Shiver Me Timbers is publishing now!

That's right, I received SMT from Goodlifeguide.com last night and here we go, book 46!

   Commodore Shelby Logan was tapped to lead an expedition into the neighboring Tau sector. Over the course of several years her convoy made their way to the heart of the sector, fighitng off pirates and plague to establish a new sector capital. But, once established they found that they were next door to the pirate capital. They had to fight off a brutal attack. Now Commodore Helen Richards leads a relief team of medics to deal with the plague so Commodore Logan can focus on other matters.

And she has 1 in her sights. The pirates are going to learn the real reason they say...

Shiver Me Timbers!

I'll post the links when they go live.

Edit:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07PPJJKQM

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1130913253?ean=2940161176306

SMT snippet 5

I think it's 5.... lol Sorry, been distracted.

Anyway sitrep:
-Dad is being sprung from the hospital as I type this. They are just waiting on paperwork. He's got 1 less toe but he's eager to get out to get a shower. lol

-I just sent Shiver Me Timbers to Goodlifeguide.com for final formatting.

-I am nearly done Act II of Blockade. 1 chapter left. I've been procrastinating a little about it.

And on to the snippet!

Chapter 4

 

Pell looked at his team. He'd managed to keep a solid core of people together, all humans of course. That sucked but it was what it was. They'd even pulled in some toughs and retirees and put them back in uniform. When things had started sliding further and further south, they'd put any volunteer they could get into uniform—even ship's police that had been trapped on the station when the base had been quarantined.

At this point any volunteer was welcome if they could keep a straight face and stand a post. But it was getting tough out there; he knew that.

Which was why he was starting to pull his best and put them in armor. He didn't have a lot of armor, but what he had he fully intended to use to crack heads and make some examples. Only when the survivors were cowed would they get order fully restored.

He grimaced at the sight of the bodies. Some were being spaced, but some were piling up. There were so many … and the pickpockets rifling the dead were terrible. He turned away, turning a blind eye on images of people rifling the dead and dying rather than trying to help—sick, just sickening.

But, oh so normal for his people he thought as sighed mentally.

<()>^<()>

Troy, Sammy, and Ned all looked on to the people around them. “I'm telling you, this shit is crazy,” Ned murmured.

“Crazy doesn't cover it,” Sammy said with a grimace. Both he and Ned worked the ports moving cargo. In their off time, they occasionally worked the back alleys of Tortuga looking for “spare change,” their euphemism for mugging drunks.

Troy Nakumora grunted. He had helped them shanghai a few people, press-ganging them into service of one ship or another. He'd done it because he'd been in too deep to refuse … and because he'd been afraid of what the two would do to him had he backed out.

He'd also had heard about what had happened to Burke and a few of the others who were in Sammy and Ned's line of work. Only the fact that the duo hadn't broken into the late Doctor Wilhelm's market just yet and that they'd led the mob to string up Burke had kept their hands clean.

And now they were doing their best to play the part of innocent people trapped in the situation. For the most part, that was true.

For someone like him, someone whose mother had been a dancer and a slave brought to Tortuga for “entertainment,” to get out of the slave pits and gladiator arena alive was a very special achievement. It had, in some part, been due to his late father's will. His late father had apparently genuinely loved his mother Natasha and had left his booty to her to take care of her and Troy when he was gone.

When his mother had died, he'd tried to gamble the dwindling savings and had lost it all. So, he'd been working odd jobs and keeping one step ahead of people like Sammy and Ned ever since.

“I think the admiral has a plan. We've got the plagues contained, right?” Ned asked as he took a sip of tepid beer. Where he'd gotten it was a mystery to Troy. Ned wasn't apparently in the mood to share his stash or secret.

“Yeah, for the moment,” Sammy said darkly. Order was breaking down in parts of Tortuga far more than usual. There were a lot less people of course. The remains of the shore patrol were not above cracking heads if someone got too uppity with them. But they were turning a blind eye to crime. “But if you think the admiral's going to save us I want some of whatever you are drinking,” he said with a shake of his head. “Keep dreaming.”

