Hannah Sawyer (Kinsella Universe Book 3), page 22
Reluctantly, she gave the order to rejoin Rome. While the squadron was rearming, she and the others with full racks joined the CAP, worried about what the bad guys were planning.
Half of the defending fighters were gone now. Because the CAP was still at full strength, the attack against the enemy was faltering. The tar baby seemed to hold an inexhaustible source of fighters. Then it was time to go, and Donna, tired to the bone, still ordered a twelve minute dogleg.
There was still fighting going on, but it was clear that Rome’s defenders were now on the wrong side of the odds.
She told the others her plan about early deployment of their missiles. Maybe it would make a difference, maybe not.
She was a second from giving the order to deploy missiles when her scanner hiccupped and started having kittens. “This is Razor Leader, my scanner is fubar. Tiger Two, you have the squadron.”
A voice laughed. “Mine isn’t fubar, it’s dead!”
“I think it’s a real reading,” Zodiac reported. “I mean, something huge just dropped from fan. I mean, huge! Maybe fifteen clicks, a couple dozen billion metric tons.”
“Target is launching fighters!” someone else reported.
Donna cursed her blank sensors. What the hell was this? Had Light Huygeens decided to throw in some sensor spoofing on top of everything else?
“Those fighters are attacking the aliens!” the excited voice said. “Good grief, look at that!”
“Look at what?” Donna said, her voice sarcastic. Her scanner was still trying to reset, but hadn’t managed yet. Lidar took too long to update.
“The newcomer ship just started launching missiles! Those missiles have fans! Hundred g plus fans! Thousands of missiles!”
For a second Donna had a flash back, to Colinda Drake reporting on what was probably an alien ship.
“Disengage!” Donna called. “You may not fire on any ship unless it fires on you! Pull back! Don’t go to High Fan, just pull back on a 180 degree reverse bearing.”
Which meant they had to slow and stop, before they would start retracing their course.
“Lieutenant Merriweather?” another voice broke in, one of the other squadron’s pilots. “Why aren’t you engaging?”
“It’s another bunch of aliens, who like our enemies as much as we do. Do you want to start a fight with someone who can launch a small moon as a battleship?”
“There are maybe a thousand fighters up now,” the one pilot with working sensors reported. “Thousands of missiles are running under fan, chasing hostiles. None appear directed at us!”
“Do you understand what I’m saying?” Donna said.
“We have no orders to disengage,” the emotionless voice said.
“Well, I’m giving the order, mister! Disengage! Pull back! Signal them and tell them we’re friends. Do it with radio and not lasers. No matter what, don’t shoot!”
Her scanner finished its reset. “Shit!” Donna said fervently. There weren’t nearly as many alien fighters as there had been moments before and most of the survivors were bugging out.
“Howdy,” Donna said into an open radio circuit. “We’re from Earth. You’ve never heard of it, but it’s a nice place. These bastards you’re shooting at don’t much like us, and we really don’t like them either. From your attitude, I think you know exactly what I mean. I’d like to say thanks for what you’re doing here. We’d like to talk, if you’re willing!”
The last of the alien ships, or at least, the last of Light Huygeen’s fighters departed. Suddenly Donna started laughing. She had trouble controlling herself.
The pompous snot from before spoke up. “Lieutenant, I’m going to assume command -- we have to make contact here, Lieutenant. You’re obviously in no shape to command...”
The huge ship suddenly twisted space, leaving a truly awesome ripple in space-time. A second later, the fighters that had been launched departed as well.
“What part of ‘this is an exercise,’ don’t you understand, Lieutenant?” Donna said, still giggling.
She sobered quickly. “Does anyone have a working scanner? Mine’s fritzed again. Is the sky clear?”
“The sky is clear, Lieutenant,” Admiral Kinney’s voice came over the latch frame. “All fighters return to Rome. Jump point thirty-two. All squadron commanders will pass a headcount to Captain Sanchez within ten minutes of landing aboard. You will report the last known position of anyone missing, and your previous and next jump coordinates, intrinsic velocity and any maneuver orders you passed.”
