Orion Fleet (Rebel Fleet Series Book 2) Read online

  There were arguments for both points of view, and believe me, those arguments had recently been made by the existing U. S. services in a ferocious manner. Both the Air Force and the Navy insisted they should get a slice of the budget pie.

  In the past, the Air Force had won this argument in the United States. After all, flying off the surface of the Earth inherently looked more like a job for them. NASA astronauts were often Air Force people—but not always.

  This new vessel, however, due mostly to its size and the nature of longer missions in space, had “Navy” stamped all over it.

  The ship had a bridge, after all. Not a cockpit. Any large spaceship looked very much like a submarine inside. The ship had to be self-contained, and air-tight. It had to suffer extremes of pressure and temperature. Usually, aircraft were too delicate for that sort of abuse.

  What’s more, although the ship would have to navigate in three dimensions, she wasn’t built to go into and out of atmospheres. Once she was launched, she would spend eternity in space, moving from orbit to orbit—at least until she was destroyed. That too suggested associations with sea-going ships.

  You would think this sort of argument would be settled in a logical fashion—but then you probably haven’t been involved in inter-departmental politics.

  Budgets were the key. If these new ships were declared part of the Air Force, big money would flow there. If they were Naval ships, the sky was the limit. The loser would see a great drop in income as the space forces became the dominant future in the defense of Earth.

  There were international interests too, lots of them. By this time, other nations knew we were up to something. They were demanding to get in on the deal.

  As a result, I found myself at a meeting involving General Vega, Commander Jones, and a few other high-ranking brass. None of them seemed to like each other much.

  Doctor Abrams was there as well, looking annoyed. For once, I sympathized with his plight.

  “There’s no easy way to say this,” Jones said to the generals. “The Navy is taking over. This ship is clearly a ‘ship’ not a plane.”

  “No-go,” General Vega responded, shaking his head and chuckling. “We’re not signing off. You can have Blake here, and his crew of misfit amateurs, but you’re not taking the future with you. We all know current space forces are under the command of the Air Force. Even our ICBM defenses are Air Force!”

  The fight raged on, until Abrams and I couldn’t take it anymore.

  “How about a new organization?” I asked. “Space Command?”

  “We already have that,” General Vega complained, brushing me off with a gesture. “Space Command handles our nuclear deterrent.”

  “Not all of it,” interrupted Jones. “Our Ohio-class subs have birds of their own.”

  Abrams leaned forward. “You can’t split up the space forces in the future. There must be a single command structure. I suggest Space Command becomes independent.”

  This didn’t make either the Air Force or the Navy guys happy.

  “What about you UN types?” demanded General Vega. He leaned forward like he wanted to grab Abrams by his skinny neck—and he probably did. “Are you going to hold up your end of the bargain this time? Even with financial donations?”

  “I’m not in control of every foreign government.”

  General Vega made a rude sound with his lips and sat back in his chair. “That’s what I thought. Free-loaders, the lot of you, since 1945.”

  “Gentlemen,” Jones jumped in. “Let’s get back to the point. Abrams, are you suggesting Washington wants a fifth major military command structure? The Joint Chiefs will love that.”

  “It’s been done before. The Marines were once part of the Navy. The Air Force was originally a branch of the Army.”

  “Why don’t they just tell us that’s what we should recommend, then?” Vega asked. “That would save everyone a lot of breath.”

  Abrams shrugged. “The suggestion must come from an independent body.”

  “What kind of bullshit…?” General Vega asked, then he turned on me. “You’re in on this, aren’t you? Who told you to make this play? You came in with Abrams—is he pulling your strings now?”

  “Nope,” I said, “no one pulls my strings. Not even if they want to.”

  He nodded slowly. “I guess I can believe that.”

  The conversation continued in this fashion until the various project leaders gave up. No one liked it, but in the end, the idea of a new service won out. The politicians had let us know what we were supposed to say, and we’d finally said it.