“There has to be a plan. Even if there isn't, we're all human,” Troy said looking at the others. “We're immune. We can ride it out and then clean up.”

“You really think they'll reopen the port once the only ones left are humans?” Ned asked. He looked over to Sammy. “I'm telling you, we need to find someone who can fly a shuttle and get the hell out of here.”

“And go where?”

“We're humans so we're immune, right? We let the ships out there know and someone's bound to take us in! We pack it with enough people; maybe sweeten the deal with some geegaws and booty.”

Troy shook his head and threw his hands up as he walked away. “You two do what you want.”

“You ain't in?”

“Nah. I'll come up with my own thing. I need to do some checking first,” Troy said as he walked off shaking his head.

<()>^<()>

SMT Snippet 4

Sitrep: Dad apparently glossed over his X-ray report. The infection did get to the bone. The surgeon talked him into amputating his toe which is happening Friday. :P
He's okay, they actually found a bed that fits him. (barely) but he's so bored he's starting to climb the walls.

Anyway, on to the snippet:

Chapter 3

Tortuga

 

Doctor Sho and the senior staff held a brief consultation over a meal. It was a grim meeting. They went over the symptomology of each plague and how to diagnose and treat it for each species. Many were common treatments. Most were fairly basic; bed rest was all they could do. They were reduced to what most medics were, people who could help the body heal but were at times like this, bystanders.

Helpless bystanders sometimes.

“We're so screwed,” a nurse murmured.

Doctor Sho glared at her. The woman was tired, she had circles under her eyes and her hair was a mess. So was her outfit, someone had barfed on her. She was punch drunk honest. He had to admit, they were on borrowed time. At least some were more than others.

“No, they are, the poor devils,” an orderly said. Doctor Sho's head swiveled to him. It was only then that he realized most of the people in the room were human or chimera. Had he not noticed the other medics had dropped one by one? He kicked himself for that. “What do we do? There is no way we can lick this, not all of them at once! They are dropping like flies out there! I think someone said there are a dozen or more viruses and bacteria? And quarantining the entire sector and having us on our own life support is having us stew in our own juices!”

“Did we get the entire package or just a few? Can we get a list and start treating now? Is environmental doing their part? Flushing the system? We are on our own life support right like you said George?” the head nurse asked. She was nervous; she had gotten a bad bruise from a chimp who'd grabbed her arm. The wrist might be sprained or worse. She had an ice pack on the wrist but refused to let anyone check it.

“Now you know what I meant about screwed. It's a simple matter of someone turning off the life support,” the pessimistic nurse said with a shake of her head.

“Can that,” Doctor Sho growled. Privately he had to admit they had little chance against the plagues. But that didn't stop them from being duty bound to try. Duty bound and bound by the Admiral looking over their shoulder.

“Okay, we need to work on both avenues. And we need to triage. Diagnose early and begin treatment. We have oxygen treatment for those who have gotten hit with pneumonia or such, work with that for some of the early stage. Those who are infectious we'll have to isolate further to halt the spread of contamination. Get the lab on cultures; we need a better idea of what we're dealing with.”

“Understood doctor,” another doctor said, grasping at Doctor Sho's sign of leadership desperately like it was a life line. Which it was. They all knew they couldn't panic or give in.

“Doctor! We've got ten more coming in! And we're low on dressing! And the sewer system is backed up, I think there is something wrong with environmental! A low ranking orderly pressed into a nursing position said, coming in to the office.

“Okay, we'll get on it,” Doctor Sho said with a nod. “Get someone looking into those things. Any human in quarantine with us is hereby drafted.”

“You mean press ganged?” the head nurse asked, lips quivering.

“Whatever,” the head doctor stated. “Use them. Have them change bedding, move patients, play gopher, whatever they can handle.” The nurse grimaced but nodded. “Make sure everyone eats and stay hydrated. Naps, no more than four hours in shift. I'll work on the roster once we have this under control...”

