The Black Guardians: Book 4 in the Black Guard series, page 13
Noam laughed. "Then she will be happy to know I can provide a break in the boredom. No war, but a break in the routine. The Malin government has asked to talk with the Jax and to bring a test pilot. I’m not sure of the agenda, but Commander Olsen is providing several fighters, including one for you, which will be transferred to the Deathstalker. You will be gone about ten days, so it's best you stop praying for war during that time." Noam grinned. "I talked to Captain Sapir for a few minutes. She said you asked about the no-awards policy, and said you indicated you liked the idea for the Guardians."
"I do, sir," I said, “especially now that both units are under you. It would not only make the units look more compatible, but I think it minimizes competition, and maybe recklessness, while promoting camaraderie. Look, we are all alike."
"All right, I'll talk to the other Rexes and Falcons and see if there is motivation to make the change.”
That night, Noam invited me to have dinner with Captain Wolf, Colonel Ortega, and him. I was not only the youngest by at least twenty years, the lowest in rank by at least six or seven levels, but the only woman. On a whim, I had decided not to wear my medals, although they were required when in a dress uniform.
"Commander Quinn, I’d like to introduce you to Captain Wolf and Colonel Ortega. Gentlemen, the first commander of a Besra squadron," Noam said. "Quinn, Captain Wolf commands the Deathstalker, and Colonel Ortega commands the marine contingent."
"A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen," I said.
Wolf smiled and looked toward Ortega as he spoke, "By all accounts, the War Horse defeated four cruisers, the Black Guardians are test pilots and instructors at the new advanced pilot training school, and you now command this new unit that includes the Black Guard and the Black Guardians. Interestingly, their uniforms are very similar, including no awards. Oh, and the general is now an admiral." Wolf paused and looked to Ortega. “Do you believe all that, Ortega?"
"I think the cards were shuffled too fast for me to follow even without all the distractions," Ortega said, rubbing his chin with his thumb and forefinger. "Maybe the magician and distractions aren't the real attraction."
“I agree, Ortega," Wolf said, looking off in thought. “No way the War Horse could defeat four cruisers. No way the Skulls came with only four cruisers, knowing Jax has two on permanent duty. The closeness of the names and uniform appear because they are in the same unit, but I doubt that is an accident. No way are we depending on fighters to win a war. So training is not the school's real purpose. A test perhaps. And the young ages of the recruits for the Guardians the biggest distraction. They are undoubtedly our most talented and brightest graduates." Ortega clapped. "So everything we heard was pure rubbish. It is more likely a real secret wrapped in rubbish."
Noam clapped. "A real secret that saved Jax from a vicious raid, and one that needs to remain a secret if Jax is going to continue to survive." He took a sip of wine, then pointed his glass at me. “Commander Caitlin Quinn commands AFS-1, the first advanced fighter squadron in the navy. Her squadron was attached to the War Horse when the Skulls attacked."
"But wasn't mentioned in the account of the battle," Ortega said.
"The reason is simple," Wolf said a wry smile on his lips. "What possible impact could three fighters have in a cruiser engagement?"
"The plan is to have one three-ship Besra squadron on every Jax cruiser," Noam continued, "before the war with the Helix Alliance starts."
Wolf snorted. "That's not very sporting, Admiral. Does it have anything to do with your visit to Malin?"
"I am honestly not sure. I would imagine that Malin would like to know what is going on in the Helix sector and about our engagement with the Skulls. I am not sure why they asked for me to bring one of our advanced fighter pilot school instructors. Ironically, I brought the right one. Caitlin talked with Captain Sapir and decided the Black Guardians shouldn't wear their awards. That's why she is currently out of uniform, since she has been awarded the Navy Cross and the Jax Battle Ribbon.”
Ortega leaned closer and grinned. "That shark is a very appropriate choice. The deadliest fish in the ocean."
"Commander Quinn, I've decided to approve your request with one caveat. Black Guardians are forbidden to wear their awards unless ordered by the J-SOC commander; however, their awards will be posted on their official military records and used when considering assignments, promotions, and other official considerations."
