.”

Having finished with the suitcase he was working on, Jack moved to the next suitcase and opened the wardrobe to begin hanging his duty uniforms. Not that he’d be using them anytime soon if there really was a different uniform specified for this ship.

Maybe the back of the closet was a better place for them. He’d reserve the wardrobe for a few sets of the current uniform. With that thought, he quickly moved them to the closet.

“My father indicated that he thought something hinky was going on in the battleship division. Do you have any idea what?”

The scientist shook his head. “Not a clue, though I suspect you’ll be able to ask him in short order. I took the liberty of sending a message his way after we arrived. Since he spent so much time getting his plan lined up, I figured that he’d like to know it had been correctly—if dramatically—executed.”

Well, that was just peachy. There was no way that his father was going to pass up the opportunity to come tell Jack precisely what he needed to be doing. His father was very good at that.

Unfortunately for him, Jack wasn’t exactly the obedient son. He needed the information so that he could make a decision for himself, but his father could go suck eggs. Which sounded gross now that he thought about it.

In the end, it took him about half an hour to put everything where he wanted it. He then moved his empty suitcases into the closet. There was still more than enough room for anything else he cared to store there.

About that time, Hutton returned with a stack of sealed bags and boxes on a cart.

“Good news, sir,” the petty officer said cheerfully. “I was able to find uniforms in your size. If the labels are correct, I shouldn’t have to make any adjustments. I added your name and rank before sealing them back up, so you’re good to go. You’ll need a little bit of instruction about how the uniform goes on, though. How do you want to handle that?”

“Instruction?” Jack asked in confusion. “How complicated could it be?”

The young man grinned. “Very. What do you think, Professor?”

“I think that you and McCoy can move the furniture from the large room into the smaller room just inside this suite. The commodore is going to use these rooms for his living area.”

That dimmed Hutton’s smile a bit, but he nodded and went about his business.

Prescott turned back to Jack. “Ignore Joby’s glee, but he’s absolutely correct that the uniforms used aboard Hunter are significantly different from those in use by the Navy today. Uniforms like the one you’re wearing now were designed to be relatively minimalistic. Bland, even.

“That was not true two hundred years ago. Unfortunately, the only way for you to see what you’re dealing with is for us to go ahead and make sure that everything fits. I suggest you stick with standard Navy issue undergarments. It’s only the outer uniform that we need to focus on to be historically accurate.”

Jack sighed and shooed Prescott through the hatch. “I’ll call you back in once I have my pants on. I’m still not sure exactly how different this could possibly be.”

Once he was alone, Jack examined the packages and boxes. He had several pairs of boots and several hats. The petty officer had put everything else into stacks so he could find similar items. Good, he wouldn’t have to open a ton of the packaging to find everything he needed.

He wasn’t sure what to think about the hat, though. The Navy didn’t use them in this day and age, so he had no experience with them. But he supposed he’d get used to it.

Jack opened the package labeled pants and found a pair of dark navy slacks with a scarlet stripe down the outside of each leg. He slid them on after he’d stripped down to his undershorts and undershirt and found that the petty officer had gotten his size right.

There was a belt with the image of a man wearing a sheathed sword, but holding a club and shield on the buckle. Obviously, that must be Orion the Hunter. The buckle was going to be way too large for his comfort.

Jack slid the belt through the loops on his pants and secured it. He’d probably be tucking in a shirt, so he might be taking too much for granted, but at least he was mostly dressed at this point.

“I’m ready for you, Professor,” he called.

The other man came in and nodded. “I thought you’d make that mistake. The belt actually goes on the outside of your uniform tunic. There’s a plain belt for your trousers.”

“Outside my tunic? And what exactly is a tunic?”

“I’ve found that when discussing the sartorial choices of the old Navy that it’s best not to ask questions. Simply accept that’s the way it was done.”

Jack sighed and pulled the belt off. After a little bit of searching, he found a plain belt and put it on.

“The emblem is for the ship, right?” Jack asked. “It’s Orion the Hunter. Was it the same for all the ships?”

“No,” the professor said. “Each ship had a different constellation as seen from Earth as their emblem. If you ever get to the other battleships, you’ll find quite the selection.”

Jack thought that the club was an appropriate weapon for a ship that was basically a blunt instrument of death.

“Now, the next thing is your tunic,” the professor said. He tore open another bag and extracted what amounted to a thigh-length, long-sleeved shirt the same shade as his pants. There was a scarlet ring two inches wide at the end of the sleeves.

It had the emblem of Orion the Hunter on the left breast pocket. Above that was stitched the name of the ship, Delta Orionis. His name was stitched over the right breast pocket, and the shoulders held a commodore’s tabs.

It was far too ornate for his taste, but there was nothing to be done about that, he supposed.

Then Prescott opened a package and produced a white scarf. When he held it out, it was about three feet long.

“Where does that go?” Jack asked.

“Around your neck. You’ll note that there’s a place where you can secure it so that it hangs correctly down in front.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why would anyone want to wear a scarf in space?”

“I have no idea, but this is indeed part of the standard duty uniform. The enlisted have their own version of the same thing, so don’t feel that you’re being singled out. Of course, they wear work coveralls when they can, so they don’t have to deal with it much.”

Rolling his eyes, Jack allowed the other man to show him how to put the scarf around his neck and secure it with a small catch so that the remaining length hung down the front of his tunic, much like an old-fashioned necktie, though much broader.

“The boots are pretty self-explanatory,” Prescott said.

Jack sat on the bed, pulled the glossy boots out of their box, and slid them onto his feet. They came almost up to his knees, which was a significant change from the shoes he was used to. In addition to the laces that secured them, a leather strap wrapped around his ankle and attached to the top via a shiny brass buckle.

It served no purpose that he could figure out, so it had to be decorative. Like the rest of the uniform, it looked absurd.

Just wanting to get it over, Jack put them on, adjusted the laces until they felt snug, and then secured the straps. When he stood and walked around the compartment, they were stiff. It was going to take some getting used to.

He eyed the remaining packages. “I understand that there’s a cap, but what’s in the other packages? I’m already fully dressed.”

“No. You only think you’re fully dressed,” Prescott said smugly. He then opened the next package and revealed a gigantic greatcoat.

Jack had seen something similar in an entertainment video he’d watched about old Earth seafarers. It looked like an old-fashioned sea coat.

It had all the emblems, tabs, and stitching that his uniform tunic had, but it took the look he already had a problem with to a whole new level. The coat was the same dark navy as the rest of the uniform, but the interior was scarlet. The color was prominent on the exposed lapels as well, though absent from his sleeves this time.

Prescott bustled behind him and held the coat up. Grumbling, Jack slid his arms into it and felt its weight settle on him. The cloth was thick and would’ve protected him if he’d actually been out in a storm. It was going to be heavy and uncomfortable for sure.

The scientist returned to the front and adjusted how it sat on him. Jack saw that it was meant to hang open so that the uniform tunic was partially visible. The white scarf fell down the center of the open area like a ruffle and set off the scarlet lapels.

It was utterly ridiculous, but it had style if one were to look at it in the right frame of mind.

“I forgot the belt,” Prescott said, snapping his fingers. “Slip it around your waist underneath the greatcoat. There are loops on the sides of the tunic to help keep it in place.”

Jack did so and adjusted it so that the buckle was a few inches below the tip of the scarf.

“And finally, the cap,” the scientist said triumphantly. He opened the box and pulled out a naval cap that looked like it was from one of those old maritime videos as well. It had a brim under a fully peaked front bearing the ship’s emblem.

Unlike the greatcoat, it was primarily white. A ring about an inch above the brim and all the way around where the cap would touch his head was navy blue like the uniform.

Since he didn’t have a mirror in the compartment—an oversight that he wasn’t sure he wanted to correct—he could only imagine that he looked like an idiot. Thank God he didn’t smoke a pipe.

“Stop looking so forlorn,” Prescott chided him. “You’ll only need to wear this when we have civilians coming aboard to tour the museum. Admittedly, that’s most days, but you can slip into something more comfortable once you get out of the commonly visited areas.

“And if you think this is gaudy, let me assure you that you have no idea what a treat you’re in for with the dress uniform, if there ever comes a need for you to wear one. Let’s get everything put away now that we’re sure these fit.”

“Why don’t I get out of this and into some work coveralls?” Jack suggested. “There’s no need for me to be wearing this ridiculous getup.”

“It doesn’t look like Joby brought you any. An oversight, I’m sure. And in any case, there’s no time. While you were getting undressed earlier, I received word that your father was on his way up. He should be aboard by now, and Joby already left to guide him back here. We can expect them shortly.”

So, his father was going to see him playing dress-up. That was just perfect.

Resigned to his fate, he joined Prescott in opening all of the packages and putting away his new uniforms. Jack was beginning to regret having taken this job, and he was sure that that feeling would only intensify when his father arrived.

7

Jack and Prescott finished clearing the detritus from unpacking his new uniforms, stuffing everything into the bags that the coats had come in. They put it all on the cart and pushed it into the dining compartment.

They wrapped up just in time for Hutton and Jack’s father to arrive. As Jack had expected, his father entered the large compartment, saw him, and smirked.

“Well, don’t you cut the dashing figure?” his father asked as he reached into his pocket, pulled out his comm unit, and deftly snapped a picture of his scowling son. “Your mother will definitely want to see this. She always thought those old-style Navy uniforms were the absolute best. Personally, I’m glad they went out of service long before I signed up.”

Before Jack could say anything, Prescott hurried to the hatch leading into the corridor and tugged Hutton out with him, leaving Jack alone with his father.

“I suggest you don’t push my buttons too hard because I’m inclined to be pissed that you manipulated me yet again,” Jack grumbled.

“As a flag officer, you’re going to have to figure out how to make being pissed off work for you.” His father put his hands on his hips and frowned at the vast dining area. “This compartment is egregiously large. What the hell are you supposed to do with it?”

Jack sighed. He wasn’t going to be able to maintain this level of irritation with his father. No matter what he’d done to get him here, Jack needed information.

“As best I can figure, this was supposed to be the formal dining room where the admiral gathered his senior officers and guests for meals and private briefings. With an admiral aboard, this had to be a flagship, so that would make sense.

“None of the furniture is still aboard, or if it is, it’s deteriorated past the point of usefulness, so this compartment is going to remain empty. Shall we step into my living room so that we can discuss this in slightly more comfort?”

“In a minute,” his father said absently, studying the galley and attached steward’s quarters. “My goodness, someone had a fire sale.”

Jack considered trying to hurry his father along, but it wouldn’t work. He was going to do this his own way, and prodding his father was just going to piss them both off.

Once he’d given that side of the compartment a good look, his father walked through every compartment in his new quarters, taking stock of the shabby furniture where it existed and at the empty spaces where it didn’t. When he was done, the two stood in what amounted to Jack’s new living room.

“I’d offer you something to drink, but I suspect that if I touched any of the water taps, they might break off in my hand,” Jack said. “Even if they didn’t, you probably don’t want to drink the water.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “Is it that bad? I realize that this is just a giant floating museum, but things seem to have deteriorated quite a bit further than a ship in mothballs is supposed to. I’ll make a few calls and see if I can arrange to spring some things to make this more livable for you. Since I’m the one responsible for putting you here, it’s the least I can do.”

Jack sat down on one of the seats and winced as a spring poked his behind. He rose and moved to a different seat that, while lumpy, wasn’t outright dangerous to his uniform and flesh.

His father seemed amused by that and picked a spot on the couch after verifying that it wouldn’t bite him.

“Why do all of this?” Jack led off. “Your note was cryptic, to say the least.”

“I wrote that note years ago, so I don’t recall precisely what I said, but I’ll lay it out for you,” his father said, crossing one leg over the other. “You were still a commander back in those days. I kept my ear to the ground, and I knew that you’d make it to captain—even after that incident with the liner—but that you’d never make it any further.

“And before you get angry, that’s not a judgment of you as an officer but of the resistance to having another Romanoff in the flag ranks. I made a lot of enemies during my time at the Admiralty, and I knew that they’d conspire to make sure that you got the boot when your term was up. That was mainly a consequence of my actions, so I came up with this partly as a way to make up for it.”

Everything his father had said was true, but he still managed to sound condescending. Maybe it was just Jack, but his father had always had something of a superior air about him. He just needed to keep a level head, accept the words at face value, and not inject what he believed into the conversation.

“There’s also the fact that the Admiralty is taking bids to promote people these days,” Jack said. “My replacement as the commanding officer of Hawkwing paid LaChasse two hundred and fifty thousand Confederation dollars. She told me that she expected any commodore’s slot would be filled by someone that could pony up more than half a million.

“Please tell me that you didn’t pay her—or anyone else—for this promotion.”

His father grimaced. “That’s an odious practice and not something that I had anything to do with. I understand that the Confederation Council is continually cutting the Navy budget, but it makes me squirm to think of the kind of people that are probably buying their way into command. We should be promoting the best and brightest, not the richest and most well-connected.

“And to be clear, I didn’t pay anyone a red cent for your promotion. While I did use my influence to ensure that my successor endorsed your orders when I retired, it wasn’t paid for with money. Sometimes compromises have to be made in order to achieve the results you want. That’s another lesson you’ll learn as a flag officer.”

The two of them sat in silence for a few seconds before Jack nodded. He wasn’t happy his father had done something like that, but it wasn’t a surprise. He had a well-earned reputation as a horse trader.

“Well, I can’t say that Admiral LaChasse was pleased when I circumvented her orders to muster out. Doing anything with her watching me like a hawk is going to be challenging. What was the purpose of all this anyway?”

His father uncrossed his legs, put his hands on his knees, and leaned forward. “Have you spoken with Doctor Prescott about his research into the Locusts?”

Jack shook his head. “Time has been limited. I’d have probably done so shortly if I hadn’t had to deal with you first. I’ve got so many things that I need to be looking at that I can’t begin to figure out how I’m going to find time to eat, much less sleep. Assuming, of course, that I can possibly sleep on the bed they managed to find for me.”

“I can’t disagree with that assessment,” his father said with a humorless smile. “Like I said, this ship is in pretty bad shape, and that’s discouraging. The Admiralty is paying to keep all of the old battleships at a minimum level of maintenance, but it’s evident that the money hasn’t made it to this ship in a very long time, which leads me to why I put you in this precarious position.”

He was pretty sure that wasn’t the only reason his father had done what he’d done, but the man would never come right out and say so.

“For the last several decades, Doctor Prescott has been warning the Confederation Council that not enough research has been done into the Locusts and that he suspects the first invasion was nothing more than an exploratory probe,” his father continued. “He’s afraid that some of them went back to wherever they came from and that their report may spark an even bigger invasion at some later date.

“I used my influence to get him his current position about a decade ago, which he’s likely come to regret. I’m sure that he believes that no one cares about his reports and probably doubts that they’re being read. I have no doubt about the latter after having guffawed at some of the footnotes in his recent reports.”

“Do you really believe that?” Jack asked in an even tone. “If so, why didn’t you do more before you retired?”

“I believe that it’s at least possible now. Back in the day, I didn’t believe his warnings at all, though they’re what made me decide that I needed to look into the status of the battleship division.

“Unfortunately, even grand admirals have an expiration date. I reached the end of my service and was forced to retire even though I would’ve loved to continue doing the work. Such is the Navy way.”

That was the damned truth, as Jack had every reason to know.

“If I’d known back then what I know now, I’d have lit a fire under more people to make sure we were prepared for a potential invasion,” his father said with a sigh. “Mind you, I’m still doubtful that any such thing is likely, but with the Navy pared down to the bone, I’m not sure that we could even stand off an invasion like the one we dealt with two hundred years ago.

“We’ve trained to fight should a second invasion come, but the Confederation Council has bled the Navy white for longer than both of us have been alive combined. We hope that our weapons are more effective than the brute force these battleships could bring to bear, but that’s only an educated guess. If we’re wrong, humanity is completely screwed.”

Jack considered that and nodded thoughtfully. “So, you want me to take steps to inspect the battleship division, make certain that it’s actually being maintained, bring those vessels back to a minimum standard of maintenance, and assist Doctor Prescott in his research.”

“I’m not certain that the good doctor is going to need your assistance in his research, but it probably can’t hurt,” his father said with a shrug. “You’re the one that needs to be paying attention to his warnings and deciding if they’re credible. You report directly to Grand Admiral Carbonaro. If you think that Prescott has found something that warrants the Navy’s attention, it will be your job to convince him of that fact.

“Not that such a thing would be easy, mind you. It’s evident that he never followed up on my concerns about the battleship division. That’s not a good sign as it relates to how much cooperation you might expect from him.”

“Probably not,” Jack muttered. “Is there any positive news?”

“There should be plenty of spare parts and munitions stored with the rest of the battleships. The missiles for the Hunter-class of ship aren’t used anymore. They all rely on the phased packet plasma guns that the Navy thinks are up to the task of taking out as many Locust drones as they might face.

“You’re going to have to figure out where everything is and try to at least bring this ship back up to the specifications necessary for being mothballed. She’s not an active-duty warship anymore, but if the fight were to break out again, she’d be summoned back to service immediately.”

What a nightmare that would be.

“If that were to happen, you’d have to go with whatever you had,” his father said, his expression uncharacteristically serious. “Unless you want to be the hero of some video story that’s forced to fight with only what he can scrape up, you need to get a handle on this right away.”

Jack snorted a little and shook his head. “Admiral LaChasse has assured me that if I’m foolish enough to return to headquarters, she’ll have me arrested. If I was silly enough to requisition anything from the supply department, I feel confident that the answer wouldn’t just be no, it would be hell no. Exactly how am I supposed to overcome something like that?”

“If I had the answer to that, then I wouldn’t need you, would I? While there might be a confrontation if you return to headquarters, she’s not going to arrest you. You’re not in her chain of command, and your orders are perfectly valid, no matter how much they might piss her off.”

Jack remained unconvinced. She’d seemed more than pissed off enough to take her chances arresting him.

“As far as dealing with supplies,” his father said, “I’m afraid that you’re going to have to think outside the box. If you’re willing to accept a little bit of help from me, I might be able to find someone to figure out what actually happened to the money that the battleship division should’ve been getting. It’s always possible that some of it can be recovered.

“As much as it might gall you, as well as being the commander of the battleship division, you’re the commanding officer of this vessel until you appoint someone qualified to the position—if you choose to do so. I’d wager that no one currently serving aboard her could handle that, so for at least the time being, you’re going to have to wear both hats.”

Jack really didn’t want to be drawn into another one of his father’s schemes, but it was a little late for that now. The moment he’d accepted those orders, he’d become part of whatever came next. The question now was whether he was going to give it everything he had.

As irritating as the situation was, the answer to that was never in question. Of course he would.

“I suspect that I’m going to need more help than you can give me,” Jack muttered. “I was looking at the controls on the cutter that brought me over, and they’re so different from what we currently use that I couldn’t have flown it if my life had depended on it. That’s going to be true for almost everything on this ship, I suspect. And more bodies would help. What can we do about that?”

His father pursed his lips and furrowed his brows as he thought. “If we can locate some of the money that was meant to be used for this vessel’s maintenance, it’s possible that we could find enough people to run her, at least minimally. They’d need to learn how the controls work, but that’s doable.

“You’ll need even more people to bring everything back to operational status, and I don’t know if that’s going to happen. Whoever diverted the funds has almost certainly spent them. We might be able to use some kind of legal maneuver to pry something back, but such an outcome probably isn’t going to be quick or easy.”

No, it wouldn’t. It might not even be possible.

“Luckily for you, as a member of the Faustian Council, I can use my political capital to try to expedite something like that. I’ll start looking into it tomorrow. While I do that, you’re going to have to wrap your head around everything that’s happening here. It won’t do you any good to have funds available if you don’t know what needs to be fixed, how many people you’re short, or have a plan to guide everyone going forward.

“Moreover, whatever Doctor Prescott has found will tell us how much pressure we have to bring to bear on the powers that be. Is this something that can be stretched out over decades? That would certainly make everything simpler. Is it something we need this year? That’s impossible to imagine, but without knowing the obstacles and the threats we potentially face, how can we respond?”

Jack couldn’t believe that he agreed with everything that his father had just said. Worse, he was already thinking of how he could make things move faster. Dammit. The man had drawn him into his plans so thoroughly that they were becoming his own.

“What exactly do you hope to gain by doing this?” Jack demanded. “You always have a plan inside a plan. You’re offering help, so you expect something in return. What is it?”

His father smiled coolly. “You have such a mercenary opinion of me. I wish that I could deny any ulterior goals, but in this case, you’re right. I hope to use the information you get—both from the state of these ships and about the Locusts—to build a platform to get myself on the Confederation Council. Perhaps all the way to the presidency.

“And before you give me that patented look of disapproval, you’re getting plenty of value for helping me. This is the kind of work that needs someone with a conscience doing it. For all my many flaws, I really do care what happens to the Confederation.”

Jack wanted to be angry, but he only felt tired. His father was his father, and he wasn’t going to change.

Yet, there was something to what he said. This did need looking into. If there really was a second Locust War on the horizon, they needed to be getting ready for it now. The Confederation Council had to be shown the truth—whatever it was—and compelled to loosen the purse strings. Time was a commodity that might very well be in short supply.

“I want to make one thing very clear,” Jack said in a low voice. “If I find out that you’ve been playing me or that there’s some other plot going on, I will hang you out to dry without a moment’s hesitation. Do you get me?”

“Then it’s a good thing that I’ve laid all my cards on the table,” his father replied. “You know everything that I do, and you know what it is I want accomplished. I don’t have any other goals at this time.”

At this time. That was an interesting qualifier.

“If you add more goals, I want to know about them the moment you make the decision. No hidden agendas.”

“You have my word as an officer and a gentleman.”

His father wasn’t known for going back on his word, so that would have to be good enough, even though Jack still had a feeling that he didn’t know the whole story. His father would always have his own agenda, and Jack would find out about any surprises at the last possible moment. Probably when he had no choice but to accept them.

He could only hope they weren’t too bad.

“I haven’t got the slightest idea how long it’s going to take for me to get a handle on the situation aboard this ship,” Jack confessed. “It’s been a while since I’ve been on Faust and I planned to make a trip down in the next few days to visit mother. I suppose I’ll have to see you too, so I’ll update you then.”

“Don’t sound so glum,” his father said with a grin. “Just imagine how much of a stir you’re going to make at the shuttle port in that uniform. I’ll make sure that your mother is right there to greet you because I want to capture every moment on video.”

“I hate you.”

“I’ve known that for years, but in this case, I think I can live with it. So, is there any decent food aboard this ship, or do I need to leave before you poison me?”

8

They were, in fact, able to get something to eat. The mess hall that Hutton led them to was small for the scale of the ship but still just as big as any that Jack had ever seen on a station or planetside.

The majority of it didn’t appear to be in use, perhaps only a third of the tables being clean. And on a ship with cleanliness issues, dirty meant really dirty. It was a health concern and would have to be addressed sooner rather than later.

Sadly, the food quality was about what he’d expected. It probably wouldn’t kill them, but it certainly wasn’t a pleasure to eat. That meant that their meal was brief, for which Jack was grateful.

After the meal, he and his father parted ways, with Hutton taking the former grand admiral back to his cutter, chattering on about something, much to the bemusement of the latter.

Once they were gone, Jack sat back down and considered the situation. There was so much to do. Where exactly did one start with a project this large?

It wasn’t like other issues he’d dealt with over the years. The problems here were many, systemic, and widespread. Like the food.

It wasn’t that it was terrible. Instead, it just seemed that whoever was doing the preparation perhaps didn’t have the skills necessary to make the most out of the meal. He’d eaten worse, but never in a Navy mess hall.

Perhaps that was a good place to start. Everyone had to eat, so what went on in the galley affected the morale of the entire crew. Which, based on the available seating, probably wasn’t all that large. An actual headcount was another piece of information that he really needed to get his hands on.

Jack could feel everyone’s eyes following him as he carried the trays and dishes to the washer. He was being judged, though he had no idea by what standard. Were they silently laughing because he was wearing this silly uniform, or were they just worried about what his presence meant for their lives?

Honestly, in their places, he’d be more worried about the latter. A new commanding officer meant change, and that was never comfortable. Still, it didn’t have to be frightening. He’d need to have an all-hands meeting soon.

This wasn’t the kind of thing that one handled by ship-wide announcement. They needed to see his face as he spoke for there to be any hope that they’d trust anything he said. And he wasn’t willing to bet that the ship-wide communications system was actually functional either.

Once the trays, cups, plates, and utensils had been returned to the appropriate racks, he located the entrance to the galley and headed that way. He walked slowly since he didn’t want to give anyone the impression that he was heading in there to tear someone a new one.

To his great surprise, the galley looked to be in decent shape. It wasn’t all in use but the parts that were seemed clean enough. There were still the smells of old grease and other things that indicated more remained to be done, but it was a promising beginning.

Only two people—one male and one female—were working there, dressed in work coveralls like the rest of the crew, with yellow piping. They wore dirty white aprons and hairnets.

The blonde, curvy woman looked at him as he came in, and Jack could see her eyes narrow. “If you’re here to complain about the food, sir, then we’ve already heard everything you could possibly say. This is the best we can do, and if you’re not happy with it, I’ll be happy to hand you my apron right now.”

Well, that was direct and to the point.

“That’s not exactly why I came in, Petty Officer…”

“Ashford. Nicole Ashford. My fellow prisoner is Josh Azzopardi. If you’re not here to chew us a new one, then what can we do for you? Excuse my tone, but we’re kind of busy.”

“I’m sure word is already spreading that you have a new commanding officer, and that’s me, Jack Romanoff. All I wanted to do was see what’s going on here and ask if there’s anything you need. Damned if I know how I’d find anything for you, but it’s my job to do that.”

“A couple of actual cooks would be a good start. Neither one of us really knows what the hell we’re doing in here, but we’ve been better at this than the people who were here before us.”

Jack held up his hand, frowning. “Wait a second, you’re not actually trained as cooks?”

“Not even a little bit, sir. We’re just the unlucky duo that doesn’t suck as badly at it as everyone else. I’m sure that the quality of the food we’re getting probably isn’t the best either, but I’m not really in a position to judge.

“If you want to know what we need, then I’ll tell you. We need somebody that knows what the hell they’re doing in the galley. After doing this for six months, I’ve got to tell you that I’m more than ready to be back in engineering. I’ve considered poisoning the crew to get out of this job, but I haven’t gotten quite that desperate. Yet.”

Jack nodded. “I can see where that would be a problem, and I’d prefer to keep the poisonings to a minimum. I’ll add it to my to-do list. Thank you for your time and for the hard work that you’re doing. I’m sure that everyone understands that you’re doing your best.”

At that, both of the petty officers laughed.

“Yeah, that’s not how this works, sir,” Azzopardi said with a derisive smile. “We get abused any time they’re not happy with what we come up with. Well, too bad. If they don’t like what we come up with, they can come in here and cook for themselves.

“And the same is true of you, sir. If we don’t make what you like to eat the way you like to eat it, you’re welcome to come in and try your hand.”

Jack grinned. “I suspect that my cooking would be significantly worse than yours, so I’m not going to complain. Instead, I’ll try to get someone that can cook transferred here and get you back to where you should be. Again, thanks for the meal.”

He walked out of the galley before they could respond, not wanting to raise their hopes too far. He wasn’t sure that he’d be able to find anyone to bring aboard the ship, no matter what his father said.

When Jack exited the mess hall, he spotted Prescott lounging in the corridor and headed over to him. “If you were waiting out here all this time, why didn’t you just come in and join me after my father left?”

Prescott pushed himself away from the wall and dusted off his jacket. “This was your first real interaction with the crew, and I didn’t want to interfere. So, what did you think of lunch?”

“Passable, but only just. I took a few minutes to speak with our cooks and found out that they’re not really cooks at all. My father said that he would try to find a way to get us some additional people, so I suppose I’ll have to add a couple of cooks to that list.”

The older man nodded. “Meals are rather hit and miss, I’ll grant you. Ashford and Azzopardi do their best, but cooking isn’t their forte. The crew really does try to cut them as much slack as possible, but that’s sometimes difficult. Sadly, you’re going to find that this kind of thing runs true in just about every department. I don’t want to slander anyone, but even when someone is working in their assigned specialty, they’re not always the most skilled that one could hope for.”

“Just how many people do we have aboard?”

Prescott simply shrugged. “I don’t honestly know. Far fewer than what’s actually required to maintain a vessel like this. You’d have to ask Danek for an exact number.

“So, I suppose the next question is where you’d like to go first. Should I take you up to the bridge or down to engineering to meet her?”

Jack considered the options. He really should go down to engineering and speak with the other officer, but he was curious to see what the bridge looked like. “Are you talking a regular bridge or flag bridge?” Jack asked. “With an admiral aboard, this is obviously a ship designed to have both.”

“Actually, it isn’t. During the war, these were such large commands that they often operated with no more than a few battleships working together. Anything smaller was just meat for the grinder, so they operated solo or in small packs. The admirals acted as both the ship’s commanding officer and task force commanders if need be. They’d sort out who was in overall command on an ad hoc basis. Their method of fighting was extremely direct, so there wasn’t much need for a large staff to support coordinating task forces.”

Jack spent a few moments imagining how that might have worked and shook his head. It wasn’t a concern at the moment, so best to focus on the tasks at hand.

“Let’s start off with the bridge,” he said. “As a former cruiser commander, I want to see how things compare.”

Prescott chuckled as he turned and led Jack down the corridor. “I believe that you’re going to find that things compare very favorably in this one instance. The bridge is one of the areas of the ship that has been fully restored so civilians can tour it.

“That was the case long before I arrived, and even though everything you’ll see there is running with recorded data, all of the consoles do work, as do all of the screens. Whether they’d actually function as designed in combat, I couldn’t tell you, but as far as things look, they’re great.”

“You’re not making me feel any better, Professor. I need to make sure I find out what’s not working and get it into shape so that Hunter can fight.

“The instructions from my father—and make no mistake, that’s what they were—are to bring this ship back into mothballed condition. A mothballed ship is supposed to be able to be brought back online quickly when called upon.

“That means all of the critical systems need to actually work. Once they do, we can shut them back down in a manner that preserves their functionality.”

Prescott shook his head as he led Jack to a bank of lifts. “The sheer scale of bringing Hunter back to that condition boggles the mind. Things have been left to rot for more than a hundred years. I wouldn’t trust anything that hasn’t been thoroughly checked by the people currently aboard her, and, even then, it’s not beyond question that the system in question would fail catastrophically when put to the test.”

“I was thinking the same thing about my quarters,” Jack admitted. “I have a suspicion that something terrible will happen if I turn the water on. Even if it worked, I’d be afraid to drink it.”

The scientist pursed his lips and nodded. “I understand that they did some rudimentary work to bring everything back to functionality, so your shower should work, but I suspect it’s going to function poorly. As for the water quality, you could say that the water on board this ship is passable, but I wouldn’t recommend drinking it without running it through a coffee brewer first.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. “Do we have any decent coffee aboard?”

“I’d hesitate to say that. From what I understand, Navy standards for coffee are somewhat below my own, and it still falls short according to the crew. All one can truly say is that it’s hot, bitter, and provides caffeine.”

They rode in silence as the lift took them to a new deck. When they arrived, Jack was surprised to see that the corridor they stepped out into was clean. Not just acceptably dirty, but actually clean.

“You don’t need to look so surprised,” Prescott said with a sigh. “We have to keep the areas where we get visitors in tip-top condition. Considering the small number of people that we have aboard, there’s not much time left to work on our living areas.

“If we had more hands, we’d make better progress. You can’t begin to imagine the scale of Hunter’s interior just based on what you’ve seen. Roughly eighty percent of the ship is in vacuum to take the strain off our life-support system and has been for more than a century.”

Jack nodded and started walking in the indicated direction. There was no murmur of people talking, a complete absence of footsteps in the corridors, and a sense of stillness in the air. It was as if the ship was asleep, waiting for its long-departed crew to return.

Prescott led him down the wide corridor to where it dead-ended at a massive hatch. The scientist tapped a code into the keypad, and the hatch slid open, revealing Hunter’s bridge.

If Jack had thought his quarters were outrageously large, the bridge made his jaw drop. Aboard Hawkwing, there’d been space for his seat and three consoles. Barely. They were jammed so tightly together that there was zero room to spare.

He now stepped into a bridge that had literally dozens of control consoles spread out in front of him, as well as three massive screens at the front of the bridge. And these stations weren’t jammed together either. They were spaced out so that people could easily walk around and between them.

The center screen showed headquarters as it floated along in orbit in front of them. Unlike what one might have expected from an ancient piece of technology, its resolution was excellent. After all, there was only so much one could do in order to refine a screen’s resolution before the human eye couldn’t tell the difference, and that had been the case since before humanity had made it out of the solar system.

The other screens were running what were obviously combat plots. Locust drones firing at the ship and taking fire in response. As he remembered from his own briefings, there had been a lot of them, and they really did swarm. No wonder the surface of the asteroid was scarred the way it was.

If he’d faced this kind of attack at short range with Hawkwing, he knew that he’d have been doomed. Hell, it was hard to imagine even the combined forces of the Confederation Navy being able to take or deal damage on this scale.

Each of the consoles was active, and their displays were working as though someone was using them. With their unfamiliar layout, he couldn’t make much sense of the activity, but it was obvious that the individual parts of those stations had been refurbished so that they worked.

Jack stepped over to the commanding officer’s seat and found that it was raised up on a small dais, giving the commander a good view of every station in the room. True, they wouldn’t be able to read what was going on, but if someone was knowledgeable about the systems, they could make an educated guess about what each was doing.

He knew that for a fact because it was one of the tricks that a commanding officer learned early. You could often tell something wasn’t right even before one of your officers reported it if you kept your eyes on their consoles and knew what to look for. The details would have to come from them, but you could spot unusual patterns.

He stepped onto the dais and sat. To his surprise, he felt no springs trying to dig into his backside. It was actually comfortable.

“We have to replace the cushions in that seat every season because so many people sit in it,” Prescott said with a smile. “As you might guess, many of our visitors choose to imagine they’re commanding this warship as it fights off the Locust invasion.”

“I can’t believe the bridge is so big,” Jack said, surprised at his reverent hushed tone. “This is the place where the real heroes of humanity saved us. It makes me feel… well, inadequate doesn’t cover it, but you get the idea.”

“Everyone else feels the same way in this place,” Prescott said gently. “I’m not a very religious sort, but this truly is a shrine, and I believe that the spirits of those brave men and women still stand ready to man each station and defend us again if required.

“Almost all of the consoles in front of you are related to gunnery. If you were just moving the ship and performing basic functions—assuming that the engines were actually capable of doing so—you’d only need a handful of people.”

Jack leaned back in the seat—his seat—and crossed his arms as he considered what it must’ve been like to command this vessel in battle. He’d done his share of war games as a cruiser commander; he imagined working here was significantly more demanding. The sheer amount of power at the commander’s fingertips back in the day was unimaginable.

He looked at Prescott. “What other parts of the ship have been brought up to this level of functionality?”

“Half a dozen missile and laser stations have been brought to the point where their controls and machinery would work if called upon. I have no doubt that the weapons themselves are nonfunctional, but with someone knowledgeable working on them, they could probably be brought back to operational status in reasonably short order if they had access to any removed parts.

“Some of the cabins on this level have also been restored, as well as a selection of other areas that we thought would be of historical interest to the general public.”

The older man’s smile widened. “You probably don’t realize it, but your quarters are only a short distance from here. I’d imagine that you could get here in under thirty seconds if you knew the way. We brought you there via the back way earlier because it was shorter.

“Honestly, what we’ve talked about is only a drop in the bucket of what it would take to make Hunter combat-capable again. As she sits right now, she can’t even move under her own power. We’re generating enough power to run the parts of the ship we’re using, but I suspect if more became necessary, we’d run up against a hard wall.”

Once again, the scale of the task in front of Jack ate at his confidence. Well, as his mother had always said, when you get a difficult task, it’s best to focus on the steps required to move things forward. You have to eat an elephant one bite at a time.

He’d never understood why anyone would want to eat an elephant, but the logic was valid. Getting the entire ship fixed would drive him insane. He needed to focus on the most critical repairs while his father found him parts and people.

And to do any of that, he had to know more about the crew. If he couldn’t convince them of the importance of what he was here to do, they’d balk and make his job immensely more difficult.

It was already impossible, so he needed to put his finger on the crew’s pulse and start earning their trust right now.

“I think it’s time for you to take me to engineering,” Jack said as he stood. “Lieutenant Danek and I need to have a long talk. I can’t do this without her support, so I need to make her an ally today.”

If that was even possible, considering what might have gotten her exiled to Hunter in the first place. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

9

Prescott took Jack down the deck’s primary corridor, and as they moved, he spotted the place where they’d stopped cleaning for visitors. It was a clear demarcation line, and after they’d crossed it, he thought he recognized the turnoff to his quarters. If so, he could definitely make it to the bridge in thirty seconds.

Once again, he’d have to learn what the locator markings meant so that he could find his way around when unescorted. It would be embarrassing to get lost and require a search party to see what he’d gotten himself into.

If eighty percent of the ship was in vacuum, there couldn’t be much more than engineering, crew quarters, and the bridge and surrounding environs with air and heat. Everything else would be locked down and probably in terrible condition.

He couldn’t afford to think about it. He had to work on the problems he could actually fix. Right now, that meant learning about his new crew and gaining their trust.

Well, as much trust as they were willing to give him. Only in fiction did a collection of rejects magically coalesce around a new leader. In the real world, that just didn’t happen.

Small steps, he reminded himself. He couldn’t accomplish miracles, but maybe he could start things down the road they needed to be on. He seemed to be off to a decent start with the crewmembers that he’d met thus far. Not acceptance, but not rejection either.

The two of them traveled toward the rear of the ship for a good distance, and Jack realized that the control center was near the center of the ship. He supposed that made sense. Even though it could have been anywhere, extra mass between it and potential enemy fire was always a positive thing for command-and-control.

They didn’t have to take a lift to get to engineering. The corridor ended at a massive hatch that was easily the equal of the one that sealed off the bridge. Once again, Prescott entered a code and the hatch slid open.

They walked up to a railing, looking out into the largest enclosed area Jack had ever seen. The engineering compartment stretched out far into the distance and many levels below them, as well as above them.

Unlike the rest of the ship, the gravity plates were obviously arranged to make the sides of the chamber into the floor. That was a challenge when it came to lighting, as every fixture had to be in the middle of the open space without blinding those working under them.

The area was filled with giant machines that he mostly recognized. There were massive fusion drives that could propel even this gigantic ship. There was also a colossal quantum drive designed to jump the battleship between stars without a gate. He’d never seen a quantum drive before, but the huge cube in the center of engineering could hardly be anything else.

To his surprise, engineering was well lit. Otherwise, he’d never have known how large it truly was. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to make sure every light worked and there was enough power to keep them operating.

That reminded Jack he needed to look around for the fusion plants. He was able to find four. Just one of these monsters would’ve been more than capable of providing every erg of power needed to run Hawkwing, with plenty to spare.

Jack gripped the railing and realized that it was clean. Not just brushed off at some point in the past, but actually polished. All the machinery that he could see inside the compartment looked to be in decent condition too.

He raised an eyebrow at Prescott. “I thought you said no maintenance had been done down here.”

“I’m sure that some work has been done, but without parts and enough hands, most of what you’re looking at is form rather than substance, I’m sure,” Prescott said. “Lieutenant Danek does what she can, but she’s got a limited number of technicians and almost nothing to work with.

“Is she a miracle worker? Undoubtedly. But there are limits that no mere mortal can surpass.”

Jack wasn’t convinced. Someone had gone to a lot of trouble to work on those engines. If they weren’t functional—which he granted was still probably true—the exterior portions had at least been cleaned. It spoke to a level of dedication that he was surprised to see, considering no one assigned to this ship actually wanted to be here.

Maybe it wouldn’t be obvious to someone like Prescott, but to a Navy officer who’d known his fair share of engineers and been in more than a few engineering spaces, the work that had been done here was obvious.

He’d have to ask some delicate questions to figure out what was really going on because there was a mystery afoot.

Prescott tugged his arm and they walked to a lift that took them down to the main level. Unlike the lifts he’d traveled in thus far aboard Hunter, this one operated smoothly and was just as clean as the other equipment he’d seen in the engineering compartment. Another anomaly.

When they came out of the lift, Jack stopped and looked around the area, spotting four people clustered around one of the enormous fusion drives toward the rear of the compartment. They had a number of access panels off, and the way they kept looking into the drive implied that someone was inside the drive itself.

Without waiting for Prescott to say anything, Jack started in their direction, not making a lot of noise but not trying to hide his approach either.

One of the four—all of whom were dressed in work coveralls with yellow piping—turned his head slightly and spotted Jack’s approach. He immediately reached out and shook the arm of the woman next to him. She blanched and poked the other two. She turned toward Jack and took two steps forward.

“Sir, Chief Petty Officer Yoo, senior noncommissioned officer in the engineering department. We didn’t expect a visit quite so soon. If we’d known you were coming, we’d have been better prepared.”

That didn’t sound even the slightest bit suspicious.

Jack smiled slightly, wondering what she was hiding. Well, it wouldn’t be sporting of him to just ask. It was much more entertaining to watch her squirm and try to come up with excuses and perhaps give away what was going on simply by the way she dodged.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Chief. I was actually looking for Lieutenant Danek. Is she by chance inside the engine?”

The woman blinked a couple of times. “Ah… yes, sir. I can let her know that you’re here, and I’m sure that she’ll come out momentarily to speak with you.”

Jack took off his hat and shrugged out of his coat, then handed both to Prescott. “I have some familiarity with engineering, even though I’m not an engineering officer myself. Why don’t I just poke my head in and see what’s going on for myself? This should be very educational. I assume everything is powered down, right?”

The woman nodded jerkily, her eyes just a little wild. “There’s no power to the drive, but it’s tight in there, and I don’t want you to get your uniform dirty, so I really think that I should go let her know that you’re here.”

Oh, yes, the woman was definitely hiding something. She was on the verge of panic.

“I wouldn’t want you to put yourself out, Chief,” Jack said. He got down on his hands and knees and started working his way into the machine. “Just stay here with the professor while I go find Lieutenant Danek.”

While he’d never worked on anything like a fusion drive or even seen one this large, he could tell that the interior was in far better condition than he’d expected of equipment that hadn’t been maintained in a century and a half.

Because the drive was so large, he had to work his way down what was basically a tight crawl space to get to various access points. Not into the center of the drive, of course. These crawl spaces would circle the interior and provide access to everything else, even if they were occasionally a pain to get into.

The farther he crawled, the more apparent it became that someone had been lavishing quite a bit of care on this drive. Not everything was shiny and bright, but there were enough parts that looked new or refurbished that it was apparent someone was attempting to make this drive functional again.

As Hunter’s commanding officer, he wholeheartedly supported that goal. If that’s what they were hiding, he’d enthusiastically endorse whatever they were doing and try to help them in any way he could.

It did raise a few interesting questions, though. They had no funds to work with and no access to supplies that he was aware of. Where had they gotten the parts? Were they able to fabricate them aboard Hunter?

That seemed unlikely. One would still need a lot of raw materials that wouldn’t be readily available. Curiouser and curiouser, as Alice once said.

He was still pondering the mystery when he got to the end of the crawlspace and saw that it took a ninety-degree turn upward. There was a compact ladder built into the side of the new shaft, and about five meters above his head, a woman had one of her legs wrapped around the ladder and her torso stuck inside an open access panel. He could hear her banging on something with a tool of some kind.

Jack climbed out of the crawlspace, stretched, and pondered whether he should just stand there and wait for her—Lieutenant Danek, he presumed—to finish what she was doing or climb up and talk to her.

Since she might be working on something delicate or even lose her grip on the ladder if surprised, the smart thing to do was wait. He absolutely didn’t want to make an engineer break something because that would rightly piss them off.

It was just plain luck that he happened to be looking up when Danek stuck her arm back out into the shaft and dropped something. Forewarned, he was able to catch it instead of it smashing into his head.

He examined the hand-sized piece of equipment but was no wiser about its purpose when he finished. It looked old and had probably failed at some point in the distant past.

Danek’s posture had changed. She was now very still, as if she were listening. Maybe she’d expected to hear the part crash into the deck, and the lack of said crash made her wonder what was going on.

It was time to make himself known, so he cleared his throat loudly. “Lieutenant Danek? I’m sorry to interrupt you, but I wonder if I might have a few minutes of your time.”

The woman laboriously extracted herself from the tight space she’d been wedged into. Once she was out, she looked down at him with an expression that he couldn’t decipher. Her pale face was framed by nonregulation length brown hair, and she had, well, extensive eyebrows.

Both of which were furrowed.

“Who the hell are you, and what are you doing inside my engine? Get out right now.”

Jack did not retreat. He also didn’t raise his voice because he had no desire to get into any kind of shouting contest with her. He kept his tone neutral and offered a slight smile.

“I’m Commodore Jack Romanoff, Hunter’s new commanding officer. I just arrived and was taking a look around. I have a few questions for you. Do you have time to address them?”

Any junior officer knew that they made time for a commanding officer’s questions—much less a flag officer!—yet he could see the desire to tell him to screw off still on her face. She wanted to run him out of her domain and deal with him on her terms, but she couldn’t quite figure out how to make that happen.

She sighed somewhat dramatically. “I suppose I don’t have a choice. If I want to get back to work anytime soon, I’m going to have to deal with you. Fine. Put the regulator down on the deck. I’ll dispose of it later.”

Jack carefully set it in the corner of the shaft and then got down on his hands and knees, making his way back out of the drive. He could hear movement behind him and was sure that he was slowing her down. He didn’t have the same level of skill at moving through these tight spaces that she did.

That was probably annoying her too.

She seemed like the kind of person who got annoyed a lot. He was going to have to keep that in mind. While he didn’t want to get on her bad side, he’d have to find a way to deal with her prickly personality if he wanted her help getting the ship back into operational condition before they both died of old age.

Not that he wasn’t half convinced that she was already on board with that plan. He just wasn’t sure how she’d managed it.

When he was back in the main engineering compartment, he took his coat from Prescott and shrugged it on. He was putting his hat back on just as Danek came out of the crawl space.

She looked even thinner out of the confined space. She also looked angrier. Interestingly enough, though, not with him.

“Dammit, Yoo. I thought I told you to turn the lights down.”

The chief petty officer shrugged. “I thought we had a little bit more time, LT.”

“I have the suspicion that there’s something going on I should probably know about,” Jack said, interrupting what promised to be an epic dressing down.

Danek sighed again and gestured toward a door on the side of the main engineering compartment. “We can do this in my office, sir. If you don’t mind, I’ll have my people continue doing the work I assigned them. Maybe this time they won’t stand around gossiping like magpies.”

“It’s your department, and I’m not going to run it for you. Do what you think best.”

She stalked into the office and held the door open for him. The interior seemed to have just about every cliché he could think of about engineers prominently displayed. There were stacks of manuals everywhere. There was no flat space without at least a couple of feet of material piled up.

She had a desk, but there was no possible way that she could see anyone that came into the office while she was sitting at it. That, of course, assumed she could actually sit in the chair. It probably had a stack of material on it as well.

If there was a chair. He couldn’t tell with all the clutter.

The walls were covered with complicated engineering diagrams. They were schematics of Delta Orionis that indicated things like power, life support, and personnel corridors. They were far more detailed than anything he’d seen thus far, and all of them were peppered with stick pins of various colors whose meanings were inscrutable.

Danek didn’t offer him a seat—likely because there wasn’t one—and glared at him from the center of the compartment. “I heard that we were getting a new commander, but I didn’t know any of the details. Up until now, I’ve been the senior officer on board this ship, and I’ve been doing what I think best. If you’re going to rake me over the coals, then let’s get this over with. Sir.”

Jack raised both of his hands in a defensive posture. “I’m not sure why you think that I intend to tear a strip off of you, Lieutenant. Have you done something I should be angry about? What would make you think I would be angry?”

“No one gets assigned to this ship because they want to be here. I can’t even begin to imagine how a flag officer screwed up badly enough to end up here. We’re all Navy rejects, and if you’re here, that means that you’re just as screwed up as the rest of us, but I don’t have any idea what your malfunction is yet.

“I can’t work around a superior officer that I don’t understand because they do things I don’t expect. If we’re going to work together, I need to know how badly you’ve screwed up and what you’re going to do to us.”

She ran her eyes down his form. “And I need to know why anyone would choose to wear a clown suit like that. I swear the people in the old Navy must’ve been insane. Don’t you feel like you’re playing make-believe?”

Well, that was refreshingly blunt. He could work with that.

“I’m not sure about the uniform, but now that I’ve been caught in it, I suppose I’ll have to keep up appearances. Don’t worry. I won’t order anyone else to wear them because I agree with everything you just said.”

Her mouth fell open a little at his admission. Good. Having her a little off balance might make her say more than she’d prefer.

“Would you believe that I was a cruiser captain who was about to be cashiered and my father pulled strings to get me this promotion and assignment? I literally have no idea what I’ve walked into?” he offered. “As for my malfunction, as you so colorfully put it, Vice Admiral LaChasse hates my guts and has threatened to arrest me if she ever lays eyes on me again.

“I’ve also been given an impossible mission by my father—who was once the Grand Admiral of the Navy—and I’m going to have to work with people that screwed up badly enough to end up here with me. Does that help?”

The woman stared at him. Apparently, she hadn’t expected such a direct response and, considering her personality, that amused Jack to no end.

“I… see. What exactly is your secret daddy mission?”

“My father thinks that Doctor Prescott is on to something, and he’s worried there’s going to be another invasion. I’m not so convinced at this point, but he wants me to get this ship back into fighting shape.

“Personally, I can’t imagine how that’s even remotely possible, but I’m going to do my best to make it happen anyway.”

He smiled a bit. “Sadly, that means that I’m going to dump a lot of work on your people. I’m trying to find additional hands and maybe some money and supplies, but you’ll have to shoulder the load.

“Though I have to say that you’ve done far more down here than I’d ever expected to see. Hell, this is the cleanest place I’ve seen on this vessel except the bridge. It might not be functional, but you’ve made great strides, Lieutenant. Well done.”

She frowned and crossed her arms over her chest defensively. “Are you serious? You really want to see Hunter functional again? If so, just how far are you willing to go to make it happen?”

Jack grinned. “I’m willing to bend regulations into pretzels if it gets the work done, just to spite the admiral and my father. That encompasses a lot of shady things, but I’m sure that there are some lines I won’t cross. But I’m willing to talk about anything. What do you have in mind?”

Rather than answer him, the engineer paced the small, cleared area in front of her desk, going back and forth several times, her head down and obviously thinking. She was considering telling him something that he might not like. Or perhaps something that would get her into serious trouble.

Or both.

Eventually, she turned to face him, took a deep breath, and put her hands on her thin hips and looked directly into his eyes. “We’ve been dealing with the black market to get supplies that we can’t get any other way. Some of our people are mining unused parts of the ship for precious metals to pay for the parts and supplies.

“I didn’t start this process, but I continued it. If you’re going to arrest me, just get it over with. I accept full responsibility for everything that’s been going on.”

Considering how much work had been done and what it cost to maintain a ship of any kind, they were talking about a large sum of money. More than enough to build a brand-new jail to bury them under if someone had the inclination.

Well, in for a penny and all that.

“Lieutenant, while I’m sure that mining precious metals from the ship violates some regulation or another, I personally couldn’t care less, so long as it gets this ship into fighting shape.

“To my mind, it’s just using the ship’s assets creatively. The metals were already here so they belong to the ship, and using them for what you needed was perfectly acceptable.”

Of course, he probably didn’t want to dig too deeply into the dealings with the black market. There had to be details that he didn’t want to know.

He felt his eyes narrow slightly as he considered Hutton in the role of smuggler and black marketeer. The man had charm enough for that kind of thing, that was for sure.

Yeah, best not to ask too many prying questions.

“If that’s all you’re talking about, I not only endorse what you’ve done, I think we need to expand your operation,” he said.

She stared at him, goggle-eyed with shock. “Are you joking? You should be flying into a rage at everything I’m doing. It’s a damned criminal conspiracy. You should be hauling my ass to the brig right now.”

“And yet I’m not,” he said mildly. “Instead, I’ll want a full report on what you’ve managed to do so far so that we can expand your operations. Not the black market part. I don’t need to know the details of that. I’m talking about the ship’s condition.

“Whatever you’ve been thinking, it’s too small. Just how much of the ship have you got working? Some of the machines here in engineering? I’ve got to tell you, everything looks good.”

“Yoo was supposed to shut off most of the lights so it didn’t look like anything was operational,” Danek grumbled. “You can bet I’m going to chew her ass off once I’m done in here.

“You want to know how much work has been done? I’m not sure how long the engineering staff has been doing this kind of thing, but it’s been a long time. They’ve been working on everything in engineering for at least the last century.”

The unexpected news made him blink in surprise, but he didn’t say anything.

“The fusion drives pass self-checks, so they should function if we need them to, though, for obvious reasons, I haven’t dared test them,” she continued. “Two of our fusion plants are mostly functional, but they’re operating in standby mode.

“Primary power throughout the ship has been restored but only on the main junction lines. Nothing going out from there has been worked on because it was too chancy. We didn’t want any strangers asking awkward questions. Too late now, I suppose.”

