Battleship Trafalgar
Rendezvous Point
Commander Nathan Chase stood on the bridge of the battleship Trafalgar as the Cortez came alongside.
“Make ready for docking,” Chase ordered Lieutenant Wokoma at the operations station. The younger woman acknowledged his order.
The Trafalgar had undergone a massive refit in recent weeks. The ship had been retrieved from the depths of space, where it had been for two and a half centuries after it vanished without a trace on its maiden voyage. Earth’s first faster-than-light ship, possessed a unique engine, allowing it to seemingly vanish from one spot and immediately appear in another.
The jump drive technology was revolutionary, but after such a large-scale and public disaster, the concept was shelved in favour of the now-standardised hyperdrive, where a ship slipped into a subspace dimension allowing faster-than-light travel.
The Trafalgar had received a full systems upgrade, no longer relying on the technology of two hundred years earlier. The bridge now had state-of-the-art interfaces and the latest in weaponry and defence. The engine had been restored as best they could, and the time required to restart the drive had been significantly reduced from the initial period of twenty-four hours, increasing tactical advantage, appearing immediately in a position for a precision strike. Whilst it couldn’t return to a home port straight away, it was not required to wait until the engines had completed their full cooling-off period, either.
Chase had pushed for the Trafalgar to also receive a standard hyperdrive for use on long-range missions, but there had yet to be time to complete that installation. Chase felt a great deal of pride in the ship. His retrieval team had been the ones to get it back to the Alpha Persei cluster and was imperative in stopping the first wave of attacks. It felt to Chase like even the corridors had received a fresh coat of paint; it had that new starship smell.
He walked to the outer docking port where the Cortez had come alongside them. There had not been time for full dress uniform, but given the current situation, he didn’t think that would be a problem. Wokoma and the bridge crew stood to his right, and a midshipman blew a boatswain’s whistle as the airlock cycled. The door opened with a slide to the left, revealing the stern face of Fleet Admiral Harris, the former commander of the cluster shipyards at Caelus IV.
“Commander Chase, good to see you,” the Admiral said, returning the salute and shaking his hand.
“Likewise, Admiral,” Chase replied.
“They’ve done excellent work with the Trafalgar,” said Harris.
“That they have, sir. We’re all very pleased.”
Harris stepped down the line, greeting the rest of the command crew. He was followed out of the airlock by Trafalgar’s captain, Celia Harding.
“Commander Chase,” Harding said cooly.
“Ma’am,” Chase nodded. “Good to have you back.”
“Good to see you again,” she replied.
Harding had commanded the expedition to locate the Trafalgar. She was part of the civilian archaeological firm and had been put in charge of the team of military engineers that Chase was assigned to. They had butted heads frequently, seeing things differently.
Harris had reached the end of the line of staff and turned around, nodding for Chase to walk with him.
“Let’s go to the conference room,” he said.
***
They sat down, Harris at the head of the table, Chase and Harding on either side. She looked at him with resting bitch face. He tried to present warmth but was coming up short.
“You will be aware of the events at Caelus IV,” said Harris.
Every civilian feed had gone to breaking news. The largest fleet sent by Earth’s Navy was wiped out in less than an hour.
“Of course,” replied Chase.
“Luckily, I was on the Cortez,” said Harris, “which now leaves me as the ranking officer in the cluster. I’ve managed to contact Earth, and they have agreed with my decision to hold out as long as possible.”
Chase had no idea what that meant. They had lost so many ships, so many lives in the past few weeks, that with all the will in the world, the logistics of fighting were simply not there.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“We need a war of attrition,” said Chase.
Harris looked at him sympathetically. “No, we need to keep things defensive.”
“The Navy has very few ships left,” said the Admiral. Chase knew they had taken serious losses with the shipyard, where there had been dozens of ships assembled, but it still felt untrue.
“Adding to the loss of our shipyard and Marengo station, we will essentially be dealing with mere anarchy in the across cluster,” said Harris. “Logistically, we cannot enforce the entire area.”
Chase had already heard rumours about pirate gangs and smugglers taking the law into their own hands.
“And if planets decide to secede, or they think they could install their own government,” said Harris, “then Earth doesn’t want us using our resources to stop that.”
“These are not facts we are currently advertising,” added Harding, who wasn’t exactly known for her dry wit.
“But of course, the immediate problem is the alien hostiles,” said Chase.
“Indeed,” said Harris, “and with that in mind, we are going to be putting the Trafalgar in defence of Mellotte II.”
Chase had not been expecting this.
“Sir, with respect, the Trafalgar’s unique abilities make her the prime ship to be used for offensive missions. We can get behind enemy lines and strike before they even know we are there, just like we did at Hemera.”
Harris thought about this for a moment. He’d clearly been expecting this.
“The Trafalgar’s abilities are exactly why we want to keep it as our ace in the hole. The ship needs to be our last line of defence if things go south.”
“Permission to speak freely?” asked Chase.
Harris held up a hand dismissively.
“The Trafalgar is a gem I will not lose for a second time,” said Harris.
Chase breathed deeply, trying to contain his anger. This was what things going south looked like. They needed a precision strike, and it needed to be done soon.
“And,” said Harris, “I am keeping Harding in command.”
Harding held Chase’s gaze. She didn’t exactly look smug, but neither did she look apologetic. Of course, at times of war, the Admiralty was more than entitled to place ships in charge of whomever they saw fit.
“Mr Chase, I think you’ve done an excellent job with the Trafalgar. However, I will be making some changes,” said Harding firmly.
“Yes, ma’am,” acknowledged Chase. He tried not to show his disdain for Harding, a hard-asked, no-nonsense civilian leader who showed more concern for the ship she was recovering on her last mission together than she did for her people.
“I will assist you to my best abilities,” said Chase.
“Of course you will,” retorted Harding,
“Captain Harding will take the Trafalgar to Mellotte II and take up a defensive position. You will also be responsible for overseeing the rule of law should the need arise,” said Harris.
“Could I just ask,” said Chase, “what is our plan to take the fight to the enemy?”
Harding glared at him disapprovingly.
“Commander Chase, we do not know where the enemy is based,” The Fleet Admiral replied calmly. “They have made strikes against us without warning. If we knew where they were, we would take it to them, but as it is, we don’t. Gaining strategic information is our current highest priority.”
Chase was stunned. He sat in silence and waited to be dismissed. This was an apocalyptic state of affairs. Chase wanted to be on the front lines. The fact they had so few ships was exactly the reason that he should take the Trafalgar and use its unique abilities to get the job done. Harris was still thinking like they were still in the old world. An outdated way of thinking that would get everyone killed. But this was the Navy. You followed orders.
Chase knew this.
He found himself thinking of Grace Dakota, where she had gone and what she was finding herself in the middle of. The war was not going well. Perhaps there would be something to turn the tide. Chase didn’t know. He would do what he was ordered until those orders changed. However, that was the job.
“Thank you both,” said Harris, dismissing Harding and Chase.
They stood and saluted before they made their way to the bridge.