StarFight 1: Battlestar (6 page)

The man raised black eyebrows. “As you wish. The
Salamis
now departs for the edge of this system’s magnetosphere. I will set vector for Kepler 10. Good day.”

♦   ♦   ♦

Daisy felt shock at the Hindu man’s rejection of Jacob. She thought he looked frightened under the shell of defiance. She felt for the Asian woman who was acting as his XO. Breaking the chain of command and the cohesion of the battle group was clearly upsetting her. She looked back and up at Jacob.

Her friend blinked, then his clean-shaven face became tight-muscled. His gray eyes became more intense than when she’d first seen as he sat in the admiral’s seat, thereby signaling to everyone on the Bridge that he was not only claiming acting captain status, but was also claiming the right to command of the battle group. Her shock at his daring had eased as he fell into a calm, orderly and professional manner with the Bridge crew and with the other ship leaders. What would he do now?

“Melody, display the next in line signal,” Jacob said, his tone calm, almost at ease.

“Displaying next signal,” the AI said in a swift response.

A blond-haired young woman who wore woodland camos, sat in a central Bridge seat and looked as calm as Jacob’s voice, now joined the vid images of Swanson, Wilcox and Zhang.

“Acting Captain Renselaer, I am Lieutenant Joy Jefferson, formerly chief of our Weapons Deck on the destroyer
Philippines Sea
,” she said succinctly. “Mehta is an asshole. He retreats in the face of enemy action. A fact which I will report to Earth Command. My ship and crew are at Alert Combat Ready. How may I assist you and the rest of the battle group?”

She smiled at the woman’s blunt statement. Jefferson looked barely 30 years old, but must be years beyond that in order to have reached the rank of Lieutenant. And her former work as chief of her ship’s Weapons Deck said she must also be a deadly opponent. Daisy looked away from the wallscreen image and up to Jacob.

“Your support and allegiance to our battle group is very welcome,” Jacob said, his tone and manner nonchalant, as if Mehta’s defiance had never happened. “Keep watch on the enemy ships by way of your spysats. Report any behavior change to me. And move to the left flank of the
Lepanto
to cover the spot left open by the departure of
Salamis
. Monitor the remainder of my discussions with the other ships.”

The woman spoke a few words to her XO, then nodded, her blue eyes bright. “The
Philippines Sea
is moving to your left flank. We stand ready to launch missiles and fire gas and proton lasers upon your orders.” Jefferson sat back, crossed gloved hands over her vacsuit and changed her mood. “Frankly, I don’t give a damn what your old rank was! You found the status code, changed the
Lepanto’s
status to Alert Hostile Enemy and actually
did
something when we lost all contact with our senior officers. Your launch of the Cloud Skimmer told us facts, versus useless speculation. I will always follow and support any officer who dares to act!”

Jacob smiled briefly. Then his expression became sober serious. “Thank you, Acting Captain Jefferson. I rely upon the assistance of the
Philippines Sea
and her 113 personnel of all ranks. Working together, this battle group can present a deadly response to any enemy attack. Stand by and monitor.”

“Monitoring.”

Daisy sat back, feeling amazement at Jacob’s calmness in the face of defiance from one ship’s new captain. Was this an ability he had learned from his five star admiral father? She knew of his famous family heritage, even though he had never mentioned it. It was clear early on that Jacob was doing his best to earn respect by doing his ensign job to the best of his ability. The man had never asked Admiral Johanson for any special favors, nor sought to use his father’s name to influence others on board the
Lepanto
. That manner, joined with his welcoming of two enlisteds to the ensigns ward room, now made her even more determined to remain as his friend, his ally and, perhaps in the future, something more.

In minutes the acting captains of the group’s four frigates had called in, had pledged their allegiance to Jacob’s leadership and had joined the images of the captains of the group’s two cruisers and two remaining destroyers. Counting the
Lepanto
, that gave them a battle group of nine ships versus the 12 enemy ships. Would they win a battle with the wasps? What secret weapons did the wasps possess that were unknown to the battle group?

