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    THE BLACK FLEET CRISIS #3 - TYRANTS_TEST

    Page 8
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      carried out against the ferry flight and the commodore's shuttle had

      left the combined fleet without its appointed leader. So far, no

      replacement had been announced, leaving the chain of command as it had

      been, with A'baht as senior commander of the forces in Farlax Sector.

      But Fleet Command had involved itself in the operational details to a

      degree that sharply limited A'baht's command autonomy, and the

      selection of a new commodore seemed inevitable.

      In the meantime, though, there was work to do.

      "General A'baht," said a new voice.

      A'baht looked up to see Carson standing in the hatchway wearing a half

      grin. "Stony," A'baht said, rising from his desk. "I thought I told

      my aide to deliver you to the briefing room."

      "The landing bay officer said the next gig was ten minutes behind me,"

      said Carson, closing the hatch behind him and easing himself into a

      chair. "I thought I'd take the opportunity to say hello."

      Puffing out a breath, A'baht settled back into his chair and thumbed

      his comlink. "Lieutenant, inform me when the others arrive."

      "Yes, sir."

      Switching off the unit and setting it on his desk, A'baht sat back and

      let himself smile. "It's good to see you, Stony."

      "And you, Etahn. I hear things have been a little rough."

      "I'm glad to have you here," said A'baht. "This is a very green

      fleet."

      "I doubt that your training methods have softened with the years," said

      Carson. "They'll be all right."

      "A leavening of experienced crews and battle-tested ships among them

      will make them better," said A'baht. "We've trained them hard, but

      training is not the same as fighting. They got their first taste of

      that at Doornik Three-nineteen."

      "A bitter taste, from what reached us," said Carson.

      "How did the new ships perform for you?"

      "They held up well. The losses we took weren't design-related. A

      couple of captains learned what not to

      do next time." A'baht paused, then added gravely, "A couple of crews

      bought me very expensive lessons that I will probably not have the

      opportunity to apply."

      "You don't think you're going to see home before this is over, do

      you?"

      "No--they won't make any changes now. But when the new commodore

      arrives, I'll be reduced to a supernumerary--in fact if not in name,"

      said A'baht.

      "Already I'm little more than a mouthpiece for Fleet Command."

      "It's that way sometimes," said Carson, his grin widening. "No one

      wearing this uniform enjoys the latitude of a general in the Domean

      navy."

      A'baht flashed a brief, knowing smile. "Or enjoys the

      responsibility.

      If I had had that from the start--" "It's not the way Coruscant does

      things--no matter who's holding the reins, there are always reins,"

      said Carson. "Are you certain they're going to send someone?"

      "I think the only thing that's stopped them from sending Ackbar or

      Nantz to take command is the fear that they, too, might become

      hostages," said A'baht. "I seem not to have many boosters at

      headquarters."

      "I told you--you should have let them make you an admiral," said

      Carson. "I'd bet half your trouble with the command staff comes from

      clinging to your old rank. Headquarters is full of newborn

      traditionalists, and they can't get it out Of their heads that a

      general should have dirty boots or wings. These lofty quarters"--he

      raised his hands to take in the utilitarian suite--"are for

      admirals."

      "So you are saying that they offered me the choice of retaining my

      Dornean navy rank as a false courtesy," said A'baht.

      "Oh, I'm sure whoever signed off on the consolidation plan was

      sincere," said Carson. "Generals are C-one, admirals are C-one--so

      it's the grade that matters, not the rank, right? But old prejudices

      die slowly--to say nothing of old rivalries."

      "Foolishness," A'baht said disgustedly. "To judge a man by his

      title--" At that point, the hatch opened and Lieutenant Zratha poked

      his head in. "Admiral Tolokus and Commodore Martaft are in the

      briefing room, sir. The others are on their way up."

      "Thank you. We'll be along presently," said A'baht, standing. "Well,

      Stony, time to don my tarnished title."

      Carson was on his feet by then and saluted smartly--to A'baht's

      surprise. "Sir, if I may say so, I can see no tarnish from here--and

      neither will the others."

      He moved a step closer and dropped his voice. "This isn't Imperial

      City. We know who you are, General--we know that you belong. Just

      lead the way. You won't need to wonder about whether we're

      following.

      They asked me to tell you that, sir."

      A'baht showed a quick, tight smile. "Thank you, Stony," he said. "Now

      let's go roll up our sleeves."