Jack was shocked. That was far more functionality than he’d expected this ship to have. With the fusion drives online, the ship could leave orbit and maneuver on its own. That was an astonishing accomplishment.

“What about the quantum drive?” he asked.

She stared at him for another couple of seconds and then sighed again. “According to the engineering logs, it’s been functional the entire time the ship has been here. Hunter could leave this system at any time if we had supplies to keep us breathing and eating.”

Jack grinned so widely that his face almost hurt. An impossible task had become merely extremely difficult.

“That’s damned good news! If I could promote you or shower you with medals, I’d do it. Instead, I’m going to hand you more work.”

“I’ve had promotions,” she said. “Pass. I was a commander five years ago and the chief engineer on a cruiser before they busted me down. I’d prefer not to talk about why if you don’t mind.”

“I don’t care,” Jack said firmly. “We start fresh here, all of us. Whatever happened before we came to Hunter doesn’t matter. What matters is what we do now.”

She regarded him for a few moments, her lips pursed. “Then I think you should talk with the professor. I’ve been helping a little with his research, and he’s got some spooky stuff in his lab. If you’re worried about a Locust invasion, then you need to know what he’s found and get him some tools to dig deeper. We may not have nearly as much time as we’d like.”

And with that ominous statement, she opened the door to her office and stalked out into the main engineering compartment, already yelling for Yoo.

It appeared that his audience was over.

He left her office, not bothering to hide the grin still plastered across his face, and gestured for the professor to accompany him back to the lift. It sounded as if he still had a lot to learn, but this was just the kind of kick in the pants he’d needed.

10

Once they’d climbed into the lift, Prescott gave Jack an evaluating look. “What exactly happened back there? I think I missed something.”

“I’m still gathering information at this stage, and I’d rather not get into it until I’m certain that I fully grasp the situation,” Jack said. “To get there, I need to see what you’re researching and hear what you’ve found so far.

“I want you to be very clear about what is fact and what is theory, though. If you know something to be true, say so. If you suspect something, I need to know that there’s some level of uncertainty. Can you do that?”

The scientist nodded. “That should be fairly straightforward. To show you exactly what we’re looking at, we have to go to my lab. It’s not far away because the area around engineering is filled with nooks and crannies suitable for my work. The compartment I chose was once some kind of storage space, but nothing has been kept there in a very long time.”

The scientist sent the lift car to his deck and led Jack to a hatch off the primary corridor, which he unlocked with a code on the keypad. Behind it was what Jack immediately recognized as a compartment used to store nonperishable food and other basic supplies that required climate control.

It was sizeable. He imagined that a ship like this had a number of similar compartments to keep the supplies needed for a large crew close at hand.

Which reminded him that he hadn’t gotten a precise count of the people under his command from Danek. He’d have to circle back to her at some point and nail that down.

Though there were no supplies stored there, this particular compartment was far from empty. It contained equipment—both on tables and freestanding—and wreckage stacked near or leaning against the walls. The equipment wasn’t familiar to Jack; the wreckage was obviously left over from the Locust War. Wreckage still popped up from time to time inside the Perseus Cluster because cleaning up thoroughly had been impossible.

As one might expect, the remains of the drones in this compartment were damaged in various ways. Either they’d been blown apart by missiles or sliced and melted by high-energy lasers. In addition, they’d all been disassembled to some degree, so it was obvious that they were no longer functional.

“Tell me the computers you’re using to examine these things are isolated,” Jack said, scowling at the scientist. “I understand the idea of alien technologies inserting computer viruses into our systems is something of a stretch, but it’s far better to be safe than sorry.”

“I hope no one else takes me for such a fool,” Prescott said with a smile. “Indeed, everything in this room is isolated. Even the power comes through a custom circuit breaker designed to detect anything trying to access the power cables. If it were to sense something like that, it would immediately shut off power to this compartment. Lieutenant Danek designed and built it for me.

“In all the years I’ve been doing research here, I’ve been using the same wreckage, and I can assure you that none of it has a power supply of its own. I’ve extracted their cybernetics—or what would pass for such in our society—and I’ve found the appropriate voltage and current they require through experimentation.”

Prescott gestured at the nearby junk. “They seem to be in some kind of standby state—they don’t initiate action when brought back online. At least nothing that I’ve detected indicates they’re attempting to influence their surroundings in any way.”

“Any idea why?”

“I believe that they’re awaiting a specific wake-up signal. They likely traveled in their motherships in a suspended state. When they were needed, the motherships brought them to life.

“Being powered off simply returned them to that state, and I have no way to reactivate them, which is probably a good thing, or else some idiot would have put one back together from scavenged parts and precipitated an atrocity.”

Jack stepped farther into the compartment and saw additional debris piled against the rear wall. A lot of machines had either been disassembled or brought here in pieces, and some of them didn’t look like drones.

“Are those parts from a mothership back there?”

The scientist nodded. “From one of the last groups that we fought. It was blown apart by a missile. There was no damage to the cybernetics, but it lost power, and that was good enough for me to demand it when I discovered that it was in one of the holding facilities the Navy maintains for war salvage.”

Jack held up a hand as he walked closer to the wrecked alien warship. “Wait a minute. The Navy has piles of these things just lying around?”

“Indeed they do. More than one might expect. All of these devices were supposed to be studied to learn what we could about whoever sent them. And to be fair, that happened for several decades after the war, but most research stopped a hundred and fifty years ago when the funding started drying up.”

Jack ran his hand along the metal of the destroyed mothership. It had been built by sentient nonhuman creatures. They assumed the aliens were aggressive and warlike, but they knew literally nothing else about these beings.

Personally, he’d be happy if it stayed that way.

The scientist walked over to a table with a portable computer and laid his hand on it. “I’ve read every report those researchers wrote. They were a good starting point, but the investigators didn’t delve deeply enough. Computer science back then was primitive, and we didn’t learn how the Locust drones functioned. We still don’t understand, honestly.

“Your comment about the difficulty of inserting a virus into an alien computer system is an excellent case in point. Outside of adventure videos with no real grasp of science, it just isn’t possible. Simply understanding how human computer systems work is challenging. An alien system? Far more difficult.

“Working one’s way to getting meaningful responses from alien systems is almost impossible. That’s the kind of research that should’ve been happening since the war. Sadly, the Confederation Council starved it to death. I only hope that their parsimony didn’t doom us all.”

Jack listened carefully as the scientist spoke.

“And what exactly are your suspicions, Professor? Better yet, exactly what’s making you suspicious?”

Prescott half-turned and gestured at the various machines. “In the decade I’ve been able to study this hardware, I haven’t been trying to read what’s contained in the computers that these devices were controlled by. Instead, I’ve concentrated on trying to understand the functionality of the hardware itself.

“I’ve been working to interpret the power requirements when the computer systems started up and when they were running. That burned out more salvaged equipment than you might guess.

“When I solved that problem, I went on to what input generated any response at all versus silence. I’ve been trying to set the parameters we need to help us learn what was on these machines. Learning to walk before I tried to run, so to speak.”

Jack could only imagine. If it had been him, he doubted that he’d have managed even that much.

“The drones have a data drive, but it’s a crystalline structure and radically different from anything used by humanity,” Prescott said. “I suspect that it was written once and never changed. I believe they have a set of prescribed responses to circumstances they detect when not controlled by the mothership.

“When the Locusts arrived in the Perseus Cluster, the motherships released the drones and sent them forward to attack everything in space. The assaults were indiscriminate, and they didn’t care whether someone was fighting or fleeing, or if the target was a warship, a freighter, or an escape pod. All of those details were irrelevant to them.”

“I remember that from the briefings,” Jack said grimly. “If they could catch it, they’d kill it.”

“And it wasn’t all simply about the methods of attack, though those attacks took different forms depending on how the drones coordinated with one another. You’d probably know more about that than I do, but it seemed to be based on the number of targets and the number of drones involved in the attack. Those variables perceptibly altered their aggression levels.

“The more overwhelming their number was, the more they swarmed. If their number was low, they’d use randomized strafing runs where individual drones would come in from many different directions, trying to confuse the defensive systems on the ships they were attacking.”

There had been a lot of that kind of data in the training he’d gone through, but he’d never seen a real pattern to their attacks. Not that he doubted there was one.

“Once again, you’d have to tell me how effective that was, but it was apparent all of these things were preprogrammed because they behaved the same way in the absence of the motherships,” Prescott said with a shake of his head.

“Each of the crystal data structures I’ve examined is identical down to the smallest detail that I’m capable of detecting. If that’s true, whoever designed these weapons laid out as many potential scenarios as possible and programmed the drones to respond in very specific ways, though we know the motherships could order them to do different maneuvers on command. Does that make any sense?”

“It does, but I’m not sure why that would make you worried. Shouldn’t it reassure you? These are fire and forget weapons. You launch them and then forget about them because they’re going to do what you want them to do, and you can do something else.

“Why doesn’t the way these things are designed mean that they’re throwaways?”

Prescott smiled and pointed toward what remained of the mothership. “It’s the mothership that concerns me. The motherships don’t have crystalline data structures, they use something more complex by orders of magnitude. They’re capable of making decisions based on the situations they encounter, which is understandable.

“For example, when a mothership arrives in a solar system, it launches drones to examine the system. If it doesn’t detect signs of habitation in space, it collects them and moves on. We know this—or something very much like it—to be true because the Confederation took the time to scour uninhabited systems inside the Perseus Cluster and found no evidence of Locusts.”

He shook his head. “Are we to believe that they arrived in a system having picked it out of the ether? That’s extremely unlikely. The populated system they invaded first had only been settled for about thirty years. Not only was its population level low, but its presence in space was minimal.

“The Locusts couldn’t have known about our use of quantum gates, so what drew them to that system? My working hypothesis is that they traveled in one giant cloud, moving from system to system, looking for something that matched their criteria. Us, as it turned out.”

Jack crossed his arms over his chest and considered what the doctor had said. It was all very theoretical, and there was nothing that he’d consider a smoking gun for an imminent follow-up invasion.

He now understood his father’s resistance to the professor’s ideas, though he admitted this type of research needed doing. Why had his father changed his mind? And why had Lieutenant Danek said he needed to listen closely to what the professor had found?

“Danek said that she’d assisted you in your research and that some of the results were concerning. What specifically?”

Prescott indicated a table with a strange alien device on it. “This is the central computational core of the mothership. Lieutenant Danek assisted me in getting it connected to power and bringing it to a state of partial functionality.

“We’ve experimented on it quite significantly to see if we could garner any responses from the machine itself, without success, but the lieutenant was able to make an educated guess at how long it had been since it was built and activated.”

He put his hands on his hips and turned back toward Jack. “It had to be active in transit because the hyperspace drives needed continuous monitoring. That allowed her to give us a working radius for its travels of no more than three thousand light-years based on it being active for roughly two hundred years before the war and factoring in the suspected ten times the speed of light speed of their hyperdrives.

“They almost certainly stopped in many systems over that time, so the direct-line distance to their point of origin is likely significantly lower. That would mean that any reports about their discoveries could have gotten home years ago.”

“Any estimates on how far away they came from? That seems like something really important to know.”

“Statistically, I’d postulate that their point of origin was between eight hundred and twelve hundred light-years, with the median being more likely. None of the recovered hyperdrives were usable—either from battle damage or self-destruction no doubt intended to keep the technology out of other hands—and we never cracked the secret of that kind of travel ourselves, so all we have are educated guesses.

“If our assumptions are accurate, potentially, there’s been enough time for reinforcements to reach us. That’s my concern.”

“But it’s only an educated guess?” Jack pressed. “You don’t have any proof?”

“None,” he said with a sigh. “Hence why no one believes me. I’ve become the boy crying wolf. Those ships that potentially went back could’ve taken information garnered from the war. The Locusts might know what kinds of weapons we used to defend ourselves.

“Their lasers were markedly less powerful than those on this battleship, but they had them in vast numbers. They didn’t use missiles. What if the aliens that created the Locusts send a new force with something more powerful to bolster their odds of success? Even with our advanced weapons, we might be in for a very unpleasant shock.”

That revelation made Jack start pacing much like Danek had earlier. If the aliens had any idea what they’d faced two hundred years ago, they’d have created something capable of beating it. If they knew about the battleships, humanity might be screwed no matter what he did.

Even if they didn’t know about the battleships, they might still have some information on the missile systems and lasers that the initial forces they encountered had fought with.

This was all very hypothetical, but if the Locusts returned with a larger force armed with more powerful weaponry, the cruiser force that the Navy had now was going to be at a severe disadvantage, even with the powerful phased packet plasma guns they were armed with.

“I can see where that would be concerning,” Jack admitted when he came to a stop and returned his attention to Prescott. “I can’t just jump right in and say this is definitely the worst-case scenario, but we do need to get you help figuring out precisely what the data on this mothership data core means.

“Meanwhile, I still need to get Hunter back into fighting order as quickly as possible. I’m going to contact my father and see if he can find a few people with the skills to assist you. If we can figure out what kind of time frame we’re looking at, it would at least give us an idea of how desperate the situation really is.”

Prescott smiled. “And that’s the best that I can realistically hope for. I’ll continue to do the work but having some professionals in data analysis and unusual systems assisting me might take something that we’ve already learned and turn it like a key in a lock, opening the entire thing to us in a surprisingly short time frame. Or deciphering the data might be impossible. There’s no way of knowing.”

“My father should be back on Faust by now. I’ll send him a message amending what I’m looking for and follow up with him when I go down in a couple of days.”

“Thank you,” Prescott said. “What will you be doing between now and then?”

“Meeting as many of the crew as possible. None of this will work if I don’t earn their trust, and I’m only beginning to understand who they are. Danek has been working behind the scenes, so this is no longer an impossible task, but it’s still one where the odds are stacked heavily against us. If we’re going to succeed, I’ll need your help convincing them to support me. Can you do that?”

“I suppose we’ll find out,” Prescott said, clapping a hand on Jack’s shoulder. “Why don’t I start by taking you around to the various departments? We’ll meet every single person aboard the ship over the next couple of days so that you can look into their eyes and get to know them.”

“When you’ve done that, what’s next?”

“I’ll pull everybody into a meeting and tell them what we’re trying to do and why. I have a shot at convincing them to work with me, but I won’t know if I can swing it until I try. It’s risky, but the rewards are immense if it works. Let’s get started.”

11

Over the next few days, Jack met most of his crew one-on-one. It was just as awkward as he’d feared. What sane person wanted to make idle chitchat with a flag officer, after all?

He started in engineering and made certain to speak to each of the technicians he’d already seen. He didn’t try to convince them of anything, only asked them to tell him a little bit about themselves.

He didn’t expect any grand secrets, and they didn’t share any. They were all guarded and cautious, obviously nervous about his presence and interest in them.

And that was really what he was trying to address. If they saw him as an enemy or an outsider, he’d never get them to work with him. He had to make them see him as one of them.

Since he’d started with the engineering team, he made sure that they knew his primary goal was getting the ship back into an operational state.

He also made sure they knew that he not only approved of everything they’d done so far but that he saw their efforts as just the beginning. Their successes had to be built upon, and that was going to require getting the portions of the ship that weren’t functional back into working order.

He explained his plan to get more bodies onto the ship to start doing the work, telling them that he was counting on them to help make the magic happen because they knew the ship better than anyone else.

Even though they were noncommittal, he could see that his compliments were having some effect. As though against their will, they started to accept that he wouldn’t stop them from doing what they were doing. Instead, he was going to try to help them do it faster.

With this group, that carried weight, so he’d definitely have to work hard to uphold his end of the bargain because failure to do so would sour things damned fast.

That wasn’t to say that they were a friendly audience by any means, but any good words that got out to the rest of the crew would be helpful.

As the professor took him to other parts of the ship, he met the crew in dribs and drabs. He did his best to remember the crew’s names but ended up having to take notes after each meeting to make sure that he remembered who he’d spoken with and any details that he pried out of them.

He did ask personal questions, and even though not everyone was forthcoming, he picked up some details that he could use to help him in his quest to bind them to him.

One person had a sick mother, and he could ask about her condition the next time they met. It wasn’t that it was a trick, either. He actually cared. That was one of the hallmarks of a good commanding officer. You had to know what was driving your crew. If they had needs, you either had to make sure those needs were met or that you took steps to help them meet them themselves.

In the case of the sick mother, he’d send out a note inquiring if there was anything that the Navy could do to assist in her recovery. It might not be possible, and with the budget cuts they’d gone through, help was unlikely, but making the attempt would count for something.

And who knew? The Navy might actually come through.

If nothing else, his mother was a retired doctor and undoubtedly knew someone who could help. One way or the other, he was sure someone could help.

When it came to bringing people together, it was often the little things that showed you cared. It helped if you actually cared, and he did.

These folks might not be the cream of the Navy, but they were his people, and he’d go out of his way to make sure that they got the support they needed. It had been awhile since anyone had cared about them, but he did, and they needed to know that. Not just to think it might be true, but to feel it deep in their bones.

That didn’t mean everything went smoothly, of course. Meeting new people was always a chancy thing. Everyone came with their own preconceptions, and sometimes people had problems with those in authority.

He could tell that a significant minority of the crew didn’t particularly care for him, and he could live with that. One of the life lessons he’d learned was that if you tried to make everyone like you, you’d never accomplish anything, and they still wouldn’t like you.

You just had to be yourself and accept that you needed to work with people whether they liked you or not, and whether you liked them or not. He’d served with people that cordially loathed one another but worked flawlessly together. That was what professionals did.

Honestly, growing up with a father that he detested had been a big help in learning that particular lesson. Outright hostility had gained him nothing as a boy, but so long as he stayed civil and mostly cooperative, he accomplished the things he wanted to despite his father’s cold personality and authoritarianism.

Jack made note of the people that looked like they were going to be trouble with the intention of talking to others about them. If he could nail down what made them tick, he could still work with them. Probably.

With communications aboard the ship being spotty at best, some of the crew proved more than a bit difficult to locate. In fact, there were still two crewmembers that he hadn’t been able to lay eyes on.

Both of them worked for supply, and others claimed to have seen them, but they never turned up anywhere that he or the professor looked.

Part of him suspected that they two had actually deserted, and the rest of the crew might just be covering for them. If that was the case, he’d have to deal with it eventually, but it was a problem for later.

He’d met enough of the crew to get a general idea of who they were, what they were doing, and let them know what he hoped to accomplish. Now he needed to bring them all together and see if his initial efforts would bear fruit.

If they even grudgingly accepted the goals that he was trying to set, he might be able to succeed. If they rejected him, success was going to be significantly more difficult. Or impossible.

The best place to have the all-hands meeting was the mess hall. Even though it wasn’t as clean as he’d have wished, it was big enough to hold the entire crew. According to Danek, the ship had sixty-five crew. Sixty-seven, including himself and the professor.

That wasn’t even close to enough to run the ship. A battleship like Hunter required a minimum crew of about five hundred people, according to Danek. If he wanted to have enough people to deal with battle damage and actually let people rest, then he’d need four times that number. At the height of the war, these ships had crews of five thousand crew. That was going to be impossible for him to duplicate.

And he didn’t need to. He wasn’t going to be taking Hunter to war. He wasn’t even going to take her out of orbit. If he could get five hundred people, he’d be thrilled and count it as an unvarnished win.

The best he could do without a functional ship-wide comm system was to let the various crew members know that he wanted to have a meeting in the mess hall after lunch. He’d started passing the word earlier in the day so that it had time to percolate out to everyone.

He considered wearing coveralls like the rest of the crew but ultimately rejected the idea. He’d started out wearing the old-style officer’s duty uniform, and if he changed now, it might make them think that he was trying to ingratiate himself.

Sure, they probably thought that he was a little eccentric, but he could deal with being something of an iconoclast. Everybody aboard the ship had a little bit of crazy in them, and maybe that would be the thing that tied them all together.

Jack showed up at the mess hall half an hour before the meeting and found a place to sit and drink some execrable coffee while he waited. The professor wasn’t with him today because this was supposed to be his moment to shine.

He had to admit he had some butterflies. There was a lot riding on this meeting, and there were so many ways things could go wrong.

On the flip side, there were very few ways things could go right. There was no magic bullet to bring everyone to his side with honeyed words. This was just one step, hopefully in the right direction.

Individually and in small groups, the crew filtered into the mess hall and found seats. He counted as they came in and wasn’t surprised when the two missing crewmembers failed to appear.

He got to his feet, drank the dregs of his coffee, shuddered, and walked to the open space that he’d decided would be his stage. He hadn’t been stupid enough to put a lectern or anything like that up. This was going to be as informal as he could manage.

“Good afternoon, everyone,” he said with a smile. “We’re still missing a couple of people, but I’ll go ahead and get started. You can pass what I say on to them the next time you see them.

“Unless I’m mistaken, I’ve spoken with each of you one-on-one about my goals. In a perfect world, I’d expect you to take me at my word about what I’m looking to accomplish, but this isn’t a perfect world.”

He paused a moment to let that sink in.

“Let me be frank. Each of us is here because we’ve screwed up or been screwed over. I don’t exclude myself from that category either, so let me tell you how I ended up aboard Hunter. I was a captain—a cruiser commander—on my way to muster out of the service when this opportunity dropped into my lap. I’d screwed up badly enough to have a mark on my record that made sure I’d never be promoted.

“I think I’m a good leader, but sometimes that doesn’t make up for the mistakes you’ve made. You see, when I was a helmsman, I very nearly rammed my ship into a cruise liner. I never shook that off, and to this day, it’s a cloud over my head. One I just couldn’t get out from under.”

He looked out over the sea of faces and saw that most of them were simply listening. There was no real sense that what he’d said had made an impact on them, and that was okay. Small steps.

“I haven’t looked at any of your records, and I don’t intend to,” he said, sweeping his gaze over them. “What happened before we came to Hunter isn’t relevant. Here, we all start fresh, so you don’t need to worry about me holding anything over your heads.

“You all know the professor and what he’s been looking at. I’m not going to tell you I believe the doom and gloom version of what he fears will come to pass, but it’s obvious that we need to get this ship back up and running. If things go down the crapper, humanity is going to need Hunter desperately. They’re going to need us, and we have to be ready.”

“Forgive me, sir, but I don’t think that’s going to carry a lot of water with us,” Hutton said from a seat near the front of the mess hall. “We’ve all heard things like that before, and nothing ever changes. Hell, the supply people won’t even give us food. How are we supposed to get this ship working again if we can’t get the parts we need? Or the hands? You sure as hell aren’t going to be able to make them cough anything up. I should know since I’ve been trying to get parts and supplies every single month since I got dumped here. So did the woman doing my job before me. Same for the man before her. Zip. Nada. Zilch.”

Jack was grateful for the opening. This was the perfect opportunity to show he could shake things up.

“I hope you kept detailed records because I’m going to use them as a club to beat the supply section over the head,” Jack said with a grin. “One of my other burdens is that my father used to be the Grand Admiral of the Navy. That’s earned me a lot of enemies, but it also gives me an angle to try to stop what’s been going on.

“He’s a politician on Faust now, and he’s already told me that there’s something fishy going on with the money that was supposed to come to the battleship division for maintenance. You see, the Confederation Council allocates money every year to keep the mothballed battleships in fighting condition. None of that money has made it here in a very long time.”

“It’s going into somebody’s pocket, for sure,” Hutton said with a frown. “I’m something of an expert at how money flows, and while I didn’t know we were supposed to be getting any, I’m sure there are parts and supplies that are meant for this ship that the supply depot is selling on the black market.

“I know because I’ve bought parts on the black market that we should’ve been getting from supply. They couldn’t have been for any other ships in service, so it has to be our spare parts. Those bastards are as corrupt as they come, sir. Since I used to be a logistics officer, I should know.”

Jack blinked. Hutton had once been an officer? That was interesting and potentially very useful.

“My father is looking for somebody that can help me track down where the money has gone, but if you’ve been requesting things and they’ve been turning you down, I’m going to want to see all of those requests and their responses. It won’t take me long to figure out what we should’ve been receiving, and I’m going to raise bloody hell to see that we get what we need.”

Hutton smiled slightly. “I like your moxie, sir. I’m not so sure about your overall chances of success, but I’ll make sure you get everything I have.”

“Good. I’m going down to see my father this afternoon, and I hope he’ll have some good news for me. I don’t expect tracking down the money is going to be simple or easy, but if anyone knows where the bodies are buried, it’s him.”

He opened his mouth to say more, but several people he didn’t recognize entered the mess hall. The first thing that made them stand out was the fact that they were wearing current Navy uniforms. There were half a dozen enlisted personnel and a single lieutenant.

It didn’t take his crew long to spot the interlopers, and everyone got to their feet to see what was going on.

The officer stared at Jack, and his lip curled into a mild sneer. Without bothering to wipe the look off of his face, he marched into the crowd and let the enlisted people with him form a wedge to push everyone in their way to the side.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Jack asked coldly. “Who are you, and what are you doing aboard my ship?”

“Is that what you call this fossil, sir?” the officer asked. “I wasn’t aware that a run-down museum qualified as a ship. With all of the reprobates here, it’s more like a prison ship, if anything.”

Jack leaned forward and made a show of studying his nametag. “Lieutenant Randall, I don’t believe that I care for your tone. Is that how you speak to every flag officer you meet? What the hell are you doing aboard Delta Orionis, and why the hell shouldn’t I throw you right back off?”

“Not that it’s any of your concern, sir, but we’re here to arrest Petty Officer Joby Hutton on charges of black-marketeering and embezzlement. Stand aside and let us carry out our duty.”

A grumble rippled through the crowd, and a wave of hostility rose. The enlisted people with the lieutenant put their hands on their sidearms, seemingly unconcerned.

That was extremely shortsighted of them, considering this crew.

“Even if Petty Officer Hutton were in this compartment—which he isn’t—I wouldn’t hand him over to you,” Jack said as he stepped toward the officer in a manner that drew his attention away from Hutton, who was surreptitiously sliding away through the crowd. “You see, you don’t have any authority here.”

The officer laughed. “We’re the shore patrol, so we have the authority of the Navy behind us. If you continue to impede us from carrying out our duties, I’ll place you under arrest as well. Sir.”

Jack grinned. This couldn’t possibly have worked out better for him. Nothing brought a group of people together quicker than an external threat.

“Delta Orionis is listed as mothballed and has an active duty crew assigned to her, Lieutenant Randall. According to regulations, you can’t just waltz aboard my ship and arrest whomever you please. The people under my command are subject to my jurisdiction. If I feel there’s sufficient cause to level charges against one of them, I’ll initiate those proceedings myself and convene a board to mete out punishment according to the Navy articles as is my right and duty as this vessel’s commanding officer.

“If you have any evidence against Petty Officer Hutton, I’d like to see it. If not, get off my ship.”

Every word Jack said infuriated the lieutenant further. By the time he finished, the man was almost literally foaming at the mouth.

“Sir, you’re under arrest for impeding the shore patrol in its duties,” he snarled. “Surrender peacefully, or we will subdue you.”

“Oh, I’ll go along peacefully,” Jack said, his smile never wavering. “By the time this is finished, you’re going to wish you’d never stepped foot aboard my ship. Someone make sure that the professor hears about this.”

“Cuff him,” Randall said, gesturing for his people to take Jack into custody.

Hunter’s crew seemed to take a collective step forward, and Jack held up his hand. “Easy, everyone. There’s no need for violence. If these men want to arrest me, then I think I should go with them. It gives me a chance to beat them at their own game.”

For just a moment, Jack wasn’t sure that they’d back down, then Danek cleared her throat. “You heard the Commodore. Stand down.”

Hutton was nowhere to be seen by that point, and Jack had no doubt that even hundreds of searchers would fail to turn him up. The only person the shore patrol was going to be bringing back today was him.

While he couldn’t be sure how this would play out, he had to admit he was grateful that the admiral had stuck her oar into his business. It could be a huge step toward bonding with his crew.

Assuming that he didn’t end up in the brig, of course.

The enlisted personnel cuffed his hands behind his back and frog-marched him out of the mess hall. Jack gave his crew one last reassuring smile as they hustled him away. One way or another, he’d find a way to turn this to his advantage.

12

As Jack had suspected, the flight to headquarters was uncomfortable. Not only did they keep him in restraints, but they also strapped him into an acceleration couch much more tightly than they really needed to. By the time they landed, he’d almost lost the feeling in his hands.

Randall seemed to derive great pleasure from making sure that everyone possible saw him pushing Jack out of the cutter. For his part, Jack kept his head high and smiled at people as they passed.

It might be mostly bravado, but not completely. Things could still go badly wrong, but he had to draw a line with Admiral LaChasse. She couldn’t interfere with his command with impunity.

She’d no doubt disagree, and he needed to settle this once and for all. Hopefully, it would be resolved in his favor, but this was her territory, so he couldn’t exclude her coming out on top. Still, he didn’t play to lose.

When they finally got to the detention center, they stripped him of his greatcoat, hat, boots, scarf, and belts. He was left sitting in a cell in his socked feet, trousers, and tunic.

As the lieutenant was smirking his way out of the cell, Jack spoke up for the first time since they’d taken custody of him. “I want to speak with my JAG representative.”

Since he’d been officially detained, he was entitled to representation by the Judge Advocate General’s office. This wasn’t a right they could deny him, and he looked forward to seeing what one of the Navy lawyers had to say about his situation.

Randall stopped at the door to the cell and shook his head. “The admiral has decided that she wants to talk with you without any distractions. Sit quietly and wait until she gets to you.”

Jack had to admit that he was surprised. Such a casual violation of his fundamental rights wouldn’t go over very well when it came to light. And it would come to light because he’d make a point of talking to JAG about it.

His arrest was nothing but harassment, and it wasn’t going to stick. As soon as his representative heard the details, it would set in motion a chain of events ending with his release.

At least he hoped.

For the moment, he was just going to have to be patient. The admiral was no doubt going to let him stew for as long as possible. This was a power play, pure and simple. One he had no choice but to accept.

In the end, he sat in the cell for almost three hours before Randall returned with a couple of shore patrol petty officers. They once again cuffed his hands—in front of him this time—though they allowed him to put his uniform back on first.

They didn’t take him far since the shore patrol’s detention facility had an interrogation room. LaChasse was already sitting there, casually leaning back in one of the chairs. Her eyes almost twinkled as she watched him being forcibly seated in the other chair.

“I can’t believe that someone who outright stole a promotion from under my nose would have the gall to think that they could defy the shore patrol or my authority. In case no one’s ever told you this before, Romanoff, you’re an idiot.”

“Is this interview being recorded?” he asked politely.

“No. This is an unofficial conversation.”

“Then I’d like to return to my cell because I want everything that we discuss to be on the record.”

She laughed. “This delusion that you’re somehow in control just because of who your father is doesn’t mean that the world will change to suit you. I’ll be honest, I didn’t expect you to fall into my hands so easily. Why in the world would you stand up for one of those criminals assigned to that wreck?

“You know what? Never mind. That’s not important. All that matters to me is that you did, and now I can make you suffer for it. I might not be able to kick you out of the service because of this one infraction, but you can rest assured that I’m not going to stop until I build a list of things large enough that I can. Do you doubt me?”

“I do,” he said mildly. “I report directly to the Grand Admiral’s office, not to you. You have no authority over me or anyone else aboard Delta Orionis. Sending the shore patrol to my ship was a violation of Navy articles, and I’m going to make sure that JAG hears about it.”

LaChasse laughed again, this time even more derisively. “You are so naïve. I command this entire sector and all the Navy personnel in it. I don’t care what kind of historic throwback you think you are with that ridiculous uniform, but I wield the power here. That museum isn’t a Navy vessel. It’s just a hunk of rock that can’t even move under its own power.”

She almost sneered as she said that last bit. It wasn’t a pretty look.

“I’ve already sent a report to the Grand Admiral’s office, and I have no doubt that I’ll be receiving a reply in six weeks authorizing me to strip you of this promotion and expel you from the service. By the time it arrives, I’ll have probably more than enough evidence of wrongdoing to throw the entire crew on that hulk into the brig.

“I hadn’t realized that there were even active-duty personnel on board that rock, but now that I do and I see how undeserving they are of being in the Navy, I’ll correct that.”

Jack shook his head and chuckled. “Once again, we’re not under your command. Delta Orionis might be an inactive Navy warship, but it falls under the battleship division, which I head, so you have no authority over the ship or anyone serving on her.

“In fact, I have evidence of wrongdoing in headquarters because the money meant for the maintenance of the battleship division has been diverted without authorization, and the supplies that are meant to maintain those vessels seem to be for sale on the black market. I’ll turn that evidence over to JAG and let them sort out who the criminals truly are. Admiral.”

That statement made her eyes narrow. “The Navy has no cause to put funds or supplies into a damned museum. Whatever you think that hunk of rock is entitled to, it’s not. Stop living in a fantasy world, Romanoff.”

He was considering how to respond when there was a knock at the door. It opened without anyone actually giving permission for the person on the other side to do so.

A tall, brown-skinned woman with dark hair wearing the uniform of a Navy commodore and the unit patch of the Judge Advocate General’s office strode into the room. “I’m sorry that I’m late, Admiral, but I didn’t get notice that I needed to be here in a timely fashion.”

She followed her bland statement with a flat look directed at Lieutenant Randall, making him shrink slightly.

“Commodore Nastasi, this is an unofficial meeting, and your presence is not required,” LaChasse said. “That’s why you weren’t notified.”

Nastasi raised a sculpted eyebrow and looked pointedly at Jack’s shackled hands. “If this is an unofficial meeting, then might I inquire why Commodore Romanoff is restrained? I was given to understand that he’d been arrested for impeding the shore patrol during the execution of their duties. Was this in error?”

“I was arrested for exactly that,” Jack said before LaChasse could say a word. “I requested to be allowed to speak with someone from your office three hours ago, but Lieutenant Randall said that the admiral wanted to speak to me first. I inquired whether or not this interrogation was on the record and was informed that it was not, even though I requested that it be recorded.”

“Really?” Nastasi asked, drawing out the word in a flat tone. “Is that true, Admiral LaChasse? If so, that’s a gross deviation from Navy processes and a clear violation of Commodore Romanoff’s rights. Even as a serving military officer, he still has some of those, you know.”

Nastasi took one of the chairs, sat, and set her briefcase on the table without waiting to be invited. She pulled out a recorder, activated it, and placed it in the middle of the table.

“This is the official interview of Commodore Jack Romanoff in the matter of interfering with the shore patrol during their attempted apprehension of a suspect. Present are Vice Admiral Suzanne LaChasse, Commodore Jack Romanoff, Lieutenant Daniel Randall of the shore patrol, and Commodore Sara Nastasi of the Judge Advocate General’s office.”

Nastasi followed that up with the date and time and turned to Jack. “I have just been informed by the accused that he requested counsel and that Lieutenant Randall failed to notify JAG. Is that correct, Commodore Romanoff?”

“That’s correct, Commodore Nastasi. I attempted to inform Lieutenant Randall aboard Delta Orionis that he had no authority to be there or to take custody of any members of my crew. After I did so, I ordered him off my ship.

“He then arrested me, brought me here, and kept me sitting in a cell for three hours after I requested to speak to someone from your office about my defense. Admiral LaChasse was just informing me before your arrival—”

“That JAG would not be needed because we would not be pressing charges,” LaChasse interrupted. “There is no need for a hearing because he is not being detained.”

“With all due respect, Admiral, I’m still handcuffed. You seem to be under the impression that the crew of my ship and I fall under your authority, and you’ve made it very clear to me that you’re going to continue to harass us in direct contravention of the chain of command. That isn’t acceptable.”

“It isn’t acceptable?” LaChasse demanded. “Watch your mouth, Romanoff. Your tone is perilously close to insubordination. You don’t get to pick the regulations you prefer to follow.”

“To be insubordinate, I have to actually be subordinate to you, Admiral, which I’m not.”

“This is outrageous!”

Commodore Nastasi raised her eloquent eyebrow again, seemingly entertained by the exchange. “You claim that you’re not in Vice Admiral LaChasse’s chain of command. Please expand on that, Commodore Romanoff.”

Jack briefly laid out how the battleship division reported directly to the Grand Admiral’s office and that as the assigned head of that division, he didn’t fall inside anyone else’s chain of command, and neither did any of the ships under his authority.

He also pointed out that Delta Orionis was still on the rolls as a mothballed vessel and that as the senior officer assigned to her, he was her commanding officer. Thus, according to Navy articles, he was responsible for disciplining his crew, not the shore patrol, unless he chose to surrender someone to them, or it involved a capital crime.

With every word, he could see LaChasse’s blood pressure climbing. When he finished, she didn’t even give the JAG officer a moment to respond.

“Every word out of that man’s mouth was a damned lie,” the flag officer snarled. “As the senior Navy officer in this sector, I’m in charge of all vessels here and their personnel. That includes museum pieces that are not actual vessels in service.”

“If that were the case, Admiral, then why have my crew been forced to buy food on the open market rather than receiving their supplies from the Navy?” Jack asked, almost sweetly. “And why aren’t the supplies and parts for Delta Orionis being provided when my people request them from the supply depot?”

“It’s a museum piece, Romanoff. No one is trying to keep it from doing anything except falling out of orbit.”

“If you’d care to check my promotion orders, Commodore Nastasi, that should clarify at least some of the chain of command questions. A small amount of research will certainly answer the rest. Research, I’ll add, that Admiral LaChasse could have performed herself since she obviously had questions.”

“I don’t have any damned questions because you’re wrong!”

Jack simply smiled back at the admiral without responding.

“I can see that there are definitely some issues that need to be clarified,” Nastasi said. “That shouldn’t prove too difficult, and I’ve already started my staff looking into these very matters. I expect to have an update shortly.”

Even as she said that someone knocked at the door. Whoever this was didn’t open it until Nastasi instructed them to come in.

A young man with sandy brown hair wearing a JAG emblem and lieutenant’s rank tabs stepped through the door with a sheaf of papers. Behind him was Danek, who to Jack’s surprise was dressed in a uniform identical to his own except for her rank tabs.

She looked self-conscious but was also carrying a sheaf of papers. A sheaf significantly larger than the one the JAG lieutenant was carrying.

“Ah, Lieutenant Selter,” Nastasi said with a smile. “Just in the nick of time as always. Who is this with you?”

“Lieutenant Kelly Danek, Delta Orionis’s chief engineering officer,” he said. “She arrived just after you left with some paperwork relevant to the accused’s case, and I decided to bring her along so that you could ask any follow-up questions of her that you wanted.”

“A museum doesn’t have a chief engineering officer,” LaChasse growled. “That damned rock is not in service. Why do I have to keep repeating that? Are you all deaf?”

Without directly answering, Nastasi extended her hand and took the paperwork from her aide. She then proceeded to skim the first few pages and began slowly nodding.

“This does indeed clarify a few matters,” she said, looking up at the admiral. “But let me update the record first. Entering the interview is my aide, Lieutenant Zach Selter, and Lieutenant Kelly Danek, chief engineer of the Confederation Navy battleship Delta Orionis.

“You see, Admiral, it seems that the battleship division is indeed authorized by the Confederation Council and has active-duty Navy personnel assigned to Delta Orionis.”

That made LaChasse look like she wanted to swallow her own tongue, but Commodore Nastasi pressed on before she could speak.

“Commodore Romanoff is also correct in his assertion that he reports directly to the Grand Admiral’s office and is not under your authority. In addition, as he’s the recognized senior Navy officer assigned to that vessel, he is correct in saying that he’s responsible for the discipline of his crew. The shore patrol didn’t have the authority to arrest anyone aboard his ship or even to be there.”

LaChasse surged to her feet. “This is utterly ridiculous! None of that is true!”

“I regret to inform you that it’s all true, Admiral,” Nastasi said courteously. “Lieutenant Randall, please remove Commodore Romanoff’s restraints.”

The shore patrol officer’s eyes flicked between LaChasse and Nastasi, but he didn’t otherwise move.

“Did I only say that in my head, Lieutenant?” Nastasi asked, her voice suddenly arctic. “Release the man that you have illegally detained this very instant.”

Randall still didn’t move until LaChasse gave him a curt nod, and then he slowly unlocked the cuffs.

Jack rubbed his wrists but said nothing. Anything he did at this point would just derail what was already shaping up to be an entertaining show.

Danek cleared her throat. “Pardon me for interrupting, but Commodore Romanoff asked that we collect all of the requisitions for supplies that have been denied in the recent past and provide them to the JAG office. I brought them with me.”

Nastasi extended her hand again and took the rather hefty sheaf of papers. She set them down on top of her briefcase and began flipping through them, frowning slightly at first and then more deeply as she continued going through them. She flipped to the bottom of the stack, and her frown became a scowl.

“Vice Admiral LaChasse, you incorrectly asserted that you were responsible for the Navy personnel assigned to that vessel. If that was your belief, then why have they been denied the food and basic supplies that all Navy personnel are required to have? According to these records, they’ve requested these basic items month after month for at least fifteen years.”

“I didn’t even know they existed until today,” LaChasse retorted. “You’ll have to ask someone in the supply department about that.”

“That’s not all, Commodore Nastasi,” Jack said grimly. “The battleship division has a budget that hasn’t arrived for a very long time. Somewhere between the Confederation Council and here, the funds allotted for the upkeep of Delta Orionis and her sister ships have been diverted.”

If the news bothered her, it didn’t break through her stony expression.

“In addition, the supply depot is supposed to have parts and equipment for the mothballed vessels, and all requests for those parts have been denied. That has forced the crew to seek critical parts and equipment through nontraditional means so that they could attempt to perform their duties. I suspect that’s what led to the original charges that the shore patrol was trying to levy against Petty Officer Hutton.

“While I certainly don’t condone nontraditional supply methods, I can’t exactly blame the man when he’s being stonewalled by the people that have the critical supplies we’re supposed to have.”

“That’s utterly preposterous,” LaChasse said coldly. “We’re done here. Randall, you’re with me.”

Nastasi didn’t try to stop them from leaving and waited for the door to close when they were gone. “Vice Admiral LaChasse and Lieutenant Randall have left the interview. Commodore Romanoff, you’ve made some very serious allegations, but this paperwork does seem to back up at least some of what you’re saying.

“I’m going to open an inquiry to see if I can discover exactly what’s going on. While I do, I suggest that you return to your ship and allow my investigation to proceed. When I have any further information, I’ll seek you out, and we’ll discuss this further.

“On behalf of the Navy, I apologize for the way you’ve been treated. Rest assured that I will have some very firm words with Lieutenant Randall about your treatment at his hands. Your rights were violated, and I’ll make a note of that in your case file. Do you have any further questions or statements to make in this matter?”

“Not at this time, Commodore Nastasi.”

“Then that concludes this interview.”

Nastasi turned off the recorder and put it back into her briefcase. The paperwork—both sets—quickly followed it.

“I have to say that you’ve made a lot of waves, Commodore,” she said. “Admiral LaChasse seems to want to make an example of you. I think I’d stay out of her way for a while if I were in your rather stylishly old-school boots.”

“I didn’t come looking for her,” he said with a sigh. “I have a job to do, and I’d be happy to be left to do it in peace.”

Jack rose to his feet and extended his hand to the woman. She stood and shook it firmly.

“I think I’ll go down to the surface for a bit,” he continued. “My father was looking for someone that might be able to help dig into where the funds for the battleship division have been going. I don’t expect that what’s happened to them is legal and would guess that it’s been happening for a very long time.”

The JAG officer agreed. “Probably. Any inquiry will be run by my office. I’m willing to work with civilians on this matter since the money is allocated by the Confederation Council, but I will be running the show. Never forget that.

“We’re probably talking about an exorbitant sum of money as well, and whoever is involved won’t be pleased with us interfering, so watch your back.”

“That goes for you, too, Commodore Nastasi. Thank you.”

“It’s my duty and my pleasure. Until we meet again, Commodore Romanoff.”

And with that, she picked up her briefcase and left the room with her aide.

“I brought a cutter over for you, sir,” Danek said. “We can leave straight away.”

“Thank you. What convinced you to get into uniform? I thought the crew hated these things.”

She shrugged. “It’s not very comfortable, and it’s a pain in the ass when I’m working, but I’ll be damned if I let some outsiders think I don’t support you after you stood up for Hutton. Shall we go, sir?”

Jack grinned. “Hell yes, before somebody figures out another way to arrest me.”

13

They wasted no time getting back to the small craft bay. This time around, Jack had no trouble spotting their cutter and made a beeline for it.

To his amusement, two of the engineering petty officers stood next to the hatch dressed in uniforms markedly similar to the ones officers wore.

Their tunics and pants were somewhat darker, and their scarves—which were shorter than the one he wore—were a pale red. Their hats were billed caps of the same dark blue as the rest of their uniform with the ship’s emblem on the front, and they had no greatcoat.

From the way they kept looking at everyone passing by, they felt just as self-conscious as he did. The pair of them drew themselves up a little straighter as he approached.

“Looking good, people,” he said as he passed them. “Thanks for coming to pick me up.”

The four of them quickly entered the cutter and sealed the hatch. Jack discovered a fifth person waiting inside when he found the professor, sitting in the pilot seat.

“Don’t we have a trained Navy pilot?” Jack said as he strapped himself into the copilot seat.

“Not anymore. Lieutenant Scarborough left the service a couple of years ago, and he was the one who taught me. Now, if we’re speaking of people that don’t specifically have a license but could probably fly, Petty Officer Hutton disappears from time to time, and he has to be taking one of our small craft, so he must know how to fly them.”

This time, the engines didn’t make that terrible noise when the professor started them, but Jack wasted no time putting his headset on to cut out the noise inside the cutter. A glance back showed the others putting earplugs in, so he wouldn’t be able to communicate with them.

Within a few moments, they had clearance to depart, and the professor was deftly picking the cutter off the deck and edging them out into space.

“Have you ever taken this thing down to the surface?” Jack asked slowly.

“A few times. The automated systems are fairly robust, and I’m licensed to fly in both space and atmosphere. Don’t worry, I’m not going to crash. Why? Are we going down to the surface instead of back to Hunter?”

Jack nodded. “I think it’s time I had a conversation with my father. LaChasse is furious at being foiled. Again.

“She also knows that we’re going to be hunting for the missing money. While I’m pretty sure she isn’t the one stealing it, whoever it is won’t be happy when they find out that the cat is out of the bag. The sooner we can get someone digging into the matter, the better.”

The professor brought the cutter around headquarters and into the sunlight, causing the viewports to darken to protect their vision. “When I heard that you’d been arrested, I feared the worst. Exactly how did you escape the admiral’s clutches?”

“They made a big production out of not calling the Judge Advocate General’s office, and when the commodore in charge found out, she showed up at the interrogation and pretty much shut the entire thing down.

“I doubt very seriously that that’s going to dissuade Admiral LaChasse from coming after me, but it’s going to set her back a little, and we can’t afford to waste time waiting for her to make her next move.”

“Joby is grateful that you covered for him. Honestly, you probably made a huge stride toward being accepted by the crew when you stood up for one of them against the shore patrol. That was a shrewd gesture on your part.”

“I did it because it was the right thing to do, but I’m not going to pretend that I didn’t see the benefits even as they were cuffing me. If we’re going to get the ship back into functional order in the next decade, we’ve got to start now.”

“I know that you don’t fully support my theories, so why are you pushing this so hard?” Prescott asked.

“Because if I’m wrong, then inaction might doom humanity. It may not seem like it sometimes, but I take my duties seriously. My job is to make sure that the battleship division is prepared in case of another invasion. I can’t even examine the other ships, so I have to focus my attention on the one at hand.

“Hunter isn’t in as poor condition as she could be, but she’s certainly not in fighting shape. It will take time and a lot of work to get her ready to face the Locusts, should they reappear. I hope she’s not needed, but I can’t count on that, and I won’t.”

While Prescott filed a flight plan to enter the atmosphere, Jack considered whether or not he should notify his father that he was on his way. Eventually, he sighed and fiddled with the comm unit until he could make the call.

It required being patched through the planetary network, but his father’s voice came through his headphones in just a couple of minutes. “Is that you, Jack? I wasn’t expecting to hear from you quite so soon, considering that I just got word that you’d been arrested.

“You’re not calling for bail, are you? I’m not sure that my parole officer will let me associate with shady characters.”

“Have you considered stand-up comedy as a second career?” Jack asked acerbically. “You’re just killing the punchlines. Seriously, how did you find out?”

“Doctor Prescott called me as soon he received word that you’d been arrested and gave me the details. It’s just harassment at this point, and I’m sure that passing information along to the Judge Advocate General’s office will help deal with that kind of behavior going forward.

“Are you on your way down?”

“We are. Since LaChasse knows about the missing funds now, I figured that I should discuss the situation with you, particularly since Commodore Nastasi with JAG is now looking into the matter. She insists that the investigation be run through her office, but she’s willing to accept whatever help you’re offering.”

“Then I suppose it’s a good thing that I actually have someone lined up to help you. I also have a promising lead on getting parts and equipment for you, but you’ll need to divert to a different landing site to see everything.

“I’ll send the coordinates when we finish talking. It’ll take your mother and me a few hours to get there, but you can sightsee while you wait.”

“What exactly does that mean?”

“You’ll find out. I’m sending the coordinates now. Romanoff out.”

A few moments later, the professor turned to him with a slight frown. “I just received a different set of landing coordinates. Where are we going?”

Jack shrugged. “My father is being secretive, so it’s probably easier just to change the flight plan and see whatever it is he wants us to look at. He said that he’d meet us there in a couple of hours.”

“The new coordinates are almost on the other side of the planet, but it should be about nine in the morning by the time we arrive. It looks like some kind of auxiliary landing field rather than a primary spaceport. There’s not a lot around it, either. Are you sure this is the right location?”

“If they’re the coordinates that my father sent, then it must be. Let’s just look at this as an adventure. We’ll figure it all out when we get there.”

Prescott called traffic control and adjusted their flight plan. In short order, they were orbiting Faust and heading for the other side of the planet.

Jack was more than a little nervous when the professor finally dipped the cutter into the atmosphere, but he seemed to have a handle on what he was doing.

He really needed to dedicate some time to learning how to fly one of these cutters because he didn’t like being unable to intervene in an emergency. Just one more thing for him to fit into his already hectic schedule.

It took them roughly half an hour to get over the auxiliary landing field, and when they did, Jack wasn’t sure what he was looking at. There seemed to be tents everywhere around the field, except for one approach that was being used for takeoffs and landings.

He’d never seen anything quite like it. What purpose did it serve? Who were all those people?

Well, he supposed he’d find out soon enough.

Prescott came in slow and easy and landed on the grass near some other cutters. He set the big vessel down adroitly on its landing pads and started shutting down the engines.

As he did, Jack got his first good look at the cutters lined up around them and was shocked to see that they were the same model as the one he was in. The only real difference between them was that his looked like it was held together by spit and duct tape, whereas the rest looked fresh off the assembly line.

The markings on his cutter were faded or missing entirely but bright and colorful on the other cutters. None of them had markings from Delta Orionis.

“What the heck am I looking at, Professor?” he asked. “I thought all of the cutters of this class were aboard Hunter.”

“I thought so too. Obviously, we were mistaken, but that’s not the strangest thing about what I’m seeing.”

Jack turned his head and saw that the professor was looking out the window straight ahead of them. When he focused his attention in that direction, he immediately saw what he was talking about. While it certainly wasn’t universal, maybe half of the crowd wandering around the tents wore uniforms similar to his.

Not identical by any means because it certainly seemed that there were embellishments to the old-style uniform here and there, and some outright deviations.

No one seemed concerned with regulation hair length, and based on their weight, many of the men didn’t get even the basic calisthenics that all Navy personnel had to maintain.

“What is going on, Professor? Who are these people?”

“Why don’t we get out and ask? I suspect the answer is going to be something completely different than we’d have guessed on our own.”

The two of them finished securing the cutter and made their way to the hatch. By the time they’d reached the ground, a small crowd of people was walking around the cutter, pointing, and discussing it among themselves.

A rotund, slightly balding man wearing an old-style uniform with captain’s insignia approached them with a wry smile on his face, and his hand extended. “Richard Klein. Picked up a clunker, I see. At least it’s in flying condition, so I suppose you’re ahead of some.”

“Jack Romanoff,” he said. He shook the man’s hand and smiled. “It’s new to me, and I can see that I’ve got a lot of work to do. Are these your cutters?”

“Only one of them. Third to the left. I’ve been spending every weekend on her for over twenty years.

“Where did you find yours? I’ve been looking for another to use for spare parts for years and haven’t had any luck. I don’t suppose you’re in the market to sell?”

“Not at the moment, no.”

Jack was getting the idea that these were hobbyists of some kind. His father obviously thought there was something worthwhile for him to see here, and he was beginning to get an idea of what that might be. If what he suspected was true, these people might be able to help. At least a few of them.

Klein started to say something else, but his eyes widened slightly, and he grinned as he looked behind Jack. A glance in that direction showed that Danek and the petty officers had just come down the ladder and were gaping at the scene.

“Your friends look like tourists. It’s like they’ve never seen a Locust War swap meet before.”

Time to be honest. Fooling the man would only make the task harder in the long run, so it was time to fess up.

“I can’t speak for them, but it is my first time. I have to say it’s not something that I ever imagined existed.”

Klein returned his attention to Jack and frowned. “How can this possibly be your first swap meet if you’ve got uniforms and a cutter? I don’t understand.”

“Sorry. I should have introduced myself. Commodore Jack Romanoff, commanding officer of Delta Orionis.”

