Bleak stood watching the figure on the bed, the steady rise and fall of the chest. Beneath closed lids the eyes were flickering, the man was dreaming. He wondered what about. The professor handed Bleak a data cube. ‘So how did you get hold of him?’ Bleak asked still staring at the man he presumed he was to become.
General Niias answered from behind Bleak. ‘Admiral Koerreg’s flagship was badly damaged, the port side batteries were completely destroyed. However a few escape pods did manage to leave as the admiral and the rest of the rebel’s rabble navy fled. We picked them up and among them was Captain Davidov Nathanial, the admiral’s nephew.’
‘Injuries?’
‘Minor,’ the professor answered. ‘A few broken ribs from the ejection, which we’ve already healed. The rest superficial.’
Bleak glanced across at the professor. ‘Then why is he…’ he pointed towards the captain.
The general coughed. ‘I wanted him kept that way.’ Bleak looked back over his shoulder, but the general offered no further explanation.
Bleak turned. ‘And how does he return?’
The general grinned. ‘They’ve asked for a prisoner exchange and I’ve decided to grant it.’
‘Why?’
‘Why have they asked, or why have I granted it?’
‘Both.’ The general paused as if weighing how much to tell him. Bleak frowned and shook his head. ‘General, the more you give me the more convincing I can be.’
The general took a deep breath. ‘One reason they’ve asked is simply that he is the Admiral’s nephew, not that they’ve said as much of course. Also, most of them either don’t believe in, or can’t afford back-up clones…’
‘So why agree?’
‘Oh, I’m not a complete bastard you know.’ The general paused to smile at the implied joke.
Oh, I think you are, Bleak thought. ‘And?’
‘It’s good PR.’ The general waved an arm in the air. ‘A magnanimous gesture. The Confederation showing it still cares for its citizens even if they are a load rebellious ingrates. It also plays well at home and might just weaken their support a little. I have made them promise not to return them to active service, not that I expect them to keep to that promise of course. But, then again, most of them are not in a fit state.’
Bleak studied the man in the bed again. ‘Except for the Captain here.’
‘Exactly.’
Five days later Bleak was cuffed and sitting in the brig of a cutter heading into the declared temporary neutral zone. In another room were thirteen other, more seriously injured, rebels. Many of their injuries could have been treated by the general’s surgeons. Instead he’d ordered that they be kept stable and nothing more. Yes, you really are a total bastard, thought Bleak. Beside him was a young Lieutenant, his arm in a crude splint and strapped across his chest. Two others of the walking wounded sat opposite.
‘We wondered what they were doing with you, Captain.’ The lieutenant said.
Bleak shook his head. ‘Nothing it seems apart from keeping me sedated.’
‘Why? Do you think they were playing with your mind?’
Bleak shrugged and sucked his bottom lip. ‘I don’t think so. And anyway what could they learn from me? I maybe his nephew but he confides nothing to me. Why would he?’
The lieutenant nodded. ‘You got away lightly, Captain.’
‘As did you, Lieutenant, compared to those poor bastards back there.’
The lieutenant glanced behind him as if he could see his comrades through the walls. ‘Yes, Sir.’
Bleak closed his eyes and lent his head back against the bulkhead to indicate their conversation was over.
As the rebel cutter docked with the larger transport the Admiral Koerreg was there to greet his nephew. Bleak saluted. ‘Isn’t this a risk, Admiral? If they knew you were here…’
The admiral smiled. ‘And how would they know that. Anyway, I don’t think even that bastard Niias would fire on an unarmed shuttle that was carrying the injured prisoners he’d just exchanged. Wouldn’t play well in the Legislature would it?’
‘I suppose not, Sir,’ Bleak said.
The admiral put a hand on Bleak’s shoulder. ‘Well, I’m glad to see you back in one piece, my boy. Perhaps my sister will speak to me again now. They treat you well?’
Bleak nodded. ‘Better than some, he said as the first of the gravistretchers floated past. ‘It seems their hospitality had its limits.’ He could see the tightness in the admiral’s jaw as he laid a hand on the arm of one of the men who was half conscious.
