1 Day Later. May 25th, 2265. 08:00 St. Mary’s Station – Military Docking Ring
John was walking down the docking arm towards the CNS Waukesha’s primary airlock. There was a small queue waiting to get cleared through security. The grumbling, specifically about how long it was taking to get through security, and general anxiousness were hard to overlook. He looked over the tops of the crew’s heads to see what the commotion was.
A pair of seaman recruits were very anxious in front of John. They began whispering to one another anxiously. They were looking downright frightened now, a far cry from what their body language was giving off minutes before. One of them turned around and let out a quiet yip as she noticed John.
“Uhm, sorry about that sir,” Seaman Recruit Chelsea Dykes.
“Sir,” Seaman Recruit Anna Block said quickly.
John nodded and smiled at the pair. It was clear that the two recognized he was an officer, but not that he was the ship’s captain. That entertained him for reasons he couldn’t quite comprehend.
“At ease. No worries, ladies. What’s got you so worked up?” John said politely.
“The mission, sir,” Chelsea said, “I’ve heard rumors.”
“Such as?” John inquired inquisitively.
The line began to move once again. That caught the girls off guard, not that that was a difficult thing to do in their mindset. Chelsea nudged Anna slightly as she motioned to John. She, more than Anna, knew that it was rude to not respond to an officer.
“I’ve heard it was a secret mission against the Alliance,” Anna said sheepishly, “I’m not sure if I’m even qualified to help with that.”
“I heard it was pirate suppression, but all hush-hush, sir. Like the pirates are a secondary objective and there’s something else going on.”
“Oh, I’m sure it’ll be ok. I’d recommend not listening to those rumors and instead listening to your department heads. They and your peers will help you out. Just do your best,” John motioned ahead, “Time to get scanned in.”
Both young girls smiled and quickly turned and stepped forward. They fumbled at gathering their badges but eventually, the security officer was able to scan both of them. He gruffly gestured for them to pass.
Anna spun back and asked, “Sorry, sir. I didn’t catch your name.”
John smiled as he handed his ID to the security officer, “Lieutenant John Lief. I’m the new captain,” John pointed through a window at the large ship.
Everyone in earshot immediately snapped to attention and saluted. John smiled and nodded as he quickly shot a salute in front of him. He turned behind and saluted.
“At ease.”
Second Lieutenant Dave Lynch handed his badge back to John, “Apologies for not recognizing you, sir. I wasn’t aware that you were joining us today.”
“Not a problem Chief. I’m here to get my office and quarters set up. And to get the department heads together, I’d like to meet them since I’m the random outsider.”
“Understood, if you’d like me to reach out to them I can arrange that. You aren’t the only new senior officer to join this ship.”
“That’s good to know. Please make contact with the department heads.”
“Will do, I will message you when I’m done,” Dave said before cautiously saying, “Also sir, I’m not sure if you are aware, but camo uniforms haven’t been allowed on the ship.”
John nodded, “Per the former captain’s purview, no?”
David nodded.
“There’s a new sheriff in town,” John smiled, “The working uniform is acceptable to me. But that’s a topic I’d like the heads to have a say in.”
Dave smiled as he exhaled, “No need to wait for mine, I’m all for it.”
“Good to hear. Don’t work too hard. I want to take a look-see around my ship.”
“Would you like an escort, sir?”
John shook his head, “Nah, I should be fine. Thank you though.”
The security chief nodded. John couldn’t help but smile as he passed by the officer and walked into his ship. If there weren’t dozens of eyes trained on him, he’d be skipping with joy through the airlock. He was, at long last, finally in command of his own ship. Nothing would keep him from feeling this happy.
09:45 CNS Waukesha – Captain’s Quarters
John’s seabag, he couldn’t help but chuckle at that outdated terminology, was laying open on his bed. Half of its contents had already been removed and put away in the appropriate drawers. He was hanging up a spare uniform when the distinctive communication chime began ringing.
“Captain, I wanted to let you know your suits have been delivered and the reliquaries are being installed as we speak,” Third Lieutenant Deb Wilkinson, the ship’s chief communication officer, said.
John walked over to the terminal and pressed the green button, “Thank you, Lieutenant. Has the chief of security rounded up all of the department heads?”
“Yes and no, sir,” Deb said uncomfortably.
“Expand please.”
“Those on the ship have been notified. However, four are not on the ship yet. Check-in time is not for another four-plus hours.”