"Thank you, sir," I said, knowing everyone in the Rex and Falcon teams would agree. Competition served no meaningful purpose.
Malin Commonwealth
We reached the Malin system three days later and were received by Malin's first minister and the minister of defense. The first minister was a short man with a pleasant face but keen eyes that appeared to dissect each of us. He wore a white three-quarter robe with red trim and a red six-point star hanging from a white ribbon with red trim. The minister of defense was a tall wiry man with the eyes of a predator. He wore a similar robe with black trim and a six-point star hanging from a white ribbon with black trim.
"Admiral Noam, I am First Minister Wenzel, and this is Minister of Defense Franz. I appreciate you accepting my invitation to visit Malin," he greeted us in Standard as we left our shuttle. The shuttle bay had a twenty-person honor guard dressed in black jackets and white pants who snapped to attention as we exited. "If you would follow me, I have snacks and drinks in my conference room."
He waved to the nearest door. Like the Deathstalker, the cruiser appeared slightly smaller than a standard cruiser but brand new, and I would wager supported the latest weapons and electronics.
"I had heard the Skulls attacked Jax," Wenzel said in a matter-of-fact tone. "I could not help but wonder what was going on in the Helix systems. Because we respect the Jax and have always had a good working relationship, I thought I should get it directly from you rather than depend on rumors."
"As you are probably aware," Noam began, "Outpost and Jax have had a long history of conflict. They were wolves when they arrived in the Helix space and have not changed. The only difference is they are now wearing sheep's clothing. They know we would never partner with Outpost or Valhall or Lariw, so the Helix Alliance is an attempt to force the Jax into a war. As for the League of Skulls, I can assure you they are no longer a problem. Their leadership is dead, and they only have a few ships remaining, which aren't their newest or best. As for the Helix Alliance, a Jax partnership with Outpost is not a viable alternative; therefore, you should have no concerns from the Helix Alliance even if they manage to conquer Jax."
"That is good to hear, Admiral Noam," Wenzel said, then shifted his eyes to Franz.
"Like you, Admiral," Franz said, "Malin has been continuing to evolve our fighters but not the pilots. Of course, they believe they are evolving along with the fighters. Although they may not be the determining factor in a war, they could influence a battle. We" –he intentionally included Wenzel– "wondered if we could benefit from your advanced fighter pilot training and, if so, if you would consider admitting Malin fighter pilots?"
"I would recommend a demonstration to help you decide, and if you believe it would be beneficial, I would be willing to discuss various options,” Noam said and looked to me.
"Sir, if you would pick a couple of your best fighter pilots," I said, "I would be willing to conduct the first challenge we give the students entering the advanced pilot training course."
"What is your first challenge?" Franz asked, sounding interested.
"I let the student chase me until he is close enough to attempt to get a targeting lock on my fighter. At that point, the exercise begins. It ends when one of us gets a lock on the other."
"Doesn't that put you at a distinct disadvantage?" Franz asked.
"Yes, sir, for a pilot with experience and good judgment." I smiled.
"This, I would like to see," Franz said while turning to look at Wenzel. After arranging for a demonstration the next day, we returned to the Deathstalker.
"What do you think the Malin are after?" Wolf asked Noam during dinner that evening.
"A stronger tactical position, but against who, or for what reason, or why, I have no idea," Noam said after a minute's thought. "The show is all yours, Commander Quinn, tomorrow at eight o'clock.”
At seven-thirty the next morning, I was pushed out of the Deathstalker’s fighter bay and immediately knew I had no oxygen, although my oxygen mask appeared to work fine in the bay. "Emergency, no oxygen. Repeat: emergency. I am returning and will need to be seized by the tractor-beam as I doubt I'm going to be functional for long!" I shouted while punching the emergency button on the ejection handle, which would initiate flashing running lights and prepare me for ejection.
