Starfist - Flashfire. Part 10

Closer, the chaff and flares weren't decoying the missiles closing in on the Kiowa. Kiowa.

"Close-in Fire Control. Do you have a solution on the two bogies coming at us?" Solwara asked into his comm.

"That's an affirmative. Ninety-four percent probability. Nearest approach in one hundred forty seconds." Two and a third minutes. He could wait until they were closer, to increase the probability of a first strike hit, but ninety-four was a very high percentage-the "book" said to fire when probability reached ninety-five percent, Solwara had been very conservative when he'd held fire for ninety-nine percent.

"Fire when probability reaches ninety-five, then prepare for another shot." "Fire at ninety-five and prepare for a second shot, aye." Target Delta was throwing chaff and flares, and trying to maneuver out of the way of the missiles from the Kiowa Kiowa and and Broward, Broward, but three missiles were ignoring the decoys and closing rapidly. One of their but three missiles were ignoring the decoys and closing rapidly. One of their icons suddenly became an X, struck by close-in fire, but the other two continued to close. A small cloud appeared on the display representing the Kiowa Kiowa's close-in fire. One of the bogies Xed out, but the other kept coming at the starship.

"Close-in, can you get it?" Solwara's calm voice showed nothing of the sudden anxiety he felt when the last Coalition missile made it through the fire from the close-in defensive guns. "Working on a solution," close-in Fire Control replied.

"Fire when ready." "Firing," close-in Fire Control reported seconds later. Solwara felt the tremors sent through the ship by the firing of the close-in guns. On the display, he saw the cloud indicating the defensive pellets rapidly approaching the missile icon-and pa.s.s by it without the icon X-ing out.

"Stand by for impact!" the captain said sharply, and made sure he was properly strapped into his command chair. Throughout the Kiowa, Kiowa, klaxons blared a warning, then the same female voice that earlier had announced general quarters began a countdown to impact. The main display whited out when the missile hit, and the warship staggered. Reports immediately began coming in from Damage Control. klaxons blared a warning, then the same female voice that earlier had announced general quarters began a countdown to impact. The main display whited out when the missile hit, and the warship staggered. Reports immediately began coming in from Damage Control.

The missile hit on the aft port quarter. Initial reports indicated that the inner hull wasn't breeched, though several bulkheads were buckled. Well-drilled Damage Control teams immediately headed to deal with the damage.

"Sir," the officer of the deck reported, "steering has been affected. The aft port vernier isn't responding to the helm."

"Do we have any steerage?" Solwara asked. "Yessir. The other steering jets don't seem to be affected. We can compensate, but turns won't be as sharp as usual."

"Understood." Solwara returned his attention to the main display while he waited for the chief-of-ship to report with details of the damage to the aft port quarter.

The icon for Target Delta had changed to a pulsing red circle. Admiral Hoi's CIC again came on, first with a request for a damage report, then instructions to engage Target Eta when ready. Solwara transmitted the damage a.s.sessment data he had and instructed that updates be copied to the Admiral's CIC, then asked if Main Fire Control had a solution for Target Eta.

"Yessir, battery three is ready to fire." "Fire battery three. Acquire solution for battery one on Target Eta."

"Fire battery three, aye. Acquire solution to fire battery one on Target Eta, aye," Main Fire Control replied.

"Skipper, I have a damage a.s.sessment," Chief-of-Ship Groene came on.

"Give it to me, Chief."

"We've got five panels of the outer hull blown out." The chief transmitted the detailed data to the captain's console. "Aft port vernier is totally missing. Inner hull is badly buckled next to engine room three. A Damage Control team is working to sh.o.r.e it up, but the bulkhead could bust free at any minute. Request permission to order the engines shut down and the compartment evacuated."

Shutting down the engine would reduce the Kiowa Kiowa's maximum velocity, but not evacuating the engine room would jeopardize the lives of crewmen in it. On the other hand, losing the power from engine room three, combined with the reduced maneuverability from the loss of the steering jet could jeopardize the entire ship and all hands.

Solwara delayed making a decision by asking, "How long to replace the vernier?"

"Well, we have to replace four struts before there's a firm base for the jet, and run tubing and cables from the nearest junctions. I've got a good crew on each of those jobs now. About twenty, twenty-five minutes to complete those jobs. Then another twenty to mount a new jet-longer if we have to wait for the replacement to arrive. That's a.s.suming the inner hull doesn't blow."

"You'll have the vernier in time. How long to sh.o.r.e up that bulkhead?"