“O’Hara,” Jacob called firmly. “We have six spysats over there keeping an eye on the meeting site and the aliens at geosync. Move one of our spysats up orbit to a close pass-by of the largest alien ship. Let’s see what that ship looks like, close up.”

“Changing vector of spysat A4,” O’Hara said quickly.

Daisy fixed back on her holo of the enemy ships. But her armrest screen image of Jacob showed him leaning forward.

“Power, Engines, Gravity, Life Support and Science, feed me your current status reports,” he called to the Bridge crew who had not been involved in any of the events of the last hour or so.

“Science transmits status data,” called a man she recognized from her study of Command Deck staff. It was Willard Steinmetz. His deep booming voice echoed off the Bridge walls.

“All fusion reactors are at full power output,” called Maggie Lowenstein from Power.

“Fusion pulse engines are hot,” responded Akira M’Bala at Engines.

Daisy listened as the other posts sent Jacob their status reports. It was, in a way, a means of distracting everyone from the uncertainty of the next few moments when the spysat would approach the enemy’s flagship. What would happen? Would a weapon fire on it? How would the wasps react to the departure of the
Salamis
? And how would the officers in charge of other decks on the
Lepanto
react to the sight of the destroyed meeting location, Jacob’s orders to the battle group and the defiance of one ship captain? She hoped the
Lepanto’s
officers would follow the manner of the cruiser captains. Now was not a time for disunity.

♦   ♦   ♦

“Alarm!” came the pheromone signal from a Servant at the control panel that monitored external space. “Soft Skin flying nest is changing position. It is leaving its perch above Warmth.”

Many pheromones now filled the Flight Chamber. Hunter drew in the varied scents through his spiracles, focused his two major eyes on the perception imager that depicted the Soft Skin flying nest, and saw with his three minor eyes the spreading of wings among his Servants. The time for waiting had drawn to a close.

“Prepare for attack flight against the Soft Skin flying nests,” he sent by way of a releaser pheromone mixed with a territorial pheromone to remind his fellow Swarmers of the need to defend their new home territory.

“Propulsive devices are reaching peak heat,” said an older Servant with long experience in handling the devices that moved their nest by use of particle fusion events. The Servant’s compliance pheromone carried an overlay of aggregating pheromone.

Hunter liked the creature’s emission of loyalty. The scent now spread among all Servants who worked in the Flight Chamber. “Speaker To All,” he scent cast to the young male Servant who managed the device that sent pheromone-laden words to the other flying nests in his two six-groups of mobile nests. “Advise the other Support Hunters to do as we do. Prepare to leave our high flight for an englobing attack on the Soft Skins.”

“Scent transmitted by low sound signaler,” the Servant replied by way of a primer pheromone that signaled a change in behavior was now ordered for all Swarm members and cohorts.

“Hunter!” called the first Servant. “A Soft Skin monitor globe moves up toward us. It is unknown if it carries a stinger.”

“Allow the globe to approach us,” Hunter said by way of a sharp releaser pheromone. “Advise the Fighter Leader in charge of our sky bolt weapons to prepare his Fighters.”

“Signal sent,” rasped the Servant in charge of between chambers communication. “What of our fellow flying nests?” she said by way of an aggregator pheromone mixed with a trail pheromone.

Loyalty shown deserved confidence given by him. “Our fellow flying nests aggregate with us,” he scent cast. “Be not alarmed. Attend to scents on our nest levels and advise me of any alarm among our Workers.”

The within nest communicator Servant flared her elderly wings. “Attending to the scents of other chambers!”

Hunter watched the approach of the monitor globe. Let it come. They would meet it with a sky bolt. That would bring fear and chaos to the invaders. Already one Soft Skin nest had flown away in fright. More might do the same. While his two six-groups of ships could fatally sting all the Soft Skin nests, he welcomed the arrival of disunity among the Soft Skins. Their chaos gave him time and opportunity for imposing his command over the world of Warmth. Which reminded him of a last duty before they winged to the attack.

