Stellar Fox (Castle Federation Book 2) (34 page)

But hundreds remained. At this range, their initial velocity provided most of their kinetic energy – and their antimatter warheads the vast majority of their impact.

The final explosion was over half a
teraton
… and once that terrible and tremendous star faded, it left nothing behind of the
Saint Augustine
.

“Captain Roberts, this is Vice Commodore Stanford,” he said calmly, raising
Avalon
on the Q-Com. “We are adjusting course to rendezvous.” He checked their relative velocity and winced. “It’s… going to take a bit.”

“We copy, CAG,” Roberts replied. “We are vectoring to enable rendezvous. I make thirty-seven minutes to matched velocity.”

Michael checked. It would still take time to bring the two groups of ships together safely once they’d matched velocities, but that would get them close enough to help defend the carrier.

“We lost six starfighters,” he said quietly. “I have three pods on my scope, my Wing Commanders have already detailed retrieval teams.”

“Understood, Vice Commodore.”

“What about that last battleship, Captain?” Michael finally asked. The
Saint Anthony
was still heading for
Avalon
, though the vector the carrier was taking to rendezvous with the starfighters was helping keep her away. Unless the Terran ship actually turned away, though, she’d be able to bring
Avalon
to range before the starfighters would be in a position to assist.

“I’ll let you know,” Roberts replied. “It appears I have a call to make.”

Dropping the channel to Stanford, Kyle took a moment to breathe a sigh of relief. Wong had been overly optimistic in his assessment. Not only were all of their sensors gone, but
all
of the missile launcher hatches were welded shut, along with half of the emitters for the main guns.

All easy enough to repair out of shipboard resources –
Avalon
could fix an astonishingly large amount of damage to herself given time – but not in the time they had. With no more starfighters aboard, and Stanford on a vector off to the gods’ back acre,
Saint Anthony
was going to add a carrier to its kill sheet very quickly.

He smoothed his features, winked at the screen where Solace and the Secondary Control crew were watching, and activated the recorder in his chair.

“Commodore Tecumseh,” he greeted the other man calmly. “I have completed my mission in Barsoom, but I see your vessel is on a course towards mine. Understand that I did not
choose
to engage
Saint Augustine
, but your Captain Antioch left me no choice.

“If you continue on this course, Commodore, remember that I retain a full Wing of
Falcon
starfighters aboard. Starfighters that have just thoroughly demonstrated their ability against a
Saint
-class battleship.

“I came here to avenge Kematian’s dead. That is done. I have already shed more blood than I desired. Do not make me add yours to the total.

“For the honor of both our navy’s and the safety of both our crews, I offer you this one last chance. Break off, Commodore Tecumseh. Break off, and I will leave the Barsoom system with no further conflict. You have my word as an officer of the Castle Federation Space Navy, and as a fellow starship captain.”

He ended the message and hit transmit.

“Kalers,” he opened a channel to his Acting Deck Chief. “I want you to start running power to the launch tubes and moving ships into them.”

“Sir, we don’t have any ships
left
.”

“Stick shuttles in them,” Kyle ordered. “No crews, just make it damn clear to, say, a close-range Q-probe that we are preparing to launch ships. They won’t be able to tell
what
we’re loading unless the probe is inside the damn hangar.”

The Deck Chief looked at him like he was crazy, then shrugged.

“This is why you’re the Captain, Captain,” she said, then cut the channel.

“Do you think he’ll buy it?” Solace asked very softly on an implant-only channel no one else could hear.

“Thirty-seventy,” he admitted. “And only that high because the Commodore didn’t want to fight in the first place.”

They waited. The distance between the two ships was well over a light minute again, even if there was no way
Avalon
could avoid engagement.

“Sir, Q-probes report
Saint Anthony
is breaking off her attack run,” Anderson reported loudly.

Kyle had to check for himself. His Tactical Officer was right – the battleship had reversed her course, once again settling for a vector that would keep her between
Avalon
and the planet with its massive, expensive, terraforming machines.

He breathed a huge, obvious, sigh of relief – and then watched the bridge crew around him disintegrate into wild cheering.

“Message inbound from Tecumseh, sir!” Carter announced.

The now-familiar Amerindian features of the Terran Commodore appeared on the screen.

“I suspect, Captain Roberts, that a single Wing of your starfighters is no match for a fully prepared battleship,” Tecumseh said bluntly. “But you are correct in that Captain Richardson was a stain upon the honor of the Commonwealth. A stain I could not have removed without your aid.

