FOW Snippet 6

 Last one.

Sitrep: Still no word from Goodlifeguide yet.

Despite my plan of my usual November and December off for holiday prep, I dived into Tauren Invasion. It is a rehash of the ground fighting in several locations plus prep and such from the Tauren-Federation war spanning the 5 books. There is a lot of material mixed into it too.

Anyway, I just did the second act yesterday, I was in my groove the past 2 days doing the entire act of 19 chapters in 2 days. (don't get cute, yes half of that was copy/paste) I'm still happy.

Oh, for you Bootstrap Colony fans out there, BSC3 has been sent to Rea the other day. Expect it out in December.

So, that being said, on to the snippet!

Chapter 6

 

Atlas XIV, Sigma Sector

 

Catherine Ramichov, vice admiral of the Horathian fleet and self-acclaimed pirate empress,  smiled as she read the report of the incoming ships. Her audacious raid on the enemy's stargate had helped her in many interesting ways. It had provided the antimatter fuel she desperately needed to revive and move the battle moon for one.

It had crippled the enemy's gate in the sector too. It had hit their morale and hopefully kicked off another political crisis for their administration to have to handle. And it had caused a massive uptick in morale in her own people.

More importantly, people saw it as a bold strike against a seemingly invincible foe. One she had orchestrated. The only thing that would have been better was if she'd led the raid herself.

Well, you can't have everything she thought with a mental shrug.

Her people were done feeling sorry for themselves. She wanted to renew their sense of purpose, to return them to basics. The idea of an empire was out. There was no way they could take the Federation head on and win. She knew that deep down. The best they could do was to raid and hide.

Which was where this massive battle moon came in. It was her base of operations, the ultimate Tortuga, the ultimate pirate nest. But for it to remain her capital, it had to be kept hidden.

Unfortunately for her, the enemy was getting a little too close to it for comfort. They were good at ferreting out any ion trail her people left. Eventually, she knew that they'd find the right trail to her base. She hoped to be long gone by then.

In order to do that though, it was up to someone else. She decided it was deep enough into the evening to seek her out.

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Newly minted Rear Admiral Elvira Varbossa stared at the report on her desk blankly. No matter how she looked it didn't change the things running around in her mind like flying pests.

"What's the problem?" a familiar contralto voice asked. She looked up to Catherine.

"It's just …" She paused to organize her thoughts. She was in her second trimester and got easily distracted. She was also emotional from the hormonal swings.

Catherine sashayed over to her and sat on the edge of her desk. A few of the papers moved or fell off the desk. Neither lady seemed to care. Elvira seemed to glow with her pregnancy. She was also off most of the meds. Doctor Nutell had added some hypnotic suggestions to help control her, but for the time being, they were not necessary.

They had ships under construction in the yard as well as the other projects. Admiral Hyman Preece had pulled Elivra off the yard projects to focus on the battle moon's repairs.

"Just what?" Catherine prompted gently. She could see the wheels turning in her lover's mind. She hoped that she wouldn't have to have Elvira adjusted again. She was coming along better now. She'd adapted and her depression had lifted with her workload increase and the pregnancy.

She always seemed happiest when she had a challenge in front of her, one that she could solve. It was when she had to face the bigger picture that she struggled. That was why Catherine was determined to keep Elvira focused on engineering as much as possible.

It did suck that she couldn't use her lover as a sounding board. Oh, she did in general but only vague comments about this subject or that, nothing detailed.

"Well, to be honest I didn't think we'd find the fuel. Getting it from the Federation …," Elvira shook her head in bemusement.

"I know, bold," Catherine said with a cheshire grin.

"Bold? Bold?!?" Elvira threw her head back and laughed. Her lover blinked at the reaction. "Bold?" she echoed again as she dashed a tear with the back of her hand a few seconds later. Catherine began to relax as she saw the humor in the reaction. She smiled indulgently and cocked her head.

"Got it out of your system?" Catherine asked as she offered a tissue.

Elvira took it and blew her nose. She snorted as she dabbed at the tip and then crumpled the paper up. "My father would have said beyond brass ones. Steel, hell, adamantium ones," she replied as she shook her head. "To go in there and steal …," she shook her head again.

Catherine smirked. "Well, we are pirates, stealing goes with the territory, right?"

Elvira snorted. "True." She waited a beat. "So, back to basics?"

Catherine nodded slightly. "Pretty much." It was why they were building cruisers. Ships with enough legs to get around but also to stand up to the Feds if necessary. But she'd put her foot down and had refused to build anything bigger than a battlecruiser.

"So," Elvira said as she crumpled the tissue up some more and tossed it in the trash. She ran her fingertips through her raven hair. It was silky and shined in the office light.