Klein seemed to be waiting for a punchline, but when one wasn’t forthcoming, he scratched his chin. “I suppose that’s as good a persona to assume as any, but you could’ve picked any of the battleships, so why pick the one in orbit?”

Jack smiled. “Because I really am the Navy officer in command of the ship in orbit. This isn’t a persona. I’m really me, and this cutter is from Delta Orionis.”

“Get out!” the man said, giving Jack a playful shove. “That’s a museum. It doesn’t have a Navy crew.”

“Doctor Alan Prescott, director of said museum,” the professor said, extending his card. “It’s not common knowledge there is a Navy crew aboard, but since the ship is technically only mothballed, she’s required to have active-duty personnel assigned to her. The Commodore just assumed command a few days ago.”

The man blinked at Jack and the professor after reading the card. “You guys really are active-duty Navy?”

“Everybody except the professor, yes,” Jack said. “This cutter here is one of the ones that was aboard the ship, and while it’s not in the greatest condition, it still flies. Which is a good thing considering some of the noise that one of the engines makes every once in a while.”

“You guys are serious?” Klein asked again. “If you guys really are active-duty Navy, why are you wearing the old war uniforms?”

“Regulations,” Jack said with a sigh. “The ship is a museum, so the uniform of the day is from the war. Look, we’re trying to put Delta Orionis in better condition, but we’ve run into some roadblocks. If you know some folks that you could introduce us to that might have some skills to give us a hand, I’d certainly appreciate it.”

The man stared at the old cutter. “Sure. There are a bunch of us old hands who have been doing these swap meets for years. I’d wager that between us, we can probably answer a lot of your questions. If you have time before you leave, I’d like to take a look around your cutter, too.”

Jack gestured for Danek to come over. “Lieutenant Danek, if you’d assign one of the petty officers to keep an eye on our ride and let Mister Klein take a look around under supervision, we can look around a bit.

“Will that work for you, Mister Klein? What say we return here in about an hour and meet your friends?”

The big man nodded. “It’ll be almost ten by then, and the last of them will finally have gotten here. Some of them wouldn’t know how to be on time if their lives depended on it.

“Take a look around and come back in an hour. I’ll round everyone up, we can hear your story and see if there’s anything we can do to help. Oh, I suppose I should ask what it is you’re trying to do.”

“Delta Orionis was supposed to be a fully mothballed ship when I assumed command, but I discovered that was not the case. It’s far easier to say what does work aboard her than what doesn’t. I’m trying to find some people that might have an interest in digging into some of those old systems and making them functional again.”

The rotund Klein whistled soundlessly. “You don’t think small, do you? Do you know how big those ships are? Well, I suppose you do.

“I can’t guarantee that many of the people I know would be willing to help with something on that scale, but I’d wager you’ll find at least a couple that’ll have some very esoteric knowledge about Hunter-class ships that they won’t mind sharing.

“Like I said, take a look around and get a feel for what this place is like. Soon, all of the old farts should be gathered around telling tall tales.”

Klein grinned. “And for once, it looks like I’m going to have the best story.”

Jack started to turn away but stopped himself. “If you’re an expert on cutters like this one, would you have any idea why one of the engines sometimes makes this horrible noise when activated that requires it to be turned off and then turned back on again?”

“Sounds like a bad regulator. If that’s the case, it’s not too dangerous because if it’s going to fail, it’ll do it when you turn the engines on. I’ll grab a toolbox and take a look.

“I don’t have any spares, but you’re walking around a swap meet. Keep an eye on the tables, and you might spot one. Folks at places like this are going to be looking for things to trade, so if you’ve got any other old parts, you might be able to trade and get your engine back in decent shape. Well, that part anyway.”

“Sounds like good advice. Thank you again, Mister Klein.”

“Just call me Richard. Have fun, Commodore.”

Jack turned his attention to the professor, Danek, and the remaining petty officer. “Let’s wander through the stalls and see what kind of things we can see. If you spot something interesting, speak up so we can all take a look at it. And remember where we parked, everyone.”

With that, they wandered into the stalls and started mixing with the crowd of civilians at the Locust War swap meet. As they were mostly dressed the same, the mob swallowed them without a trace in seconds.

The universe had a puckish sense of humor.

14

It only took a few minutes for Jack to realize that the people in the stalls were selling everything from homemade uniforms to recreations of desserts served in the Navy during the war. And, of course, everything in between.

The sheer variety of their wares astounded him. This wasn’t some last-minute get-together of people with interest in this sort of thing. There were people selling things here that obviously made a living doing it. It was a subculture that he’d never even suspected existed.

For once, being dressed in the old-style uniform was the perfect camouflage. The professor drew occasional interest, but the rest of them just blended seamlessly into the crowd. The only thing their uniforms got them was an occasional compliment on their authenticity.

The biggest problem with wandering around the swap meet to see what they could find was that the place was enormous. It was obviously something that wasn’t here all the time, and that begged the question of whether it moved around. With many of these people making a living off of what they did here, they’d have to go to a number of these in order to do it.

That particular question was answered when he found a flyer talking about different locations for upcoming swap meets scattered all around the planet. There wasn’t one every weekend, but they took place twice a month on average.

That was likely so they could draw in different regional segments of the population. He imagined that many of the vendors were seminomadic. They’d pack up their stalls, go home to manufacture more of whatever they were selling, and be ready for the next swap meet in a few weeks.

“How many people do you think are here?” he asked the professor.

“Thousands, easily,” he said as he examined a table of medals that the Navy had awarded during the war. “Perhaps tens of thousands.”

The young woman who was running the stall grinned at them. “This is one of the bigger locations. It pulls in anywhere from thirty to fifty thousand people a day. It’s still early, so ten thousand is probably a safe bet for the current crowd. They’ll really roll in after lunch.

“You folks have some nice uniforms. My congratulations to whoever made them for you. Do you have dress uniforms, too? If so, have you considered adding some awards to give yourselves a little bit more flash?”

“I haven’t picked up one of those yet,” Jack admitted. “Honestly, I’m not even really sure what they look like.”

The woman laughed. “Then you’re in for a real treat. They really believed in pomp and circumstance back in the day. Depending on what kind of service record you want to emulate, you might have dozens of ribbons and medals to go on a dress uniform.

“Oh, and let’s not forget the sword. You’ll want to find someone that makes good replicas because a cheap sword is an offense against the powers that be.”

Jack restrained himself from shuddering. Considering what the Navy used to think was a proper duty uniform, they’d probably gone insane with the dress uniform.

“Do you know of anybody that sells them? I might stop by and check them out if we have time, and I might come back and look at your medals as well.”

“Sure. If you keep walking up this row, you’ll come to a place where you can turn left or right. Take the left-hand turn, and you’ll see Miriam’s shop on the right side, just starting at the next aisle.

“She has uniforms of all kinds. She also sells some of the various accoutrements you’d need, but if you’re looking for actual authentic awards and decorations, come back and see me. I can get you set up right.”

“You do realize that we don’t really have time for that, don’t you?” Prescott asked as they started walking again. “With this many stalls, we’re barely going to scratch the surface before we have to go back and meet Mister Klein and his friends.”

Jack nodded. “I was just being polite. Actually, I’m slightly terrified by what the dress uniforms might look like. The mind boggles when one imagines what kind of uniform needs all those medals.”

The scientist laughed. “Nobody aboard Hunter wears dress uniforms, but there are plenty in storage. As with the regular uniforms, the Navy’s preservation methods were excellent.

“Still, uniforms aren’t really what we’re here to see. I’m much more interested in the equipment. There are a number of systems aboard the ship that need specialized parts, so it’s always possible that we could locate something Lieutenant Danek needs.”

She nodded in agreement. “If you don’t mind, sir, I think that I’ll wander off with Petty Officer Keefe and see what we can find. That way, you can concentrate on your meeting with the various people that you want to see, and I can start making a list of things that might be worth picking up if Joby has enough spare change lying around to pay for them.”

“What kind of spare change might Petty Officer Hutton have in his pocket?” Jack asked curiously.

“That really depends on the day and what supplies he’s picked up. He’s very resourceful.”

“I’d imagine he is. Have fun.”

When he and the professor were alone, Prescott asked some of the vendors where they might find any equipment or debris related to the war. They were directed to an area of the swap meet almost directly across the encampment from where they landed.

There were some fairly large tents there, as he recalled from when they’d made their approach. Surely those couldn’t be filled with salvaged equipment.

They didn’t have a lot of time to explore, but the professor was adamant that he wanted to at least see what was there. Jack was willing, so off they went.

His assumption that there couldn’t be much equipment or debris related to the Locust War at the swap meet was completely and utterly wrong. There were parts and pieces of equipment in plenty. All of the tents had their sides rolled up so he could see literal piles of stuff.

“Where did they get all of this?” Jack asked the professor in a low voice, impressed in spite of himself. “If these people are trading and selling this stuff twice a month and have been for years, that suggests there’s a lot of equipment just floating around out here.”

“Remember, not everything came from the battleships,” Prescott said as he stepped over to one of the tables and examined what looked like an old sensor array. “There were a lot of ships involved in the war effort, and the vast majority of them were either destroyed in combat or decommissioned after the war. Even after two centuries, there’s obviously still a tremendous amount of salvaged equipment floating around.”

Jack was about to agree when he spotted a familiar piece of equipment on the far side of the tent. He nudged the professor and pointed.

“Isn’t that one of those crystalline computer matrixes from a Locust drone?”

The professor frowned and then headed over toward the table. Jack followed him to the table where the professor examined the alien part.

Even as the professor was looking it over, Jack peered into the tent next door and saw something even more shocking. The Locust mothership in the professor’s lab had been broken down into pieces, and significant portions of it had been damaged in combat.

The one that took up most of the next tent seemed to be in much better condition. It looked whole and completely filled the massive tent.

While he doubted very seriously that it had been left in this condition after the war, it looked as if someone had taken the time to put it back together again. Or perhaps they’d salvaged parts from several different motherships to combine to make one that looked whole.

How could they have gained access to something like this? It was crazy. Of course, people here had rebuilt cutters and flew them around. What other surprises lurked just out of sight?

He checked his chronometer and realized that he was out of time. If he meant to make his way back to Klein and his friends, he was going to have to leave right now.

“I’ve got to go,” he told the professor. “Before you get all wrapped up with this, I think you should probably head over to the next tent and ask a few pointed questions about that.”

The scientist blinked at him owlishly and then turned to look in the direction Jack was facing. “Great gods above!”

Without even responding to Jack, Prescott hurried to the next tent and began walking around the mothership. He wasn’t the only one doing so, and Jack could see the person who’d likely done the work standing proudly by, watching their amazement with a wide grin.

Jack hoped there was a good story to go along with the mothership, but he’d have to wait to hear it until they got back to Hunter. If he dawdled any longer, he was going to be late.

It took him almost half an hour to get back to where they’d parked the cutter, and he saw Klein coming down the steps with a grimy piece of equipment in hand. The petty officer followed him and took up station at the base of the ladder.

The large man waved as Jack approached. “It took a little bit of work, but I got the regulator out in one piece. We can go back to my table. I’ll take it apart and see if maybe all it needs is a good cleaning.

“By now, a bunch of my friends should be there, and we can all sit down and talk. This is going to be good.”

Jack followed him up the line of cutters, and they stopped behind the one that Klein had indicated earlier was his. There was a small pavilion set up with a couple of tables and chairs in the shade.

Klein set the regulator on the table and dug out a small toolbox and some cleaning solvents. Once he had everything laid out, he said a few words to the skinny man in the pavilion next door.

“Reggie is going to gather everyone. Grab a chair and sit while we wait. I’ve got some beer in the cooler over there, but it might be a little early for you. Should have some bottled water, too.”

Jack retrieved a bottle of water and pulled up a chair to watch Klein disassemble the regulator. His movements were confident, and Jack was satisfied that he’d done this kind of work before. Maybe not with this particular part, but with others. You could tell when someone had a high level of experience.

The mechanic quickly broke the regulator down into several different sections and poured solvent into a small jar, which he then dropped a couple of parts into. “We’ll let those soak. If that’s the problem, it should be fine once I put it all back together and reinstall it.”

While the man worked, four men and two women came in from the surrounding pavilions and began grabbing bottles of beer without asking permission. There was an air about all of them that said they were more than comfortable disassembling things. They reminded him quite a bit of Danek and her people.

When everyone had found a seat, Klein introduced Jack. His friend seemed to be waiting for the same punchline the rotund man had expected earlier. All Jack could do was smile.

“Mister Klein is being a little bit of a trickster,” Jack said. “I really am an active-duty commodore in the Navy, and I’m assigned to command the battleship division. I’m also the commanding officer of Delta Orionis.

“As much as this uniform might look like a replica, that’s because Hunter is a historical vessel, so the regulations for the active-duty crew require us to use historical uniforms.”

“I took the time to verify everything,” Klein said. “I called a guy I know in personnel, and he said that Commodore Romanoff assumed command of Delta Orionis a few days ago. He’s the real deal, people.”

One of the women—Natalie Diaz?—frowned. “That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they suddenly put a flag officer in command of a museum?”

“Because someone needs to get that ship into fighting order,” a voice said from just outside the pavilion.

Jack turned his head slightly and saw his father and mother standing outside. They’d made better time than he’d expected.

His mother was almost diametrically different from his father. Where he was tall, athletic, and aristocratic, she was short, plump, and inveterately cheerful. Where he was dark haired like Jack, she had curly golden locks.

He’d always wished he’d looked more like her.

His mother was staring at him with a somewhat goofy smile on her face, and he rose to his feet as she walked over and wrapped her arms around him.

“I’m so glad you’re finally back,” she said as she aggressively hugged him. “I understand it may not be permanent, but it’s good to have you home. You look so dashing in that uniform.”

“I wish I had time to take a few weeks off and just relax, but I don’t see that happening for a while,” Jack said and kissed her forehead. “Everyone, this is my mother, Jesse Romanoff, and my father, retired Grand Admiral Eric Romanoff.

“It might be nepotism, but he pulled some strings to see that I got this command because he wanted to make sure that Delta Orionis is put back into an operational state.”

One of the men—Jack couldn’t remember his name—was staring, wide-eyed, at his father. “It really is him! I recognize him from his picture! Who would’ve thought a former grand admiral of the Confederation Navy would come to visit with folks like us? What’s really going on, Admiral?”

“I think my son was about to explain that in detail, so I’ll let him get on with it,” his father said. “I don’t suppose that I could have a beer.”

They quickly invited Jack’s mother and father to sit. In short order, Eric Romanoff had a beer in his hand and was chatting with the man who had recognized him. Jack’s mother accepted a bottle of water and joined the two women.

Since Jack had repeated the story of what he was trying to accomplish innumerable times over the last few days, it only took a couple of minutes to give them the short version. Once he had, he explained that Prescott was concerned that the Locusts might be coming back and that it was his duty to get the ship back in fighting condition, but they just didn’t have the experience and people to make it happen. Or the parts.

That he was there with hat in hand to see if anyone would be willing to help them out.

“We’re not quite in that bad a condition,” his father said before anyone could respond. “I’ve had my ear to the ground, and I believe there are a large number of parts at Navy headquarters that should be accessible to you with the right kind of pressure.

“I’ve also found some warm bodies. Inexperienced, but able to take over anything that just requires labor. You’ll like the price for their sweat, too: free.”

That would be amazing, if it panned out.

“I’m still working on arranging for the gentleman I found to unravel the finances to speak with the appropriate people aboard headquarters,” his father continued. “I don’t expect any real action on that front anytime soon, but one never knows.

“I’m hopeful that all of this is for nothing, but we can’t count on that. We have to assume the Locusts are coming back, and that they’ll come in force. If that’s the case, the very least we need to accomplish is to get Delta Orionis in fighting order.”

Klein leaned back in his chair and shook his head. “We’re half a dozen people. I assume you know how big that ship is. We’re not even a tiny fraction of what you need to get a handle on the maintenance requirements of a ship that size.”

“Maybe so,” Jack said with a nod. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t help us get started. You’ve been working on restoring ships from the Locust War for years. What kind of bragging rights would bringing a battleship back into fighting trim earn you at these swap meets?”

The six of them glanced at one another.

“All of us have jobs,” Klein said somberly. “While I might be willing to take a little bit of vacation time to help dig into what’s going on, it’s not like I can just put my life aside and work on your ship full time for years. None of us can.”

“What if the Navy was willing to hire you as consultants for this project?” Jack’s father said. “And I’d be more than willing to speak with your employers to see about a leave of absence while you assist the Navy in this critical task.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. He certainly didn’t have any money for that in his budget. In fact, he didn’t actually have a budget since someone was embezzling it.

Still, if his father was promising to do something like that, then he had an angle. The man had a lot of flaws, but he’d never made a commitment that he’d failed to keep.

The mechanics excused themselves and went to the next pavilion over and started a very intense conversation. Jack spent the time they were gone talking over trivialities with his parents and catching up on what was going on in their lives.

Before the others could make up their minds, the professor came into the pavilion, more than a little out of breath. “Thank goodness I’ve found you. Someone has made a breakthrough on the computer systems of that mothership. We need to find a way to convince him to help us because I think that the information he’s gained access to is of critical importance.”

Jack’s father rose to his feet and extended his hand to the professor. “It’s good to see you again, Doctor. Why don’t we go discuss the situation with your new friend and see if something can be worked out?”

Even as the two of them walked off, the mechanics returned, and Klein grinned at Jack. “I think we have a deal, Commodore. When do we leave?”

While this didn’t come close to solving any of his problems, it was a step in the right direction. He’d take it.

15

As much as Jack would’ve liked to return to Hunter immediately, his people were scattered across the swap meet and he didn’t have comm codes for them. Hell, he didn’t even have a communication device on him—which was probably a bad idea—but he hadn’t expected to leave Hunter quite so suddenly.

The professor was the only one he knew the location of, other than the man guarding their cutter. After he’d assured the mechanics that they’d be leaving in a couple of hours, he set off in search of Prescott and his father.

Hopefully, that would give Klein time to get the regulator back into the cutter. He had his fingers crossed that the repair was successful because it would be just about his luck to have an engine fail to start. Then they’d have to send somebody down with a scavenged regulator to get the damned thing working again.

At least if that happened, they could catch a ride from one of the others.

The crowd had definitely increased in size, and he now estimated that there were at least twice as many people as he’d seen earlier. The woman selling the medals said she expected thirty to fifty thousand people today, and now he believed it.

With the mass of people moving through the stalls, it took him almost forty-five minutes to get to the tent with the reconstructed Locust mothership. As he entered, he spotted the professor talking with the man who’d been grinning earlier, confirming Jack’s guess that he was the one who had done the work. Jack’s father stood next to them, listening attentively as they spoke.

The conversation broke off as he approached. Jack nodded to the man and waited for someone to introduce him.

They must’ve already told the man that he was coming because he immediately stuck out his hand. “Commodore Romanoff, it’s a pleasure. Bart Lipton.”

“Jack, Bart has been doing some amazing work with the computer from this mothership,” the professor said, almost gushing. “He’s managed not only to read some of the data from the storage devices, but he also successfully interpreted it. I cannot stress enough how impressive a feat that is.”

“That does sound like quite the accomplishment,” Jack said, shaking his hand firmly. “Then again, it looks like you’ve put the mothership back together, which boggles my mind.”

The man waved dismissively. “Those are just hull plates. The inside is empty, just a frame to hold everything together. If it still had all of the internal equipment, it would weigh a lot more, and I’d never have been able to do anything with it.

“Honestly, I’m shocked that no one has duplicated the work I did with the computer. I’m no scientist, after all. This was more of an extension of the work I did as a computer engineer. All it consisted of was trying out different things just to get a response from the equipment.”

He rubbed his chin and smiled. “It took me a while to figure out what the power requirements were, and then the thing didn’t want to respond to any input. I just kept tinkering with it until I was able to start reading some of the data.

“Once I managed that, I was able to format the input in different ways and started getting limited responses from the machine. Doctor Prescott makes it sound like a big deal, but it was just horsing around. I can’t claim to be an expert.”

“Perhaps it was playing around, but you have a particular skill set that enabled you to make a breakthrough, something I’ve been trying to achieve for years,” the professor said, shaking his head. “Jack, we’ve got to persuade Bart to come up and take a look at the equipment that I have in my lab and share what he’s done.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” Jack said with a smile. “You need to convince Bart. But it sounds like you’d be reinventing the wheel if you dragged him up to the ship. You should be going to his workshop and seeing what he’s done for yourself.”

The professor grunted. “Of course. I wasn’t thinking clearly. Bart, would it be possible for me to visit your workshop once the swap meet is over and see what you’ve accomplished?

“I’ve been trying to get information out of one of these computers for close to a decade with no success at all, and I’m very concerned that the Locusts might return at some point. These devices could have information that we desperately need to figure out both where they came from and how long it might take them to come back if that’s what they decide to do.”

The man shrugged. “I’m a retired computer engineer, so I’ve got plenty of spare time on my hands. My son and his wife are running my stall this weekend, so if you want to grab some lunch, we can head to my place. I’d be happy to show you everything I’ve got. If it’s interesting enough, I don’t even have to come back here tomorrow. They can pack everything up and bring it home.”

“That would be tremendous,” Prescott said with relief. “Thank you so much.”

“Grand Admiral, Commodore, it’s been a pleasure meeting you both. I pray that the Locusts never return, but if they do, I hope that my horsing around with this equipment proves useful to you.”

“I’ve got one question before you go,” Jack said. “I thought all of the Locust debris had been collected by the Confederation. How did you get what certainly looks like a complete mothership?”

He laughed. “I assure you it wasn’t in one piece when I acquired it. In fact, that’s a conglomeration of about five destroyed motherships. I honestly can’t tell you where they came from, but they were recovered long after the war was over.”

Jack frowned but didn’t interrupt the man.

“There are actually quite a lot of destroyed drones and other pieces of equipment still being found to this day. You can see some of the fruits of that around us. Sweeping space for crippled vessels after a fight when they’d been moving at high speed isn’t exactly an easy task, or so I’m given to understand.

“Say a vessel lost power speeding through space. It doesn’t stop, it continues in its trajectory at the speed it was moving. Maybe it’s captured by the local star, maybe it isn’t. After a couple hundred years, it might have circled the star any number of times and come back to more heavily traveled space where it was detected. Or there could be a bunch of ships that were going fast enough to get lost in the outer systems.”

Jack had personal knowledge of that. Back when he was a lieutenant, his ship had a run-in with a mixed group of pirates and smugglers stripping lasers off the damned things. Since the Confederation wasn’t about to let criminals have weapons that powerful, his captain moved in as soon as he became aware of the activity.

They managed to recover the weapons after an intense fight. They also captured many of the criminals, though some got away. All in all, it made for a very exciting deployment.

“That sounds logical enough,” was all Jack said. “Thanks again for your help.”

“I’m not sure that I believe his story,” Jack’s father said as Bart and the professor walked away. “Everything I’ve read said that the Navy scoured every system where they encountered the Locusts quite thoroughly. It seems difficult to believe that they could miss so much when they were desperate for information on the Locusts.”

“We’ll probably never know,” Jack said. “Our new friend may believe these vessels were salvaged, but somebody could have sold them from the stockpile of debris that the Confederation collected.”

“Does it make a difference where he got them?”

“Honestly, I couldn’t care less how he got the equipment if he really has made these breakthroughs. If we can start pulling information off a mothership’s computer and start working to interpret it, it might tell us how worried we need to be.

“The real question is going to be whether he’s really made a breakthrough or if this is some kind of scam. It seems like it would be fairly easy to fake up something that would fool the professor in the short run. I’d really hate for this to be something like that.”

“If he’s a charlatan, then we’ll deal with him,” his father said matter-of-factly. “As it is, all he’s doing is showing the professor what he’s done. If he starts asking for money, then we’ll look more closely.” They left the tent. “How did it go with the mechanics?”

Jack started out of the tent, moving slowly enough for his father to catch up before answering the question. “They’re going to help, but I have to admit that half a dozen people really aren’t going to make much difference, particularly considering the scale of the ship and the fact that we don’t have many spare parts.

“The crew has been mining metals out of an unused section of the ship and selling them to fund the purchase of parts and supplies on the black market. Having seen this place, I wonder if Hutton has been coming down to the swap meets and picking up parts directly. There certainly seems to be plenty of equipment lying around that might be useful.”

His father gestured at a row of pavilions where they were cooking and selling various kinds of food. “It’s been a long day already. Why don’t we grab something we can eat while we walk? I want to get a better look at this place, but I’m starving. Where’s your mother, by the way?”

“She decided to stay with the mechanics. You know how she loves meeting new people.”

They picked up roasted meat and vegetable kebabs. Jack got some tea while his father got another beer. Ah, the joys of retirement.

After he’d filed the edges off his hunger, Jack decided to dig into his father’s motives. “Aboard Hunter, you said politics played into your goals. Care to expand on that?”

“I’m not sure what I can add. I can use these events and the information Doctor Prescott comes up with to leverage myself onto the Confederation Council. It’s not that I don’t care about the Locusts, because I do, but I have to think of the political game first.”

Jack shook his head. “I should’ve figured. Even when you were serving, it was all about politics in one way or another. How early in your career did you decide you wanted to be the Grand Admiral anyway?”

“I’d take offense at that, but there’s more than a hint of truth in what you’re saying. I was the senior tactical officer on Charlemagne when I came up with the idea that it might be possible to become the Grand Admiral. I didn’t take it as more than a daydream for years, but by the time I made captain, I had an understanding of the political gamesmanship it takes to get to the top.

“You say politics like it’s a bad word, but no matter what you do in this universe, politics plays a role. It might be office politics—someone wants the resources you have or wants a project you’re in charge of to fail. It sounds petty—and it is—but it’s a fact of life. Nothing we do is apolitical.”

“Said like a true politician. Still, you decided to take this seriously after you retired from service. Why not before, when you could actually do something about it?”

“I didn’t fully grasp the situation in time,” his father said with a shrug. “I didn’t even realize the battleship division existed until the year I retired. I thought they’d all been decommissioned long ago.

“Like I said in orbit, once I understood that it existed, I tried to get a handle on the situation, but my mandatory retirement date rolled around before I could get any kind of firm intelligence on the situation. Now it’s my successor’s problem. And yours, of course.”

“I’ll do what I can, but it’s not going to be much in the short term,” Jack said with a sigh. “You said that you’d found some extra bodies to help us. What’s the story with that?”

His father grinned and threw the wooden stick that had held his kebab away. “I had a chat with the head of the Naval Academy on Faust. Rear Admiral Anjelica Valenciano is an old friend, and I pitched the idea of an extended field exercise to her.

“While it’s not going to be a long-term solution, it will at least get you a few weeks—possibly even a month of having more people than you know what to do with at your beck and call.”

“That would help. Any idea who I’d be getting?”

“The basic training classes, the advanced individual training schools, and the officer candidates. That’s a head count of around three thousand people, including the instructors.

“Almost none of the students have any real training, but they should be able to clean up the ship and get the rest of it back under life support during their time aboard. That has to count for something.”

Jack threw away his own used kebab and took a drink of his tea while considering that. Three thousand pairs of hands could get a lot of work done, but there were logistics involved that made their use less than straightforward.

For example, he didn’t even have food for the people already under his watch. How was he going to take care of three thousand people? No space to put them that had air and heat. No bedding.

He broached the question to his father, and the man smiled. “As I said, they’re going to treat it like a field exercise and bring their own food and supplies. I wouldn’t just dump that many people in your lap with no means to care for them.

“Their first duty has to be getting the life-support systems functioning in all parts of the ship. I’m not sure they can fully accomplish that, but they’ll make excellent progress.”

Any progress beat what he’d been afraid they’d be able to manage.

“They also won’t descend on you like, well, locusts,” his father continued. “This needs to be a staged operation. Small groups getting sections under pressure so the next group can join them. Geometric progression. They’ll all get valuable experience making this happen. At least that’s how I pitched the mission to Anjelica.

“She’s less than confident about that, but with her budget being slashed as much as everyone else’s, having a place for her people to get real-world experience is something that she’s willing to try.”

“What about parts? You said something earlier about the supply depot having parts for Delta Orionis. Exactly how do you anticipate me shaking those loose so that we can actually repair the non-functioning parts of the life-support system?”

“That’s where you’re going to have to use your own initiative,” his father said with a grim smile. “I fully expect them to drag their feet because they’ll want to conceal what they’ve been doing with those parts.

“I’m not blind, and I’m sure that a fair number of the pieces of equipment around us should actually have gone to your ship. Someone in supply has been lining their pockets by selling parts and supplies. Shocking, I know.”

“That’s going to mean another confrontation with Vice Admiral LaChasse,” Jack said with a sigh. “I’m not her favorite person right now. If I go back into her domain and make a stink, there will be repercussions. If she puts her foot down—even if I have a right to those parts, I’m not getting anything.”

“If it was easy, son, anyone could do it. You’re going to have to find a way to compel the supply department to cooperate without causing enough trouble that LaChasse has a heart attack.

“Though, if that actually did happen, it might make your job easier in the short run.”

Jack chuckled. A medical crisis on her part might honestly help, though he wasn’t going to wish for one.

He was about to say something to that effect when he spotted Danek and the petty officer with her in the crowd ahead of them. She was scowling deeply as she made her way to them.

“Sir, we may have a bigger problem than I expected,” she said almost angrily. “I found a second stage initiator for a fully independent quantum drive. Since all the other ships in the Confederation use standard quantum drives to make the jump—and the fact that it’s gargantuan—it had to have been made for Delta Orionis or one of her sisters. Based on the condition of the unit, it wasn’t a new part either.”

The last sentence made him frown. “If it wasn’t new, then where did it come from?”

“That’s a great question, sir, and none of the answers I’ve come up with reassure me in the slightest. We didn’t lose any battleships during the war, so it almost certainly came from one of the mothballed battleships, and that means that we can’t count on them being intact.”

“This is exactly the kind of thing that I was afraid of,” his father said. “With no one actually stationed aboard the other battleships, it’s possible that they’re in far worse condition than Delta Orionis. People might have been looting them for decades.”

Jack sighed. “All we can do is focus our attention on Hunter, as that has to be our first priority. This new problem is going to have to wait.

“Let’s head back to the cutters and get back to Hunter, Lieutenant. It looks like I need to make a trip to the supply depot, and I’m going to want Petty Officer Hutton with me. They’re going to try and pull something over on me, and he’ll be the only one who can spot exactly what they’re doing.”

Jack had low expectations for the run, but it was time to get his ship in order no matter who was trying to stop him. He was a leader, and it was time to lead.

16

It took Klein about an hour to get the regulator installed and start the engines to verify the repaired part worked as designed. That was a huge relief for Jack because he’d been afraid that the bad engine wouldn’t start at all.

That left him with the problem of figuring out how to get up to Hunter. He’d allowed Prescott to wander off, and he was the only one that could fly the cutter.

Luckily for him, Klein was able to dig up another pilot that could see to the man’s personal cutter. That meant that the large man could fly their cutter—and them—back to Hunter.

But before he did, he insisted on doing a thorough preflight check to make sure that the cutter was safe. Jack wasn’t going to argue, even though the cutter had managed to get them down to the ground safely.

By the time Klein finished going over everything, he had quite a list of things that should be looked at but nothing that outright prevented them from taking off. He handed the list to Danek, who rolled her eyes as soon as his back was turned but put the list in her pocket anyway.

Strapped into the copilot seat, Jack observed his new pilot bring the cutter smoothly to life, talking to Control through the headset. Once he got clearance to leave, he switched to a different frequency and spoke to the other mechanics aboard their cutters. They took off one after the other and headed into orbit.

“What kind of protocol do we use for approach?” Klein asked.

“The professor is the only certified pilot that we have—as far as I know—and he just flies up and uses the controls on the right to open the hatch to the small craft bay. We don’t have a control group to manage the traffic.”

The mechanic raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure that a ship that size has more than one small craft bay. Exactly how are we going to know which one to enter?”

Jack really didn’t have any idea. “The bay is amidships. Surely the controls won’t work on any of the other bays with their current settings. The bay has an atmosphere, so if we pick one without air, that’ll be our first clue to backtrack. The other cutters should probably wait for us to verify we’re in the right place before they follow us in.”

Klein didn’t look satisfied with that procedure, but it was the best Jack could come up with.

The flight up to Hunter went smoothly enough, and Klein circled the big ship. “Damn. It’s one thing to know how large something is and another to actually see it. The scope of this project is mind-blowing.”

“It is a bit intimidating,” Jack said. “Though it could always be worse. At least we have power and propulsion.”

“The engines on this thing work?” he asked, his eyebrow shooting up. “That surprises me. After all this time, it’s hard to imagine anything on that ship working the way it was meant to. Just look how chewed up she is. She was really in the thick of the fighting, wasn’t she?”

“I think the evidence speaks for itself,” Jack agreed. “We’re looking for that bay right there, I believe.”

Klein nodded at where Jack was pointing and brought the cutter close to the massive hatches before pressing the control that should admit them. To Jack’s relief, the hatches began sliding open, and there was an atmosphere inside when they pushed through.

As soon as they notified the others that this was the right bay, Klein took the cutter all the way in. He whistled at the sight of all of the small craft laid out below them.

“Holy cow. Just look at all of those cutters and pinnaces. It makes the few that we’ve managed to rebuild look like the playthings they are. Of course, ours are in much better shape than these.”

The last was said more than a bit smugly.

“I don’t doubt that for one moment, but getting more small craft operational hasn’t exactly been a high priority item for us. We’ve only got sixty-seven people—including the professor and me—to do the work. Not that I’ve done any work. I’m still trying to get a grip on what needs doing.

“Lieutenant Danek will take you to engineering and show you what’s going on once we’ve shut everything down. You’ll be impressed. Trust me on that.”

Klein landed the cutter in one of the open parking spaces, and they waited for the others to settle around them. It seemed that the other mechanics were just as impressed at the array of vessels sitting around them as Klein had been because they were all for exploring them until Jack told them they were going to engineering with Danek.

Even as the chief engineer led them away, Hutton entered the bay. Unlike the last time he’d seen Hutton, he was dressed in an old-style duty uniform rather than coveralls. Somehow, he still managed to make the uniform look sloppy, but Jack was willing to give him points for effort.

“I’m glad to see that you managed to escape the shore patrol, PO,” Jack said when the man approached. “I was afraid I wasn’t going to be enough of a distraction or that they’d have people in the corridor to catch you.”

He grinned. “I went out through the galley. There’s an exit back there that almost nobody knows about because it leads to a series of supply compartments before connecting with a different corridor.

“They’re mostly empty, so there’s no real reason for anybody to go back there. I stayed out of sight, and some of my friends let me know when they’d left the ship with you.”

He lowered his voice slightly. “Thanks for the timely distraction, sir. If they’d gotten their hands on me, I’m not sure that I’d have ever seen the light of day again. I appreciate you standing up for me. A lot of us do.”

“Sometimes it really is as simple as us against them, Joby. We’ve got a mission, and they’re doing their best to stop us. But they didn’t come looking for you because of what you’d done. Not really. They came because I pissed Vice Admiral LaChasse off.”

“Sometimes the enemy of my friend is my enemy too, if you know what I mean, sir. Did you have a good trip down to the swap meet?”

Jack smiled. “It was an eye-opening experience, though I expect you know a lot more about that sort of thing than I do. With all of those spare parts floating around, I’d imagine you’re not buying exclusively from the black market. You’re getting a lot from the swap meet, aren’t you?”

The man spread his hands and smiled wryly. “The two options aren’t as clear-cut as you might think, if you know what I mean, sir. Yes, we get a lot of things at those swap meets because they’ve got such a wide range of parts and equipment.

“The black market isn’t just going to hold onto some rare part simply because someone might need it in the future. They’re going to sell it. Who’s going to buy it? Somebody that probably goes to one of the swap meets.”

Jacked hadn’t considered that, but it made sense.

“I’ve bought things from people working on the black market before, but those are always specific deals,” Hutton continued. “The swap meets are more like window shopping. Sometimes we don’t really know what we need until we see what’s available.

“Other times, there’s a specific piece of equipment that’s broken that needs a very particular replacement part. And occasionally, we need a skilled machinist to manufacture a replacement part or rebuild something that’s broken. We can find all of that at the swap meets. I’d be an idiot not to take advantage of that, and Mama Hutton didn’t raise no idiots.”

Jack nodded and gestured for the petty officer to accompany him back into the main corridor. “I’m guessing that you can fly the cutters. Is that right?”

“I have a license. Can’t have the professor flying me to some of the places I go because they don’t want to deal with strangers.”

“The two people I haven’t laid eyes on yet supposedly work in supply, so I’d wager that they work for you. At first, I thought they’d deserted, but that doesn’t make any sense.

“Tell me, PO, is there a chance that I might’ve run across them down at the swap meet? Could they have been running one of those tables with all of the parts and equipment? Maybe they’re down there even now swapping things you don’t need for things that you might. Am I close?”

“Dead on, sir,” Hutton confirmed. “It’s too much trouble for them to come back up all the time, so they basically live down on the planet. They talk to various people and find some of the more obscure parts that I can’t find anywhere else.

“To be fair, I didn’t set up that operation. It’s been going on for quite some time because the engineering officers have needed parts for most of the time that Hunter has been in orbit. Whoever’s working supply has maintained contacts on Faust the entire time.

“If you want me to call them up so you can see them, I will. It’ll take me a couple of days, but I can get them here.”

Jack waved dismissively. “I don’t think that’s necessary. They’re doing important work, so let’s let them keep doing it.

“What I do need is for you to show me what you’ve got hidden away. I have no idea what we’re working with, and if I’m going to add to our stockpile, I need to know where we stand.”

“Sure thing, though it’s not much to look at. Let’s go toward engineering, and I’ll give you a tour of the secret stash.”

They went back past Prescott’s lab and turned down a side corridor that was indistinguishable from any of the others around it. It led to a series of compartments that held shelving filled with parts. Some of the parts didn’t look functional, but others were still in their boxes. It was a mishmash of new and used stuff.

As they went through each of the compartments, it became clear that they had almost nothing to work with. If they were getting fresh hands to work on the life-support system soon, Jack needed to pry everything he could out of the supply depot.

When the tour was complete, Hutton took him to what was obviously a relatively new corridor. It wasn’t as neatly cut as the others, and the work had been done without concern for smoothing everything out.

It led into what was obviously a mine. This must be where they were pulling precious metals out of the asteroid so that they could sell them to purchase equipment and supplies.

There was makeshift smelting equipment at hand that would allow them to create the stacks of ingots he saw in a side compartment. He didn’t know the value of the metals but based on how little he saw, he doubted they had much purchasing power on hand at the moment.

Basically, they were broke.

That was a problem that whoever his father had dug up would have to help the Judge Advocate General’s office figure out. He had to focus on working with what they had at hand or could scrounge up.

Seeing the lack of materials they had to work with, his plan needed to be fairly bold. The chances of success were low, but if he played his hand right, it was possible that they could at least shake loose some of what Hunter needed.

“Well, sir, this is my domain. I’ve got a couple of people in other departments that give me a hand when I’ve got something to load or unload, but it’s basically me. Some of the engineers come down when we need to mine or smelt something, but there’s only so much we can sell on the open market without raising eyebrows.

“So, what are we going to do, sir? If we’re going to bring the ship into a higher state of readiness, we’re going to need a lot more parts and crew to install them.”

Jack put his hands on his hips and turned slowly to look at the mine around him. “I’m sorry you’ve had to resort to this kind of thing to get the funds that you’ve needed to operate. I’m working on shaking loose some of the money that we should’ve been getting for the last century and a half, but I’m not going to hold my breath. You’ve had to make do before, and I’m afraid that we’re going to have to keep making do.

“That doesn’t mean that we can’t force supply to turn over our parts. It may not be easy, but somebody there has dirty hands, and they’ve been selling some of our stuff. I intend to go over and rattle some cages.”

Hutton laughed and shook his head. “That’d be like sending a baby into a wolf’s den, sir. They’ll eat you alive. They’ll come up with a dozen regulations that I could quote verbatim that they can use to keep from giving you squat.

“Those people are experts at keeping what they have in their possession. It’s almost a game with them. If they can hang onto a part for as long as possible, then they win. You can’t fight people like that without having some kind of secret weapon.”

Jack grinned. “But I do have a secret weapon, Petty Officer: you. You’re going to help me figure out what they’re doing and how I can counter it.

“We have some leverage because the Judge Advocate General’s office has the paperwork that you’ve provided about how they’ve denied us everything we were supposed to have. Maybe we can use the impending investigation to shake loose at least some of what they have for us.”

Hutton didn’t look convinced. “I don’t know about that, sir. You have no idea the kind of shenanigans these people are willing to pull. Especially since a real investigation would uncover more than enough evidence to send people to the brig.

“They’ll do everything they can to stonewall you and JAG. Paperwork will be lost, things will be moved around, crates that purportedly have things in them will be empty. The number of tricks that they can pull is almost endless. Unless we know ahead of time what they really have in their pockets, I don’t think that’s going to work.”

Jack pursed his lips and tapped one of his fingers against his leg. Hutton would know the system a lot better than he did, and if he said it would be almost impossible to manage, then Jack couldn’t just barge in and demand to see things.

“So, if you were trying to get the real information out of the supply depot and you had carte blanche, what would you do?” he eventually asked. “How would you get the data we need and verify that everything was still there?”

“They’ve got to have two sets of books, sir. The ones that say what they’re supposed to have and the ones that say what’s still there. We’d have to get into the supply depot without them knowing that we were there. If I could access the computer system from the inside, I might be able to find the hidden data.

“The problem is, sir, places like that are heavily protected because they don’t want anyone just walking off with the parts. Getting into the supply depot is meant to be hard, and they have security systems to make sure that nothing gets back out again without them being aware of it. Spoofing systems like that isn’t easy.”

“Unless you have insider knowledge,” Jack said with a grin. “I want you to tell me that you can’t do it, Joby. Tell me that you can’t get into the supply depot and find everything that they’re hiding. Tell me they’re better than you.”

Joby snorted a little. “You do know how to press people’s buttons, don’t you, sir? I have a lot of specialized knowledge about how the supply system works because I used to be a lieutenant in logistics. I know where the bodies are buried, I know who’s dirty, and I know who’s just turning a blind eye.

“Can I get inside the depot and figure this all out? Maybe. If they catch us, though, they’re going to call the shore patrol, and there’s nothing that we can do to stop them from throwing us into the brig because we’ll really have done something criminal at that point. Are you willing to risk that kind of outcome, sir?”

“Is there any other way to get what we need?”

“Not that I’ve been able to figure out.”

“Then you have your answer. Think about what you’ll need, and formulate a plan. If we need more people, we’ll see who we can recruit for the task.

“As soon as you have a viable plan, we’ll drop in and see if we can make some magic happen. Until then, I need to find out what I can on my own.”

17

Jack finished his conversation with Hutton and was on his way back to his quarters when he came across a parade of people moving furniture and large crates through the main corridor from the small craft bay. They were not members of his crew. They looked like civilians and judging from their musculature, they did this for a living.

Rather than asking what they were doing, Jack simply inserted himself into the line and verified his guess that they were going to his quarters. The door was open, and they were going inside.

Considering that only he and Hutton had the codes, this concerned him.

After he stepped through the door into the massive dining room, he moved to the side and observed what was taking place with more than a bit of confusion. All of the crates and pieces of furniture were being spread out, the boxes opened, and their contents assembled.

All of this was done under the direction of a thin man with short grey hair dressed in dark slacks and an equally dark shirt. His skin was a deep brown, and based on what Jack could see of his eyes, his ancestry probably led back to Asia on Earth, if one went back far enough.

When Jack decided to approach, the man held up a single finger and continued giving directions to a muscular woman in coveralls. When Jack opened his mouth to say something, he wagged his finger in negation.

Nonplussed, Jack took a few steps back and tried to get a handle on what was happening. What was all this stuff?

Some of it looked like ornate furniture that was being moved into his quarters, but there was far too much for one man. And, based on the sections of the table already under assembly at the far end of the compartment, the dining room was getting something as well.

Where had all of this stuff come from? Who paid for it? Everything looked antique, and that meant expensive.

The supervisor finished with the woman needing his direct input and walked briskly to Jack, then bowed slightly when he arrived. “Commodore Romanoff, my name is David Chen. Your father recruited me to be your personal steward and to oversee the installation of the furnishings he acquired, as well as assisting you in any other tasks that fall within my skill set.”

So, his father was behind whatever this was. He’d said that he was going to see about getting some replacement furniture, but Jack had assumed it would be for the few rooms that he was currently using. This was excessive.

He started to say something along those lines but realized that it was already too late. The furniture had been acquired and was now aboard his ship. It would cost even more to get rid of it, so whatever this was, he’d have to live with it.

“I wasn’t expecting anything on this scale,” Jack admitted. “Where did these antiques come from anyway?”

“Their origin might surprise you. Everything originally came from this very suite. About a hundred and sixty years ago, the admiral’s furnishings were sold to the Sons and Daughters of the Locust War and turned into a kind of historical display at their headquarters on Faust.

“When your father approached them about returning everything to its original purpose, he was able to conclude some type of arrangement for the return of the furniture in exchange for something else that I’m not privy to.”

That didn’t sound at all ominous.

“It shouldn’t take long to finish cleaning out these compartments and reinstalling all of the original furnishings,” Chen said. “I have a team of professionals going through the steward’s galley and all bathrooms to replace anything damaged by the fire and ensure that all of the equipment is functional.

“That will probably take longer than getting the furniture put together because I anticipate everything will need to be replaced. I won’t have an estimate on the time frame for those repairs until the inspection is complete, but the furniture should be in place in the next few hours. Oh, and the same is being done to your office adjacent to the bridge.”

Jack wanted to object, but exactly what could he say? The deed was done, and he really did need someone to assist him.

“What qualifications do you have as a personal steward?”

“Absolutely none. Nevertheless, I suspect I’ll be able to figure out the things that I need to know, and I’m going to have an assistant of my own—my wife—who will make sure I don’t miss anything important.”

Jack frowned slightly. “If you don’t have any skills in that area, what is it you normally do?”

“I was once a senior analyst with Confederation Intelligence. Your father believed my skills would be of use in your conflict with Vice Admiral LaChasse.”

That made Jack laugh. “Actually, we were just talking about needing somebody with your skills to help us get into the supply depot and get our hands on their secret records. Would that be the sort of thing you could help with?”

The man pursed his lips, then nodded. “That doesn’t fall precisely within my capabilities, but my wife would be able to fill in some of the gaps. Between the two of us, we should be able to assist in a covert breach of the facility and compromise their computer system in short order.

“I’m afraid that my wife is otherwise occupied at the moment, and it’s going to take a short time to coordinate our schedules to the point where we can begin scouting the target. We’d need to do that before we acquire the tools necessary to carry out the mission satisfactorily.”

Jack watched as several people began assembling the long table that would fill the center of this massive compartment. That would be where he and his senior officers dined during those special meals where they had to get together and work.

The table was carved extravagantly along the sides and legs, but the top was perfectly smooth and heavily polished. It looked almost brand-new, but it was nearly as old as Hunter herself. Some of the movers were assembling similar chairs, and he could only imagine how uncomfortable they’d be.

“Is your wife also a former operative with Confederation Intelligence?”

“Yes. Her specialties were field operations and computer intrusion. She’s quite good at what she does, and if anyone can find a way to subvert the security systems at the supply depot and their computers, she can.

“She’s currently offering Commodore Nastasi her assistance in tracking down where the funds that were meant for the battleship division have been siphoned off to. If anyone can find the traces that the thieves must’ve left behind, she can. She’s very good at everything she sets her hand to.”

Jack considered that and slowly nodded. “Personally, I don’t believe that we’re going to be able to get anything back. Does that match your assessment?”

“Any money that’s already been spent isn’t going to be recoverable, at least in the short to medium term. Depending on what it was spent on, it’s possible that JAG could seize what was purchased with those funds, but that will likely take years.

“What is possible is finding the mechanism that they used to divert the payments, undo them, and begin receiving the sums you should currently be getting. I don’t have any specifics on that, but I’d imagine that my wife will have a report for me in the next day or so that will let us know what her status is and if we can expect to see an influx from the budget at some point. If so, that might alleviate some of your immediate concerns.”

Jack raised his hands and gestured toward the ship around them. “You have no idea the number of concerns I have, Mister Chen. We’re going to be getting some untrained hands to get the life-support systems back online shortly, but we have no way to get parts.”

“Precisely how much leeway do you have in what happens aboard this ship, Commodore?” Chen asked, raising one eyebrow. “I can think of at least one method that might get you some of what you need, but it requires a bit of… moral adjustability.”

“Tell me what you’re thinking, and I’ll tell you if it’s something that I’ll consider. I won’t hold it against you if I say no.”

“Fair enough. When we came aboard, I saw many small craft sitting in the bay. I assume that the vast majority of them are nonfunctional but substantially whole. My research regarding this vessel is ongoing, but I believe that there are several other small craft bays that are likely in a similar state.

“To my mind, you have an excess of small craft and likely very few people with the skills to fly them. Would you consider declaring some of them as surplus to the needs of the service and allowing them to be sold to persons interested in that sort of thing?”

“Maybe,” Jack said slowly, not wanting to dismiss the idea out of hand.

“If so, some of the mechanics I saw wandering around the small craft bay were talking about what they could do with something like those vessels if they brought together a consortium of their friends to purchase them.

“They were also talking about the rather large swap meets below where parts and equipment are traded and sold. I believe that with the proper inducement, an exchange of hastily repaired small craft for a great deal of equipment and parts could be arranged.”

Jack focused his attention on the man and examined more closely. “You seem to have given a lot of thought to this situation for someone who just came aboard. Where did this idea come from?”

Chen smiled coolly. “There have been times during my career where I’ve assisted certain groups in rebelling against others, and supplying weapons and equipment can be both challenging and complex. Occasionally, one must deal with less than ethical sources and make deals that some officers wouldn’t want to sully their hands with.

“That kind of experience builds a certain flexibility into one when it comes to problem solving. I did have a few words with one of the mechanics, just to get an idea of how many parts below they thought might be of use here, and it’s my initial assessment that if properly managed, the exchange of perhaps a dozen small craft for whatever parts can be had from the various swap meets should give you at least a core of supplies that might be useful for your purposes.”

Jack smiled immediately. “I’ve discovered since I’ve assumed command of Hunter that I’m willing to be quite flexible in how I get what we need to do our tasks. As the head of the battleship division, declaring equipment surplus is within my purview, and it’s not even a violation of the regulations.

“Oh, I have no doubt that Vice Admiral LaChasse would scream her head off if she heard about it, but I’m willing to play ball. How do we go about it?”

Chen turned to stare at the people still bringing in furniture. “I need to finish overseeing this task before I can speak with any of the mechanics, but I have all of the necessary experience to negotiate such a deal.

“Frankly, this is actually a relatively small arrangement when compared to some of the negotiations that I’ve done in the past. Once I have things in motion, I should be able to present you with a timetable of how long it will take to begin getting the parts and equipment that can be acquired.”

He turned slowly in place, eyeing the workers critically. “There are going to be some people below that aren’t willing to sell at any price, but if I approach this community with their trusted friends at my side, a spirit of patriotism will motivate many of them to take the money and help get this vessel back into operable condition.

“I can’t imagine that it will take more than a few weeks to facilitate the trade, though it may take some time to get a dozen small craft into condition to be flown to the planet. That’s going to be something the mechanics would need to work on. I may have to promise them a portion of the proceeds in exchange for their assistance, but I don’t believe it will be a burden overall.”

Jack nodded. “That’s fine. We can’t work much faster than that anyway, but the sooner we begin getting parts up here—prioritizing stuff that might be useful in the life-support system—the sooner we can get those extra hands to expand the areas of the ship under pressure. Do you need some assistance to make this happen?”

Chen nodded. “I’m not a member of this crew, so having someone that can expedite matters would smooth the process.”

“Petty Officer Joby Hutton is the man you’re looking for. He’s also the one coming up with a general plan to get into the supply depot. At one time, he was a logistics officer and claims to know where many of the bodies are buried and what their processes are.”

For the first time, Chen smiled, showing his teeth like a wolf. “That would make things significantly easier. There will still be challenges, of course, but with that kind of insider knowledge, my wife should be able to put together a penetration package that will have a much greater chance of success without detection in a much shorter timeframe.”

At that moment, four men and a woman came through the hatch leading into the main corridor.

The uniforms they wore were similar to the historical ones in use aboard Hunter, but the scarlet stripe down the outside of the legs was twice as wide as the stripes on his uniform pants, as were the scarlet cuffs on the woman’s greatcoat. Also, her hat was scarlet rather than white.

What did that mean, and where had they gotten the strange variants?

“I think we’ve got trouble,” Jack said softly.

Chen turned his head slightly and then shook it. “No trouble, Commodore. That’s your security detail. As a flag officer, you’re entitled to a Marine escort, and your father made inquiries.

“I suspect that a ship of this size is actually supposed to have a considerable Marine detachment, which is something else to put on your to-do list if you’re going to bring it back up to specifications. You’re going to need an armory, and all of the associated areas will have to be brought up to Marine specifications.”

The thought made Jack frown. “I’m not sure that I agree with that. We certainly won’t be putting a Marine detachment aboard unless the vessel is in active service. A mothballed ship just doesn’t need that kind of thing.”

