Storiesonline.net
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                              Aggy- Book 1
                             by Green Dragon

Copyright© 2009 by Green Dragon


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Description: Sci-fi wars between worlds; history repeated; politics at many levels; no sex at all at all, a thread of lust very occasionally though; heroes, well perhaps you'd believe clowns stumbling from triumph to triumph with exponential improbability only to have a new disaster confront them.

Codes: ScFi
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Prologue

"Aggy, I need to see you urgently; I have some very distressing news which needs to be passed on to the relevant people without having the moves exposed."

The Commodore considered the image of his fellow Grenob in the viewer of the PDA; Marcel Thoreau was one of the few people who, outside the Flock, possessed another of the Flock crafted hand com devices which were hand made in the very secure hold of R2, one of the FURS in "The Queen's Own".

"Marcel, do I need to take action stat?"

"No, no, it's just the need to pass the information up" replied Marcel hurriedly but with a slight laugh.

"Where are you?"

"My office."

"I'll send a UVA to your pad, should be there in twelve, thirteen."

"Suits, but you know those things terrify me."

"McCock clear."

The Commodore slipped the PDA into its belt holder and activated his internal ship's com to vid the OW in the CIC;

"Dispatch the pinnace to pick up the Grenoble Mil Sec at the Bollard House pad stat; he should be waiting. Thank you."

Thoreau was half out of the flush mounted deck hatch as he saw the pinnace on landing approach to the pad. He sighed in relief at recognizing "Vector's" pinnace and smiled wryly as Aggy had got him back for that Partheon 'invoice'. He waited until the pinnace settled, flashed its lights and opened its hatch before he moved out of the stairway. He stood on the hatch control and as the green indicated seal, turned and entered the pinnace where he secured himself into a seat.

"In and tight" he called and heard the disembodied reply

"Thank you, Commander" as the pinnace hatch whirred sealed and the boat lifted off.

"You got me good this time, Aggy. Demned UVAs, give me claustrophobia" shuddered Thoreau. A faint twitch moved McCock's lips as he shook the extended hand. They walked quietly down the passageway from the boat bay ready room to the Captain's quarters and Thoreau followed McCock in.

"I see you haven't reversed Maureen's mods to the ready room's vids" Thoreau commented as he settled in the lift chair beside the coffee table cum work desk.

"No, we know what she did but it's easier to replace them rather than try to reverse the changes; she certainly did a job on them" replied McCock as he passed the coffee percolator.

"By tbe by, I've got a chest of Jamaican Blue if you're interested?"

"Marcel, HM is not pleased with you. You supply Hernandes and us but not her Comptroller."

"When HM's Comptroller restricts donated goodies to the immediate household and not pass them around to his grace and favour sponging mates, then I would suddenly locate the top stuff."

"There's that. Now, your information?"

Thoreau passed across a chip which McCock inserted into the reader and sent the image to the wall screen. It showed a distinguished looking conservatively dressed man of late middle age at a podium in front of an audience of what looked to be middle level executives. He was informing them that Mountserrat was in breach of the seventh and eighth Geneva Conventions and that he would so inform the United Solarian Senate. McCock turned and looked at Thoreau who informed him:

"Solarian Ambassador to Harbouria addressing the combined sitting of their houses of Congress. One of my neutrals picked it up just as he was departing; he got in about ten days after your raid. It took him about twelve days to unload his grain cargo and had to leave empty as there was no longer a backload for him; took him another fifteen days to here. The only thing good about this is that the Ambassador is going to have great difficulty in getting his message out: and, yes Sol will accept that report and will act on it is my assessment. There are a lot of avaricious shipping cartels there who have been eyeing the Junction for decades. The truth of the damage actually done will be deliberately buried in an avalanche of propaganda which will be spread throughout the United Solarian Worlds and cries for a punitive expedition will resound as each politican will try to outdo one another."

McCock extracted his PDA, selected a connection, waited 'til made and then spoke,

"Uncle Rupert, Aggy, I'm on "Vector" and leaving now to collect Slow enroute; I need to speak to Aunt Lillibet ASAP. I'll have Commander Thoreau with me in "Vector's" pinnace."

There was a very long pause as the speakers looked intently at each other's image on their PDA vid before exchanging nods and the voice from the PDA said,

"No1 landing pad." The link disconnected and McCock replaced the PDA.

