Six
September 2251

Tarbos – Fleet Spacedock

Four ships, the last remnants of a beat-up Task Force, sat smoking and battered in the Tarbos Fleet spacedock.  The Orleans was the last to arrive, and the first man off the battered ship was Rear Admiral Isaac Gauss, on his way to brief an unhappy Fleet Admiral.

He had the unhappy feeling that his career was in much the same condition as his flagship.

The Dock debarking level was sixteen decks outward, ‘below’ the Fleet headquarters.  Since the Dock still depended on the rotation of the massive main disk to provide gravity, Gauss and his aide had to find a lift to take them up to Deck Four, where the Fleet Headquarters staff worked in a comfortable two-thirds gee.  When the lift arrived, Captain Jensen waited for the Admiral to enter, as protocol required, before stepping in and pushing the contact for Deck Four.  Both men stood watching the numbers over the door slide slowly upwards towards Four as the lift ascended.

“This isn’t going to be pretty, Jerry.”

“Probably not, sir.”

Admiral Gauss rocked back and forth on his heels, silently, strangely calm, as he had been since shortly after the battle.

“There we are, Deck Four.  Ready to face the wolves, Captain Jensen?”

“I’ve got your six, sir.  Let’s do it.”

“You’re a good man, Jerry.”

The two officers strode into the Flag office as though they were boarding an enemy ship.  Admiral Gauss walked directly to the Chief Petty Officer manning the front desk and announced, “Rear Admiral Gauss and Captain Jensen to see Fleet Admiral Kosake.”

The gray-haired CPO looked up at Gauss’ stern visage and said in a low voice, “Go on in, sir, I’ll buzz you through.”

A tone sounded, and a panel door behind the desk slid open.  Gauss strode through the door, followed closely by his aide.

Fleet Admiral Minoru Kosake sat behind an expansive desk of polished Tarbosian blackwood.  On the wall behind him was a map of the Confederacy, and on his desk a small, polished metal model of the Orleans.  The office was large, but Spartan in its appointments, and with good reason; the office of Fleet Admiral had been created less than a year earlier.

“Rear Admiral Isaac Gauss reports as ordered, sir.”  Gauss stood at attention, saluted.  Still seated, the Fleet Admiral returned the salute, a little too casually.  Gauss’ mouth turned down in a slight frown.

“Sit down, Admiral Gauss.  Captain, you too, have a seat.”  The two officers sat down.  Fleet Admiral Kosake ruffled through some papers, took off his glasses and cleaned them, and stared at his desktop for a moment before speaking again.

“Well, gentlemen.  We’ve had a hard time these last few weeks, haven’t we?  Yes, a very hard time indeed.”  Kosake stood up and turned to face the wall map.  Gauss turned to give Captain Jensen a puzzled look; his lips silently traced a question: We?

Jensen just shook his head. 

“It would appear that the New Albion system is in some contention,” Admiral Kosake continued. “The presence of our armed ships in the area may have provoked the attack.”

“Provoked, sir?”  Admiral Gauss’ mouth hung open.

“Yes, that’s the question at hand.  Senator Galloway claims that New Albion is too close to the Grugell border; he thinks we should limit our expansion in that direction, perhaps abandon that colony.”

“Abandon New Albion?”

“Yes, possibly.  Unless we can negotiate something with the Grugell.  I understand that Senator Galloway is pushing to open diplomatic relations with…”

Gauss came halfway out of his chair, unable to contain himself any longer.  “With all due respect, sir, what the fuck are you talking about?  Negotiate?  Abandon a colony?  One of the original thirteen Confederate worlds?  I’ll be God-damned if we abandon a colony – we’ve got over five hundred killed and twice that many wounded from an unprovoked attack, and Senator Galloway wants to surrender a planet to those bastards?”

“Admiral Gauss!” Kosake snapped, finally showing a little animation.  “Do I have to remind you that we do not make policy?  The President and the Congress make policy; we only carry it out.  You know that, do you not?”