If we can ever get it under control he thought tiredly. He knew he wasn't going to be much good to anyone if he drove himself into fatigue and exhaustion.

<()>^<()>

Captain Gutt heard the chatter behind him and grimaced. He could see the fear in the eyes of his crew, smell it in the air despite everything the techs were trying to do to get it out. And he was an ape, so his sniffer wasn't as acute as one in a mutt or cat.

Sucks to be them he thought in amusement at their plight.

“Well, I can safely say for once that I'm glad we're not in the thick of things,” he growled. “Right?” he asked, pitching his voice to his bridge crew.

Heads turned and then immediately began to nod in earnest.

“Good then. Get a status report on the picket ships. Let's get that mangy lot sorted out. I want a proper picket of the jump point by the time we get there!” he growled. “Let them know we mean business! The admiral sent us to the jump point to put some spine in them. The first to flinch gets keelhauled maties!” he growled, eyes glittering as he showed off his horrible teeth in a malicious grin.

There were a series of guttural growls from the crew. He waited the Yar's out. Some were token, but he didn't care. They'd come around. Hell for anyone who came down with a sniffle in the next week or so. They'd be out the nearest lock faster than they could blink.

But he left unsaid that he was indeed glad to be far away from Tortuga. Very far away.

<()>^<()>

SMT snippet 3

First up, sitrep:
  I'm getting ready to go visit my dad in the hospital this morning. He was admitted yesterday after his foot and toe swelled up and his cut burst. I don't know how long he or I will be there. (his record is 9 days) I'm still furious over the stupidity of it all. (it's an infection in a cut on his toe) He doesn't have sepsis, it is a surface infection in the cut only, not past the epidermis but they are insisting he stay overnight and see a disease specialist and surgeon again. They keep trying to get him to slice off a chunk or amputate his entire toe and then spend 6 weeks+ recovering 'just as a precaution.'

It was a 1/4 inch long cut he made by accidentally going to deep into the cuticle while trimming his nail. The podiatrist opened it up to 1/2 inch a month ago while cleaning it. They want to slice off a large chunk and leave it raw to heal. That is just stupid.

  Dad goofed on the meds for it, he was taking them 1 a day a week 4-5 days a week with food when you are supposed to take it 2x a day on an empty stomach.  (I looked it up yesterday) Sigh. (I'm going to kick his ass for that one, and yes I can get my foot that high) He was also laid up with a cold or something and the longer he lays down the more likely his feet swell and the more likely he'll feel like crap.

  They are getting carried away. He's passed every test they've thrown at him, blood, x-ray, and ultrasound. All clean. They can't find anything wrong other than the surface damage but still insist on this course of treatment. They point to the irritation, swelling, and inflammation. I'm glad I wasn't there, (I stayed home, I wasn't feeling good and I was furious) I would have pointed out that they kept ripping the bandage off and then poking it 15+ times in a single day! Of course it's irritated and bleeding when you pull the scab off each time! DUH! He also takes forever to heal (Peripheral Neuropathy and Diabetes) and his being on blood thinners so that's not helping either!

The doctor said last week it was much better and half way healed when he checked. Now this crap. Sigh.

  Needless to say he and the rest of us are a tad stressed. (I've been getting calls and texts from upset family wanting to know what's going on. My sister has been too) I had another restless night which isn't helping my mood. My poor sister was with him until 10pm last night.

  He's also bigger than me, 6'8" and they make beds to 6 foot. That means the bed is extraordinarily uncomfortable. They can't figure that out. He's probably aching badly too. (they are also overbooked and tried to put him in the hallway overnight but found a room around 8pm) They take that as a symptom and not due to their stupidity.
  They also don't serve meals at proper times, dinner for instance isn't until 9-10pm when he's normally asleep so he's mad...and won't eat... which makes him fatigued and nauseated which they see on his vitals and justify holding him longer. GRR. If they saw my vitals they'd stick me in a rubber room!