McCock walked to his desk to inform the OW that the pinnace was needed again for a sortie to the Palace picking up Captain Gort en route. He informed Slow saying he would explain en route.

He eseated himself to finish his coffee wondering as he did so, how it had all ended up like this. He finished his coffee, pocketed that chip from the reader, stood, retrieved his forage cap and looked across at Thoreau who also stood and together they made their way to the boat bay. McCock was still wondering as he secured himself in the pinnace seat.



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Chapter 1



The vertically and weight challenged figure marched out of the gates of Sandhurst College, The Royal Mountserrat Naval Academy, returning the salute of the Marine sentry whilst steadying the cavalry saber at his side.

'Oooh, who's that, Mum?" came a young girl's voice through the quiet dusk of the evening.

"Shush, Erin, you'll get me into trouble" was the hissed reply.

The man's eyes had turned to the mother and daughter as the slender figure of Leading Seawoman Writer Sally McGraw straightened and snapped a salute that would have made any DI nod a quiet approval.

A bit less briskly than that to the sentry, the Ensign returned the salute and using the same hand lightly waved away the mother's apology.

"I am Ensign HMS McCock of the Grenoble System Defence Force" he said looking at the bright eyed schoolgirl standing apart behind her mother holding on to her left hand. As he stopped so did his locker. The girl eyed the riding boots with their inserts secured alongside a rather high hat box on the top and turned her gaze onto his unusual dress.

"Why are you wearing that fancy dress?" she asked.

The Leading Seawoman blushed in embarrassment as she reprovingly gently shook her daughter's hand muttering a sharp "Erin" under her breath.

"No mind", McCock said to the mother as he realized that he did indeed make a strange sight dressed as he was in tan short riding boots, buttoned grey double breasted frock coat and jodhpurs with the yellow sash about his waist beneath the heavy sword belt with the long straps to the sword sheath and the flat brimmed slouch hat with its single ridge fore and aft on its crown.

Erin watched him turn to her again with a little apprehension evident as she shyly leant back into her mother's side.

"I graduated this morning from the Academy and have been granted a commission in my nation's military. This is my ceremonial undress officer's uniform or what we call 'walking out' dress. While I am on leave over the next four weeks I will be wearing civilian clothing before reporting for duty".

The mother quickly avoided the next question by bracing and briskly saluting:

"Thank you, Sir, if you will excuse us?"

"Certainly, carry on please", returning her salute.

As he gazed at the almost scurrying figures, he found that he could barely remember a time when he didn't wear a uniform.

His parents were officials in the Grenoble Government-in-exile (but factually were refugees) having been part of the last ditch defense of their planet against the Harbourian invasion. They were naval officers who finally met on Mountserrat at a commercial gathering whilst in the process of sorting out their families' shipping resources, most of which had been based here on Mountserrat because of the importance of the confluence of wormhole junctions (the "Junction") to shipping in the local galaxy.

He had been sent as a boarder to the Royal Mountserrat Agricultural and Military College as a Cadet in Grenoble's service and subsequently as an Officer Cadet upon entry to the Academy. He had never been on Grenoble let alone met either set of grandparents having been born the only child quite some decades after his parents' marriage on Mountserrat, almost as an after thought but never an accident his parents had protested.

When news of his grandparents' deaths filtered through – suspected to be a result of attempts to recover and transfer the families' assets back to Grenoble under Harbourian management – the Government-in-exile had certified the deaths and the wills, copies of which had been kept with the families' Settlement solicitors, were probated leaving the young McCock extremely wealthy in his own right because of his grandparents' taking a very long term view indeed with the punitive Grenoble inheritance taxes squarely in their sights. Those taxes never applied because the Government–in-exile could not tax its nationals whilst both were on Mountserrat. The Mountserrat government could and did tax but they did not have an inheritance tax; their House of Lords would have had a collective heart attack.

McCock was out of ear shot when Erin, who had been suspiciously quiet as they had quickly hustled away, looked up at her mother and said;

"Isn't HMS McCock a nice young man" and then went on in determined tones, "I think I will marry him when I grow up!"



