Chapter 80: Command Meetings

Blaine just shook his head as we stepped into the first airlock chamber. We said nothing as the series of doors opened and closed allowing us to step through. When we finally emerged Blaine immediately raced off for the teleport pad.

I stood waiting for the airlock door to close. “AI, Corsica is ready for repair. Am I correct that I have to be the first one to board when leaves are over?”

“Correct,” the AI said.

“Just confirming,” I said. I turned to follow the route Blaine had taken.

I was just arriving at the teleportal when Captain Prescott limped up. He looked exhausted but he managed to nod as he reached the teleport pad.

“It’s good to see someone who isn’t a member of my crew,” he said.

“How bad is it for your crew?” I asked.

“I’ve spent far too many hours reviewing the sensor records. We did everything correct based on what we could see,” Captain Prescott said with a sigh.

I nodded. “We nearly ran into a similar trap. I told you about that.”

“You didn’t get as deep,” Captain Prescott said. “Or at least it sounded like you avoided getting in too deep like we did. That was the one problem. We assumed that we saw everything.”

“I’m trying to remember where I heard it. Someone talking about battle said there is no such thing as a true surprise attack. You just have a case where one side failed to recognize what was in front of them. No, that’s not exactly right, but it’s close,” I said.

“So you are saying that surprise in a battle is based on the surprised commander failing to look deeply enough at what is happening,” Captain Prescott said. “That is definitely what happened to me.”

“You survived,” I said. “And that is what is important. You can take what you learned and make sure that you never make the same mistake. That will keep more people alive.”

I stepped over on the teleport pad. Captain Prescott jumped to join me.

The flash of light did not surprise me. I could see Captain Prescott frown as the door to the administration building in Beacon opened.

“What?” I asked as I stepped off the pad.

“I was wondering if Jen was going to be here. Ipanema’s communications were almost completely out by the time we pulled into the dock. I’m not sure my communication reached her,” Captain Prescott said.

“AI?” I called out. “Did Lieutenant Prescott’s concubine Jen receive his summons?”

“She is not here,” the AI replied.

“Can you connect Captain Prescott to his pod? And is Colonel Stiles here?” I asked.

“He’s waiting in the conference room,” the AI said.

“Conference room?” I asked.

“Enter the main room. The door is labeled,” the AI said.

I followed the direction as Captain Prescott paused. I could hear him whispering urgently. I tried to ignore that as I headed into the main room.

The door was obvious. It helped that Ashley was standing in the doorway, leaning on the door jamb. “Hey sailor, need a good time?”

“Ashley,” I muttered. “You won’t help me with Colonel Stiles.” I strode across the room and approached her.

Ashley just pointed into the room. She then turned and ducked inside just before I reached her.

I was about to mutter something when I heard a squeal from inside. It sounded like a teenage girl had just received a welcome surprise. I paused for a moment.

“Stevie!” a soprano voice ran out. “You didn’t have to do that!”

I stepped inside to see a brunette haired girl with a pixie haircut sitting on Colonel Stiles lap. She had her right arm around him as her left hand held onto a bracelet made from some glittering crystals.

“Nice gift,” I said as I move to sit down. Ashley and Constance rushed over as soon as I sat down. Constance claimed my lap as Ashley stood behind me and massaged my shoulders.

“Ivy deserves it,” Colonel Stiles said. “Without her and my other concubines, I think the pressure of dealing with this disaster would have destroyed me.”

“How is it a disaster?” I asked. “Both ships are repairable.”

Colonel Stiles looked at me. “Seven dead crew on Ipanema. Worse, we now have two systems that have been taken over by the Sa’arm.”

I nodded. “I will agree with you that the Sa’arm have definitely started exploiting the system where Corsica got smacked around. We can visit again, but I’d advise that no ship enter the asteroid belt or approach the second planet. At least not unless we send a fleet.”

“How bad was it?” Colonel Stiles asked.

Captain Prescott stumbled in as I was composing my answer. He claimed the chair closest to the door. “Jen will be here shortly,” he said as he slumped into the chair.

I could see Colonel Stiles frown. Immediately I sat up, nearly causing Constance to fall on the floor. “Colonel, let him rest for a moment. He’s just had to command a broken ship into the repair dock while listening to the suffering of his surviving crew. Honestly, we probably should have allowed him to rest.”