"That's harder to tell. Every time we get one part secured, a bulge opens somewhere else on the inner hull. I'm thinking an hour before we can begin to breathe easy and just pay attention to repairing the damage."

Solwara thought hard for a few seconds, then told Chief Groene, "I'll have the engine room crew get into vacuum suits and evacuate the atmosphere."

"Sir, you realize the engine room crew can't work as well in vacuum suits. And the vacuum might damage some components of the engine."

"I know that, Chief. But reduced function and the possibility of future damage are preferable to losing the engine altogether in the middle of a battle. Do your best, Chief. That's why you make the big creds."

"Aye aye, sir."

Solwara breathed a bit easier, the damage was not as bad as he'd feared. The missile that hit the Kiowa Kiowa must have been damaged by the close-in gunfire; it should have been able to penetrate the outer hull and maybe the inner before it detonated, but its warhead had exploded just inside the outer hull. A big portion of the outer hull was destroyed, and steering was damaged, but the inner hull wasn't breached -yet. He got on his tube to the chief engineer and told him to suit up the crew in engine room three and pump the air out. The chief engineer didn't like it any more than the chief-of-ship had, but agreed with the captain's reasoning. must have been damaged by the close-in gunfire; it should have been able to penetrate the outer hull and maybe the inner before it detonated, but its warhead had exploded just inside the outer hull. A big portion of the outer hull was destroyed, and steering was damaged, but the inner hull wasn't breached -yet. He got on his tube to the chief engineer and told him to suit up the crew in engine room three and pump the air out. The chief engineer didn't like it any more than the chief-of-ship had, but agreed with the captain's reasoning.

That emergency dealt with, Solwara returned his attention to the battle. The dreadnought had taken four hits and was slowly turning away without engaging any of the starships in Task Force 79. A task force destroyer, the Jerseymann, Jerseymann, was dead. So were two of the Coalition's fast frigates and another of its cruisers. The other ships of the Coalition fleet were turning about and heading north or south, presumably to where they could jump into Beams.p.a.ce. was dead. So were two of the Coalition's fast frigates and another of its cruisers. The other ships of the Coalition fleet were turning about and heading north or south, presumably to where they could jump into Beams.p.a.ce.

The 27th Division landed without opposition. Like the Confederation Marines, they made a combat a.s.sault landing-straight down from orbit. Unlike the Marines, they made planetfall on land. Major General Cazombi greeted them with considerable relief, and quickly integrated them into his defensive scheme.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

The company didn't ace the battalion commander's inspection, though they came close. But then Commander van Winkle and his staff weren't as tough as First Sergeant Myer had been in the company commander's inspection. The clerical section almost pa.s.sed, so Top Myer didn't have enough reason to convince Captain Conorado to cancel liberty for everybody for the entire week until the FIST pre-IG.

In fact, the Top was highly chagrined when the only gig given during the FIST pre-IG was to the command section, when Captain Tamara, the a.s.sistant F2, FIST intelligence, found a forgotten, half-smoked stogie in a drawer of the first sergeant's desk. There were only two other gigs in the rest of the company, gigs minor enough that the IG inspectors might pa.s.s over them.

The Marines were given base liberty the rest of the week, and sh.o.r.e liberty from the end of Fifth Day to eight hours on Seventh Day, when they had to be back to take care of last-minute details.

Lieutenant General Himan Xintoe, Inspector General of the Confederation Marine Corps, arrived on a navy VIP corsair, the CNSS Thresher, Thresher, and made planetfall directly onto Camp Major Pete Ellis's Boynton Field four days before his scheduled inspection of the FIST units. After a brief meeting with Brigadier Sturgeon, he paid a courtesy call on Rear Admiral Blankenvoort, the commander of the navy supply depot that had been the initial reason for the presence of Marines on Thorsfinni's World. Xintoe and Blankenvoort were entertained that evening by Brigadier Sturgeon in the FIST commander's home. Xintoe and his staff commenced their inspection of the FIST headquarters the next morning. and made planetfall directly onto Camp Major Pete Ellis's Boynton Field four days before his scheduled inspection of the FIST units. After a brief meeting with Brigadier Sturgeon, he paid a courtesy call on Rear Admiral Blankenvoort, the commander of the navy supply depot that had been the initial reason for the presence of Marines on Thorsfinni's World. Xintoe and Blankenvoort were entertained that evening by Brigadier Sturgeon in the FIST commander's home. Xintoe and his staff commenced their inspection of the FIST headquarters the next morning.

