Echo of Tomorrow: Book Two (The Drake Chronicles) (43 page)

“I’m very impressed with your new ship, Admiral. It’s quite a sight from space.”

“It’s a she, Mr. President. All ships are she … never it.”

“Oh, why is that?” Westwood asked in surprise.

“Because most of them have a bitch of a personality,” he answered with a chuckle, receiving a blank look in response.

“I never thought of machinery as having a personality, Admiral.”

“There speaks someone who never had much dealing with equipment,” Devon interjected. Scott introduced them, and for a while, they circulated around the group. It was inevitable that one of them would come to the point of the visit.

“I want to see my son, whatever-your-name-is.” It was an obvious insult, but Scott couldn’t blame them.

“It’s Admiral Drake, Minister, and if you would give your name to CPO Hardwick, we’ll get you together in a group and you can go and see your children, and have a look around the ship at the same time.”

“I have no intention, or desire to look around this abomination.”

With that, the minister turned away and pointedly started talking to the president again.

This little ploy did give his people more time to get the children in place. Under CPO Hardwick’s direction, the council broke up into groups of ten and were led away by a marine to see their respective children, deliberately being taken the long way around through multiple rings, so it would look and feel as if they’d walked a long way. The cabin slowly cleared at the last group departed, leaving President Westwood, Scott, and Devon. It was obvious the president was upset, guessing that his missing children were the cause. Having lost two of his own, Scott could sympathize.

“I’m sure you’d like to go and see your daughters, Mr. President, and I’d be happy to show you the way to where they’re training.”

“Unlike many of my counterparts, I do value the lives of my daughters. Especially after losing my sons. I’m glad they could come here under your protection, Admiral.”

“Thanks to you, Mr. President, I have a great ship here. I can now take this war to the enemy and exact retribution for all the lost children,” he murmured softly. The old man patted his arm in answer.

“I know you will, Admiral, I know you will. Even if my myopic idiot colleagues can’t or won’t see that.”

Scott wondered how much pressure the council was putting on the president while he took Westwood to see his daughters before leading him back to the bridge so he could get a better feel for the ship. He sat him beside Devon, in the extra seats behind his, before resuming the command chair. It only took a moment for him to fall into the pattern of the ongoing battle simulations and redirect the exercise. It was during a break in an attack run that his private comm channel buzzed.

“Admiral Aye!”

“Point defense CIC here, skipper.”

“What’s up, Caroline?” Since this had come over on his private comm channel, he dispensed with formalities. His repeater screen lit up, showing Caroline surrounded by a group of excited children, all chattering at once. As yet, their parents hadn’t arrived.

“Not much, skipper,” Caroline chuckled, raising her eye pleadingly to heaven. “As you know, we’re shorthanded down here, and the kids have been pestering me to let them climb into the weapon pods and try their hand.”

Scott thought about it for a moment, pondering the implication.

“I didn’t see any harm letting the little buggers fire a few simulation rounds, but I wanted to check with you first.”

“You know their parents are on the way down to see them, don’t you?”

“Yes, skipper, Chief Hardwick did inform me.”

Like wheels turning within wheels, Scott pondered the implications and possible outcome of the parents seeing their children standing around in point defense CIC, or actually sitting in the pods. Clearly, seeing them firing the weapon, even if only in simulation, would have a far greater impact than merely standing around looking bored, as children with nothing to do usually were. His instinct was to say no, but then again, if the parents thought their kids actually were in harm’s way, it might just keep them in line a bit longer. As they said, one picture is worth a thousand words. It wouldn’t even matter if the kids told them that they were actually living safe and sound in New Zealand, and not aboard his fleet. Seeing their children actually sitting in a weapons pod and firing at simulated targets would stick.

“All right, Charlotte, let them sit in. Just make sure they understand that this is a simulation, not an actual battle.” He said with a chuckle, “We don’t want them blowing a hole in one of our shiny new toys.”

That brought a grin from Charlotte. “I’ll make sure the safeties are on, skipper.” With that, she signed off.

Scott kept them at it for another two hours, before signaling an end to the exercise and headed back to moon orbit. This time there were no breakdowns, and none of the captains reported any significant problems. It also gave all the council members time to see their children, and become totally bored.

“It looks as if both our QC programs worked, Devon,” he said, turning his chair around to give Devon a wink without the president seeing him.

“Thanks, Scott, I agree,” Devon returned the wink. “I will say, we didn’t run into any major problems during the building, or any more, shall we say, errors.” He smiled.

“Yes, that little problem seems to have disappeared completely.”

“Having the yard crew do a shakedown as soon as each ship came off the ways was also helpful in bringing the ships into service quicker.”

“Whatever you did, it looks as if most of the bugs have been worked out.” He reached over and shook Devon’s hand. “Let’s go get a drink and round up our wayward council members. All this war simulation must have them foaming at the mouth by now.” He could see that the president looked a little green around the gills. Even if it was make-believe. Scott keyed point defense CIC.

“Yes, skipper?”

“You can pull the little buggers out now, Charlotte.”

“Thank the lord for small mercies.” She sighed. “Between their pestering and these council members bitching, they’re driving me to shooting a few as object lessons.”