* * *
For Hannah the next few days were hell. Nearly a dozen pilots were missing, including her own squadron’s Exec. Everything that could fly was up, flying under low fan, searching the entire volume of the exercise area and, on her recommendation, it was huge. All but four pilots were found. One of those missing was Lieutenant Harlan. Like the other three, he had simply vanished.
Finally, Rome and her escorts were underway again; they’d expended nearly two weeks to do an exercise that could have been done in simulators, with no loss of pilots or fighters, in a day or so.
Gloria’s death had been terrible -- but it was an accident that neither Hannah nor Gloria had any control over. The four pilots were either dead or soon would be when their life support ran out -- and it was her fault. And the exercise had consumed nearly two weeks. Two irreplaceable weeks!
How could she face the others? They would know she’d killed some of their friends; people they’d known and trained with...
She sat in her compartment, sitting on the edge of her bunk, staring at infinity.
She never heard him come in, she didn’t notice when he sat down next to her. She wasn’t sure why she finally realized someone was holding her hand. Her first reaction was hope that it was Gloria; then there was a sick feeling inside her, realizing that it certainly wasn’t.
She pulled her hand back.
“Sucks, doesn’t it?” Ernesto said.
Hannah looked at him and managed not to cry on main strength and the knowledge that Gloria wouldn’t have.
Captain Sanchez started talking. “Commander Janice Cross was my department head on Agrabat. There was no sweeter, kinder, more caring and compassionate officer aboard. Nor one as dedicated and professional. She was the senior officer aboard, standing command watch, when the attack came.
“When our Engineer, Ethan Douglas, told her that he’d get us up in minutes, she had to have known what that meant. More so when he ordered everyone out of the engineering spaces.
“Hastings came to our rescue, after the battle. Commander Cross had a fight with Turbine Jensen in the airlock, even though she was seriously ill from radiation poisoning. We’d taken a near miss as well as having our own internal problems. The medics wanted her off the ship before the few of us who’d been in shielded spaces went. She was determined to be last, no matter what our condition was or what hers was.
“Commander Jensen and my tech carried her stretcher; I’d broken my wrist and all I could do was hold her drip bag with my good hand; we all went together. When we were off and the hatch sealed, she broke down. ‘What have I done to my people?’ she asked Jensen.
“He told her the truth: ‘You did them proud! You did us all proud!’”
“’But there are so few!’ and Jensen leaned down and kissed her on each cheek. ‘True, Commander, but you brought the rest of them out!’”
The new captain of the Rome reached out and touched Hannah’s shoulder lightly, then shook her mildly. “Lieutenant, the official estimate is one percent of pilots would be lost on extended missions with multiple jumps; I also heard you express yourself about that number once. Nearly eight hundred and fifty ships were up; we lost four. That’s less than half a percent, Hannah. Less than half of what we estimated. Hannah, Light Huygeens said it once before: you’re a woman who knows how to fly!”
“And what happened to Commander Cross?” Hannah asked.
Ernesto squeezed her shoulder gently one last time. “She died before we reached Fleet World. The bastards should have given her the Federation Star but there’s that stupid rule you have to be alive to accept it.”
Chapter 11
Hannah sat at the desk in her compartment staring at the comp screen. Ernesto had left; he was Captain Sanchez, now, in command of the Rome. When she thought about it, all she could do was shake her head. How do you go from a smiling, genial student in fighter transition, to the captain of humanity’s first fighter carrier in less than six months?
She turned back to the screen where she’d gone to the entry under “Fleet Awards and Medals” for the Federation Star. Most medals had elaborate criteria that had to be met. For the Federation Star the rules consisted of one sentence. “Awarded to living members of Fleet Aloft who, by their individual action, have saved the Federation or a significant fraction thereof.”
