John Ringo - Against the Tide

“Dragon signaling, ma’am,” the lookout called.

Skipper Karcher looked up and to the rear where the lookout was pointing and at the underside of the landing platform over her head. With a meow of distaste she walked to the rear of the quarterdeck and leaned out.

“What’s the signal?” she shouted.

“Requesting clearance to land,” the signal midshipman called from primary flight ops. The latter was a platform mounted on the rear mast. From there they could see the incoming dragons and signals from dragons in the pattern. Unlike the captain.

“The fleet hasn’t signaled air-ops, ma’am,” her new XO, Major Sassan, said.

“I know that, XO,” the skipper said. “Pri-fly! Powell or Silverdrake?”

“Silverdrake, ma’am!” the midshipman called. She saw the damned elf climbing up there as well. “Now signaling request to recall all the Silverdrake.”

“Granted,” Karcher called. “Do not, say again, do not set for air-ops! Have ground crews standing by.”

“Ma’am, are you sure about that?” Sassan asked.

“Yes,” Karcher replied. “Communications, signal the fleet. ‘Have recalled fatigued Silverdrake. Our number. End.’ ”

“Yes, ma’am,” the signal midshipman said, pulling the flags out of her locker.

Karcher could, barely, see the Richard from her position. She saw the acknowledgement flag fly just as the first Silverdrake thumped to the deck, then an “Approved” follow it quickly. The approval was marked for the whole fleet.

“Apparently there are others with tired Silverdrake,” Sassan said.

“Yes,” Karcher replied. “XO, could I see you below?” she said, walking lightly to the companionway and springing halfway down in one bound.

When they reached her day-room she sat down and waved at the chair across from her desk.

“I don’t know how Admiral Chang handled things, XO,” she said. “But when I make a decision, I don’t want it second-guessed unless you know you have information I don’t. You will find that I will frequently ask for input, especially as regards the handling characteristics of this ship, the material condition and the crew. But when I give an order, you do not second-guess me. Certainly not in front of the crew. Is that clear?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the XO replied.

“When Silverdrake have to land, they have to land. Maybe Vickie pulled them a tad early, maybe not. But I am not going to question the decision of an experienced dragon-rider, certainly not in the air. Further reasons for my decision: Silverdrake can land on a dime. They don’t need the ship to be headed into the wind. The fleet could recall them without maneuvering, which is good since we don’t have the sea-room, yet. I could have asked the admiral. In the future, I suspect I will. But at that time, in that place, I knew I had to get my Silverdrake down. Making decisions like that is what being the skipper is about. Clear?”

“Clear, ma’am.”

“When you’re a skipper, you’ll have to make decisions like that, too. For now, let’s get back up on deck. I imagine we’ll start air-ops pretty soon.”

“I can’t believe they got to sea that fast,” Paul snarled, tiredly.

He had just completed another session of recalling his avatars. Reintegrating their personalities was tiring and generally left him grouchy. Megan had had Shanea stand by with her as they waited and now the latter lifted a cup of wine to his lips.

“Thank you, Shanea,” Paul said, taking a sip.

“The UFS sailed already?” Megan asked.

“Yes,” Paul said, shaking his head and taking the cup from Shanea. His hand shook slightly as he raised it for another sip. “That damned Talbot again. Sheida put him in charge of the fleet. He’s made all sorts of changes. Most of them good.”

“He has been quite a thorn in your side,” Megan prompted.

“As bad as Kinloch in Taurania,” Paul admitted, sitting up. “Worse, really. Chansa gave orders to have him assassinated but that bastard Conner bungled it.”

“Conner is normally quite efficient,” Megan mused.

“Yes, but this time he underestimated Talbot, and that bastard Herrick for that matter. The assassins attacked them by surprise and the two of them managed to kill eight of the assassins, even though they were unarmed.”

“Herrick is the young Blood Lord?” Shanea asked.

“Yes,” Paul said, smiling at the girl. Shanea usually just listened since she wasn’t quite as quick on the uptake as Megan. “He’s been a bit of a thorn in my side as well, but not as bad as Talbot. I’m thinking of sending a team of Celine’s specials after the both of them. Or maybe Edmund’s family, including that brat of McCanoc’s.”

“Edmund Talbot does not seem the sort to respond to grief,” Megan said, frowning. “Not in an unthinking way. If anything, it will make him angrier. But not a good angry. Not from what you’ve told me of him. I don’t want to say that attacking them would be a bad idea, but…”

“But you think it’s a bad idea.” Paul grinned. “And you’re probably right. I’ll make a note to Chansa to leave them alone. Killing Edmund will do. And if they can get that bastard Herzer at the same time, more power.”

“Can’t our fleet beat theirs?” Shanea asked.

“Probably, lovey,” Paul said, patting her on the head. “We’ve got more ships. But I don’t trust that Talbot. He’s tricky.”

“Any good news?” Megan asked.

“Well, they still haven’t taken the Alam reactor,” Paul said. “But Arizzi’s forces got pushed back in Chin, again, and Cho is stalemated in the mountains of Soam. If we can just take Norau, or even the eastern reactors…”

“You need some time to let this bubble,” Megan said, sliding over next to him. “Two beautiful women, one good looking guy. What does this suggest to you?”

“That my day’s getting better?” Paul chuckled.

“Good day for flying,” Herzer said as he checked the straps on Meritari.

The fleet had recovered the dragons in the bay and then headed out to sea for more exercises. They had spent the morning doing ship drills but the afternoon was slated for air-operations. The riders had wolfed down lunch and were now preparing to lead their mounts up to the deck.

“That it is,” Joanna said, stumping down the broad corridor that marked the dragon-hanger. “Seas are low enough that the wyverns aren’t sick, not pitching too much. Should be easy takeoff and landing.”

“Nice and warm,” Ensign Ross said. “Good thermals.”

“Well, let’s go find out,” Herzer said, opening up the gate of the stall and leading the wyvern out into the pathway as soon as Joanna was past. He handed the reins to one of the handlers, though, and slid past Joanna to beat her onto the deck.

“What’s your hurry?” Joanna growled.

“You’re first off, Commander,” Herzer pointed out. “I’m last. I’m going to watch the launch in pri-fly; most of the guys up there are pretty green.”

“Hey, Joanna,” Bast said, swinging down from the mainmast. “Care to give me a ride?”

“Sure, you’re light,” Joanna said as one of the Silverdrake let out an evil hiss.

“Quit that you bastard,” Vickie replied, slapping the wyvern on the nose. “Najah hates waiting for others to take off.”

“She can go ahead as far as I’m concerned,” Joanna said.

“Silverdrake should launch last,” Major Sassan called from -pri-fly. “They’ve got the shortest legs.”

“I’ll just take her to where she won’t mind so much,” Vickie said, mounting the wyvern. At an unseen signal the wyvern grabbed the ratlines and started climbing the mainmast. The movement was very like a climbing bat’s; the wings had three fingerlike appendages which the Silverdrake used for climbing hand over hand up the rigging. When it reached the mainsail it climbed out on the crosstree until it reached the end, where it perched. After a moment it slid around until it was facing head down, its wings folded in against its body. It was apparent that it could take off at any moment.