Chapter 36: Homecoming Plans

Admiral Grayson was not pleased with the direction that the conference at Truman had taken. There was too much effort directed at who was to blame and what they should have done from Monday morning quarterbacks.

He did manage some productive meetings with Admiral Gunn and his staff, though. The upshot was a list of ships that would be made available for the exercise that included two carrier groups and a squadron of corvettes.

Commodore Murphy had demonstrated what twelve Castle-class corvettes could accomplish when acting as a unit. The small vessels were no longer considered useless against Sa'arm warships. McClusky was considering a variant of Murphy's tactics for the carrier's attack craft. After reviewing the results of his squadron's engagements at Tulakat she approached Grayson.

"Admiral, I would like to interview pilots who are familiar with the capabilities of the attack craft. Are there any in the vicinity?"

"What are you thinking?"

"Notice how Murphy's squadron used missiles against the Sa'arm ships. They didn't use them as weapons; they used them as a smoke screen to get their shipboard weapons into range without taking effective fire from the Sa'arm ships. I believe a flight of A-28 Hornets could do the same thing with even less risk."

"We can always ask," Grayson replied with a smile.

"By the way, Commander. Thank you for not indulging in your legendary off-duty activities during this trip."

"What makes you think I didn't?" McClusky responded with a mischievous smile. "I get away with things because I'm discreet. There was a self-indulgent supply sergeant who had picked two male concubines during her extraction. She wasn't selfish, though, and could be talked into sharing her specialists."

"Specialists?"

"Yes. They were a skilled team. The backdoor man—"

Grayson held up a hand to stop her. "That's more information than I needed. Thank you very much."

McClusky chuckled at Grayson's sour expression. "Don't knock it..." She burst out laughing when his sour expression turned to glaring distress.

She spent most of the return trip working on attack tactics based on the performance parameters she had received from pilots who had rotated to Truman for R&R. The rest of the staff worked on how to get the carriers into striking range with minimum risk. The corvettes would be a combination of a wild card and an ace in the hole.

Lesa and Jake were presiding over the typical chaos at supper. With fourteen companions and thirty-one dependents it was almost certain that meals were done in shifts even in their roomy double-pod residence. Getting that much hot food out of the replicator would be a challenge for most residential pods, but they had given up a bit of space in order to get a residential replicator with a bit more horsepower. The breakfast nook and dining room looked more like mess halls on an Aurora-class starship than that of a residential facility.

Sara, Takashi, Roberta, Rhonda's twins, and Donna's oldest had all moved out. While Lesa and Jake were entitled to keep the four girls who didn't get a CAP score that qualified them as sponsors, none of the males in the group could get past the concept of them being children. Takashi was eager to do the deed for all who allowed it. They need not ask, just refrain from discouraging his advances. Takashi had moved out with the twins shortly after the girls turned fourteen.

None of the girls wanted to remain virgin and wait to be tested again when they were fifteen. In fact, the twins had jumped into Takashi's bed in the early morning hours on their birthday for special birthday gifts from the horny boy. The three of them were roused from bloody bed linen when they failed to show up for breakfast. Rhonda was furious with her kids until Lesa shyly explained that the girls had gotten her permission.

Like Bobby Wallace, Takashi Masanori (he had elected to use his birth name) decided to enter the Marines rather than continue his education. His parents were livid, but since he was considered an adult by the Confederacy there was nothing they could do. They were somewhat relieved that his marine training commander hadn't allowed him to drop out of high school. Ito and Reiko clung to the hope that he would come to his senses and enter the officer's training school before it was too late.

There was a quiet moment as the crowd dispersed to various early evening activities leaving only a few of the younger adults at the table with the older crowd to indulge in coffee and cakes. The adults were welcoming Lesa home from her long mission aboard William Penn. She was surprised to have survived the excitement of the children when they discovered that she was at home shortly after they themselves got home from school.

"How are things at work?" Leslie broke the short silence with a question directed at Jake.

"It's coming along, but slowly." Jake replied. "About every tenth jump is totally wild and puts the missile completely out of range of the intended target. It's baffling. The random jump goes way beyond what the fuel should have allowed. The missiles wouldn't have enough fuel to get back on target even if their tanks were full. The only useful purpose it can serve from its outlying position is to hang out where it is and hope that a target wanders into range."

"That doesn't sound too bad, except the intended target gets away," Leslie noted.

"Can't you send two or three missiles after the same target?" Traci asked somewhat hesitantly. Technical talk wasn't her forte.

Jake nodded, "Yes, but the rest of the missiles that are attacking the same target would be confused or wasted if a previous missile destroys the target. They would continue their attack if there was enough of the target left to be recognized, or would be left to self-destruct when they couldn't find their target."

"Are the missiles smart enough to have a second or third choice?" Traci asked innocently.

Jake sat back and smiled at Traci, "Yes, they can be programmed with alternate targets or select the nearest target if their primary target isn't recognized or has already been neutralized. Good thinking, Traci! These are very good questions. The tricky part is programming in parameters to recognize when a Sa'arm ship has been neutralized."

The young mother beamed for being praised about something other than her sexual skills, which were somewhat hampered by her nursing baby. She had slipped up and gotten pregnant before the pickup that had hooked her up with Jake. She had been worried that no one would want a girl who was stupid enough to get pregnant by some loser at a party she didn't even remember leaving. Jake had been sweet from the moment they met and didn't seem to be concerned that she was carrying someone else's baby.

