She shrugged. “I needed Merlin to coordinate a time-on-target attack. Wicklow refused to yield control. There wasn’t time to debate it.”
Rudd wearily rubbed his forehead. Wicklow was known for treating is subordinates ruthlessly. He never forgot a slight, no matter how small. And he had friends in Court, influential friends who were rumored to be close to the Queen’s brother, the Duke of Kent. “If he finds out it was you, Emily…”
Emily shrugged again. She had already figured out that much. “I’m going to nail those Dominion supply ships, Alex. After that, well…”
Rudd looked around the deck. There was broken glass and blood smears everywhere. “Not much like the simulations, is it?”
Emily smiled wanly. “Real blood.”
On the Dominion command ship, Admiral Mello looked up in alarm as Jodi Pattin joined him, white faced.
“We just received a courier drone from the supply ships you were using as bait. The escorts have been destroyed and the remaining supply ships are at risk.”
Blood drained from Mello’s face. This was to be the decisive battle, by which he would destroy or capture the space station Atlas and defeat Victoria for all time. But he needed to be fully armed. He was almost out of missiles. Without the supply ships he would be reduced to fighting only with lasers by the end of the next engagement.
“Where is Admiral Kaeser?” he raged at Captain Pattin. “I need him here to make an all-out assault on that bloody space station.” He looked up at the holo display — the space station Atlas was so close, so very close. He was being forced into a mistake. He could sense it, but he couldn’t avoid it, only try to cope with it. First he had to save his supply train, then find the damnable plodding Admiral Kaeser and get him into the battle. Then, but only then, could he regain the momentum.
But it grated on him, by God. He turned sourly to Captain Pattin. “Very well. Send forty ships back at emergency speed. Secure the supply ships.” This would leave him with less than forty ships to pursue the Atlas. Not enough. “We will drop back from the Atlas and resume the attack when our task force has returned and when Admiral Kaeser joins us.” The plodding old fool. Hadn’t he warned Hudis that appointing Kaeser was a mistake!
Captain Pattin turned and snapped out orders.
Chief Gibson approached them, a worried look on his face. “Call coming in, Lieutenant Tuttle; it’s Captain Wicklow of the Gloucester. He’s in a bit of a fluster and demands to speak to Captain Grey.”
Emily closed her eyes. Not now.
But Alex Rudd held up a hand. “Communications, open it to me at my station. He stepped over to the Tactical Station, where the camera would not show Captain Grey slumped in her chair. “Yes, Captain Wicklow, may I help you?”
Captain Wicklow’s face was beet red. “Where is Captain Grey? I need to speak to her at once.”
Emily leaned over to Naama Denker. “Can you wake her up, give her a shot or something?” Denker glared at her, but readied a stim shot and administered it to the captain. Grey twitched and groaned.
“The Captain is supervising some emergency repairs, sir,” Rudd told Captain Wicklow.
“Get her. I need to speak to her now.”
Rudd shook his head. “My apologies, Captain Wicklow, she gave orders that she was not to be interrupted unless it was an emergency. May I pass along a message?”
Captain Grey’s eyes opened, but she looked about in confusion. Emily leaned close to her and quickly explained. “We are getting ready to attack a second group of supply ships, but Captain Wicklow has called demanding to speak to you. If he thinks you have been seriously injured, he may take command.”
Captain Grey shook her head as if to clear it. It must have hurt her because she cried out and bit her lip, taking sharp, deep breaths. Her complexion, if possible, became even whiter. Denker hastened forward, but Captain Grey held up her hand. “I’m okay,” she said. “Just wasn’t expecting that.”
On the comm screen, Wicklow’s face grew redder. “I am giving you an order, Lieutenant. Get Captain Grey. Now.”
Captain Grey nodded to Betty McCann, who activated the camera on Grey’s chair. “Captain Wicklow,” she greeted him. “I am surprised to see you on the Gloucester’s bridge since I expressly relieved you of command.” She was struggling not to slur her words and Captain Wicklow looked at her strangely.
“I am calling to protest your order, Captain,” he said. “There were no grounds for relieving me of command. Now that we are going into battle again, I…request that you allow me to resume command.”
“No,” Grey said flatly. “You have been relieved. Lieutenant Commander Greer is now in command. We can discuss this when we return to Atlas, but I have no time for it now.”
“But-”
“My order stands, Captain. You are to confine yourself to quarters.”
Captain Wicklow stared at her with a look of undiluted hatred. “You have not heard the last of this, Captain. Gloucester out.” The screen went blank.
With the call over, Captain Grey deflated like a toy balloon. She breathed deep ragged breaths while Denker fused over her.
“Recon drones have found them!” called out Chief Gibson.
Rudd mentally counted to five, then had Communications call back the Gloucester and asked for Lieutenant Commander Greer. When she appeared, Rudd changed the com setting so that only she would hear him.
“Kamela,” Rudd greeted her. They had been in the same class at the Academy. “We may be going into action in a few minutes. We need to know that you are in control of your command.”
Greer flushed, but nodded. “I’m in a difficult situation here, Alex.”
“I understand,” Rudd replied. “But you are the captain of the Gloucester now, Kamela. Captain Grey expects you to act like it.”
She blew air out her mouth. “I hear you, Alex.”
Rudd nodded. “And Kamela, a word to the wise: Don’t let Wicklow bother Captain Grey again in the middle of an operation. New Zealand out.”
Emily avidly watched the holo display. There were six supply ships accelerating toward Bogey One. Okay, but where were the armed escorts? She studied the display as the recon drones slowly spiraled out from them, using minimal power to try to stay undetected. Then a red triangle appeared, then a second, then several more, formed in a tight, arrow shaped wedge less than two hundred miles from the supply ships. They were flying parallel to the colliers in the same plane of advance. There they were, but what were they? Frigates? Cruisers?
“Talk to me, Chief,” she said to Chief Gibson.
“No active sensors from either the supply ships or the escorts, so it looks like they are trying to sneak away. They know we’re looking for them. The colliers are accelerating hard. They must be red-lining their inertia compensators.”
“What are they?”
“Merlin says three frigates and three destroyers. Can’t tell if they’re missile heavy or laser heavy.”
Emily nodded. “Tactical!” she could see Rudd still at the Tactical Station, thank God. Chief Freidman stood beside him, looking uncertain and fretful. Have to replace him when this is over. It was a shame. Freidman was a twenty year veteran, he deserved better, but he was unraveling before her eyes. “Send the drones around the enemy ships to a point a thousand miles to the front of them. Profile the drones as frigates and destroyers, with a couple of cruisers thrown in. I want the drones to go to active sensors as soon as they are in position, then bring them straight in towards the supply ships. As soon as the escort ships react, have the wasps — ” every other drone carried a small missile instead of a sensor pack — “flush their missiles at the escort.”
“Emily,” Captain Grey whispered hoarsely.