The Black Guardians: Book 4 in the Black Guard series, page 12
After everyone had been briefed, Noam dismissed everyone except Hwang and the Besra crews.
"It's almost hysterical," Hwang began, looking to Noam. "I have been ignoring the Besra squadron, not sure how they would fit into the War Horse's strategy in an engagement. When I heard we were facing eight Skulls warships, I didn't know what to tell Commander Quinn to do. She was so calm I almost yelled at her that this wasn't a practice exercise. But before I could, she tells me I have three Tyrannosaurus rex ready to cause havoc, and to just let them go. My head was spinning with how to minimize the coming disaster, so I told her to go. My conclusion for the captains who get a Besra squadron is not to try to incorporate them into the cruiser's strategy. Tell the squadron leader the current situation and just let him or her go–like an attack dog."
Noam nodded. "Hwang, I believe you are right, which means we have to be careful who we pick for squadron leaders."
Ryan snorted a laugh, but Noam spoke before he could offer an apology.
"What, Ryan?" Noam asked.
"Kat… Commander Quinn's decisions always scare the crap out of me, but I never think they will get us killed. It's like she has us wrapped in a protected force field."
"Aggressive bordering on reckless, but not foolish," Noam said. "Like Captain Sapir of the Black Guard. I'll let Hwang decide who gets which medals, but all of your temporary ranks are now permanent. Quinn will be award the Navy Cross, everyone else the Silver Star, and you and everyone on the War Horse will get a special Jax Battle Ribbon." He laughed. "You are probably the only group who didn't earn a Purple Heart, but I think we can authorize each of you a Sharp Shooter medal."
33 - Analyzing Rumors
"Martin, what the fuck happened?" Joshsa asked as Mason entered the room behind Vega. It was three weeks after the Skulls attacked Jax.
"My contacts tell me nobody knows for sure. The rumor mill has at least a hundred variations," Mason said with a shrug. "It is certain the Skulls decided to raid Jax with somewhere between four and eight ships, and none returned. If true, that leaves the Skulls with older ships that need repairs and are barely functional."
Joshsa turned to Vega, clearly frustrated. "Vega, what have you heard?”
“I have a few contacts who know people on Jax.” Vega nodded. “The word is that the Home fleet, primarily the War Horse, defeated four Skulls cruisers. Apparently, the other cruiser on Home duty, the Crouching Tiger, was late to the party. That, at least, is the most consistent rumor. Another less specific rumor gives one of the kills to a group of fighter pilots who attended a school for advanced training."
"That is pretty much what my sources heard," Joshsa said, then slammed his fist on the table where they were sitting. "We need specific information, not rumors. Our fight with Jax will be winner takes all. Jax won't settle for a peace agreement if we fail to win outright. They will continue until one side has nothing that can fly more than a few meters off the surface, and will check back regularly to ensure that doesn't change."
Both men nodded agreement.
"I had planned to start pushing the Jax merchants, but I don't think that would be a good idea after the incident with the Skulls. I doubt the Jax are in a mood to be pushed. And starting a fight with them before we are ready could result in our total defeat. Let's wait and see if we can find out what the Jax are doing while we build up the Helix fleet. We each have a cruiser in manufacturing, so we can produce at least three per year."
"Not much good if one Jax cruiser is equivalent to four of ours," Vega said. "If they have six right now, we would need twenty-four with experienced crews. Furthermore, if they only build one a year, our three won't be enough."
"What if there really were eight Skulls ships?" Mason asked. He and Vega sat looking slightly pale as they searched their empty glasses.
"Nonsense!" Joshsa shouted. "You are conjuring up mythical dragons where there are only hawks. The Jax are formable opponents, but they are men who can be killed and fly ships that can be destroyed. Use your sources. Buy new ones. We need the real facts about what happened, not what Jax wants us to believe. When we know the truth, we can plan how best to destroy the arrogant bastards." Joshsa filled three glasses, raised his, and the men clinked glasses in solidarity.
