Warbound Legacy
Snippet #?
(A bit of an explanation. Since the last group of snippets, the editorial process has been well under way. What that means, among other things, is that chapter numbers and headings have changed. This is the next snippet chronologically after the last one sent out to paid subscribers. I’m including this one for all subscribers because I’m late getting back to everyone. I should get back on track next week—if Mother Nature and Murphy decide to leave me alone for a bit. In the meantime, this is nearing the end of the first section of the book. Don’t forget, the book is available for pre-order now on Amazon.—ASG)
FNS Windwalker
Fuerconese Naval Light Cruiser
Captain Travis Locke leaned back and blew out a sigh of relief as he read his latest orders. Despite his earlier doubts, FleetCom was taking the situation inside the Bennington System seriously. Not only had it wasted no time responding to his latest report, but it was also sending reinforcements. That alone spoke volumes about hos concerned FleetCom was about the situation. Unfortunately, the Windwalker was on its own for at least a few weeks, possibly as long as a month, and one hell of a lot could happen in that time. Still, it was better than nothing.
He needed to remember that.
A soft tap sounded at the door to his ready room and he looked up. A slight smile touched his lips when he did. Major Kelton Weller wore the daily shipboard uniform of the Fuerconese Marine Corps. His close-cropped hair was no longer as dark as when they first met. But then neither was Locke’s. More than thirty years ago, they met as first year cadets at the Academy. They started their careers together and, unless something unexpected happened, they would end them together. If everything went according to plan, they’d soon retire to Fuercon where their wives and families waited for them.
It couldn’t happen soon enough.
“Have a seat, Bull.” He waited until Weller moved further inside the ready room before punching in the command to not only close but lock the hatch. “This shouldn’t take long.”
Weller arched one dark brow in question as the latch snicked shut. Then, instead of asking any of the questions Locke saw reflected in his eyes, he settled back in his chair in front of Locke’s desk and waited with a patience born not only of their long friendship but of trusting the ship’s captain to get to the point as quickly as possible.
“A dispatch packet arrived from FleetCom.” Locke slid a datachip into the ‘reader and pulled it up. Without looking down, he entered a command and FleetCom’s wallpaper appeared on the holo screen behind his desk.
“That didn’t take long.”
Locke nodded.
“Do we have new orders?”
“We do and, before you ask, they are taking our concerns seriously.”
Weller leaned forward, his dark brown eyes sparking with interest. “Really? I figured they’d wait until we had at least one more incident to report before taking notice of what’s going on out here.”
“So did I.” Locke blew out a breath. “But it seems we aren’t the only ones voicing concern about what’s been happening. According to Admiral Tremayne, allied ships patrolling neighboring sectors have reported similar incidents. Worse, they’ve had no better luck getting assistance from the system government than we have. I have a feeling the official diplomatic response from Bennington to SecState hasn’t been any more forthcoming than it has been with us.”
“Damn.” Weller gave a low whistle before shaking his head. “What’s Tremayne’s take on it all?”
“Guarded is the best way to put it. Reading between the lines, I’d say she’s worried and has her own questions about what’s going on.”
Weller nodded, understanding what Locke didn’t say. Miranda Tremayne built her reputation as one of Fuercon’s most talented naval strategists in the last century or more during the last war. She recognized not only the short-term but also the long-term implications of actions taken by the enemy and Fuercon’s possible responses. That ability, along with her willingness to think outside the box strategically, helped save her command more than once. When the previous administration announced the ill-fated ceasefire with the Callusians, she’d been one of those brave enough to not only speak out against it but to resign her commission and run for political office to help change the face of Fuercon’s politics. She’d played politician for only a short time before being recalled to active duty when the Callusians blatantly violated the peace treaty. Then she became one of those instrumental in finally defeating the enemy. If she was worried now, neither of them would ignore it.
“And our new orders?”
“Believe it or not, but they’re pretty damned close to what we recommended. We’re to maintain position just this side of Bennington space. Our priority hasn’t changed. We’re to continue our patrol, making sure we keep a lid on smuggling and other illegal operations. However, we are also to keep an eye on Bennington. FleetCom authorized the launch of sensor platforms closer to the system border. If anything else happens, the platforms should give us an earlier head’s up.