The entries were sparse. Under Turbine Jensen there were listings for two awards. Like the definition itself, they were succinct. “Gandalf. By his actions alone, Commander of the Fleet Thomas Jensen, acting in command of Fleet Cruiser Hastings, saved humanity.” Beneath that was a similar terse entry. “Fleet World. By his actions alone, Commander of the Fleet Thomas Jensen, commanding Fleet Cruiser Hastings, saved humanity.”
Beneath his entry was another, somewhat wordier, for Vice Admiral Charles Gull. “Snow Dance. By the action of Vice Admiral of the Fleet Charles Gull, acting in concert with the captains of his subordinate units of Fleet Aloft, Frigate Donner, Fleet Captain Sophie Heisenberg commanding, Frigate Blitzen, Fleet Captain Irene Heisenberg commanding, research vessel Nihon, Flag Captain Evan Carlson commanding, did engage and destroy four enemy ships designated supply and replenishment vessels, two enemy vessels believed to be command and control ships and six heavy cruiser equivalents. This action terminated two of the eight enemy axes of attack, saving uncounted billions of lives.”
Easily the strangest entry was for “Wilhelmina (Willow) Wolf.”
“Agincourt. Then a civilian, Willow Wolf did assist the captain of her civilian vessel to survive when all others in the system died in an attack by four enemy ships.
“Gandalf. Acting as supernumerary crew, Willow Wolf assisted Fleet Captain William Travers, commanding Fleet Auxiliary Starfarer’s Dream, to escape and evade an attack by an enemy cruiser class vessel.
“Tannenbaum. Ensign of the Fleet Willow Wolf installed a Fleet laser aboard Fleet Auxiliary Cargo Vessel Starfarer’s Dream, Fleet Captain William Travers commanding, utilizing enlisted Fleet Marines to assist her labors. Ensign Wolf, acting as Weapons Control Officer, destroyed two of four enemy ships, one attempting to attack a habitat, during the action at Tannenbaum. No other Fleet ships saw action at Tannenbaum. The surviving attackers fled the battleground.
“New Helgoland. In the action at New Helgoland, five ships attacked the system. Ensign of the Fleet Willow Wolf, acting as Weapons Control Officer of Fleet Auxiliary Cargo Vessel Starfarer’s Dream, Fleet Captain William Travers commanding, engaged two of five attacking vessels and destroyed them. By her action alone she saved a habitat under direct attack and a Fleet cruiser that had suffered fatal damage after destroying an enemy ship. Two additional Fleet ships engaged at New Helgoland destroyed enemy ships; no further attacks were noted along another enemy attack line, saving uncounted millions of lives.”
That was straightforward, what followed was not. “Initial award disallowed, due to the irregular status of subject officer’s enlistment.”
Then more entries for Willow Wolf.
“Epsilon Eriadne. As Weapons Control Officer aboard Fleet Cruiser Warlock, Fleet Commodore William Travers commanding, weapons department head Lieutenant Commander Willow Wolf, acting in concert with two other ships, engaged eighteen enemy vessels. Two Fleet ships were lost, but sixteen of eighteen enemy vessels were destroyed, fourteen by Lieutenant Commander of the Fleet Willow Wolf.
“Gamma Eriadne. Four Fleet aloft vessels engaged eleven enemy cruiser-class warships. Two Fleet ships were lost, Lieutenant Commander Willow Wolf, personally destroyed nine of eleven attacking vessels.”
Again, the notation: “Award disallowed as all systems were uninhabited. Protests were noted from all but one of the active Fleet Aloft operational admirals; Admiral Juranaga was then under confinement to quarters and shot the next day for dereliction of duty and failure to engage, entirely in regards to another matter.”
Then a simple: “First award reinstated by unanimous vote of the Federation Council. Second award reinstated by unanimous vote of the Federation Council.”
Or, to put it another way, the weapons officer who’d destroyed more enemy warships than any officer, other than Turbine Jensen, had finally gotten her due. Twenty-seven enemy cruisers? What was that worth? Five or ten billion people, at least, according to the numbers.