“You’re investigating the fact that someone is stealing a lot of money from the Confederation, and they’re not going to be pleased when you disrupt their operation. The chances of them lashing out are high.

“If they can delay the investigation, they can continue subverting the money in the short term while covering their tracks in the long term. They’re going to take steps that might involve violence.”

He smiled coolly. “While it’s certainly possible they won’t come for you personally, you can’t take that for granted. You’re entitled to a protective detail as a flag officer, and these marines aren’t just decorative.

“Obviously, they don’t report to me, but I did facilitate their transport here. You’re going to have to work out the details of their duties with them, but I can vouch for their authenticity.”

“I can’t even be sure you are who you say you are, so that doesn’t exactly carry much weight with me.”

Chen chuckled. “You’re beginning to learn. Good. They have official orders, and you’ll be able to confirm them through the systems that you would normally use. Me? You’re just going to have to call your father and verify that I am who I claim to be.”

By that point, the Marines had reached the two of them and stopped at a position of attention. The brown haired woman saluted. She was short, but muscular. Very fit.

“Lieutenant Laura Dubsky, Confederation Marines, sir. I’ve been assigned to lead your personal escort.”

Jack returned the salute. “I have to say that I wasn’t expecting you, Lieutenant. Things are a bit… unsettled here.”

“I can see that, sir. Is there somewhere we can speak privately? I have some concerns.”

“I imagine that you do. Come with me.”

With that, Jack set off for the bridge. Since it was just a historical display at this point, there was no reason anyone would be there, and it would provide them a location where they could speak privately while sitting down. His quarters certainly didn’t offer that kind of comfort at the moment.

Chen said he had an office near the bridge, but he didn’t know where it was, and they were probably cleaning it and moving furniture in, so it wouldn’t work either. He’d have to ask someone to point it out for him.

He could make some guesses at what Dubsky’s concerns were, and she wasn’t going to be happy with the answers he had for her. Such was life aboard Hunter. Everyone had to adapt.

At least they had hope for getting parts on the horizon. That was something he hadn’t expected, and it was a godsend. Things were starting to come together.

Which no doubt meant that something would go seriously wrong in short order, but he’d deal with it.

18

Jack led Dubsky and her Marines to the bridge. He now had a code in the system so he could get in without assistance. That was good. It would’ve been embarrassing to have this chat in the corridor.

Dubsky’s reaction to the bridge was just about the same as his had been. She stood there for a moment with her mouth partially open, just looking around.

Then her mouth snapped shut, and she got back to business. “How would you like to handle this, sir?”

“Like I said earlier, I probably have a fairly good idea of what your concerns are, but I’d like to hear them straight from you,” Jack said as he settled into the command seat. “All of these consoles are displaying recorded data. You can have a seat without worrying about accidentally doing anything.”

Apparently, the idea of sitting in the presence of a flag officer was not something that she was willing to entertain because she stood at parade rest. The rest of the Marines spread out. Two took positions flanking the large hatch, and the other two assumed the same positions inside.

“I have no understanding of what we’re doing here, sir,” Dubsky said. “I have to be frank. I didn’t know that this vessel even existed, much less that it had active duty personnel aboard.

“What are you doing here, how have you managed to offend someone to the point that you need a protective detail, and why in the universe are we wearing these ridiculous uniforms?”

Jack had no idea who had found uniforms for them, much less how they’d convinced the Marines to wear them, but that was a question for another time.

He leaned back a little and crossed his legs at the ankles. “Considering that it’s only been a few days since this started, that’s a surprisingly long story. Let me just give you the bullet points.”

As quickly as possible, he ran down how he’d been assigned command of the battleship division and Hunter. Then he detailed how the funding for the battleship division had been embezzled and how Vice Admiral LaChasse had him in her crosshairs.

Once he’d laid out the problems that he and Hunter were facing, he set out the goals they were attempting to achieve and detailed some of the things that were in progress to do so. That included the fact that they would shortly be receiving recruits, able spacers in training, and officer candidates from the Naval Academy to help do some of the repairs.

The last thing he mentioned was how the professor was still researching the Locusts, and his concern that the aliens might return. The man’s ongoing experimentation and potential breakthrough into reading the computer systems was something that he stressed as very important and worthy of protection because while he wasn’t sure that he bought into the man’s theory, he wasn’t going to dismiss it out of hand either.

“And that’s pretty much where we’re sitting, Lieutenant. Do you have any questions?”

“I think the only thing you missed was why we’re wearing these costumes, sir. Why aren’t we wearing regular uniforms?”

“Regulations and tradition. Since this vessel is a museum, it was determined that the crew would utilize those uniforms. We’re active duty, but we do have a few… peculiarities.

“From a Marine perspective, is there anything that we should be doing? I’m a Navy officer, so I’m sure that I’m missing something you think is vital. Since we’re still putting everything together, this is your opportunity to add your concerns to the pile of things that I need to get done.”

Dubsky relaxed slightly, falling into an at ease position. “Have you spoken to anyone at the Marine Academy?”

“I didn’t even speak to anyone at the Naval Academy. My father did. Why?”

“Because I think Commandant Schroeder is going to be seriously annoyed that he wasn’t asked to provide people for this task. Part of Marine training is in damage control and search and rescue. They might not be able to fully repair any of the systems that you’re talking about, but they’re hands that can be put to the task of cleaning out this ship and returning it to service.

“The general is someone that believes in tradition and respect for the past, from everything that I’ve heard. The moment that he finds out this ship isn’t in the condition it’s supposed to be in because the Navy screwed up, he’ll move heaven and earth to be certain his people are just as involved in correcting that deficiency. Maybe even more so.”

“We’ve already got something like three thousand people coming up to help. Don’t you think that’s enough?”

“To be frank, sir? No. You need to stuff this ship to the gills with people willing to do whatever it takes to clean up and refurbish everything they come across.

“Will it all be useful for fighting? No. Still, every extra set of hands will get something done that will make your life easier when you have no time to worry about it.”

She looked around the bridge for a few seconds before continuing. “I don’t know anything about this ship, but I’m confident it once had a Marine detachment aboard. The only way to bring those areas up to Marine standards is to have the Marines do the work.

“Besides, when push comes to shove, do you really want to shoot a finger at the Corps?”

She made a lot of good points. Their help wouldn’t hurt anything, and he didn’t want to offend the Marines. He’d always had a decent relationship with them, and this wasn’t the time to change that.

“If you don’t have any objections, I’ll send a heads-up to an acquaintance on General Schroeder’s staff and let him know what the Naval Academy is up to. Like most Marines, he’s a competitive sort, so I expect he’ll find a way to get involved without your direct intervention.

“But honestly, that’s not really my concern at the moment. You’ve stirred up some potentially hostile responses, and I’ve got to ensure the people I have on hand can effectively protect you if someone comes looking for trouble.”

She put her hands on her hips and scowled. “For God’s sake, you had the shore patrol show up unannounced and arrest you. You didn’t even know that they were aboard until they arrived in the mess hall.

“Forgive my impertinence, sir, but that is not acceptable. You really need to get somebody monitoring what’s going on in near space so that you have a little warning if you’ve got visitors.”

That really wasn’t a Marine issue, but he agreed with the sentiment. “It’s not like we’re overflowing with personnel, but you’re probably right. We need to set up a watch to keep an eye on who’s coming and going.

“I’ll talk to the people that I have working for me and find out if anybody has the appropriate skills. Then we’ll see if the equipment is functional. This all might be for nothing if those systems are down.”

“You won’t know unless you look, sir. As for guarding your person, I’m going to have a pair of Marines escorting you everywhere you go aboard ship for now. I think you should restrict yourself to the ship because going outside opens you up to far too many potential angles of attack. Also, I’d like to be kept informed about what the Judge Advocate General’s office finds.”

He nodded. “I’ll make sure that happens. Is there an area of the ship that’s set up for you?”

“Not yet. I’m sure that the Marine quarters are in vacuum, so that’s off the table, though I saw some pinnaces in the small craft bay as we arrived. The Marines likely had their own bay, so I’m not sure what’s going on with that. Probably nothing good.

“I’ll have to find quarters near yours that we can use for the time being, and it will serve as my office as well until we get things sorted out. Your quarters also need a pair of Marines stationed outside at all times. That means I need more than four Marines, so I’ll see about getting several squads assigned. Depending on what is needed, perhaps as much as a full platoon.”

“Then I’ll let you be about your business, Lieutenant,” Jack said and rose to his feet. “I’ve still got plenty of things that urgently need my attention and the amount of time that I have to do them in keeps getting shorter.

“I don’t have an objection to your guards keeping an eye on me, but I don’t want them crowding me. We’ve got to set boundaries so that I can still do what I need to do.”

“We’ll figure out how to make this work, sir. It’s all just a matter of pinning down the details in advance and understanding that other people have jobs to do. I’ll respect your space, so long as you respect that we’re here to keep you safe.”

Dubsky assigned two of the Marines to trail Jack, and he left. She could find a place to set up shop on her own, and she didn’t need him looking over her shoulder while she did it.

He needed to talk with Klein and tried to guess whether the mechanic would be in engineering or in the small craft bay. It wasn’t tough to figure out which was more likely. Klein had a passion for small craft.

As he’d guessed, he found Klein walking the rows of parked small craft. The other mechanics weren’t present, so Jack assumed they were in engineering.

“Are you window shopping or looking to pick something up?” Jack asked.

The mechanic grinned. “Oh, I wouldn’t mind picking something up, but I don’t have enough to make the purchase. I don’t suppose you’d take payments?”

“You might be surprised at what I’m willing to do. I’m told that you spoke with my steward, David Chen. We’re talking about selling some small craft and using the funds to buy parts from the swap meets. Were you serious when you said it was possible?”

The mechanic gave Jack his undivided attention. “That was a theoretical discussion, but if it’s something you’re willing to entertain, I can find enough people to make it work.

“The devil is always in the details, and it depends on the terms you’re willing to offer. To shoot your question back at you, are you serious about making this happen?”

Jack nodded. “I am. The thing is, we’re going to have to do this without setting off alarm bells at Navy headquarters. I have the authority to do this, but if anyone catches wind of it, there’s going to be hell to pay. As much as possible needs to stay off the radar until such time as we’re ready to execute.”

Klein nodded and began walking around the pinnace. “I’ll head back down shortly and start talking to people. I know some folks with pockets deep enough to fund this project, and they’ll probably be willing to deal if the terms are right.

“Unfortunately, no matter how well we pitch this, there are going to be folks that don’t want to sell, and nothing we do is going to change their minds. Some folks are collectors, and they won’t want to give up what they have.”

He raised a hand to forestall any response. “That isn’t to say it can’t be done, but it would need a different approach. I know the people we’re talking about, and I think I’m the right guy to act as a go-between. I’m willing to do that, but you’re going to have to cut me in for a small percentage.”

“You’ll have to negotiate the details with Mister Chen, but I agree in principle.

“Once you’ve done that, you’re going to have to figure out how to get the small craft down to the surface. How would you go about that? And what types of small craft are you thinking?”

The mechanic gestured toward the pinnace beside him. “I’ll be able to sell a few cutters because someone is always looking to get them, but these will bring in a lot more cash. I understand that the weapon systems would have to be stripped out, but that’s expected from excessed equipment.

“Just walking around this bay, I’ve seen more than a dozen of them. I suspect this ship has at least four small craft bays, and probably a fifth dedicated to Marine use. You do the math.

“What I’d really like before we get down to the details is to do a complete inventory. I’d have to open up the other bays and do a count.”

“That shouldn’t be too difficult. Talk with Danek and see what she can do about accessing the other bays. It may require putting on a vacuum suit. Is that going to be a problem?”

The man shook his head. “I’ve done some work in vacuum. As long as I’ve got somebody more skilled than I am to double-check my suit, I’m good to go.

“Whatever happens, I don’t want to leave you short on equipment. We’re undoubtedly going to have to salvage parts to make everything work. Nothing that’s been sitting this long will be completely functional, but for our purposes, they don’t have to be. All we have to do is get them down to the surface, and the buyers will figure it out for themselves.”

Klein pursed his lips. “If we’re talking about needing to smuggle them down in the first place, maybe I should see about leasing a recovery ship. They’ve got enough space to fit a couple of small craft at a time. It’s possible we can manually load some of the inoperable ones.

“Moving small craft under those conditions would require turning off the gravity in the bay, but with some temporarily mounted thruster units, we could maneuver what we’re looking for out of the ship.”

He gave Jack an impish smile. “If we pick a bay on the other side of the ship from Navy headquarters, we might even manage this without anyone noticing. This is a museum as far as they’re concerned. How much attention do you think they’re paying to it?”

“More than I’d like but probably less than you’d expect. The admiral isn’t taking my command very seriously, and I don’t think she’s worried I’ll be looting the ship

“Work out the details with Chen as quickly as you can, then go down and put your consortium together. Let me know when you’re ready to do that inventory, and we’ll make it happen.”

“I’ll do the inventory before I go.”

The exterior hatches started to open, and a small craft flew in. It was a civilian cutter. That was unusual enough to make him frown.

How had whoever it was opened the hatches? Dubsky was right. He had no control over who came and went aboard Hunter.

The small craft deftly floated to an open space near them and settled. The hatch opened and a compact woman with bright red hair stuck her head out.

“Don’t just stand there like idiots,” she ordered. “I’ve got an injured woman aboard, and we need to get her some help. Hurry!”

Jack had no idea what the woman was talking about and started toward her, only to be cut off by one of the Marines. He’d forgotten they were there.

“Let us check it out, sir,” the man said. “It could be a trap.”

The other Marine scampered to the small craft. In seconds he stuck his head back out. “We’re going to need some medics. We’ve got a badly injured woman here.”

“Didn’t I just say that?” the woman complained.

Jack didn’t know if Hunter’s sickbay was even functional. Why this woman was bringing someone here for medical care was the real question.

“Let them take care of getting her out,” Jack said. “Who are you, and what’s going on?”

The redhead exited the cutter and stepped aside. Klein went in to assist the Marine. “My name is Tina Chen. I assume you’ve met my husband by now. I went to headquarters to coordinate with Commodore Nastasi and JAG.

“She wasn’t in her office today, so I dropped by her quarters to see if I could have a private word. I found her there, unconscious and bleeding out. Someone had stabbed her and left her for dead. I’m a fairly decent field medic, but she needs better care than I can give her. That’s why I brought her here.”

Jack watched with concern as Klein and the Marine carried the unconscious Nastasi out of the cutter. She had a wound on her upper torso covered by a bloody bandage. She was pale and obviously not in good condition.

“Why didn’t you take her to the medical center aboard headquarters? They’ve got plenty of doctors there. How did you even get her through the small craft bay and into your cutter without someone freaking out?”

“I’m very resourceful. Judging by your rank tabs, you’re Commodore Romanoff. Someone broke into her quarters past all her security. She had a protective detail as well. Where do you think they are?”

Jack opened his mouth—but had no idea what to say. He hadn’t seen any Marines with the JAG officer when he’d met her earlier, but that didn’t mean anything. If she was supposed to be under protection, what happened to her detail?

That was a disturbing question he’d have to look into after he took care of the crisis at hand.

“I have no idea where sickbay is, so we’re going to have to find someone who does,” he said, gesturing for his steward’s wife to accompany him. “We’ll just have to hope it’s got what we need to help her.”

Once Nastasi was stabilized, he was going to have to untangle the mess she just dropped in his lap. People were going to be looking for Nastasi—both because she’d gone missing and because she hadn’t ended up dead—and he’d have to plan accordingly.

He needed to keep things quiet for now, and he wasn’t sure how to do that. Well, he’d have to make things up as he went and hope for the best.

That was becoming a far more common occurrence in his new life than he liked, but it wasn’t as if he had much choice in the matter.

They raced out of the small craft bay, looking for sickbay. A woman’s life hung in the balance.

19

The results of their search ended up being a mixed bag. Sickbay was nonfunctional and closed off, but there was a medical aid station that was well-stocked with ordinary medicines and even some surgical gear. Considering that all of the equipment looked to be a grab bag of military and civilian stuff, it was probably purchased through non-standard channels.

Jack didn’t catch the medic’s name and didn’t ask any questions, content to let the medic examine the wounded commodore.

“It’s a deep puncture but seems to have missed her arteries,” he said after using some instruments to open the wound and look inside. “There’s a fair amount of bleeding, and I’m going to have to take care of that in short order. I’ll need a surgical assistant. Is anyone here trained as a medic?”

Tina Chen stepped up. “I’ve had field training and should be able to assist you, Doctor.”

“I’m not a doctor anymore, just a medic. We can save this woman’s life, but we need to get started. Everyone else, out. I’ll let you know when we’re done.”

Somewhat nonplussed, Jack retreated from the aid station with the Marine and Klein. He’d intended to ask Chen for more details, but that would have to wait.

Meanwhile, he needed to anticipate what the reaction was going to be to the commodore’s disappearance. To do that, he’d have to figure out a way to get information out of headquarters without incriminating himself.

Frankly, he wasn’t sure how he could manage that.

Maybe the best answer was to just let sleeping dogs lie. They’d eventually discover that Nastasi was missing and start a search. If there was evidence of her being attacked in her own quarters, it would only make things happen with more urgency.

His assumption was that Tina Chen left the crime scene as she’d found it. She had an injured woman to take care of, and time had been of the essence.

Then again, she’d apparently moved the wounded woman from senior officer’s housing to the small craft bay without anyone seeing her. He wasn’t sure how that was possible, but if the woman was capable of doing that, then maybe he shouldn’t rule out the possibility that she’d sanitized the crime scene as well.

He was still thinking about that when Dubsky came trotting down the corridor. She came to a halt in front of him, staring more at the door to the aid station than at him.

“I heard that somebody had been injured. Are you okay, Commodore?”

He nodded. “My steward’s wife arrived with someone that had been attacked. We still don’t know the details, but our medic seems to think he can operate successfully. Once that’s done, we can find out what happened.”

Tiredly, he rubbed his face. “All I can say for sure at this point is that this is going to complicate our situation. I don’t want to react until we have more information, but the injured woman is Commodore Nastasi from the Judge Advocate General’s office.

“The little information that I’ve received indicates that she was attacked in her quarters, and her protective detail was not present. No one seems to be up in arms yet, but this has to be related to the investigation into the embezzlement of funds from the battleship division.”

The Marine officer swore. “That complicates matters, sir. We need to report that we have her, but if someone is trying to kill her, there’s no guarantee that we won’t get an attack squad of our own. We don’t know who the embezzler is or what resources they have, and they’ve now proven they’re willing to kill to keep it quiet.

“This might be one of those times where it’s better for me to stick my fingers in my ears and pretend that I didn’t hear any of this. Once the surgery is complete and the commodore can talk, you should question her closely on who attacked her and what happened to her protective detail.

“In any case, I think I need to get more people here faster than I’d anticipated. If you’ll excuse me?”

Without waiting for him to respond, Dubsky spun on her heel and strode back up the corridor, her comm unit out.

He really needed to make a call of his own but wasn’t sure how to reach the person he needed to talk to. He needed to warn the professor to be on his guard. In fact, it might be best for him to be on his way back up rather than waiting until tomorrow.

If anyone knew how to contact the professor, it was going to be Hutton. He might also be able to get Jack a comm unit so that he could actually get ahold of people without having to run around the ship looking for them.

Sadly for him, that meant that he had to visit various locations in the ship looking for the man. He eventually found Hutton taking notes as David Chen was laying out what was still required in Jack’s quarters.

The two men turned to face Jack as he strode up, but he didn’t give them an opportunity to speak.

“We’ve got a situation. David, your wife has arrived, but she’s brought an injured guest. She’s assisting in surgery at the aid station. I think you’d best see what’s happening because the situation at headquarters just spun out of control.

“And Joby, I need a comm unit that can connect to the ship’s network. I also need a contact number for the professor. I think it’s best if we get him back here as soon as possible.”

Hutton reached into his uniform jacket and pulled out a comm unit. “You can have this one for now, sir. It’s already got the professor’s number in it, and it’s connected to the ship’s network. While you’re dealing with that, I’ll get you a unit and see that all the important contacts are preloaded.”

The men hurried out, each already focused on their tasks, leaving Jack alone to try to get the most exposed member of his crew to safety. Of course, there were two crewmembers at the swap meet, but he didn’t think they were anyone’s targets. Prescott was another matter entirely.

The comm unit was a modern civilian unit, and that surprised him. He’d half expected to get an antique. He scrolled through the list of contacts, making mental notes of some of the more unusual ones. The names were quite descriptive, yet still obscure.

When he got to the professor’s entry, he initiated the call and waited as the ship’s network forwarded it to the planetary grid. The entire process only took a few moments.

“Yes, Joby?”

“It’s not Hutton,” Jack said. “I just borrowed his comm so that I could get you on the channel faster. Are you somewhere you can speak privately?”

“Hold one moment.” There was a pause of about fifteen seconds before Prescott came back on. “I’m in another room now. You can speak freely.”

In actuality, Jack could do no such thing. The network might be monitored. That didn’t mean that a human being was listening in or would ever hear what was said, but some things still needed to be kept vague.

“I’m going to keep things fairly general, but I wanted to let you know we’ve got a situation up here that needs your immediate attention. Is it possible that you could convince your new friend to either loan you the equipment or to come up with you?”

“Possibly, but I’m going to have to speak with him first.”

“Do that. I’m sending Hutton to pick you up as soon as we’re done talking. He can fill you in on the specifics of what’s going on.”

“And you can’t give me any details?”

“I’d prefer not to under the circumstances. As I said, it would be extremely helpful if we could get you and your new associate up to Hunter as soon as possible.”

Prescott seemed to think about that for a few seconds. “Hold on for one moment and let me inquire.”

While Jack was waiting, he looked around the dining room and saw that the massive table had been fully assembled and all of the chairs placed around it.

The movers seemed to have left, but he could hear someone inside the steward’s galley working on something.

He was about to head for his suite when Prescott came back on the channel. “My new friend is amenable to coming up for a visit and bringing his equipment. I can’t guarantee that he’ll stay very long, but it’s possible that I can arrange to borrow everything and give it a test drive before trying to recreate the results for myself.

“I have to say that what I’ve seen thus far is extremely promising. I’m beginning to suspect that it might have something to do with the computer core that I’ve been using. It’s possible that the one I have on hand is defective in a manner that I’ve been unable to grasp because I didn’t have a working unit to compare it to.”

“I hear what you’re saying, Professor, but let’s keep the update to a minimum. I’ll let Joby arrange for a pickup location. Bring everything that you can convince your friend to share and make your way back up here as expeditiously as possible. Keep an eye out because there might be trouble brewing.”

“That sounds ominous. I’m not certain what I would do if trouble found me, but I’ll get back to Hunter as quickly as possible. I’d imagine we can be there within the next couple of hours if Joby is prompt.”

“I’ll see you then,” Jack said, disconnecting the call and pocketing the comm unit before the scientist could respond. Best to make sure he didn’t say anything too interesting on a potentially monitored line.

Eventually, they’d need real military comms. They were encrypted end to end, and he wouldn’t have to worry about people outside the Navy listening in. Not that that would be all that helpful under the current circumstances.

While he was waiting for Hutton to return, Jack made his way to his suite and stopped dead in his tracks. All of the old furniture in the first room had been replaced with antiques. Chairs, couches, and even art on the walls.

He had to admit that he liked the art. The first room had three pictures, all of planets painted from orbit. They were actual canvas painted with oils. True old-fashioned artistic endeavors.

The first world was Faust. He’d recognize his birth planet anywhere. The second was Earth. The third was unknown to him but was a lovely world, even if it was mostly water.

The furniture bore a striking resemblance to the chairs in the main compartment. The legs and arms were made of elaborately carved wood, though portions of it were padded. That included the armrests, the seats, and the back.

He had his doubts about how comfy they were but allowed himself a moment to settle into one of the chairs to check it for himself. To his surprise, it was quite comfortable.

Even though the visible portions of the chair were made of carved wood, whatever was underneath the padding adjusted to his body in a way that indicated technology at work.

Modern furniture was made to be self-adjusting, and he supposed that even something built two hundred years ago would have something like that if it was of sufficient quality. He was shocked that the mechanism still worked.

Given that he didn’t know how much time he had left, he took a quick tour of his suite and found that every single room was now fully furnished with furniture and artwork. If this was how the admiral in command of the battleship had lived back in the day, he’d lived quite well.

Some of the smaller rooms now had furnishings that made their purpose obvious. One was an office with a desk that was both ancient and far larger than Jack would’ve ever chosen for himself. Its vast surface rivaled the one in Vice Admiral LaChasse’s office.

If his private office had this monstrosity, what the hell was sitting in his public one? He actually dreaded finding out, but it would happen soon enough, he was sure.

He took a few minutes to sit behind the desk and explore its mysteries. There was a built-in computer, but it was ancient. To his surprise, it accepted his code and was already connected to the ship’s network. Or maybe it had always been ready to connect to Hunter’s network but had just been too far away to connect.

Unable to restrain his curiosity, Jack made his way to his bedroom and discovered that it matched the theme he’d seen thus far. His makeshift furniture was gone, replaced by antiques, including a canopy bed that was large enough for him and several friends.

They didn’t even have to be close friends.

Jack had seen large beds in various entertainment videos over the years, but this one was significantly bigger than anything he’d ever imagined. It had to be custom made.

To verify a suspicion, he took a moment to stretch out on it and felt the mattress adjust. Like the chairs, it was made to see to his comfort. No lumps for him or any friends he chose to invite for a sleepover.

Shaking his head, he started to take a quick tour of his bathroom but found that there were still workers there disassembling the shower and bathtub to get at the plumbing in the walls. Neither of them noticed him peering through the door, so he quickly withdrew.

His quarters were fit for a reigning monarch. It was utterly ridiculous.

Jack was confident that this was somehow all part of his father’s mysterious grand plan. His Father seemed bound and determined to embarrass him under the guise of looking like he was helping.

Why couldn’t he arrange for something useful? It was ludicrous for a serving naval officer to live in such luxury. What was his father really up to?

Once again, there wasn’t anything that he could do about the situation. He’d just have to accept that whatever scheme his father was involved in, it was beyond his control.

Whatever the Sons and Daughters of the Locust War had demanded as payment for all of this was going to have to come out of his father’s pocket after all. It wasn’t as if Jack had any money to give them.

Considering what had happened to Nastasi, he was more likely to get a knife in the back than see any of the funds that were allocated for the battleship division. He still couldn’t believe that someone had tried to kill a flag officer. Who the hell was behind all of this?

The comm unit in his pocket went off, and Jack pulled it out. The incoming number was unknown to him, and he briefly wrestled with himself before pressing the accept button.

“Romanoff.”

“Hutton here, sir. If you’ll come back out to the formal dining room, I’ve got your comm.”

“On my way.”

He disconnected and made his way out into the large compartment. Hutton was standing there with a comm unit identical to the one Jack had borrowed.

“You got a lot of interesting contacts on your list, PO,” Jack said as they exchanged units. “The professor said he’ll be ready by the time you get down there. Take the cutter and pick up the professor, his friend, and any equipment they want to bring back.

“I’d appreciate it if you get this done before anyone takes an interest in you or the professor.”

Hutton pocketed his comm and nodded. “I’ll head down and get them right now, sir.”

Jack accompanied him into the main corridor and picked up the Marine that had stopped outside his room to talk with their comrades on guard. Together, they watched Hutton head toward the small craft bay.

Not that they were alone for long as David Chen strode up from the other direction.

He came to a stop next to Jack and smiled grimly. “It seems that our new guest wasn’t injured quite as severely as her attackers had wished. The surgery is done and she’s in recovery with an excellent long-term prognosis.

“Our medic anticipates that she’ll wake up in the next half hour, and I think it might be prudent for you to be present when that happens.”

“I think you’re right,” Jack said as he started down the corridor toward the aid station. “While we’re waiting, you can introduce me to your wife, and we can get an actual sitrep from her. Things are coming to a head, and I need to know what the hell is going on before someone comes looking for me.”

20

Jack and Chen returned to the aid station and found the medic and Chen’s wife cleaning up. Commodore Nastasi lay on one of the beds with a sheet pulled up to her neck, still unconscious. Her color was better, and that was somewhat reassuring.

“What’s her condition and prognosis?” Jack asked. “And forgive me, but I don’t remember your name.”

“No reason you should,” the medic grumbled as he continued cleaning and sterilizing the surgical instruments. “I was sitting at the back of the meeting, and you only spoke to me face-to-face for a couple of minutes before you got distracted by some other crisis. Believe me, I wasn’t offended. I get it.

“She took a deep stab wound to the upper left thorax. It looks like her attacker was going for her heart but got her lung instead. My read of the wound leads me to believe that the blade had a curved tip, and that combined with the entry wound hitting the commodore’s left breast likely caused a deviation in the attacker’s planned strike and contributed to her survival.”

He clenched his fist. “The wound caused the commodore problems with breathing and bleeding, but her guardian angel dealt with the punctured lung expeditiously and appropriately and saved her life. Her long-term prognosis is good, but she’s going to have to rest and recover.

“Her physical safety is outside my area of responsibility, but it seems that someone really wants her dead, and I’m not sure how exposed she is here. Basically, what I’m saying is that I can only speak to her medical condition and recovery, but I don’t believe that the dangerous situation that brought her to our door is over.”

“I’ll see to putting a guard outside the aid station for now,” Jack said. “I’m running out of Marines, so it may end up being regular crewmen. We’ll figure it out.”

“That’s not going to work. I have to see sick or injured people at all hours, and I can’t have the aid station blocked off because I’ve got an important patient in recovery.”

Jack considered that and had to admit that the man was right. Also, one little aid station wasn’t going to cut it when the influx of people started, and there was no way a single medic could handle even basic care of thousands of people. They needed extra medical personnel, more equipment and supplies, and to get sickbay back online.

Another item to add to his never-ending list of things that he needed to accomplish right now.

“How long is she going to need continuous observation? What I’m getting at is that as soon as she’s capable of being checked in on rather than observed at all times, I think I know where we can move her and provide some security. And you still haven’t told me your name.”

“Duncan McRae,” he said. “I used to be a general practitioner, studying to be a surgeon. Didn’t get far along the track, but far enough to save this woman.

“I think I’d like to keep her here for at least the next forty-eight hours. At that point—assuming an adequate recovery—she can be moved somewhere else, and I can use equipment to monitor her in case she has a crisis when I’m not there. I can also come and check on her periodically to make sure that she’s healing the way she needs to.”

“Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll put a couple of guards outside the aid station for the next forty-eight hours, and they’ll vet whoever comes to see you. That doesn’t mean that they’ll stop them, but just make sure they don’t pose a threat to the commodore.

“Honestly, anybody that’s known to you isn’t going to be bothered by the guards. You’ll be able to perform your duties just the way you have been.”

The man grumbled something inaudible but nodded. “I suppose I can live with that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to finish getting everything back in order before the next crisis blows in. If you’ve got any further medical questions, don’t hesitate to ask, but don’t disturb me unless you actually need to. I’ve got work to do.”

Jack had to admit that he kind of liked the blunt man. He had no idea what the doctor had done to lose his medical license and be busted down to enlisted, but he didn’t care. As he’d told everyone in the mess hall, they all started fresh.

He waited for Tina Chen to finish washing up and then gestured for her and her husband to step out into the corridor. Then he placed the two Marines in front of the aid station door and told them that he’d only be a few steps away. His intent was to keep them there until Hutton returned to the ship and could get some of the regular crew in place.

“Now that this crisis is over,” he said, looking at Tina steadily, “I think you should tell us exactly what happened and how much trouble we’ve got coming our way. If, as I suspect, the commodore’s quarters look like somebody tried to murder her there—and potentially succeeded—then all hell is going to break loose very soon.

“You said that you’d spoken with someone in the Judge Advocate General’s office to see the commodore. That means that they’re going to associate you with her. Eventually, they’re going to link you back to your cutter and be able to track you here.”

She smiled, her green eyes giving off an impression of smugness. “That’s unlikely. I took precautions to make sure that wouldn’t happen, in fact. You’re right to be concerned, but I don’t think we’re going to have any unexpected visitors.

“I did speak with the person at the front desk in the Judge Advocate General’s office, but all I did was ask if Commodore Nastasi was in. When he said that she hadn’t been in yet, I told him I’d come back later. It was a mundane interaction, and I think the odds of him associating me with the attack are low.”

Personally, he wasn’t convinced.

“When I went to the commodore’s personal quarters, I made sure that none of the fixed cameras saw me, though that proved to be a non-issue,” she continued. “I wanted this to be a private visit with no record. They’re not going to find video of me going anywhere near her quarters.

“When I arrived at her door, I found it partially open and went in. The attack had already taken place, and I found Commodore Nastasi lying in the middle of her living room, already unconscious. She hasn’t woken up since then, so I’m sure her relocation to this ship will be a surprise when she comes around.”

He raised a hand to stop her from proceeding because he wanted to clarify his understanding of the situation. “Those were senior officers’ quarters, so shouldn’t every approach have a camera?”

Her smile widened a little. “Sometimes one has a moment of serendipity. Whoever had arranged to attack the commodore had disabled the security cameras around her quarters. That means not only did I not have to break into the security systems to do the same thing, risking leaving a trail that they could have traced back to me, but whoever attacked her won’t have any idea where she’s gone.

“I’m guessing at the order of events here, but the fact that they left the commodore breathing tells me that the attacker had no real training in assassination. If I had been running this operation, I wouldn’t have just stabbed her in the chest and left her to bleed out. I’d have slit her throat and been done with it.”

The matter-of-fact way she said that made Jack’s blood run a little cold. What exactly had his steward’s wife done for ONI? For that matter, what had his steward done? The pair of them suddenly seemed a lot more dangerous than he’d initially thought.

“I… see. So, you found yourself in the middle of someone else’s operation. Obviously, you saved the commodore and spirited her away. How do you imagine that affected whatever they were planning? I’ll assume from the fact that the door was slightly ajar that they intended to return for her body.”

The woman nodded. “That’s my assumption as well, but I believe that we’re probably only dealing with a single attacker. If there had been two people, they could’ve carried her away without delay. The attacker left to get something to hide her body, so that once they got out of the area where the cameras were disabled, they wouldn’t be spotted.

“The attacker didn’t have anything in place to deal with the fallout of the assassination, though they brought a knife suitable to the task. I checked her kitchen, and it wasn’t one of hers.

“I suppose the attacker could’ve been a woman, but the odds favor a man. Most people involved in these kinds of endeavors are male.”

Jack wasn’t going to argue with her logic. And, in the end, the gender of the attacker didn’t matter.

“So you stabilized Commodore Nastasi. How did you get her out of her quarters without raising any red flags?”

“Unlike her attacker, I’ve trained for field operations. I won’t say that it was easy, but I’m grateful that the commodore isn’t a large woman. I was able to get her into a fireman’s carry and into the maintenance passages before the attacker returned to retrieve her.

“I’d imagine that her attacker was most dismayed when he returned and found she’d escaped.”

No doubt.

“I took one of her blankets to keep between us so that I didn’t get blood all over me, though I undoubtedly left at least a small trail because the commodore’s clothing was soaked. Once we were in the maintenance passages, I found a wheeled bin that was of sufficient size, put the commodore in it, and covered her with the blanket.

“I also stole someone’s maintenance uniform. I’d imagine it was there for times they got slimed and didn’t want to have to go home and change.”

She wasn’t wearing it now, so he wondered if she’d changed while in the cutter or somehow gotten rid of the evidence. Considering her training, probably the latter.

“With that done, I was able to find an exit suitably distant from the senior officers quarters and pushed her right up to my cutter in the small craft bay, where I loaded the bin and took off. I orbited Faust while I stabilized her condition, then I switched transponder codes before I came back into view of headquarters, so they won’t come looking here.”

“All in all, very well done,” he congratulated her. “Any idea what happened while you were escaping?”

“I believe the attacker returned to her quarters while I was in the maintenance passages and found her gone. Personally, I’d have been skeptical that she could’ve gotten away on her own, but an amateur might very well have thought that so. I’m sure that has them in quite a panic at this point.”

She grinned coldly at that.

“As for what they’re going to do about it, that’s the real question. We don’t know who attacked her or how they drew off her security detail. What’s their story going to be now that she’s disappeared? They have to assume that she’s either still alive or that she’s crawled off somewhere to die. In either case, they have to be afraid that someone will find her.

“If this is a single person or small group of amateurs, they may come up with a cover story when she isn’t immediately discovered so that they can keep searching for her. I’ll head back to headquarters and make some discreet inquiries. I should be able to make another pass at the JAG offices and get whatever the official story is in short order.”

Jack frowned. “Isn’t that going to draw undue attention to you? They’ll be paranoid.”

“Commodore Nastasi is in charge of a major department. Keeping the proposed interaction low key should reassure whoever attacked her that I’m not someone to be concerned about.

“This attack had to be related to the investigation into the embezzled funds, and as long as I’m not claiming to be part of that mess, they’ve got bigger fish to fry. And the more time that passes with no one finding her, the more desperate they’ll get. It’s morbidly funny, really.”

This whole thing sounded dangerous to Jack.

“I can see that you’re still concerned about the situation,” David Chen said calmly. “You don’t need to be. My wife is an experienced operative, and she’s not going to do anything to draw negative attention to herself.

“We’ll need eyes and ears aboard headquarters to know exactly what’s going on. If they go to the trouble of concealing Commodore Nastasi’s disappearance, then it’s likely a good idea to keep her here for the time being.”

“When she wakes up, she’s going to be able to make that decision for herself,” Jack said with a sigh. “If she says that she wants to go back to headquarters and be surrounded by a triple rank of Marine guards, then that’s her call. We’re trying to save her life, not kidnap her.”

“For the assassin to get into her quarters, she had to open the door for them,” Tina Chen countered. “That means that she trusted that person. In addition, whoever attacked her was able to do so without her protective detail present. That implies some level of control over their deployment.

“What if this was someone inside her protective detail? Perhaps even their commander? History is rife with betrayal by one’s most trusted guards. Do you think that she’s going to feel safe there when someone was able to get to her so easily?”

“Maybe not, but that’s still not our call to make,” he said firmly. “We can encourage her to think about what she wants to do very carefully, but the final decision is hers.”

Even as he made that statement, he wasn’t sure he was making the right call. Once that particular cat was out of the bag, there’d be no stuffing it back in. When Nastasi woke up, they were going to have to have a long talk about what was best for her, and he’d do his best to convince her to play it safe.

Still, it was her life, and she’d be the one to make that decision.

He was still thinking about it when he saw Dubsky walking up the corridor toward them. She was smiling, so perhaps she had good news.

Of course, she was a Marine, so she might be smiling because trouble was headed their way. There really wasn’t any way to know for sure ahead of time.

“Commodore, Mister Chen, Mrs. Chen,” the Marine officer said. “How is Commodore Nastasi?”

“The surgery was successful, and she’s in recovery,” Jack said. “We’ll be able to ask her some questions when the doctor says it’s safe. She’ll stay here until she doesn’t need constant observation, or she makes the decision to go back to headquarters.

“If she decides to remain here, I’m thinking of moving her into one of the rooms inside my suite so that our reduced Marine presence can protect her as well. We don’t have enough bodies to do everything we need to do.”

The woman’s smile widened slightly. “Then I might have some good news. I wasn’t able to get any additional Marines for this mission through official channels, but I did speak with some friends of friends that are willing to bolster my forces for a little while. Perhaps you could speak with your father about some type of remuneration for them for doing so.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll certainly encourage him to,” Jack said. “Every pair of trained hands we have to protect this ship is probably a good thing. Are we talking Marines of the same caliber as the ones with you?”

Now she showed teeth. “You could say that. Of course, they’ve been retired for a while and don’t have the equipment that they’d normally have had if they were on active duty, but even so, they’re a lot better than nothing at all.”

“I’ll contact my father right away, then,” Jack said. “If you can give me a contact number so I can have him speak to them directly, then I won’t have to be an intermediary to the negotiations.

“As a former grand admiral, he might also be able to get assistance from them that I might not get on my own. I’m certainly willing to let him use his prestige to get us the things we need to accomplish our mission.”

The lieutenant pulled out her comm and waited for him to retrieve his before sharing the contact information.

Jack scanned it briefly and saw that the label identified the person as Mac Turner. “Since I have all of our Marines doing something, if you want to keep an eye on me while I get this settled, that might be for the best.”

“No problem, sir. Still, you might want to multitask. It seems like there’s too much going on to be waiting around for anything.”

That was the absolute truth. He didn’t have time to wait for everything to be solved before getting on to the next item.

“We need eyes on what’s going on around us. That seems particularly needful right now. I don’t suppose the flight control area in the small craft bay is operational.”

“Probably not, and I wouldn’t count on having it working anytime soon,” she cautioned. “On the other hand, I did see this colossal bridge with a lot of available stations. I’m sure that one of them could be configured to operate as flight control for the time being.

“If, of course, you have anyone trained to do something like that.”

“If we can find a rotating group of people to warn us if someone is trying to land or communicate with us, then I think that might be enough for the time being,” he said. “Let’s go see to that right now. Commodore Nastasi will still be here when I get that settled.”

21

Setting up a comm and control watch took far longer than Jack had initially expected. No one admitted to having anything close to the skills necessary to direct traffic around the ship, but a few people had some communications experience. That was just going to have to do.

Flight operations would normally be conducted from the darkened control post watching over the small craft bay. In fact, each bay would have a separate control post that would work in concert overseeing operations outside the ship.

Unfortunately, that post was nonfunctional. That meant he had to use the bridge for the moment. It was empty, so he could work with that.

The next obstacle was the bridge consoles. They’d been configured to run recordings, not perform actual operations. That meant that he had to call Danek to reconfigure one, which annoyed her to no end since she had more on her plate than he did.

Teaching himself and the three people he’d conscripted how to use the comm system and scanners in such a way that the information made any sense at all wasn’t simple or straightforward considering their unfamiliarity with the systems or controls, but they managed.

Eventually.

When he got more people, he’d find some extra hands to help ease the load, but for now, they would have three watches with no relief. The spacers hadn’t bothered to hide their displeasure, but they hadn’t argued, so that was a win.

By the time he was satisfied that they all understood the basic process and could perform the various tasks from a check sheet that they’d created together, it was dinner time, and he was starving.

Jack left the three to figure out their schedule and headed for the mess hall with his Marine escort. The food wasn’t going to be very good, but at least it would keep him from starving to death. Once he finished refueling, he could hunt down the professor and get an update about what he’d discovered, then he’d check in on Nastasi.

He walked into the mess hall and slowed. He’d eaten here every day since he’d arrived aboard Hunter and had mentally blocked out things like the tables that weren’t in use and the abysmal quality of the food. He no longer even sensed them at this point.

Now, he smelled something cooking that seemed to be several orders of magnitude more interesting than before. Of course, they might have just set fire to some bacon, but a man could hope.

He changed course for the galley to see exactly what was going on.

Petty officers Ashford and Azzopardi were still there, but they weren’t alone. A middle-aged man wearing a bright white jacket and hat was busy cooking something while explaining what he was doing to the other two. For their part, they were just listening intently.

Jack had absolutely no idea who this new person was or how he’d gotten aboard Hunter. Obviously, he was a cook—almost certainly sent by his father—but once again, he’d been blindsided by the man’s arrival.

How many other people were aboard that he didn’t know about? On a regular Navy ship, the executive officer kept track of that kind of thing, but his highest-ranking subordinate was busy with her own work in engineering, so he’d been shouldering that job too.

At least they now had a watch over the area around Hunter, and he’d be notified if any small craft attempted to board without clearance. In the meantime, he needed to figure out who this new person was.

“Smells pretty good, doesn’t it?” a female voice asked from behind him.

Jack turned and found another stranger. This one was a relatively short, muscular young woman with pale red hair in a civilian tunic with a wide belt boasting many pouches. Floating silently in the air behind her was a small drone that seemed to be focused on him.

“I’m sorry,” Jack said. “Who are you, and what is that thing doing?”

For that matter, why hadn’t the Marine at his side freaked out because some unknown person was wielding technology in his presence that they hadn’t checked? The only answer he could think of was that they’d already identified her and didn’t see her as a threat.

The woman extended her hand and smiled. “I’m Christine Hooghuis, and I’m your official videographer, Commodore Romanoff. Just think of me as part of the background and ignore my drones.

“They’re not recording yet anyway. I’ve only got them out to make sure they’re working the way they’re supposed to. I won’t start recording until I have your explicit permission to do so.”

“Videographer?” he asked and shook her hand. “Why would you be recording me, and who would you be doing it for?”

“The Sons and Daughters of the Locust War made arrangements for me to document the restoration of Delta Orionis. It was part of the deal for returning all of the furnishings for your quarters. They didn’t tell you?”

Suddenly, everything became clear. Jack knew some kind of deal had been struck, and this was it. It would’ve been nice to know about it beforehand, but at least it was something he could work with.

Even if it was one of the strangest requests he’d ever had.

“I… see. Well, if that’s the deal my father worked out, I’ll honor the terms. Still, we have to set up a few basic ground rules. In addition, there will be subject matter and restrictions that you’ll need to abide by.

“Also, I can only give you permission to record in the public parts of the ship. You’ll have to speak with specific individuals if you want to record anything in someone’s private quarters.”

The woman nodded. “The way this sort of thing usually works is that we record everything we can in public spaces or pre-cleared areas. I’ll respect personal privacy and ask in advance for any private locations. That way, I don’t miss something important because the cameras weren’t on.

“My contract states that I’m legally bound to not release any of the footage without your concurrence or include things that you declare off-limits. You’ll have an opportunity to review the final recordings and make certain that they conform to our agreement before anyone else sees them.”

She grinned. “I used to be a journalist before I started doing this, and there are some similarities between the two occupations. Keep your eyes open, capture everything on video, and pay attention to what’s on the record and what’s off. Basically, keep people’s secrets and always get images from their good side.

“Trust me, Commodore, I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize my payday. We’ll set the ground rules the way you want them. I won’t go into your private quarters without your approval, though I’d like a tour so I can record everything for the Sons and Daughters of the Locust War once it’s set up.”

Jack thought about it and mentally shrugged. A lot of this was out of his control, but so long as he had the final say over what was released, it really didn’t matter what she saw or heard, though he needed to make sure no one spoke about Commodore Nastasi or the attack in front of the cameras.

Or did he?

“So, let me run a hypothetical situation past you, Miss Hooghuis. Or is it Mrs.?”

“Miss, though I prefer Christine. When you’re as busy as I am, dating becomes a challenge. Hit me with your best hypothetical situation. I can take it.”

Jack smiled. “Let’s say that there’s something happening aboard the ship right now that doesn’t precisely fit within Navy regulations. In fact, perhaps something illegal has occurred. What would you do if you recorded information about something like that? Would you have to report to anyone?”

The woman’s expression became serious. “That depends on the kind of illegality we’re talking about. If it’s a violent assault, you bet I’m going to call somebody right on the spot. If it’s something else, I’ll use my judgment.

“If I find out that somebody in your supply department is pilfering pens, I’m not going to say anything about it. Even if they’re swiping something a bit larger, I still probably wouldn’t say anything.”

She put on a professional smile. “I’m here as a neutral observer, and unless something forces me out of that role, I don’t interact with events around me. My drones will record and I’ll talk to people, but I’m not the story. You and your people are.”

He was going to have to tell her at least some of what was going on. If someone came to report on Commodore Nastasi’s condition, she’d find out anyway. And he had other things in progress that were shady at best, so this was the time to test the waters.

“Let’s sample some of this food,” he suggested. “I think we have a lot to discuss, and I’m starving.”

Jack grabbed a tray, loaded his plate, and topped everything off with a cup of coffee. When he sat down, he noticed more of the mess compartment had been cleaned up and was in use.

Actually cleaned, not just swept and left dingy. That was both shocking and impressive. The new cook must’ve dragooned someone into helping get everything into shape. Or maybe Ashford had done that. She seemed more than capable of browbeating others into doing what she wanted.

Jack dug into his food and was astonished at how good it tasted. No. Good didn’t do it justice. It was amazing. Even the coffee tasted better. Was it a different brand, or had somebody cleaned out the machine? Whatever it was, he approved.

“Hmmm,” Christine said as she took a bite of her food. “Navy food is better than I thought it would be.”

He decided not to get into what was going on in the galley.

Over the next fifteen minutes, he explained the condition of the ship and the steps that he was taking to get Hunter back into shape. He followed that up with why he was concerned, and that piqued her interest.

“So let me see if I understand,” she said, using her fork like a pointer to gesture toward him. “This professor—the director of the museum—thinks that the Locusts are going to come back and that this ship is the last line of defense if they do? I’ve got to tell you that from what I’ve seen so far, the news doesn’t fill me with confidence.”

“Me either, which is why we’re working so hard to get Hunter back into shape. JAG is investigating where all the funds that were supposed to pay for this are going, but I still have to come up with creative solutions.

“For example, the supply department aboard headquarters supposedly has a stock of spare parts to help bring the ship back up to a higher level of readiness, but they won’t give them to us. People have been requesting things from them for decades without getting anything.”

He sighed. “That means that I’m going to have to find a way to twist their arms and make them cough up what we need. We’re also going to have extra bodies coming aboard to help with the grunt work.

“That won’t necessarily do a lot for our combat readiness, but it should at least get the ship back under pressure. One step at a time.”

He took a deep breath and committed. “There was also a violent attack at headquarters that injured someone who is now aboard this ship. We’re keeping the news and the person’s presence close to the vest until we get a handle on what happened.

“That’s the main thing that I’m declaring off-limits because it would be explosive if word got back to headquarters.”

Christine’s fork paused halfway to her mouth before she set it back down on her plate. “As a former journalist, that certainly sounds like a story worth pursuing. This might be one of those moments for an off-the-record conversation.

“What that means is that whatever you tell me will be held in confidence, so long as you don’t admit to committing murder or something heinous.”

Jack nodded. “Earlier today, someone attempted to murder Commodore Sara Nastasi—the head of the Judge Advocate General’s office—in her quarters. Due to circumstances that I won’t go into, someone associated with this ship happened to be nearby, helped save her life, and then smuggled her off headquarters because it was too dangerous to leave her there.”

He paused for a moment to study her reaction, but her expression didn’t change.

“She’s recovering in our aid station,” he continued. “I anticipate being able to speak with her later this evening when I finally catch up enough to go see her. I don’t know what she’s going to decide the best response is, but it may mean her staying here for a while and keeping that information to ourselves.

“It may also mean that she decides to go back to headquarters, and everything explodes. I can’t guess at this point which way it’ll go. What would you do with something like that, Christine?”

“Based on everything you’ve told me thus far, it sounds as if this is somehow tied into the embezzlement. Whoever’s getting the money doesn’t want it to stop. Of course, this could be something completely unrelated, but that may not be readily apparent in the beginning.

“As for what I’d do, I’d record everything and keep my mouth shut. It’s not like you attacked Commodore Nastasi or are holding her prisoner. You’ve already said that if she wants to leave, you’d be happy to get her back to headquarters, so I’m not concerned that what you’re doing is illegal. Well, technically, maybe it is, but it’s in pursuit of protecting her life, so you’ll get no argument from me.”

“Then I don’t think that we’re going to have any trouble,” Jack said, relaxing. “You’ve got my permission to record whatever’s going on anywhere except someone’s private quarters, but I’m relying on your absolute and utter discretion. People’s lives could be ruined by what we’re doing here.”

“Understood,” she said with a serious expression. “I’ll activate the cameras. Try not to feel self-conscious. They’re quiet, small, and usually hang back far enough to be missed, so you’ll forget they’re there soon enough.

“They’re mostly autonomous. I might tag one to follow somebody, and it will, but won’t get in the way.”

They finished their meal, talking about inconsequential things and getting to know one another. He was amused—and impressed—by her dream to become a war correspondent.

She said that the idea of being somewhere in the fighting and recording everything to send news reports back home had always been a dream of hers, but circumstances had never worked in her favor.

Of course, fighting inside the Confederation was frowned upon, and the Navy intervened in the most egregious of cases, but there were still instances of governments on a planet fighting, so the opportunity to be a war correspondent wasn’t unheard of.

He was about to say so when he saw the professor walk into the mess hall, spot him, and head over.

“There you are,” he said with a smile. “Bart and I have been working with the equipment, and I’ve made a stunning discovery. The computer core that I’ve been working on is either damaged or locked down in some way, while the one that he has isn’t.

“We moved his core into my testing unit, and I was able to get more responses than I’d ever gotten before. Meanwhile, his equipment failed to get any of the reactions that he expected from my core.”

He beamed at the two of them. “That has the two of us very energized, and we believe that we may be able to start copying data off his core and looking into some of its particular functions in short order.

“That isn’t to say we’ll be able to decipher any of the data, because we have no Rosetta Stone. Nevertheless, this is an important breakthrough in the study of the Locusts.”

“That sounds like excellent news, Professor. We’ll head down there shortly, but first, I think you need to meet Miss Christine Hooghuis. She’s our official videographer. Her presence is part of the deal struck between my father and the Sons and Daughters of the Locust War.”

The professor blinked as she stood and extended her hand, but he shook it firmly. “I’ve never had anyone record me before, so forgive me if I seem a little self-conscious.”

“You’ll barely notice I’m there,” she assured him. “I tend to stay in the background and let my drones do the work. As I told the commodore, everything will be reviewed and approved before anyone other than me sees it, so you don’t have to worry about watching your words. Just be yourself, and we’ll sort this out when the restoration is complete.