“Understood, please tell the chief to cease attempting to contact those who are not on the ship. He, or his staff, are to inform those department heads to immediately drop their gear off at their rooms and come to a meeting at 13:00 in the executive boardroom.”
“Understood sir, I will contact Lieutenant Lynch and inform him of your updated orders.”
John let go of the button and continued stowing his gear. Ten minutes later his clothing was stowed, and he was happy with where everything was. Everything was stored in an optimal way, at least in his mind it was. Only a couple of things were remaining.
Officers, and enlisted for that matter, were allowed to decorate their rooms to make them feel more homely. As with everything in the military, there were limits. While John was one to test many of those limits, if not crash right through them, he was content with his few decorations.
The first was a graduation picture from the academy. The picture frame was magnetized and easily locked in place to the left of his primary terminal. John would never be called sentimental, but it was hard not to smile when he saw that picture. Even if there were individuals who either wouldn’t return any communique or whom he didn’t see or chat with them frequently, it was still an accomplishment that he shared with dear friends.
The second item was another picture, also in a magnetized frame that he put beneath the first picture, of when he did a spacewalk to repair the damage that was done to the CNS Des Moines. A model of the damaged and heavily Macgyvered ship was magnetized to the desk itself.
The last items were three pictures of Alice and him. A wedding picture, in a folding frame that was placed and conveniently magnetized to the desk, a picture of the couple in their condo at St. Mary’s station, and one while they were vacation at the resort taken just a week ago.
“Holy hell, this is really happening,” John smirked to himself as he logged into the terminal.
Just as he was about to do some preparatory work, another communication request appeared on the screen. Unlike the previous one, this was from an external source. It was also not from the station or a recognized military source.
“What have we here?” John asked himself before he accepted the communication.
“Congratulations are in order I see,” a familiar-sounding voice said.
“Afraid to show your face Captain DuBious?” John responded sarcastically.
“Always, you are not someone I can trust my life to. Though I suppose the reverse is true for you of course.”
“And yet I’m broadcasting my image,” John attempted to bait the captain.
“Yes, you are. But I’ll get straight to the point of this message as you share the same focus I do. We are not your enemy. I would request that you give us a wide berth.”
Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.
“Then you’d be wise to avoid merchant vessels and Naval assets. Attack either and I promise you that I will be a problem to you.”
“Come now, Lieutenant Lief. We only attack the corrupt, those bereft of codes and morals. We genuinely mean the Navy no harm. We just choose to live free lives without the yokes of government to constrain us.”
“You benefit from the protection that government you so desperately loathe. Avoid mercantile and Naval ships and we won’t have a problem. Ignore this advice at your own peril.”
The captain laughed, “Somehow I feel like even if we did abide by that, you’d still find or manufacture an excuse to destroy us.”
“Come now Captain, you of all people know that I need little reason to stab someone in the back. But as you’re a worthy adversary, I’ll stab you in the chest as I stare you in the eyes.”
A chuckle could be heard before the line was cut. To John’s annoyance and dismay, the Folly of Icarus had encrypted and bounced that message off numerous satellites and stations. Its location would take weeks to decipher, far too long to make any usable intel from the call.
John quickly updated the ship’s mission with its first report. Contact with the Folly of Icarus had been made. Somehow John thought that the Waukesha wouldn’t be fighting the Folly in anger for some time to come, but how he wished for an easy deployment where he could kill two birds with one stone.
13:00 CNS Waukesha – Executive Boardroom
John walked into the room right as the clock ticked over to the new hour. Assembled before him were the nine heads of each department on the ship. All of them, aside from the company commander of the Marines assigned to the Waukesha and John, were wearing the beige service uniform. More than one set of eyes questioned his choice of uniform.
“Good afternoon. I’m happy to make y’all’s acquaintance,” John said as he sat down at the head chair, “First things first. I’m aware the former Captain was somewhat specific on what uniforms were and weren’t acceptable. The service uniform and working uniform will both be acceptable under my command.”
“Sir, with all due respect,” Second Lieutenant Barbara Lipsky, chief helmsmen, said confidently, “The former captain was right in banning the working uniform. They don’t look as clean as the service uniform and allow for a slovenlier appearance.”
“I think the latter is a bit of a stretch,” Second Lieutenant Walter Morgan, chief weapons officer, “But consistency is something we ought to strive to achieve onboard the ship.”
“I doubt the engineering crew is going to toss up much of a fuss with getting an option,” Second Lieutenant Marty Olson said, “I’m all for that change.”