“We don’t have time,” Colonel Stiles complained. “The Sa’arm could be on their way here right now.”

“Maybe a few scouts, but nothing big,” I said. “And this system doesn’t have the kind of asteroid belts they’d need to sneak up on our ships. If we had to Corsica can fight.”

“With your crew of amateurs?” Colonel Stiles complained.

“We destroyed a Sa’arm ship. It might have been some kind of ore collector, but it possessed weapons,” I said.

“It missed with every shot but one,” Colonel Stiles said. “I have already started reviewing the records you provided. The shooting it did was not aimed at Corsica.”

“Every shot it took destroyed an asteroid, or at least broke it up to the point that it was useless as cover. They knew we were in the field and were working to make it impossible for us to escape,” I said. “Combat in space is nothing like combat in a tank. A tank can usually take a few hits. Corsica won’t survive a direct hit from a powerful weapon.”

“It has armor,” Colonel Stiles pointed out.

“So does a submarine, but how many times does a submarine survive taking a hit? Remember that any hole in the hull will allow air to escape. Without air, we die,” I said.

“You still beat a weak opponent,” Colonel Stiles said firmly.

“Not weak,” Captain Prescott said softly. “The Sa’arm definitely aren’t weak. I wasn’t very impressed with their maneuvering in space, but the ships Ipanema fought seemed to never miss until we had taken out two of the three ships attacking us. It was like they knew where we would be.”

“Knew?” Colonel Stiles asked.

“Colonel Stiles, you were a trainer for tank combat correct?” I asked.

“Yes,” he said as he turned to look at me. “What does that have to do with the answer I just received?”

“Now, do you train your tank gunners to be able to hit a moving target while the tank they are in is moving at sixty miles per hour?” I asked.

“It’s a requirement. Of course we have computers that assist in the targeting,” Colonel Stiles said.

“What is the longest range you use in the training?” I asked.

“Two miles or so,” Colonel Stiles said. “The guns can hit at a longer range, but there are so many variables that accuracy suffers. Why?”

“Just seeing what your reference points are. You are probably still using them when we talk. The problem is that combat in space is so different that you don’t realize just how wrong your assumptions are,” I said.

“Wrong? Did you just tell a superior officer he is wrong?” Colonel Stiles said. His lips compressed to a thin line as the man glared at me.

“In this case, I feel it is my duty to point out the flaws in your logic,” I said. “First, you are assuming that the speed and distance of our combats is something you can understand. But, the only time a space ship travels as slow as a tank is when we are about to dock. Most of the time we are moving faster than any jet fighter from Earth. Then, the distances we fight at.”

“A few miles,” Colonel Stiles said abruptly.

“Try a few thousand miles,” I said. “Corsica mounts railguns that accelerate a ball of solid carbon many times faster than any bullet. We can accurately hit targets out to forty thousand miles or more because it takes barely a second for the shot to travel that far. The Sa’arm weapons moved even faster.”

“Faster?” Colonel Stiles said.

“Estimates of the speed of the energy bundles used as weapons by ships in both recorded combats indicate that the energy packets were moving at more than seventy percent of the speed of light,” the AI said.

“Which is?” Colonel Stiles asked. He sounded surprised and confused.

“Over one hundred ten thousand miles per second,” Captain Prescott said. “You barely realize they’ve fired and then the packet arrives.”

“How can you hit anything?” Colonel Stiles asked.

“The computer is very good at providing aiming assistance,” I said. “And while I can’t talk about Ipanema’s crew, Corsica’s weapons officer was a crack shot with a hunting rifle back on Earth. She’s proved to be amazing at knowing when to pull the trigger.”

“She?” Captain Prescott said. “I knew you had women on your crew. How many do you have?”

“Six after I transferred two crew off Corsica while visiting Yularaat,” I said. “My replacements in that exchange was a former Naval academy midshipwoman who was struggling to adjust to the realities of space combat and her partner.”

“Partner? As in?” Captain Prescott said.

“They have separate homes, but they definitely share their male concubines at times,” I said. “However, that hasn’t affected their performance. They were a solid team during the battle.”

Captain Prescott nodded. “I only have the one woman. You know her and I told you, she was one of the bright spots during the battle.”