The last time he was in the hospital he was in County. He was so miserable he just started to shut down. They put him in ICU due to his Afib. I tried to sleep in 1 of those horrible chairs for seven days. We had to fight with them to get him out. Once he was out he ate a solid meal (I'm not a great cook but he still loved it over the cold rubber crap they had) and he bounced back within hours.

So, yeah, I'm primed for a blow. Hopefully venting like this will help.... nope! GRRR. still fuming.

Anyway, on to the snippet:

Chapter 2

 

Tortuga

 

Zumika made it through the press of people to the lock and hefted his bag. There were a lot of panicked people, everyone suddenly wanted off. He'd heard rumors of the plague.

When he got to the lock he noted the shore patrol. He went to the lock and held up his bag and pointed to his face. “Bosun Cheny told me to get my gear! I'm here! Let me in!”

A face on the other side of the stained glass just shook his head.

“Why?”

“Move along. Admiral Ishmael his own self-ordered a quarantine,” the guard said gruffly. Zumika turned to him in shock.

“Are you serious?”

“Aye. Be off with ye before I use you for batting practice,” the human guard growled, fingering his neural baton.

Zumika flinched. He was well aware of what a prod could do from one of those things. “Aye, I be on my way. But I...”

He stopped at the steel eye of the other man. Obviously there was no reasoning with him. “Aye,” he said, shoulders slumping as he turned and walked back the way he came slowly.

He kicked himself for being a fool. If he'd had his bag packed he would have been gone. And if he hadn't stopped for one last drink...

Well, the good news was that if they did have the plague as a human he was immune he thought as he stomped back the way he'd come, brusquely shouldering smaller people out of his way as he did.

“Hey! I know you! You're Zumika!” A voice said. He turned in annoyance and surprise.

“Do I know you matey?”

“Aye, I thought so!” The guy pointed to Zumika, eyes hard in accusation. “That's the guy! He helped the Horathians! He met with that Captain Layafette! He helped them! He's one of them!” the voice said, practically rising in a bellow as heads turned.

Zumika saw the angry sea of faces and bolted. When the ranks closed around him he tried to swing his bag and use it as a battering ram to get through.

He didn't get far. He whimpered as the pitiless hands and boots of the mob descended on him.

<()>^<()>

Doctor White snarled tiredly when he got the report he'd been expecting. He'd been going through the notes from the Horathians over the past twenty hours. There had been no mention of a cure or vaccine. Most of what was mentioned about a cure was how to prevent one.

He closed his eyes in pain. He was tired, achy, and he felt a bit feverish. No doubt he had been infected. Medics always had the highest risk of infection; after all they had to go and diagnose someone and sometimes went in blindly to do so. He was paying for his vocation.

Paying dearly, he thought as he shook his head to the worried looking guards and lab tech on the other end of the video chat. But he needed to keep up appearances for morale's sake. He needed to lead by example even though he wanted to curl up with a bottle of hot toddy and blow his brains out. He definitely didn't want to spend the next few hours coughing his lungs out as mucus filled them.

“It's not your fault. Not any of our faults really. Well, if anyone's mine for not getting the damn cure! But that's over and done with now. We need to find out what we can. We need to know how deep this goes,” he said firmly. He felt the back of his throat tickle. He felt a cough rising and sternly suppressed it.

It wouldn't be long though, he knew. “Okay, I'm going to be sitting here working on the database to find what I can. I need you to run samples of that syringe,” he said firmly to the wide eyed lab tech. The human tech was in hazmat gear. That was something at least. “I'm going to pass over medical command to Doctor Sho,” he said as he felt a presence loom behind him. He turned to the human doctor. “It's the plague,” he said by way of confirmation. “And I've got it. No doubt many of us do,” he said.

Doctor Sho's eyes went wide briefly before his professionalism kicked in. He nodded once. “What do we do sir?”