“I will have my vengeance for Captain Antioch, Roberts, have no illusions about that,” the Commodore continued. “But today… today the Commonwealth owes you a debt of honor. Leave this system, Captain Roberts. Today and today only, I will grant you that respect.”

Kyle smiled. He’d done it. Somehow, against all odds, he’d done it.

Kyle made certain to be on the bridge when
Avalon
returned to the Alizon system. The Q-Com messages assuring him that the system was safe and that Battle Group Seventeen had arrived in his absence to secure the world were no substitute for seeing the sensor returns with his own eyes.

The three heavy capital ships orbiting above the liberated world were a welcome sight, a reassurance that despite having been lied to and led astray, the world he’d abandoned was safe.

“Scans confirm we have Battle Group Seventeen on our scopes,” Commander Anderson reported. “I am reading IFFs for
Gravitas
,
Cameroon
and
Zheng He
. Q-Com arrival alert has been transmitted.”

“Thank you, Commander,” Kyle told him, watching the three ships. In the back of his head, he tracked the automated interactions between his ship and the rest of the battle group. Data propagated around the ships as they began to feed their sensor data to
Avalon
, and notes flowed through his mind on each ship.

Including the fact that Battle Group Seventeen now had a new commanding officer –
Rear Admiral
Miriam Alstairs, formerly
Cameroon’s
Captain.

“Sir, incoming Q-Com transmission from the Rear Admiral,” Kyle was informed.

“I’ll take it in my office,” he replied.

He took a moment to settle his mind after entering his office – he might have destroyed two battleships in exchange for the loss of six starfighters and eleven lives – two of the flight crew whose pods had successfully ejected had still died of injuries before rescue – but he’d also been duped into disobeying his orders and leaving Alizon effectively undefended.

“Captain Roberts,” Miriam Alstairs greeted him once he opened the channel. “It’s good to see you return – and once again victorious where many would have failed. Of course, this time, also in disobedience to your orders.”

Kyle bowed his head.

“I was too… credulous, Admiral,” he said quietly. “That Admiral Tobin cut us off from communication should have been a warning sign.”

“It should have,” Alstairs agreed. “And many will doubt the wisdom of continuing on after learning of Dimitri’s treachery. Victory will cover some of those sins, Captain, but not all.”

“I understand, ma’am.”

“That said, I want you to realize that I am not moving the flag to
Cameroon
to punish you or show a lack of confidence,” she continued. “Quite the opposite. You are aware, I presume, that Admiral Tobin flew his flag from
Avalon
so as to keep an eye on his most inexperienced Captain?

“I don’t think that will be necessary for me.”

“I understand, ma’am,” Kyle repeated. “Thank you for explaining.”

“Oh, I’m not done with you yet, Captain,” Alstairs said with a grin that could only be called mischievous. “The Joint Chiefs have informed that it would be weeks before they could get a new Commanding Officer for
Cameroon
out here, so I have a question for you.

“I’ve reviewed the assessments of Senior Fleet Commander Solace by her previous Captains. I suspect at least one is, well, bullshit. Traditionally you would not provide a review for three months, but I’m afraid I must ask your assessment of your Executive Officer.”

“Ma’am, I am tempted to lie to you because I would vastly prefer to keep Commander Solace as my XO,” he replied. “I suspect that in itself is enough, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she confirmed. The newly minted Rear Admiral sighed.

“I have Military Police standing by to remove Vice Admiral Tobin and your other prisoners from
Avalon
,” Alstairs told him. “We have been provided basing facilities by the Alizoni, including a decent sized prison. I’m sure you want them off your ship as much as I do.”

“Agreed, Admiral,” Kyle admitted. “Tobin’s actions I can understand and accept, even as they condemn him. The mutiny, though…”

“I’ve seen the unedited report,” the Rear Admiral said. “I won’t lie – that someone in the Castle Federation would stoop so low terrifies me, Kyle. Watch your back.”

“I will, ma’am.”

“Then I will see you when you make orbit. Travel safely, Captain Roberts.”

“Enter,” Kyle instructed as the chime on his door sounded.

A moment later, Senior Fleet Commander – soon to be
Captain
– Mira Solace stepped in. She looked… hesitant. It wasn’t an attitude he was used to seeing on her.

“I just received the notification from JD-Personnel, Captain,” she said quietly. “I’m being promoted and transferred to command
Cameroon
.”