“Start herding the council members back up here as soon as they’ve had a chance to chat with the kids, but not too long.”

“Aye-aye, skipper, will do.”

“Number One, you have the con!” he said, standing up and vacating the seat.

His steel-gray eye glinted with humor as the small figure of Akari Hirota turned towards him and bowed. He’d have to cure her of that habit, but then again he might not. It was an ingrained habit with Japanese culture that started as soon as they were old enough to walk. Her long, raven-black hair was tied up in a tight bun, and the stern face belied the normally blinding smile she’d worn throughout their time at the academy. Her last position was as XO of the heavy cruiser
Auckland
, where she’d performed brilliantly. Scott had expected nothing less; she was the leading student behind him. He doubted he would have beat her to that position if he hadn’t had the years of combat training as he stepped up the ranks in his old life. He knew that being given the XO/captain’s position on this ship must have seemed daunting to her, but he knew she’d soon work herself into the position, as many of the new captains and XO’s had to. They didn’t have time to pamper anyone. It was sink or swim. If you couldn’t do the job, everyone would know, and you’d be asked to step down and work your way back up again.

“Aye-aye, sir. I have the con,” she answered, giving him a slight smile as she bowed. Then she took over Scott’s seat and assumed command of the fleet.

The battle board still showed the number of ships destroyed on either side as his bridge staff replayed the last simulated battle, so the president’s greenish color was understandable. For a man who lived all his life with no concept of the degree of death and destruction involved in war, that might have come as a shock.

“What do you think, Mr. President?” Scott said as they prepared to leave.

“It’s all, so … so …” Westwood shook his head, unable to think of the right words. “It’s one thing to consider this at long distance, and I imagined it was clean and orderly, but this!”

“Yes, Mr. President?”

“You sat there calmly ordering ships, ships full of men and … women, to their deaths, without so much as a thought as to the consequences.” Even knowing this was a simulation didn’t help, since to his way of thinking, this was what these people would do if there were an actual battle.

“That’s what war is all about, Mr. President.”

“About?”

“The object of war is to make the enemy change his mind, and you keep pounding on him until he does, no matter what the cost.” Scott could see that was a hard concept for him to grasp, having been taught that negotiation was the answer to any problem.

“Admiral off the bridge,” the marine guard intoned.

“Why did he do that, Admiral?” Westwood asked, looking over his shoulder as they passed through the hatch.

“That’s so everyone here, and now in the rest of the fleet, knows I am not on the bridge, and that my first officer is in charge. It stops a lot of confusion as to who is in charge, should something come up.” He gave the president a smile, knowing he’d have to get into a long history lesson if he tried to explain it all.

“Oh, I see, I think.” Westwood looked over his shoulder at the young woman sitting down in the seat Scott had just vacated. “Are you going to leave the girl in charge…. I mean … who is going to supervise her?”

Scott smiled slightly. “No one. She is the captain of this ship, and the fleet for that matter, while I’m off the bridge. And, she is more than capable of doing my job. Hopefully soon, she’ll have a ship of her own to command.” As he spoke, Scott led to way to his day cabin and was about to open the door when the battle station alarm sounded.

“Action Stations! Action Station. This is not a drill. I say again. This is not a drill.”

“Shit!” was all Scott said before he ran back down the passageway with Devon and Westwood following.

“Admiral on the bridge!”

“What do we have, Number One?” Scott asked, dropping into the vacated command seat.

“An enemy fleet, closing at flank speed from solar east.”

“I’ll be damned!”

“They didn’t come through the north warp point this time, skipper.”

“Battle formation Alpha One,” he snapped. The alien battle fleet was shockingly close. Much closer than it should be, but the question of why it wasn’t detected before this would have to wait until later, if there was a later.

“Launch all fighters and interceptors,” he called, knowing his order was now transmitted instantly throughout the fleet.

The battle tank lit up with multiple contacts as the ready squadrons screamed out of their launch tubes to take up stations and release the Hawk squadron on the normal patrol. This would let them recharge their environmental packs and be ready to launch as needed. Gradually the fleet organized itself into a slowly revolving disk, with the
Australia
at its center. Around Scott the lesser ships took up positions, with the heavy cruisers and their escorts in a ring around him, then the light cruisers, destroyers, corvettes, and picket ships in concentric rings outward from that. Each had its contingent of fighters, and a new wrinkle that someone had come up with: each ship, down to the fighter, was now surrounded with a cloud of missiles, some small, some large, each cluster under the control of the ship’s captain to use as he saw fit. Some wag had named them “hound dogs,” and the name had stuck, since with their semi AI brains, the hound dogs’ lone function was to seek out and make an impact with any object they were pointed at. Like good hunting dogs, they had the brains to dodge and maneuver their way to the target, and carried a payload ranging from conventional high explosive to small nukes. They also had the ability to dock and refuel as needed. Yet even with all that, the enemy fleet outnumbered them at least ten to one. Scott wished the
New Zealand
was manned and ready, but she was already on the far side of the moon at the space dock. It would take far too long for her to get up and ready, so he discounted her as a factor in the upcoming battle.