“I'll wear a mask. I'm going to do a bit of research,” Doctor White said as he rummaged in his office for a sample kit. He coughed into his fist and then rubbed the mess onto a culture dish. He washed his hands and then leaned tiredly against the counter. “We'll need blood cultures too so we can get a timeline progression of the spread of the plagues.”

“Understood.”

“Get us a list of what's in that cocktail Rob,” the Neogorilla doctor snarled, turning back to the video feed.

“I'll try sir but I'm just a basic lab tech. I don't know how to recognize what I'm looking at,” the human said worriedly.

“Just do your best. Keep the computer open and run an image comparison if you have to. Call Doctor Sho too.”

“Yes sir.”

“Keep us posted. Now get to work. Use the lab there. The guards need to set up a perimeter and a decontamination system. I think there is one there.”

“Yes sir. It was broken though.”

“Have someone fix it. And have that same someone figure out how it works so we can replicate it. Something tells me we're going to need to do so real soon.”

“Yes sir.” the image in the lab winked out.

The gorilla turned tiredly and looked at the human doctor. “I'll stay on my feet and do what I can with the most infected. Find a damn cure.” His voice was leached of emotion. They both knew the chances of that. And they both knew the chances of a cure coming in time to help those who had been initially infected.

Especially in a cocktail of biological weapons designed to be hard or impossible to stop.

Doctor Sho nodded anyway. He knew he was in over his head but he knew the proper response and so went with it anyway. “Yes sir. I'll do my best.”

“Hell with that, I've seen your best. Do better. We need a real miracle here.”

<()>^<()>

SMT snippet 2

Sitrep: Working on Blockade has slowed due to illness in the family. Dad was finally getting back on his feet but his toe exploded this morning. :P (I had fun scrubbing blood out of the carpet at 3:30am) He's going in to the doctor's this morning.

Anyway, here is the snippet, still in Chapter 1:

<()>^<()>

The wolf shivered once the connection was cut. Damn the cat! And damn him for forcing him into that wretched marriage with Dab! The spotted hyena bitch was rough! She was also not his type, not at all! He'd barely survived getting out of her clutches before they'd shipped out. It had taken him and some cream the doc had given him weeks to heal so he could at least sit without whimpering.

He forced his ears upright. It was hard, so hard but he had to do it. He had to project an aura of confidence. Even if he lacked it.

His hope of remaining out of her clutches were dashed when they'd returned. And she'd sent a reminder in the form of Commander Ayud Bundi, a member of her clan and one of their best shipwrights to inspect Black Death. His reminder that the XO's bride was eagerly waiting for a repeat of their nuptial visit had sent the XO into a panting fearful fit.

At this rate he was going to lose status on the ship. And once he went down the ladder he'd be at death's door in next to no time.

Well, if he kept things going and then hid on the ship he might survive Black Death's time in her clutches. Hell if he'd use his status with her to get more though. As much as he wanted to get out of her clutches as quickly as possible, he wasn't going to court getting torn up by her for anyone. The Admiral could piss up a rope if he expected him to sacrifice himself for her amusement.

<()>^<()>

Tortuga

 

Zumika grinned as he signed on to a ship. He finally had a posting. “Just let me get my spacebag and I'll be at the lock,” he said with a tip of his finger to his hat.

“See that you do,” the bosun said gruffly. “Step out of line and you'll walk the plank.”

“Ar, I'm no fool. I'll do my best.”

“Yeah, well, we'll see,” the bosun said with a shake of his head. The skipper had wanted people with experience. They were dredging the bottom of the barrel. Zumika at least had some experience. He also had helped him find 2 other ratings to fill their ranks.

It seemed every ship in the ring around the asteroid was trying to man up and get underway. The press gangs were out in force, not that they needed to be. Everyone wanted off the rock just in case the Feds showed up.