“I have to confess that I’m looking forward to seeing what you’ve been doing, Doctor. I’ve done a little research on the Locust War. I picked up a number of reference books to get a handle on what this ship was capable of, but you probably know a lot more about it than I do. If you have an opportunity, I’d love to sit down over dinner and hear what you’ve been up to.”

Jack blinked in surprise. While everything that she’d said had been phrased professionally, there was definitely an undercurrent to her voice that wasn’t precisely cool and impartial. Had she just flirted with the professor?

Well, if she had, it was none of his business. So far as he knew, the professor wasn’t married, and he could figure out his own romantic entanglements without outside interference.

Jack showed Christine exactly how to clean off her plates and put them away for washing, gathered his Marine guards, and gestured for the professor to lead the way to his lab.

He’d only taken a few steps when his comm went off, surprising him. He’d forgotten that he had one.

“Romanoff,” he said as soon as he’d fished it out of his pocket.

“This is McRae. Commodore Nastasi is awake and wants to speak with you. She’s been awake for a few hours and is now nagging me. Come down and get her off my back.”

“I’m on my way,” Jack said with a smile at his curmudgeonly attitude.

Jack killed the connection, pocketed his comm, and gestured for his companions to continue without him. “I’ve heard what you’re up to in enough detail to work with, Professor, and that’s going to have to be good enough for now. Why don’t you give Christine a tour of your lab and explain everything that you’re doing while I handle this?”

“Why is Commodore Nastasi aboard Hunter, and why was she asleep?” Prescott asked.

Jack grinned. “I’ll let our new friend give you the short version because I don’t have time to explain. I’ll see you again soon, I’m sure.”

“I’m sending one of my drones along with you,” Christine said. “Remember that you need to document this in case things go bad.”

Jack still wasn’t so sure, but he’d roll with it. As long as he had a chance to review the recordings, he could live with it.

With a nod, he strode out of the mess hall and toward the aid station. It was time to find out who had attacked Nastasi and how much trouble they were really in.

22

Jack was pleased to see that Commodore Nastasi was awake and alert when he arrived at the aid station and made his way past the two crewmen on guard duty. She was still very pale, but her eyes were open and seemed sharp as she focused on him. McRae was standing beside the bed and did not look at all pleased.

Somehow, Jack suspected that was his default expression.

“Keep it short,” the medic ordered brusquely. “I’ll step out to give you some privacy, but no more than ten minutes. She needs to rest.”

Without waiting for Jack to respond, he exited, leaving the flag officers alone.

Jack grabbed one of the few chairs in the room and sat next to the bed. “I’m glad to see you’re doing so well, considering how you looked when you arrived. I don’t want to stress you out, but I need to know who attacked you and what the circumstances were.”

She shook her head slightly. “First, how did I get to your ship? The last thing I remember was being in my quarters. Frankly, I didn’t expect to wake up, much less to have left headquarters entirely.”

“That story would take longer than the time we’ve been allowed, so it’s going to have to wait,” Jack said with a low chuckle. “You let someone into your quarters, and they stabbed you. Who was it?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Are you investigating crimes now? That seems a little bit outside your wheelhouse, Commodore Romanoff.”

Jack tried not to grind his teeth. She was making this more complicated than it needed to be.

“If it were up to me, you wouldn’t have been attacked at all, much less ended up on my ship. But, whoever tried to kill you is busy searching headquarters for you. If they decide to turn their attention to my ship, there’s very little that I can do to stop them.

“I can’t very well protect you if I don’t have more details. I suppose we could always put in a call to headquarters and ask for a Marine escort to take you back so you could handle this yourself.”

She grimaced and turned her head away from him. “That’s probably a bad idea. I’m still trying to get my head around everything, and it’s not easy. One doesn’t expect to be betrayed by someone that close.

“It was my aide, Zach Selter. He showed up at my quarters this morning just as I was getting ready to go to the office. He told me that he didn’t think investigating the embezzlement was something we should get involved with.

“When I told him it was our duty and we would do it, he pulled out a knife and stabbed me. I never even saw it coming. He’s worked with me for years, and I never would have imagined he could do something like that.”

Jack reached out, took her hand in his, and squeezed it gently. “Nothing I can say will make that easier to deal with, but you’re safe now. I’ve got someone standing guard outside, and no one aboard headquarters has any idea you’re here. Or that you even survived.

“Someone working for me needed to talk to you and found you in your quarters. She got you out of there before your aide could come back to finish the job. So far as Selter knows, you got up and staggered off. I’d imagine he suspects you’ve crawled off somewhere and died. Was he alone?”

“I don’t think so,” she said grimly. “I had a security detail, and they disappeared. If they’d been there, they’d have stopped Zach. That means that someone either ordered them off their post, or they did so because they were involved. If I show up in this condition, there’s every possibility that they’ll just finish the job.

“Whatever this conspiracy is, it goes a lot deeper than I initially suspected. I didn’t expect them to have their tentacles so deep into the Navy. Or into my department.”

She shook her head slightly. “How could they turn Zach against me like that? Before today, I’d have sworn that there was no violence in him, and yet he almost killed me. Was he always one of them, or did they offer him so much money that he couldn’t resist? If that’s the case, then anyone could be working for them, and that terrifies me.

“I suppose you could be working for them, but that seems a little convoluted since you asked me to investigate this whole thing in the first place. It’s hard to think straight.”

Jack really felt for her. This assault had turned her entire world upside down. He had no idea how the conspiracy worked or how they’d unravel it, but he supposed all they could do right now was focus on the short term. It was a sideshow that he absolutely didn’t have time for, but it wasn’t as if he could opt out of it.

“Our medic says you’re going to recover, but it’s probably going to be a couple of weeks before you’re back on your feet. He wants to keep you here for a couple of days so that he can make sure everything is okay. After that, I’ll move you into one of the spare rooms in the admiral’s suite so you can have around-the-clock protection.”

“That’s probably for the best,” she admitted. “When you hear more about what happened, I want to know. I need to know.”

Jack stood, releasing her hand. “I’ll keep you fully briefed, but for right now, you need to focus on recovering. I’ll come back tomorrow and talk for a little bit longer. If I know anything by then, I’ll pass it along.”

“Thank you. For everything.”

Jack smiled at her and then exited the aid station. The medic was standing outside with his arms crossed over his chest, scowling at the door. He looked mildly surprised when Jack walked out before the deadline.

“I was sure that I was going to have to chase you out,” McRae grumbled. “Thank you for respecting my boundaries.”

“I told her I’d come back tomorrow and that we’d talk a little bit longer. I don’t intend to tire her out, but she wants to know what’s going on.”

The medic nodded. “You’ll be able to stay longer tomorrow, so long as you don’t get her too worked up. She’s recovering well, but she was gravely injured. Keep that in mind.”

And with that, the medic went back into the aid station.

Jack was about to start for the professor’s lab when his comm unit went off. He pulled out of his pocket and answered the call.

“Romanoff.”

“This is Able Spacer Fontana, sir. There’s a ship closing with us that indicates they’re here to pick something up. I asked what, and they said that you’d know what it was about and that they didn’t want to say anything over an open communications channel.”

Jack obviously had too many irons in the fire because he didn’t know which shady deal this was part of.

“What kind of ship is it?” he asked.

“I’m not familiar with the class, sir. It’s fairly big and has large cargo doors.”

“Ask them who their point of contact aboard Hunter is.”

At this point, he suspected that this was the recovery ship that Klein had mentioned as a possibility. He was supposed to have done an inventory of small craft before the move started, but maybe it had taken less time than Jack had expected.

A few seconds later, the able spacer was back on his channel. “They say that they’re here because of Richard Klein.”

“Which small craft bay do they intend to interface with?”

“The one that’s in operation, sir. Should I tell them they can approach?”

“That’s fine, Able Spacer. Good work. Romanoff out.”

With the Marines at his heels, Jack headed for the small craft bay. When he entered, he found Klein and a dozen mechanics and crewmen.

“It sounds like you found enough small craft for what you needed,” Jack said as he stepped up beside Klein. “The recovery ship you spoke about is here, which you probably also knew. I suppose they’re going to stay just outside the main hatch while you move the ones you’ve selected manually?”

The mechanic nodded. “We looked in the other small craft bays, and they’re in pretty much the same condition as this one, only they don’t have atmosphere. There’s a mixture of cutters and pinnaces in all of them, except for the one attached to the Marine annex. That one is filled with pinnaces.

“I’m not exactly sure why there are so many extra pinnaces, but getting rid of eight of them and four cutters won’t cause you any problems. Besides, since you’re going to have a lot of traffic soon, we need to clear out some space in here for them to land and let people off.”

Jack nodded. That was an excellent point. “How are you going to handle this?”

“The recovery ship can carry four small craft at a time. That means three trips down to Faust. We’ll get the process started right now while it’s third shift aboard headquarters. We should be done before the morning watch comes on duty.

“The recovery ship is using the asteroid to mostly block the view from headquarters, so I hope that keeps their curiosity to a minimum. Honestly, they don’t really have any reason to interfere with what’s going on over here because they think the ship is a museum, and the recovery ship could be bringing up tourists, right?”

Jack certainly hoped things worked out that way, but he wasn’t going to count on it. Well, if they caught wind of what he was up to, he actually had the authority to do it, even though there’d be a lot of shouting and finger-pointing.

“I thought Petty Officer Hutton was going to be helping you with this,” Jack said. “Where is he?”

Klein shrugged. “He left with your steward and his wife to do something.”

Tina Chen had been going back to headquarters, and it sounded as if she’d taken her husband and Hutton with her. If she was just looking into what was happening in the aftermath of the attack on Commodore Nastasi, then there was no need for the others to be there.

On the other hand, if she’d decided to probe the security arrangements at the supply depot, then there was every reason to have them with her.

He wished they’d cleared this with him before they’d left, but it was too late now. Once again, he’d just have to hope for the best.

“Well, I’ll leave you to what you’re doing,” Jack said. “Try to keep everything low key and let me know if there are any problems. If I don’t hear anything from you by breakfast, I’m going to assume that the transfer went smoothly.”

That would pretty much be a first. Nothing on this ship went right the first time.

So, of course, that’s when his comm went off again. With a sigh, he pulled it out and answered.

“Romanoff.”

“Sir, this is Able Spacer Fontana again. We’ve got a cutter requesting permission to board. It came up from Faust and isn’t Navy. The pilot said his name is Turner.”

That was the name of the former Marine that Dubsky indicated might be willing to provide a short term boost to the Marine presence.

“You can let him in, Fontana. Thank you.”

Almost immediately, the hatches began sliding open, and a battered-looking civilian cutter flew into the bay. It set neatly down in one of the available spaces, and Jack started toward it.

Just as he reached it, the hatch opened, and an older man came out.

He was half a head taller than Jack and burly. His hair was almost entirely white, and he had a jagged scar down the left side of his head from his ear to his neck.

“You must be Romanoff,” he said in a deep voice, extending his hand. “Mac Turner. I understand you’re looking for some extra hands to handle security tasks. I’ve spoken with your father, but I wasn’t going to commit until I spoke with you.

“I’m glad I didn’t because you look like an actor straight out of an old video about some war.”

Jack shook his hand with a sheepish smile. “You heard right. The uniform is a long story. I’ve got one Marine officer and four enlisted Marines right now. There’s a lot going on, and that’s not enough to maintain security over what we’re doing, much less deal with any trouble.”

Turner raised an eyebrow. “Are you expecting trouble?”

“Yes. Somebody’s been diverting a lot of money that was supposed to go to the maintenance of this ship and others like it. I’m digging into that, and I expect they’re going to poke back at me.”

“Violently?”

Jack considered how much he should say but settled for nodding. “Probably.”

The man scratched at his chin. “This is one of the old battleships that fought in the Locust War? She got chewed up pretty good. What kind of maintenance are you supposed to be doing to her, if you don’t mind my asking?”

“Rather than talking next to your cutter, why don’t we head back to my quarters? I wish I could dig up something suitable to drink, but I’m still settling in.”

The man grinned and produced a flat bottle of whiskey from his back pocket. “Your father said you’d probably say something like that.”

Jack should probably be irritated at his father, but it was the truth. He wasn’t set up to receive guests. He imagined David Chen would see to that in short order, but things were still in flux, so he’d have to make do.

“I appreciate it. We’ll go this way.”

He led Turner down the main corridor, and he looked around curiously as they walked. “I served on a number of cruisers over the years but never anything close to this large. Honestly, it’s hard to believe this huge hunk of rock was ever mobile.”

“And the goal is to make her mobile again, as well as able to fight.”

Turner shook his head and smiled wryly. “This ship has been through some hellacious fights. I can’t imagine that the cruisers we have these days could stand up to that. I understand that they’re supposed to have an unbeatable technological edge, but my eyes make me question that.”

“I’ve been worrying about it, too,” Jack admitted. “That’s one of the reasons why getting Hunter back into fighting shape is so important. The Navy is taking a gamble with their new technology, but if they’re wrong, the consequences are unthinkable.”

Turner looked at him as they walked. “Do you think the Locusts are coming back? It’s been two hundred years.”

“I don’t know, but you plan for the worst and hope for the best. I’d much rather have a battleship in fighting order and not need it.”

“That’s a sentiment I can get behind.”

When they arrived at Jack’s quarters, his Marine guards—the ones tailing him—insisted on being inside during the meeting. Not wanting to start a fight that he suspected he’d lose, Jack acquiesced to save face.

He stopped in the small galley inside his suite and found a couple of shot glasses in one of the cabinets. He still didn’t trust the water, but these were easily cleanable with a handy piece of cloth. Perhaps not the most sanitary method, but the alcohol would kill anything the rag missed.

They settled into his sitting room, and Turner poured them both a little of the dark liquid. The Marines planted themselves against the walls.

Jack sampled his drink and found the whiskey to his liking. “So, what do you need to know before you decide if you’ll take the job?”

“I’ve already heard a little bit of what I wanted to hear. You’re concerned about the Locusts and are trying to get this ship back into fighting shape. Frankly, I’m not sure how easy that’s going to be.

“The other thing I want to know about is the danger. I’ll keep everything confidential, but I need to know exactly what I’m asking my friends to get involved in if we accept this job.”

Jack tried to figure out a way of telling him the story without mentioning Nastasi but couldn’t. He’d have to trust that the man would keep it to himself. If he didn’t, well, Jack would deal with it. They really needed the support.

“Someone has been embezzling the money meant to maintain the battleship division for at least a hundred and fifty years,” Jack said slowly. “I only found out when I assumed command and reported it to the Judge Advocate General’s office. Earlier today, someone tried to murder their head, Commodore Nastasi.”

Turner’s hand paused momentarily, and then he finished taking a sip of his whiskey before setting his glass down on the table. “That’s more direct than I’d have expected this situation to turn. If someone had done that, shouldn’t word have gotten out by now? That kind of thing would be all over the news.”

“Let’s just say that I had an asset in place that got the commodore out safely. We’re keeping news of her survival to ourselves, and I have no idea what they’re doing over there.

“Commodore Nastasi will probably be here until she recovers, but I expect someone will try to finish what they started if they guess where she’s at. It wouldn’t surprise me if I was a target as well. We’re talking about a lot of money. Enough to maintain a dozen battleships for a century and a half.

“We’re going to have a lot of new hands coming aboard in the next week. I’m estimating something like four thousand people at the peak of the surge, and the few Marines we have aren’t going to protect everyone if the bad guys slip in with them. I realize that makes this a much more dangerous assignment than you were probably expecting, but I hope to convince you that our cause is worthy.”

Turner pursed his lips. “Believe it or not, that’s actually a selling point. If this was going to be standing around with our thumbs up our butts, I’d have probably said no. My friends and I have been bored, and a little bit of excitement sounds like just what we need.”

He took a sip of his liquor. “We’ll be able to supplement the Marines you’ve got aboard and provide a reaction force if need be. We won’t have all our usual equipment, but your father said he could probably get us something to work with.

“Considering that he used to be the Grand Admiral of the Confederation Navy and is a respected politician on Faust, I’m not inclined to doubt him.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Jack said, meaning every word. “How many people are we talking about, and what kind of skills?”

“I’ll have to run everything past my people to get a final head count, though I’ll be keeping the news about Commodore Nastasi to myself. With the added spice of the job, I suspect that I can get at least three dozen people. Maybe more if I can spin it just right.”

That was a lot fewer than Jack had hoped for, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

Some of his thoughts must’ve shown on his face because Turner’s smile widened a little bit. “You’d hoped for more. Even though we’re retired—some for decades—my people have a lot more experience at this kind of work than your average Marine. We can more than pull our weight.”

Jack considered the man for a moment. “Maybe I’m missing something, but I thought you were retired Marines.”

“It sounds like Dubsky didn’t tell you everything,” Turner said with a toothy grin. “My organization is made up of retired Marine force recon personnel.”

That shocked Jack a little. Marine force recon were special operators. Highly trained, deadly warriors. If he was getting several dozen of those aboard—even retired—he’d be a lot less worried about any attacks that came his way.

“That does make a difference,” Jack admitted. “I’ll take any of your people you can convince to come along. The surge of extra hands will last for somewhere between two and four weeks, but I’d imagine that my troubles aren’t going to go away anytime soon.”

Turner filled the shot glasses and raised his in salute. “May our enemies never see us coming then, Commodore.”

That was a sentiment Jack could get behind. He raised his glass, tapped the other man’s, and tossed the whiskey back. Things were finally starting to move in a direction that he liked. If only he could keep up the momentum.

23

Klein wasn’t aboard when Jack got up the next morning, but he’d left a message. Everything had gone smoothly and he was now down on Faust, ready to start the purchase process.

He anticipated that it would take at least a day—and possibly two or three—to get the first load together. Subsequent loads would be faster as their stockpile of ready-to-ship parts grew. They’d use the recovery ship to get the parts to Hunter once they were packed for shipping.

Jack had no idea if he would be able to prioritize the parts they needed for the life-support systems, but at least something was happening. Based on the rough calculations that Klein had given him, the sale of the small craft would likely get them far more parts than they could initially use, but he’d take them cheerfully.

To Jack’s surprise, moving the small craft off the ship hadn’t caught anyone’s attention aboard headquarters. Well, at least nobody had interfered with the process or mentioned it after the fact. As far as he was concerned, that was an unvarnished win.

The other thing waiting for him in the morning was breakfast.

Once he’d finished dressing, Jack found that David Chen—or more likely the new chef—had prepared a selection of potential food choices that were waiting in the small dining room off his sitting room.

Chen gestured for Jack to take a seat and poured him some coffee before getting a cup for himself and sitting across the table. “It’s not normal for a steward to dine with his principal as I understand it, but I do have a report that you’ll want to hear. And I’m not exactly just a steward.”

“I don’t mind if you join me for breakfast,” Jack said before he took his first sip of coffee. “If I need to be alone, I’ll let you know, but otherwise, feel free.”

Chen took him at his word and gathered some food on a second plate for himself. The two of them dug in, and Jack was once again impressed with the taste and quality.

“Did the new cook prepare this? Is he someone that my father sent up?”

Chen shook his head after sipping his coffee. “Not precisely. I hired him from the funds that your father allocated me. He’ll be working in our galley once it’s functional again, but since he has skills that none of these other poor benighted souls have, I figured that he could at least utilize part of his time to improve the quality of food for everyone else.

“It cost a little more for him to agree to that, but I think the boost in morale will more than make up for it.”

Jack nodded his agreement. Good food would go a long way toward making the crew feel better about their situation. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to help once they were flooded with people.

“When the folks from the Naval Academy—and potentially the Marine Academy—come up, he’s going to be overwhelmed. What do we do about that?”

“My assumption is that they’ll bring their own cooking staff since they’re bringing their own supplies,” Chen said. “I should probably open a channel to them and verify that before someone surprises us. People can be amazingly shortsighted on occasion.

“We need to make cleaning the other mess halls a priority, but that’s what the new hands are for. I’ll send my team to look at the galleys with pressure when they finish here. Or maybe we should put your personal galley on hold while they see what they need to get the mess halls up and running.”

He smiled slightly. “Now, in other matters, you might have noticed that I went to headquarters with my wife yesterday. We took Petty Officer Hutton with us because she wanted to probe the supply department’s security precautions during the overnight shift. Sadly, the situation seems to be just as daunting as Hutton said.

“The two of them believe they can compromise the security and information systems, but they’re concerned about the possibility of being detected. They didn’t do anything last night that would have aroused anyone’s suspicions, but when they try to gain physical access, that will likely change.”

“How do they hope to overcome that?” Jack asked. He took a bite of his eggs. Damn, they were soft and tasty.

“They’re thinking of using some kind of distraction. Penetrating security is almost certain to set off an alarm. Without something going on to keep the supply people distracted, it’s likely that the intrusion won’t go unnoted.”

Jack considered that. “Do they have a particular entrance in mind?”

“They have a few likely possibilities. One of the problems is that those most distant from where personnel are likely to be have more stringent security protocols. I suppose they think that any penetration where the supply personnel are located is less likely.”

“And once they get in, how much time will they need?”

“Petty Officer Hutton assures us that they won’t have changed their procedures much since his departure. Apparently, they believe that their information security is excellent.

“If the two of them can gain access to the building and get into the offices, he believes that they can retrieve the information they need in short order, as long as my wife can compromise the login process.”

Chen grinned. “And I have no doubt that she is more than capable of getting into their systems far more rapidly than they’d have ever considered possible, so don’t worry about her.”

“And what about Commodore Nastasi? What’s the news aboard headquarters?”

“The news is that there is no news. It seems that she’s had a family emergency and has taken leave to deal with it. Her deputy is overseeing the Judge Advocate General’s office until her return, which they don’t expect for a minimum of three weeks.

“There’s no hint they believe foul play might have occurred. We weren’t able to find any information about her security detail or its status. That’s not unusual, but we didn’t want to ask questions that would arouse suspicion.”

Jack supposed that was good news. In all likelihood, the attackers were still scouring the station, trying to find her body. When they eventually failed to locate it, they’d start looking elsewhere, but the trail would be cold.

At least, that’s what he hoped.

He continued to eat in silence, thinking about the supply situation. The germs of an idea were percolating in his head, but it really depended on how good Tina Chen was.

“Could your wife get the information that we need if she’s doing it by herself? I think I can arrange a suitable distraction, but I’d need Hutton to help me.”

Chen considered that for a few moments before nodding. “I believe she could. Your plan is to claim the parts you’re owed and spar with them loudly enough to distract from the fact that someone else has broken into their building and is pilfering their critical files?

“I like it. It has the benefit of simplicity and plausibility. They’ll take great pleasure in stalling and denying you everything that they can, but they can’t just throw you out. You are a flag officer, after all.”

That last part was accompanied by a smile that showed the man’s white teeth. Humor, but with a bite. He liked it.

“If my wife can act expeditiously enough, she should be able to get the files to your comm while you’re still engaged in your shouting match. If you then present that as your evidence, claiming that Petty Officer Hutton found and retained a copy of the files, they aren’t exactly going to be able to call you liars even if they don’t believe that’s what happened.

“The plan is well thought out. I suppose that’s why you’re a combat commander. Did you think of this as a naval engagement?”

Jack hadn’t intentionally done so, but he supposed there was a loose correlation. “Sort of. Where are your wife and Hutton now?”

“Petty Officer Hutton is somewhere aboard Hunter, and my wife is still aboard headquarters. She checked herself into a hotel and is using it as a base of operations to monitor the situation. She’s using a false name, but that’s not going to raise any flags. The hotel believes that she’s staging an assignation.”

That made Jack’s eyebrows shoot up. “Does your wife do that often?”

Chen laughed. “Stage false assignations? Perhaps. My wife and I are quite devoted to one another, so I have no doubts about her fidelity.”

He seemed to be about to say something else when there was a loud crash outside Jack’s suite. Concerned, the two men rose and went out into the large dining room to discover that the repairmen were busy removing the ruined equipment from the galley under the watchful eyes of a Marine guard.

A pair of crates sat nearby, implying that they were replacing the equipment with newer, functional models.

Chen turned to Jack and pulled out his comm. “Let me give you her contact information, and you can discuss the plan with her and Petty Officer Hutton while I deal with this. When I’ve stabilized this situation, I’ll see about adding inspections of the disused galleys to the work order.”

After getting Tina Chen’s contact information, Jack retreated to the smaller dining room and finished his breakfast. Even though he probably wasn’t supposed to, he made sure everything was tidy and ready to be picked up once Chen got around to it.

He called Hutton and arranged to meet him in the small craft bay. It was probably best to execute the plan as soon as possible because they needed those parts flowing right away.

One thing he couldn’t do was take his Marine guards with him. Rather than argue with them, he called Dubsky.

His opening gambit was that he didn’t want to show potential enemies that they’d increased their readiness level. She remained unconvinced, so he added that her Marines might need to put their fingers in their ears and close their eyes to avoid seeing something illegal if they went to headquarters.

At that point, she gave in and reluctantly ordered them to remain aboard Hunter.

That done, Jack found Hutton and explained what he had in mind.

Hutton grinned. “Now that’s going to be a lot of fun. I know the perfect entrance for us to use. It’s close enough to the main entrance for us to get through if we’re cool customers.”

“Since you used to work in logistics, they’re not going to believe we used the wrong entrance by accident,” Jack said. “How do we handle that?”

“We just don’t answer their questions. Once you get on a roll, they’re going to have bigger fish to fry.”

Jack wasn’t so sure. It sounded sloppy, and that could trip them up. Maybe Tina would have a better idea about how they could bypass security and get in. Or maybe she could find a way to get in by herself while they went through the front door. Honestly, that would be better.

“Let’s go see what she has to say,” Jack said and gestured toward their cutter.

They flew to headquarters and got aboard without any fuss. Well, other than everyone staring at their uniforms.

Jack wondered if word would get to LaChasse. If so, she might well have them picked up. That would be inconvenient.

The best answer for that was to get out of sight as quickly as possible. Jack headed for the hotel where Tina Chen was staying. He used his comm to give her a call as they walked, and she answered right away.

“Yes?”

“This is Romanoff. We’re aboard headquarters and have a plan we’d like to run past you. It’s about getting into that area we were talking about and getting the things we need.”

“I just finished talking with David about that, and I think you have a grand idea. Why don’t I meet you outside the hotel, and we can put it into action.”

That was more direct than Jack had expected, but he agreed and disconnected the call. Fifteen minutes later, she walked out of the hotel just as they arrived.

To his surprise, she was wearing a regular Navy uniform with supply department patches. It identified her as a petty officer, and her name tag read Martin.

“Why, Petty Officer Martin,” Jack said dryly as he returned her very credible salute. “What a surprise, seeing you here.”

She grinned at him toothily as they started walking. “I picked this up last night, and it’s a good thing that I did. If we’re about to break the law, we might as well really break the law, don’t you think? Now, tell me the plan?”

“That really depends on how fast you can get into the building. If we have to, we can force our way through one of the smaller entrances, but I’d prefer to go through the front door and make a huge scene to distract everyone. You’d be surprised how much attention an angry flag officer can draw.”

“I’ll bet. Actually, I think we can all go through the front door. If the two of you are in the lead, then no one will be looking at me after the shouting starts. If I time my entrance correctly, I’m going to be one more person reporting for duty.”

“And you think that’s going to work?” Jack asked with one raised eyebrow.

“If it doesn’t, we’ll have to back out and try again later. But I’d much rather avoid compromising the building’s security because that’s more likely to be noticed. Trust me when I say I have a lot of experience at convincing people that I belong in places I have absolutely no business being in. It’s always possible that there will be something that trips me up, but preparation and skill will go a long way to covering for bad luck.”

“If you think this will work, I’m more than happy to give it a try,” Jack said. “I’m really annoyed with these people, and I want to shout at somebody. They’ll do whatever they can to get us out the door, but they can’t exactly demand that I leave, so let’s do this.”

He set off at a determined pace and made sure that he had an appropriate glower on his face. Joby directed him to the correct corridor, and he marched through the main entrance with the petty officer on his heels. Tina dropped back as planned. If everything worked out, she could exfiltrate once she’d done her part and just walk away. No one would ever question her presence.

Of course, if someone did, that would be interesting too. Any check of the Navy personnel files would show that she wasn’t in the Navy at all. That would start a whole new chain of events, so he’d prefer that no one paid her any mind.

The main entrance to the supply depot had a large foyer with half a dozen enlisted personnel behind a long counter. Half of them were busy dealing with requests for parts either by delivering said parts or denying the request. The ones denying the requests seemed to take an unholy joy from it.

Smug bastards.

He mentally prepared and stomped up to the nearest clerk. The enlisted woman on the other side of the counter frowned at him, no doubt thrown off by his uniform.

“Can I help you… sir?”

“I want to speak to your supervisor,” Jack said. “My ship has been requesting parts for quite some time, and it’s become clear to me that there’s some kind of obstruction taking place. That ends now. Summon your senior officer and tell him that Commodore Romanoff wants to speak with them.”

She shook her head. “Lieutenant Chambers is away on business and won’t be back until tomorrow, sir. Chief Petty Officer Skversky is available, but I’m not sure I should call him. Are you even a Navy officer? What’s with the getup?”

He was about to respond when a man spoke from behind him. Not Petty Officer Hutton but someone else.

“Commodore Romanoff is indeed a Navy officer, Able Spacer. You should summon CPO Skversky at once. It never pays to keep an annoyed flag officer waiting. I should know.”

Jack turned and found Lieutenant Zach Selter—the man who’d tried to murder Commodore Nastasi—standing behind him, smiling brightly.

24

Jack frowned at the man, trying to hide his consternation. “Lieutenant Selter, isn’t it? What brings the Judge Advocate General’s office to the supply depot?”

“The same thing that brought you, I’d imagine, Commodore Romanoff,” the young would-be killer said with a smile. “Commodore Nastasi tasked me with looking into the problems you’re having requisitioning the supplies.

“The paperwork your people provided painted a troubling picture that needed investigation. I’m assuming you’re here to get the same answers that I am, so perhaps we can work together to find out what’s really going on.”

Well, this certainly threw a wrench into Jack’s plan because he wasn’t going to intimidate the supply people using their cooked books while someone from the Judge Advocate General’s office was looking on.

And no matter what Jack said, Selter was probably here to see if he knew anything about Nastasi. Somehow, word of his arrival aboard headquarters had gotten to the man.

Even though he looked calm and collected, he had to have been panicking ever since he lost his boss’s body. Best to reassure him on that front as quickly as possible and then modify his plans for the supply depot. But before he could do that, he had to start the ball rolling with the supply clerk.

“I’m sure that your help will smooth matters considerably, Lieutenant, and it’s greatly appreciated,” Jack said. He turned back toward the able spacer behind the counter. “Get CPO Skversky.”

She nodded once and trotted through the door into the corridor behind the counter. Jack was shocked to see Tina Chen follow her through, not earning even a glance from anyone else behind the counter.

It seemed that all eyes really were on him, and that meant he needed to keep providing the cover she needed.

“If you would, Lieutenant Selter, I’d appreciate it if you’d pass my thanks to Commodore Nastasi,” Jack said. “I’ll be frank, I honestly didn’t expect to get any help with this matter. It’s been going on for so long that I figured I’d have to come over here and pound the counter to see if I could shake anything loose. I expected my complaint to JAG to be filed away and investigated at leisure, if at all.”

The lieutenant’s face took on a hint of sadness before he responded. “It’s always disheartening to see someone grow cynical about the Navy. Things shouldn’t be this hard, Commodore. I’m sure some kind of compromise can be made once the facts are laid out. Though I’ll admit that the supply department seems to have been exceptionally obstinate in your case. Let’s see if we can correct that.

“Did you have an opportunity to speak with Commodore Nastasi after we met with Vice Admiral LaChasse? If you’ve given her any additional information, that would be very helpful.”

Jack allowed himself a snort of amusement. “Forgive me, Lieutenant, but the admiral is undoubtedly still furious with me, and I’d rather not give her another opportunity to vent. This is my first trip to headquarters since then.

“Also, as I said earlier, I didn’t expect to see any action out of JAG in the short term, so no, I haven’t spoken with her at all since then. Why? Do you think it would be helpful if I stopped by the commodore’s office before we head back to Delta Orionis? If so, I’d be happy to.”

The temptation had been strong to ask if anything was wrong, but that would have raised a red flag. It was best to act as if everything was completely normal.

He smiled and shook his head. “I’m afraid that the commodore had a family emergency and will be gone for at least three weeks dealing with it. Not on Faust, but somewhere else. Captain Blunt—her second in command—has his hands full, so it would be best to interface with me at this point.”

Before Jack could respond, a hirsute, portly man wearing the insignia of a chief petty officer hurried through the door behind the counter. His irritated expression almost made Jack smile. Ah, the joys of raining on someone else’s parade.

“Commodore Romanoff?” he asked, looking at Jack. “I understand that you believe there’s some kind of problem. How can I assist you today?”

Jack narrowed his eyes, forgetting Selter for the moment. “You can assist me by fulfilling the supply requests for my ship and personnel, Chief Petty Officer Skversky. Those would be the ones that your department has routinely denied for Delta Orionis over at least the last few decades. I haven’t looked, but it might’ve been going on for the last two centuries for all I know. That’s how you can help me.”

“No ship by that name on our active duty roster, sir. If you’re talking about the museum, maybe you should speak to its director to find out where you should be getting your supplies.”

“If you’ll check your records, you’ll see that Delta Orionis is listed as mothballed and that you have a large inventory of parts specifically made for her. Tell me this, CPO, why would you have those parts if they were never meant to be supplied?”

The CPO narrowed his eyes, then went to the computer and typed rapidly on the keyboard. “No parts for Delta Orionis in my system, sir. Maybe you don’t understand the situation as well as you think.”

Smarmy jerk.

“Oh, I understand the situation perfectly well,” Jack said through gritted teeth, casting a sidelong glance at Hutton. Hutton had his comm out and was scanning something. He smiled.

“I’m afraid that that’s not what I’m seeing,” the petty officer said. “You’ve got thousands of parts earmarked for Delta Orionis. Would you like me to give you some part numbers and maybe locations in the warehouse?”

“No way you have access to our system, Hutton. After your court-martial and transfer, I made sure that all of your access was terminated. Don’t try to bluff your way through me because it ain’t gonna work.”

“This is turning out to be a lot more interesting than I’d expected,” Selter said in a low voice just behind Jack’s left shoulder. “I wonder how much of this I should be hearing.”

The area between Jack’s shoulder blades itched. This man had literally stabbed someone, so it wasn’t an unreasonable reaction.

“As you saw in the records my people gave the commodore, Petty Officer Hutton keeps lots of things that he might need,” Jack said back in a low voice. “Kind of a packrat, really.”

He raised his voice. “So, tell me, CPO, if my ship isn’t supposed to be supplied from this depot, why does my man have an old inventory sheet that tells exactly where my parts are? There’s an easy way to find out if his information is accurate. Why don’t we take a little stroll?”

Skversky gulped. “That’s not how it works, sir. You asked for parts, and I’ve given you my answer. We’re done.”

“Actually, you’re not,” Selter said and stepped forward. “Lieutenant Selter, Judge Advocate General’s office. We’re investigating this issue, and I’m here to see if you have parts and supplies for Commodore Romanoff and his people. I’m going to take a look at your system. At the very least, you’re supposed to be supplying them with all of their food and other basic needs. All of the personnel assigned to that ship are active duty Navy.”

“I know nothing about that, sir. Feel free to take a look at my inventory. You won’t find anything allocated to that hunk of rock.”

“Don’t mind if I do,” the JAG officer said. He walked around behind the counter. “Please bring up a listing of all parts and supplies assigned to Delta Orionis.”

With a hint of a smirk, the chief petty officer tapped on the keyboard and then stepped back with a gesture for Selter to look. While the officer’s eyes were on the screen, Skversky shot a look of pure disgust at Hutton and then sneered.

Seriously, he actually sneered.

After a few moments, Selter raised an eyebrow. “I don’t see anything listed as being for Delta Orionis, Commodore Romanoff. Perhaps if you’d have Petty Officer Hutton provide me with information about something he thinks is here for your ship, we could look it up and see what the system says.”

Before Skversky could try to shut him down, Hutton read off a series of letters and numbers. Painstakingly, the lieutenant typed the information in.

“That comes up as fiber-optic cabling,” Selter said after a few moments. “It’s generic and not assigned as being specifically for your ship.”

Hutton’s smile turned predatory. “That might be what the computer says, sir, but I’ll bet you if you lay eyes on that particular bin, you’re going to find that it’s actually life-support hardware specifically designed for a Hunter-class battleship.” He then rattled off the location code for the part.

“The computer says what’s there, and there’s no need to check anything,” Skversky said sternly. “I can’t authorize non-supply personnel going into the warehouses. It’s a safety issue and violates regulations.”

“If you check the wording of the regulation, it says unescorted,” Hutton said with a smirk. “How else would you have inspections by outside personnel? Do you think everybody’s just gonna trust your word that things are hunky-dory, Skversky?”

The man looked like he was ready to lash out, but Jack inserted himself into the conversation. “I think we’d all like to see what’s in that particular bin, Chief Petty Officer. Please escort us to see if you have my parts.”

Skversky was visibly perspiring now and looked at Selter, who nodded. With a sigh, the chief petty officer gestured for them to come behind the counter. As Jack did, Tina Chen came through the door behind the CPO and adroitly stepped around him so that he never saw her.

It took all of Jack’s willpower not to give her more than a glance as she sauntered away. No one else even gave her a second glance.

Hell, no one even looked at her once. She was really good at this.

Skversky led them into the maze of warehouses and had to be corrected by Hutton for trying to take them into the wrong place. Jack had no idea what that particular warehouse held, but it wouldn’t have been parts for Hunter.

Instead, Hutton led them to a warehouse entrance with the correct alphanumeric code above the door. He reminded Lieutenant Selter of the part’s location information and how the first section matched what they saw over the door.

Even though he’d heard the location information, Jack didn’t remember it. Selter nodded as if he did, and that might even be true. Some people had great memories.

It took Skversky two tries to enter the correct code into the hatch before it allowed them entrance. They stepped into a tall, broad, deep compartment filled with shelving units and crates.

“See how the rows have numbers and letters that match the next segment of the part location?” Hutton asked. “We’ll go down aisle sixteen, and the bin is going to be on our right. There’ll be a label above it with the remainder of the part number. Let’s see if we’ve got ourselves some fiber-optic cable, shall we?”

They walked down the long aisle, and Hutton stopped them, gesturing toward a large bin filled with hand-sized boxes.

“Well now,” Hutton said with a grin. “That sure doesn’t look like fiber-optic cable to me. Shall we take a look at one of the boxes?”

He picked up a box up and flipped it over, revealing a small label. It read “life-support sensor, Hunter-class battleship.”

“I think that’s pretty clear, don’t you, Lieutenant?” Hutton asked with a triumphant grin. “It’s a life-support sensor that tells if the air is going bad or the pressure is dropping, and the end of the description clearly says it’s for a Hunter-class battleship. There’s only one of those around here, right?

“But let’s assume that this is a fluke. Why don’t you turn around, grab something from the other side of the aisle, and see what it says?”

With a look of genuine interest on his face, Selter took half a dozen steps farther up the aisle and selected a random box significantly larger than the one they’d just looked at off of a shelf on the other side of the aisle. He examined the label, then raised an eyebrow when he looked at Skversky.

“Water purification unit, Hunter-class battleship. I have to say that things aren’t looking good for the supply department, Chief Petty Officer Skversky. Do we need to wander through the rest of this warehouse and see how many parts are labeled as being for a Hunter-class battleship? Do I need to start a full-blown inquiry into why these parts don’t seem to be in your database?”

Skversky’s silence was deafening.

“If you’d like, I can print out the list of battleship parts from the old inventory I have,” Hutton offered. “We could start going up and down the aisles and verifying that it’s still accurate, but you’ve already seen enough to suspect that, right, Lieutenant?

“Still, that’s a lot of work. I have a much simpler solution. One that will undoubtedly make sure that this problem doesn’t occur in the future.”

Selter walked back to the group and put his hands on his hips. “I like simple solutions, Petty Officer. What do you suggest?”

“Since there seems to be some kind of glitch in the supply database and Chief Petty Officer Skversky doesn’t have any knowledge of these parts in the first place, it would be a simple matter to load everything up and take it to our ship. Then the supply people here aren’t responsible for parts they can’t use elsewhere, and we wouldn’t have to bug them for the things we need.

“Since they never fulfilled any of our parts requests, the quantity numbers should match up. If they’re short, well, that’s a different issue, and they’d need to account for the discrepancy and arrange for replacement parts.”

“Are you effing kidding me?” Skversky demanded. “There ain’t no way in hell that I’m letting you just wander off with all of these parts. We’re responsible for them, and we ain’t going to hand them over to somebody like you.”

“Shall we see if anything is even listed as being in this warehouse?” Hutton asked sweetly. “I’ll bet that if we check, your database will show this entire warehouse is empty. If that’s the case, you’re not responsible for any of this.”

“Well, that’s not exactly true,” Selter said sternly. “If this warehouse shows as empty, that’s a huge problem that’s going to need a deeper investigation. If we check a random selection of parts in this warehouse, and they claim to be something other than what they actually are, then that’s a different problem, but it’s just as bad.

“I’m afraid that the only way to be certain what’s in here is to do a one hundred percent verification of the contents.”

Skversky held his hands up as though he were pushing the officer away. “Whoa there, Lieutenant. That’s way above my pay grade. You’re going to have to talk to Lieutenant Chambers about that. He’s down on Faust, so you’re not going to be able to talk to him until tomorrow. This is just going to have to wait.”

“If I might be so bold,” Hutton said deferentially, “I think that we should perform a spot check now. A lot can change after people go to sleep, and it would be really embarrassing if we came back in the morning and it was empty.”

Skversky clenched his fists but said nothing.

Selter seemed to consider his words for a moment and then nodded. “Take Petty Officer Hutton to print out the contents of his file of the parts belonging to the battleship division, CPO.

“Petty Officer Hutton, please make sure that all the parts for Delta Orionis are located in this warehouse. If they’re not, make note of where we can find them. And while you’re at it, print out what’s supposed to be here according to the inventory that the supply depot is currently using.”

He smiled coolly. “If we spot check a few dozen bins and see that there are consistent discrepancies, then I’m going to put a few members of the shore patrol here until a thorough inventory can be taken.

“While it’s outside my purview to transfer parts from one logistics department to another, I’m certainly open to the idea and will endorse it with the chain of command.”

Skversky blanched. “I’ll have to talk to my commanding officer. Maybe it would be best if I called him right away. It’s probably better to nip this in the bud before it grows into something bigger.”

Skversky headed off with Hutton at his heels.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall as they argued over their illegal doings and all the trouble that Joby had just caused them.

They followed the noncommissioned officers at a more sedate pace, and Selter looked over at Jack, smirking a little. “There’s always a little bit of crime going on in supply. It’s been that way since the beginning of time, I suspect. Some pilfering can be tolerated, but when the scale becomes too large, that’s when the people in my office have to pay attention.

“Chief Skversky doesn’t know it yet, but he’s going to suffer an inventory of the entire supply depot done by outside personnel. I have no doubt that will turn up evidence of serious problems. No doubt at all.”

He turned to face Jack more squarely. “I’d imagine that you’ve got plenty of space aboard your ship for these parts, so I’ll push to see that the transfer goes through before I drop the hammer on supply. We’ll inventory everything in this warehouse first, and if it’s listed as for the battleship division, then I’ll do my best to see that they hand it over. We’ll make sure that enough basic supplies are dispensed for your crew as well.

“There has to be a way to send instructions up the line to make sure that any future deliveries go to your ship as opposed to headquarters.”

That was very generous, and it made Jack more than a little suspicious of his motives.

“While I certainly appreciate that, Lieutenant, I have to wonder why you’re going so far for someone you don’t know. You’re almost advocating for my people.”

Selter’s smile widened. “Believe it or not, I have a sense of justice and fair play. It’s one of the things that drove me to become a JAG officer. This is going to cause a lot of consternation and finger-pointing, but the situation has to be resolved.

“It’s not going to be the kind of thing that Vice Admiral LaChasse or Commodore Nastasi would want to see, but we’ll just have to deal with the consequences and the chaos.”

And like that, a metaphorical light bulb went on over Jack’s head. A massive scandal in the supply department would cause more than enough pandemonium to allow the search for Nastasi’s body to continue for weeks.

It was a devious plan but also one that suited Jack’s needs, so he’d work with it.

“Then I suppose all I can do is thank you for your assistance,” Jack said with a smile as he extended his hand. “Please give my thanks to Commodore Nastasi as well once she returns. I hope that whatever crisis she’s dealing with is settled soon and without too much grief.”

“As do I, Commodore,” Selter said sincerely as he shook Jack’s hand. “Though there is something that you can do for me. Would you mind giving me a tour of your ship when we’re done here? That sounds like a fair trade for my assistance.”

It took all of Jack’s willpower and skill as a commanding officer to keep the easy smile on his face. Bringing Commodore Nastasi’s attacker to where he might discover she was still alive was a terrible idea.

But what choice did he have? It was a risk—a huge risk—but not one that he could easily dodge.

“I’d be happy to,” he said, already scrambling to come up with a plan to deal with this new disaster.

25

It only took a few minutes for Hutton to print out the information that Selter had requested. Once he’d done so, it quickly became apparent that something very fishy was going on.

Big surprise.

The warehouse that seemingly contained all the parts for his ship was listed as completely empty. For the supply people, that was the worst-case scenario. It meant that they had a lot of explaining to do, and Jack had no sympathy for them.

Skversky had called his commanding officer, but it was going to take some time for that worthy to arrive. Not that Jack imagined the officer really wanted to come back. Desertion would be a better option at this point.

In the meantime, Jack, Selter, and Hutton wandered around the warehouse doing spot checks of the various parts from the list that Hutton had printed out. Those, of course, matched what was there because the supply people couldn’t very well sell something that they didn’t know existed.

After wandering up and down the various aisles and checking random bins and boxes, Selter was convinced that Hutton’s supposedly old list was accurate. That fact didn’t seem to make him angry. Instead, he seemed to grow calmer and colder the longer they looked.

Jack was now certain that Nastasi had misjudged her aide. She might never have seen him as potentially violent, but there were depths to him that made it clear that he was far more capable of putting on a mask to conceal his true feelings than anyone had ever suspected.

While he had no way of being sure, Jack felt deep in his bones that Selter had been part of the conspiracy for a long time. He’d been their eyes and ears inside the Judge Advocate General’s office. He was a dangerous man and a wildcard that Jack would have to account for.

To his surprise, Lieutenant Chambers did return to the supply depot. Not wanting to be part of that awkward conversation, Jack and Hutton stood off to the side while the two lieutenants had an animated discussion that involved lots of arm waving and gesticulating.

It was a great show to watch from a safe distance, and it got even better when several other officers arrived. Their ranks stretched from lieutenant commander all the way up to captain. Their arrival started the arm waving process again.

The newly arrived officers escorted Lieutenant Chambers away. He looked almost as if he were handcuffed already. He had to know the jig was up and that his career was finished.

After everyone had departed, Selter came back over. “Well, that’s a start. Chambers is, of course, denying that anything is out of the ordinary, but a simple look here was all I needed to justify an outside inventory of the supply depot.”

He sighed and shook his head. “That’s going to take weeks, but we’ll start with this warehouse tomorrow morning so we can line up people from a different division to do the actual work. If you could send Petty Officer Hutton back, he can assist us. As the inventory progresses, we’ll pack everything up and get it to your ship.

“It wasn’t tough for me to carve out that exemption with the logistics officers overseeing everything since the parts aren’t useful for anything other than your ship, and we need a firm count of what’s here to pressure the supply people to cooperate.”

Jack felt a sense of elation. This was far more than he’d expected to accomplish. When combined with the parts and equipment coming up from Faust, they might be able to get the ship’s systems operational again.

Eventually.

The personnel from the Naval and Marine Academies would help get that started, but the process would still take months, if not years.

It would also likely reveal gaps in the supplies. Some systems wouldn’t have the necessary parts and would have to stay nonfunctional or be jury-rigged. That was a problem he could and would deal with.

Jack extended his hand to Selter. “I really appreciate your efforts and the fact that you’re working with us so that we can start getting my ship back into shape. I’ll make sure that Hutton is here first thing in the morning to assist as needed.”

“Be sure that he brings enough people to get everything boxed and transported,” Selter said as he shook Jack’s hand. “I expect just about everybody assigned here is going to be in custody by then. Nobody else will be getting parts out of this facility until we can get some personnel here that aren’t tainted by what’s been going on.

“The next few weeks are going to be busy for me as well, but that starts tomorrow. I’ll grab something to eat and then head over to your ship. I’ll try not to take up too much of your time, but I have to admit I’m curious about some of the features on that old ship.”

Jack didn’t have time for this, but making sure that the visiting officer didn’t see anything incriminating was incredibly important. He could only do that if he showed Selter around personally.

“It will be my pleasure,” Jack lied. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we’ve got to get back to Delta Orionis and make sure that we’ve got the logistics area ready to receive the parts. Again, please send my thanks to Commodore Nastasi for her assistance as well.”

And with that, they made their way out of the supply depot. They passed a dozen members of the shore patrol entering the facility, no doubt ready to secure everything and everyone.

“Can you imagine what a zoo this place is going to be when they start digging into the computers and find the alternate set of books?” Hutton asked. “Once the scale of what’s been taking place here becomes known, everybody involved is toast.”

“Are they going to find that information?” Jack asked, raising an eyebrow as they walked back into the main corridor. He’d half expected to see Tina Chen, but she failed to appear.

Of course she wouldn’t. She was a professional. She’d make her way back to Hunter separately. Hell, she was probably packing up at the hotel right now.

The disgraced logistics officer just grinned. “Even if they’ve deleted the unofficial books—and I suspect they have—all the computer systems here are backed up offsite.

“Their biggest defense was avoiding a full-blown investigation. If it was only a matter of someone looking into a few missing parts here or there, no one would’ve done a complete inventory, and they’d have gotten away with it.”

He shrugged slightly. “It’s always possible they’ve got an accomplice who could delete the backups, but that’s not going to matter. I took the precaution of printing out my supposedly old inventory.

“Admittedly, it’s going to be out-of-date since I set up the database to only print the information that would’ve been there up to the point where I was court-martialed. Still, it’s going to be more than enough to send them all to the brig.”

“Isn’t this going to blow back on you? You were there when a lot of this was going on.”

Hutton shook his head as they headed toward the small craft bay. “I wasn’t assigned directly to the supply depot. Sure, I knew Skversky and what was going on, but I didn’t work there. My wrongdoing wasn’t really work related in any case.”

He shot Jack a wry smile. “Before they busted me, I was a lieutenant commander, and the supply depot was one of the places that I periodically inspected since I supported the officers in command of the logistics chain here.

“I never had direct access to the parts, even though I’m familiar with some of the tricks that they went through to make their scheme work. After all, I served my time in a supply depot too.”

He grinned. “And just in case you’re curious, I wasn’t court-martialed for malfeasance. I slept with my commanding officer’s wife, and when he found out, he attacked me. I punched his lights out.

“Self-defense, I said. The court didn’t agree. He got a divorce and a transfer, and I got busted. It beat a dishonorable discharge, so here we are.”

That was a completely different backstory than Jack had concocted in his head, about how Hutton had arrived aboard Hunter, but now that he thought about it, it did fit with the man’s character pretty well. Hutton was a schmoozer. Apparently a very good schmoozer.

“I suppose it’s a good thing that I’m not married,” Jack said with a smirk. “Otherwise, I’d have to keep my eye on you.”

“Maybe not, but you’ve got that hot commodore moving into your quarters in another day or so. Not that I would ever judge, of course.”

“She’s been stabbed, Hutton. There’s no way any hanky-panky will be taking place. Besides, the woman doesn’t even know me.”

“She will by the time she’s fully recovered,” Hutton said with a wink. “And you clean up okay. I’ll bet that by the time she’s ready to leave Hunter, you two are—”

“I think that’s quite enough of this particular line of discussion,” Jack interjected firmly. “It’s my fault for letting the conversation wander. I forgot who I was talking to.”

Hutton laughed without the slightest hint of self-consciousness as they walked into the small craft bay and boarded their cutter.

He had no shame. Jack could absolutely see him sleeping with someone’s wife and then being outraged when the husband walked in and disturbed their fun.

As they strapped into the cutter, Jack changed the subject. “Are we going to have enough room for all these parts, plus whatever they bring up from Faust? The area you set aside seems a little small.”

“Don’t worry, sir, the ship has a much larger area that can be used for logistics. There just wasn’t any reason to open it up because we had no parts or supplies to fill it with. I’ll rustle up some help this evening and get everything in order. Still, you’re right. There’s no way that it can hold everything. We can open up more of the ship for the overflow. Some of it might be in vacuum, but we’ll make it work.”

They flew back to Hunter. Jack interfaced with their new traffic control system while Hutton piloted. When they landed inside the bay, Jack was greeted by a different set of Marine guards than he’d had before he left. An older, somewhat more menacing group.

One of them was Mac Turner. He was even dressed in the old-style uniform.

Hutton scampered off to prepare for the incoming flood of parts, and Jack met the former Marine force recon officer. “Did you ever think you’d be back in uniform, Major?”