"So?" Catherine said as she crossed her arms. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Elvira admitted. "I liked going legit. But …," she shrugged, clearly uncomfortable about the topic change.

"Really?" Catherine said in a slightly disappointed tone of voice.

"It's not the pirate thing or the loss of life. I think it was smart; you set their gate project back by years according to the report while also stealing the antimatter. Two birds with one stone."

Catherine nodded but grimaced slightly. The idea had been to take the damn gate out. That hadn't happened but she'd take damaging it and slowing the Feds up. The antimatter made a great consolation prize.

"Egg on their navy's face is a third stone," she murmured.

Elvira blinked and then nodded. "Politics," she said. "I tend to forget that side of the equation," she admitted wryly.

"No surprise there since you are the techno nerd," Catherine replied with a teasing grin. "How about you leave me to the strategy and the politics and I leave you to play with your spanners?"

Elvira snorted.

"Come on, we make a good team that way," Catherine invited. "Remember?" she asked with an inviting lilt in her voice.

Elvira nodded and looked away. She bit her lip slightly.

"Hey, come on," Catherine used a finger to draw her lover's chin back to her so they could look at each other. "What gives?"

"It's … it's just the danger involved."

"We won."

"Did we? Sure, we won the battle. But we also pissed them off. They are going to be even more determined to find us. And they now have a fresh trail to follow."

Catherine's finger dropped. They stared into each other's eyes. She saw the shadows of concern and doubt in her lover's eyes. After a moment, she nodded. "That's true," she finally admitted as she looked up and away. "I can't help that. Without risk there is no reward," she said quietly.

Elvira bit her lip again.

"Which leads us back to you. The pressure is on you to perform. We need that hyperdrive back up and running."

Elvira rolled her eyes and sat back. "I knew it was coming back to me. That's the pressure side; it's coming back to me. I'm an engineer but this is …," she indicated the ship.

"If anyone can get this thing moving again, it's you," Catherine said.

"You have no idea how much is involved. Fuel was just one variable in a very complex equation. We've got to rebuild systems, fix stuff that we tore out as salvage, tune the force emitters on the outer shell …," she shook her head.

Catherine winced.

"Sensors, alignment of sensors … computer systems … who is going to run this tub?"

"Let me worry about that," Catherine said.

Elvira sighed. "Okay, I'll handle the hardware. Sure, fine."

"Hey, team remember?"

Elvira nodded after a moment.

"So … what do you need?"

"Well, we've been working on what we can. The systems to the northern quadrant were taken out by Commander Cho. He did a good job, he took them out carefully and documented everything."

Catherine nodded. Cho had been methodical but slow. Her father had gotten impatient and had ordered him replaced. Cho's replacement Captain Forest had taken a slash and burn approach to systems that the giant battle moon was no longer going to use.

The components had either been used to repair other parts of the station or as fodder for her manufacturing. She couldn't blame the captain, it wasn't like there were a lot of high quality material sources around the battle moon. In fact there were none, the moon had dropped out of hyperspace in deep space and had taken centuries to drift to her present position.

"Once we get the hyperdrive going we can get out of this crack. Hit the reset and really screwup their search pattern for us," Catherine said.

Elvira snorted. "We can only go so far," she warned.

Catherine frowned as she got up and went behind her lover and began to rub her shoulders to relax her. "What do you mean?" she asked after a moment.

"I ran the calculations. If we can get this tub moving at peak efficiency, we can move her about one to three hundred light years."

"Three hundred light years … so not into another sector?" Catherine left the idea of getting the battle moon into top condition aside for the moment. She knew that was a pipe dream. She was dismayed by the fuel needed though.

Elvira shook her head. "No. Not even close. And I said three hundred is the top end. It is more likely closer to one hundred light years. That's a one-shot jump, which I doubt we can do anyway since we'd be flying more or less blind. I can show you the numbers if you want."

"Email it to me. What about following the jump lines?" Catherine asked thoughtfully as she considered the problem. There was always a way; you just needed to work the problem. If you were stuck, you needed to take a step back, reassess, and then look at ways to solve the problem out of the box.

"Um …," Elvira's head was lowered, and she had begun to give in to her lover's minstrations. "What?"

"A conventional jump? Going through star systems?" Catherine prompted. "Shorter hops?"

"We can maybe get this ship in and out of hyperspace once. That is where the big fuel suck is going to hit us. Two-thirds of the fuel will go for just one entrance into hyperspace. The rest of the antimatter will help sustain systems until we can get the hyperspace collectors online. If we can get them online."

"If we can't?" Catherine prompted when Elvira fell silent.

"Eh? Oh, then it is going to be a very short trip," Elvira supplied.

"Oh."