‘We’ll do what we can for them,’ the admiral said. ‘What about you? They made us promise you wouldn’t return to active duty.’
‘To hell with that,’ Bleak said.
The admiral grinned. ‘My thoughts exactly. And at the moment we need every seasoned officer we have. They’re now sending me half trained kids.’
‘But we can still win, Admiral?’ Bleak asked.
The admiral shrugged. Bleak could see in the man’s eyes that he didn’t believe they could. Neither did Bleak, nor he suspected did the captain.
After two days in the medical unit Bleak discharged himself and re-joined the admiral’s battered flagship, which was undergoing hasty repairs. The admiral had released some of his staff officers to take up more senior posts on other ships, officers with experience were a dwindling commodity and all ships were undermanned. Captain Nathanial was promoted to acting lieutenant commander and transferred from the port battery to bridge command. While the admiral ran the battle he would be in charge of the ship. However, his first duty, as it was for all the experienced crew, was to train the new, green recruits, in the hope that they wouldn’t panic at the first sign of action. For Bleak this meant using the captain’s considerable experience of active duty to train the new port battery crew. And that meant simulations as the repairs were nowhere near complete. This was a blessing for Bleak, as despite the captain’s knowledge and memories when it came to putting theory into practice he needed the sim time as much as anyone. However, the recruits were so inexperienced that if there were deficiencies in his capabilities they weren’t going to notice.
A week later The Independence was patched up as best they could, given the limited resources of the rebel shipyard. The fleet now left to take part in full scale training trials. Within two days one ship had been lost in jump transition as its core stability catastrophically failed and the forces of time and space tore the vessel apart. Over the next few days five more limped back with critical systems failures. Twelve others needed ongoing attention to bring them up to minimally acceptable battle operational status.
Four days later Bleak sat in the admiral’s conference room with the commanders of what remained of the rebel fleet.
Bleak watched as the admiral’s gaze travelled around the table occasionally pausing for a second or two on a young face. A face that was, even Bleak could recognise, too inexperienced to carry the responsibilities that had been thrust upon it. The faces of men that had been promoted out of necessity. He could see the doubt, the weight of that responsibility in their eyes, and these were only training manoeuvres.
The admiral cleared his throat. ‘Gentlemen, intelligence tells us that the Confederation fleet are reforming and they are expected to leave within days. That means that even if we return now we’ll have a bare week to finalise any repairs that are still needed.’
‘Sir?’
‘Yes, commander?’
‘Sir, that’s… that’s too soon. The men, sir, some of them have never seen action before. They’re raw recruits. Three out of my six gun crews are barely functional.’ What Bleak could see etched into the lines under the youthful eyes were the fears that he didn’t voice, that he himself was too inexperienced for such a senior position. Throughout the manoeuvres the young commander had been hesitant, needing constant reminders of his orders, positioning and tactics.
The admiral glan
ced down for a second before looking across at Bleak and then back to his newly promoted officer. ‘And what would you suggest, Commander? That we ask them to wait until we’re ready?’
‘Sir, I didn’t mean… I’m sorry… I…’
The admiral waved away the apology, he knew the others were thinking the same. ‘I’m only surprised, Commander, that they’ve waited so long. Perhaps that’s testament to the bloody nose we gave them last time.’ This at least raised a few smiles. He looked away from the young officer to include all those around the table. ‘When we get back to base give the men an evening to themselves. But before that we drill them hard, then when they return we drill them again. They will be ready, understood?’ There were a few ‘Sirs,’ the rest simply nodded.
When they had all left to re-join their ships the admiral turned to Bleak. ‘Nothing to say, Commander?’
Bleak shrugged. ‘Some of them look defeated before we start, Sir.’
Admiral Koerreg nodded. ‘Then it’s our job to put some fight into them. In normal circumstances many of them would be years away from command, if ever. But we have to use the tools we have at hand, Commander. Also remember, Niias is not in a dissimilar position, although, I admit not as bad as us. Still, the last ten years has robbed him of some of his most able officers. What we need to do is come up with tactics that can expose their deficiencies while trying to shield our own as best we can.’
‘Sir,’ Bleak answered.
five