His lips twitched just a little. “I’m not sure I’m in uniform now, sir. This feels like playacting to me.

“Still, before you get worried about it, you might be required to wear this uniform, but it’s not an official Navy uniform, so I’m not violating any laws or regulations by wearing it.”

“For once, I already knew that,” Jack said. “We went to a swap meet on Faust the other day, and I saw literally hundreds of people wearing variations of these uniforms, so you’re not getting any flak from me. Honestly, it looks good on you. Better than I look, for sure.”

And that was absolutely true. Somehow the uniform looked as if it belonged on the older man.

Turner shook his head. “Don’t sell yourself short. That beard of yours makes you the poster boy for an old-school recruiting pitch. We could drop you off two hundred years ago, and you’d fit right in. The old-style uniform gives you gravitas.”

Jack snorted, not buying it for a minute. “I take it that your presence here means that you were successful in your recruiting effort?”

Turner nodded. “It’s going to take a couple of days to get everyone up here, but the turnout actually surprised me. Counting myself, it looks like you’re going to have sixty-five of us for at least the next month.”

That was quite a force, Jack had to admit, and he’d take it.

“Has anything happened while I was gone?” he asked as they started into the ship.

“Not that I’m aware of. Lieutenant Dubsky relocated the Marines officially assigned to the ship to your quarters and the aid station. She reduced the watch to a single Marine at each location so they could have some downtime.

“Once I get a couple more people up here, we’ll relieve both guard posts. She just doesn’t have the manpower to do more than escort you. Even with that, she’ll need to double her current force, at least. I understand she’s working on that.”

“McRae didn’t want to move Commodore Nastasi for forty-eight hours, but I don’t think we have a choice. The man that stabbed her is coming over for a visit, and I couldn’t say no without sounding suspicious.

“It should just be him and a pilot, so we should be able to keep an eye on everyone. If we can get Nastasi moved to my quarters before he arrives, the odds of Selter seeing her go way down.”

“And what if he wants to see your quarters? It’s almost a historical shrine, isn’t it?”

That was the damned truth.

“That would be awkward,” he conceded. “I may have to put her in the quarters typically assigned to my steward on the other side of the formal dining room.

“So far as I know, those haven’t been renovated yet, but we can get something in place for her in the next hour. If we close the door, we can keep her out of sight and tell Selter that the area isn’t in use.”

“If he asks, tell him those quarters are being used by your Marine guards,” Turner suggested. “A couple of scowling Marines will reduce any impulse to go in and see what’s in there. You could even have the two off-duty Marines there during the visit in case he tries to stick his nose in anyway.”

That was a better plan, so Jack nodded. “That’s what we’ll do.”

Thankfully, the extra hands hadn’t put in an appearance yet. They would’ve sparked questions he’d have a hard time answering. As inconvenient as the intrusion was, the timing worked.

If he could get Nastasi set up in the steward’s quarters now, Selter’s visit would merely be an inconvenience rather than a disaster, so he’d best get that started and hope that nothing went wrong during the tour.

26

Needless to say, McRae wasn’t happy at the idea of moving his patient before the initial forty-eight hours was up. He made that perfectly clear, even as he bowed to the inevitable and began moving the necessary support and emergency gear to the steward’s quarters.

The furniture there was trash, and David Chen was in the process of having it removed when Jack arrived to oversee the transformation of the space to sickroom and safehouse. It looked as if the workers had finished installing the new equipment in the galley. The old equipment was stacked against the wall opposite the steward’s suite.

“Once we have them inside, I think we should have the workers pile the old stove and grill in front of the suite door,” Jack said. “They’re far too heavy for a single person to move, and as long as the commodore and McRae are quiet, they shouldn’t be disturbed.”

The older man nodded. “That’s sound thinking. If we do that, we can dispense with the idea of pretending that these quarters belong to the Marines. Are we expecting much trouble? Yes, I understand that he’s a would-be murderer, but he’s only one man. If he causes too much grief, we can deal with him.”

Jack turned toward Chen and raised an eyebrow. “That sounds ominous. Exactly how would we deal with him?”

“People have accidents all the time, Jack. Let’s say that he wanted to explore a compartment with no atmosphere. All we have are old vacuum suits, and even though they’ve been gone over multiple times, there’s always the possibility of a suit failure. If something… unfortunate happened to Lieutenant Selter, I’m sure there would be an investigation, but it would be a cursory one if the stage were set correctly.”

“I’m not going to kill someone because they’re an inconvenience,” Jack said firmly. “If he becomes a problem, we’ll detain him, and the commodore can go public. I’d rather not rush her, but I’d prefer that to murder.”

Chen sniffed. “I can see that I have work to do on your flexibility. Sometimes the most efficient solution to a problem isn’t the one that follows the straight and narrow.”

“Like I said at breakfast, you can suggest any course of action that you’d like, but I have the final say. I’m not going to hold it against you that you’re a super creepy spy guy, but you need to remember that I make the calls.”

Chen sighed and shook his head sadly. “Well, in any case, I got word to my wife that he’s visiting. She hadn’t left headquarters, though she had checked out of her hotel. She found another place to stay and will return to Hunter tomorrow, just to be safe. As he’s seen her—even if only in passing—it’s best to take no chances.”

McRae arrived with Nastasi on a gurney and maneuvered her into her temporary quarters. He wasn’t pleased at the room’s cleanliness. Jack knew that because he bitched about it the entire time he was setting up, not bothering to lower his voice at all.

Jack stepped into the surprisingly spacious suite of rooms. “I’m sorry that we have to go through this, but we don’t have a choice. If her attacker even suspects that she’s here, we can count on additional attempts to silence her and potentially the rest of us as well.

“Just deal with it for a couple of hours—maybe the afternoon if I can’t get rid of him—and then you can take her back to the aid station.”

He grunted. “I’ve moved her now, so I might as well finish. When it’s safe, I’ll check the rooms on your side of that monstrous dining hall and find an appropriate one. A clean one.

“She’s recovering well enough that I’m willing to let her out of my sight at this point, so long as I’m able to check her remotely and visit as needed to make sure that things are proceeding well.”

With that, the medic headed back toward the aid station to get more gear, leaving Jack alone with Nastasi. She looked slightly better than she had yesterday, and that made him happy. The very last thing he wanted was to see her suffer some kind of setback.

“They tell me that you confronted the supply people,” she said in a tired voice. “How did that go?”

“Surprisingly well, considering some of the shenanigans that we had to deal with,” he said as he stepped up next to the gurney and put his hand on the metal railing. “One of my people used to work in logistics and was able to get an older copy of the actual inventory, as opposed to the one that they’d presented to the rest of the world.

“I was going to use that as leverage to force them into giving me my parts and supplies, but Selter showed up and turned my dark doings into an official investigation. As his payment for helping us, he asked for a personal tour of the ship. That’s why you’re here.”

She nodded. “I’d heard he was coming, but I didn’t know any of the details. I have to say it’s disconcerting to find out that the man who attacked me is going to be walking around this ship, potentially looking for me. How certain are you that I’ll be safe here?”

“Completely sure. We’re going to hide the entrance to the suite with some of the old galley equipment. One person—or even a couple of people—wouldn’t be able to easily move that by themselves.

“I’m also going to put some guards in here with you to make sure that you’re safe no matter what happens. The risk to you is zero.”

She smiled a little. “We both know that risk is never zero. We do everything we can to reduce it, but there’s always a chance that something will go terribly wrong, even when you think everything is locked down tight. Do you think that he suspects that I’m here?”

Jack shrugged. “I don’t know. He has to be worried about where you are, but he’s a cool customer. I couldn’t tell anything from the way he behaved.

“I have to say that I think your initial assessment of him was wrong. I think he’s been a part of whatever conspiracy is going on for a very long time. He’s not just some patsy that they’ve forced into the role of killing you. I think he was a willing participant.”

“That’s hard to believe. I’m not saying you’re wrong, but it hurts that I never suspected a thing. They could have tentacles everywhere. Where else do they have people? The supply depot?”

“That wouldn’t shock me,” Jack admitted. “I’m actually surprised you’re not reading me the riot act for using underhanded tactics to get my parts.”

That made her chuckle and then wince. “Don’t make me laugh. If I was toeing that line, then I’d need to be insisting to be put in contact with Vice Admiral LaChasse so that they could arrest Selter. Yet here I am, hiding on your ship until I can figure out the best course of action.

“Your intention to use their crimes against them to get what they’d been withholding from you the entire time might be technically against the regulations, but it’s not exactly an immoral decision. Tell me the rest of it.”

Leaving out any mention of Tina Chen, Jack laid out the rest of the story of how Selter had intervened to make sure that they got the parts to Hunter as soon as possible.

“Why do you think he did it?” she asked. “This doesn’t make any sense.”

“Maybe it’s to keep me from causing trouble while they clean up after themselves,” he ventured. “If I make too much of a nuisance of myself, then any investigation might reveal something about the people behind Selter. Or it might just be to give themselves breathing space to find your body. In any case, we’re not going to find the answer to that question today.”

Turner stepped into the suite. “We’re ready to seal up soon as the medic gets back. My associate and I will stay here and keep everything serene.”

“Commodore Nastasi, this is Mac Turner, retired Marine force recon major.”

The injured woman smiled. “Now I feel a lot safer. Were you truly in force recon, Major?”

“I haven’t been a major for more than a decade, but yes, ma’am. Trust me when I say that my associate and I will make certain you’re not discomfited.”

He turned his attention to Jack. “Our equipment still hasn’t been delivered, but I spoke with Lieutenant Dubsky, and she’s providing us with sidearms and service rifles. My associate is picking them up right now.”

Then he frowned. “I’ve been thinking about your plan, and it might have a flaw. If the guy has any brains whatsoever, he’ll have researched exactly who the crew is. Since he left Commodore Nastasi in bad shape, she’ll need medical care, and he’ll know what you have in the way of medics.

“I suggest that you send McRae back to the aid station and let us keep an eye on the commodore. My associate and I both have combat medic training and are more than capable of monitoring her condition. If there are any problems, we have the equipment here to intervene. That leaves nothing for this guy to find if he goes looking for the only person aboard with medical training.”

Jack thought about that for a moment and then nodded. “McRae did say he was ready to leave her by herself for short periods as long as she was monitored, so having you guys here with her should be acceptable. I’ll let him know as soon as he gets back. Keep her safe.”

Jack inclined his head toward Nastasi and then left the suite. The other retired Marine was just entering the dining hall with a pair of rifles and two belted pistols. He also had a backpack that might have held any number of dangerous implements.

As soon as McRae came in with his last load of equipment, Jack told him about the change in plans. As expected, he wasn’t pleased but agreed that it was probably for the best.

The workers sealed the door to the suite and began piling the burned galley equipment in front of it. In a matter of minutes, the debris had formed an impenetrable barrier. That done, they returned to the mess hall they were inspecting, and McRae went to the aid station to make sure there was no sign of recent surgery or occupancy.

One problem dealt with. Now Jack just had to keep Selter from seeing anything that he wasn’t supposed to see, primarily, the professor’s lab.

Thankfully, it wasn’t marked in any way, and there was no reason their visitor would want to examine a random supply room.

They also needed to set the stage so he only saw what they chose to show of the ship’s repairs. To get that piece in place, Jack called his chief engineer.

“Danek.”

“Romanoff. We’re going to have an unwelcome visitor shortly, and I’m certain he’s going to want to see engineering. You need to make certain that you tone down the lighting and make it look mostly inoperable.”

“Already ahead of you, sir. We’ve shut down everything but one of the fusion plants. That’s where the official records say we get all of our power, so seeing that won’t raise any red flags.

“I also had one of my people fiddle with the hatch leading to the professor’s lab. It now shows that there’s vacuum on the other side, so he shouldn’t be poking his head in there. Is there any other part of the ship that we need to block off from him?”

“Yes. Where you’ve been mining and smelting metals. If there are any other questionable activities taking place on this ship I don’t know about, you need to make certain he doesn’t see them. That doesn’t mean that you have to tell me about them, though I wish you would, but they need to be concealed.”

“No worries about that, sir. Nobody is going to see anything that bothers them. If that’s all, I really need to get back to what I’m doing.”

He smiled at the way she phrased that. There were obviously other things going on that they didn’t want him to know about. Well, it was okay. It would all come out in the wash.

Eventually.

“Sounds good, Lieutenant. I’ll let you know if anything changes. Romanoff out.”

He started toward the small craft bay and was somewhat surprised when he ran into Prescott and Christine just outside his door.

“Perfect timing,” the professor said with a smile. “We were just coming to get you and head for the small craft bay. We thought we should discuss the situation a little bit before our unwelcome guest arrives.”

“We?” Jack inquired, raising an eyebrow. “I thought you were just a dedicated observer, Christine.”

She gave him a cold smile, showing most of her pearly white teeth. “I prefer to stay in the background, yes, but I’m a journalist at heart. I really want to put that murderer on the spot, but since I can’t do that, I’m going to disrupt whatever he thinks he’s doing.”

“Technically, attempted murderer. What do you have in mind?”

“Simple enough. I plan to chatter about everything under the sun and keep him completely engaged to the point that whatever he wants to do is impossible, particularly since my drones will be recording everything. And I brought three of them.”

She grinned. “You wouldn’t believe how much that sets some people’s teeth on edge. Here he is, trying to do something sneaky or underhanded, and he’s got all of these cameras watching his every move.

“I’m not going to have them as far back as they normally would be. They’re going to be right in his face, and he’s going to know he’s being recorded the entire time.”

Jack laughed. “That sounds like a great idea, and I appreciate your assistance in this matter. I can’t imagine what would happen if he found out that Commodore Nastasi was here, but it wouldn’t be good.”

His comm went off, and he answered. “Romanoff.”

“Traffic control, sir. We have an incoming cutter with a Lieutenant Selter aboard. The list I have says that he’s approved but that you wanted to be notified as soon as he made contact.”

“That’s right. Take him off the list now that he’s here, and let him in.”

“Will do, sir. Traffic control out.”

Jack put his comm away and headed for the small craft bay. “It looks like it’s time to get this show on the road. I have to say that I’m looking forward to setting this guy back on his heels. I imagine he always thinks he’s in control of whatever situation he’s in, and this is probably going to be a new sensation for him.”

As they walked away from his suite, the Marine that had been assigned as his guard fell in behind them, and they made their way to the small craft bay. The remaining Marine stayed on guard outside the admiral’s suite.

They arrived just in time to see a Navy cutter fly into the small craft bay and set down in one of the parking areas. The hatch opened and Selter stepped out, then closed the hatch behind him.

He walked over to Jack and saluted. “Thank you for accommodating my curiosity, Commodore Romanoff. I appreciate it.”

“It’s the least I can do. Allow me to introduce my associates. Lieutenant Zach Selter, this is Doctor Prescott, the director of the Locust War Historical Society, and of the museum that this ship is part of.”

The professor smiled brightly and extended his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant. I’m deeply in your debt for what you’ve done.”

“Well, I wouldn’t say I did all that much, Director. I think Commodore Romanoff was already well on his way to getting the parts that you needed. All I did was expedite matters.”

“Nevertheless, should I be able to assist you in any way, please don’t hesitate to contact me.”

Christine didn’t wait for an introduction, she just stuck out her hand and smiled widely. “Christine Hooghuis. I work for the Sons and Daughters of the Locust War. I’m recording a documentary of the ship’s restoration. Pay no attention to me or my drones.”

Jack noted that there were now only two drones. Where had the third one gone? They also orbited much more closely. He was pleased to see that they seemed to intimidate Selter.

“Well, I’m not exactly part of the restoration, so there’s no need for anything like that,” the lieutenant said, eyeing the drones warily.

“Any time the commodore is aboard the ship, there are drones following him. One never knows when something important will happen, so rather than miss a historic moment, I make sure he’s covered at all times.

“Just ignore them. This isn’t a live feed. Everything will be processed and edited, but no human is watching you. None of the footage that includes you will be used without your explicit permission, and the drones won’t follow you if you go to the bathroom. Nothing to worry about.”

Before Selter could object further, she gestured toward the corridor leading into the ship. “I’ve had a chance to look around, and you’re going to be absolutely amazed by some of the things here. We can see all of the major sections of the ship and then have dinner in the mess hall. The food is a lot better than you might expect. Just think of it as an adventure.”

He looked uncertain, but who could argue with someone as bright and bubbly as Christine?

“Your pilot can wait in the mess hall,” Jack said. “No need for them to be uncomfortable.”

Selter shook his head. “I do my own flying, so it’s just me. I have to say that this bay is significantly larger than anything I’d imagined. Look at all those small craft.”

“Hunter is a big ship,” Jack said, heading for the corridor. “She has three other general bays just like this and another one dedicated to the Marines. Back in the day, she had five thousand crewmen. At the moment, we’re one percent of that.

“I’ll let the professor do the talking because he knows a lot more about Hunter than I do. Trust me when I say that you’re going to see things you’d never have expected over the next few hours.”

And with that, the tour began. Jack had done everything he could to keep Selter from seeing anything untoward, but Murphy loved to meddle where he wasn’t wanted. Jack would just have to cross his fingers and hope for the best.

27

Even though being recorded probably threw Selter off his game, he still did a credible job of looking around the ship. And, just as Mac Turner had suggested, he did ask to see what passed for a sickbay aboard Hunter. That convinced Jack that the man really was looking for evidence that Nastasi’s miraculous escape led here.

The bland, offhand manner in which Jack introduced him to their medic and McRae’s grumpy responses seemed to ease Selter’s suspicions, though he still gave the area far more attention than it warranted, covering that by saying the supplies and equipment were insufficient for keeping Navy personnel cared for and promising to do something about it.

Based on his past actions, he might actually follow through with that promise. If so, Jack wouldn’t turn down the assistance, though the equipment wouldn’t be used without a thorough examination.

After that, Selter asked to see the admiral’s quarters. Jack made sure to give him a good tour, complaining about the antiques and their showy nature every step of the way. It sounded authentic because Jack actually felt that way.

He even showed Selter the disused galley across the dining room from his suite. He gave it no more than a passing glance before he was ready to move on, none the wiser that his target was just a short distance away.

When Jack finally saw the lieutenant back aboard his cutter and off Hunter, he started to relax a little. Even the professor and Christine unwound after Selter was gone.

“Well, that was quite the adventure,” Prescott said. “Did we fool him?”

“I think so,” Jack said. “There was nothing to indicate Commodore Nastasi was aboard. He’s got to be second-guessing his suspicions.

“That doesn’t mean he won’t try to figure out if she’s here again, but this was the easiest method to defuse the situation for a while. If he wants a second look—or to get people aboard—he’ll have to try sneaking someone aboard, and we’ll be ready.”

“Are we sure that he didn’t do that this trip?” Prescott asked. “What if there were other people aboard his cutter and they slipped off while we were gone?”

“I left one of my drones up near the ceiling watching his cutter,” Christine said smugly. “Maybe I’m an overly suspicious sort, but I half expected to see something like that.”

She pulled out her comm—which was somewhat larger than Jack’s—and began tapping on its screen. “None of the motion or infrared sensors tripped, so the drone didn’t see anyone. I’ll review the footage more carefully just to be sure, but no one came off that cutter while we were gone.”

“Good,” Jack said, relaxing even more. “I never did get a chance to stop by and talk with you about what you’re doing in the lab, Professor. Have you made any discoveries that I should know about?”

He grinned. “Indeed, we have. We were able to pull quite a bit of data off the functional data core, and I’ve been comparing it to what I had for the system I’ve been examining. A lot of the information is the same, but some segments are different, and more than a few are blank on the damaged one.

“I suspect that means the core that I’ve been using was wiped of critical information, which has me concentrating on those differences. I’m not holding my breath, but this is the first step toward deciphering what we’re seeing.”

The man crossed his arms over his chest. “We’re going back over the hardware as well. If we can determine what allows that unit more operational freedom, we might be able to modify the one in my lab to get an elevated level of access. Or potentially learn how to disable the motherships, though I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you.

“Bottom line, we’re no closer to getting proof that the Locusts are going to return—much less where they came from—but once we crack the alien data storage techniques and start reading their data, that becomes a possibility.”

“We’ll continue to hope that that day never comes, but it sounds like you’ve made progress,” Jack said. “Keep at it while I focus on getting the ship in order. We should have parts and supplies arriving from the supply depot starting tomorrow morning.

“We’ll also be getting scavenged parts and equipment from Faust starting over the next few days. Hutton is busy on the supply depot side, so I wonder if you might take some time off from your research to make sure that we get everything put away in a manner that makes it easier for him to straighten up once he gets back?”

“I’d be happy to,” the older man said. “Hunter has a number of large compartments that we can put the parts in to begin sorting them. The ones from the supply depot will most likely be somewhat orderly, but the ones from Faust will be a hodgepodge.

“We should also keep the new parts separated from the used ones because the latter will require testing to verify that they actually function correctly.”

Jack’s comm went off. “Romanoff.”

“Traffic control, sir. We have a cutter inbound claiming to be from the Naval Academy.”

Jack raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t expected anyone from there for at least a day or two. He hoped they weren’t about to be flooded with new hands.

“Clear them in.”

After he killed the connection, he turned to Christine and the professor. “Thanks for your help, but I should meet them alone. Go grab something to eat and let McRae know he can free his patient and her guards.”

It only took a couple of minutes for the academy cutter to arrive. By a weird quirk of circumstance, it settled into the same space that Selter had used.

When the hatch opened, the first person out was in a grav chair, floating lightly forward with a smile on her dark, age-lined face as she stared around the massive small craft bay.

He recognized Rear Admiral Anjelica Valenciano, of course. She’d been running the Naval Academy for decades and had been an instructor there before that. Jack had even taken one of her classes when he’d joined.

The Marine with her was easily a head taller than Jack and close to twice his mass. Obviously, that was Major General George Schroeder, the Commandant of the Marine Academy.

Jack came to attention and saluted. “Admiral Valenciano, General Schroeder, welcome aboard Delta Orionis.”

Both of them returned his salute. The general held back while the admiral glided forward to extend her hand. “It’s a pleasure to see you again, Commodore. I’ll confess that I had to check our records to be sure we’d actually met, with the number of students that I’ve had over the years.

“Of course, your connection with your father meant that I couldn’t very well forget that I had a scion of such an important family at the Academy, but I wanted to verify my memory that you’d been in one of my classes.”

She partly turned toward the Marine officer. “You’d never have met George in the course of your duties, but allow me to vouch for him. Not that he needs my recommendation, but I’ll give it anyway. Everything I am to the Naval Academy, he is to the Marine Academy, and a more upstanding and patriotic officer you will not find.”

“I can’t imagine a more ringing endorsement,” Jack said and extended his hand to Schroeder. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir.”

“The pleasure is mine,” he replied in a voice so deep it felt like Jack’s chest was vibrating in time with his words. “I visited this ship when I was a boy, and I have to say that I still vividly remember the emotions that it raised in me. Seeing Delta Orionis probably did more to convince me to join the Marines than even my father’s service.

“Do you understand what an icon is, Commodore? This vessel is an icon. It represents something selfless and good about the Confederation and how it fought off an alien invasion intent on subjugating humanity.”

He looked around the bay for a few seconds, seemingly taking it all in. “It wasn’t easy, and the war required great sacrifice. Nevertheless, she and her sisters suffered through pain and destruction all the way to victory. Just one look at her hull tells the story of someone who never surrendered, never gave up hope, and never stopped fighting.

“If you ever feel that you can’t do something, that the odds against you are just too great, remember that the people who came before you felt exactly the same way, and they persevered, fighting on to victory even though it came at great cost.”

“Since I arrived, I almost hear the spirits of those who came before me whispering in my ear,” Jack admitted, “telling me the things that I needed to do and giving me the spine I needed to make them happen. Hunter is in terrible shape, but things are starting to look up.

“With your help, I believe we can at least restore life support to every section of the ship. It’s probably too much to hope for anything more, but it’s a great start. My crew and I are deeply in your debt.”

Valenciano chuckled. “That’s because you haven’t heard the deal that your father struck to entice us to help. I’m given to understand that this ship can move under her own power. Is that accurate?”

Jack wondered how she knew that. His father hadn’t been briefed on the condition of the engines, so if he’d told her that the engines were functional, how had he known? Had he expected Jack to make them work if they didn’t?

He supposed it didn’t matter. She had asked him a direct question, and he wasn’t going to lie to her.

“Hunter hasn’t moved in a couple of centuries, but her fusion drives are in decent shape.”

The woman in the grav chair nodded. “That’s excellent news. Your father told us that if we lent you the assistance of our students for at least one month, we could utilize your ship for training over the next few years on an agreed-upon schedule.

“It’s tough to get time aboard a cruiser for our people, and things are usually kept in such good condition there that it’s often a matter of sitting around and watching others do the work.”

She smiled, her eyes twinkling. “I want my people to get their hands dirty. Working aboard a ship like this on an in-system cruise would provide a significant amount of real-world experience, and their ongoing work would continue to help improve the quality of your vessel.

“You probably don’t know this, but we have a restriction that prevents us from putting our students aboard civilian ships for training. Even though Delta Orionis is mothballed, she qualifies as a Navy vessel, and I’ll gladly trade a month of classroom training for real work aboard her.”

Then she grinned. “Not that they’ll escape the classroom, of course. This ship is more than large enough to continue having classes, so they can continue to receive instruction on a rotating schedule. The best of both worlds, I think.”

It sounded as if she was fully on board for her own reasons, and that made Jack happy. The best kind of deals were the ones where both sides felt they were getting something valuable.

General Schroeder stepped up beside the admiral and nodded. “I was rather put out that your father hadn’t approached me, so I had a conversation with the admiral. I won’t be able to put as many people aboard as she does because the Marine Academy is smaller, but I believe that my recruits will also learn something by helping with this project.

“A Marine recruit also has a higher percentage of martial training to do, but much of that can be done aboard a ship as large as Delta Orionis. As Anjelica said, I can have my instructors rotating the recruits between training and assisting in the repairs.”

The general smiled a bit. “And, to an even higher degree than her people, mine will understand the glory and sacrifice this ship represents. That will have a positive impact on them, and that’s well worth the time invested.

“In the end, we’d get the same compensation as the Navy. We’d be able to send recruits out on these cruises to get experience doing marine tasks in the wild, under suitable supervision, of course.”

Jack grinned and nodded. “I’m more than happy to have your help. We start getting parts—prioritizing the life-support system—starting tomorrow morning. On the flip side, not much of the ship is under pressure right now. The Marine annex is in vacuum, for example. We’ll have to start with a small group of people and get the ship opened up to house however many people you’re sending.

“It would be best if you brought your own supplies and the people to handle them because things are chaotic here at the moment. This ship only has around five dozen crew and officers. Back in the day, she had a crew of five thousand and probably still had plenty of room to spare.”

“I’ve already prioritized the people that can handle that kind of work, and we’ll send them up first,” Valenciano said. “I doubt very seriously that you have enough canned atmosphere for both filling the open areas of the ship and having the appropriate reserve on hand, so you need to get some ordered. That’s going to be critical before we get a lot of people up here.”

“I’ll make some calls, but I don’t believe that’s going to be a problem,” Jack said. “If I can’t get air through the Navy, I’ll tag some civilian sources on Faust. I know a guy with a ship that can get a lot of it up here. All I’ll need to do first is verify the integrity of the storage vessels.”

“Some of our instructors would probably be able to assist you with that, so I’ll ask for volunteers whose experience is tailored toward expanding your ability to support more people,” Valenciano said. “Even some of our students have skills that will slot in fairly well toward life-support repairs. The Naval Academy will be able to contribute three thousand two hundred and fifty-two students and instructors. The vast majority of the student body is enlisted recruits, but we have a small cadre of officer candidates as well.

“And General Schroeder has kindly offered—how many people was it, George?”

“One thousand one hundred and twelve,” he said. “We also have some officer candidates, but they’ll be experienced people as the Marines select officers from within the ranks of their noncommissioned officers.

“We also tend to pick up more people with a background in physical labor than the Navy, so we have a fair number of welders and mechanics among the recruits. That should prove crucial in making sure that your air storage containers are up to snuff and in helping with the other repairs.”

“My people and I appreciate it,” Jack said, deeply grateful. “If you’ve got time, we could take a tour of the pressurized parts of the ship and even look into some of the unpressurized zones. I imagine you’d want to see the Marine annex, wouldn’t you, General?”

“I would,” the man said with a smile. “Though I doubt Anjelica wants to get suited up. I expect that the annex is radically different from anything in the modern Navy. Thanks for taking time out of your undoubtedly hectic schedule to show us around.”

“Believe it or not, I just finished giving someone else a tour in exchange for help in getting a lot of the parts that we needed. Showing the two of you anything that you’d like to see is going to make my life easier in the long run, so I’m more than happy to invest the time.”

He gestured toward the main corridor. “Are you ready to see one of the largest warships ever constructed by the Confederation?”

At their nods, he led them out to begin their tour. It was true that conducting the tours today had eaten up a lot of his time, but it also meant that the real work could start tomorrow. The parts would be coming in, and so would the extra hands.

He had a month to get as much done as he possibly could, and he wasn’t going to waste a single second of that. Tomorrow, they’d all hit the deck running.

28

The next two weeks were a whirlwind of activity. Things started slowly as shipments of parts began arriving from headquarters and the first few teams of recruits, officer candidates, and their instructors arrived and started assessing sections of the ship that could house more people.

There was little in the way of furniture or bedding, so they treated it like a field exercise and camped in the compartments they’d chosen as initial housing. Jack put in a call to his father for any kind of fixtures that could be used, and he managed to get battered but functional furniture for them. It still wasn’t enough, so they made do.

The work was done under the supervision of the chief engineer and their instructors. All work was double-checked before it was trusted. And that was a good thing because mistakes were made. Some were due to inexperience, and others because the equipment was old and prone to failure anyway.

The parts brought up from the swap meets on Faust added a different kind of complication. They tended to fail—those that did fail—in unusual and exciting ways.

Yet every care was taken to be sure that no one was in danger. Life support in various compartments was brought back online, and pressure built up slowly as they observed everything while wearing vacuum suits.

To his surprise, there were no blowouts. Part of that might have been because the compartments in question were buried deep inside the asteroid itself. Very few passages led directly to the surface, and those were checked by the professionals.

Still, Hunter was a massive ship, and progress was slow. That changed as more and more compartments were made usable and additional people came up from below.

The more people they had, the faster the work happened. Whereas the first few days only saw a compartment or two with life support, power, and other amenities restored, by the end of two weeks, large swaths of the ship were technically back in service. Even so, much of the ship remained in vacuum.

Jack didn’t have time to inspect much himself. Hell, even the original members of his crew didn’t have time to look at every single thing. They were counting on the instructors to provide experienced eyes.

Supplies were being delivered and stored. To his shock, that included medical gear sent over from headquarters. McRae insisted that he’d have to check every single thing before he trusted it, and Jack fully endorsed that.

Thankfully, the medic had extra hands to do that because as more and more people from the academies arrived, they needed support staff to keep them functioning efficiently. That included doctors and medical staff that helped get everything squared away. They even ordered more supplies through their own channels.

Jack was sure that caused McRae more than a little heartburn, but he was pleased to see the visiting medical personnel deferred—at least somewhat—to the man on the scene. They likely didn’t treat him as an equal, but they didn’t walk all over him either.

It was only for a month, so the medic would just have to suck it up.

Hutton had to deal with a similar situation, but Jack suspected it wouldn’t be an issue for the gregarious logistics NCO.

The cooks that they’d brought made sure that the mess halls were brought up to standard. That meant the repair people had to work double time to get each of the galleys functioning again. With trained cooks—though not in the same league as the chef that had come up to serve Jack—it wasn’t a problem to get everyone fed well.

David Chen made sure that the galley attached to the formal dining room was brought online and that his own quarters were made fully functional. Jack could even trust the shower now because he wasn’t worried that bad pipes would blow out or the water would poison him.

They’d ensconced Nastasi in a spare bedroom in his suite, and Jack had breakfast and dinner with her so that she wouldn’t have to eat alone. After a week, she’d regained enough strength that they could eat in the small dining room inside his suite. He came to look forward to those times. He made sure that if she wanted time by herself, he wasn’t intruding, but everybody needed a little human contact.

And to be totally honest, he enjoyed the companionship. He was going to miss her when she left to confront her attacker. Selter wasn’t going to know what hit him.

The one thing she wouldn’t talk about were her plans to deal with Selter. Jack was sure that she had plans, but she wouldn’t disclose anything about what she intended. Only that she was going to take care of him in a way that posed no harm to herself and at a time and place of her choosing.

The only part of her plan he was privy to was that it involved his father. As soon as McRae declared she was fit to travel, David Chen and Hutton smuggled her onto a cutter in a crate, and then Hutton took her down to the planet to meet with Jack’s father at an undisclosed location.

Jack was worried about the consequences of that looming confrontation, but it wasn’t his fight. He’d done his part by keeping her alive and safe while she recovered. When she finally struck back at Selter, the chaos of that event would probably be good for him in the long run.

At least he hoped so. He wished he knew what she intended so that he could plan for what was about to happen.

Tina Chen had stayed aboard headquarters to gather what information she could, but the search for the commodore’s body was so low-key that she couldn’t identify any of the players.

For his part, Jack had people watching the activity in space around Hunter and verifying that every ship and cutter that came close had a reason to do so.

They were either carrying things to and from the academies, bringing up fresh air and basic supplies for the people aboard the ship, or carting in additional parts and equipment that Klein had scrounged up.

Jack really needed to pay him a bigger bonus. He’d whipped up a patriotic frenzy at the swap meets and gotten rock-bottom prices for the various parts and equipment.

The sheer volume of stuff he’d found was amazing, and that spigot hadn’t been turned off yet. On the contrary, it seemed that even more stuff was being dug up from garages or long forgotten stashes and being donated to the cause.

Jack had authorized Klein to sell more small craft if necessary, but he said they still had a nice nest egg of funds to work with. He’d even found additional mechanics willing to donate some of their time working on the small craft still aboard the ship.

They’d already done an assessment on a number of the small craft and found some that they believed could be brought back into service quickly. That started them scavenging parts from others to do so.

He’d seen several cutters and even a pinnace being flown out for test flights, so when the time came, he’d be able to provide small craft for Hunter’s operations. That meant he needed to get some people trained in the controls and licensed to fly them. One more thing.

Even his traffic control team got a boost when the operations area was repressurized, allowing them to move off the bridge until their actual duty station was fixed up. They even had several officer candidates and recruits assisting them while learning what needed to be done.

The recruits were proving far more valuable to operations than he’d expected. They didn’t have any experience with the controls on modern naval craft and could learn the ancient systems without having to unlearn things.

That wasn’t to say that they were experienced now, but it was helpful to have other eyes looking at what was being done. Some of them had shown far more experience with some of the ship’s systems than he’d expected.

That proved its worth right at the two-week mark.

He’d started the habit of traversing the ship every day before dinner to see what was going on, ending on the main bridge.

The bridge had become a quiet affair after traffic control moved, but today he’d found it occupied by a dozen recruits and officer candidates, all of whom were sitting at the consoles when he shed his Marine guards at the door and walked in.

One of them saw him and leapt to his feet. “Commodore on the bridge!”

Faster than he would’ve thought possible, everyone shot to their feet and stood at attention. Nobody saluted, but that wasn’t expected aboard ship.

“At ease,” Jack said as he put his hand on the back of his chair and looked around curiously. “What’s going on? Who gave you permission to be here?”

“Chief Engineer Danek set this up for us, sir,” the young man with closely cropped brown hair said earnestly. “We wanted to test our game skills on actual hardware, so she set up some simulations for us.”

Interested, Jack swept his gaze across the young men and women. “What kind of game? And who are you again?”

“Sorry, sir. I’m Navy Officer Candidate Derek Calvo. We’re all either officer candidates or recruits with experience playing Locust War Online. All the consoles are set up in simulation mode, so no actual ship’s systems are affected. Honestly, sir, we’re just relaxing after a hard day at work. We’re sorry if we’re in your way, and we’ll get out of here at once.”

“Hold up a second,” Jack said, raising a hand to stop the impending stampede toward the exit. “As was once said in an old entertainment video, you had my interest before, but now you have my attention. Tell me more about Locust War Online.”

The young man shared a glance with his companions before shrugging slightly. “It’s part combat simulation and part flight simulation. You fight your battleship against the Locusts as they invade. You can be helm officers, weapons officers, engineers, or any position with a console to work at.

“It doesn’t teach you anything about working on the systems themselves, but it’s very popular. They just rolled out a new update a couple of months ago that had some of the best graphics and control recreations that I’d ever seen, and I wanted to test my skills on the real thing.”

“And all of you believe that you can operate these consoles?” Jack asked slowly. “Just how common would that kind of skill be?”

“I suppose it’s something of a niche skill, sir, but the game has been out for a very, very long time. My grandfather played as a kid, and it was old back then. In the tournaments, you can have hundreds of really skilled people playing in the same simulation, and the fights are intense. In general, I suspect there are thousands of times that number with casual interest.”

“And each of you are skilled in the system you’re running now? Any of you play in these tournaments?”

The young man nodded. “All of us have, sir. That’s what drew us together. We got to talking about the game in the mess hall and discovered our shared passion.

“We asked Lieutenant Danek to upload a few scenarios for us, and we just gave one a test drive. I have to say that I’m amazed that the game came so close to the real controls. It’s like I’m sitting down at my custom console at home.”

Jack nodded slowly and began to smile. “And just how much control do you have over the scenarios that she set up?”

“We can customize them, sir. All we did today was take the ship out of orbit, move it around the system, and shoot up some asteroids. We didn’t even have any drone swarms. Like I said, just testing our skills at the consoles.”

Jack hit the comm controls built into the arm of his chair. “Engineering, this is the bridge.”

It took a few moments, but Danek answered. “Engineering. Go ahead, Commodore.”

“I’m here with a number of young people that seem to be playing a game. I have a few questions. Are all of the consoles locked out so that they’re not affecting any ship’s systems?”

“Yes, sir. I didn’t think you’d mind as nobody was using the bridge, and it provided an outlet for those that actually seemed to have some skill with the consoles. I’m recording everything so that I can try to learn how they’re doing what they’re doing. It’s not real-world experience, but it is experience.”

“Understood. I want to explicitly verify that nothing that happens on the bridge right now will affect the real world. I know that you said that it wouldn’t, but I’m about to do something that would get us all in a lot of trouble if it happened in real life.”

“I swear to you, sir, the entire bridge is set up in simulation mode. You could open fire on headquarters—if any of the weapon systems actually worked—and absolutely nothing would happen. If that’s what you need to do to blow off some steam, I’d wholeheartedly recommend it.”

Jack chuckled. “I think I can probably get by without shooting up headquarters, but you’ve reassured me, Lieutenant. Thank you. Bridge out.”

He looked around at the officer candidates and recruits staring at him with wide eyes. They had no idea what he intended to do, but his words told them something new was coming. He imagined that his smile as he took the command seat wasn’t very reassuring.

“Bring us to battle stations, Mister Calvo,” he said using his command voice. “Put the system plot on the main screen.”

All of them blinked at him for a moment before they scrambled back to their seats and started manipulating their controls. Moments later, the main screen changed to a plot that showed Hunter in orbit around Faust.

“Helm, take us out of orbit at maximum military speed. I want a close flyby of headquarters, but don’t put them in any danger.”

“Aye, sir,” Calvo said. “Fusion drives coming online. Thrust imminent.”

Maximum military speed was about eighty percent of flank speed. Flank speed was the engines going all-out, delivering everything they had.

Jack watched on the screen as the battleship began moving, curving slightly to pass to port of headquarters as she accelerated out of orbit. This would’ve been a dangerous maneuver to implement in the real world, but the officer candidate handled it as smoothly as someone who’d been flying this ship for years.

Hell, in simulations, he might have been.

“Clear of headquarters, sir,” Calvo said. “Increasing speed to maximum military acceleration. Heading, sir?”

“Can you add hostile units incoming to the simulation?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Do so.”

Moments later, the battle plot updated to show numerous clusters of incoming Locust drones. Jack decided to head into the heaviest of them. This wasn’t the time to tiptoe around. He wanted to see what these people could really do.

“Set course zero-five-three, three-two-seven,” he said evenly. “Flank speed.”

“Flank speed, aye, sir.”

“Gunners, bring your weapon systems online. Report status.”

A young woman with freckles and pale blonde hair turned to glance at him. “I’m acting as the lead gunner, sir. Recruit Amanda Harris. Everyone else is operating as sub gunners under my command.”

Jack wasn’t entirely sure what that meant, but he knew that with thousands of lasers and missile systems aboard the battleship, there had to be someone reporting and controlling the clusters of weapon systems. He’d run with that assumption until proven wrong.

“Understood, Harris,” Jack said. “Report your status.”

“All missile batteries loaded and ready, sir. Defensive lasers standing by.”

Jack pursed his lips. “Maybe I’m not completely up to speed on how the weapon systems on this ship work, recruit. Aren’t the lasers offensive as well?”

The young woman frowned slightly. “Sort of, sir. They’re meant to be the last line of defense against incoming drones. They’re more than capable of destroying the things, but their range isn’t as great as the missiles. Period tactical doctrine says we’re to use missiles for long-range engagements and lasers for close-in work.”

Jack hadn’t known that and filed the information away in case it ever became critical to their survival. He’d thought the lasers were just as hard-hitting at range as the missiles. He’d verify what she’d said, but for the moment, he’d run with it.

“Understood, recruit. How long until we’re within missile range?”

“We’ll be at extreme missile range in two minutes and twenty-five seconds, sir. I don’t recommend firing at that range as our accuracy is significantly degraded until we’re inside the primary missile envelope. That’s five minutes and twenty seconds from now.”

Jack nodded. “Engage as soon as we enter extreme missile range. We want to take out as many of them as possible before they get to Faust. We’ll be wasting missiles, but that’s just how the dice rolled this time.”

She looked less than convinced but didn’t argue. “Aye, sir.”

A clock appeared in the corner of the display and began counting down. Harris called out instructions to the gunners around her, and they began setting up firing solutions on their consoles for the missile launchers. She sounded experienced and professional, so Jack assumed that she’d done this sort of thing many times before.

He’d had officers serving in similar positions on active-duty that hadn’t sounded as confident as she did. It was almost surreal. These kids were acting as if they had the same level of experience as someone with decades of experience.

Again, as they’d been hardcore gamers, that might be accurate.

Harris gave the order when the timer hit zero, and Hunter opened fire. Missiles began streaming away on the plot. There were a lot of them.

It still wasn’t enough.

The next half hour was one of the most grueling combat simulations Jack had ever been in. The Locust drones swarmed them, and even emptying their missile batteries didn’t slow the locusts down. They charged into laser range and kept coming when the gunners cut their friends down.

The Locust drones had a significantly shorter range than his lasers, but thousands of them still made it through to strafe Hunter, taking out missile batteries and laser emplacements, as well as damaging the hull.

The engineering officer—rather, the officer candidate playing one—called out the damage and marshaled his simulated forces to perform damage control.

It really was like fighting a full-blown simulation aboard one of his previous commands. These people—these children—seemed unflappable.

They fought hard until the last of the drones was gone. His simulated ship was heavily damaged by the time the fight was over, but she’d survived and managed to shield Faust in the process.

As hectic as it had been for him, the fight had been worse for everyone else. He’d been playing while they were working their asses off under the eyes of a senior officer. They were wrung dry by the time the simulation ended.

“Well done, everyone,” Jack said. “We took far more damage than I’d have liked in the real world, but that was probably my fault. Shut everything down and go take a well-earned rest. Thank you for indulging me.”

“You’re a flag officer and the captain of this ship, sir,” Calvo said tiredly. “When you say jump, we jump.”

“Even so, Mister Calvo, well done to you and your people. Now get off my bridge, get something to eat, and get some sleep. You’re welcome back here anytime it’s not being used for something else. Go.”

After they left, Jack leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. These young people were a resource he’d never imagined. He was going to miss them when they were gone.

The best he could hope for was that they’d share some of their experience with his people before they departed. This wasn’t an active-duty ship, so he couldn’t hope to have any of them assigned to him later, but he’d use them while they were here.

He rose to his feet and sighed. He should get something to eat himself. Tomorrow was going to come far too soon.

29

Jack awoke with a start when his comm unit started screaming. The noise was loud enough to wake the dead, which was kind of the point of an emergency alert.

He sat up, grabbed the comm, and answered, planting his bare feet on the cold deck. “Romanoff.”

“Sir, this is traffic control. Something is going on aboard headquarters, and I think you’d best come to operations immediately.”

That made Jack blink. Had Nastasi already acted? That was fast.

“On my way. Romanoff out.”

It only took a couple of minutes for him to dress and make it to operations. It was a small warren surrounding a chamber that was even bigger than the bridge. Until just a week ago, it hadn’t even had an atmosphere, and most of the consoles still weren’t functional, but this was where they’d temporarily relocated traffic control.

Rather than using the largest compartment, they’d decided on one of the ancillary support rooms with half a dozen consoles, even though only one person was on duty at a time. Well, one active-duty Navy person and a couple of recruits or officer candidates.

There was an able spacer manning the console and a pair of recruits assisting. And by assisting, he meant watching and learning so that they could potentially relieve some of the load.

“What’s going on?” he asked as he made his way over to the console.

The able spacer—Tom Sexton—turned to face him. “A cruiser came through the quantum gate about ten minutes ago and began transmitting something to headquarters. Now they’ve got every cruiser boosting for the quantum gate at maximum acceleration. I’m not sure exactly what that means, but it seemed like something you’d want to know about, sir.”

Jack frowned as he stared at the console and the screen above it. The plot showed four cruisers moving toward the gate, and they weren’t dawdling. Neither was a fifth cruiser almost at the gate. Whatever was going on, it was serious.

“Did you record the transmission?”

“Yes, sir, but it was encrypted. We decided that we’d keep a copy of every transmission we received, even those that weren’t destined for us or that we couldn’t read. The computers have plenty of storage, and we figured it might come in handy at some point.”

“Good thinking,” Jack said and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Shunt the transmission to me.”

He took a seat at another console and tried to figure out how to bring up the transmission. Sadly, he had to ask one of the recruits to help him. The layout of these old consoles was still strange to him.

It only took a couple of moments for the recruit to bring up the transmission. It was on one of the small displays adjacent to the console itself. There was a place where one could enter the appropriate decryption password.

Jack hadn’t gotten any new codes as a flag officer, but he still had the one he’d used as a cruiser captain. Unless this was something really secret, it might be sufficient to decrypt the transmission.

It certainly couldn’t hurt to try.

After entering his key, the transmission decrypted, and he was looking onto a cruiser’s bridge. He didn’t recognize the commanding officer, but the ship was listed as Portsmouth in text underneath the transmission.

The man looked grim. “Headquarters, this is Portsmouth. We’re declaring a class one emergency. I say again, we’re declaring a class one emergency. Locust drones have entered the Perseus Cluster and are attacking the defensive force stationed there. They came in overwhelming numbers, and I’m not sure how long the defenders can hold out without support. Complete tactical data incoming on a separate channel.”

Jack felt his jaw drop. Of all the emergencies he might have expected, this was the absolute worst case. It looked as if the professor had been right. If only they’d been able to get Hunter back into shape before his fears had come true.

Someone aboard headquarters responded and had the captain stand by. A couple of minutes later, Vice Admiral LaChasse came on the channel and asked for more details.

Jack brought up the data stream and decrypted it. It seemed that the drones had struck in the same system that they first invaded so long ago. Only this time, they’d known about the quantum gates and had seized the gate in that system immediately, then spread out to other systems in the cluster before they could be stopped.

No information was available about the defense forces there because they’d been trapped. They’d probably already been destroyed if he was honest.

The planet had significant orbital defenses, so perhaps it could hold out, but Jack wasn’t holding his breath. If the Locusts really had come in force, they could swamp them.

Admiral LaChasse had instructed Portsmouth to head for one of the nearby systems to rouse the cruisers stationed there. That had always been the plan. Ships would spread the alarm from headquarters and summon the Navy to battle.

Using quantum gates, it would only take a few days for word to spread throughout the sector, and they’d be able to get every ship in place to counterattack in relatively short order.

“Were there any other transmissions from headquarters?” Jack asked.

“There was one to the other cruisers right before they left,” Sexton said. “Sending it to your station now.”

This transmission was also encrypted, but it accepted Jack’s codes. As soon the screen cleared, he saw Admiral LaChasse. She was standing on the bridge of a cruiser.

“The Locusts have returned and are invading the Perseus Cluster. I’m therefore declaring emergency condition Gamma to be in effect. Contingency orders for all ships are hereby activated. Proceed to your rally points at your best speed.

“I’m relocating to the quantum gate leading into the Perseus Cluster and assuming personal command of the defensive forces. Once you’ve notified the people on your list, I expect every cruiser to head there and arrive to defend the Confederation within seven days.

“This is the fight we’ve been training for, people. We stop them now, and we do it hard. LaChasse out.”

Jack fought the urge to bury his face in his hands. He wanted to do something, but he was utterly helpless. Hunter wasn’t in any condition to fight, and he didn’t have orders to do so in any case.

“Was this all, Sexton?”

“Yes, sir.”

He sounded scared, and Jack couldn’t blame him. Only complete idiots wouldn’t be frightened of a situation like this.

“Good work,” Jack said evenly. “Keep this information to yourself while I figure out exactly what we’re going to do about it.”

Jack rose and headed for the office in his suite. Once there, he brought up the battleship division’s contingency plans and began reading.

As expected, an invasion was one of those high-priority items listed right up front. Admiral LaChasse had no authority to give him or his ship orders, so she couldn’t activate Hunter, but the invasion did impact him.

With the Confederation being invaded, his ship was ordered to active status, as was the rest of the battleship division. As the commanding officer of the battleship division, he was to direct his ships to repel the invasion.

The orders were so old that they didn’t even direct him to defer to the existing naval structure. Back in those days, the battleships were the only vessels that could fight the Locusts, and it was assumed that the most senior Admiral would be in command.

That definitely wasn’t the case any longer, but at least his orders were clear. But even with that authority, what could he do? His ship hadn’t left orbit in centuries, and most of its systems were decrepit, nonfunctional, or only haphazardly repaired.

They didn’t even have the training to run the consoles to move the ship. He had no helmsman or weapons officers other than the trainees on loan from the academies. Without them, his people just didn’t have what it took to fight the ship.

Even with them, they didn’t have what it took to conduct combat operations. There were no missiles aboard, and he felt confident that the lasers had been deactivated at some point in the past as well. Without weapons, Hunter was just a giant asteroid with engines.

There was a rap on his doorframe, and he looked up to find David Chen and Christine Hooghuis.

“I thought the Marines were supposed to keep visitors out of my quarters,” he grumbled.

“I’m your steward, so I have automatic access,” Chen said as he entered the office. “They didn’t argue when I said that Christine was with me. I figured that we needed to speak with you immediately now that events are in motion.”

“I told them to keep the information to themselves,” Jack said, annoyed.

“Reserve your anger for those that deserve it,” Chen said. He sat in one of the chairs in front of the desk.

“The news came from my wife aboard headquarters. It’s already spreading there like wildfire. While I’m absolutely certain that it’s going to leak here as well, this isn’t the time to be yelling at your crew. Of course they’re going to tell everyone they know that the Locusts are back.

“According to the information that Tina obtained, the number of drones being used in the current invasion is significantly higher than what was present last time. I’m not a naval strategist, but that gives me great concern that the forces arrayed in the Perseus Cluster are insufficient. What do we do about it?”

Jack gestured at the computer screen built into his desk. “I was just reading my contingency orders, and I have the authority to reactivate all of the battleships and put them on a war footing. Hell, I’m directed to.”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, I don’t know that that’s going to make a single bit of difference. Hutton already told me that they don’t have any missiles aboard headquarters. Lord only knows where those were diverted to, but we’re not going to be able to find anything like them on Faust.

“It’s conceivable that the equipment we need to activate the lasers is somewhere aboard headquarters, but from what I’m told, the lasers are only defensive weapons. They’re powerful but short range. We wouldn’t be able to take the fight to the enemy with just them, even if we had enough crew to fight the ship, which we don’t.”

“What do you mean you don’t have enough crew to fight the ship?” Christine asked from where she stood behind Chen’s seat. “The corridors are absolutely packed with recruits and officer candidates. Surely they count for something.”

“Those people aren’t under my command, and even if they were, they’re untrained and green. If I took them into a real fight, I’d be signing their death warrants.”

“And what happens when the Locusts arrive at Faust?” Chen asked levelly. “If my fears are proven correct, they’re going to break out of the Perseus Cluster in short order. They almost certainly have the power to destroy every space-based asset in the Confederation if the Navy can’t stop them.

“We don’t know what their ultimate goals are, but we should assume the worst case scenario, don’t you think? If they control space and start dropping kinetic weapons on every occupied world, they can exterminate us with impunity, and we can’t fight back.”

He raised his eyebrows meaningfully. “Would those young people prefer to cower on Faust waiting for death or fighting this ship with a chance, however small, to save humanity?”

Jack opened his mouth to say something and then reconsidered. Maybe Chen was right. In their shoes, he’d rather die with a weapon in his hand, even if death was inevitable.

“Let’s say that you’re right. The naval and marine academies aren’t subject to my authority. I can’t just wave my hand and reassign everyone to this ship.”