Of course, ejecting in space with no oxygen didn't make sense this far from the planet. Even if I had oxygen, I'd burn up entering the atmosphere. I fought to catch up with the Deathstalker as my lungs screamed for air and my head pounded from the lack of oxygen. I knew I was close to passing out and too incapacitated to come up with a solution. My pain ceased as my world went black.
37 - Recovery
Relief flooded through me as I consciously took in a breath of air, even though it didn't smell right. After several breaths, I realized the air smelled of antiseptics, and I was in a hospital room not among the space gods. The values on the machines I was attached to must have activated an alarm as a young nurse came rushing in.
"How do you feel…Commander?" Her voice stumbled over my rank after seeing my appearance.
"Like there is a mining operation going on inside my skull," I said while beginning to wonder what had happened. "Do you know what happened?"
"No," Doctor Morgan said as she pulled back the curtain to my area and entered. "You were reported all right during your preflight checklist but immediately called an emergency the minute you left the bay. You were lucky you stayed functional enough to get close to the Deathstalker's tractors to grab you. By some miracle, you appeared to recover when the bay doors closed. You couldn't have been but seconds from your brain shutting down from a lack of oxygen."
I thought about that for what seemed like hours because my brain felt like it was passing signals through conduits of cold molasses. When the thought finally got through, I shouted, "Lock down my fighter!"
"Your fighter and you are under marine security," Ortega said as he walked into the room. "What happened?"
"My oxygen mask wasn't working," I said, realizing it appeared like it was working initially probably because I was breathing the air in the bay, but the minute the bay opened, I was breathing vacuum.
"Malfunction?"
"No. It wasn't working to begin with. That didn't matter while in the bay," I said, remembering the shock when the bay door opened, but I wasn't fast enough to stop from being pushed out into space and certain death.
"Relax. Your fighter is being guarded by commandos. We didn't want to check the fighter until we could talk to you. Noam has insisted we wait for you to be well enough to be part of the investigation."
I nodded and relaxed back into sleep.
The next day, the doctor released me in time to attend the examination of my fighter. I explained what I remembered, concluding it was my oxygen. Then two Deathstalker fighter mechanics began opening the outer plates to expose the internal wires, cables, and boxes. Petty Officer First Class Fredric, the fighter mechanic from the War Horse, stood off to the side watching.
The older mechanic gave a bark of a laugh, his stern focus turning into amusement as he grabbed a hose. "Someone disconnected the line from the oxygen mask to the oxygen system."
"An accident or sloppy work?" Noam asked.
"No. Repair work is always inspected by the senior mechanic and logged. The log shows no work near the oxygen, and the senior mechanic inspected the work and signed off on it, and it shows no work since leaving the War Horse. The most convincing argument for it having been done on purpose though is that it was flown over to the Deathstalker from the War Horse and no problems were noted."
Looking over at Petty Officer Fredric, he looked nervous, and his eyes were darting all around the bay as if looking for somewhere to run or hide. I had a suggestion–into space, but restrained myself.
"I say whoever did this is guilty of attempted murder and treason, since he intended to wreck negotiations with another nation," Noam said, looking to the two mechanics, who nodded in agreement.
"I didn't intend to interfere with any negotiations," Fredric blurted out. "It was just intended to make Commander Quinn look foolish for embarrassing the War Horse's fighter pilots.”
"What pilots did she embarrass, Petty Officer?" Noam asked.
"Lieutenant Jacabe told me she needed to be taken down a peg for embarrassing the fighter pilots and ruining morale on the War Horse," Fredric said, trying to justify his actions.
"Captain, have Lieutenant Jacabe detained on the surface of Jax and held in isolation, and put Fredric in the brig and make sure he is also isolated until we return to Jax," Noam said, then turned to me. "Quinn, do you feel well enough to conduct the demonstration with Malin?"
"If I can have an additional oxygen bottle," I only half-quipped. That incident had really shaken me. "Yes, sir," I added more to assure myself than Noam. He nodded.