<()>^<()>

Jericho continued to cough, and then snuffle. His mate had ordered him to the sickbay to find out what was wrong with him. She was right; he didn't want to pass it on to the rest of the pack or to the cubs.

Whatever bug he'd gotten he hoped he got over it soon. It well and truly sucked. His chest muscles ached from the pain of coughing.

He'd resisted going to the doc's though. A good dose of liquid meds, some cough syrup and a bottle of rotgut would knock his ass out and let him sleep. Normally his body fought off an infection while he slept it off. But he had barely gotten to 'The Dives' open door when he'd felt the passageway swim a bit alarmingly.

“I don't feel so good,” he said, reaching out to clutch at Ichy's arm.

“You don't look so good either. But that's normal for you,” Ichy replied, shaking the arm off.

“Shut up!”  Jericho laughed but that triggered another coughing fit. Dizzy and light headed he fell over retching.

“Ah shit. What crud did you get into? Did you drink something?” Itchy demanded, looking around them. “I warned you not to drink that rotgut Paco makes no matter how cheap it is! Most likely he did it with battery acid again!”

“Shut up...” Jericho coughed and then clutched at the pain in his chest that the coughs had caused. Green snot dripped out of nose and onto the deck. Saliva did from his open mouth as he panted. “I don't feel so good.”

Itchy sighed and tried to help him up. When he got a hand under the other wolf's armpit he felt how hot the other wolf was. Instinctively his free hand went to the other's forehead. “Arrr, you're burning up matie. Tis not good. An ill wind we nigh not need now.”

“Yeah. Got a co'd or sumin,” Jericho got out before he spat mucus. Val had been pissed when he'd come home sick. It had hit him hard and fast. It was something they were both aware of, working security put them on the front line of a lot of crud. But this was a bit different.

Itchy swore as he helped his pack mate to a bench. “Shit, you really are sick. Whatever you've got I don't want it.” He waited; fear finally giving way to concern over his own fate if the alphas realized he'd abandoned a mate. He forced himself to help Jericho to the medical clinic. He left him in the waiting room and fled.

He didn't realize that he was inadvertently spreading the contamination further.

<()>^<()>

Doctor White, the Neogorilla senior medic on Tortuga was called in when the on duty doctor in the medical clinic became alarmed by the outbreak. He walked in just as a Neowolf started a coughing fit. Mucus sprayed him. He flinched away but instantly realized he had most likely just been infected. “Frack! Well, so much for keeping a clean area,” he growled, brown eyes flashing.

“Sorry doctor.”

“Well, no helping it. What is it anyway?”

“Symptoms are flu like. But we've got some inconsistencies. Whatever it is, it's spreading. Spreading fast,” the junior doctor said worriedly.

“Frack.”

“I hate to say it...”

Brown eyes locked onto blue eyes. “Then don't,” the gorilla growled.

“But we've got to face it. It could be the plague,” the human medic whispered.

“Frack. Find out. I've got to make a call.” Doctor White thought about it and then shook his head. “Actually, a lot of calls,” he said, putting his first call in to the port to order a lock down. When he got stuck on hold he went to his office and called in every medic and then switched to internal life support. After that he snarled at the wait as he pulled out a battered manual on what to do.

Not that he expected it to do him or anyone else trapped in hell with him to do much good.

<()>^<()>

SMT Snippet 1

Sitrep:
  As usual I've been remiss about posting snippets once I send a manuscript to Rea. I have an excuse, I didn't take much time off and instead dived right into The New Federation Book 7, Blockade.
   I 'officially' started it on the 22nd. Anyway, I finished act I last Friday and sent it off to the first Beta. I'm 200+ pages into it and already at the half way point but facing a brown out.

Anyway, here is the first snippet:

Chapter 1

 

Tortuga

 

Jericho grinned as he finished his report. He looked over to security. The chief had ordered the lab to be secured; there would be no looting or pillaging. That was a pity but it was smart, there was no telling what was dangerous in the lab. They'd gotten off lucky without hitting something bad. He didn't want for them to press their luck with the lady.

