Battlegroup (StarFight Series Book 2) (5 page)

Jefferson lifted a blond eyebrow, then grinned. “Super! And call me Joy.” She looked to Jacob. “Captain, that means we can leave for our wasp hunt within three hours. Uh, do I coordinate with chief O’Connor about his people coming over?”

Jacob gave a quick nod. “Do just that. Everything does not have to flow through me and the
Lepanto
. Joy, I trust your judgment. Give me a call when your ship is about to leave orbit. Beyond that, all other arrangements are up to you.”

The hard-charging young woman smiled big. “Outstanding! My XO has billets set up for chief O’Connor’s Marines. Uh, will the chief be coming along with his Darts and Marines?”

Daisy looked quickly to Jacob. When she had gone to wake him for the dinner conference, he had mentioned the long talk he’d had with Richard just before heading to his quarters. The Marine was someone she’d worked to know during the Alcubierre transit to Kepler 10. He had shared how he had three grown children back on Earth, one spunky granddaughter and then made clear his opinion that marriage did not work well with active duty soldiers subject to long overseas assignments. Her review of his personnel file had told her Richard was divorced for the last ten years. The divorce had happened right after he retired from leading a battalion of Marines. His new service with the Star Navy had begun five years ago, when the
Lepanto
had been commissioned for service as Earth’s fifth and last Battlestar. The man’s arrival on board as a senior chief warrant officer had seemed to her to be a demotion from his earlier rank of colonel. But now, after watching him for the last nine days, she understood the man hungered for real combat. The chance to lead his Marines into deadly action was clearly what the man was married to.

“He will,” Jacob said. “I do not like losing my combat advisor, but you and your ship will be back here well before the Earth ships arrive. If the wasps arrive sooner, you head back here ASAP.” Her boyfriend’s casual tone had gone almost formal as he dealt with a command issue. “Also, Richard insisted his presence was needed to provide you with advice on the deployment of his Darts, and I try to accept his suggestions. The man will be an asset to your ship and your crew.”

Jefferson’s amiable manner moved to formal mode. “Captain, understood. I look forward to welcoming chief O’Connor onto my Bridge and to adding his Marines to our ship’s complement. I’m sure our Weapons Deck people will enjoy their company.”

“No doubt,” Jacob said, moving his attention away from the destroyer captain and over to Daisy’s side of the table. But his gaze was not on her. “Lori, how goes the Science Deck work on creating a pheromone-transmitting radio?”

“Not well,” her Russian friend said. She laid down her chopsticks. “Lieutenant Branstead made it our top priority. But our linguists and digital signaling folks insist it is impossible to fabricate a pheromone signaler until we know what the receiving device is like. As in how the incoming radio signal is converted to produce various types of pheromones.”

Jacob frowned. “Well, can’t the signal folks figure out a way to emit a signal for sweat? Or for the human sex pheromones that folks always give off?”

The slim, black-haired woman sat back in her chair, her expression frustrated. “Human pheromones are not the same as insect pheromones. We know a lot about the pheromones emitted by wasps, butterflies, ants and other social insects. But the chemical signatures for each Earth insect pheromone are delicate and not very stable. How do we know that an Earth wasp pheromone that means ‘attack’ is the same as an alien wasp pheromone that says ‘attack’?”

Jacob pursed his lips. “So capturing a wasp signaling device is vital for us to communicate with the wasps in their own language?”

“Yes, it is vital.”

Jacob nodded, then looked over to Jefferson. “Joy, do whatever it takes to capture some wasp signaling devices. Video cartoons can express simple concepts. And Lieutenant Branstead is working on a new cartoon that proposes wasps and humans cooperate on something. But we need to be able to speak to the wasps in their own language.”

“Exactly so,” commented Mehta from the end of the table. “These aliens may not be used to encrypting radio and neutrino communications. If we can learn their way of talking, we could gain a tactical advantage. Might allow us to disrupt their battle formations.”