Another navy starship arrived early on General Xintoe's third full day planetside, bearing a full colonel carrying an urgent message for Brigadier Sturgeon. Sturgeon read the message through once, then handed it to Xintoe. Xintoe read it, then handed it back without comment.

Sturgeon gave the orders to his chief of staff, Colonel Ramadan, and said, "Read this, then a.s.semble the major element commanders, their XOs and sergeants major, along with my major staff, and the Whiskey Company commander. Don't tell anybody why I want to see them."

Ramadan quickly skimmed the doc.u.ment and caught his breath before replying, "Aye aye, sir. Is twenty minutes soon enough?"

"Yes."

Whiskey Company, a catch-unit normally pieced together under dire circ.u.mstances in the field, also often called "cooks and bakers," was comprised of clerks, truck drivers and mechanics, and other noncombat personnel. Except that 34th FIST's Whiskey Company wasn't a catch-unit. Following 34th FIST's return from the Kingdom Campaign, then-a.s.sistant Commandant of the Marine Corps Anders Aguinaldo pulled some highly unofficial strings to a.s.sign an additional 118 Marines to 34th FIST to serve as on-hand replacements when it had heavy action and consequent losses.

Thirty-fourth FIST had a lot lot of deployments, and suffered heavier casualties than any other expeditionary unit in the Corps. of deployments, and suffered heavier casualties than any other expeditionary unit in the Corps.

Lieutenant General Xintoe looked on expressionlessly. When Ramadan left to summon the major element commanders and other people to the meeting, he asked somberly, "May I attend your meeting?"

An hour later, all the company commanders and first sergeants of the infantry battalion and other major elements were summoned to commander's meetings at their own headquarters. An hour after that, Marines throughout the FIST were surprised to be called to company formations.

The Marines of Company L stood at silent attention in their ranks behind the barracks. They all had the same thought on their minds: "What's this about? We know what's happening tomorrow. A formation now is only wasting time we should be spending on final prep for the IG."

When Top Myer came out of the barracks with Captain Conorado and the other company officers, many of the Marines got a sinking feeling in their guts-the first sergeant never never attended a company formation unless it was something big, really big. attended a company formation unless it was something big, really big.

Captain Conorado looked somber when he took his position in front of the company. His eyes swept the company quickly, then he said in a strong voice, "There's been a change of plans. There will not be an IG inspection tomorrow. Instead, we will be boarding the SAT Lance Corporal Keith Lopez, Lance Corporal Keith Lopez, which is in orbit now. We have a deployment. The brigadier has granted sh.o.r.e liberty to the entire FIST until eight hours tomorrow morning. At that time I will brief you on what I have been able to find out." which is in orbit now. We have a deployment. The brigadier has granted sh.o.r.e liberty to the entire FIST until eight hours tomorrow morning. At that time I will brief you on what I have been able to find out."

Conorado looked over his company, drew in a chestful of air, and called out, "That is all. COMP-ney, dis-MISSED!"

He stood in place, watching his Marines racing back into the barracks to change into their liberty clothes.

"I wonder how many holes we'll have in the formation when we next a.s.semble here," he said quietly when his Marines were inside.

"I don't know," Myer replied, just as quietly.

Gunnery Sergeant Thatcher merely shook his head. He'd already been briefed on where they were going, and didn't like it at all. Like the other two, he'd noted the expressions of concern on the faces of some of the Marines. A one-day notice for a deployment was highly unusual, and sh.o.r.e liberty the night before was virtually unheard of. The more experienced Marines, those with the most concerned expressions, realized they were in for something very very big. big.

General Xintoe had quietly approved of Brigadier Sturgeon's decision to sound liberty call for his Marines. Xintoe understood that it would be a long time before any of them had another opportunity- for some of them, it would be their last opportunity.

"What is this bulls.h.i.t?" Lance Corporal MacIlargie yelled once third platoon was back in its squadbay. "I busted my hump for this IG, and now it's been called off?" He wasn't experienced enough to understand the significance of a last-minute cancellation of an inspector general's inspection.

"Dumb guy," Corporal Claypoole snarled, whapping the back of MacIlargie's head. He didn't fully understand the significance either, but he could make an educated guess.

It was the kind of dumb question Lance Corporal Schultz would normally let pa.s.s with nothing more than a quick you're-too-dumb-to-live look. But Schultz was experienced enough to know exactly exactly what the cancellation meant. He whapped MacIlargie upside the head much harder than Claypoole had and sent the other man sprawling. what the cancellation meant. He whapped MacIlargie upside the head much harder than Claypoole had and sent the other man sprawling.

