Scout Force (38 page)

      
After all spirals were done the probe was retrieved and stored away.
 
The sensor crew correlated all the data and Chief B displayed the results in the small holographic viewer in the ready room.

      
Chief B turned down the lights to start the briefing.
 
“I’m going to run through the different spectral bands.
 
First is the visible band.
 
As you can see, the Vigilant has excellent stealth qualities in the visible wavelength.
 
We look like any other black spot in space.
 
As the probe gets closer, you can resolve the outline of the ship, but not pick out any details.
 
As we move into the Ultraviolet bands, we are almost invisible.
 
In the near IR bands we are equally nondescript.
 
Once we move into the far IR, we pick up a small IR signature from the engine exhaust, but only at very close range.
 
If we are greater than 8,000 kilometers away, we are virtually invisible.
 
When we move into the radio and radar bands, we emit no signature whatsoever.
 
We are gravimetrically and magnetically neutral.”

      
Chief B fiddled with the controls.
 
“It is not until we start looking at the exhaust plume that we see any signature at all.”

      
The exhaust plume shone in the holographic field like the tail of a comet.

      
“The exhaust plume of our sub-FTL engine contains ionized particles that trail out behind us like the contrail of an atmospheric flyer.
 
This is what I believe the K’Rang torpedo was homing in on.
 
The sweeping, back and forth movement that it was making was the probe turning back and forth through our exhaust plume.
 
If it had kept going, it would have flown right up our engine exhaust cones.”

      
The captain folded his hands under his chin, pondered for a moment, and said, “Chief Miller, is there anything we can do to alter our exhaust to make it harder for these things to lock onto us?”

      
“Well, sir, I’ll need a few days to think about how to do it, but if we could inject something into our exhaust to de-ionize the particles it should throw their sniffer off.
 
I don’t know if we would want to do it all the time or only when we are being sneaky.”

      
“Chief, think about this and give me some recommendations before we turn back to Antares.”

      
“Aye aye, sir.”

      
“Chief B, thank you for your analysis.
 
Don’t change the probe back just yet.
 
I’d like to use it to test some of Chief Miller’s ideas.
 
See if you can program it to home in on our exhaust plume.
 
That’s all, everyone.
 
Thank you.
 
Exec, stick around.”

      
The others filed out, leaving the captain and Kelly alone.
 
“We’ve got about four days left on this patrol.
 
Work with Chief Miller and Chief B to see what we can come up with to scramble this exhaust homing torpedo.
 
I suspect that the torpedo had a bit more speed than it was displaying.
 
When we went under that lighter and went to power 3, it was gaining on us.
 
Fortunately, it locked onto and took the lighter out rather than us.
 
Review the sensor logs for that particular engagement and see if you can determine how fast that torpedo was going when it hit the lighter.
 
It might come in handy to know that.”

      
“We did very well.
 
The crew did a great job.
 
Our first real combat and not even a scratch.
 
You’ve done well, Kelly.
 
You have done a great job of making the crew into a cohesive unit.
 
I couldn’t have asked for a better exec.
 
I imagine you’ll do very well.
 
I can see you in your own command some day, in the not so distant future.”

      
“Thank you, sir.
 
I appreciate the compliment, but you’ve got a good crew and great chiefs.”

      
“Yeah, I know.
 
I’m recommending awards for you, the chiefs, and the crew for our combat action.
 
Of course, they won’t be as impressive as those from New Alexandria.”
 
The captain and Kelly both broke into loud laughter.

      
“Come on, Exec, let’s get back to patrolling.
 
The K’Rang may come around to see where their friends went now that the cruisers have moved out.”

      
The rest of the patrol was uneventful.
 
There was no reaction from the K’Rang side of the frontier.
 
A review of the sensor logs from the battle showed that neither K’Rang ship sent a distress call.
 
The K’Rang may not know what happened to their expedition.

      
On the way back to Antares, the captain called Chiefs Miller and Blankenship into his ready room.
 
Kelly trailed them.

      
“So, Chiefs, what have you come up with to mask our exhaust?”

      
Chief Miller spoke first.
 
“Well, sir, Chief B and I have been working on this.
 
We’ve found a number of compounds that will de-ionize the exhaust.
 
The simplest and most effective method would be to increase the size, and therefore, the capacity of the existing electron guns.
 
The electrons will bond with the ions and eliminate their charge with no loss of thrust.
 
That leaves no charged exhaust trail to follow.”

      
The captain jumped up.
 
“Great, do we have what we need to do that on board?”

      
Chief Miller had an unhappy look on his face.
 
“No, sir, I’ve searched the whole ship and we don’t have the parts to do that.
 
It will have to be done in a shipyard.”

      
“Shoot, I’m disappointed in you, Chief.
 
I always thought you could make anything out of almost nothing.”
 
The captain smiled, belying his serious tone.

      
Chief Miller responded, “There’s no need to be insulting, sir.”

      
The whole room broke out in laughter and even Chief Miller cracked a smile.