Daisy felt surprise at the comment from the captain of the
Salamis
. Then again, the man had run the Science Deck on his destroyer. Clearly he thought beyond basic science functions.

Jacob gave Mehta a thumbs-up. “Chatur, that is an excellent point. There
will
be another battle with the wasps. Otherwise, why did they leave a ship here to watch us?” Her boyfriend looked away and then around the table. “Everyone, think over the several space battles we’ve had. If any of you can come up with new tactics, new approaches, I am ready to listen. Also, all of you have more experience in space than I do. I’m willing to learn from each of you.” He turned to Sunderland. “Joan, your
Aldertag
fought well. I’m glad there was no punch through on your hull. Beyond that, you’ve served at each of our star colonies. That’s seven alien worlds, each with its own biosphere. I welcome any insights you may have.”

The older woman put down her can of beer. Her blue eyes looked to Daisy’s boss. “Jacob, the battle formations you adopted in Kepler 22 were very good, considering you faced an alien enemy whom no human has ever met in battle. I’m studying those vids and our records from the fight here. I’ll let you know if anything comes to me.”

The entry slidedoor opened and Kenji walked in with two large trays filled with barbecue ribs, sweet and sour pork, and veggie burgers for those who might prefer a meatless meal. His arrival broke the tense feel of the recent reports and discussions. She grabbed a bowl of rice and spooned in some sweet and sour pork cubes. Using her chopsticks, she remembered her Mom’s ease with the utensils and did her best to look at ease with them. Around her other people did the same, seeming to welcome the shift from the future attack by the
Philippine Sea
against the wasp ship that now approached the system’s Kuiper Belt of comets and ice rocks. She had no doubt Joy Jefferson would find the enemy ship. Nor any doubt that Richard and his Marines would board the wasp ship. She hoped the price for gaining alien pheromone signalers would not be more human lives. Her memory of historical war vids at the Stellar Academy and the recent violence as gas and proton laser beams crisscrossed through black space told her it was a vain hope. She took brief comfort in knowing how daring and fast-moving was the destroyer captained by Joy. The woman, like Jacob, seemed to have the gods of luck riding on her shoulders.

CHAPTER THREE

Richard O’Connor watched the front wallscreen of the
Philippine Sea
as the destroyer moved toward the comet that held the hidden shape of the wounded wasp ship. To his left sat Captain Joy Jefferson the straw blond, while beyond her sat a redheaded woman from Wales with the exotic name of Aelwen Rhydderch. She was the ship’s XO. Shortly after boarding with his Marines he had practiced saying the Welsh name. The young woman had been talkative, friendly and upbeat about her captain. His observation of Jefferson’s ship command during the space battles in Kepler 22 and Kepler 10 had led him to feel she might be a younger version of himself. Someone born to fight. Her quick pursuit after the wasp ship, and locating of it despite its hideaway inside the dirty white ice of a large comet, had impressed him.

“Tactical, what’s the range to the comet?” Jefferson said in a sharp soprano that echoed over his vacsuit’s comlink.

“Four thousand kilometers,” called the black man at the Bridge’s Tactical station.

“Engines, slow to a hundred klicks a minute,” she called to the Chinese woman who controlled the destroyer’s two fusion pulse thrusters.

“Slowing. Speed reduced,” responded the middle-aged woman who hailed from Taiwan.

“Weapons, launch two missiles. Put them on a parallel track with us,” Jefferson said quickly.

“Missiles launching,” called a black-haired woman from Louisiana in a musical voice that hinted at the woman’s Cajun ancestry.