“More specifically, FleetCom wants us to take note of any suspicious activity within the system. We are to be on the lookout for any ships or transmissions that are out of the ordinary and we aren’t to limit our search to distress signals.”
Weller blew out a breath. For a moment, neither said anything. As the silence dragged out between them, Locke watched the man sitting across from him. Weller’s expression said it all. It also confirmed that his friend shared his concerns. Whatever was happening inside the Bennington System, the trouble—or at least the source of it—extended beyond this sector. Unfortunately, he didn’t have a clue what it might be. That meant he didn’t know how best to carry out his orders and protect his ship and crew.
“And if we do pick up another distress signal?”
Locke blew out a breath. He had a feeling it wasn’t a matter of if they received another distress signal, but when. One look at Weller and he knew his Marine commander felt the same way.
“Our orders are to pinpoint its location. Once we have, we’re to contact Bennington Space Control and pass on the information. Then we’re to request they immediately dispatch ships to support the vessel.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. This was the part of his orders he didn’t like. “FleetCom also said I’m to tell them that any failure on their part to do so will be immediately reported to FleetCom. Further, if we have reason to believe that their failure to act will result in the loss of life, or if the ship or its passengers and cargo originate from Fuercon or our other allies, we will respond and do everything we can to render assistance.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Weller looked at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Do they want to provoke the system into taking action against us?”
“You and I both know that’s the last thing they want.” He waited until Weller dipped his chin in acknowledgment. “Unfortunately, at least for my peace of mind, the brass didn’t explain why they’re suddenly taking this stance. My gut tells me it’s their eay of forcing Bennington to open the lines of communication and tell us what is actually going on.”
“That’s not going to happen, at least not without us forcing the issue.” Weller tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for a long moment. Then he turned his expression back to Locke, his expression grim. “Sorry, Trav. I know you hate this as much as I do.”
Locke nodded.
“At least our orders are clear on what FleetCom expects us to do if we receive another SOS. After warning Bennington Space Command—and assuming they don’t immediately dispatch ships to investigate—we’re authorized to enter their space and engage the enemy. We are not authorized to pursue if they break off the attack. However, Tremayne did say we can if I believe it is the only way to prevent them from returning to finish the job. But she would prefer it if we stayed to protect the ship, its crew and cargo. We are free to return to this side of the line once Bennington has sent ships to relieve us.”
For a moment it looked like Weller wanted to say something. Then he inhaled deeply, holding that breath for a long count of ten before exhaling. Locke waited, recognizing his Marine commander’s frustration and sharing it. The Bennington System was nominally one of Fuercon’s allies. During the war, Bennington had helped turn the tide against the Callusians. The treaties between the two systems signed after the war clearly spelled out what the Windwalker could within the system do without official permission from the Bennington government. He would have to tread carefully to avoid violating those treaties.
“What if they don’t respond in a timely manner?”
“Officially, the admiral leaves that to our discretion, reminding us that we have a duty to protect not only citizens of Fuercon but our allies as well. However, she included a private note with the dispatch. She’ll have our backs if it becomes necessary to escort any vessel requesting assistance to this side of the line. If we do, we’re to contact FleetCom for further instructions as soon as we’re out of the Bennington.”
Weller sat back, his expression betraying his surprise. “Jammer, I’ve got a bad feeling about this. She’s giving us permission to do whatever it takes to protect the ship and its crew and passengers and/or crew. That doesn’t surprise me. What does is how this is starting to feel like she knows a lot more about what’s going on than she’s letting on. If we aren’t careful, it will be our asses in a sling if we aren’t careful.”
“I think you’re wrong about her knowing more than we do, Bull. It’s not her way to withhold information that could put the ship in danger. But I do feel this is her way of telling us to be careful and not to forget our primary duty—protect Fuercon, her people and her interests.”