John smiled and interrupted the conversation, “We don’t live in a democracy onboard this vessel. Your personal opinions regarding the uniforms are, to be brutally frank, moot. I’m sure many of you have questions about the particulars of our mission.”
“Killing pirates? Not much nuance there,” Captain Bart Taylor said bluntly.
“It actually is a bit more nuanced than that. Ultimately our remit is to hunt down the bases of said pirates and eliminate the hostiles. What isn’t said, but what we will be doing is rounding up the youth and other non-combatants to send them off to re-education camps before we destroy their bases. Your marines will be very useful for that portion of the mission.”
“So, it is true, pirates have made a comeback of sorts,” Commander Nancy Buckley, the ship's CAG said.
“They aren’t a serious threat to the military or any well-populated system. But they are bad for business. They haven’t hit any void liners, yet, but attacks on freighters and other mercantile ships are way up. The conflict with the Alliance caused us to lose focus on the little things. The civilian government’s decisions drove a great number of our citizens to this outlaw life.”
“While it’s not my area of expertise,” Second Lieutenant Ira Benson, chief logistical officer, “Is Fleet Command sure that the conflict really did this?”
John shook his head, “If I had more to share I would. If I were to add my opinion to the matter, I believe the general malaise infecting those who became pirates was present long before the conflict. The conflict with the Alliance gave the malcontents an opportune moment to eschew their loyalties.”
Ira sighed before speaking, “And now we’re left cleaning up the mess.”
“Pretty much,” John said.
Nancy then looked at John with a concerned look, “How are the pirates handling the influx of new bodies? They didn’t have a ton of ships at their behest.”
“Thefts are up at all ship graveyards. That affects the Alliance and us equally. Bribes and other illegal transfers of money are up too. Hundreds of employees at them have already been charged and many more will too. But the bureaucracy moved too slowly to fix or prevent such issues from manifesting.”
David sighed, “Typical of civvies to mess this up.”
Anna shook her head and spoke to David, “This isn’t just on them. Unless I’m mistaken several officers have been relieved and charged with aiding and abetting piracy.”
“What a bloody mess this is,” Marty said, “Do you really think we’re going to be able to take care of this?”
“In one deployment?” John grinned, “Hell no. This is going to be a multi-year effort. As much as I hate to say it, the song and pony show the civvies will put on to dissuade any more disgruntled citizens from going down this path. If you’ve read the news we’re already well underway in that regard.”
Deb then looked at John, “That isn’t all of it, is it sir?”
“It is not. Fleet Command thinks that the mission isn’t difficult enough for us. They want this task force to take down the Folly of Icarus.”
The room went silent immediately. All eyes were focused on John. No one said a word. That is until the chief culinary officer broke the tension with a belly laugh.
Third Lieutenant Parker Winslow began to speak in his thick Scottish accent, “Do they really believe that mission parameter is possible?”
“They seem to think so. This is for this room only, but the captain of the Icarus messaged me earlier today.”
The room once again drew deathly silent.
“How, or better, why would they bother contacting you?” Walter asked, “No offense meant, sir, but who the hell are you to them?”
“Had a run-in with them while I was in the academy during my third year. We were able to track them in one of those old jalopies that they put us in.”
Parker laughed once again, “Then the rumors about you are true! This will be a fun trip.”
Many eyes rolled at the culinary officer. John just grinned and scanned the rest of the room. It was clear that the body language on two of his heads was noticeably uncomfortable.
“Ira, how goes the resupply?” John switched the topics.
“Poorly. We’re three days behind schedule. And our missiles and torpedoes were delayed because of pirate activity in Alpha Centauri by a week. The best case scenario is we’re out of here in eight days.”
“On that note, not all the food I’ve ordered has been loaded onto the ship either. The station assures me that this will be done within seventy-two hours.”
“How long till all the crew is present?” John asked.
“Three days,” First Lieutenant Damian Oliver said.
“Ok, get shifts built and begin drilling them. If the crew have domiciles on the station, they can commute to work for the time being,” John said leaning back in his chair, “Does anyone have anything else to bring up?”
The officers began to look around the room at each other. Damian tried to give off no looks, but John was sure he wanted to say something. Not wanting to draw things out any longer John ended the meeting ahead of time.
“Great, I’ll let y’all get to it. I’ll be meeting with everyone over the next couple of days. If you need anything let me know. You all are dismissed,” John said and paused for a moment, “Damian, if you’d do me a favor and stay behind.”