“Matron,” he scent cast to the large female who occupied a bowl at the rear of his Flight Chamber. “Signal to your fellow Matrons on our other nests it is time to release the Pods! Send down our eggs with the Servants and Workers needed to raise them to adulthood. We must finish colonizing this new home nest before we fight the Soft Skins!”

Rasping came from behind him, followed by a strong scent of primer pheromones.

“Pods release is being sent to my fellow Matrons,” called the Swarmer who occupied the second most important post on any Swarm flying nest. His acoustic membranes heard her tapping on a pheromone signal device that allowed her independent communication with the other flying nests. “Scent has been sent to my Servants and Workers on this nest who will ride the Pods down to the new nest of Warmth!”

Hunter’s four foot pads felt the floor of the chamber vibrate as twelve six-groups of Pods flew out of his flying nest the way some plants on Nest shot forth their own seeds. Similar vibrations would be felt by the Support Hunters on the other flying nests of the Swarm. One more new nest was now being colonized. The Soft Skin and Hard Shell life below them would be rich food sources for the newborn larvae of the many Pods now raining down on Warmth. The Servants and Workers would sting any large creature, paralyze it and bring it back to a Pod to serve as food for the new lives. Such was the way it had been on Nest for long generations. Such was the way it would be on Warmth, the ninth world colonized by the Swarm. Briefly, he wondered if the two-legged Soft Skins who flew about in their own flying nests would understand the meaning of the Pods descent. No matter. The Pods would reach the warm soil of Warmth well before the Swarm came within stinger range of the intruding Soft Skins. Perhaps some Soft Skins would survive the attack of the Swarm. Any that did would be added to the paralyzed food that would nourish the first generation of Swarmers on the world of Warmth.

♦   ♦   ♦

Support Hunter Seven inhaled the scent of the Pods release order from Hunter One’s Matron. It was the only good scent news he had sensed in many rest cycles. At last, Hunter One was doing what they had been sent to do. Colonize the nest world below them. That effort had been interrupted by the arrival of diseased Soft Skins. Rather than attack immediately as was Swarm tradition, Hunter One had arranged the deception of the meeting site. He gave brief credit to the colonizing leader. The deception had allowed for the killing of Soft Skin leaders. And a Soft Skin flying nest had already departed in an early sign of chaos and confusion. Soon, their two six-groups of flying nests would attack the intruding Soft Skins. Perhaps in the attack, Hunter One would be injured or killed. He hoped so. However, he guarded his feelings least he emit any sign of disloyalty. Pheromones were the natural way of speech. Thought gave way to pheromones which conveyed one’s feelings, one’s emotions and one’s words to anyone close enough to smell them. The invention of remote pheromone signaling devices meant he smelled every pheromone released on the nest of Hunter One, just as that leader smelled every scent released on his ship. With an effort he released an aggregation pheromone, signaling loyalty to the orders of Hunter One.

“Matron, release our Pods,” he scent cast to the female resting behind him in his Flight Chamber.

“Release scent emitted,” rasped the older female.

There was only a single Matron on each flying nest of the Swarm’s colonizing flight. Which made them both unique and valuable. Eventually his Matron would join the Matrons on other Swarmer nests in descending to the world of Warmth, there to give guidance to the new generation of Swarmers. That was for later. Now, it was time for the attack.

“Servant,” he called to the Swarmer in charge of directing Fighter Leaders and Fighters. “Tell our Fighters to move to their sky bolt devices. Also send some Fighters to our sky light weapons. Make sure our mindless particle disruption seeds are ready for launch. And warn the defender Fighters to prepare for Soft Skin attack on our outer hard shell.”

Alarm and releaser pheromones filled the Flight Chamber.

Inside, in his mind, Support Hunter Seven planned for the day when he would lead the other flying nests. Hunter One could not make perfect scent casts all the time. A moment of error would come. When that happened, he would lead his flying nest to take control of the colonizing effort. Being in charge of what mattered was a long tradition in the cohort of Hunters.