Richard approved of Jefferson’s creation of a threat beyond the destroyer’s single proton laser at its nose, two CO
2
gas lasers at its tail and the plasma battery on the ship’s spine. At 300 meters long the
Philippine Sea
was a large ship. The 113 crew on it worked in three shifts and even then they all kept busy. Including his fifteen Marines, who volunteered to help in the ship’s Life Support and Weapons decks. Their work was on top of his boarding simulations. Despite the busy workloads, his people had complained at his order to put in eight hours of sleep when the ship was two-thirds of the way out to the system’s Kuiper Belt. He had followed his own order. They all needed to be fresh and alert for the upcoming boarding of the wasp ship. Assuming they could find a way to access it if it stayed inside the comet. Tactical’s sensors had shown the alien ship to be nested in a silo cut into the solid ice of the 300 kilometer wide comet. Spectroscope readings had documented the presence of metal at the top of the silo, presumably scopes and sensors that spoke to the aliens in their weird pheromone language. The ship’s Communications chief had suggested capturing the sensor devices and then leaving. Fortunately, Jefferson had insisted on a ship entry. She’d made the point Richard would have, that such sensors were likely hard-wired to the wasp ship, and might not be reliable pheromone signalers. Anyway, Jacob wanted live captives. That would only happen when his Marines boarded the ship.

“Navigation, how close is this comet to the exit point of the other wasp ships?” the captain said.

“It’s ten degrees radial off the exit point for the retreating wasp ships and two AU shy of the magnetosphere edge,” responded an Australian man whom Richard had shared a few beers with. Young Garret had done service in his nation’s special forces unit before attending the Stellar Academy and joining the destroyer’s crew three years ago. He hailed from Adelaide. His parents and sister were alive and well, Garret had said, leaving unsaid any indication of a girlfriend. Or a wife. Which was just fine with Richard.

Jefferson nodded slowly. “And how close is this site to the entry point of the wasp fleet when it arrived here?”

“Same data,” Garret said. “The original entry point is the same as the later exit point for the surviving wasp ships.”

“Good to know,” Jefferson said, her tone musing. “Communications, open a neutrino link to Captain Jacob Renselaer on the
Lepanto
.”

“Establishing encrypted neutrino comlink,” replied a young man who hailed from the Bronx section of New York City.

The front wallscreen’s image of the dirty white comet floating against black space and a sprinkle of white star dots now showed an inset square at the top of the wallscreen. Filling the square was Jacob and his XO Daisy. They were two youngsters Richard had come to both like and respect. The fleet’s captain lifted bushy black eyebrows.

“Captain Jefferson, how goes things?”

Joy recounted the data they had all just heard. “Captain Renselaer, this ship is at Alert Combat Ready. We will move to Alert Hostile Enemy shortly. We are ready to fight the wasp ship and make a forced boarding with our Darts and Marines. I will have our AI and Com chief maintain a continuous vidcom feed to you.”

“Just right,” answered the young man who had not hesitated to call Richard up to serve as his tactical officer. Jacob tapped his armrest. “The
Chesapeake
is undergoing repairs. It will be another few days before the
Lepanto
can move in for her own repairs. Stay safe.”

Jefferson smiled quickly. “Will do.” She looked up. “Chatterbox, maintain this neutrino comlink vid feed to the
Lepanto
. All the humans on this Bridge are shortly going to be very busy.”

“Accepted, Captain Jefferson,” said the ship’s AI in a tone that sounded briskly British. “How do you think these aliens procreate? They are different from you mammals.”

Richard winced. Now this ship’s AI was acting nearly as weird as the AI on the
Lepanto
. Was this an effect of long-term service in space? It couldn’t be. Both ships, and both AIs, had already spent years in space flying to other star systems. So maybe it reflected the imitation module in each AI that sought to match its voice and tone to the person who commanded its ship. Which gave him much to think about whenever he was having a few beers. He dismissed the thought as Jefferson turned to him.

“Chief O’Connor, do you have an opinion?”

“Hardly. I aim to kill the wasps, not fuck ‘em.”

Jefferson smiled. Laughter sounded from the five function post people and from the captain’s XO. Jefferson looked up to the ceiling. “Chatterbox, why don’t you ask that question of the aliens after we capture a few? Or watch their behavior. Maybe there will be both genders among the captives.”