“You have contingency plans that give you orders about what you should do under certain circumstances, including an invasion,” Christine said reasonably. “Wouldn’t the academies have similar instructions? Those are Navy and Marine personnel. What are they supposed to do if there’s an invasion?”

Jack had no idea and no way of finding out other than contacting someone on the surface. It was the middle of the night at the academies, and he was certain that neither the admiral nor the general would welcome his news.

Still, he owed it to them to let them know.

He pulled out his comm and scrolled to the numbers that the admiral and general had given him for use under normal circumstances and then found the ones that were reserved for emergencies.

If this didn’t qualify as an emergency, he didn’t know what did.

He initiated a three-way call and waited for them to answer. At this moment, their comms would be screaming like his had earlier, announcing an emergency that couldn’t be ignored.

Seconds later, both of them had answered.

“Admiral, General, this is Jack Romanoff. I apologize for waking you, but word has just arrived that the Locusts have invaded the Perseus Cluster.”

He paused for just a moment to let that sink in. “According to the initial reports, their numbers are significantly greater than during the first invasion. Vice Admiral LaChasse has taken every cruiser in the system and headed for the quantum gate leading to the cluster.

“My contingency orders direct me to step Delta Orionis up to a war footing. As of this moment, she is once again an active-duty naval warship, but I sorely lack crew, critical supplies, and equipment.”

He took a deep breath and jumped into the most important part of his pitch. “I need to know what the contingency orders are for your students because the only way this ship is going to fight is if they stay here and risk their lives along with my regular crew.”

Jack expected pushback. These two were responsible for the safety of their students, and he knew that he’d need to argue his case strongly if he intended to change their minds.

“You have my recruits, officer candidates, and instructors,” Schroeder said instantly. “We’d rather fight the enemy than wait for them to come to us. Those people signed their choices away when they joined.”

Jack let out a sigh of relief. They just might be able to make something work after all if Admiral Valenciano did likewise.

“I wish I could go with them,” the general said, “but my responsibilities lie here. Their instructors will have to form their command structure, under your direction, of course.

“As for equipment and supplies, if I have sufficient time, I can empty the armories at the Academy and have everything shipped up to you. I can probably get my hands on some active-duty Marines to stiffen your forces as well. How long can you give me?”

“I’d like to be in motion within twelve hours. Anything you can get me in that timeframe would be greatly appreciated because I doubt very seriously that I’m going to be able to find any supplies once I leave orbit. Dig deep, general.”

Even as he said it, he knew it was ridiculous. There was no way he could get the equipment to rearm the lasers in that time, much less be ready for space. Still, he had no time to waste.

“How can the Navy do any less?” Valenciano asked rhetorically. “As George said, the instructors will have to provide the backbone for any command structure, but you have my recruits and officer candidates.

“Even if I could go, I’m not sure my presence would be of any help to you. You’re the senior officer on that ship, and you don’t need generals and admirals staring over your shoulder. This is your fight, Commodore.”

“I appreciate what you’re doing for us,” Jack said, not bothering to hide the relief in his voice. “It’s a good start, but we’ll need a lot more to get this ship ready to fight in such a short time.”

“With Vice Admiral LaChasse out of the system, that leaves Rear Admiral Philbin in charge,” Valenciano said. “I’ll see if I can get more assistance from him. Get your ship ready to fight, Commodore. The Confederation is counting on you. Valenciano out.”

“Schroeder out.”

Jack rubbed his face. He hadn’t expected to get their support so readily. Their support didn’t make all of his problems go away, but it at least gave him a fighting chance to get Hunter to the conflict, where she could make a difference.

“Come with me,” he told the others as he rose and headed for the door. He caught the movement of one of the drones out of the corner of his eye and remembered that everything was being recorded. Part of him quailed at that, but he didn’t have time to worry about how he looked.

He led the way to the bridge and sat down in the command chair. The commanding officer didn’t have a full console like his subordinates, but the chair’s arms did have certain small sections of controls that allowed the flag officer to do those tasks that fell to him.

It took him a moment to find the alert button, flip up the manual cover, and press it firmly. Raucous klaxons began sounding throughout the ship, and the lighting took on a reddish hue that didn’t interfere with vision but made it clear that the ship was at battle stations.

That done, Jack activated the ship-wide communication system in emergency mode. It would send his voice to every functional speaker, as well as every comm unit that was registered in the computer system. Unlike his earlier call, this one would broadcast even if the owner of the comm owner failed to answer.

“All hands, this is Commodore Romanoff. The Locusts have invaded the Perseus Cluster, and Hunter has been reactivated. With the concurrence of the Naval and Marine academies, all recruits and officer candidates are hereby reassigned to Delta Orionis for the duration of this conflict.

“If you’re a civilian, you need to head back down to Faust as quickly as possible. Thank you for your assistance, but it seems that we’ve run out of time.”

He took a deep breath and pushed on. “While we hope that the new technology developed by the Confederation is enough to stave off Locusts, we can’t count on it. We’re going to be reactivating as many weapon systems as possible, and we’ll continue the repairs en route to the Perseus Cluster.

“Until you hear otherwise, I need everyone up and working around the clock. We leave orbit in twelve hours, and we don’t have one single second to waste.

“The personnel who were running simulations on the bridge are to return at once and wait for orders. Those are your new stations. Continue to run simulations. You’re going to need the practice. Romanoff out.”

“That was a good speech,” Christine said as soon as he finished. “Not too preachy and right to the point. Do you think Hunter is going to be ready in such a short time?”

“Ready or not, Hunter is going to war,” he said grimly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to go to engineering and kick over a hornet’s nest. David, if you could make sure that Christine gets back down to the surface, I’d be in your debt.”

“Oh, hell no!” she declared loudly. “You want me to miss the opportunity to document this ship going back to war against the Locusts? That’s not happening.”

He stopped, surprised at her resistance. “This ship isn’t exactly in the greatest shape. If you come with us, the odds of never coming home again are significant.”

“Which part of me wanting to be a war correspondent did you miss? Someone has to be there to document what’s happening, whether we win or lose, and that’s going to be me.”

Jack wanted to argue, but he forced himself to shrug. “It’s your life. Everyone will be working their asses off, which means that you need to stay out of the way. Record if you like, but don’t slow anyone down. If you get in the way, I’ll have you on a cutter so fast it’ll make your head spin. Clear?”

“Absolutely clear, Commodore,” she said without a hint of sarcasm or condescension.

Satisfied, Jack headed for engineering. The main corridor was already swarming with people racing to what they thought of as their repair or duty stations. It was chaos.

Maybe with practice, it would become organized chaos, but that wasn’t the case now. This was bedlam.

Jack made his way to the side of the passage and bulled through anyone incautious enough to get in his way. Then his Marine guards—which he’d forgotten again—were there and making a hole for him with shouts and shoves.

Danek needed to get the bridge fully operational. She also needed to make sure that the operations center was brought online as rapidly as possible.

And, of course, the weapons.

Hell, every system on the ship was important, but those were going to be critical when they started fighting. He knew that she was going to tell him it was impossible. Nevertheless, that was what they needed, and that’s what was going to happen.

They’d fix what they could and jury rig what they couldn’t. If a system couldn’t be brought online at all, they’d have to live without it.

If the ship had been going through quantum gates to the Perseus Cluster, it would’ve taken a bit more than a week to get there. Being able to form her own quantum tunnels would probably allow Hunter to shave a day off that.

If the engines worked.

All of this might be for nothing if their quantum drive failed, so he needed to be sure it didn’t.

It sounded like he needed to get additional engineering personnel aboard. One more thing for him to work on as soon as he had Danek fully read in. Ready or not, they were going to war.

30

On the way to engineering, Jack called his father. He took secret pleasure in waking him in the middle of the night. It was petty, but he could live with that.

Once Jack had him on the line, he succinctly laid out what he’d learned and requested every assistance in getting what he needed to leave orbit in twelve hours. Even though his father wasn’t a grand admiral any longer, he was a senior politician with a lot of pull. That would have to do.

He didn’t mention Nastasi because the channel might be monitored, and she already had enough problems on the horizon.

His father promised to do everything he could, but he wasn’t sure what that would actually end up being. Without waiting for a response, he disconnected and left Jack to put his house in order.

Twelve hours wasn’t much time to get a ship that hadn’t been active moving again. With the propulsion system alone, there was so much that could go wrong. They could thrust and have the fusion drives malfunction or fail outright. They could draw on the power produced by the operable fusion plants and cause problems with them, which would strand them just as effectively.

And there were certainly other things he hadn’t even considered yet. This was insanity, but he didn’t have a choice.

With any luck, the technological advances made by the Confederation would be enough to handle the invasion. He wasn’t going to hold his breath, but it was always possible.

He arrived in engineering to find it a hive of activity. They didn’t have many engineers, but there were plenty of recruits with technical knowledge that could assist them with repairs and testing.

It seemed as if all of them were running around yelling at one another.

Standing in the center of the maelstrom was Lieutenant Danek. She directed them calmly, holding up her hand to forestall Jack when he approached. Being the wise commander he was, he let her finish giving her instructions.

As soon as she turned to face him, she cut him off. “I think I’ve got the general picture from your announcement, sir. If we’re going to be leaving orbit in twelve hours, I’ve got a lot of work to do and not much time to make the magic happen. I need more engineers—real engineers—and I need them now.”

“Give me some details to work with.”

She half-turned and gestured toward the engineering space. “None of our engines have been used in more than two centuries. Sure, the quantum drive checks out as functional, and so do the fusion drives, but as soon as we push them, it’s almost certain that something will break.

“Even if it doesn’t, we need the full output of two fusion plants for the quantum drive to jump us. Of Hunter’s four fusion plants, two are marginally operational, one is potentially functional, and one is beyond my ability to repair without a full teardown and rebuild. I need parts and people familiar with fusion systems so I can get that third one online if we’re to have any redundancy whatsoever.”

“What about our weapon systems?”

“You’ll need to talk to your tactical officer about that—if you have one, of course. None of the laser or missile batteries have been inspected since the ship was brought here and they were disabled. The fire control modules were removed when Hunter was mothballed, so you’re going to have to check with the logistics department aboard headquarters.

“Even if you can get the fire control modules back, we’re going to have to reinstall them, test all the power runs, and then put the equipment through its paces to make sure that nothing fails. If the lasers go down, we’re going to have to have someone trained to bring them back online again, and that’s a system the Navy hasn’t used in a hundred years. Same with the missile batteries.”

She shook her head and grimaced. “Sir, there are probably ten thousand laser batteries. Add to that at least a thousand missile batteries, and you see the scale of the problem. Even if we had trained people, we couldn’t have most of them operational by the time we got to the Perseus Cluster. If we get into a fight, we’ll be mostly unarmed.”

That wasn’t what Jack wanted to hear, but it was about what he’d expected.

“I understand that, but we don’t have a choice, Lieutenant,” he said evenly. “The Confederation needs us, so you need to prioritize the things that absolutely must get done to make us combat capable.

“I’ll try to get you what you need to reactivate the weapons. If we can’t do at least that, we might as well not leave orbit. As for the rest, we’ll just have to make do.”

Jack grimaced slightly. “If I had an executive officer, I’d have you tell them everything you’re doing so that they can coordinate for me. I don’t, so use David Chen for that purpose. He’s not a naval officer, but let’s utilize him as a clearinghouse to get me the information I need without overwhelming me.”

Danek nodded. “Will do, sir. Do you think we can actually beat the Locusts?”

“I think that we don’t have a choice. I have absolutely no idea what we’ll find when we get to the Perseus Cluster, but we’re going to make a difference one way or the other. That’s what this ship was built for, and that’s what we gave our oaths to the Confederation to do. We won’t fail them.”

And with that, he headed for the bridge. He had a makeshift crew to operate the ship, and he needed to know if they were capable of doing the job. Lives would depend on how well they turned their gaming skills into actual combat operations.

When he arrived at the bridge, he found it packed with people. Far more than had been there before. He stopped at the hatch and surveyed them with a frown.

“What’s going on here?”

Officer Candidate Calvo stepped to the front of the crowd and braced to attention. “Sir! These are all the people I could find on short notice who have experience with Locust War Online. Not all of them are tournament quality, but we’re a little short on numbers. I’ve got some feelers out for more help, but that’s going to take time if you approve me pulling them in.”

At a rough estimate, there were between seventy and eighty people on the bridge. That was still short of what they needed to operate in shifts, not to mention having an operations team to direct everything behind the scenes.

Everybody seemed to think that the people on the bridge did all the work, but that wasn’t the case at all. Each bridge position had a team of specialists working in operations to help them pare down the vast amount of data and options into something manageable. Fighting a ship like this was a team effort, and he didn’t have a team.

Well, at least he didn’t have a very big one.

“Whatever it takes to get as many trained people as possible on this has my enthusiastic approval,” Jack said. “Now, everyone listen up. As I said in the announcement, we’ll be leaving orbit in less than twelve hours, and then we’ll be traveling for about a week. That means you have seven days to practice so you can fight.

“The operations center has an atmosphere, but we’ll need to pry a couple of engineering technicians loose to make sure that the consoles are functional. You’ll have to work out who does what, but I need three shifts for the bridge and support elements. I don’t care how you do it. I’m placing Calvo in command of that organization.

“As of this moment, all officer candidates are acting midshipmen, and all recruits are acting able spacers. If we survive this fight, we’ll see about making the ranks permanent, but first, we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

He waved Calvo forward. The new midshipman’s face was grave. “I know this is a lot to put on you, but I need you to make this work. If you have any problems, contact my steward David Chen, and he’ll take care of it, if it can be done. Understood?”

Calvo nodded resolutely. “We won’t let you down, sir.”

“Good man. Now, take your people to the operations center and get this sorted out. I want a minimum bridge crew on station within the hour. If we have to move the ship or perform any other functions, a warship needs a team capable of doing so.

“Stop by supply and get some real uniforms too. You’re officially Hunter crew now, everyone needs to be in the right uniform. Someone down there will be able to point you in the right direction, but you’re going to have to figure how to fit them for yourselves. Make it happen, Midshipman Calvo.”

He stiffened to attention for a moment and then ordered everyone off the bridge. No one said anything, and many of them were pale, but they were going to be his strong right arm.

God help them all.

With that out of the way, he turned his attention to headquarters. He needed a lot of supplies, and he needed the fire control modules. Rear Admiral Valenciano had said she’d try to make inroads with Rear Admiral Philbin. It was time to see just how difficult this was going to be.

It took him almost fifteen minutes to figure out the communication console well enough to send a video feed of himself seated in the command chair to headquarters. The first obstacle he hit was the admiral’s secretary.

The young lieutenant was the same man who’d been doing the job for Vice Admiral LaChasse. Based on his expression, he wasn’t pleased to see Jack.

“I need to speak to Admiral Philbin,” Jack said without waiting for him to speak. “It’s urgent.”

“The admiral gave me specific instructions not to be disturbed. With Admiral LaChasse gone, he’s got to organize the follow-up supply chain for combat operations and doesn’t have time to deal with extraneous issues.”

Jack smiled without the slightest bit of humor. “According to my contingency orders, Delta Orionis is now in active service again. As an active-duty warship—the only active-duty warship in this system, I might add—I also have needs. Put. Me. Through.”

For a moment, he didn’t think the lieutenant would do it, but he finally shrugged and blanked the screen. Ten seconds later, a very irritated Rear Admiral Philbin appeared on the main screen.

“Whatever your game is, Romanoff, I don’t have time for it. My aide should’ve told you that. I’m busy conducting follow-up combat operations, and that does not include your museum.”

“Delta Orionis was a mothballed warship, Admiral,” Jack said. “On my contingency orders, she is reactivated. Those orders also direct me to move expeditiously to directly confront the Locusts, and I need support from headquarters.

“The fire control modules for my weapons are somewhere over there. I’ll need them and every loose engineering specialist you have, as well as someone to coordinate getting me the supplies necessary to keep my ship in working order during extended combat operations. I’ll send you my orders so you can verify them.”

Jack—grateful that he’d set this up in advance—forwarded the relevant sections of his contingency orders and their authentication codes to headquarters.

The admiral’s eyes scanned the screen, his frown deepening.

“I don’t have time for historical curiosities,” Philbin said with a shake of his head. “Your ship is not an active-duty warship—no matter what you think—and you aren’t going anywhere. If you keep bothering me, I’ll send the shore patrol to arrest you. Stand down, Romanoff.”

The screen blanked, and Jack cursed.

Well, that certainly couldn’t have gone worse.

Philbin’s rejection didn’t change Jack’s problem, though. At a minimum, he had to have the fire control modules. Everything else was negotiable, but he wouldn’t be able to fight his ship without those.

Somehow, he was going to have to get them in spite of Rear Admiral Philbin, and he was going to have to do it in a hurry.

31

Sadly, no grand plans presented themselves

And worse, Rear Admiral Philbin knew that Jack wanted them and was almost guaranteed to cause trouble if the operation came to his attention.

The best solution was to make certain that Philbin was never aware of their presence aboard headquarters at all. The admiral had a lot on his plate. If Jack and his people could get in and out quickly, they might be able to get away undetected.

Jack realized that was probably a forlorn hope, but if he didn’t have the fire control modules, there was no way Hunter could make a difference in the fight, so they’d make it work. Somehow.

The first step in executing something sneaky is speaking with someone experienced in this type of operation, which meant Tina Chen. Unfortunately, she didn’t answer her comm. The next best option was her husband.

It only took a couple of minutes to locate his steward. He was directing the storage of incoming supplies. They were haphazardly packing everything into any available space because they had no choice. The entire storage area would need to be reorganized to be useful, but that had to wait until they were underway.

When Chen saw Jack, he finished the conversation he was having with some of the recruits helping him. They looked like children playing dress up in the old-style uniforms.

It tore at his heart to be taking them to war where they might be maimed or die, but it wasn’t as if the Locusts had given them any kind of choice. It was do or die in the most literal sense.

Chen turned to face him when he’d finished giving his instructions. “I’ve spoken with the people on Faust and received assurances that they’ll have everything they can provide delivered before our scheduled departure from orbit.”

Jack nodded. “Good, but that’s not why I’m here. I contacted headquarters to get the fire control modules for the lasers and the missile launchers. Rear Admiral Philbin told me that he wouldn’t turn them over to us and that we aren’t allowed to leave orbit.”

He grinned. “Orders we shall be ignoring. All of the warships normally assigned here are deployed, and while headquarters is armed, they can’t deliver enough damage to do more than scratch Hunter’s proverbial paint.

“We need to get into the logistics department and get our hands on the fire control modules. That sounds like something that’s right up your wife’s alley, but she’s not answering my calls.”

Chen smiled knowingly. “She’s working on something with Commodore Nastasi. I’m afraid she’s not going to be available for a bit, so perhaps I can assist. What’s your plan?”

“It’s not so much a plan as a vague idea of how this could be carried out. That’s why I need a professional’s input. When I present my completely valid orders, my suspicion is that they’ll try to contact Philbin to get his concurrence, and that’s where we’re going to run into trouble. If we can somehow short-circuit that, maybe we can avoid trouble. The perfect solution gets us everything we need before Philbin realizes what we’ve done. Do you have any ideas?”

The steward tapped his finger on his chin for a couple of seconds. “I do have an idea. There is an element of risk, and if they get wind of what we’re doing, the shore patrol will arrest us because we’ll actually be breaking some laws.”

“At this point, I’m willing to try anything. You wanted moral flexibility? I’m all in.”

“We’re going to need Hutton to take us to headquarters, and there’s at least one other crew member that we’ll need to bring along,” Chen said. “I’ll get everyone together and meet you in the small craft bay in twenty minutes.

“Practice your best scowl. If you can intimidate them and my trick works, I think both of those things together will be key in getting what we need and escaping without being arrested.”

Jack scowled at him, leaning forward and channeling his angry commanding officer look.

Chen laughed. “Okay, that’s perfect. I’ll see you in the small craft bay.”

Jack spent a couple of minutes making sure his uniform was in order. He was going to be at a disadvantage anyway, and the fact that he was wearing a nonstandard uniform to begin with might cause problems.

He considered changing into his regular uniform but decided against it. Being in the wrong one was something that could be used against him in a court-martial, if it ever came to that. Proof of deceptive intent.

Once he was confident that he was as prepared as possible, he went down to the small craft bay and found several people already gathered at one of the cutters. Hutton, of course. Nicole Ashford, the petty officer working in the mess hall was with him.

Interesting. What role would she play in their little drama?

He nodded to the pair of them as he approached. “Hutton, Ashford. Any idea what the plan is?”

“Not a clue, sir,” Hutton said. “I’m going to wager that it’s something devious. Mister Chen strikes me as a man who likes to pull tricks. He also seems like he’s good at it.”

“I certainly hope so. If he’s not, we’re all going to end up in the brig.”

He was about to ask another question when Chen came into the small craft bay and headed directly into the cutter. He had a satchel over his shoulder large enough to be an overnight bag.

Jack wondered what was in it. Equipment? Costuming? There was no telling.

“What exactly is the plan?” Jack asked as soon as they were on their way.

Chen opened his bag and pulled out a regular Navy uniform. Jack expected it to be for him, but it was for Ashford. It had a lieutenant’s tabs.

So much for his idea about avoiding impersonating something that they weren’t. It looked like they were going to be playing this game in a more dangerous way than he’d anticipated.

So be it.

“This is for Nicole. She’s going to be the replacement for Rear Admiral Philbin’s aide. I don’t know that her assistance will be required, but if it is, it’s best to have someone who can credibly deflect any calls for clarification.

“We’re going to set her up in an empty office, and I’m going to hack my way into the communication system. Any outgoing calls from the logistics department to Admiral Philbin’s office will be redirected to Nicole. It’s going to be her job to make sure that they don’t actually speak to him.

“Having dealt with Nicole over the last few weeks, I’m utterly confident in her ability to make someone regret their life choices. Do you feel like you can accomplish this, Nicole?”

The young petty officer grinned. “Oh, I think I’ll be able to manage. I should probably get changed now, so I’ll go to the back of the compartment. Eyes front, gentlemen.”

Jack smiled and made sure he was facing forward. “We’re still going to have to convince them to give us what we need. Hutton, what have you got for us?”

The supply man produced a sheaf of printed papers, holding them up over his shoulder without turning his head and risking Ashford’s wrath.

“These are requisitions for the fire control modules, including spares. There’s nothing in presenting them that would get us in trouble, but I expect some pushback because logistics is in flux right now. The arrests in the supply depot have everybody on edge, and they’re going to look at this paperwork real close.”

He tapped the side of his head with his index finger. “One of the positive aspects of this is that they know you were responsible for bringing down the supply depot crew. They’re going to be hesitant about causing too much trouble because if they do, there’s no telling what you might do.

“You’ve got a reputation now, sir, and you need to use it. If they try to hold back, lean on them hard.”

“I can work with that,” Jack said.

The best outcome would be if they could do this without having anyone call the admiral’s office. Sadly, he didn’t anticipate that that was how things were going to play out.

No. They’d almost certainly have to deal with the admiral one way or the other. His preference would be as they were boosting out of the system.

Instead of landing at the main small craft bay, they detoured to a smaller auxiliary bay near logistics.

Hutton rose from the controls as soon as the cutter was shut down and looked to Ashford, who was now fully dressed. “Give us a couple of minutes before you and Mister Chen get out,” he said. “We’ll draw attention because of our uniforms. You’ll want to make sure no one connects you with us.”

She nodded. “Got it.”

Jack led the way out of the cutter, accepting Hutton’s directions when he subtly shifted them toward an exit. He walked tall, with his shoulders back and his eyes forward as if he were a sailing ship cutting across ocean waves.

The personnel that saw them stopped in their tracks and stared, just like Hutton had anticipated. Score one for their team in planning ahead.

It only took them a couple of minutes to get them to the right place, and Jack was starting to wonder if they needed to slow down when his comm chimed.

“Romanoff.”

“Everything is prepared, Commodore,” Chen said. “You may proceed.”

“Thank you,” he said and disconnected.

He certainly hoped that everything went according to plan, but he was mentally ready for it all to go to hell. Taking a deep breath, he followed Hutton into the logistics area and up to one of the counters.

The man behind it wore a chief petty officer’s tabs and scowled when he saw Jack. Obviously, his reputation had preceded him.

“What can I do for you, Commodore Romanoff?” he asked with a hint of resentment in his tone.

Jack took the papers from Hutton and slid them across the counter to him without saying anything. “Here are requisitions for my fire control modules. My ship is about to depart for the Perseus Cluster, and I’ll need them immediately. All of them.”

The man barely glanced at the paperwork before shaking his head. “We don’t release this kind of thing without authorization from senior staff. Do you have anything from the admiral’s office authorizing this?”

“No, and I don’t require it. The battleship division is not under headquarters. My authorization is the only one you require. The clock is ticking, Chief Petty Officer. Make some magic happen.”

The man smiled in a manner that said he was happy to obstruct Jack. “Can’t do that, sir. I’m going to have to call the admiral’s office and get at least verbal authorization to start the process.”

Jack sighed. “Fine. Hurry up.”

He turned one of the monitors so Jack could see it and input a series of numbers. The screen cleared a moment later and brought up Nicole Ashford behind a desk in her fake lieutenant’s uniform.

“Admiral Philbin’s office. Hold, please.”

The screen reverted to the Navy seal. Ashford hadn’t even waited for him to speak before putting him on hold. She really did know how to put people in their place. Much to Jack’s chagrin, she kept them on hold for almost two full minutes before she cleared the screen.

“Sorry for the wait,” she said without sounding the least bit sorry. “Please proceed.”

“This is Chief Petty Officer Ryan in logistics. I have Commodore Romanoff here requisitioning fire control modules. Standard procedure says that we have to have the admiral endorse that.”

Ashford sighed almost theatrically. “Commodore Romanoff was just here and got the admiral’s permission. Admiral Philbin is an extremely busy man and doesn’t have time to keep dealing with this issue. Haven’t you heard that there’s an invasion?”

The door behind Ashford opened slightly. “I’m starving. Hold all my calls while I eat. The next person that bothers me gets docked a grade. I’m not kidding.”

When the door slammed shut, Ashford smiled sweetly at Ryan. “The admiral is a little busy right now, but I’d be happy to put you through to him if you insist.”

Ryan, who was sweating, swallowed hard and shook his head jerkily. “You said that the admiral approved this, and that’s good enough for me. Thank you.”

He killed the connection and turned to Jack. “I’ll start getting everything together for you, Commodore. It’s probably going to take a couple of hours to get everything ready.”

“What’s going on here?” a voice behind Jack asked before he could respond.

He turned and saw Rear Admiral Philbin in the doorway. Behind him stood two members of the shore patrol with cold smiles on their faces. Their last-ditch plan had failed.

32

“Well, well, well,” Philbin said with a thin smile as he surveyed Jack. “What do we have here? I told you that you weren’t authorized to draw any fire control modules from logistics, did I not, Romanoff?”

Jack knew that the best course of action was keeping his mouth shut. Absolutely nothing that he said would make the slightest bit of difference, and he could only dig himself deeper by arguing with the admiral.

Still, he was in the right, and he needed to get that on the record.

“As you already know, Admiral, the battleship division does not fall under the command of headquarters. You have no authority to keep me from the parts assigned to me now that my ship and division have been recalled to active service. Under my contingency orders—which I already sent you—I’m asking you to step aside and allow me to ready my ship to defend the Confederation against the Locusts.”

If his words bothered Philbin, it didn’t show. He smiled urbanely and gestured for the shore patrol to proceed. “Arrest them. The charges are disobedience of a flag officer and attempted theft. We can add more charges as this proceeds.”

“Sir,” Petty Officer Ryan said hesitantly. “I tried calling your office and got your aide or someone pretending to be them. They said that you’d approved this transfer.”

Philbin’s smile widened. “Oh, this is going to be even more enjoyable. We can add conspiracy to the list. I’ve got to tell you that I didn’t anticipate having any entertainment while playing caretaker for Admiral LaChasse, but you’ve certainly delivered, Romanoff. Let’s see how many years in the brig we can get you by the time she gets home, shall we?”

The shore patrol handcuffed Jack and Hutton before marching them to the all-too-familiar interrogation room. Lieutenant Randall, the officer that had harassed him aboard Hunter, was there as well.

“I can’t begin to tell you how happy I am to see you, Commodore,” Randall said with a wide smile. “You escaped your just desserts last time. I’m going to make sure that you don’t get away this time. What are the charges, Admiral?”

“Refusing to obey a direct order from a flag officer, attempted theft, and conspiracy. I’m sure he’s guilty of plenty of other crimes though. We’re going to have to amuse ourselves by making the list as long as possible because I don’t want to see him escape any of the justice he’s earned.”

“Justice,” a voice said from behind the admiral. Jack looked over the man’s shoulder and saw Commodore Nastasi. “That’s an interesting word to hear you use, Admiral Philbin.”

Her presence surprised Jack, but not as much as it did Philbin. He blinked as if he’d seen a ghost.

“Commodore Nastasi,” the flag officer stammered. “I thought you were on personal leave. I didn’t expect you back for at least another week.”

She smiled coldly, stepped into the room, and then moved aside to allow four grim-faced Confederation Marines to enter the interrogation room.

“Oh, I doubt that very seriously, Admiral. You see, your organization has made a few errors. The first of them was trusting Lieutenant Selter to be competent. That was actually an enormous lapse in judgment on your part. Although he failed to carry out his mission to kill me, you assumed that I was dead and let him conduct the search. Another big mistake. Gentlemen, take the admiral into custody.”

“Get your hands off me!” Philbin demanded as they seized him. “You have no authority over me! I’m the commanding officer of this facility! How dare you?”

The Marines pulled the admiral’s arms behind his back and handcuffed him. Nastasi gestured at Randall, who was gaping in shock on the other side of the table.

“Don’t forget Lieutenant Randall. I suspect he’s part of this conspiracy, though I have to admit that I don’t precisely know the role he’s playing yet. We’ll hold him for a bit until we can figure that out.”

She turned her attention to Jack and Hutton, pulling a set of handcuff keys out of her pocket. “Turn around and I’ll unlock you. I have to say, I’m looking forward to hearing how you got yourself arrested this time. I don’t have much time. I’ve got to find the conspirators, and I don’t know yet who they all are.”

All that time, Philbin had been raging at Nastasi and the Marine holding him. He was so angry he was almost foaming at the mouth.

Nastasi regarded him. “It’s a pity that ball gags are against regulations. He’s really beginning to get on my nerves. Sit him down in the chair here, Gunnery Sergeant. Detain the lieutenant elsewhere, and we’ll deal with him later.”

The Marine shoved the dismayed Lieutenant out of the interrogation room, and Nastasi sat in the chair that Philbin had intended to use.

She looked at the disgraced flag officer with cold eyes. “Another mistake that your people made was relying too heavily on encryption to protect your communications. I’ll confess that it would’ve normally stymied me for quite some time, but I have access to assets with some very unusual talents.

“They compromised the comm unit in Lieutenant Selter’s quarters and found all of the messages he’d sent reporting the attempted murder and the search for my body. Everything was well hidden and protected by encryption, but the hardware wasn’t good enough to keep my asset from gaining access.”

Nastasi leaned forward with a cold smile. “My asset went through all of his files and found the encryption key in plain text. That’s how I know he reported my death and the disappearance of my body to Admiral LaChasse and yourself.

“I don’t know who else is involved, but I’m certain that when I execute additional search warrants, I’ll find what I need to unravel things. Knowing all of that, do you have anything to say?”

Philbin looked like he wanted to swallow his tongue. Instead, he grimaced and shook his head. “I want my lawyer.”

“I’m not sure how much help that will be, as I’m quite confident that I’ll find evidence you’ve been receiving substantial sums of money from the embezzled funds, but that’s your right. Marine, take him away.”

Philbin was removed and Jack gazed at Nastasi with awe. “How did you unravel this so quickly?”

The woman grinned at him. “I have Tina Chen to thank for getting into the equipment once I got the first warrant on Faust. They didn’t want to believe me at first, but a medical examination confirmed that I’d been attacked at around the same time I supposedly went on emergency leave. That was sufficient to get a warrant for Selter’s communications equipment.

“Admittedly, that was easy since he’s not here. We just walked into his quarters and accessed his equipment. Tina is very adept at breaking into electronics. It didn’t take her more than ten minutes to find the encrypted messages and another ten to find the encryption key in plain text.”

She smiled. “That was remarkably careless of him. Thankfully for investigators like me, people never think that they’re going to get caught.”

Jack found himself frowning. “You don’t have him in custody? I figured you’d pick him up first thing.”

“I would have, but he wasn’t anywhere I looked. The Marines are quietly scouring headquarters, but he may be in the wind. I don’t know what tipped him off, but he didn’t feel the need to communicate his concerns to Philbin before he ran.”

She leaned back in her seat and smiled. “I have to tell you that communicating with your superior officers about illegal doings—even using encryption—is unbelievably arrogant. He had to have known that people would be looking into his communications if anything came to light.

“Even though everything he sent was encrypted, there’s probably a record of those messages somewhere in the network. As a matter of fact, I’m going to have the whole system swept for encrypted messages. If somebody else has been sending notes that they don’t want anyone to read, I’d like to know who they are. This conspiracy is bigger than the people we’ve identified thus far.”

Jack regarded the JAG officer. “You said something about LaChasse being involved. That’s confirmed?”

Nastasi grimaced and nodded. “I have a message from her ordering Selter to kill me. It doesn’t get much more incriminating than that. Was she the top dog? I don’t know. We’ll know more when we get her communications decrypted. If she’s smarter than Selter—which she almost has to be—then that’s going to be significantly more time consuming, but with the application of sufficient resources, it’s doable. At the very least, I’ve got enough to charge her with some very serious crimes once all of this is over.”

Jack started to say something but stopped himself. He thought about the situation that the Confederation was in and grimaced.

“She’s in command of the fleet defending the Confederation from the Locusts at the Perseus Cluster. What will arresting her do to the fleet?”

“Thankfully, that’s not my decision to make,” Nastasi said. “Rear Admiral Valenciano should be here in the next half hour, and she’s assumed command of headquarters until everything is settled.

“We’re trying to keep this as quiet as possible, but news of the arrests may reach LaChasse if we don’t act promptly. We’ll send someone to replace her, but we won’t have the necessary orders from headquarters for at least six weeks. That’s too long.

“It’s going to require some shenanigans to pull off, but we’ve concocted a workaround. We found a regulation that will allow us to bring your father back to active service at his retirement rank of admiral because of the emergency. His four stars will trump her three.

“Will he be any better at defending the Confederation? I’d like to think so because we’re going to be introducing chaos into a situation that doesn’t need it. The problem is going to be getting him to the front line as quickly as possible and preventing her from doing anything stupid when he gets there.”

Jack smiled. “As it happens, I’m leaving orbit in just over ten hours. That’s the reason I was here, to get my fire control modules from logistics. If my father can join us aboard Hunter, we’ll get him to the front line in about a week. From there, he’s on his own. I can drop him off with whatever forces he can bring with him, but I’m going to have to jump into the Perseus Cluster as quickly as possible.”

“And we’ll get you on your way as soon as possible,” she agreed. “Now, what’s this I hear about someone impersonating the admiral’s aide? I’ll eventually have to look into that, I suppose, but it might fall off my radar by the time things really get rolling. After all, I’m going to have more pressing matters to think about than you pulling a fast one to get the parts that you should’ve been able to legally get in the first place, right?”

“You already found out? That was fast.”

Somehow Jack was confident that her source was Tina Chen. Her husband had no doubt briefed her. Anyone in the Navy already knew the only thing that traveled faster than the speed of light without a quantum gate was gossip.

And, sadly, the Locusts.

“I’ve got my sources,” Nastasi confirmed. “My advice going forward is to not be so clever. Next time, I might not be there to pull your ass out of the fire.”

“As soon as Admiral Valenciano gets here, we need to scare up as many people and supplies as possible,” Jack said. “We’ll run out of food and everything else because we’re not set up to fight for months at a time. Or years.”

“Do you think you’re going to be there for more than a few months?” Nastasi asked, her brow furrowed. “Your ship is pretty powerful, isn’t she?”

Jack shook his head. “We don’t have any missiles. The lasers are powerful, but they’re defensive weapons. We’re not going to be able to take the attack to the Locusts without long-range weapons.

“I suspect that there are missiles with the other battleships, but I shudder to think about the condition they’re in. We won’t know the situation inside the Perseus Cluster until we get there. With any luck, the Navy is pushing the Locusts back and won’t need our assistance at all.”

“Do you think that’s likely?” she asked quietly.

He shook his head. “I think the Confederation is in serious trouble. The Locusts have come in force this time. We believe they received information about what they were fighting during the last invasion before launching this one.

“Depending on when the messengers left during the first invasion were recorded, the information might not include details about the battleships. They entered the war near the end.”

Jack certainly hoped that was the case, but one never planned for the most pleasant outcome to a problem.

“If the locusts think they’re only fighting the less powerful ships that they ran into at first, maybe we’ll get lucky,” he continued. “If they already know about the battleships, they’ve come with enough force to beat them, and I don’t think the current Navy ships could have fought the battleship division at its peak.

“Hell, Hunter would be more than powerful enough to vaporize a good chunk of our fleet. We’ll go in hoping for the best, but we’ve got to plan for the worst. And sadly, the worst means that we may be fighting this invasion for a long time, if we can keep them pinned down inside the Perseus Cluster at all.”

The problem with enemies like the Locusts was that they had faster than light travel. It would take them years to get from the cluster to the rest of the Confederation, but they could do it.

That would still allow the Confederation time to prepare. Time they desperately needed.

Nastasi nodded and stood. “Then let’s get everything lined up so that we can get that process in motion. Admiral Valenciano will start moving every person she can spare with useful experience to your ship. She’ll strip headquarters of all the supplies she can find, too.

“Since we’ve got ten hours, we can probably get people and supplies from Faust too. If push comes to shove, can you delay your departure?”

“I’d prefer not to, but if it’s a matter of a few hours and it gives us the leverage that we need to stay in the fight, I’m willing to do it.”

“Then let’s make some magic happen.”

The die was cast, and very soon, he’d be on his way to fight the ancient enemies of humanity in an antique ship with an untested crew. What could possibly go wrong?

33

Once Rear Admiral Valenciano arrived aboard headquarters, things began moving at top speed. With her assistance, logistics immediately turned over the fire control modules. All were neatly boxed and had been shoved into a distant storage room because no one had expected them to ever be needed.

Arranging to get them to Hunter only took about two hours. What took significantly longer was finding a way to store all the supplies that headquarters was suddenly providing to his ship. Food, medical equipment, medicines, and all other basic items a ship as large as Hunter required for extended operations took up a lot of space.

Nastasi had even offered some of the supply depot personnel a deal to help make the magic happen in exchange for reduced sentences, and that got a lot of enthusiastic support that he definitely needed right about that time. Hutton would have to deal with them, but that was his problem.

The next bit of chaos was finding personnel that might provide assistance in getting Hunter functional. There were some engineers aboard headquarters, of course, but not nearly as many as one would expect, and none skilled in quantum drives like the one on the battleship.

No one in the modern Navy needed to be since the gates controlled the jumps, and they were serviced by dedicated crews in the employ of the Confederation.

The engineers’ primary job aboard headquarters was keeping the fusion plants running and maintaining the rest of the equipment. They would prove helpful in getting Hunter operational again, but there were limits to what they knew. Still, trained hands were trained hands.

Admiral Valenciano issued a call reactivating people in the reserves with critical skills. Of course, they were scattered across Faust, so getting them up to headquarters and over to Hunter was a challenge, particularly because all the small craft were moving supplies.

The end result was barely controlled chaos on the battleship. They were being stuffed full of people, and there was no way to keep track of them. They’d stopped even trying. They’d have to sort everything out on the way to the Perseus Cluster.

His traffic control team had quickly been overwhelmed and had to be augmented by some of the professionals from headquarters, who started controlling flight operations around the battleship so that no one was put in danger. His people followed along remotely, learning how the experts did it.

Jack spent an inordinate amount of time running from one section of the ship to another, ensuring that all of the major items that needed doing were accomplished. All he had at the end of that was a high-level understanding of the kinds of things taking place.

Sleep had been impossible, but at least some kind soul had stuck a sandwich in his hand. Jack scarfed it down on the move and kept working.

Almost precisely at the twelve-hour mark, a small fleet of cutters lifted off from Faust and rendezvoused with Hunter. They landed in orchestrated waves, disgorging the reserve and civilian personnel that had volunteered for the mission.

And his father.

Jack found out five minutes before his father arrived and just barely made it to the small craft bay in time to greet him. If his father had still been a civilian, he wouldn’t have bothered hurrying, but one wasn’t supposed to keep an admiral standing around.

The cutters disgorged people of every shape, size, and description, but he only saw the craft with the flag officer’s emblem. It was Vice Admiral LaChasse’s personal cutter, so Valenciano must’ve sent it down to pick up his father.

When Eric Romanoff stepped off the cutter in his regular Navy uniform, he looked every bit the senior flag officer come to take charge. The action around him in the bay seemed to speed up as people hurried what they were doing to make a better impression.

Jack had to admit that his father looked good in uniform as he saluted. It had always suited him. He opened his mouth to say something along those lines but stopped when his mother exited the cutter.

“What the hell are you doing here, Mom?” Jack demanded. “This isn’t the kind of place for you. We’re going into battle, and that’s dangerous.”

His father gave him a halfhearted smile and shrugged. “I’ve already told her that, but you know how she is when she’s made up her mind. Before she retired, she was one hell of a doctor, and she’s decided that you need her assistance more than she needs to sit around the house worrying about us.

“So, she’s come to lend your medical department a hand. Not only that, she brought along a gaggle of retired medics and doctors. They should be able to bolster whatever medical personnel headquarters was able to find for you.”

He had to grudgingly admit that that was only the truth. No matter how many people headquarters dug up, it wouldn’t be enough for thousands of people in a combat situation like they faced.

That still didn’t mean he had to like or accept it. It was within his power to send his mother packing, but the logic was inarguable. He really did need her help, and he wouldn’t mind having her along. She’d be in danger, and that’s not something that he wanted for his mother, but her entire family was already at risk.

He might as well accept the inevitable.

“I won’t fight this, but I can’t say that it makes me happy,” Jack grumbled. “I have absolutely no idea what kind of quarters you’ll get. Furniture of any kind is almost impossible to find. Unless, of course, you managed to dig up a couple of warehouses of stuff that can be delivered in the next half hour or so.”

His father grinned. “I did, in fact, find a rather large warehouse full of old navy furniture. My contacts are in the process of loading everything right now. They won’t be ready by the time you leave orbit, but they won’t miss you by much. If you boost a little slower than you intended to, they should be able to catch up and deliver their cargo before you reach the jump limit. That’s how this thing works, right? When you’re not using a quantum gate, you have to be a certain distance away from any large gravitational sources. My memory of science courses in school is a little bit fuzzy.”

Jack rubbed his head tiredly and nodded. “Yes, but I don’t really understand it myself. I’ll get the details when we head out for the first jump.

“And for something that important, we can let them come to us before we depart orbit. That’s probably better anyway. It gives headquarters more time to finish sending over whatever supplies and personnel they can scrounge up.”

He gestured toward the main hatch. “I’ve arranged for one of the rooms in my suite to be set up for your use. Thankfully, it’s got a bed large enough for the two of you, but you’ll have to put up with me as a breakfast companion.”

Her mother laughed. “That sounds like just the kind of reward I need after all this stress, having more time with my boys before they go off to war. Even if there wasn’t a bed, I’d sleep on the floor.”

“She’d do it, too,” his father confirmed. “I just hope there aren’t any springs. If there are, I suppose we’ll deal with it.”

“Then let’s get you back to my quarters now because I want to have a private word about your plans.”

His father’s smile vanished. “You don’t need to know what my plans are, Commodore. All you need to do is get me to the fleet units on this side of the Perseus Cluster quantum gate. Once there, you’ll tell them that you’ve brought someone from headquarters with a message and that you’re sending them over via cutter, and Commodore Nastasi and I will handle the rest.

“You’ll need to tell your people to keep an eye out for her and a cutter full of people from the shore patrol since they’ll be along shortly. As much as she wanted to be here looking for Selter and his co-conspirators, I need her at my side to make sure this unusual transition in command happens smoothly.”

Without waiting for Jack to respond, he kept speaking. “I’m sure LaChasse won’t be at the gateway system, but we can commandeer one of the cruisers and make our way to her rally point. I’ll have Marines with me, and Commodore Nastasi can arrest her when I have her in custody.

“After that’s done, I’ll do the very best I can to keep the Locusts out of the rest of the Confederation. It sounds like they’ve arrived in force, and I’m beginning to have my doubts about how effective the technology we’ve been working on for the last two hundred years is going to be. Your ship might play a more critical role than anyone anticipated.”

Jack nodded. “I’ve been thinking something similar myself. The lasers are powerful but are only meant for short-range defense. We’ll be able to protect ourselves if we can get enough of them operational, but that’s not going to take the fight to the enemy. That’s going to have to be the rest of the fleet, at least in the short term.”

His father sighed and clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll do the best we can. I’ve dug up everybody that I thought had even a chance of having a skill that would be useful in getting your ship into better condition, but a week is an impossible deadline to work with. There is a way to delay the Locusts, but I can’t share it with you because of need to know. It’s not a perfect solution, but it might buy us some time, even if it comes at a terrible cost.”

Jack shot his father a flat stare. “I don’t like the sound of that. As the commander of the battleship division, I operate directly under the auspices of the grand admiral, so I’m not in your chain of command, Admiral Romanoff, nor Admiral LaChasse’s. I hold a coequal battle command, so I need to know exactly what you’re talking about.”

His father stopped walking, put his hands on his hips, and regarded Jack. Then he nodded.

“I suppose you’re right. Dear, if you could go find David Chen and make sure that we have everything set up, I’d appreciate it. I need to have a few minutes alone with our son for an impromptu classified briefing.”

His mother gave Jack a brief but intense hug and departed, already asking someone for directions.

Jack wasn’t sure that having a classified briefing in the middle of a busy corridor was the best idea, but there was a bubble around flag officers, so if they spoke quietly enough, no one would hear anything critical as they hurried past.

“What I’m talking about is called Operation Hot Gates. Are you familiar with the story of the three hundred Spartans back on Earth?”

Jack raised a hand and wiggled it. “In general terms, yeah. A group of warriors stood off a much larger army by putting themselves in the middle of a pass and then fighting to the death. There was no way that the larger force could get to them all at once, so they were able to hold that position for a while. They were eventually overwhelmed and killed.”

Eric Romanoff nodded. “That’s close enough for our purposes. While there were just three hundred Spartans, there were also thousands of others, though I suppose facing a Persian army of the size they did, it didn’t really matter how many people they had.

“The bottom line was that it wasn’t enough. They were outgunned and going to die, and they knew it. You should take a few minutes when you have time to read up on the story because there’s a lot that can be learned from it.”

Jack wasn’t so sure, but he was more than willing to give it a look if he ever found the time.

“In this case, the important part of the story is the fact that the Persians only had one pass they could go through,” his father continued. “Their situation was similar to what’s happening in the Perseus Cluster now. There’s only one quantum gate leading into the cluster, and if the Navy can hold it while the civilians retreat, we will. If it looks like we’re going to lose it, we’ll evacuate our forces and destroy the gates.

“That’s only a temporary measure because we know they have faster-than-light travel. Still, at ten times the speed of light, it will take them something like a year and a half to make the trip to the nearest system on our side of the gap. That’s the ultimate endgame if things go badly.”

“That would cede hundreds of billions of people to them,” Jack said quietly. “That’s an awful lot of people to abandon.”

His father nodded, his expression serious. “I agree, but if we’re losing the fight, we don’t have a way to get them out anyway. If this invasion is like the last one, they’ll destroy everything in space and leave the surface populations alone. That’s not ideal by any means, but it’s not a death sentence either. There’s only so much that we can do.”

Jack rubbed his face and nodded. “I understand, but it still doesn’t make this easy. I’m going to have to figure out how to work the capabilities of this battleship into the plan. The one thing that stands out to me is that we can jump to the Perseus Cluster without a gate at all. If need be, we could rescue more people.”

His father shook his head. “We can’t risk allowing the Locusts to get their hypothetical hands on quantum drive technology. The gates are passive technology. Someone has to go to a system first and put half of a matched pair in place and then link them before they can be used.

“That kind of tech won’t help the Locusts get anywhere that there isn’t already a gate. Not without understanding the technology well enough to initiate a quantum tunnel. To get that experience, they’d have had to have built a quantum drive already, which is very unlikely.

“Since they didn't know about the gates before the first invasion, they didn’t try to take any of them apart to learn their secrets. After the war, we installed antitampering devices and self-destruct mechanisms. They won’t be able to take a gate apart now and figure out how it works.”

“The rest of the battleships are mothballed inside the Perseus Cluster,” Jack argued. “They’re off the beaten path, but the Locusts will eventually find them. You can bet your ass that they’re not in usable condition, but the Locusts will be able to reverse engineer the technology with time.”

His father sighed and nodded. “There’s a point to that, but I still think this is a bad idea.”

“At the very least, I’ve got to get there and make sure that none of the other quantum drives can be used against the Confederation,” Jack argued. “I’m also hoping that the supply depot has the missiles that I couldn’t find here. It’s entirely possible that we could make this ship fully combat ready if I can slip around the Locusts.

“Since I don’t have to go through the quantum gates, I believe that I can and, to repeat something I said earlier, you’re not the boss of me. If the grand admiral tells me that this is a terrible idea, I’ll be more than happy to obey his orders. Until then, I’ll decide how best to fight my ship.”

His father chuckled. “Since he won’t even find out about the invasion for a few more weeks, the odds of him getting orders to you before you go into the cluster are zero. Well played. Still, you need to be as careful as you can, son. If they pin you down, it’s the end of you and eventually us. A lot is riding on your decisions.”

“Believe it or not, I was trained by one of the best when I was a young man,” Jack said with a wry smile. “I’m not going to let them grind me down. We’ll make this work one way or the other. If, of course, we manage to get out of orbit at all.”

His father laughed and clapped a hand on his shoulder again. “And if you can figure out how to use the controls to actually move this ship without ramming headquarters. That would be epic in a game, but I don’t want to see it happen in real life.”

Jack couldn’t argue with that. “Catch up with Mom. I’ve got to head to the bridge. We’re leaving for the cluster as soon as we can.”

34

Jack nodded to the Marines on guard outside the bridge. The two shadowing him peeled off to join them, and he made his way inside. All of the stations were manned, and not everyone was in uniform.

In fact, roughly half of them were in civilian clothes.

He stopped next to his command chair and looked everyone over as the able spacers and midshipmen leapt to their feet. The civilians rose as well, but they were definitely more than a few beats slower.

Calvo came forward and braced to attention. “Sir! The bridge crew is ready for your orders.”

“Excellent. Everyone can sit back down. Now that you’re on active duty, you’re not expected to stop doing what you’re doing just because an officer enters the bridge. That’s a distraction that we can’t afford.”

They resumed their seats, though they were all still watching him. Jack raised an eyebrow at Calvo. “It looks like you found more people.”

The young man almost grinned. “Just following your orders, sir. You said to get my hands on any combatant that I could with experience running these controls. I reached out to the tournament circuit and got some of the best players on the planet to volunteer to fill our roster.”

Jack went back over what he’d told Calvo and decided that his instructions could have been stretched to cover this, but it certainly hadn’t been his intention to bring civilians into this particular aspect of the work.

Still, he wouldn’t complain about having experienced professionals manning his systems, no matter where they came from.

“We’re going to war,” Jack said almost gently but loud enough to be heard. “This isn’t going to be a pleasure cruise or a game. People are going to be maimed or killed in this war. Maybe even you. The bridge is well protected, but you’re not safe here, not by any stretch of the imagination.

“Don’t get me wrong. I appreciate your enthusiasm and that you volunteered, but are you prepared for that? If not, no shame. We’ll pack you up and get you back to headquarters before we break orbit. Once we start moving, you’re committed. Be very sure that this is what you want because this is your last chance to back out.”

He waited for a few beats, but no one said anything. Well, no one could say that he hadn’t given them a choice.

“Very good,” he said. “We’ll need to come up with paperwork for everyone to sign, but the Confederation and I appreciate your assistance. We’ll be leaving orbit as soon as the last cargo ships deliver what they’ve got for us. I hope everyone has had an opportunity to go over their controls.”

Calvo nodded. “We’ve run a couple of simulations, and we’re confident we can operate the ship within the parameters the game would give us. There are going to be differences between that and reality, I’m sure, but we’ll work them out. Whatever Hunter throws at us, we’ll handle it, sir.”

“Stations, everyone,” Jack said as he sat down in the command chair. “I’ll give you a little more time to continue your familiarization, but don’t get too involved because when it’s time to leave, it’s time to leave.”

As his makeshift bridge crew returned their attention to their stations, Jack hit the control panel with his thumb and brought up a comm channel to the operations room.

“Operations.”

“Bridge,” Jack said. “We’ve got more cargo vessels coming up with last-minute deliveries, and also a number of cutters delivering people. Try to get them in and out as quickly as possible because we’re not going to wait for them to finish unloading before we boost.”

“Copy that, sir.”

“Excellent. Bridge out.”

He opened a channel to engineering. One of the technicians answered, and he asked for Danek. It took her a couple of minutes to get to him.