The next morning, I was sitting in the fighter nervously waiting for the fighter bay doors to open. Normally, I was excited to be released, but that incident was threatening to take away my love of flying. Although I knew the bay chief was waiting on me to give the signal to release the fighter, I closed my eyes and fell into a meditative state. When I opened my eyes, the fear had gone. Yes, flying was dangerous, but so were other activities. Flying was in my blood, so if I was going to die, what better way than doing something I loved while protecting Jax and my loved ones? I raised my arm and dropped it, pointing out of the bay, in a signal to release me. A minute later, I was soaring through the open sky, laughing like a kid with a new toy.
"Malin tower, this is Jax fighter one prepared to begin the first challenge. Since I'm already at forty thousand meters, you can send up the first pilot to play-target me," I said, feeling far too good. He appeared five minutes later, and less than a minute in, my sensors indicated he was attempting to obtain a lock.
I spun left and executed several corkscrew maneuvers as I dove towards the planet. When I was at five thousand meters, I banked hard right, catching my pursuer off guard, and he had to scramble to keep me from getting behind him and a lock.
Then I shot straight up again. My pursuer was slow to respond. He increased his acceleration to recover his lost ground, but as he did, I cut my engine, and he streaked by me. I stayed on his tail for the next five minutes as he tried to lose me, but I kept him in a position to get an easy lock. I finally decided to get a lock, and then spun away from him.
"Jax fighter one, this is Malin tower. We have another challenger."
"Send him up," I replied, feeling relaxed, calm, and on a soaring high.
This pilot was more cautious. When my sensors indicated he was probing for a lock, I began an overhead loop, which the pilot followed smoothly and managed to stay close as I tightened the loop and increased the g-force.
He broke off at 5.3 g-force, and I slid in behind him. There I followed for five minutes before deciding to end it by getting a lock.
Noam had me meet him back on the Deathstalker. When I arrived, he was talking with Wenzel and Franz, who waved for me to join them.
"My pilots said you were a witch that knew their next move before they did," Franz said. "What about their flying?"
"They need to relax more," I said, thinking about their efforts to get a lock and their efforts to avoid me getting one. "They are too tense and therefore acting desperate rather than planning their attack, and they need to understand their g-force limits. Not knowing that limit gives your opponent a huge advantage or, conversely, it limits your potential advantage."
"Why didn't you get your target lock sooner? They sensed you could have," Franz asked.
"I wanted to see how they would react when they couldn't lose me. I'm an instructor. I was evaluating them."
Franz returned to Wenzel and nodded. When he did, Wenzel addressed Noam. "Admiral Noam, would you consider a contract to teach our pilots?"
"Yes, First Minister. I think we could come to an agreement."
38 - Malin Debriefing
The three committee members sat relaxing in the Jax Committee lounge sipping wine from glasses engraved with the Jax Committee seal, stark and simple: a black circle with a silver trident and long sword crossed in the middle and the Jax oath – Take No Prisoners – circling the outer edge. The seal was a reminder of Jax's dark years fighting to survive the constant raids by Outpost, Valhall, and Lariw and the formation of the Jax Vengeance Committee, later renamed the Jax War Committee, and more recently the Jax Military Committee.
"What did Malin want?" Lerman asked. He had little trust for anyone not Jax.
"Information about the Skulls mainly. Although they are large enough to win a confrontation with any of the existing systems, they have been noticing a general buildup of cruisers and fighters across the five inhabitable clusters coupled with the recent mercenary formation of the League of Skulls and now the Helix Alliance and are trying to assess the potential impact on Malin. He invited me to Malin to find out more about the rumored Skulls invasion of Jax, our advanced fighter pilot school, and the Helix Alliance."
"Don't you think their direct approach a bit strange, Lucas?" Geller asked, frowning with concern. Jax had enough trouble without Malin's interest in the Helix cluster.
"Yes and no," Noam said, grinning. "We have intentionally limited information about the Skulls attack, and Joshsa has done the same with the alliance. Consequently, what Malin is getting are hundreds of rumors. Not what any intelligence agency wants, like reaching into a fish bowl to select the answer to your question. Malin knew what they wanted and what they were willing to trade."