34 - The Besra Expansion
We had been on the War Horse just over three months when AFS-2, Advance Fighter Squadron two, arrived and was assigned to the Crouching Tiger. We spent the month working with Josh and Marcelli to install the new monitor and antenna, discussing modifications that had not existed when they were training, our squadron cover story, the Skulls invasion, and the real version of the battle.
"I'm envious," Josh said. "In less than three months, your acting promotion is permanent, and you have earned two prestigious medals."
"Right place at the right time and luck," I said, knowing it was true like with so many things in life, like my mother's contraceptive device failing–a one-in-several-thousand event. "If Outpost can create a scenario for a Helix Alliance war against the Jax, there will be plenty of opportunities to earn medals. Just try to avoid the Purple Heart."
Two months later, I was notified that the War Horse was being put on normal rotational duty and being replaced by the Screeching Eagle and AFS-3 headed by Hasli with Estee his weapons officer. Since the War Horse's crew had been on duty for a year, everyone was entitled to two weeks’ leave, many others were being transferred to other cruisers when they returned, and still others were being retired after twenty-five years of active service. That meant I also got two weeks’ leave. As Home fleet had been stationed out of North Lake Station, I stopped in to check my records and arranged transportation home–a unique perk afforded to the Guardians. Normally, you only got transportation to the station that was the headquarters for your specialty.
I found my medals officially included: the Navy Cross, the Jax Battle Ribbon, and the Sharp Shooter, in addition to the senior fighter pilot and the Black Guardian insignia. I entered the shuttle to Kinsal City and was met by Warrant Willsen. I smiled, knowing it wasn't going to be a boring trip. To my surprise he saluted me. A surprise, since we didn't do much saluting on the War Horse.
"It's just me, Willsen," I said after returning the salute.
"Hey, Boyant, look who our passenger is. Lieutenant Commander Caitlin Quinn, and she has a chest full of medals, including the Navy Cross and one I've never seen.”
Boyant stepped out of the pilot's compartment and whistled.
"What's the black ribbon with the blood-red V in the middle," Willsen asked, pointing to the ribbon.
"The Jax Battle Ribbon," I said, brimming with pride.
"Wow, you fought against the Skulls fleet," Boyant said, clearly impressed. "And her fighter pilot insignia badge pin has a star and oak leaves, indicating a senior pilot. This must have been a wild year, Commander."
"Kat, please. That is what everyone calls me," I said. "I was assigned to Home fleet on the War Horse when the Skulls invaded Jax. I will tell you what I can on the ride to Kinsal City."
As usual, it was a fun ride. I gave the two as much information as I could, mostly cloaked in the official cover story. At Kinsal City, I received a lot of stares and whispered comments as I walked the streets to my parents’ home, feeling like a stranger, yet at peace. It was late, and this time I had sent a message I would be arriving late, so my younger brother Neil answered the door.
He had a serious expression on his face. "If she deserted the navy, she didn't come here," he said, looking defiant. Then he stepped forward and grabbed me in a bear hug and shouted, "Caitlin's home!"
I was surprised to find I was almost as tall as him. Mom and Dad were appraising me when Neil put me down.
"Neil, I think you are hugging some navy lieutenant commander, not your sister," my father said, looking serious. "She may forgive you, as she does resemble your sister."
"I'm glad you warned me, Caitlin," my mother said, "or I might have had a heart attack… With the new rank and the medals, you look so much older. Hard to believe it has only been a year."
"It's the uniform, Eve," my father said, shaking his head in disbelief.
"Roze, come meet my little sister." Neil smiled, mischief in his eyes. "Roze is my fiancée," he whispered as a girl Neil's height with long black hair and delicate features came from the kitchen smiling.
"I’m jealous, Caitlin. Neil talks about you all the time. You're his idol," she said and stuck out a hand. I took it and pulled her into a hug. It was good to be home and among family and soon nephews and nieces.
I found out that Aislin was three months pregnant and Sean a hovering father-to-be.