Besides, he'd gotten enough pleasure out of being in on personally killing the bitch. Ripping her apart had been quite a pleasure though he had been reprimanded for not bringing her to the lords. Too bad. Even rank and file betas and gammas like his kind deserved some payback from time to time.

He licked some of the blood off of his muzzle. Her blood of course, sticky from its time on his fur. He'd need to get a thorough cleaning before he visited Val and the cubs when he was off duty.

He snuffled and then sneezed. He felt his chest tickle with the desire to cough but he repressed it.

He must have gotten some of her blood up his nose or something. He shook his head. Whatever the reason, best to get cleaned up before his shift ended.

<()>^<()>

Black Death 

Admiral Leonidas Ishmael rubbed his brow tiredly as he considered the future. He'd survived the pirate lords meeting. He was honestly surprised by that. Only the betrayal of Horath and throwing Doctor Wilhelm and the others to the lords had allowed him to keep his position.

At least, for the time being, he thought.

May they ever find another target for their ire, he thought. He knew he couldn't be too old, couldn't be too tired and ready to be pulled down from his lofty position. He'd survived this far right? And he had managed to extract two of his twenty ships from the trap he'd found himself in the Tau-1252 star system.

Two, just two. His force had out massed the enemy but he'd been a fool. He hadn't accounted for gathering intelligence ahead of time. He'd relied on his outdated knowledge of the star system. He hadn't expected the defenses there. Nor had he expected the enemy to be that formidable.

He shivered as he adjusted the patch covering his missing eye. His tail flicked in annoyance, the tuff at the end hitting his thigh. Maybe he was getting old. But damned if he'd turn over command to anyone else. No one had his training. Kix came close but he'd spent so long in the number 2 slot most of the other lords would reject him for the leadership role.

The African Neolion roared a yawn and then licked his scarred lips. His people had been amiable to him once they'd had their taste of human blood. He'd detailed a group of ships to cover the Tau-1252 jump point. They'd headed out in a motley lot. He reminded himself to have Kix assign someone more reliable to ride herd on them. With any luck they could ambush a force as it came in, though he couldn't count on luck. At least, not anymore. Lady Luck's blessings were favoring another person now.

His battle cruiser flagship Black Death had been brutalized in the battle. She had just about shot herself dry of all forms of missiles. The Tauren battle cruiser had been hardy though, she'd survived against all odds. She'd lost most of her weapons in the process, but she'd survived.

He needed her back into fighting trim as quickly as possible if he was going to maintain control of the other pirates as well as have a chance at beating off any Federation offenses that came his way. That was why he had Captain Dab and Captain Black working with Kix to get the job done.

He had decided to remain on the ship despite the battle cruiser being laid up in the yard for hasty repairs and resupply. He'd even gone so far as to keeping his harem/pride on board, the stated reason was for his comfort but it was also in case he needed to leave the system in a hurry.

To say that his position had been undermined by the retreat was putting it mildly. His unceremonious return with his tail figuratively tucked between his legs in a broken and nearly toothless ship hadn't sat well with him or anyone. Black Corsage, Captain Gutt's heavy cruiser was barely better off than his own.

And the stated reason he was remaining on his ship, to make sure he could command from her in a hurry should the Feds arrived kept that undercurrent and scuttlebutt that he wanted a fast getaway alive.

It also pointed to his avoidance of wanting to face the pirate lords or the public on Tortuga.

Fortunately, Captain Gutt and a few of the other older pirate lords had remained loyal to him. He wasn't certain if it was due to his rank and long standing with them or because they knew that if he was pulled down the others would resort to infighting and then break up as they fled, doing most of the work of the Feds for them. It could have also been due to the shock of the betrayal of the homeworld.

He had shut down any ship that had attempted to leave. He would need to work on the lords and public. Decisive action and a healthy reminder of who they didn't want to cross should put an end to the muttering.