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Chapter 2



The Sargeant of the Guard, a Marine Master Gunnery Sargeant in undress uniform, medals and sash, gazed studiously over the assembling crowd wondering once again how the 'newbies' could so totally on this one day each year disrupt his peace and tranquility. This was 'THE DAY'. The day when the schools' – many schools' - graduates arrived to begin their posting to the Weapons' Development Bureau. He had pointedly suggested to the personnel officer that the arrival should be staggered. His back channel to his friend the Space Lord's writer was repulsed with an acerbic, 'can't change the system, that's the way it's always been done'.

He surveyed his domain standing ramrod straight beside his Corporal watching his sentries' attempting to turn chaos into order as newly minted Ensigns, apprentices (he swore they got younger each year and most of them should still have been in short pants and dresses) and civilians fresh from colleges physically struggled in and against the tide of the civilian garbed naval personnel and hordes of tradesmen and labourers going to work in the grounds behind his guard house.

The 'newbies' were all supposed to be intelligent or at least able to read and write but the Gunny didn't believe it – their orders came with instructions to wear work dress (at least they all got that right) and to report for inprocessing at Gates 5 and 6 for other ranks, civilians etc and Gate 7 for officers.

Around the fringe of the crowd towards the 'newbies' gates he could see a loose clustering of the more experienced as they had started on that side at the rear. As he looked over the struggling throng a flash of light colour behind the throng caught his eye. It was passing rapidly toward his left outside the fence of the extensive front gardens. Some minutes later movement at the left periphery caught his eye and through the garden shrubbery came a grey uniformed figure walking briskly toward Gate 7 across the lawn.

He had never seen that uniform before. Warning bells sounded behind his eyes and telling the senior sentry at the post to follow him, he pushed through the lines at Gate 5 and 6 and, with apologies to the loose throng moving to Gate 7, through them, to intercept the trespasser.

Halting at the tail end of Gate 7 line, he watched the young man approach.

What he saw did not impress him. The tunic coat was collared of all things with the top button undone, there were expansable buttoned chest pockets and similar side pockets on the below waist flap; the trousers were, to say the least, baggy, and the colour was that ghostly light grey. Even his fore and aft cover (he later found out that it was called a forage cap) was that unrelieved grey. The only contrast was the black fleur-de-lis on the side of his cover, a black bar on each collar tab and the black low quarter shoes. Towering over the skinny underweight miscreant, the Gunny unleashed his best drill instructor stare.

"There is no gate over there!"

His stare was blankly returned from non descript brown eyes in a totally unexceptional face.

The Gunny repeated, "There is not a gate over there!!!"

The return gaze did not alter.

"Sir!!!?"

"Gunny?"

"I said there is..."

"Yes, I heard you!"

"Sir!"

Nodding to the Master Gunnery Sergeant, the grey clad figure stepped briskly around the fuming NCO, marched through the door marked 'Gate 7' and after a quick glance moved to the table marked "J – O", halted and presented his orders' chit to the seated CPO. A quick glance at the officer's face, a request for a signature indicated at a line under the CPO's gnarled finger was followed by the chip's return and

"Follow the green line, sir, lift to third floor, turn left and Room 3001 is at the end".

"Thank you, Mr Matson" and Ensign McCock made his entrance to Weapons' Development.



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Chapter 3



McCock knocked on the door of Room 3001 and heard the growled "Enter". Bracing himself, he opened the door and not quite marched in. Standing at the end of the room was the only occupant. Not quite sure what to do next as the man turned to face him, McCock took the safest option, halting to attention, he held his salute while introducing himself,

"Ensign Hezbediah Matthius Samuel McCock joining the company," then he cut the salute.

The man looked taken aback for a moment and then said,

"Welcome.", making a 'come on' sign with his right hand. McCock tendered his orders' chip which the man inserted into a type of reader McCock had not seen before.

"Captain Rowan RMN ... sit ... anywhere."

The Captain lowered himself into the arm chair at the end of the table as he read the information rather abstractedly muttering to himself as he did so.

Glowering under his eyebrows at McCock seating himself in the chair second from that end,

"Whatever possessed you not to specify a service branch – you could have ended up in Personnel, or worse, Supply. You came third in your year!" the Captain accused.

McCock considered the disheveled man in the heavy shapeless brown suit – he could have been a Postal Clerk from his appearance.

Held by the Captain's gaze, McCock removed his forage cap and placed it on the table while he considered his reply.