Jake had paced the med-bay floor like a typical father when Traci delivered her daughter even though he was neither the father nor her official sponsor. But from the way he and Lesa shared a residence one would be hard pressed to identify sponsor from concubine, much less who was the property of whom.

Jake turned to Lesa, "How about your projects, Lesa? Have you solved the puzzle of quick entry and exit of divers and vehicles?"

"Not entirely," Lesa responded somewhat distractedly. "I'm thinking we can do something on the order of the Sa'arm staging areas. You know, have long corridors with airlocks that allow scores of vehicles to be staged and exit as a group."

Saika frowned and asked, "Why not attach the vehicles to the underwater complex with gangways like the ones that are attached to docked ships? That way people and equipment can move through the gangway and the vehicles stay in the water ready to go."

Lesa blinked, "Of course! The assault craft don't have to be inside the station to be armed, fueled, and loaded. That can be done with gangways and umbilical connections! Excuse me, everyone." Lesa bounded out of the dining room and headed for her study.

Saika cocked her head in confusion, and Leslie quipped, "Would anyone else care for a helping of epiphany? There's plenty to go around."

Lesa made a call to Tuan before going to bed and asked, "I hate to bother you guys this late, but Saika just pointed out to me that the assault craft don't have to be inside the complex. They can be docked to it. The replicators building them would still do better if everything was dry, but a simple airlock or wet room can give them access to the open ocean as they roll out of the replicator. They would only need to be dry-docked for overhauls and some repairs. Robotic arms can attach the external ordinance."

Lesa was very excited the next morning when Margret completed the drawings while she and Tuan kibitzed. The results were a modest manufacturing facility that could function at depths down to 500 meters, mining replicators that could operate down to 3,000 meters, and reinforced habitats that could also withstand water pressure at 3,000 meters. However, any habitats located more than seventy meters below the surface would require specialized equipment for anyone to work outside.

Tuan cautioned, "Amphibious assault craft were tested on Tulak. The craft were not attacked by the Sa'arm until they were airborne. Steps will be needed to ensure that the Sa'arm never suspect us of having underwater facilities."

Tuan was getting a bit worked up with all the hugs and jumping up and down Lesa was doing in her thin dress. It was clear that she wasn't wearing any support garments beneath the clingy material.

She managed to garner his wandering attention when she suddenly came out with, "You know ... I have the mineral rights to several hundred square miles of ocean southwest of the Azores. My late husband was in a partnership that was about to launch an underwater mining operation, but the project was abandoned when he and his partners died. The project was abandoned, but the rights and leases passed to the partners' widows."

Tuan was confused and remarked, "That's a bit of a left turn."

"Sorry," Lesa said with a nostalgic smile, "If we can't locate underwater deposits for testing our equipment on the volcanic side of the rift here, then I know exactly where accessible deposits of gold, silver, chromium, copper and iron can be found in the Atlantic Ocean on Earth."

Tuan broke into a smile, "If we keep everything underwater, then who's to know we're even there? We might attract the attention of anti-submarine sensors, but I doubt they'll know that we're using Darjee technology unless they send down an ROV to take pictures."

"I have the mining rights." Lesa noted, "We can always have some surface ships and anchored platforms hanging about. We can claim that proprietary equipment is being used and no trespassing is tolerated.

"With my father's contacts and the resources I left on Earth I'm sure I can get enough typical exploration equipment to cover the nature of the operation. I'll bet some of the Texans can put us in contact with someone who leases offshore drilling platforms. One or two of those could easily be anchored in the relative shallows." Lesa gave Tuan and Margret a twisted smile. "I may be returning to Earth sooner than Commander McGregor expected."

"Let's get some industrial replicators delivered to the deepwater cove supplying the northern pumping station and start building an underwater habitat along the fault off the coast," Tuan suggested. "With all the mineral deposits we found in the mountains to the north it shouldn't take long to turn something up along the underwater fault."

"Why along the fault?" Margret asked.

Tuan ceded the floor to Lesa, "The heat from the molten core of a planet tends to concentrate mineral deposits by leaching them from various sources with superheated water and depositing them in places where the water cools below the saturation point of the dissolved minerals."

Tuan sat through the explanation with a puzzled expression. When Lesa finished he said, "Wait a minute! Won't a drilling platform or anchored ships attract Sa'arm attention?"

"What?" Lesa responded with a giggle. "Do you think it'll be the only platform in the Atlantic? How many ships do you think are bobbing about on that pond night and day? It won't take the Sa'arm very long to realize that their biggest pests are comfortable in the water."

Tuan was seeing even less of Kim now that she was attending the academy than when she was deployed as a midshipman. His house was far from empty, but seemed somehow quieter without her sharp wit and pained expressions. He was very concerned that she might change from pursuing a position in the Fleet Auxiliary and opt for a combat assignment in the Confederacy Navy like her new best friend Sara Crews.

"Doesn't it concern you that Sara wants to mix it up with the Sa'arm from the bridge of a warship?" Tuan asked Lesa when they were having a quiet lunch in a garden park near the CIC complex.

"I don't worry about her getting into anything she can't get out of if she's on her own. It's some dipshit admiral bucking for glory that might get her killed," Lesa responded. "But, I have enough faith in her genes that she won't blindly do as she's told when something serious is at stake. I worry more about her being court-martialed than killed by the Sa'arm."

Tuan smiled knowingly and nodded, "I think I know why our children have become such good friends. If you're not concerned about your daughter, then what has you so down lately?"