"He’s like a man with a fragile two-thousand-year-old sculpture," Aislin said with a mixture of frustration and love. "I keep telling him neither I nor the baby are delicate, and we won't break if I take a walk or do chores. I'm good Irish stock."
I spent hours talking about flying a fighter, life aboard a war cruiser, and my friends and crew. In turn, I heard about their lives. It was a wonderful vacation and a good opportunity to relax before my new responsibilities on a working cruiser in potentially hostile waters.
35 - Returning from Leave
When I reached North Lake Station, there were shuttles coming and going every thirty minutes. Many of the sailors had been on the War Horse for a year or more, so over half the crew was being reassigned and many others had taken leave, which meant over three hundred personnel were waiting to join the ship.
"Hi, Kat," I heard as Ryan stepped up beside me. I was surprised when no one complained until I realized most of the officers above Junior Lieutenant had gone directly to the duty officer rather than wait in line while I, a lieutenant commander, had joined the line. I considered waiting a normal navy duty.
"Hi, Ryan. Are you ready for some real navy duty?" I asked.
Ryan gave me a hurt look. "What did you call our last tour?" he asked in disbelief.
"We didn't earn Purple Hearts, so I say it was only mildly interesting."
"You really are certifiable. Would you like to have earned a Purple Heart?" Ryan asked, generating interested looks from those in line around us.
"It would be a nice offsetting color. None of my ribbons have purple, and purple goes good with gold," I said, which caused several close to us to strain to see my four medals without appearing to look. Then, the whispering started like a tidal wave up and down the line. I blushed red, having gotten caught up in my banter with Ryan and forgetting I was in line, since the petty officers were giving Ryan and me extra space.
"Pardon, ma'am, you and the lieutenant were on the War Horse when the Skulls invaded?" asked a burly petty officer first class, who looked like he had found a thousand-credit chip.
"As I remember," I said, squinting, "the crew of the War Horse made short work of the Skulls. The League of Skulls is now just a pile of burnt bones."
I could almost hear a silent “oorah!” from those in line as I handed my orders to a smiling Commander Petron, the XO.
"For your sake, I hope this tour won't be so boring, Commander Quinn," Petron said as he handed me back my orders.
"She is certifiable," Ryan said as he handed Petron his orders. Petron nodded in agreement as he returned Ryan's orders.
Afterward, we didn't have anything to do as we already had assigned quarters, so I wandered to Fighter Bay 3 where the Besras were parked. Captain Hwang had assigned a permanent marine guard to restrict access to the bay. He passed me after only a cursory look at my ID and the black uniform. Inside, I found a couple of the maintenance crew assigned to the Besra and Teressa.
"Hi, Teressa, making sure your Besra is still here?" I asked, smiling.
"Yes, ma'am," Teressa said then grinned. "Does it feel as weird to you as it does to me to be referred to as ma'am? Can't help feeling like looking over my shoulder to see if my mother is following me."
I nodded. "Many of the newest navy recruits are about my age. When I'm walking around town in my uniform, I expect any minute to be arrested by the military police for impersonating an officer. But when I step into the Besra, it feels right."
"What do you think this tour will be like?" Teressa asked.
"Double boring," I said with a look of disgust. "I expect most cruisers are little more than a bus service for the Jax army and to and from assignments. And after crushing the Skulls, I suspect the temptation to harass the War Horse is going to be even less than before."
The next day, Hwang invited me to dine with him. When I arrived, I found Hwang, Petron, Wolfson, Olsen and a tall woman in a Black Guard uniform standing around talking.
"Here she is," Hwang said while waving me over to where they stood talking. “Commander Quinn, I'd like you to meet Captain Sapir of the Black Guard. Captain Sapir, this is Commander Quinn of the Black Guardians." He smiled. "An interesting dilemma. With the new reorganization, the cruiser crew, including the fighter pilots, belong to Admiral Geller, the commandos to General Lerman, and the Black Guard and Black Guardians to Admiral Noam, giving the War Horse three separate independent commands all tasked with doing the right thing for Jax. The amazing thing from my perspective is that it works, although it should be a disaster in the making."