He checked on the lords. Just as he'd thought, most had returned to their ships after the report of the lab's breech and deaths. They'd even sounded recall, no doubt just in case the enemy showed up. It was a pity that the wolves hadn't made the bitch's death last longer.

The same for Wilhelm. That one had deserved to spend days in pain before he'd expired. He'd gotten off lightly.

A mob was at play in the base, hunting down supporters of the Horathians. He'd heard a few had been strung up. Shore patrol was concerned about the rapes, but he shrugged such things off. The women should know better by now, and the men who'd suffered too.

He turned to working on a tentative plan to mount a counter offense. But he needed a better way to handle it. If he could just get the Commodore to turtle he might have a chance to evacuate the cream of Tortuga to one of the other bases.

But she could have their locations too, he reminded himself.

He had a dozen ships already in space. None were larger than a light cruiser. He'd taken the cream with him to Virgin Holes and on that last death ride. He needed them on the picket. He wrote out orders for six of the best to get to the Tau-1252 jump point and to picket it.

That left the others, plus the 27 warships still in dock. There were ten additional warships clearing for action. Another 12 were trying to get underway but were reporting various levels of readiness. Two had malfunctioning hyperdrives. They were doomed to remain if they couldn't get them repaired. Five more were dark. They had been cannibalized for parts. He had no idea if they could be repaired or not.

Seventy ships were prize ships within the interior of the rock and docked to the ring around the exterior. Six of those had been turned into habitats. They were trying to get underway but there was no way they'd do it. Not with so many changes to their hulls and spaces. He shook his head and mentally wrote them and their crews off.

Nineteen ships were privateers, former prize ships turned into armed ships. They were old though, most of the privateers were either out and about collecting booty or in other ports. Those that remained were trying to get crews. Only 3 were out of the dock and were reporting that they were functional.

No doubt the gnolls and other engineers had their work cut out for them. Well, tough for the other ships, his came first.

The light blinked indicating an incoming call. He checked the status; it was internal on the ship. The caller ID said it with the ship's XO. He snorted and hit the accept key with his right index claw.

“Sir, we've got that latest report on the damage and an initial schedule on repairs,” Commander Dolon Lycaon reported. The Commander was the XO of the ship. Captain Black was in command but the Commander's ...unique status with Captain Wilda Dab helped in some ways.

“Good, good.”

He personally doubted they'd be able to do much soon. The yard was a truss slip with the core made out of an old factory ship. Habitat modules had been tacked on as she'd grown, like cancerous growths. Most of those modules held basic equipment or stores at best. Trying to rebuild a ship like Black Death let alone Black Corsage was pushing it he knew.

Not that he wasn't going to do so anyway. He'd already promised the Neoorangutan that his precious Black Corsage would be next in line.

“Are we still going to try to mount an offense sir?”

The admiral studied the Neowolf thoughtfully and then shrugged. “We've got the yard, we've got the warehouses, let's use them.” He left unsaid that it would at least keep his people busy and doing something. Who knows, it might work. At the least it would give them more material or even ships to use to defend the base or run with should it come to either scenario.

“You think we can win sir?”

“I think we if we run we'll keep running. I'm an admiral damn it, a lion not a mouse!” the admiral roared, finally losing patience. It had been a long stressful day.

The Neowolf's eyes widened on the screen. “Aye aye sir. Sorry sir. No disrespect sir,” he said, raising his muzzle in token of submission.

The admiral saw that and then grunted. He heard a chur behind him and turned to see the ladies coming out of their quarters to see what the fuss was about. “Handle it. Unless there is an emergency don't disturb me. I expect some major progress on all fronts when I return to duty tomorrow.”

“Ah... aye aye sir. I'll pass that along,” the wolf said nervously.

“See that you do. And maybe we can arrange a conjugal visit with your mate in the near future,” the admiral teased wickedly. He saw the naked fear in the wolf's expression and chuffed in amusement as he shut the channel down.

<()>^<()>