“I hope you’re right.” The major climbed to his feet and paced the length of the ready room. When he turned back, he opened his mouth to say something and then closed it. For a moment, he stood there, a war of emotions darkening his expression. Then he scrubbed his hands over his face before trying again. “I’m not doubting the admiral. This is starting to feel too much like what we saw with Midlothian during the last year of the war. I find myself wondering if Bennington’s government, at least some part of it, isn’t playing games and the last thing you and I need is for the Windwalker to get caught in the middle.”
“Bull, you know I haven’t been happy with Bennington’s lack of response to the attacks.”
Weller nodded.
“I’ll even admit I’ve been wondering if someone in MSP hasn’t taken a page out of the Midlothians’ playbook. There’s very little chance the Callusians are involved. Their home system is still interdicted. It will take decades for them to rebuild their tech capabilities. This feels like it’s more homegrown.” He continued before Weller could interrupt. “Don’t get me wrong. I don’t buy the system government’s explanation for what’s happening any more than you do. My gut tells me what we’re seeing could be coming from the Blackstar Cartel. They’ve been operating out of the Stygia Nexus.”
Weller considered for a moment.
“You may be right. I’ve seen some intel reports making note of increased activity out of the Nexus. You and I both know they’ve been active in other sectors, trying their hand as some of the allied systems stand down parts of their wartime navies. But, to be honest, I never considered it here. Which is foolish, I know. Especially since it would explain our concerns about some of the activity our sensors have picked up in Bennington’s third sector.”
This time, Locke was the one to shake his head. “It’s not foolish, Bull. I didn’t want to believe it until I started thinking about Bennington’s response to the last distress call we intercepted. It suddenly dawned on me that it was too much like the responses out of Quasarin Cluster. Our sources inside the cluster confirm there are parts of the government, both system-wide and local, that are working with the cartel. They’re letting the cartel do what it wants in return for protection and other ‘services’ that keeps them in power.”
“Which, with elections coming up in the Bennington System might be what this is all about,” Weller finished for him. “What else did Tremayne have to say?”
“We’re not going to take any unnecessary risks.” Which might prove easier said than done. “Everything about this feels like it could blow up in our faces without warning. So, until reinforcements arrive, we’re going to need to stay alert.”
Weller pulled his datacomp. “Your orders?”
“Recommendations, which we will discuss,” Locke corrected. “I’d like your LACs to go to standby and be ready to launch with minimal notice. We’ll hold the battle shuttles back for support, SAR, and boarding purposes. I may be wrong and the enemy is nothing more than homegrown malcontents trying to cause trouble before the election. But we’re going to prepare as if we are dealing with the Cartel.”
For a moment, Weller said nothing. Locke waited, understanding. The major had the reputation for weighing all the possibilities before coming to a decision. Because they weren’t currently in the middle of a firefight, he wouldn’t rush. Not that Locke expected him to take long. Not when it appeared they were both on the same page.
“You want the LACs running interference if we have to enter Bennington space.”
“I do.”
Interference that could come from either the attacking ships or from Bennington’s Navy.
“I’m not sure I like it.” When Locke opened his mouth to interrupt, Weller stopped him. “It’s not that I disagree, Travis. I don’t. What I don’t like is the fact that even with our new orders, we’re going to be operating at a disadvantage. One that can blow up in our faces. If we assume we’re going up against the Cartel and build our battle plans accordingly and then find ourselves against someone else.” He left the rest of it unsaid.
“I know, but I don’t see any alternative.”
“We’re going to have to be careful not to keep the LAC and battle shuttle crews on alert too long at a time. We can’t afford for them to lose their edge.”
“We’ll brief the senior officers and NCOs tomorrow morning.” Locke scrubbed his hands over his face, suddenly tired. “Study what we have on the attacks and the latest intel on the Cartel. Let’s meet an hour before the briefing to compare notes.”
“Permission to brief my COLAC?”
Locke nodded.
“What happened to this being an easy last cruise for the both of us?”
“Obviously, someone didn’t get the memo.” Locke snorted out a laugh and then sobered. “That’s not all, Bull. The Windwalker is still scheduled for an upcoming Academy training cruise.”
Weller looked at him, his expression a mix of disbelief and frustration. “Please tell me you’re kidding. FleetCom has to realize what a bad idea that is considering the current circumstances.”