The officers stood up and began to file out of the room. There was some quiet chatting among some of the officers. Notably, there was some grumbling between Parker and Ira about how they can’t get what they need.
When the room was just the two officers John looked down the table at Damian, “I understand that you were expecting to take command of this vessel. I hope we can work well with one another.”
Damian continued to be stone-faced, “I have been told that I will be getting my own command after this deployment. It’s a bit disappointing that I won’t be getting this ship but I’ll make do.”
“I noticed during that conversation that you didn’t agree with some things. Speak frankly with me if you would,” John said politely.
“I disagree with the change in uniform. I believe the working uniform is the appropriate one to wear on duty. Camouflage is a bit much on a starship.”
John chuckled and nodded in agreement, “You aren’t wrong. In the middle half of the twenty-first-century submariners wore camouflage while deployed. I don’t, and frankly, can’t argue against your logic. Where I can argue, and ultimately make a decision, is based on comfort. This uniform is simply more comfortable than the working uniform.”
“Understood. The decision has been made. I have another thing I’d like to discuss with you sir,” Damian said, continuing to appear unemotional.
“Fire away.”
“Rumors are that you were effectively running the Des Moines when she was shot to hell.”
“It’s no rumor. My captain got us into that shitshow then got paralyzed when it began to go sideways. I tried to make the enemy bleed as much as possible while also getting the fuck out of dodge. An Alliance frigate, which was expertly maneuvered and hidden, had another idea in mind.”
“I see. Then the rumor had a bit of truth in it.”
“In my history rumors are generally based on some portion of the truth, but not the whole truth. That isn’t all though, is it?”
“The mess with the special operation. You killed members of our own military.”
“I did, and to be frank it was the first time I’ve done that either. And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. Our military, yours and mine, betrayed my marines and me. When they chose to kill off the witnesses to numerous crimes and to hide their attempted theft, they lost the right to call themselves a member of our military. That they ended up dying was a blessing to them.”
“I have no intentions of betraying you. But I don’t feel comfortable with the amount of blood on your hands.”
John grinned as he tapped the table, “That makes two of us Damian,” his grin turned to a somber look and he spoke more quietly, “That makes two of us.”
“I’ll get working on the bridge rotation. I expect to deliver that to you by the end of the day.”
John nodded as he stood up, “I’ll be in my ready room, I have meetings with the other captains in our task force over the next couple of hours.”
“Do they know what they are getting themselves into?” Damian said as he also stood up and moved to the door.
“I doubt it, but I’ll get them to read into the mess we have to deal with.”
16:30 CNS Waukesha – Captain’s Ready Room
“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” Captain Brady Cohen said, “Ok, culling the pirates is one thing, but the Folly of Icarus? Fuck me.”
John smiled as he leaned back in his chair, “Yeah, that one seems a bit sketchy. The way it was delivered was nice to have. But given that the captain of her already reached out to me I feel like we’re on a collision course.”
“You do seem to have a talent for that. Anyways, I read your recommendation. I pair up with the fast attack frigate CNS Boulder and then take a trio of destroyers as my wing.”
“Specifically, the Frederickson, Ekre, and Johnson. The Nagao and Sanada will remain with me and the four corvettes we have,” John said.
“That would mean Vanessa would be leading the other wing, right?” Brady asked.
“That’s right. Lieutenant Davis is in command of your sister-ship.”
“Classmates more like it. The CNS Pasto was an earlier design in the same class technically. I’m sure she’ll be up to the task. How do you want to handle the missile frigates?”
“They will remain with me for now. The level of enemy resistance will dictate whether or not you and Vanessa get a bonus ship.”
Brady laughed, “Between you, me, and the wall, I’d prefer to not have them. They make a mess of encounters with the volume of rockets and missiles out there.”
“You aren’t wrong, but missile frigates are the only class that punches way above their weight class.”
“If pirates are fielding battleships, then we have serious issues. If you don’t have anything more for me then I’ll get back to drills and the fun world of paperwork and logistics.”
“Enjoy,” John said sarcastically as the pair of captains laughed before ending the communication.
John’s first proper command was here. In a scant week or two the task force would be off hunting pirates. But something felt off, the Folly of Icarus was a wildcard in all of this. How, or even if, he’d be able to cut them down was an unanswered question. But for now, he’d set his eyes on easier targets.