Blockade Snippet 1

Sitrep:
   I finished Act II of We the People and I'm taking today off. I'd planned to get some projects done but Dad's still under foot. (no pun intended) And, I did something to my left ankle a few days ago and it is apparently not getting better. I don't like putting weight on it. Ugh. (I keep aggravating it when I exercise I guess)

   I sent Blockade to Rea last night. Given that today and Sunday are holidays I don't expect it back from her until near the end of the month. So, expect the book to be published in early May.

On to the Snippet!

Act I

Chapter 1

Executioner H002 star system

 

The elderly white haired human tucked his hands behind his back as he heard the latest report. He was intensely grateful for some good news. He knew he wasn't the only one.

Once they'd fallen back he'd started to loose hope that they'd outrun the enemy. After all, the enemy was much faster than his wounded ships were in hyperspace. But it was not to be. There was no sign of the Federation Navy. None.

Or, they were laying in wait in hyperspace and had somehow obscured their ion trail. He couldn't put anything past them at this point.

The escape from Garth had been brutal. The only reason he'd gotten anything out was because he'd been leery about engaging the enemy and had retreated. That they'd anticipated that retreat was a bit humiliating. Only the running engagement, the decimation of his fighters, along with constant retacking to alter their course had allowed them to escape.

Decimation of his fighters again, he reminded himself.

"No sign of the enemy. No recent ion trails in the area, no sign of the enemy. It looks like they didn't follow us," Lieutenant Myron Chekov, his staff tactical officer stated. Myron looked haggard despite being in a clean uniform and having adequate sleep since the battle.

"That's good news," Admiral Cyrano De Gaulte said quietly. "We live on to fight another day," he murmured.

His command had been hammered by the enemy. There were plenty of words to describe it, he just didn't want to use them. The only thing he could hope for at this point was to get them home so they could pass on the hard lessons they'd learned to those who would ultimately replace them.

He'd sent a ship ahead with word but it wasn't enough.

"Sir, the convoy is approaching, shall we have them heave to so they can resupply us?"

The admiral thought about it for a few seconds but then shook his head. He didn't like being vulnerable. "No, I want to put some distance between us and the jump point to Garth. Have them lay in a course to come along beside us. We'll do what we can about replenishing while underway. If there is no sign of the enemy we'll spend a day or two at the jump point making what repairs we can," the admiral ordered.

"Aye aye sir."

"Sir," he turned to Sedric. "Sir, we just got an updated shipping schedule from the convoy. They are asking about the Stennis convoy. I've got the details..." the Intelligence officer held out a tablet.

Cyrano reluctantly took it and scanned it. He didn't want to, but he forced himself to read it. So, reinforcements had been coming but they'd arrived late. No doubt he'd passed them in hyper. "Order a messanger buoy to be put out. Order all convoys to stop and turn around," he said as he scanned the document again.

On the third read he closed his eyes in pain at the news. "There is nothing we can do for them."

"Hopefully they can get out," Berney said. Commander Berney Yashanaka was the admiral's chief of staff. He looked haggard. They all did. It wasn't the first retreat they'd been on but it was most likely their last. They were being forced back to their homeworld.

Myron had half heartedly put forth the idea of setting up an ambush in the empty star system. But it was wasted breath. Their ships needed too many repairs, they needed too many supplies. The Federation would just roll right over them. Besides, there was little to nothing to use in each of the empty star systems. That was 1 reason why the empire just passed right through them.

In other words, he couldn't fight a fighting withdrawl. As much as he'd like to it would be a death sentence for the remaining ships.

"Hopefully. Hope is in scarce supply at the moment," Sedrick stated.

Myron frowned. The protracted battle had been brutal. He wasn't the only one despondent over it. The admiral had been gentle about the hot-wash they'd performed on the first day in hyper but he couldn't help but feel like he was going through the motions.

"I have that course for you sir," Jeremy stated holding out a tablet.

"Pass it on to the other ships and then get us underway. I want us clear of the jump point as soon as possible," the admiral growled.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-

Berney grimaced as the meeting broke up. Apathy and low morale were prevalent throughout the ship and most likely the fleet. Or, what was left of the tattered fleet, he reminded himself.

Myron was taking the brunt of it. He could see that the younger man was taking their repeated drubbings personally. On some level he wanted to agree, he wanted someone to blame. But it wasn't Myron's fault.

Each time things seemed to be picking up they got the rug pulled out from under them and another drubbing. It was wearing on everyone heavily. He'd heard a few of the medics muttering about battle fatigue.

He shook his head. They needed to find something to do, some way to turn it around. He was afraid though that once they returned to Horath they'd be seized as scapegoats.

Well, there was one thing going for them there though, they wouldn't have to worry about carrying the burden on their shoulders anymore, he thought.

-~~~///^\\\~~~-