"The hyperspace collectors won't get us far, just enough of a trickle charge to keep us in hyperspace for a while. Maybe cover 50 to 60 percent of the energy budget needed to sustain us in hyperspace. That is where the rest of the fuel will go, to propel us forward and to keep us in hyper as long as possible."

"Oh."

"If we took the conventional path, wouldn't that expose us to the enemy?"

"Ah, yeah. Crap," Catherine sighed softly. She'd thought of that but then disregarded the issue.

"Yeah. We'd eventually end up dead in space. A sitting duck."

"So … all on a roll of the dice," Catherine murmured. Her hands stilled as she held her lover's shoulders gently. Once they moved, they'd be out of fuel again … if they survived the experience. She'd then have to figure out how to get more.

She doubted that the Federation would be so obliging to allow her to raid them like that again.

"Pretty much. What was that line about risk and reward?" Elvira asked as she opened her eyes and turned to her lover.

"Oh shut up," Catherine chuckled as she gently squeezed Elvira's shoulders.

Elvira sniffed.

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FOW Snippet 5

 

Chapter 5

 

Sigma Capital

 

Vice Admiral Dwight Harris was not having a good day. Hell with day, week, no year, he thought pensively as he stared bleakly at a star chart. Eight and a half months had passed since the attack on the Sigma gate complex. There had been hearing after hearing on the matter. There had been demands for him and the other officers involved to be shipped back to face such witchhunts in person. Fortunately, Admiral Irons had their back.

That was contingent on getting results, which wasn't happening. He grimaced. They'd lost the trail of the enemy. The pirates were getting good at avoiding patrols, skipping in and out the outer star systems, and even dropping out of hyperspace and into deep space to reorient. But his people were closing in. Each time they used an unfamiliar jump line the Federation learned it. Well, learned points about it.

They had yet to capture a more recent navigational database. The enemy had overhauled their security proceedures, especially in regards to their navigational data. He couldn't blame them. They were playing it smart with the location of their new jump lines and especially the location of their main base, the so called El Dorado, also known as the battle moon Atlas XIV.

"We have a new contact report coming in through the ansible, sir," his AI reported.

"Oh?" He couldn't even pretend to hope it was good news.

"Red Snapper reporting a chase of the enemy. They picked them up in the 61 star system."

"They caught them?" he asked, sitting up straight.

"Ah, correction, by pick up I mean picked up their trail," the AI corrected.

"Oh," the admiral replied in a deflated tone of voice.

"They chased them for some time before the enemy escaped for good in the SG65-8 star system. Speculation is that they were headed to 72. Shall I see if there are any ships in that vicinity?"

"When was this?"

"Approximately six weeks ago."

"Harumph," he replied thoughtfully. After a moment of thought, he nodded. "Let all ships in the vicinity know maybe one can pick up their trail. What are they looking for?"

"A light cruiser. I am sending out the bulletin now," the AI stated.

"Good. Did they at least get a piece of them?" Dwight asked.

"No, sir. The captain did question how the enemy could stay ahead of them and escape as they did."

The admiral frowned thoughtfully. "Tell her to go back through her intelligence briefings. The enemy has water dwellers—enslaved water dwellers manning their helm."

"Aye, sir. Message sent."

"Anything else?"

"There have been six pirate sightings in the past twenty-four-hour-period. None have been confirmed. There are sixty-one more requests for additional pickets," the AI responded.

The admiral scrubbed at his face in frustration. "Typical, jumping at ghosts or making the shit up out of whole cloth in order to get a bigger picket. I can't squeeze more blood out of this particular turnip. Not unless we get more ships in the pipeline."

The AI wisely said nothing.

"Which isn't going to happen unless someone redeploys Fifth Fleet. But that won't happen because it will leave the western reaches of Rho and essentially that entire sector vulnerable to penetration." He shook his head wearily.

At one point, he'd lusted after this job. Now he had more time to see it for the pitfalls and was wary of it. He snorted harshly at his train of thought.

He didn't regret Shelby and Admiral Logan recruiting him. Not even when he'd had shitty assignments or had been passed over by Renee for command of Firefly. He'd gotten his commands eventually and had worked his way up to his first star. He still regretted her death though; she'd deserved better.

He hadn't had a chance to look up the old group, but he was pretty certain there were a lot fewer of them to go around these days. Many were scattered to the winds, or, as some would say, the four corners of the Reborn Federation.

He had Commodore Firefly sitting nearby, covering his western reaches and the north to south jump line. Other than that … he shrugged such thoughts aside.

"Admiral Sergento is still undergoing testimony with the committee," the AI reported.

He scowled over that one. Isabella had made a few mistakes but she'd done everything more or less by the book. Congress was just trying to make the navy look bad.

"Anything else?"

"You have an intelligence briefing tomorrow."