  We were all certain they’d chosen this path long ago, but they needed cover so anyone who was pissed off about it couldn’t pin the blame on them. We went along with the grand plan, and Space Command was reborn as an independent branch of the armed services.

  I imagined that departments such as the Coast Guard, Secret Service, Homeland Security and a dozen others had all been born in just such a messy fashion behind the scenes of government.

  It wasn’t long after this meeting that everything changed and sped up. I became an officer in Space Command. They made me a lieutenant commander on the spot, and gave me a pay raise. Before I could even smile at my new patches, the Kher showed up and began making fresh demands. They wanted our ship to launch now.

  As a result, when dawn broke over the mountains the next morning, I found myself standing at attention outside on the rocky landscape of Cheyenne Mountain.

  The wind cut my face like an icy knife as we walked to the hangar. My old crew followed behind me: Dalton, Gwen, Samson and Dr. David Chang. We marched toward the spacecraft in the hangar, which was now welded together and looking like a proper warship.

  “Have you got any idea how to fly this thing, Blake?” Dalton asked over my shoulder.

  “I’m making you the pilot,” I told him, “so I don’t have to worry about it.”

  “Shit,” Samson complained, “we’re all as good as dead.”

  It was just like old times, but I felt the stakes were higher today. If we screwed up, it wouldn’t just doom a few Earthlings trying to stay alive. We were truly representing our homeworld this time, and whatever we did out in space would reflect upon her.

  That felt like a heavy responsibility, but I kept a frozen smile on my face.

  Smiling came easier as we got into the hangar and approached the ship. Damn, I thought, phase-ships looked mean.

  I couldn’t wait to get her out into space—no matter how that was to be accomplished.

  =16=

  One can easily imagine my raw shock when I was met at the hatchway by a pack of unsmiling people in blue jumpsuits. They were all officers, all Air Force pukes. Or, as Navy people liked to call them, “chair force” personnel.

  “Who are you?” Dalton asked the senior officer, a man named Miller.

  Colonel Miller faced off with us at the hatch. He had a twist to his lips I didn’t like.

  “I’m your commanding officer, Dalton,” Colonel Miller said. “That’s who.”

  Miller looked around at the rest of us. There were five of them, and five of us, and apparently Miller didn’t like what he saw.

  He turned to a woman with hair about a half-inch long and frowned. She was an Air Force major named Henderson, and she didn’t look any happier than Miller did.

  “Are they serious?” Miller asked her as if we weren’t there. “These people look like civvies.”

  “They’re serious, Colonel,” Major Henderson said. “We’re in Space Command now. All sorts of riff-raff are joining up for a piece of the pie.”

  “Is that pie for sale, Miss?” Dalton asked brightly.

  Major Henderson turned back to face Dalton with her eyes growing wider by the second.

  She had the bug, I could tell. She’d joined an intergalactic club of beings who wanted to kill Dalton. I couldn’t blame her for that. I could have killed him at that moment myself—hell, I’d tried to on several occasions.

  “S
irs,” I said quickly, “let’s get into the ship, so we can sort this all out. We all represent Earth now.”

  Everyone looked at Miller. He nodded slowly. “All right. I’ll show you the way to the flight deck. Try not to touch anything.”

  We followed him through the ship to the bridge. There, we found the place looked quite familiar.

  “This looks like my old station,” Dr. Chang said, walking to the ops boards and running his hands over the touchscreens. They were running, and although they didn’t project their imagery into three dimensional space the way they had on Hammerhead, they looked like a reasonable imitation.

  “If you don’t mind,” Major Henderson said. She quickly moved to sit between Chang and the touch-boards.

  He backed off in disappointment. Colonel Miller took his spot in the pilot’s chair, which didn’t surprise me. They’d made him both commander and pilot—an arrangement the Kher had recommended against. We’d operated that way on Hammerhead, but this time around, I’d planned to have Dalton fly while I kept my eyes on the tactical situation overall.

  Nothing was happening the way I’d planned, however.

