Herzer opened his mouth to ask where in the hell he was supposed to find instructors but closed it. Edmund clearly didn’t have time to deal with pro forma protests.
“I want Van Krief,” was all he said.
“You’ve got her,” Edmund replied. “Find somebody to ramrod it for you by the time the fleet is ready to sail. Shar’s going to be in command but I want you out there, too. Oh, and a training facility for the marines as well.”
“I’ll need personnel from the fleet,” Herzer pointed out. “And they’re not going to want to release them. I’ll need good personnel from the fleet. And dragon-rider training as well, don’t forget that. And there should be personnel designated to handle the dragons; the riders have got enough on their plate. This is going to have to come under the Navy manning table. Bupers is going to have to approve the slots.”
“Come up with a list,” Edmund sighed. “I’ll handle Bupers. You just get the school started. Get going.”
“Hey, Shar,” Evan Mayerle said as he walked into the cramped office. “You wanted to see me?”
Shar’s desk was just about covered in paper and he was -reading a memo with a furious expression. It was clear that he was in dire need of killing someone. But he smiled at the engineer and waved to the sole spindly chair.
Evan Mayerle was of medium height, a brown-haired young man with bright blue eyes that were almost perpetually looking at something invisible. That was because he usually had his mind on three or more items other than whatever conversation he was engaged in. Chang knew that so he waved to get his attention.
“Focus for a minute,” the admiral said. “You’ve got a job in front of you.”
“I was thinking about the mess system on the Hazhir,” Evan replied. “I think we can rearrange it so thatÑ”
“Evan,” Chang said with a chuckle. “Focus.”
“Oh, right,” Evan said, looking at him and widening his eyes. “You called me here, didn’t you?”
“Right,” Shar replied. “Look, Edmund wants all the carriers upgraded to match the Hazhir. The shipyards can work on that while they’re doing the repair damage, right?”
“I suppose,” Evan temporized. “But putting in the refrigeration system will require tearing out some deck. Nothing that can’t be fixed but it’s at least a three-day job.”
“Get with the shipyard. Show them the changes. They already have the word that they’re going to be doing it. Expedite it. Focus on that, not more changes. We need them turned around fast.”
“What about the other fleet units?” Evan asked.
“If there’s time,” Shar replied. “I hope there’s time.”
The fleet was decidedly limping when it came in. The ships entered the harbor in a straggle, hooking off to their prescribed buoys in any old way. Patched sails, braided rigging, bright patches of new wood for which the ships had run out of paint all told the story of a group that was worn out. Out of morale, out of energy and out of patience.
The wyverns that could fly had already landed and Edmund had been there for their arrival. The wyvern “weyr” was a long series of sheds with a graveled area about a hundred meters across running the entire length. The edge of the graveled area had been lined with chunked up beef carcasses for their arrival and then the work parties had cleared the area with the exception of three handlers, drawn from the marines, for each wyvern. The marines, in full armor, had helped the riders get their gear stripped off the dragons before they were let loose on the carcasses. There had been a few fights and some of the wyverns were going to require medical attention, but with food in their bellies the half-wild dragons had calmed down and let themselves be led into their sheds.
And a good quarter of the meat was still lying out in the sun; less than a third of the wyverns that had sailed with the fleet had been capable of flying off.
Now Edmund watched as the carriers carefully jockeyed up to the piers. The dragons that hadn’t been able to fly off were in bad physical shape. He could only hope that with food and some medical attention they’d be fit to fight by the time the fleet sailed again. He had been calling for wyverns from across Norau, and they were trickling in in ones and twos. But the fleet had already drawn down the available population. He wasn’t sure he could fully man even the remnant that had straggled in.
Lighters with fresh food were moving out to the ships at anchor. The crews had been instructed to stand down and stay on board overnight. In the morning they’d be brought in with full assembly scheduled for just before lunch.
The captains were putting off, though, coming in by small boats. They had been instructed to leave their executive officers on board and come ashore for a preliminary meeting. In the case of the carrier captains, with their senior dragon-riders. He had to prepare for that meeting. He didn’t think it was going to be pleasant.
Chapter Eleven
The meeting took hours. There was no other way to cover the battle and he knew it was only going to be the first. And it had been as bad as he expected.
The meeting was being held in the main dining room of the officers’ club, that being the only room large enough to accommodate all the ship skippers and the staff. The room was still packed and the windows had been kept closed so it was hot as Hades. And so were tempers.
The responses in the meeting ranged from anger, fury really, to almost comatose depression. The skipper of the Corvallis was especially quiet, almost catatonic. The senior dragon-rider, Major Bob Childress, though, was livid.
“We had no warning,” Childress said, for about the sixth time. “We just flew in fat, dumb and happy. The next time we go out, the riders are going to be nervous. Which means they’re not going to get in close enough for accurate bombing.”
“How do we deal with the anti-dragon frigates?” Edmund asked.
“I don’t know,” the rider said, angrily. “Attack from below? Maybe the mer?”
“Other ideas?” Edmund asked. “I’m not discounting that one, I just want more options.”
“Take them out first,” Chang responded. He’d spent most of the meeting quietly listening and taking notes. Mostly about the defensive quality of the answers the staff were giving. “Send in strikes specifically to take them out. Yeah, you’ll have to drop from high. And you’ll miss quite a bit. But once they’re gone, the carriers are vulnerable.”