"Good. Do they have anything?"

"Checking … nothing reported."

"So, another touchy feel good, we got nothing meeting?"

"I wouldn't characterize it as that."

"Check with Michael. If it's a standard report that they have nothing, tell him I'll pass, and we can do it through email. I want him to report when they actually have something, not to touch base and say nothing today."

"Aye aye, sir. Email away."

"Good."

"Admiral Briggs is currently out of Delphi station at the time being. Admiral Montgomery is in house but currently busy. He sends his thanks."

"Yeah, right." Monty was the other member of the old guard in the sector, a member of the Pyrax group that had been recruited by Admiral Irons. It was nice to occasionally shoot the breeze with him, but not at the moment. Not when they were just retreading old ground.

Other officers might want the meeting to exert their dominance or to vent their spleen over the lack of progress. He knew that screaming, albeit cathartic from time to time wasn't going to change the laws of physics and make things happen sooner than they would. Sure, it could motivate some people, but he didn't see it that way.

He saw it as a loss of control and that sort of thing rubbed him the wrong way. He'd seen and heard stories about certain people doing that sort of thing from Bek. The book said it was theater; he doubted that. Anyway, it wasn't his style.

Like a lot of graduates of Pyrax he'd tried to model his career as close to his mentor, Admiral Irons, as possible. He knew they'd never match up, there was too many differences and besides, he was tactical track not engineering. But he liked how the admiral earned respect and got things done. He could command respect because he had put in the effort and earned it.

Admiral Irons was also known for standing up for his people, another thing that a certain frustrated flag officer admired. He rarely shit on someone unless they richly deserved it.

So, if Admiral Irons could keep from bawling his ass out or throwing him to the wolves, he'd do the same to his own people for as long as he could.

"Something needs to break and damn soon," he growled.

"You do realize that wishing for something to happen is a fool’s errand? And tempting Murphy?"

"Ah, that is not what I meant. And thanks for the reminder, I now have that joyous thing to wonder about. Jinxing our janx is not how I want to finish my day, thank you."

"Yes, sir."

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FOW Snippet 4

 

Chapter 4

 

Antigua

 

"Admiral, it's time," Protector reported quietly.

"And by time you mean …?" Admiral Irons asked as he set his tablet down. He was only human so he occasionally needed a reminder, especially when juggling so many balls like he did as president.

"Mayweather Station, sir. The Taurens have found the ansible and are closing in on it."

The admiral nodded as the holographic avatar of Sprite came online on his desk. One by one other avatars appeared as well.

"A full house," Admiral Irons said as he turned to Commander Enki. "Status report?"

"They are a few minutes out from the ansible platform. Robots are inbound to the platform."

"Ah."

"Once we lose the platform, we lose the real-time intelligence gathering in the star system," Sprite stated.

"It can't be helped. We knew this day might come eventually," Admiral Irons stated. "The picket commander is aware?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, let's do this then. See what you can do to delay the inevitable," he said with a nod to Commander Enki.

The AI nodded back.

Admiral Irons sat back to watch the fireworks. That was the best he could describe it. They were losing a priceless intelligence and communication asset but they were at least going to inflict some pain and loss on the enemy during the process as well.

"Spread the love," he murmured quietly. Sprite glanced at him and then back to the feed Enki was providing to them.

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Mayweather Station

 

Admiral Brewster watched the ship in the slip. They finally had a decent slip going. The repair ships were doing a good job of making repairs. They were a bit short on supplies though. He could see the wisdom of the Federation Navy sending out industrial replicators on their ships and in their fleet train.

The replicators that had been in the base had all been deadlined. No tech had managed to figure out how to get them working again despite a one-month-liberty pass bounty on it.

He shrugged the matter aside with a flap of his ears. No matter.

If the ansible transport coming in his direction was on schedule, it should be one jump away shortly. He was waiting for the ax to fall; he knew that once the ansible got to him he'd get ass chewing and micromanaging from the administration and the Admiralty. Not to mention any sort of hearing thrown together by Congress.

In other words, his days were numbered.

Once the ansible got to him, he'd probably get reamed a bit before being relieved of command and shipped back in disgrace. He had been working with his JAG office on a defense. They had estimated the charges and built around each. Of course, he had access to all of the direct evidence; he'd avoided the desire to tamper with anything. It wasn't like it mattered in the end. If the powerful bulls in command wanted his head, he knew it was theirs for the taking.

“Herd Leader, the drone has been launched.”

He grunted, flapping his ears and tail in confusion before he turned to his chief of staff.

“The drone? To capture the enemy ansible?” his chief of staff prompted.

“Ah. Well, fine, keep me posted,” he ordered, and then went back to ruminating as he stared out the window.

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