  “Blake,” Dalton hissed, coming up close at my side. “You’ve got to do something. Assert yourself. These people aren’t even supposed to be on this ship.”

  I shrugged helplessly. It was obvious that General Vega had caved on some things, such as allowing Space Command to be born, and letting us come aboard Hammerhead. But he’d also managed to sneak his own people aboard, too. They were taking over, and without any authority to change that, I felt helpless.

  “We have to ride it out,” I told Dalton.

  He squinted at me for a second, then gave me a nasty grin. “Nice one! I’m mad for it, mate.”

  Then he winked at me as he moved away. I was alarmed. Dalton was barely civilized. His statement could have meant just about anything.

  There wasn’t any time to discuss it, though, as the ship lurched into motion under our feet at that moment. The deck began to slide, then slowly tilt.

  “Oh…” Colonel Miller said as he turned to eye us. It was as if he’d forgotten we were there at all. “You people had better strap into those jump-seats. We’re going vertical for take-off.”

  There was so little I knew about flying this ship that I couldn’t argue. We scrambled to fold down and sit upon a humiliating row of orange plastic jump-seats that folded down from the back wall. Feeling like kids on a field-trip, we watched as the flight crew went through checklists, and the ship was trundled out of the hangar.

  The view outside played on the walls. Just like the original Hammerhead, they’d built much of the hull to appear transparent. Really, the illusion involved carefully placed cameras outside the hull and screens inside. The system appeared to allow us to see through solid metal as if it was made of glass.

  There were delays, of course, as the big ship rolled out on what resembled train tracks to a launch-pad. The ship had been put together in haste, and not everything was working at one hundred percent efficiency.

  The drives worked, however. There was no doubt about that. The ship was stood up on its end, and at last we were given the green light to launch.

  No one else was aboard the ship, other than our two flight crews. The rest of the personnel were supposed to meet us in orbit.

  To my mind, that sounded like a wise precaution. Why wipe out all our best technical people in one flash if this thing turned out to be a bomb? Maybe they could rebuild and learn from their mistakes if the worst did occur.

  The countdown was nerve-wracking. When the engines rumbled at last, we were propelled upward with great force.

  That part was new. Aboard Hammerhead, we’d been protected from G-forces created by acceleration. This ship didn’t have a working anti-grav system, however, and we were pressed back into our seats so hard we couldn’t breathe.

  “They’re gonna kill us,” Gwen said, her hand seeking mine.

  “No they won’t,” I said. “They’ve been training for months.”

  “They’ve never flown anything like this monster. They’ll kill us.”

  “She’s probably right,” Dalton lamented.

  Samson didn’t say anything. He had his eyes squeezed shut.

  Dr. Chang was looking around curiously at the instrumentation, ignoring all the rest.

  The rumble grew to a shaking roar, then a singing sound as we got higher. It was enough to set your teeth on edge. Our team had butts and jaws clenched, and I noticed the other flight crew was doing the same. The noises the ship was making were painful to hear. I hoped that once we left the atmosphere, that irritation would subside.

  Fortunately, it did. We reached free-fall after about ten minutes, and everyone unbuckled.

  At last, we were in our element. In the Rebel Fleet service, you often were floating. That wasn’t usually due to orbiting a planet, but rather to a gravity-dampening system that kept the crew from being crushed by high-velocity maneuvers.

  “Hey!” Colonel Miller called out, seeing us fly around the back of the bridge. “Be careful, there are a lot of precarious obstacles in here.”

  We didn’t even answer. We moved like monkeys in a zoo enclosure, gliding over the ceiling, deck and even the walls efficiently.

  “Oh…” he said. “I guess you guys have logged some time in free-fall.”

  “Over a year, last time I checked,” I said.

  “Hmm… You might be useful after all. I can use an experienced crew in the aft engineering shop. There aren’t a lot of astronauts with technical repair skills that have logged serious hours in null-G.”