"I could work in almost any branch of the RMN Service. I am aware that I constitute a security nightmare and realize that clearances would limit offers to me..."

Rowan muttered, "You got that right first time!!"

McCock continued,

"In the next twenty years or so (your years not Tyears) this Kingdom will be at war with Harbouria. It will be for Mountserrat a life or death struggle as you will probably be outgunned by the Harbourites even if your politicians pull together which I don't believe will happen soon enough. You will be a large mouthful for Harbourites to swallow. My heritage requires me to help this system in ANY way I can to at least give the Harbourites a bad case of indigestion – terminal if I get my wish – as I can possibly by my help. If I get stuck in Supply, I will work diligently hoping to convince the powers that be that I can be trusted sufficiently for line appointments. If not ... Your industrial base can be brought up to just adequate but your great advantage is your research and development base with your great base and probably insuperable lead in minaturisation in command and control facilities. That will probably be enough on the equipment side and if, and I say, only if, it will be adequate then the major problem will be manning your warships of all classes. You follow, as do the Harbourites, the traditional ... ah ... carefree over-manning. To survive not only will you have to decrease present manning levels back to minimums, you are going to have to and I firmly believe the word is, HAVE, to automate your warships. You will need more warships than you can man at present levels. If you start now, today, you still won't be ready by war's outbreak because of the not only long lead times of development but your never willing politicians will not supply adequate funding for the necessary R & D. That is why I presented that unsolicited paper on automation to Commodore Courtney."

'I just hate those wet behind the ears news minted smart alecs who agree with me', thought Rowan.

"Yeh. Raoul was very impressed. He thinks you're about the third or fourth best tactician he has seen- the best graduated a year ahead of you, but he thinks you leave her far behind in your wake in engineering. Heck, he says you are the best he's ever seen – and you rank extremely high if not the best in coms and electronics; and you are no slouch on weapons either. Yeh, we can use you. We don't think you are a spy because if you were enemy, you'd make a far greater contribution to them by just working for them instead of spying on us. But still we've got a problem with your clearances. What we've managed is to get you access to this Admin Wing and to the repair yards where theoretically you won't have access to any news developments. Ha bloody ha!!. Right! Let's get you marched in. Civvies in future and keep your security card in a pocket and not hanging around your neck like the rest of the place. We'll only be able to get you a green card." Rowan waved McCock towards the door, "No covers in doors!!"

McCock slipped his cap into a side pocket as he followed the captain into the corridor.



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Chapter 4



McCock walked into the main gate up the wide pathway to the work's entrance. He recognized the burly Gunny, today in work dress, standing on the block at the guard post and saw him drink from a very large cup of steaming fluid presumably coffee; the quasi-addiction appeared to be universal throughout the Navy. It was early and only a small trickle of fellow workers were making their way along the path.

Rowan said his group started at 0700 – an hour ahead of the rest – "just to stagger the incoming crowd, you know?" Yeh, thought McCock, if you believe that there's a bridge I want to sell you. (He later found out that Rowan used the extra hours – he came in even earlier – to scan the daily work-in-progress reports of R & D).

The Gunny flicked his gaze disinterestedly over McCock and why should he notice? McCock was wearing clothing which looked as if it had come from the Seamen's Mission; in a way it could have as the kit was McCock's, worn during school vacations working – really working, he winced at the memories – at varying levels in his grandparents' freighters between Sol, Mountserrat and elsewhere. With his unprepossessing features, thin mousey hair cut short back and sides, short and skinny, McCock would pass unnoticed in any crowd except for his erect posture which did not attract attention in this environment.

McCock grimaced as he noted the rainbow coloured shirt accompanied by the startled rabbit look of the figure on his swipe card.

Ugh.

"Marty, the rainbow shirt on a green card " Rowan had bellowed into Room 3006 as he had pushed McCock ahead of him, "bring him in when you have done with him".

"Who's gonna sign the card?" grumbled the woman at the desk.

"My aren't you the happy one today? Get Wilson onto it" and he pushed away through the door on the other side.

"Johnno come and cover me".

The back door opened again and 'Johnno' stepped through.'

"How long will you be, I got that report to make?"