The words came out in a rush, and Kyle gave her his brightest smile. He was disappointed to lose her, but she deserved the command – deserved it more than he had when he was given
Avalon
.

“Congratulations,” he told her. “I’ve served aboard
Last Stands
. They’re good ships, and I’ve only heard the best from
Cameroon
. And you’ll get Battle Group Seventeen’s tradition of the most junior Captain carrying the flag.”

“It’s a tradition now, is it?” she asked.

“Anything done twice in the military, Commander,” Kyle reminded her.

“Sir – Kyle… I have an odd request,” Solace said slowly.

“At this point, Mira, I’ve lost track of what I owe you,” he told her. “We made a damn good team, and I’m sorry to see you go. You deserve it.”

“My promotion and transfer officially take effect at noon tomorrow,” she replied. “I… would like to be formally removed from my duties aboard
Avalon
immediately. It’s… a personal matter.”

Kyle considered. Solace was being oddly non-committal, looking down at her hands on the desk. It was an odd request, though hardly a difficult one. For sixteen hours or so, Solace would be ‘between assignments on foreign post’ and technically receive approximately ten percent less salary.

“You’re not on shift before the transfer,” he pointed out. “I can’t see an issue, Mira.” With a thought and a command in the system, the change was registered.

“You are officially no longer the Executive Officer of
Avalon
,” he agreed. “Recorded and time stamped.”

“Thank you, Kyle,” Mira told him, and her eyes came up to meet his gaze. Something in them made him suddenly
very
aware he was still sleeping in his office and that the fold-out bed was in the corner.

“May I ask why?” he managed to choke out, but she was already on her feet and coming around the desk.

“Because as long as you were in my chain of command, Kyle, I couldn’t do
this
.”

The next thing he knew, she was kissing him. And since he
wasn’t
in her chain of command anymore, he failed to come up with any objection before he stopped caring.

Fleet Admiral James Calvin Walkingstick, Marshal of the Rimward Marches, liberator of New Dundee, and sworn servant of the Congress of the Terran Commonwealth, watched Commodore James Tecumseh enter his office with more patience than he suspected the officer expected.

“Have a seat, James,” he ordered. “I’m not going to pretend this will be an easy meeting.”

“Sir.”

“Commodore, I will be blunt. You stood by and watched two Commonwealth battleships be destroyed, and then allowed their killer to escape without even attempting to pursue.

“You have not even attempted to justify this decision with questions of the balance of force, or even pretended this Captain Roberts’ available starfighters were a major threat to your vessel.

“You have, in fact, justified this decision entirely in the context of the stain on the honor of the Commonwealth represented by Captain Richardson.

“Is my summary correct, Commodore?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” Tecumseh confirmed flatly.

“You do understand, Commodore, that permitting the destruction of
Saint Augustine
was very different than permitting the destruction of
Triumphant
?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And you offer no further excuse?”

“It was already done, sir,” Tecumseh said calmly. “Engaging
Avalon
would not have brought back the dead. And Captain Richardson’s dishonor required… some repayment beyond his death.”

“Suffice to say, Commodore, that the Commonwealth Navy does not agree with your assessment,” Walkingstick told him bluntly. “You are relieved of command of
Saint Anthony
. You will report aboard Logistics Station Niagara Seven there to take up a yet-to-be-determined role in the Rimward Marches Logistics Command. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Tecumseh replied crisply. He unwound half a twist. “Thank you, sir.”

Walkingstick’s lips quirked in what those very close to him would recognize as an honest smile. Tecumseh recognized that he could have been cashiered for his actions, but so long as Walkingstick
did
punish him, the Marshal could choose the Commodore’s punishment.

“Dismissed, Commodore.”

Tecumseh stood and Walkingstick could
see
the defeat in the man’s stiff, Academy-perfect, posture. He made it six steps towards the door before Walkingstick hit a button on his desk.

“Commodore,” he said calmly, his voice less harsh than before. Tecumseh paused, but did not turn around.

“Everything I have said is for the record and for the discipline of the Terran Commonwealth Navy,” the Marshal of the Rimward Marches said very quietly. “Off the record, I am not certain I would have done differently.

“I know officers of your type, Commodore. Unwilling to bend. Determined to honor the ideals of Commonwealth above even the goal of Unity.

“You’re goddamn pains in the ass,” the man in charge of conquering the Alliance of Free Stars told the younger officer. “You’re goddamn pains in the ass,” he repeated, “and you represent the true heart and soul of this Navy.

“You
will
command again, Commodore Tecumseh. You have my word on that.”