"Hey!" MacIlargie shouted as he bounded back to his feet. He swung his fist before he realized who he was swinging at and was horrified when he saw he was about to hit. He twisted violently to avoid hitting Schultz and crashed back to the floor.

Schultz briefly looked down at MacIlargie with a quick you're-too-dumb-to-live look, then disappeared into the fire team room.

The squad leaders paused above MacIlargie's sprawled form and looked disdainfully down on him. Sergeant Linsman shook his head and said, "Wolfman, you really are are too dumb to live," then led Sergeants Ratliff and Kelly to the room they shared. too dumb to live," then led Sergeants Ratliff and Kelly to the room they shared.

MacIlargie looked around at the Marines in the corridor; many of them weren't very successful at hiding their snickers at his situation.

"What'd I do that's so d.a.m.n dumb?" he demanded, then, with as much dignity as he could muster, climbed to his feet and walked to his fire team's room. Claypoole made a show of ignoring him. Schultz behaved as though nothing was amiss, so much so that MacIlargie felt he may as well not have come into the room.

On their last night before deploying, the Marines of second squad occupied a corner table in the main room at Big Barb's-and they weren't alone. Frieda and Gotta were in their usual positions, bookending Corporal Kerr. Corporal Claypoole still didn't get the significance of the way Jente kept looking at him from where she sat pressed against his side. Kone, a new girl, flirted outrageously with Corporal Chan and giggled at everything he said.

When she finished serving a round of steins of Reindeer Ale, Talulah plopped herself on Sergeant Linsman's knee and announced, "Somebody else can take the food orders, I'm with the squad's boss tonight!"

"What do you mean? You've got floor duty!" Skoge objected-she simply wasn't wasn't going to leave the side of Lance Corporal Zumwald. going to leave the side of Lance Corporal Zumwald.

"I mean I'm with the boss, so I'm exempt," Talulah said with a haughty toss of her head.

"Now, now, ladies," Linsman said before Skoge or any of the others could interrupt. "This is our last night before we deploy. I think the fairest thing might be for you to take turns being waitress for us. After all, none of us wants his girl to be too busy to keep him company tonight."

Eight of the nine women at the table-it was a very big big table-gave Talulah dirty looks, but none of them objected. table-gave Talulah dirty looks, but none of them objected.

Ten Marines and nine women, of whom Kerr had two. Only Corporal Doyle and Lance Corporal Schultz were unattended.

"How come you didn't tell us you were leaving earlier?" Frieda asked. "I thought you were having some kind of big inspection."

"And you just got back from a deployment!" Jente added.

"We didn't tell you because we didn't know ourselves until just a couple of hours ago," Linsman replied.

"That's not fair!" Gotta cried.

Kerr almost dislodged her when he shrugged. "n.o.body ever said the Marine Corps is fair."

"Not the way it treats us peons," PFC Fisher agreed.

"You're lucky my hands are occupied," Chan said, "or I'd put you on the deck like Hammer did to Wolfman." He hefted the stein he held in one hand-the other was wrapped around Kone's waist. MacIlargie didn't say anything, but his face turned bright red. "What did that nasty Hammer do to you, Wolfie?" Meisge asked, gently kissing MacIlargie's scarlet cheek. "Didn't do nothing," MacIlargie croaked with a curt shake of his head. He shot an if-looks-could-kill at Chan. Fortunately, n.o.body else wanted to explain why Schultz had whapped MacIlargie upside the head hard enough to send him sprawling; it was something they didn't want to think about that night. After a bit, Gotta took everybody's dinner order and got up to take the order slip to the kitchen. She was almost through the kitchen door on her way back when she was nearly trampled by Einna Orafem, who stormed out behind her. Einna ignored the hoots and catcalls aimed at her, and the questing hands that reached to pat or pinch her nether regions as she headed for the corner table. Hands tightly clenched, red spots on her cheeks so dark they were almost purple, she stomped to a halt and loomed over Schultz. "You were going to leave on a deployment without saying good-bye, or even telling me?" Her voice got more shrill with each word. Schultz stared up at her, dumbfounded. Silence fell over the table and the surrounding tables-n.o.body had ever seen Schultz look so shocked and lost. "I-I . . ." Schultz had no idea what came after "I." "That's all you can say, 'I'?" The corner of Einna's eye glistened, then a tear oozed out to slide down her cheek.