"I heard of the formation of the Black Guardians, but you are the first one I've met, Commander Quinn," Sapir said, then pointed to my medals. "You appear to have earned your rank the hard way. The Black Guard's initial rank is determined by competition within the candidates."
"The dragon on your collar and the double dragon on your sleeve were both earned," I said, having spent time while on the War Horse learning about our sister organization. "I'm so young the medals look good, but I kind of like the no-medals concept. Maybe we can get Admiral Noam to adopt that for the Guardians." I smiled and gave a short laugh, which might have sounded more like a giggle. "Although, I would like to keep my fighter pilot and Guardian insignia."
Sapir smiled. "Medals have a tendency to promote a hierarchy, whereas some rewards are more personal accomplishments."
"Damned if these two aren't cut out of the same piece of battle metal," Wolfson said. "Sapir, what's your mission this time?”
"My troops and I are supposed to protect a king and his family while the army tries to sort out the mess he has made of his kingdom.”
36 - Tordova Assignment
"I like being on a cruiser; however, it can certainly be boring for non-crew members like fighter pilots, commandos, and us since we have no regular duties," I complained as my squadron sat drinking kaffa and eating snacks from the dessert island. "At least the Black Guard has an assignment on Tordova and the commandos have exercises they can run."
"You could learn a martial art or go to the firing range," Ryan suggested.
"Neither skill is worthwhile inside a two-person Besra," I said. "There has to be something to do to keep us from going stark raving mad."
"Eat, sleep, and make friends," Ryan said with a goofy smile.
"If I just eat and sleep," I whined, "I'll soon look like a bowling ball with hair and feet. Of course, I could pray for evil men with a fleet of cruisers intent on destroying humanity, but with my luck, they would skip Tordova. The space gods probably consider the Skulls my once-in-a-lifetime wish granted."
"What about Outpost?" Ryan asked.
"When they heard about the fate of the Skulls, they would have slithered back into their pit, and we won't hear from them until after we retire," I said, warming to my rant. "Sapir and the army are having a party down on Tordova, and she didn't invite her sister unit. It's not fair!"
"You volunteered," Ryan said while grinning.
"I volunteered for excitement," I said and pursed my lips in thought. "Maybe we can add a suspended animation unit in our Besra for when we are waiting for a war to break out."
"You are incorrigible," Ryan said. “I don't mind some excitement now and then, but I like peace and quiet. Besides, we aren't prohibited from dating, and there are at least a hundred good looking and eligible women and men to entertain us." He laughed, and then grinned. "Not to mention frequent transfers in and out to provide new blood. Could take years to get bored."
I had to admit that Ryan was partly right. Talking to off-duty personnel about their jobs and experiences was interesting, and the cruiser did have an exercise and entertainment room to pass the time. We were still pretty much a novelty and sought out by off-duty personnel; however, keeping the cover story straight could be challenging.
Two weeks later, while exercising, a flushed petty officer second class stopped by me and stood watching me struggling to press sixty pounds for the nineteenth time. Thank the space gods, I mused, a reason to stop this archaic torture.
“Ma'am, the captain would like to see you in his office," the freckled-face youth said now that he had regained his breath and I had racked the weight. "He has Admiral Noam with him."
That ended any thought I might have had about having a shower and putting on a clean uniform.
"Tell the captain you found me in the gym, and I will be there as fast as I can get dressed," I said, hoping they wouldn't be too unhappy if I had a very brief shower before changing into a uniform and running to his office. I smiled as I darted toward the locker room showers.
Nine minutes later, the guard at the captain's door knocked, opened the door a crack, and then opened it wide enough for me to enter. I entered, braced to attention, and saluted.
"At ease, Kat, and sit," Hwang said, turning toward Noam. "I believe your commander has been unsuccessfully praying for war to break out somewhere."