"Gimme thirty," beckoning McCock to follow. She went across the corridor to Room 3003, swiped her card, entered with McCock following like a lost sheep. His uniform had attracted puzzled looks from the rooms' four occupants. Marty looked at a slender woman and pointed at an impressive vault door. The slender woman looked over at the younger of the two male occupants with raised eyebrows. The younger man looked up disgustedly at Marty making a 'come on' gesture.

'It must be contagious', thought McCock.

"Don't you trust me?" Marty whined.

"Never in a million years and not with a total stranger wearing a dress uniform I've never seen before" taking the orders' chip from McCock's proffered hand.

Slipping the chip into his reader he quickly perused the top paragraph. He slowed as he continued down,

"My, my ... that's interesting ... very interesting" glancing up at McCock.

Finishing, the younger man shut down the reader, returned the chip to McCock and told him,

"When we finish with your card and you sign for it, I'll take your orders and file it in your documents". He pointed McCock to Marty who was now setting up an ancient camera in the corner. Looking at the slender woman he said

"Green card, eyes and thumb".

"Silas never told me eyes and thumb" protested Marty.

"It's in his orders".

"You know I don't get to read orders".

"Your hard luck", as the younger man swung open the vault door. He took a small plastic swipe card from a stack and pushed it into the adjacent reader slot. He was already punching in a numeric code into another small safe door as protesting beeps sounded. He completed the code, swung open the door and extracted a retinal scanner and a print scanner. He looked at the screen and extracted the rejected card and called,

"Who hasn't signed for 722"

"I'm still working on it and if I screw it up its easier to record it as damaged than the hassle of a full report" came the reply from the other male.

"Maitland, if you foul a card I'll dock your pay for it. How come you are still working on a green card?"

"It's for the new courier," said Maitland as he entered the vault.

"Thank you", said the younger man as the other returned to his desk.

The younger man plugged in the scanners, hit several keys on his board.

"Look into these and put your right thumb on that" as he raised the scanner to McCock's eyes and pointed for the thumb print. McCock did as he was told.

"My, he can do two things at once, please take note boys and girls" waving McCock towards Marty.

"Take off your blouse? tunic? coat?, put this on and then stand against the wall by the height scale" she told him.

'This' was a garish multi coloured upper garment that nobody sane let alone McCock would have worn in their worst nightmare.

"You don't wear uniform for your I.D." in reply to the raised eyebrow.

The younger man called

"Marty, when do you do your 'Chiefs'?"

"Aargh don't remind me. Two weeks now and I haven't done small boats since recruits".

"Ask McCock to help out – he's somehow got 'All Space All tonnage'."

"Has he now? Just look at the red light sir", and the world disappeared in a blinding flash of light and a loud explosion.

"When are you going to get that damned thing fixed?" sighed the younger man.

Dazed and half blind, McCock changed back into uniform shuffling over to the younger man's desk, signed the card, watched as it was countersigned and then sealed, handed over his orders' chip as requested and found his arm grasped by Marty who, as she guided him out of the room, called sweetly over her shoulder,

"Thank you, Commander Wilson" and turning to McCock continued, "and we have to talk about boat handling".

Commander??? Boat handling????



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Chapter 5



McCock was swiping his card for Room 3003, when he heard the lift door open and then light footsteps. He braced as a remembered voice said

"Ah! Making a good impression I see. Its first names – respectfully, please note – between officers at least. Paul.", all said with a pleasant smile.

"Uh. Well I was called "Aggy" at the Academy – I came from the R.M. Agricultural and Military College" in response to the interrogating eyebrow.

"Good engineering that lot" as he padded ahead of the ensign. "Good morning you lot" to his workers assembled round the coffee urn.

"You'd better not have emptied that urn" to the assembly from Rowan coming through the door.

"Here's your morning read" thrusting a handful of chips at the Commander.

"We did mention this yesterday but it probably got lost in the avalanche; each work morning, the section bumble bees gather together in the conference room, - 3001-, to discuss the breaking news; over breakfast coffee, grab a cup and follow me; don't worry about the taste it grows on you".

"Like tinea cruris". came from the background.

"Absolute hogwash" Rowan returned as he filled his cup decorated as it was with an eye patched pirate's head grinning evilly over crossed sledge hammers. Leaving the slender woman ("Shell" he later learnt) and Marty to cover the offices, the assembly trooped into the conference room with the Captain at the window end of the table with the Commander at the other.

"What's going to happen with Yarragh?" came from the Commander as he scanned the first document.

