Christopher Nuttall - Barbarians at the Gates

He keyed his console anyway.

“Chief engineer, this is Garibaldi,” he said. Captain Garibaldi sounded pretentious and not a little absurd. “I need you to assume command for a few hours. You have full authority to command the damage control teams in repairing the ship.”

“Understood,” the chief engineer said. His voice was oddly reassuring. He’d had years of experience in engineering and damage control and that was what Enterprise needed. “I’ll see you on the next watch.”

Roman yawned as he stumbled off the bridge and staggered down towards the shared cabin. It crossed his mind that he was captain and really should sleep in the captain’s cabin, but the thought felt absurd. Besides, the captain’s cabin had been depressurised in the attack. The airlock hissed open and he almost fell. Once inside the cabin, he collapsed on his bunk, not even bothering to take off his shoes and uniform jacket. Tiredness overwhelmed him and he fell asleep.

He woke up a few hours later, shaking. He’d been in command of the ship—and he’d killed thousands of Justinian’s soldiers. Former Federation Navy soldiers. Roman had known, intellectually, that he’d have to kill in the name of the Federation, and yet…he’d somehow never realized it, not really. And then he’d been in command…it was a miracle that the ship hadn’t exploded the moment he’d assumed command. He’d given orders and somehow they’d survived, yet he had no clear memory of what he’d said or done. Everything was a blur.

There was no sign of Sultana, he noted, as he sat upright. It took everything he had to stumble to his feet, strip, and stagger into the fresher, cold water washing away the sweat and grime from the battle. As water ran down his body, he activated his communications implant and accessed the damage report. The damage control crews had managed to fix most of the easy problems, but the rest would have to wait until they reached a shipyard. It made him wonder when that would be, if ever. The only shipyards in this sector were controlled by Admiral Justinian.

Shaking his head, he stepped out of the fresher and started to dress. There was work to do.

Marius ran his hand through his hair as he stared at the star chart, considering. “Once we get to FAS-836393”—the red giant had never been honored by a name—”take us through the Asimov Point at once to Delta Bannerman, and then through there to Golden Harbour.”

He scowled, running through the possibilities in his head. The strange network of Asimov Points doubled back on themselves, leaving relatively few links to the Core Worlds, unless there was an uncharted Asimov Point somewhere in the sector. It wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t something they could count on, not when Admiral Justinian would be preparing his forces for a rapid advance.

The olden days must have been easier, back before the continuous displacement drive. On the other hand, without the stardrive, the fleet would have been forced to surrender, or it would’ve been destroyed.

“From there, take us through the Gamma Chain to Boskone,” he concluded unhappily. “We can link up with the Fleet Train there and use the base’s facilities to reload and repair our ships.”

“Aye, sir,” the helmsman said. “I am relaying the course to the remainder of the fleet.”

Marius barely heard him. He was still considering the implications. It would take at least ten days to reach FAS-836393 and slip into one of the red giant’s Asimov Points. From there, it would take at least another twelve days to reach Boskone, while Admiral Justinian—if he pushed it—could be there in ten. In fact, if the Admiral was willing to gamble, he might be able to cut the remains of the Retribution Force off and destroy them. It wouldn’t be a peaceful flight. If they beat Justinian to Boskone, they might be able to hold him until reinforcements could reach them from the Core Worlds. If…

He keyed his console, accessing the Marine channel.

“Toby, take a squad of Marines and get over to Enterprise ,” he ordered. “I want those prisoners transferred over here for ONI’s interrogators. I need to know what they know.”

“Understood,” Vaughn said.

Marius released the console and studied the fleet’s status. Seventy superdreadnaughts had entered the Jefferson System. Forty-eight had escaped, almost all of them damaged, some badly. And then there were the damaged carriers, cruisers and destroyers. Nearly half of his starfighters had been wiped out in the fighting, along with most of his gunboats and light support craft. He couldn’t remember such a defeat in the years since the Blue Star War, even back when he’d been commanding the fleet stationed along the Rim. The pirates and Outsiders had never managed to inflict major losses on his ships. They’d preferred to avoid the Federation Navy and pillage undefended civilian ships and planets instead.

You need sleep , he told himself tiredly. There was no way around it. Taking stimulants would only come back to haunt him. Promising himself that he would sleep once he finished reorganizing his fleet, he studied the display. The senior CAG had been killed on Illustrious , leaving Commodore Mason in overall command of the starfighters. Marius barely knew Mason, but he had a good reputation as a hard-charging commander.

“I need you to reorganize the starfighter squadrons,” Marius ordered without preamble once his communications officer had gotten him in touch with Mason. “Consider yourself promoted to Fleet CAG and start work after you have some sleep.”

“Certainly, sir,” Mason said. He sounded groggy.

Marius hated to think what he sounded like, but he doubted that it was reassuring.

“I have one issue to raise,” Mason said. “I should move my flag to Enterprise , yet the ship is currently being commanded by a mere lieutenant…”

“He assumed command under Case Omega,” Marius said sharply. It was very much a tenth-order issue at the moment. Besides, the young lieutenant was either very good, or very lucky. Both were traits worth encouraging. “I will review the matter when I have time. Until then, I expect you to treat him as you would any other captain…”

“But admiral…”

“Those are your orders,” Marius said coldly. “Either follow them, or turn the command over to your successor and consider yourself relieved.”

There was a pause.

“Understood. I will follow my orders,” Mason said. “Over and out.”

Marius rubbed his eyes, issued a few more orders, and then headed for his cabin. Magnificent had a truly magnificent suite fit for any admiral who might be aboard her, yet all he cared about was the bed. There were officers who brought their mistresses aboard—a practice officially disapproved of, although winked at in private—and even installed a private staff of their own. But Marius had never cared for such abuses of authority. Why set a bad example for the rest of the fleet?

He collapsed on the bed without even loosening his shirt or taking off his boots, and went to sleep.

The first ten days of the transit went smoothly, much to Marius’s relief. The fleet’s ships shared engineers and repair crews, swapping out damaged components and repairing the ships as much as possible. Most would need a shipyard before they could be repaired properly, but they’d be able to fight or run if necessary. They wouldn’t be able to fight for long, unfortunately, as they would run out of missiles very quickly. Marius had reluctantly decided to avoid action if possible, at least until they reached Boskone.

He’d checked up on Enterprise from time to time—Mason apparently had supporters in the fleet, who had attempted to bring the matter to Marius’s attention—but everything seemed to be running smoothly. Besides, he didn’t have a suitable commanding officer to put in Garibaldi’s place. Mason himself might have been angling for the command—a poisoned chalice at the moment, although Enterprise would be repaired as soon as she was brought to a shipyard—yet normally he’d be outside the chain of command. Marius could override the regulations in an emergency, though he would have to account for his actions to a Board of Inquiry. The thought made him grimace. No matter what happened, there was going to be a Board of Inquiry and a Senate Commission inquiring into the defeat.