      A'baht allowed Carson to go on ahead while he stopped to collect his

      briefing officers from the staff bullpen. Without consciously

      intending it, that gave him the opportunity to make an entrance,

      sweeping into the room with two colonels following in his wake. The

      five who were waiting there four commodores and an admiral, from left

      to right a woman, three men, and a Norak Tull--rose smartly from their

      seats and saluted.

      "At ease," A'baht said, moving toward the center seat. "Let me

      introduce Colonel Corgan, my staff tactical officer, and Colonel

      Mauit'ta, my staff intelligence officer. They will have reports for

      you later in this session."

      The two officers took chairs flanking A'baht.

      The general wasted no time on introductions or other social niceties.

      "As you already know, you and your task forces have been sent here to

      reinforce the Fifth Fleet in the effort to contain the Yevetha," he

      said.

      "We are no longer here as a symbol, or a warning, or a show of

      strength, like some sort of War Day parade.

      Our mission objectives are threat assessment and containment, and they

      could grow beyond that at any time.

      "We will operate as a single operational unit at double fleet strength,

      with all ten task forces reporting directly to me through my command

      staff. Each of your units will retain its current organization, call

      signs, and command frequencies at the battle group, squadron, and

      division levels.

      "The one exception to that concerns your intelligence assets. All

      prowlers and ferrets are to be attached to the newly authorized

      Sixteenth Tactical Recon Group, and will be reporting directly to

      Colonel Mauit'ta, effective immediately. He will provide you with

      further details concerning basing and the transfer procedure.

      Fleetwide tactical reports will come from Colonel Corgan's office.

      You'll be expected to continue to provide your own local early-warning

      and fleet defense patrols, using your recon wings and pickets.

      "We've taken casualties and can expect to take 'more, but I will not

      stand for any commander under me becoming blithe about that fact. We

      should be prepared to accept every loss by enemy action that is

      necessary to the success of our mission here-
    -but I will not accept a

      single casualty due to inattentiveness, incompetence, carelessness,

      inefficiency, or preventable failures of ships and munitions. Our

      enemy is smart, strong, and determined, and we're on his turf. I'm

      asking for the highest possible level of combat readiness at every

      level of your respective commands.

      "While we're on the subject of losses--Colonel Corgan?"

      Corgan nodded. "Fleetwide, we are twenty-six combat pilots and eleven

      support pilots short of our authorized strength," he said. "Those

      numbers reflect net losses from the Doornik Three-nineteen engagement

      and the coordinated recon of the Cluster interior.

      "Between reserves and resupply from Coruscant, we have rides

      available--just no riders. One of the down sides of being a new combat

      division scratch-built to specs is that we had very few experienced

      pilots banked in nonflying posts, and most of those carry ranks that

      ordinarily would exclude them from front-line combat units.

      "When you return to your commands, please examine your crew and staff

      rosters with an eye toward locating a minimum of six and a maximum of

      eight pilots whom you could make available by transfer. We are

      particularly hurting for experienced recon pilots."

      Commodore Poqua leaned forward and rested her folded arms on the

      table.

      "Between the expansion to five fleets and the number of Rebellion

      veterans returning to civilian life, none of us is in a much better

      position than you are," she said. "I know that up until two years ago,

      Task Force Gemstone typically had forty or more names in the bank. Now

      those bank pilots are scattered on forty worlds, making babies and

      tending gardens and flying commercial shuttles--if they're flying at

      all."

      "We're aware of the effect the drawdown has had throughout the Fleet,"

      said A'baht. "But the need to balance our assets remains. Please

      submit your transfer lists by fourteen hundred-today." He looked to

      his right.

      "Colonel Mauit'ta--the Yevethan force assessments."

      Mauit'ta slid a datacard across the table to each of the task force

      commanders in turn. Commodore Grekk 9, the Norak Tull, inserted the

      card into the input stage on his armored thorax, and Poqua produced a

      datapad from an inside pocket. The others let their copies remain on

      the table as finger toys.

      "Those datacards contain our complete and most current knowledge about

      the Yevethan fleet," said Mauit'ta. "That includes recognition holos,

      sensor profiles, an order of battle and ship inventory, last and best

      sightings, and preliminary specifications for the hyperspace-capable

      thrustship design now code-named Fat Man.

      "The data we are providing to you is incomplete and in some respects

      speculative. For example, the order of battle is based primarily on

      astrographic deployment, since we have no direct information about the

      combat

      organization of the Yevethan fleet. But as the General has already

      noted, one of our jobs right now is to fill in the blanks. We're

      particularly eager for a chance to make a kill on a Fat Man--right now

      we don't even have a good sense of what that will take.