  I was sure he was trying to be pleasant, but his words were grating on my team. We’d been out there, after all. We’d been at war in ships like this one.

  “Tell me, Colonel,” I asked. “How many battles have you fought in space?”

  He blinked at me, then frowned. “I know what you’re getting at, Blake. But you should know we’re all combat veterans from operation Sand Devil in Africa.”

  Dalton chuckled. So did Samson.

  “What’s funny about that?” Major Henderson demanded.

  “Major, Samson and I killed men for breakfast during Sand Devil. Blake did his share of bombing them in that carrier bird of his, too.”

  I didn’t say anything. Everyone looked uncertain of where that left us. The flight crew generally outranked us, and they had certainly been trained to run this ship. But how much did that matter? My people had more experience in space-going warships than anyone else on Earth, period.

  Under different circumstances, I thought we might all work out a good relationship. We had the experience, they had some good skills. I thought it might pull together in time.

  But we didn’t have as much time as I thought we did.

  =17=

  As part of our maiden voyage, the phase-ship was supposed to rendezvous with Ursahn’s carrier above Earth. Navigating to this point was relatively easy with Earth satellites and radar stations to guide us.

  We docked smoothly, and the flight crew was all smug about it. I could tell they figured they’d mastered the universe.

  “Don’t tell them,” Dalton whispered to me as we all moved to the main hatch to greet Ursahn’s delegation.

  “Don’t tell them what?” I asked.

  He gave me an odd look. “Have you forgotten so quickly? This is going to be a good time for all, Chief!”

  I stared after him as he nonchalantly stepped to the hatch and operated it without orders.

  Colonel Miller came down from the bridge, laughing and congratulating his team on a successful flight. He frowned when he saw Dalton spinning a wheel and popping open the main hatch.

  “Dalton?” he called. “No one gave you any orders regarding—”

  That was as far as he got before the hatch swung open. It was new, but it squealed anyway. That was probably due to varied temperatures and pressures exerted upon the ship, which was new to space travel.

  There, dir
ectly on the other side, stood Ursahn and Shaw.

  Seeing Shaw brought back memories. He was a big, mean bastard. Taller than most men, and possessed of great strength, he looked more human than he was. He’d been in charge of recruiting Earthmen into the service of the Kher, and he could be brutal.

  “Captain Ursahn, Commander Shaw,” I said, nodding to them.

  “We meet again, Blake,” Shaw said. “I never thought we would.”

  “Great to see you too, sir.”

  “Permission to come aboard this evil ship of yours?” Shaw asked. “We have to perform an inspection.”

  “Of course, come on—”

  At this point, Colonel Miller lost it. “Yes, by all means,” he boomed loudly. “Come aboard my ship, Commander Shaw.”

  Shaw had one foot up, but it froze there above the rim of the hatch.

  “What is this creature, and why is it addressing me?” he asked me.

  “Uh… that’s Colonel Miller, sir. He’s been placed in command of this ship by Earth’s Space Command.”

  “Space Command?” Shaw asked dubiously.

  “Yes. That’s right, sir.”

  Miller pressed forward and tried to shake Shaw’s hand. That wasn’t a natural thing for the Kher, but fortunately Shaw didn’t take it as an attack. He’d served with me long enough to know that humans had strange customs.

  He allowed his hand to be clasped briefly, but then yanked it away. Colonel Miller almost pitched forward on his face, but managed to recover and smile in confusion.

  “Sorry, Commander,” Miller said. “This way to see the decks?”

  Shaw glanced at me, and I nodded, waving him forward. Ursahn watched from the hatchway. She didn’t come aboard, or say much of anything.

  Miller introduced his flight crew, but Shaw didn’t even look at them. He was only interested in the phase-ship. He peppered Miller with technical questions about it, and accepted the answers without comment.

  “I understand the Kher don’t have much experience with this kind of vessel, Shaw,” Miller said. “But we can—”

  Shaw turned on him angrily. He’d barely looked at the man until now.