Janice Cross was there, her award disallowed because she was dead. Admiral Ito Saito had declined his award at Gandalf, citing special circumstances. Half the Fleet was sure he’d killed his own nephew, who had been in command of the ship he’d been visiting; the other half thought he’d provided the pistol and patiently waited until the deed was done.
There were, no doubt about it, a lot of very fine, very brave people in Fleet Aloft. Hannah even had Admiral Nagoya’s “natural leader” plan explained to her, because more than once she’d heard it in reference to herself. She’d talked to Ernesto and he explained to her what it was about.
The idea was to place junior officers in positions of responsibility that they would not normally be eligible for. Or, in fact, considered suited for.
Willow Wolf was the classic case in point. The admiral at New Helgoland who’d nominated her for her first star had written a formal apology to her because he hadn’t noticed she had been injured in action and she had collapsed during a parade in her honor.
The admiral had asked the other weapons officers at New Helgoland how long they believed it would take to install a laser as she’d done, and what the minimum rank an officer would likely need to be, to know enough to do it. Most had said a month would have been needed for the changes, given a dock. Some had said it couldn’t be done underway. None had suggested that it could have been done by an officer without at least the equivalent experience of a lieutenant commander.
Quite a few officers of the “old” fleet had been appalled at the promotions being strewn about. Willow Wolf was now a full commander; Bethany Booth was a lieutenant commander, detailed to intelligence. David Zinder was dead, killed with so many others at New Cairo, but he’d been his admiral’s staff deputy for operations, normally a job held at least by a full captain. The staff deputy for intelligence, for instance, had been a commodore.
And now, Ernesto Sanchez, who’d been a senior lieutenant and the assistant communications department head at the start of the war, was the captain of humanity’s largest warship now. Even Evelyn Warner, who wasn’t particularly young, had received two promotions. Captain Warner had thought it was a mistake by BuPers, but now Hannah was sure it had been deliberate. Wherever Captain Warner was now, she was doing a fine, fine job!
Humanity had gone into space with all of its industry on the ground. It had taken a century, more or less, to bootstrap Earth’s total productive capacity off planet. But they’d done it. After that, production kept easy pace with demand and companies learned to predict when more capacity would be needed and supply and demand were kept roughly in equilibrium.
With the start of the war, however, everything had changed. Ships and ship components went to the top of the priority list. Or, as one HD wag had said, it was now impossible to buy new refrigerators, ranges, dishwashers, washing machines and dryers. Home appliance plants had been converted almost instantly into military component plants.
Humanity had learned a lot during the hundred-year, “bootstrap” period as they moved industry into space. Now they applied that to manufacturing war materials. Literally, in the period of a year, a great many items were being produced at ten or a hundred times the previous rate. In another year production would be ten times higher still -- and the consumer goods would once again be produced.
Already, new construction had all but made up the early ship losses of the war, and the construction now in progress would replicate that ten times over in the next few years. More than six hundred new ships were to be added to Fleet Aloft in the first year. And each of those ships would require trained officers and trained crews.
In the first months of the war, retired and reserves easily fulfilled personnel needs. A massive program of training new crews had been undertaken, and was already spewing large numbers of crew members and junior officers with basic training.
However, those people needed to be matched up with experienced officers and NCOs. And that had been the problem facing Fleet all along. In the past it had taken six to ten years to train a Fleet Aloft officer to command even a small ship. Ten or twelve years, to train officers to command large ships. Twelve to fifteen years to train junior admirals, and up to twenty years to train more senior admirals.
There was no longer time for that. There were plenty of senior officers like Trudy and Thor Swenson, who could handle their duties. But it was the ranks of lieutenant commander through vice admiral that most needed new blood. And the idea of the “natural leader” program was to throw situations at junior officers who showed innate ability, and let them seek their own level.
Hannah smiled. Well, Ernesto had been bumped up, and so had Leyten Huygeens. So had Donna. So had she, but she was quite sure they recognized that when it came to leadership, Hannah Sawyer was a complete bust. An operations officer; she was that. A fine, wonderful, operations officer. A marvelous intelligence officer, as well. Smart as a whip! Just not a natural leader!