“I know that, sir, sure as I know that the President listens to her Fleet officers.  You most of all, sir.  Please don’t tell me you’re buying into this appeasement horseshit?”

“Mind your tone, Admiral.  I’m not buying into or advocating anything.  I’m merely discussing alternative views.  Now, as to the attack on your Task Group, I would hope we have learned some valuable lessons in that engagement.  I’ve read your report, but I’d like to hear your impressions directly.”

“Well, sir, my direct impression is that we were not prepared, and we had our asses handed to us.  Captain Jensen, if you would?” 

Captain Jensen extracted a small silver disk from his jacket pocket and pressed a stud; a holographic display of the deployed Orleans Task Force swam into midair.

“Sir,” Jensen narrated the unfolding display in a monotone, “You can see that here, at the beginning of the exercise, the Orleans was here, escorted by the Ian Mac Vie.  The Mountain View and the Farragut were a hundred and eighty kilometers below the flagship’s keel.  The Dallas and the Reuben James popped out of subspace here,” he pointed at three new blue symbols beneath the Mountain View, “to simulate an attack.  Less than ten seconds later, before the flagship even detected them, four Grugell ships – a heavy cruiser, a light cruiser, and two frigates, from the sizes – popped through above the flagship on this axis.”  Four red symbols appeared.  “Four more came through to the flagship’s stern, this group with two light cruisers and two frigates.  It was this cruiser that fired first on the flagship…” As the hologram unfolded, Captain Jensen calmly explained every detail of the debacle.

Great jumping Christ.  The whole thing lasted less than thirty minutes.  Gauss had seen the run-through four times, and the same thought occurred to him each time.

“…and the Orleans was the last ship to transit to subspace.  That concludes our available data.”  He sat down.

“Well.”  Admiral Kosake sat down, picked up a piece of paper, stared at it for a moment. “Yes.  Well, that was certainly a bad day for the Navy.  Admiral Gauss, what recommendations have you to prevent a repeat of this incident?”

“Sir, I’ll tell you exactly what we need to do.  First of all, full combat load-outs for all ships.  We ran out of missiles too soon in that engagement, and we’ve learned that particle beams aren’t enough when you’re dealing with capital ships.  Second, we need to put standing patrols near the border planets, New Albion especially.  The Mountain View and at least one other ship should be tasked to that system; we already know that the Grugell are operating in that area, and the one advantage we have is that they don’t seem to be able to track something as small as a strike fighter.  That won’t last long, though.  They lost one ship to Shrikes launched from the Mountain View’s fighters, and they won’t take long figuring a way to counter that threat.

“Finally, sir, we need more ships.  We could use ten more like the Orleans.”

Admiral Kosake sat staring at the ceiling.

Gauss looked at Captain Jensen.  Jensen shrugged.

“Thank you for coming in, Admiral Gauss,” the Fleet Admiral said at last.  “I’ll review all of the data you’ve provided and speak to you again.  I’m sure you’ve got plenty to do, so I won’t keep you any longer.  Dismissed.”

In the elevator, bound once more for the Dock levels, Captain Jensen finally broke the silence.  “Sir, is it just me, or was that about the strangest ass-chewing I’ve ever sat through?”

“It sure as hell wasn’t what I expected, Jerry, but I only know Admiral Kosake by what little reputation he had in the Japanese Defense Force.  I do know one thing – we’ve got another problem that might hurt us as much as the Grugell fleet.”

“What’s that, sir?”

“A damned leadership vacuum, Jerry.  A Fleet Admiral that is a complete non-entity.  That big chair up there may as well be empty for all the good he’ll do us.”

“That’s what I was thinking, sir, not to disparage a Flag officer, but…” “I know, Jerry.  Keep it under your hat for now.  Fleet Admiral Kosake seems to be in this Senator Galloway’s pocket, but I know there’s at least one Senator that is on our side.”

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