Jethro 3: No Place Like Home (19 page)

Horatio rubbed his jaw. “You know, we haven't had any shipping from 101a1 in nearly a year. Not since that one ship came in with those weird refugees,” he mused, now considering the problem.

“None at all? And you don't find it highly suspicious?” Renee asked cautiously.

Logan shrugged. “In this day and age? It could be that pirates picked off all the shipping, but it could also be that the ships are avoiding that area because of Horath. We've been spreading the word that they are behind the pirates. People could be avoiding the area.”

“Then they'd head this way instead right?”

“Yes. Which doesn't necessarily mean that they aren't. Or that they haven't tried. I take your meaning,” Horatio said. He rubbed his jaw.

“Any shipping going from here to there?”

Logan shook his head. “No. And I've put a stop to anyone going through the jump point from our end.”

“I guess that's a good thing. They haven't picked up on anything.”

“At least not recently. There was one ship that went through there two years ago.”

“Which could have gone on before the Horathian's showed up. We don't know.”

“True.”

“Sir, the forts...”

“What about them?”

“Well, as you realize, a jump point is a sphere in space mapped out. But a ship can jump in anywhere really. We've seen a few ships come in outside a jump point. They wander off course enough...” Shelby shrugged.

“And a fort only has a two hundred thousand kilometer energy weapons range. A missile range of a million kilometers, but the longer the range the longer the lead time on the missiles. Which means the more time an alert enemy has time to react and put out counter measures.”

“Yes I know. I taught that to you remember?” Horatio said mildly.

Shelby nodded. “That you did, sir. So you know the limits of the forts.”

“Yes I do. But right now it's the best we've got. They are a target. A rallying point for us.”

“Yes, sir.”

“You're hoping they'll buy time. That an enemy will pause to engage them and not leave them in their rear,” Captain Mayweather murmured thoughtfully.

Horatio grunted and gave a curt nod.

“Boy, I'd hate to be on one of those things,” Renee murmured.

“We cycle crews through them like shit through a goose.”

Shelby smiled slightly at her dad's manner.

“Getting back on topic, you want to what? Poke your head into the lion's den?” Horatio asked. “You do realize your luck is bound to run out sometime or other,” he said, looking from the two women to the AI and then back again. “Bold and stupid isn't exactly a winning combination in any book,” he said witheringly.

“You can't rely on luck,” Captain Mayweather replied nodding. “We know that, sir. If you've gone over my after-action report, you know it wasn't pure luck.”

Horatio's eyes flashed. “It was blind luck a destroyer didn't get a big enough piece of you. If you'd been holed...” He shook his head. “If it had hit one of your nacelles?” Again the shake of his head. “You had no Go to Hell Plan. No slack. In it to win it. As I said, stupid.”

“We would have repaired the damage, sir. We knew what we were doing. The odds were long...”

“But in the end we won,” Shelby said, looking stubbornly at her father and Commander.

“And success says a lot about it. Yes I know. If it's stupid and it works,” he sighed sitting back. He took a deep breath and then let it out slowly. “I'm just not thrilled about you harrying off and doing a repeat performance.”

“Sir, what we're proposing is a spoiler raid. Get in, see what we can see, hit what is in range, then come about and run like hell. A quick reciprocal course.”

“You can't flip like that. Not and bleed off your inertia that well. Ships can't turn on a dime. If they are prepared sure you'll blow past them, catching them off guard,” he said holding a finger up. “If they aren't prepared to pounce on any ship coming through the jump point.”

“Then we don't come through at the center of the point. We come through outside it. It's a guide not a rule, sir,” Firefly said.

“True,” Shelby nodded. “And we can jump out if we don't go too far into the system. If we do, we can hit and run, hit them and then we would loop around something. A planet or moon.”

“Do your geography. B101a1 has no habitable planets. There are a few, all Mercury class, one in range of the jump point,” Horatio said, pulling up a star chart. The lights dimmed. Firefly stepped to one side to let the chart hold center stage in the holo emitter.

A gold ring flashed around their entry point. Horatio tapped at his controls, highlighting the nearest planet. “There are no moons. She's a dead crossroads. Nothing but a star and rocks no bigger than my pinky. Lots of them. No water.”

“We won't be far away.”

“Spoiler raid,” Horatio murmured thoughtfully.

“Great minds think alike sir. We can go in...”

“Hit and hype. Yes, I know.”

“As I said, great minds think alike. We can hit them and draw them into a chase back here. Pick when and where we want them to emerge. Play lame duck if it will draw them in.”

“Wounded prey? That's possible,” Shelby said, nodding.

“You three are serious about this.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Let me think about it some more. I'll go over the idea with the staff. In the meantime, work on your proposal. Coming at me half assed wasn't what I was expecting. Not at all.”

“We have a plan, sir,” Firefly said stiffly. “We did work on it.”

“But you never gave us a chance to present it,” the Captain said, giving her XO a look.

Horatio waved a hand. “Fine. Just...just let me think about it some.”

“Aye aye, Sir.”

He stared into the display. After a long moment Firefly shifted, catching his attention. “Still here? Dismissed,” Horatio said, looking over his shoulder.

“Aye, sir,” Shelby said, coming to attention with her Captain and then leaving. Firefly did as well and then stepped off the holotable.

---( | ) --- ( | )---

Outside the compartment Shelby looked at the Captain as they dogged the hatch behind them. “Think he'll go for it?” she asked softly.

Captain Mayweather looked at her and pursed her lips. “Not here,” she said slowly, eyes cutting around. Shelby looked and then gave a choppy nod. “I hope so though.”

“I think we need to rehearse. And maybe come up with more questions and responses.”