      "I'll let you review the force assessments in detail with your command

      staffs, and limit myself to a summary overview. Based on a complete

      analysis of our contacts with the Yevetha, we are currently estimating

      their fleet strength at no fewer than ninety-three capital ships, of

      which at least twenty-nine are Imperial-design vessels and the balance

      are Fat Men.

      "There are at least nineteen occupied and defended worlds, and there

      may be twenty--Doornik Two-oh-seven hasn't been reconned yet. Eight

      are defended by a mixed fleet, and we're considering that an indicator

      that the Yevetha consider those principal targets. Five are League

      members, and three are former colonies. The other eleven targets are

      defended by Fat Men only.

      "It is possible that the Yevetha have additional vessels cached

      elsewhere--we hope to start reducing that uncertainty by expanding our

      surveys of the Cluster.

      But the biggest question marks" Grekk 9 interrupted the briefing at

      that point. "The Imperial shipyards. Where are the shipyards?"

      "Yes, Commodore--you anticipate me. We don't know where they are or

      what's hiding in them. The probability is that the Yevetha have three

      operational Imperial shipyards, all of which may be continuing to

      produce copies of the Imperial ships in their inventory.

      Four instances of duplicate Star Destroyer ID profiles were recorded

      during the recon penetration."

      Carson spoke up. "Either they're trying to throw us off, or they're

      duplicating systems without understanding them."

      "We have an intelligence source that suggests the latter may be the

      case," said Mauit'ta. "In any event, locating the shipyards is our

      number-one intelligence priority. And when located, the shipyards will

      be designated as primary targets."

      "What about the Fat Men?" asked Martafl.

      "Where are they being built? Given the numbers, we may need to worry

      more about them."

      "The thrustships appear to be built in surface yards, possibly on

      N'zoth only," said Mauit'ta. "We've located two such yards, and those

      are designated priority point targets."

      "How do you intend to locate the Imperial yards?" asked Grekk 9.

      A'baht interrupted at that point. "All of these issues can be

      addressed at a later time," he said. "The point to impress on your

      crews is that the Yevetha cannot be taken lightly. Considering only

      their confirmed assets, they have more than sufficient strength to

      overwhelm a single task force.

      "For that reason, I have ordered that the minimum division for the

      coming deployment will be two task forces. Token and Bellbright will

      be paired under Admiral Tolokus. Apex and Summer will combine under

      Commodore Carson. Gemstone will join Copperleaf, the flag task force,

      under Commodore Mirx. Are there any questions on that point?"

      There were none, Joint task force operations were part of both the

      training and operational routine, and A'baht had left the natural and

      familiar pairings in place.

      But the order itself underlined how seriously A'baht viewed the Yevetha

      threat. The commodores of the Fleet's task forces were not accustomed

      to thinking of their commands as vulnerable. The typical composition

      of a twenty-one-vessel task force included a Star Destroyer or fleet

      carrier as flagship, two heavy cruisers and two assault carriers, four

      escort frigates, and five gunships--a fast, flexible, and formidable

      aggregation of firepower.

      "What is our coming deployment?" asked Admiral Tolokus.

      "I'm taking the fleet into the boundary systems of the Cluster," said

      A'baht, turning his solemn and unblinking gaze toward the admiral.

      "The big parade is

      over. We're going to make it as hard as we can for the Yevetha to

      keep track of us, while making it easier for us to keep track of

      them.

      "That includes recon surveys in fo
    rce, filling the Cluster with as many

      sensor buoys and probots as we can get, scattering ghost repeaters

      behind in systems we visit, and sending a squadron to Doornik

      Eleven-forty-two to look for a shipyard there," he said. "We don't

      currently have the authority to initiate action against the Yevetha,

      but we're fully authorized to use all available force if they show up

      and try to interfere with our operations.

      "In short, we're going to stretch the principles of free navigation and

      legitimate self-defense as far as they'll go," said A'baht. "If our

      presence persuades the Yevetha to seek a diplomatic solution, that'll

      be fine with us. But if they insist on war, we have to make certain

      we're ready to make them regret their choice."

      A'baht swept his gaze across the faces opposite him at the briefing

      table. "That's what I expect from you, and from the ships, officers,

      and crews under your command.

      Be prepared to fight when there is no other option--and be prepared to

      win, because there is no other option."

      Luke awoke in Mud Sloth's sleeper with an unaccustomed warmth beside

      him and an unaccustomed memory hovering close to his thoughts. He

      stirred, and Akanah melded her body against his again, skin touching

      skin and coaxing slumbering senses to awaken.

     


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