Chapter Nine

      
The Vigilant was ordered to the Antares space dock.
 
The captain and Kelly were escorted again to Admiral Craddock’s space dock office.
 
Admiral Craddock was behind his desk waiting for them when they were brought in.
 

      
“Ed, Kelly, come on in and have a seat.
 
I was just reviewing the New Alexandrian Defense Forces’ report on your action there.
 
The Vigilant acquitted herself quite well.
 
Ed, I’m putting you in for the Space Medal for that action.
 
I have your recommendations for awards for the crew.
 
My staff will be reviewing those, but I don’t see any problem with any of your recommendations.”

      
“Now, tell me about this data device you found.”

      
LCDR Timmons pulled the data device, sealed in a plastic pouch, out of his pocket and set it on the admiral’s desk.

      
“That is an exact copy of the data we found on the K’Rang body on our last patrol.
 
It was obviously what the K’Rang landing party was trying to get.
 
Only our untimely appearance and destruction of their transport and escort caused them to try and depart before they accomplished their mission.
 
I think our techies need to review that data again.
 
If the K’Rang are willing to sacrifice a battalion of warriors and two ships, it must be worth more to them than our analysts have surmised.
 
I recommend, sir, that we let the Blakes look at this data and see what their assessment is.”

      
“That’s a good recommendation, Ed.
 
I think that’s just what I’ll do.
 
Andrew and Moira may be able to make sense of this.”

      
“I also appreciate your recommendation for the increased electron flow in the sub-FTL engine exhaust.
 
I’m glad you guys figured that out.
 
That could have been disastrous if we met the K’Rang in battle and they released a number of those into our fleet.
 
I’ll get the yard boys to come up with a fix for that based on your Chief’s recommendation.”

      
“You can return to your ship and move down to the Base spaceport.
 
We’re going to need the space here shortly.
 
Bolivar and her battle group will be here within the hour.”

      
Kelly perked up and said, “Admiral, would it be all right to stick around for an hour or so?
 
I’d like to see the Bolivar come into orbit.”

      
The admiral looked up with a smile on his face.
 
“Yes, I think it would be all right to hang out in orbit for an hour or so.
 
Just move off to make room for them, Ed.”

      
LCDR Timmons smiled, “Okay, Exec, we can wait a bit for you to see your old ship.”

      
Kelly and the captain saluted and took their leave.
 
They made their way back to the Vigilant.
 
On their way, they passed a Fighter Force Major General and his aide.
 
The aide was having trouble keeping up with the general and controlling a wayward baggage cart.
 
Several bags were dropped and retrieved as they made their way down the hall.
 
Kelly thought to himself that the general must be Bugarov’s replacement.
 
It brought a smile to his face.
 
As they passed around a corner he heard the general admonishing his aide, “There's docking arm 17, Jim.
 
We’re going to be late if you don’t get a move on.”

Timmons and Kelly boarded the Vigilant.
 
The captain ordered it to depart the dock and move off 50 km to make room for the battle group.

      
In less than 45 minutes, the frigates Tenacious and Transcendent came into view, dwarfed by the Bolivar immediately behind them.
 
Two flights of F-53 fighters flew to port and starboard of the Bolivar.
 
One flight flew directly ahead of the Bolivar.
 
She moved majestically in the velvety darkness, navigation and marker lights blazing.
 
The destroyers and cruisers, with their gun turrets fore and aft, trailed the Bolivar.
 
Support ships followed behind.
 
The battle group arrayed itself around the space dock, lining up on the external docking arms.
 
Within minutes all the ships had locked and sealed to the space dock.
 
Most ships the size of those in the battle group would fit inside the space dock only one at a time.
 
The Bolivar wouldn’t fit at all.
 
It would require a Fleet space dock on one of the major worlds for overhaul and refit.

      
Kelly felt nostalgic about the Bolivar, but realized he was happy right where he was.

      
Timmons came up beside him as he stared out the view screen at the battle group, “Do you wish you were still on her?”

      
“No, sir, I’m happy here, but she does look impressive, doesn’t she?”

      
“That she does.
 
It is time to head down to the Spaceport.
 
Didn’t you say your former flight lead was going to be stationed on Antares Base for a while?”

      
“Yes, sir, Angie Shappelle, she said she’d be around for a while.
 
I think her squadron will be taking part in my folks’ experiments.”

      
“You’ll have to introduce me to her when she gets in.”

      
The captain turned back to the bridge crew.
 
“Helm, take us down to the base spaceport, standard approach.”

      
The helmsman engaged the engines and the Vigilant descended to the surface, where she was directed into the same dry dock she had left a few weeks earlier.
 
A message came through telling the captain that the yard would be replacing the electron guns in the engines with larger ones to reduce the ion discharge.
 
It seemed their idea had borne fruit.

      
Life in the dry dock, while the engines were being upgraded, settled into a routine.
 
The chiefs ran their sections at fifty percent manning, allowing time off for their personnel.
 
Kelly finally got word that his old squadron would be landing at the spaceport.
 
He got time off to watch them come in.