That was fine. She was under a lot of pressure, and the work she was doing was critical. When she finally came on the line, she sounded out of breath. “Danek.”

“Romanoff. We’re going to be leaving orbit shortly. Is Hunter ready?”

“As ready as she’s going to get. We’re not going to know for sure that anything works until we put it on the line. As soon as we ramp up power to the fusion drives, something may blow.”

“Are you expecting that kind of failure?”

“I just don’t know, sir,” she said tiredly. “There are too many unknowns. If something fails, we’ll do absolutely everything we can to get it functional again as quickly as possible.”

“You do realize how embarrassing it will be if we have a complete drive failure and never even get out of the system, right?”

“More than you can possibly imagine, sir. We’ll do our best to make sure we don’t look like complete and total idiots. What kind of timeframe are we looking at?”

“We really need to be in motion now, but we’re waiting on a few more deliveries. Call it an hour. Once we boost, it’s going to take us a minimum of three hours to get out to the jump limit so that we can safely use the quantum drive. What are your thoughts on it?”

“It’s a complete unknown,” she said after a couple of seconds of silence. “The self-checks say the drive is good, but honestly, this is the first one that I’ve ever seen, and it hasn’t been used for centuries. Frankly, if we’re going to have a failure, I expect it to break before the fusion drives do. An hour should be sufficient for us to be ready.”

“An hour it is then. Be ready for the call. Bridge out.”

With that done, he tried to use his controls to get a better understanding of what else was going on aboard Hunter, but the small panel on the command chair was mostly a mystery to him.

Then he frowned. Why was he trying to figure this out by himself? Some of these kids had to have played commanding officers in their game. Surely they understood how these controls worked.

“Midshipman Calvo, a moment if you would.”

Calvo rose from his console and hurried over. “Yes, sir?”

Jack gestured toward the controls on the arm of his chair. “If you’d be so kind as to run down everything this does, it would make my life a lot easier. I’m used to running a command console, but none of these controls are familiar to me.”

“Of course, sir.”

Jack listened carefully as the midshipman explained every set of options and how they could be used and modified. There was actually far more functionality to the small console than he’d anticipated. Just changing a couple of settings gave him almost as much information on any specific set of systems as one of the watch officers might have.

In a push, he supposed that he could actually fly the ship from the console, although he’d never want to try.

When Calvo finished going over everything, Jack noted that the hour was almost up. He checked in with operations and found that all of the cargo vessels were now aboard and unloading.

Another dozen cutters had brought people from headquarters and Faust before departing, so that aspect was done. Crossing his mental fingers, Jack attempted to open a comm channel to headquarters.

“Headquarters, this is Delta Orionis. We’re prepared to head for the Perseus Cluster. Permission to depart?”

That was merely a formality, but since people he actually thought well of were in command of headquarters now, being polite never hurt.

A few moments later, the side screen nearest his chair came to life and showed Admiral Valenciano. “Headquarters acknowledges your departure request and grants it with pleasure, Commodore Romanoff. Godspeed to you, your people, and your ship. Go do the Navy proud.”

“We’ll do everything we can, Admiral. Delta Orionis out.”

He killed the channel and made one last call to engineering. Danek answered immediately.

“Engineering.”

“Bridge. We’re ready to give this a go. Are you ready, Lieutenant?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do this, sir.”

“Here we go, then. Bridge out.”

He turned his attention to Calvo. “Take us out of orbit, helm. Let’s not get too close to headquarters, just in case.”

“Copy that, sir.”

Jack felt movement in the asteroid where there had been none before. The view of headquarters changed as the ship boosted away from Faust and began accelerating.

Shockingly, the thrust felt smooth, even though they weren’t traveling very fast. The fact that the drives could move such a massive nickel-iron asteroid at all was impressive in and of itself.

He discreetly brought up the engineering controls on his console and looked at the output of the fusion drives. He didn’t know what their thrust curves were supposed to look like under normal operating conditions, but nothing really jumped out at him as being out of line. He hoped that meant they were operating within normal parameters. If they weren’t, he’d get a call from Danek shortly.

Or, if she was actually following protocol, she’d communicate that information to the engineering representative on the bridge.

Maybe he should just ask.

“Engineering watch officer, are the fusion drives operating within normal specifications?”

A young woman in civilian clothes turned and nodded. “Yes, sir. We’re not putting them under a very heavy load, but they’re performing well at fifty percent thrust. Lieutenant Danek indicated that once we’re clear of Faust’s orbit, she is going to increase the thrust to eighty percent.”

Jack nodded. That was wise. If anything was out of spec, he’d like to know before something broke.

When they accelerated to eighty percent of maximum—or full military power as it was called—the fusion drives still seemed to be doing okay. He was half tempted to order at least a few minutes at one hundred percent thrust—or flank speed—but that might be pushing things too far. Better to deal with eighty percent and let things settle in before trying anything chancy.

It took almost two hours for all of the cargo vessels to finish unloading. They departed one by one until they were all gone. That left his command ready to jump for the next system along their course.

They were still about fifty minutes away from the jump limit, but best to be cautious. “Helm, let’s give the jump limit some extra padding, just to be sure that any problem with the quantum drive doesn’t screw us. We’ll jump in eighty minutes. Give all hands notice when we’re ten minutes out, and then give us a sixty-second countdown. Our destination is labeled as R207D-12. It’s unpopulated, but it’s on our plotted course to the Perseus Cluster.”

Calvo turned, frowning. “Excuse any impertinence, sir, but wouldn’t it make more sense to go to an occupied system just in case we have a malfunction in the quantum drive?”

Jack considered that advice. “You’re probably right. What would you suggest as our first destination?”

The young man turned back to his console and tapped on it a few times. “The most distant occupied system that we can reach that parallels our course is Wandrey’s Star. It’s not much, but if we break down, they can at least send people to evacuate anybody that needs it. It’ll add an extra jump to get us back on the shortest route, so maybe an additional five hours.”

“Do it, then.”

Sitting back and watching the clock count down was one of the hardest things any captain had to do when they were in a hurry. He had to trust that his crew was doing what they needed to do. In this case, it was more challenging than usual.

The ten-minute warning came when Calvo opened the all-hands channel, and every overhead speaker and personal comm unit came to life. “Attention! Ten minutes to jump. All hands secure yourselves and your areas and prepare for a potentially rough jump.”

The clock seemed to slow down even further, and it took an eternity before Calvo began counting down the final sixty seconds.

Jack sat back in his seat with the calmest expression as he could manage, using all of the training and experience that he’d had as a commanding officer to look relaxed and confident.

He was supposed to give his crew the impression that he had no worries about what would happen next. Sadly, he had no idea what was going to happen, and he was worried.

The last three seconds ticked away, and he watched Calvo press the control to activate the quantum drive. The lighting dimmed dramatically, though it didn’t go completely out.

Going through a quantum gate caused a physical twitch. It wasn’t severe, and after a few times, most people got used to it.

This jump was nothing like that.

When Calvo’s finger touched the controls to activate the quantum drive, it felt as if the universe convulsed around him, and for one brief instant, Jack thought he’d been turned inside out. Thankfully, everything returned to normal and the lights came back up.

He almost fell out of his command chair before he caught himself.

The effect was equally rough on everyone else, and some people did fall out of their chairs. Those that weren’t incapacitated by the jump staggered to assist their companions, but Jack’s eyes were focused on the screen.

“What’s our position, helm?” he asked, his voice unexpectedly hoarse.

Calvo blinked for a couple of moments before looking down at his console. “We made it to Wandrey’s Star, sir. Is every jump that bad?”

“Not hardly. That was worse than anything I’ve ever experienced. Everyone, start checking your departments and get their status.”

It took Jack two tries to open a channel to engineering. When Danek came on, she sounded just as punch drunk as he felt.

“Engineering. Sorry about that. It seems that the quantum drive needs some tuning. Without a baseline, we didn’t know what we had to work with, but now that I have readings, I think I can make the next jump less painful.”

“I’m certain everyone would appreciate that,” Jack said dryly. “We’re going to maneuver to the next jump point while we go over everything, and if the ship is in decent condition, we’ll continue on. What was with the power drop?”

“The jump used almost all the energy we were generating. I hope to have another fusion plant online soon, but that’s just something we’ll have to deal with for now.”

“Understood. Do the best you can.”

“Will do, sir. Engineering out.”

“How long until we reach the next jump point at sixty percent thrust, Calvo?”

“Just short of six hours, sir. We’ll have to get to a place that the jump boundary—which is a sphere around the sun or nearest planet—isn’t obscuring the target system.”

“Fine. Make that happen.”

He opened the all hands channel. “All hands, this is the captain. Sorry about the rough jump. We’re working on tuning the quantum drive to ensure that it doesn’t get that bad again. In the meantime, work with your teammates to make sure everyone is okay, and then begin checking all of your systems. If we broke something during the jump, I want to know about it as soon as possible. Report everything that you find—good or bad—to the operations department. Romanoff out.”

And with that, they’d taken the first, most difficult step on their journey. They still had roughly a week to go before they arrived at the Perseus Cluster, but they’d made it this far. Now they had to do it again as many times as it took to get there so that they could fight the Locusts.

35

After three days of basically living on the bridge, Jack gave in to the inevitable. He was the only certified command watch officer aboard, but he couldn’t be there every second.

He considered asking his father to take watches, but that wouldn’t help after they dropped him off. Jack needed to work with the crew he had, which meant that he had to trust that they could do what needed doing without him constantly looking over their shoulders.

Moreover, they needed to understand that they could do it. The confidence that came from being able to stand watches unsupervised was critical when they had to make decisions and couldn’t consult with a senior officer in time to make a difference.

Bluntly, they needed seasoning, and doing the job was the only way to get that. Their experience playing the game could only take them so far, and it was his job to help them mature as quickly as he could.

The solution he chose was to have Midshipman Calvo and the next two most experienced players take the rotating bridge watch when they were moving between jump gates. That allowed him time to sleep and eat, as jumbled up as the breaks were.

To complicate matters, his mother insisted on at least one shared meal a day. Thankfully, she worked with David Chen to schedule everything so that it didn’t negatively impact him performing his duties. Much.

It was also pleasant to have Sara Nastasi join them. He’d enjoyed the few weeks of sharing meals with her as she recovered from the attack, and her presence kept his father from being too snarky.

The reason his schedule was so jumbled was the peculiarities of the quantum drive. It worked differently than the quantum gates. The gates were linked pairs under continuous power, so they could be positioned somewhat deeper inside the gravity wells of planets and stars.

Since Hunter was jumping free, she had to be outside a certain radius for her fully independent quantum drive to work at all. That meant that she had to depart and arrive outside the jump limit of a star or planet if the planet was far enough away from the star to be a destination of its own.

Calvo explained all of that to him and gave the warning that habitable worlds were generally inside the jump limit of the star itself. Also, the fact that there was a linked pair of quantum gates between two systems actually allowed Hunter a somewhat greater range, even if they weren’t close to the gates in question.

The young man couldn’t explain why that was, so Jack made a mental note to ask Danek if she could explain it when they had time. The why was less critical than understanding the real-world effect of the gates.

Being restricted to using the drive outside the jump limit of a star meant that there would typically be maneuvering to get a clear line of sight on the next system since the jump couldn’t intersect the spherical jump limit around a star or planet.

Trying to transit through the exclusion zone was a recipe for disaster—or so he was told—and since they were still working with an uncertain drive, Jack made sure that they put extra distance between where they could technically jump and where they actually jumped. The padding gave everyone peace of mind and made sure there were no unpleasant surprises.

That slowed them a little, but it couldn’t be helped. In any case, the crews restoring the lasers to service could use the extra time to get more of the warship’s defensive weaponry back online.

Not that they’d be able to restore a significant fraction of the lasers to functionality in the time they had. Seven days was woefully inadequate to make Hunter combat ready, and he wasn’t even sure what kind of battle he was facing.

They didn’t necessarily need to engage the forces arrayed against them in the Perseus Cluster to accomplish his first goal. They could go through systems with no human presence and circle the cluster to where the rest of the battleships were parked without taking undue risks.

If they could find a supply of missiles there and spend some time bringing their systems online, it might make a difference when they engaged the Locusts.

Of course, that was only true if the Navy was holding their own. If things were going worse than they hoped, he’d have to reassess. His ship wasn’t in shape to fight, but she might have to anyway.

Those thoughts plagued his waking moments. He was still working the possibilities on the evening of day three as he left the bridge to head back to his quarters. He had four and a half hours to shower and get what sleep he could.

When his comm chimed, he sighed and answered it.

“Romanoff.”

“Good evening, Jack,” Professor Prescott said cheerfully. “I hope I didn’t catch you at an inconvenient time, but if I could steal a few moments, I think I have some interesting and potentially helpful information to show you in my lab.”

With so much going on, Jack had forgotten about the professor and his research. Out of sight, out of mind.

“I do have a few minutes, but only a very few,” he regretfully allowed. “Is it good news? I could really use some good news.”

“As a matter of fact, it’s excellent news.”

“Well, then, how can I say no? I’m on my way.”

Jack changed course and headed for the lab with his Marine guards at his heels. He left them parked at the hatch with the Marine that he’d placed guarding the lab. Thankfully, his Marine complement had grown drastically once headquarters started assisting him rather than hindering him, though he didn’t know by how much. He hadn’t had time to absorb that data point.

When he entered the lab, the professor was standing near the table with the computer core he’d borrowed from Bart Lipton. Mister Lipton had wisely returned to Faust before they departed.

Sadly, that left the professor without anyone knowledgeable enough to assist him. Jack’s father hadn’t had any luck finding someone to help with the research.

“What have you got for me?” Jack asked tiredly, already plotting his withdrawal from the conversation.

The professor grinned. “A potential Rosetta Stone. I found some audio communications from human ships and planets that the Locusts recorded during the invasion two centuries ago. That was pure chance because I still can’t read the computer language these machines use, but once I found the sound files and realized their nature, I discovered that they were linked to another set of audio files and what I suspect are text files.

“Running tests on those linked files allowed me to determine that they were probably translations of the transmissions. Since the motherships and drones used encrypted digital communications, this almost has to be their builder’s language. Not directly helpful, perhaps, but potentially useful somewhere down the line.”

Jack nodded, impressed despite his exhaustion. “Excellent work. If we ever run into the aliens, that will be useful. Can you figure out how to translate their language into something we can understand? I’m not thinking of these translations but future encounters.”

“I’m working on that. It won’t be clean or perfect because I’m sure they’ve made translation errors, and I’m only going to compound those by translating it back. Without clean files of actual Locusts talking, there’s a kind of feedback loop of errors. Still, it beats having nothing. How are things going on your end?”

“Not bad. We’ve got people aboard that play some game that gave them experience with the controls and maneuvering ships like Hunter. So far, it’s translated reasonably well. We’ll be at the Perseus Cluster in four days. By then, we should’ve shaken out at least a few of the bugs in the system and gotten maybe five percent of the lasers online. I consider that a major achievement. We’re not ready to fight a war by any means, but we’re not going to be completely unarmed either. It gives us a fighting chance.”

“I wonder how they would do without their commanding officer?” someone asked from the other side of the compartment

Jack hadn’t seen anyone else in the compartment and glanced over in surprise, only to discover Lieutenant Selter standing there. He had a weapon in his hand and a smug smile on his face.

There must’ve been a hatch behind some of the debris that led into the labyrinth of supply corridors beyond the main storage rooms. He’d thought the lab was completely isolated. That had obviously been a mistake on his part. Somehow during the chaos of loading the ship, Selter had made his way aboard.

“What a surprise to see you here, Lieutenant,” Jack said dryly. “There are a lot of people looking for you. How is this going to help your case when we turn you over to Commodore Nastasi?”

He laughed. “You really have no idea who you’re dealing with, do you? The people I work for can and will get me out of whatever prison I end up in. Before you know it, I’ll be set up somewhere under a new identity and living the good life.

“And before you drone on about how they’ll see me dead first, I’ve made sure they know I’ve left information to be revealed if that happens. They’d much rather pay me than deal with cleaning things up if they eliminate me.

“As for why I’m here, they’ll pay a hefty bonus for Nastasi’s death, and they might even pay a bounty on you too, with as much trouble as you’ve caused them, so don’t tempt me to kill you as part of the bargain.”

Jack shook his head. “How do you intend to get to her? She’s safely ensconced in the admiral’s suite under guard. You can’t find some back entrance to get in there and attack her. I’m sure you’ve already tried.”

“I’ll get in because you’re going to help me. If you don’t, not only will you die, but everyone else on the ship will die with you. You see, I’ve taken the last few days to plant some interesting devices in engineering to encourage you to cooperate rather than resist. Trust me when I say that catastrophically losing a fusion plant under the right circumstances would result in the destruction of this vessel and your entire crew. Don’t make me use them. Far better to let me finish Nastasi than see your crew die, don’t you think?”

Jack wasn’t sure if he had the skill to do that, but there was only so much he was willing to leave to chance. He needed to end this particular problem.

The professor raised his hands slightly, stepped away from Jack, and edged toward one of the tables piled high with equipment. “You don’t have to kill me. I’m just an observer. I won’t stop you.”

Jack shot the professor a frown. “Seriously?”

“Oh, I’m quite serious, Commodore. As serious as a fully charged drone laser.”

He realized what the professor was saying and smiled slightly as he stepped away from the professor and his table, returning his attention to Selter.

To Selter, he said, “So, you want me to take you to my quarters and bluff my way past the guards? How do I know that you won’t just set off the explosives no matter what I do?”

Jack didn’t care what his answer was. If he’d understood the professor correctly, he had a fully charged drone laser somewhere near the table that could be used as a weapon.

The drones were small—relatively speaking—and so were their weapons. While not man-portable, he imagined they could at least have gone unseen in the compartment.

If the professor really did have a fully charged laser in here, he’d definitely have to have words with him about weapon safety after this was all over, but he wouldn’t push too hard because it might just save his life.

Sadly, Jack probably wasn’t as clever as he thought because Selter didn’t seem fooled. “I don’t know what you think you’re doing, old man, but move away from that table. This is none of your concern. If you want to live, you’ll stay still.”

Jack was surprised when the professor instead dove for the table, drawing fire from Selter. He hit the professor, who stumbled and fell, never reaching whatever he was trying to get to.

Jack used the distraction to charge Selter. He knew that the odds of getting to Selter before the maniac killed him were slim, but he didn’t have any other options.

Selter almost had the gun back on Jack when one of the observation drones that Jack no longer even noticed anymore raced in from whatever corner it had been lurking in and slammed into Selter’s head, sending him staggering even as he opened fire.

Instead of hitting Jack many times in the torso, only one of the wild shots touched him, smashing into his left shoulder. With his adrenaline up it barely registered, and Jack hit the other man like a linebacker, using his good shoulder as a battering ram.

Selter went down hard, his weapon flying. Jack quickly straddled him and began punching him in the face with his good fist until the Marines outside the hatch burst in.

They quickly subdued Selter, and Jack staggered to his feet, then made his way over to the professor. The professor was sprawled on his back with two wounds to the torso, breathing heavily and bleeding profusely.

“Medical emergency in Doctor Prescott’s lab,” Jack said over his comm to the aid station. “Gunshot wounds. Don’t dawdle.”

“Did you get him?” Prescott wheezed.

“Yes. That was brave, trying to shoot him with a drone laser. Stupid to have one, though.”

Prescott laughed weakly. “I don’t have one. What kind of moron do you take me for? I was using myself as a distraction because he wasn’t going to let us live, no matter what he said. You needed an opening.”

“Smart thinking. Hang tight, and the doctors will have you back on your feet in no time.”

Jack hoped that was true, but the wounds looked pretty serious. He wasn’t going to relax until his friend was out of danger.

Medics poured into the lab, getting Jack away from Prescott while they assessed him.

Jack wanted to see what they were doing, but they had him on his butt in seconds, pulling off his uniform coat so they could look at the wound in his shoulder. Then they stripped him down to make sure he hadn’t been shot anywhere else.

He thought that was stupid and said so, but one of the Marines informed him that he might not even feel it with his adrenaline up. Jack wanted to argue the point but realized he wasn’t thinking clearly.

The medic said the shoulder wound looked like a simple through and through. No broken bones, no major trauma.

“Bottom line, Commodore, it’s going to hurt like hell and take some recovery time, but you should be fine.”

“I can do my job with an arm in a sling. Focus on the professor.”

The man chuckled. “We have more than enough people on board to see to you both. Now let’s get you to the aid station and take care of this.”

They wanted to put Jack on a stretcher, but he balked. The crew seeing him in that condition would be a huge blow to morale they couldn’t afford. He had the Marines help him get his uniform back on and stood unsteadily until two of the Marines bracketed him, providing some stability, and he found his feet.

It amused Jack to note that he now had four of the retired force recon personnel around him and his augmented Marine detail, rifles in hand and eyes scanning for threats. He’d be lucky to see the inside of his shower without an armed guard. He hoped that the wound didn’t impair him too much. He couldn’t put off the looming fight and had no one to back him up.

He’d make it work. He had to.

36

Jack instituted a lockdown and a complete search of the vessel as soon as they got him to the aid station. The main sickbay was still being brought online and probably wouldn’t be ready for even basic operations for another day or two. They were doing miraculous work, but it still required time.

The search took a couple of days and turned up nothing. Not that he’d really expected anything else since no one knew anybody else aboard the ship. Still, identities were checked as best they could, and enough people were found to vouch for everyone that he believed they were probably safe. It looked as if Selter had come alone.

Rather than dealing with the man himself, Jack had cheerfully turned him over to Nastasi and the people from the shore patrol that she’d brought with her. He was definitely her problem.

Jack had engineering search for bombs, but they’d found nothing. It had been a bluff. Good. One less problem to worry about.

The news about Prescott was more serious, but he’d come through the surgery and was now recovering. He wouldn’t be up and about for a while, though. At least he’d live and wouldn’t be crippled by the attack. Jack’s mother got most of the credit for that. Even McRae had glowing things to say about her.

Jack made sure to thank Christine for her timely intervention. If she hadn’t been looking at the live feeds from the drones and seen what was happening just in the nick of time, he’d have likely been killed.

She said that she had to do her part and that she was glad that he’d made it, but her attention was on Prescott. Jack’s suspicions that she harbored feelings for the scientist were confirmed by her refusing to leave his side. Talk about a spring/summer romance. Good for them.

Jack spent the days after the attack trying to find some kind of balance between the rest that his mother insisted he have and keeping everything moving. He got yelled at a lot, but he still had a job to do.

The closer they got to the Perseus Cluster, the more apparent it was how much work there still was to do. Some systems that were marginally functional in the beginning had failed, and they had to find workarounds to get everything back in operating order.

Sometimes they couldn’t do that in the short term, and they had to turn off whatever had failed until they could devote the people and resources to get it back online if they could.

Thankfully none of the critical systems had failed, although some were showing troubling signs. The biggest of those worries came from engineering.

With the engineers from headquarters at her side, Danek finally had experienced people to look over the fusion plants. One of them was fully functional, but one had been problematic from the get-go, and no one really trusted it.

It was getting more challenging to manage. It was reaching a point where they’d have to shut it down, tear it apart, and fix it if they could.

That might not be a long-term problem because the engineers had brought a third fusion plant online, even though they didn’t trust it with more than a half load because it was flakier than the other one.

The fourth of their fusion plants was inoperable and most likely needed to be replaced, something that just wasn’t in the cards right now.

A quantum jump took almost the entire output of two fusion plants. Three of them working together could comfortably provide power for the whole ship when the quantum drive pulsed them from one stellar system to another. No more brownouts.

When they were ready to make the jump to the system with the gate to Perseus Cluster, Jack was on the bridge and not wearing the sling his mother had prescribed. He’d keep his arm on the armrest, but he had to present a picture of strength for the next part of their little drama.

They’d come up with a plan to get his father over to whatever ship was in command at the gateway to the cluster. There, he’d then have to take control and make his way to wherever LaChasse was on his own.

“We’re ready to jump, sir,” Calvo said.

Jack straightened, cracked his neck, took a deep breath, and turned his attention to the main screen. “Take us in.”

Hunter jumped. After multiple tuning efforts by Danek’s staff, there was still a strong twitch, but it wasn’t even close to as bad as it had been that first time. The engineering team had performed miracles, and he was delighted with the results. It beat feeling like he’d been turned inside out by a wide margin. That was an experience that he never wanted to repeat.

They arrived in the gateway system, everything on the plot quickly resolved. They were less than half an hour from the gate itself, and he had a clear view of what was happening there.

It wasn’t good.

He’d expected to find civilian ships fleeing the cluster in droves, so the almost five hundred ships crossing the system to the next gate were no surprise. The number of cruisers on this side of the gate was far too high for his liking, though.

The invasion plan called for a few cruisers directing operations in this system. Instead, there were dozens of them arrayed around the quantum gate. Easily half of the forces that should be fighting the Locusts.

“Start examining the transponder data,” he ordered. “I want to know if the flagship is here. And head for our jump point at maximum military power.”

He’d expected Vice Admiral LaChasse to be in the forward combat zone but was now questioning that assumption. With so many cruisers in the system, the odds of her being here were significantly higher.

After a few moments, Calvo nodded. “I’m detecting the flagship in the middle of the cruisers, sir.”

Jack punched the comm button on the arm of his chair and opened a channel to his father, who was already aboard his cutter. “It looks like Admiral LaChasse is here, and she’s got two dozen cruisers with her.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why keep so much of our combat strength out of the cluster? She should be in there pushing the Locusts back.”

“I hope that you get that sorted out in a hurry because I’m not going to wait around to find out. She’ll get suspicious if we launch more than one cutter, so you need to take command as quickly as you can. Once you board her ship, we’ll launch Nastasi and the shore patrol to take her into custody. Then we head for the cluster at once.”

“I still think that’s a bad idea,” his father warned. “You should allow us to regroup so we can accompany you. Hunter is a big ship, but she hasn’t got a lot of offensive power. If we surround you with cruisers, you have cover.”

“That sounds good until you think about it,” Jack said. “The cruisers are more vulnerable to enemy fire than we are. We can’t shoot the Locusts up, but the odds of them hurting us badly enough to stop us is low. We’ve got to get to the supply depot and arm this vessel. You can fight them however you like, but unless we upgrade everything on Hunter before we get into a serious fight, we’re going to lose.”

His father sighed. “I suppose you’re right, but it still cuts against the grain. We’ll get it all sorted out. We’re not giving the Perseus Cluster to these invaders. We kicked them out once, and we can do it again.”

“I sure hope so. Good luck, and don’t get yourself shot. I’ll wait for LaChasse to call and let you know to proceed. Romanoff out.”

And with that, he terminated the connection to focus on the main screen.

“Incoming communication,” the recruit sitting at the communications console said a few minutes later. “It’s from the flagship and indicates that it’s Vice Admiral LaChasse. She’s asking for you by name.”

Probably with a pithy adjective to spice things up.

“By all means, put her on the main screen.”

The main screen switched from a tactical plot of the system to the bridge of a cruiser. Jack didn’t know who the captain of the vessel was, but they couldn’t be happy that LaChasse was sitting in their chair. That was pretty ballsy, even for a flag officer.

The woman glared at him. “Goddammit, Romanoff! I ordered you to remain at Faust.”

Jack smiled urbanely. “Once again, Vice Admiral LaChasse, I don’t work for you. We’ve been over this multiple times. What’s the situation in the cluster? Why are all your ships here instead of fighting the Locusts?”

“We’re evacuating everyone we can from the Perseus Cluster because the damned Locusts are everywhere. We can’t hold.”

That was really bad. Definitely the worst case scenario.

“So, you’re just going to let them have the cluster and all those people?”

“We don’t have a choice, Romanoff. You and that floating hunk of rock aren’t going to make one bit of difference either, and you know it. The smart thing for you to do is stand down. I’m already going to court-martial you. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be. I’ll send some people over to take control of that relic. If you resist, they’ll use whatever force is necessary to take you into custody. Don’t make them shoot you.”

Jack smiled slightly at the opportunity she’d just presented him. “Oh, no need for that. I’ll be on a cutter to you in the next five minutes, though I will position my ship to jump as soon as we get this settled once and for all. Delta Orionis out.”

He signaled his father to launch in five minutes. The plan was for him to make a fast approach on the flagship. Jack would launch another cutter with Commodore Nastasi and the shore patrol when his father secured command of the task force. No need to spook them too early.

They’d brought modern cutters for the people leaving the ship, so Jack would still have his full complement of small craft, though most were nonfunctional. They had far too few people that could fly one of the big cutters to use for this mission anyway.

“Time to jump point?” he asked.

“We came out in a decent location, sir,” Calvo said. “We’ve still got about half an hour at this speed.”

It would take his father’s cutter at least that long to get to the flagship, so he’d hold when they were ready to jump. He needed to get Nastasi off the ship and clear of Hunter before they could go.

They were a little over halfway to the jump point when the comm officer said, “Sir, we’re receiving a transmission from the flagship. It’s going out to all ships. Code Hot Gates in ten minutes. Do you know what that means?”

“It means they’re blowing the gates,” Jack almost snarled. “Calvo, if we lose the additional range that a pair of active gates gives us when we jump, is that going to impact our ability to get into the cluster?”

“I won’t know for sure until we successfully jump or fail, sir. We’re right at the limit, and I can’t even guess.”

“Then we assume we need that extra cushion. Get us to where we can jump at flank speed. How long until we can make the jump?”

“We should be able to jump in ten minutes, but we won’t have any margin for error at all, sir. If engineering could give us a little more acceleration, that would help.”

“Engineering, redline the fusion drives.”

A new timer appeared in the corner of the main display as they raced toward the jump point. Calvo issued warnings over the all-hands channel without being ordered to.

He was definitely growing into his new role and would make a fine watch officer one day. He still didn’t have nearly enough experience, but his confidence level had skyrocketed over the last week.

Jack called Nastasi and warned her that she needed to launch now. They’d run out of time.

To his shock, her acknowledgment was interrupted by gunfire. Then the channel went dead.

“Marines to the small craft bay,” he ordered. “It sounds like Selter got his hands on a weapon somehow. Secure everything and have medical on standby.”

No matter how that turned out, he didn’t have time to deal with it. They had no margin for error. If Nastasi couldn’t launch now—which certainly seemed likely—then she’d have to come with them, and Jack’s father would have to manage on his own.

When they hit thirty seconds, Jack asked the question on his mind just to make sure. “Are we still going to beat the deadline, Calvo?”

“I believe so, sir. Barely.”

“Don’t wait for my order. Jump as soon as you can.”

Jack watched the timer count down, and with just a couple of seconds left, Calvo hit the button. The universe twitched as they jumped into the Perseus Cluster.

“We’re detecting several hundred civilian vessels, sir,” Calvo said as the plot updated. “We’re also detecting weapons fire deeper in the system. It looks like a dozen cruisers are trying to hold back a swarm of Locust drones. There’s a second, even bigger wave of drones on the way from the other gate in the system.

“And there goes the gate. What do we do now, sir?”

“We do our jobs, protect the civilians, and stop the enemy. Give me a tactical assessment, gunnery. How bad is it?”

The young woman at that station scanned her board and shook her head. “It’s bad, sir. I haven’t seen this much drone activity in any simulation short of nightmare mode. There are only a dozen cruisers, and they look like they’re already in a bad way.”

The choice was an easy one. “We have to get as many civilians out of here as we can. Calvo, can we evacuate them back to the last system?”

The midshipman turned and shook his head. “No, sir. I checked the readings post jump, and we can’t make it back without an existing quantum tunnel to give us that extra bit of range. The ships that made the first jump were probably specialized scouts and had greater range. We just can’t do it.”

Well, that certainly complicated things.

37

Jack studied the plot of the system. The situation wasn’t good. The defenders were outgunned, and there was no way that they could stand up to that kind of firepower, particularly since they had no way to retreat. The only vessel that could leave this system now was his, and Hunter couldn’t go back the way she’d come.

The communications officer turned in her seat, frowning. “Sir, my backroom people said they picked up a powerful signal from the gate just before it blew up. Not that we have a lot of experience with that kind of thing, but they can’t make head or tail of it.”

“Was it directed at anyone?” he asked, frowning as he tried to imagine what it was.

“No, sir. It was omnidirectional and powerful. It lasted about ten seconds and seemed to be some kind of loop. When it ended, the gate blew up.”

Jack grimaced. The most likely answer to the mystery was that his father hadn’t told the whole story about their plan to destroy the gate to the rest of the Confederation. If his suspicion was correct, all the gates in the Perseus Cluster had been sabotaged the same way. When that signal reached the other gate in this system, it would keep the destruction rolling.

Since the gates couldn’t forward signals from one end to the other, he wasn’t sure how it worked, but if he was right, the quantum gate network in the cluster would self-destruct before the Locusts knew what was happening.

That would isolate every system, which would seriously inconvenience the enemy, but it wouldn’t stop them. They could travel faster than light, and they’d get their act together eventually.

What it did do was give him and his ship a chance to pull things together, starting with rescuing as many civilians as he could.

“Ignore the signal for now,” Jack ordered. “We need to gather as many people as we can. How long do you estimate that the fight deeper in the system is going to last, Guns?”

“No more than half an hour, sir,” the woman at the head gunnery console said. “Those cruisers are barely able to handle what they’re dealing with right now. When that second wave hits, I’d be astonished if they lasted ten minutes.”

“Do they have any other options?”

“If they could turn and run right now, they could get to us before the leading elements of the follow-up wave caught up with them. But they’re tied up with the fight they’re in. Call it two hours before we’re the last warship in the system and fully engaged.

“Since we didn’t come through the gate and we’re a great distance away, it’s possible they won’t notice us if we don’t do something to draw their attention.”

“They’ll just kill the civilians,” Jack said, shaking his head. “We didn’t come this far to watch the bastards murder our people. We’re going to need a different plan.

“Signal the cruisers. Maybe they can give us some other options. Meanwhile, head for the old gate position. If we have to fight, that’s where we stand.”

Two hours was an impossible timeframe. Even if all the civilians abandoned their ships and tried to come to Hunter in their own cutters, there wasn’t enough time. There was no way they could save everyone.

“Incoming communication from one of the vessels fighting deeper in the system,” the comm officer said a few minutes later. “The signal header indicates she’s the cruiser Nautilus.”

Jack didn’t know anything about Nautilus or her commanding officer, but if they were calling him, they were probably the senior officer still fighting in the system.

“What’s our transmission lag at this point?”

“Twenty-seven seconds, sir.”

“On screen.”

The main screen switched to the view of the inside of the cruiser bridge. A woman with rear admiral’s tabs stared back at him. Her expression was one of grim determination with just a hint of hope.

“Delta Orionis, this is Nautilus. Are you able to contribute to the fight?”

Direct into the point.

“Negative, Nautilus. We have no operational missile batteries, and only five percent of our defensive lasers are online. We’re trying to come up with a plan to save as many civilians as we can, but we can’t change the battle’s outcome. I’m sorry.”

While he was waiting for a response, he hit the comm to engineering.

“Engineering.”

“Bridge. We’ve got several hundred civilian vessels out there, and we’re not going to be able to evacuate the people on them in the time we have left. Is it possible to extend the quantum field around us a little bit farther so that we can take them with us when we jump?”

There was a brief pause. “Theoretically, yes. The problem comes when you start getting down into the specifics. It would likely take significantly more power than before, so we’d have to dedicate the third fusion plant to the jump. It’s also going to put a lot of stress on the system. I don’t know that I can recommend that plan, sir.”

“It’s not like we have a choice. We can’t leave them here to die. Make the arrangements. Bridge out.”

He looked at Calvo. “Select a system we can get to within our time constraints. Set a course to bring us around to where we can jump and be prepared to do so immediately on my command.”

The midshipman nodded and began tapping at his console furiously. “I’ve got one, sir. We can have a line of sight on a system that doesn’t have quantum gates or humans in the window we have. We’ve got very little information about the target system from the original survey, and while it’s not home to anything that can support life, it would give us a place we could sort everything out after the fight.”

Jack waited for the admiral to say something, but she didn’t. He realized that she had to be listening to what he was saying to engineering and then Calvo.

She nodded a minute later. “Not what I was hoping to hear, but better than I expected. We’ll keep them off you for as long as we can.

“Everything in the records tells me that you’re a dedicated and competent officer, but you have to be short of trained personnel. I’m going to detach one of my cruisers to assist you. If you can take them with you when you depart, that would be excellent. If not, they’ll stand off any drones that get to you as well as they can. Godspeed, Delta Orionis. Nautilus out.”

The transmission ended without him ever learning her name.

“Comm, signal all the civilian ships and get them to the jump point. Once we arrive on station, they’ll need to get as close as possible to us before we jump. It’s the only way they’re getting out of this deathtrap, so be exceptionally persuasive.”

Hunter began accelerating toward the jump point at flank speed. Most of the civilian vessels followed instructions, but not all. Some of them chose to run in other directions, likely hoping they could escape.

That was folly, but there was nothing Jack could do to convince panicked people that they were wrong. They’d have to live with the consequences of their mistake, however briefly.

Thankfully for the rescue operation, the civilian ships were closer and could beat the drones to the jump point. Galactic topography had smiled on them for once.

One of the cruisers broke away from the fight and raced on a course that would meet them near the jump point. None of the drones that tried to chase her made it clear of the fight as the other cruisers cut them down, but that didn’t stop the lead element of the second wave from changing course to come after the vessel.

The transponder of the cruiser finally caught his attention, and he realized that it was his old command, Hawkwing.

Unbelievable. That couldn’t be an accident, and he silently thanked the admiral. He was grateful his old crew would get a chance to survive, but he didn’t look forward to another meeting with their new captain.

“Will that second group of drones catch Hawkwing?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Calvo said. “She’ll get most of the way to the rendezvous, but the drones will catch her short of the jump point.”

“Signal Hawkwing that we’ll divert to assist. Order the civilian vessels to continue to the rendezvous point.

“When we get there, they’ll have to get as close as possible to our hull. Touching is probably a bad idea, but it’s better than being left behind. There’s only so far we can extend the quantum field, and they need to know if they’re not close enough, they won’t be coming with us.”

With their lack of experience, it would be risky, but he’d have to chance it.

“Set course for Hawkwing, Calvo. We need to time things so that we’re in range to assist, but we don’t waste any time. It’ll have to be a last-second affair since those drones are faster than we are, and I don’t want to cede any ground we don’t have to. Otherwise, the second wave will catch us.”

That plan was their best bet to shield the civilian vessels, but it was risky for Hawkwing, and there was nothing he could do to change that. This plan would either work, or his old ship was screwed.

While they were maneuvering, he got an update from the small craft bay. Selter was dead, and Nastasi was injured again, though not severely. Some of the shore patrol were less lucky, though they might still pull through.

Selter had tried to kill her again and almost succeeded. She didn’t need surgery this time but was getting stitches and demanding to know via the Marines when Hunter could get back to the last system, and she could send her remaining people to assist his father.

Jack made sure the Marine he was speaking with knew that he was too busy to deal with her right now. She’d have to stay with her people while the battle played itself out. There would be time to figure things out after they escaped this damned trap.

The second wave of drones washed over the defending cruisers, and Jack had a front-row seat to view how overmatched the Navy was as cruiser after cruiser was destroyed. The phased packet plasma guns performed well, but there weren’t enough of them to make a difference. In less than ten minutes, they were all gone. All of them except Hawkwing.

He thought they were in good shape right up until the drones chasing Hawkwing pulled a last-minute surprise. While Hunter was still out of range to engage with her lasers, they increased their speed by almost fifteen percent. That allowed them to lunge for Hawkwing before Hunter could intervene.

The ensuing fight was short and brutal. The Confederation cruiser fought well, using her weapons to take a heavy toll on the enemy, but her drives were disabled within sixty seconds. She was still fighting, but Hawkwing was doomed.

“Drones at extreme laser range,” the head gunner said.

“Open fire,” Jack ordered calmly. “Don’t stop until they’re all dead or we can’t shoot anymore.”

“Aye, sir.”

The laser batteries that they’d repaired came online and began firing. Of course, some of them immediately failed—occasionally catastrophically—but most of them worked. Sadly, not all of them had line of sight on the enemy. The lasers raised from their pits to fire, but Hunter’s hull blocked many of them from being able to target the drones.

In space, the beams were invisible. The only way to see the result of their fire was the drones exploding.

They of course maneuvered to avoid being shot, which took some of the pressure off the critically damaged cruiser, but it also allowed the drones to get closer to his ship.

Hunter started taking hits, but she was far more heavily armored than any cruiser could ever be. All the drones were doing was making new pits and gouges on her surface. This was a very lopsided fight, and he was happy to keep it that way.

The drones reached their most efficient range, and the two sides exchanged volleys for several minutes before the last of the drones was destroyed. With that done, Hunter raced to the stricken Hawkwing.

“Calvo, we’re going to slow down when we reach them and catch Hawkwing on the front of our ship. We’ll push her to the rendezvous. Comm, let Hawkwing know.”

If his crew thought he was crazy, they were smart enough not to tell him so. Still, the fact that he was even contemplating running his ship into another one brought back all the memories of his near collision with the liner.

He didn’t have a choice. It was the only way to save the crew of his old ship. The last time was a lapse on his part, but this time, it was a conscious decision that might save lives.

Jack had expected some response from Hawkwing, but there was nothing. Maybe they’d lost power, or their communications array was gone.

Slowing to the lowest possible speed, Hunter nudged the wreck that had once been a Navy cruiser. The front of the battleship was wide enough to hold them, and when the ship was firmly seated, they were able to accelerate again and come around in a wide arc.

They wouldn’t be able to do much in the way of changing course or slowing down without the wreckage separating from them, but they could at least get to the rendezvous point on time.

Well, almost on time. The fighting had cost them precious minutes, and the Locusts were sprinting to catch up. Knowing how much jockeying the civilian ships would require to get in place, Jack was afraid that the drones might actually get within weapons range before Hunter was ready to jump.

A check of the timer confirmed that it was too soon to see if his theory about the gates blowing up was accurate. The strange signal had reached the other gate in the system, but it was too far away to see if anything had happened to it. They’d eventually be able to confirm or refute his theory, but it wouldn’t happen today. It was time to get out.

“Make sure the civilian ships are in as close as they can get,” he ordered the communications officer again. “We’re only going to get one try at this. Remind them of the stakes, Comm.”

In the end, it took all of his patience and the comm officer yelling at any number of different captains for them to pull into a tight ball. Once they were as close as they thought they could get, Jack ordered them in even closer.

A few of them impacted Hunter, damaging their ships. There was a lot of noise on the comm channels about that, but they’d finally clustered together as closely as a few hundred civilian ships could get to a massive asteroid.

It was totally unsafe and utterly insane, but if it worked, it wasn’t crazy.

The approaching Locusts were about to enter Hunter’s extreme laser range, which meant that they were only minutes away from being able to fire on Hunter and her charges. It was time to get the hell out of here.

“Take us out of here, Mister Calvo,” he ordered, tensing and hoping everything held together.

Calvo pressed the console, and they jumped.

Each jump since the first had improved because engineering had tuned the drives. They had gotten to the point that they were routine.

This jump was far worse than the first one. Not only did he feel as if he’d been flipped inside out, but he was also being simultaneously beaten by whips and set on fire.

The sensation seemed to last forever. Then the lights went out, plunging the bridge into darkness. Even the consoles and screens went dark, something that was never supposed to happen.

The emergency lighting came on a few moments later, but they’d obviously lost primary power. He noted vaguely that even the artificial gravity had failed.

Had they made the jump, or were they still trapped in the system with the Locusts? He had no idea, but if they hadn’t jumped, they were dead.

38

The attacking drones never arrived so Jack took that as a sign they had made it. That jump had been vicious enough that a couple of people on the bridge had been knocked unconscious. Thankfully, they all woke up in short order and seemed healthy enough, though they all had splitting headaches.

“Calvo, I’m leaving the bridge in your hands while I check in with engineering in person,” Jack said. “Since comms are down, send someone if anything comes up, but use your best judgment.”

“Aye, sir,” he said, cradling his head. “Without power to the consoles, I’m not sure what that might look like, but I’ll handle it.”

“Good man.”

Jack left the bridge, and his Marine guards joined him, one helping him maneuver since he was down an arm and had lost his sling in the chaos. They stayed close to the floor because if power came back on abruptly, he didn’t want to fall from a great height. He hoped everybody else was being cautious.

When they arrived in engineering, it was a hive of activity and portable lights. Emergency lighting had failed here, which was more than a little ironic. One would think engineering would make sure their own emergency systems worked, but this was Hunter.

It took a couple of minutes to locate Danek amid the chaos, and he was hesitant to interrupt what she was doing, but he needed to know what was going on. He found her by one of the fusion plants. They had its panels off, and she was directing work inside the plant.

She turned to look at him, using her hand to stop the spin that imparted, and grimaced. “Sorry about that, sir. The jump was significantly more stressful than I anticipated. It overloaded the worst of the three fusion plants at peak power draw, and it crashed hard when emergency shutdown protocols activated.

“The other two picked up the load—barely—but the second-worst unit failed in less than a second under the stress. A moment later, the last plant went down, so we’re without power, except for what’s in the batteries. I don’t know the condition of the worst two, and I won’t for a while yet, but this plant should be recoverable. I’m estimating half an hour before we have power again, though at reduced levels for at least a few hours.”

It wasn’t the best news, but it was far from the worst.

“The bridge lost all power,” he said. “All the consoles are dead, so we’ve got no eyes or ears on what’s going on around us and no control. Can you send someone to get us back online? If the enemy is still out there somewhere, I’d really like to know about it.”

She nodded. “I’ll send some people to find what failed and get you back online as soon as I can.”

“If the fusion plants failed in the middle of the jump, would that damage the quantum drive?” he asked. “Would it drop us in the middle of nowhere, or did we make it? What kind of scenario are we looking at?”

Danek shrugged. “I have no idea, sir. We never considered the possibility of a power failure mid-jump. My guess is that we either stayed where we were or we made the jump successfully. Since I’ve seen no sign of attack on the fusion drives—which would be a prime target—I think that we made it.

“As for the quantum drive, I can’t run a test on it without power. I may be able to do it in a couple of hours, but I wouldn’t hold my breath if I were you. We’re not going anywhere without two functional power plants anyway.”

Jack sighed. That’s what he’d expected to hear, and it wasn’t good news.

“We’ve got to get power back because we have civilians outside we need to ferry over from their ships. If they actually made it here with us, that is.

“Oh, when you get the power back on, don’t activate the gravity. We need to allow everyone the opportunity to get into a position that doesn’t injure them.”

“I’ve already got that covered, sir,” she said. “When the power comes online, I can program a fraction of one gravity into the plates. That’ll start everyone drifting slowly back down toward the floor. Even if they were up at the ceiling, it won’t take them more than a couple of minutes to settle to the deck.

“Then I start stepping up the gravity over about ten minutes to make sure that everyone has time. In fact, we can bring it up to one-sixth gravity and let the search for the injured continue while we get things sorted out.”

He considered her plan and nodded. “Go with it. The next big thing is figuring out where the hell we are. I don’t suppose you have any way to bring the sensors back online?”

She shook her head. “We’re going to have to wait until the power comes back on.”

“Got it. I’ll find something to occupy myself while I wait. Get us back online, Lieutenant. And good job holding things together. It might just have saved a lot of lives.”

Next up was finding out what happened to Hawkwing. It took twenty minutes to gather half a dozen Marines to see what conditions aboard his old ship were like. The rest were busy with damage control and search and rescue.

He and the Marines made their way up to the surface via one of the disused forward missile batteries as soon as they’d donned vacuum suits.

When he looked out, he could see a star close in the distance as his helmet’s polarization cut in to keep him from being blinded. Hunter hadn’t ended up in deep space, at least. There was a decided lack of Locust drones, which cemented the likelihood that they’d made it to the target system.

He could see some running lights in the near distance. That had to be civilian vessels, so at least some of them made it. At this distance, his eyes weren’t up to the task of telling him anything about them, but Locust drones didn’t have external lights.

Using thruster packs, they made their way to Hawkwing in reasonably short order. The cruiser floated off the front of the asteroid, shot, burned, torn, and partially crushed.

The crushing and tearing likely came from Hunter pushing the disabled cruiser. His old ship would never again fly under her own power, and Jack was more than sure he’d catch the blame.

She had running lights, so they still had power, even if it was only batteries. That meant that the airlocks could be operational.

It was highly unusual for anyone without a cutter to come calling on a ship from outside, so there wasn’t anything like a buzzer at the airlock. They were going to have to make their way inside and deal with whoever was on the other side as carefully as possible.

If anyone alive was on the other side.

Since he knew the cruiser like the back of his hand, he was able to find an airlock near the bridge. That section of the ship was mostly intact, and he hoped the command crew was still alive.

They entered the airlock in two groups and soon were all inside the ship. His suit told him that by some miracle, the atmospheric pressure was still good in this section. There was even gravity, so primary power had to be online.

Jack carefully popped his helmet and tucked it in his injured arm, then led the way to the bridge. There were two Marines standing watch outside—which seemed like a terrible waste of resources under the circumstances—who briefly stared at him in surprise before bringing their weapons up.

“We’re from Delta Orionis,” Jack said, raising his good hand. “Don’t shoot.”

One of the Marines accompanying him stepped up, putting herself between him and the others. “Stand down, Marine. Let’s let the officers settle this while we make sure they stay safe.”

The eyes of one of the surprised Marines widened even further. He took a step forward, lowering his weapon. “Captain Romanoff? Is that you, sir?”

“It’s me. Martinez, right?”

Martinez nodded. “Yes, sir. I didn’t expect to see anyone from outside, and I sure as hell didn’t expect to see you, sir. I thought you’d left the service.”

“Let’s just say that things took an unexpected turn after I left Hawkwing. I’d like to speak with Captain Magri. Do you mind letting him know that we’re here?”

Martinez nodded and touched the communicator beside the door. “Captain Magri? We have a rescue party from Delta Orionis here, and they’d like to see you.”

While there was no verbal response, the hatch slid open, and the man that had purchased Jack’s old command stared out at him. He started to say something and then obviously recognized Jack because he scowled.

“Romanoff? What the hell are you doing here? You were expelled from the service.”

Jack smiled. “Actually, no. I got orders to assume command of Delta Orionis, and that came with a promotion to commodore. We’ve come to assist in rescue operations, Captain. What can we do?”

Jack looked over his shoulder and saw that the bridge was empty. The other officers must be overseeing rescue operations. That made sense, but Jack would’ve left someone else and gotten his hands dirty.

“You came in that old museum ship? That’s not a Navy vessel, and you’re no commodore. I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not going to be part of it. Martinez, take this impostor into custody.”

The Marine looked at his captain in confusion and blinked. “Sir?”

“Are you deaf, Marine? Our ship is disabled, and we will assume command of that relic. Take this impostor into custody.”

“We don’t have time for this kind of nonsense, Captain Magri,” Jack said firmly. Two more of his Marines moved in front of him. “If you don’t want our assistance, we’ll go back to my ship, and you can contact us when you’re ready to talk. I’m not going to interfere with your command, but you’re not going to interfere with mine either. Your ship is broken beyond repair, so you’ll be along soon enough. Just keep that in mind.”

Magri sputtered in impotent fury, but he didn’t have any other options. Jack gestured for his people to retreat.

Their next conversation would undoubtedly be ugly, but he didn’t have time to deal with Magri’s drama. He had to get his ship back into somewhat operable condition and start rescuing the civilians. Then he had to make plans for what came next.

He needed to invest the time to perform more repairs and consolidate the successes that they’d achieved. He also needed to deal with the political aspects of their new problems.

Magri obviously wasn’t going to accept his authority, at least in the short term. That was too bad since he had no say in the matter unless he wanted to stay aboard his wrecked ship.

There were also going to be problems with the civilians. They were out of immediate danger, but now they were trapped in a system they couldn’t get out of without his ship. Since taking them along with him had almost broken Hunter, he wouldn’t try that trick again, so he had to move everyone aboard his ship.

The situation was basically a powder keg waiting for the right spark. He had to defuse the bomb first if he could. If not, everything he’d worked so hard to pull together might come apart.

In the end, Jack had to get Hunter fully operational, which meant they had to find the system where the Navy had hidden the rest of the battleships and the supply depot that was supposed to keep them in usable condition.

Not that he expected to find them in usable condition. Not by a long shot.

Hunter was the only functional—by certain definitions—Confederation warship in the Perseus Cluster. Everything depended on her.

He sighed as they left Hawkwing and began making their way to Hunter’s closest airlock. One way or the other, they’d push the Locusts back. The Confederation was counting on them, and he wasn’t going to let them down.

The battle to take back the cluster started now.

* * *

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ABOUT THE AUTHORS

J. N. Chaney is a USA Today Bestselling author and has a Master's of Fine Arts in Creative Writing. He fancies himself quite the Super Mario Bros. fan. When he isn’t writing or gaming, you can find him online at jnchaney.com.

He migrates often, but was last seen in Las Vegas, NV. Any sightings should be reported, as they are rare.

* * *

Terry Mixon is a #1 Bestselling Military Science Fiction author who served as a non-commissioned officer in the United States Army 101st Airborne Division. He later worked alongside the flight controllers in the Mission Control Center at the NASA Johnson Space Center supporting the Space Shuttle, the International Space Station, and other human spaceflight projects.

He now writes full time while living in Texas with his lovely wife and a pounce of cats. Visit terrymixon.com to learn more.