Locke shook his head. “I’m not sure they’ve even thought about it. At least not in relation to the problems we’re seeing coming out of Bennington.”
“Can we suggest, respectfully of course, that they take a few minutes to actually consider everything and change their damned minds?”
“I wish.” Locke stood and moved to the door, opening it long enough to ask someone to bring for coffee for the two of them. Then he returned to his desk, leaning against it instead of taking his seat behind it. “Unfortunately, FleetCom anticipated our reaction. At least they addressed some of our concerns.”
He reached behind him and input another command, this one advancing the “page” on the holo screen. Weller studied the display, his lips thinning into a line of frustration.
“What the hell are we supposed to do, Travis? The last thing any of our people needs is to play wet nurse to a bunch of cadets who can’t find their asses with a map, guidance comp and full sensor array. We sure as hell don’t need them in the middle of a firefight.”
“I’m sending my concerns to FleetCom as well as Admiral Tremayne as soon as we finish here. I suggest you do the same with General Okafor.”
“And if they don’t listen?”
“Then we’re shepherding half a dozen cadets, dealing with who knows what from the system, and praying retirement comes soon.”
“Do we at least know who the cadets are?”
Locke nodded and reached behind him. A moment later, the holo screen displayed six names, along with ages, class rankings, and other pertinent information. Weller studied it and then hissed out a breath before shoving to his feet.
“What is it?” Concern roughened the captain’s voice as he watched the Marine pace the length of his ready room.
“Take a look at the second name.”
Locke did and frowned as understanding dawned. “Is that who I think it is?”
Weller nodded. “That is Ashlyn Shaw’s son.”
Locke thought for a moment. “Okay, I understand why having him onboard might be a distraction. His mother’s a war hero and his grandmother one of the Corps’ senior officers.”
“You obviously haven’t gotten the to latest update from Okafor. Lt. General Elizabeth Shaw is now General Shaw, Assistant Commandant of the Corps. Word is she will take over for Okafor after the election, assuming SecDef wins.”
Locke whistled softly. That did change things a bit, at least from Weller’s point of view. But it didn’t explain his attitude.
“Replacing her as CO of 7thDiv is Major General Ashlyn Shaw.”
Locke’s eyes went wide in surprise. He never expected Shaw to return to active-duty status. The fact she had only deepened his concerns. Now he had to worry about that as well as her son being part of his ship’s complement.
“I take it you’re as surprised by Shaw’s return to active duty as I am.”
Weller nodded. “I am. Even though her return is being classified as a TDY until a new CO for the division is named, I have my doubts. I know Okafor and I know she’d like nothing more than having Shaw back in SpecOps. Especially if we’re about to find ourselves going up against the Cartel or worse.”
“And we’re about to have the son and grandson of two of the highest ranking and most well-respected Marines on Fuercon.”
Locke frowned. Damn it, what had he done to deserve all these headaches on his last tour of duty?
“It’s worse than that, Travis.” Locke looked at him, waiting for him to explain. “Look at the third name on the list—Howard Powlen.”
Locke didn’t react for a moment. Then he bit back a curse. “Please tell me that’s not who I think it is.”
“Wish I could, old friend. But that’s Lucius Powlen’s grandson and the golden boy of the family. From what I’ve heard, the old man is planning on him taking over the company when he steps down since the boy’s father is such a lost cause.”
“Two questions: if that’s the case, why the hell is he at the Academy and who the hell thought it was a good thing to put him onboard my ship?”
His mind boggled. His family’s role in bringing down much of Powlen’s family three generations ago. Back then, the core of the family still lived in the Torgen System. One ancestor commanded the cruiser squadron that intercepted the ships that broke open the scandal surrounding the Powlens and their shipping conglomerate. Another ancestor was part of the prosecution team responsible for not only leveling charges against the company and those members of the family responsible for its illegal activities but also took part in the prosecution. Even now, after all these years, there was no love lost between their families.
Could there be a better recipe for catastrophe?
If there was, he didn’t want to know what it was.
Snippets resume Monday with the rest of the chapter.