“Good idea. Get with the tactical department and do that. I'm going to go check on things,” Renee said, nodding.

“Aye aye, ma'am,” Shelby said, nodding. Her Captain smiled and left her.

Shelby waited a bit and then knocked on the hatch combing. When there wasn't a response she opened the hatch anyway.

“Yes?”

“Um...”

Horatio looked over his shoulder. “I said dismissed, Commander. Was there something else?”

“Not here as an officer,” Shelby replied, miming taking off her insignia again. Her father stood straighter, cocking his head. She came over to him and then looked down.

“Come here you,” he said gruffly, reaching for her. She smiled and wrapped her arms around her dad in a hug.

“Life in the military is complicated, Dad,” she murmured, squeezing him. She gasped as he squeezed her tight.

“Yeah,” he chuckled softly, stroking her hair. “You can say that again.”

“I'm fine, Dad, honest. Not a scratch.”

“Yes, I see that,” he said, holding her at arm's length. He looked her over once more and then nodded. “You look good.”

“Thanks.”

“I got your letters. All of them,” he said finally, looking down at her.

“And I've gotten yours. Been dating, Dad?”

He snorted and shook his head. “Cute, missy,” he said, smiling a crocked smile.

“Honestly, Dad, all work and no play...”

He chuckled, fending her off. He waved to a seat. She turned and went to the bar instead. He tapped the controls to shut the hologram off and then went to the bar with her. She pulled out a bottle and looked at it.

“My, we are getting fancy,” she murmured in appreciation. It was a nice bottle, nice label too. Something that looked like it came out of a distillery, not moonshine. “Is this any good?”

“Whiskey? Yes. Don't go overboard, I've got a lot still to do.”

“I wouldn't dream of it,” she said, pouring two cups and then putting the bottle away. “To life, liberty, and mom.”

“To the Admiral and the Federation,” Horatio said, picking his cup up. “Salude,” he said, knocking the drink back.

Shelby snorted and did so as well. She felt the burn run down her throat. She coughed, wiping at her mouth with her sleeve. “Damn. Smoother than your usual rotgut, Dad.”

“I'm getting spoiled in my old age. Can't handle the old still; it's used as paint remover now.”

“I bet,” Shelby said, grinning. She remembered helping her dad with the still when she had been a kid. His was the best rotgut on the station, much prized. Some of the spoiled rich brats on the station tended to buy it through cut outs and then rebrand it as their own. Or did. Since he'd retired her father hadn't made his own rotgut. Not in years it seemed. “They still after you for the recipe?” she asked, grinning knowingly.

“Yes and I'll keep it thank you,” he said gruffly. She chuckled. He relented a little with a half smile. “And no, don't expect it in my will or something.”

She eyed him. “Why you planning on shuffling off sometime soon?”

“Perish the thought,” he said shaking his head. He studied the empty glass and then set it down. “Thornby's been after me to sell it. She said I could make a mint off it, or just rent the rights and make credits from every batch.”

“Thornby
?” Shelby asked in disbelief. “Old doc said that?”

Her father shrugged. She shook her head. “I used to ply her with the stuff when we needed it. She would complain and say it was only good to sterilize her instruments, but we both knew better,” Horatio said.

“I see,” Shelby replied with a chuckle. She didn't bring up the attack, she knew better.

“So...what's on your mind? I was serious about...”

She held up a hand. “Dad, this is purely a social visit. I wanted a hug and to catch up.”

“Ah,” he replied with a nod. “Good.”

She smiled. “Even I have trouble untangling social, family and military sometimes. You must...” she shook her head in wonder.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “Life can be...complicated. Throw in politics,” he grunted in irritation.

“I'm surprised you haven't had a stroke with Walker's antics Dad,” she said.

“He's more trouble than he's worth. A hell of a lot of trouble. Fortunately, the election is coming up. Hopefully he'll end up on his ass or out the nearest lock.”

“One can hope Dad. But well, as you said, luck...”

He shook his head. “Don't remind me. You and John have used up a boatload. Probably more than the entire sector has.”

“Maybe,” she said smiling. “Then again, maybe not.” She smiled at him. “Now, you haven't been dating, but you can fill me in with all the gossip. How is engineering doing? Is Liam still in charge? Has all his hair been pulled or fallen out?” she asked conspiratorially.

He chuckled at her antics and shook his head.

“Well? You just going to sit there or are you going to tell me?” she demanded.

He sat back and relaxed, schedule momentarily forgotten. “Well, if you
must
know...”

---( | ) --- ( | )---

At 1600 hours on the tick, Shelby knocked on the compartment hatch leading to the command staff wardroom.

She looked over to the Captain who was busy checking herself for lint and last minute uniform issues. “You're fine, ma'am,” she said. “Wait, turn,” she circled her finger. Mayweather frowned but did as she was bid. Her XO picked off an errant hair and then flicked it away. She looked at the Marine guards but neither said anything. She snorted softly in approval. Marines were best when seen but not heard. They tended to stick their feet firmly in their mouth when they forgot that. Well, some did. She hoped that she wouldn't have the same issue.

“Enter,” a voice said. She opened the hatch and stepped aside as the Captain passed her. Mayweather winked in passing but kept going. Shelby followed her into the darkened room to center stage.

Firefly was there already, waiting in a holo of blue light by the podium.

“Captain Mayweather, Commander Logan, it's good to see you are well,” the Centilian Decius said.

“You too, Commander,” Renee murmured, bobbing a nod in his direction.

“No worse for wear. Though you did send me a bit more work than anticipated,” Doctor Thornby said.

“Couldn't be helped ma'am,” Renee replied. “Battles tend to have casualties. On both sides unfortunately.”

“Yes I know.”