Hesitantly, Schultz raised a hand and, with a gentler touch than any of the watching Marines could have imagined, brushed the tear away. "I didn't know-I didn't think . . ." "That's right, you didn't think," she said huskily. He went to lower his hand, but she grasped it and held it against her cheek. "You're the only one who hasn't treated me like some floozy, the only one who's treated me with respect. Don't you dare dare go away without saying good-bye." go away without saying good-bye."

She released his hand and started to leave, then turned back and half whispered, "I get off work in two hours. Come to the kitchen then. And don't be drunk." Unlike her furious rush from the kitchen, Einna returned in a stately march. A well of utter silence surrounded her-n.o.body had antic.i.p.ated what had just happened but had antic.i.p.ated what had just happened but everybody everybody knew that they risked knew that they risked the wrath of Hammer Schultz if they said or did anything to Einna Orafem. When the kitchen door closed behind Big Barb's chef, heads slowly swiveled and all eyes focused on Schultz. But n.o.body dared say anything for a long, uncomfortable moment.

Finally, Kerr cleared his throat and said softly, "Looks like Hammer's got himself a girlfriend." Half the Marines of second squad slowly turned their heads to look at Kerr, aghast at his temerity.

About as many of the girls with them also looked at Kerr. Everybody else kept wary watch on Schultz, and did their best to un.o.btrusively ease out of his way. But Schultz's only visible reaction was involuntary-the bronze of his face grew darker.

After another silent moment, Gotta, who had made it back to the table while Einna was confronting Schultz but hadn't resumed her position next to Kerr, said, "That's nice for Hammer. But her her?"

She jumped and scampered to the presumed protection of Kerr's side when Schultz growled, "Drop it."

It took a little while for tensions at second squad's table to ease, but when they did, merriment reigned once more, fueled by plentiful ale and food-with a special dish for Schultz.

At the end of the appointed two hours, Schultz stood without a word and marched to the kitchen. He wasn't seen again until the next morning, when he was the last man to make formation. He came straight from town and didn't have time to change into a fresh uniform; n.o.body had seen him so rumpled in garrison before. His face, as usual, bore no expression, but there was something very satisfied in his att.i.tude.

n.o.body asked him any questions about where he'd gone or what had happened after he disappeared into the kitchen.

Captain Conorado sat in his office, the door closed. He wasn't looking forward to the conversation he'd have that evening with his wife. He knew Marta would take the news of another deployment with philosophical resignation. She'd been through enough of them, not enough to be used to her husband going off to war, but enough to be inured to the inevitable separations marriage to an officer of Marines imposed on her.

All Marines must be prepared for instantaneous deployment, gear packed, personal affairs in order, and girlfriends, families, creditors, etc., fully aware that Marines had less notice of a deployment order than firemen that someone's house was ablaze, and Marines had to react just as quickly.

When a deployment was called, families were notified after the fact by an officerNCO team, Marines staying behind for nondisciplinary reasons. It was hard duty because often families, especially young spouses and their children, did not take the news lightly; it was hard on the notifiers too, because it meant they had to stay behind while their comrades went off in harm's way. Deployment notification duty was considered the second worst in the Corps, the worst being casualty notification.

Conorado's heart sank as he thought that, once again, someone Marta didn't know would come knocking on her door to tell her she would be alone. After that, she'd be in constant dread of another knock on the door, one with a chaplain on the other side. As he was contemplating that and other morose thoughts, Owen the Woo hopped lightly onto the edge of Conorado's desk. "You are sad, Skipper," the creature remarked.

"Oh, Owen, old buddy!" Conorado laughed and held out a finger. Owen sat there, his huge, bulbous eyes staring unblinkingly at Conorado, like some old man staring at him through oversized spectacles. The cilia on the top of the Woo's head waved back and forth slightly, like the few remaining strands of hair on a bald man's pate in a gentle breeze. Owen took Conorado's fingers between his talons and squeezed gently. "Yeah, another deployment," the captain answered. "We leave in a few minutes. I was just in here making sure I had everything . . ." he gestured at his equipment, leaving the sentence unfinished.

"I thought as much. You've gone on too many deployments since I've been with you. I suppose this will be another difficult one and I shall stay behind this time?"

"I'm afraid so, old friend. Now don't you go around telling everybody before we get underway," Conorado smiled weakly. That Owen could communicate with humans was a secret Conorado had kept well; he'd never forget that scientist on Avionia Station who had wanted to dissect the creature.