"Anyone?" Rowan asked.

McCock tentatively raised his hand. The ranking eyebrows ascended.

"During a long A&M break I was midshipman on one of our freighters which plied between Monticore and Yarragh. Had to present a class paper on the place. It's really too long to cover here unless we've got all morning."

Shake of CO's head,

"Can you get copies of that paper for us?"

"Yes, I've got one at home! ... Here in Settlement" he quickly added.

"OK; quick synopsis? From R & D point of view".

"Long time settled, diabolical environment, lethal if you are not careful, short life span even if you are, several nasty civil wars; basically an hereditary monarchy with only about ninety nobles with no lesser ranks, top notch mechanical, electrical, and nuclear engineering, deficient health research possibly restrained by a powerful church, with skewed birth gender ratio three females to each male which make male primogeniture difficult but leads to polygamy". The eyebrows were almost up in the hair lines.

"We'll wait that paper with interest. What's next?"

McCock tried to pay attention but the rest of the discussion was over his head, dealing with previous matters.

His Renmark paper did lead to a later prolonged morning group. This was the beginning of the push to make deeper contact. With his deeper commercial knowledge of the system, McCock's view was that Yarragh, with its great potential, would be a necessary ally against Harbouria. His opinion with supporting information was a definite factor in exploring formal contacts. (Unbeknownst to him, it enriched his future great grandmother in law. He was wrong about the clergy restricting research.)

After the meeting, a crowd returned to 3003 with McCock who gazed into the door retina scanner to enter the "Crypt".

'Silas's is the 'Dungeon', yours is the 'Crypt'' he remembered. The four occupants stood as he entered. He, sort of, perhaps recognized them again but that was all.

"'Aggy' McCock, Ensign" he offered.

"'Polack' Kowalski PO2 engineering".

"'Denny' Denholt PO2 EW".

"'Cowboy' Indira PO2 Weapons"

"'Slow' Gort PO2 TacNavComs" came from the sole female.

Any high school student would have recognized the type immediately – NERDS- all of them; even McCock, despite his erect posture as opposed to the undisciplined slouch of the others. But then he was a military school boarder hence the posture and failure to recognize the type.

"I know we are to explore automation in our ships to conserve manpower so lead me in on what you have been doing."

The others looked at Polack.



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Chapter 6



'Polack' took a deep breath as he punched up the holo of a ship's engine room with figurines placed at points about the diagram.

"We decided to look at a destroyer's engine space; we had to start somewhere and all ships are but a destroyer writ large".

He waved away McCock's raised eyebrows.

"We know that's not absolutely true Sir..."

"Aggy."

"Uh, Aggy, but as I said we had to start somewhere and small and simple we thought was better than jumping in on a BB's room."

McCock nodded agreement

"Show me how you are going".

Polack pushed another button and the figurines changed from holo blue to red or amber or green. At several points new half green / half blue figures appeared.

"The red are those we think we can either eliminate or combine with others. The amber are doubtful or combined. The green are the confirmed and the green/ blue new and confirmed."

There were only about twenty figurines in the holo. McCock asked,

"That's a normal steaming watch?"

After a few minutes he pointed at an isolated red figure at one end of the holo room.

"He appears to be a hold over from the merchant marine." said Polack "all he does is turn the valve wheel to control the flow of the flux from the fusion bottle and he does this in response to the annunciator at his position. The position seems wasted anyway on a senior NCO. We thought we would replace him with a motorized valve controlled from the command engineer's position."

"Have you worked that point?" McCock enquired.

"Not actually, I did my time on main impellers and sails."

Aggy went on

"That raised a number of points; bragging rights' time. Off on a tangent – standardized motors?"

"That's mine" said the brown skinned man eye to eye level with McCock, "I'm Weapons and as we started on the engine department first, they decided to keep me busy doing control motors because weapons use them too. I'm working on that and there are some very reliable commercial models available but we've got to decide how standardized we get and I've only scratched the surface on that one."

"Fail safe? What do you do if power is lost to the motor?"

McCock glanced around.

"Mine" said Denny "I got nothing to do anywhere in this being EW and we're basic anyway," to nods from the others, " I think I've got it taped. The axle of the valve, spindle or whatever will have a free square end. Having a free open end is a problem but can be made easily by economy of scale if it's fitted on all motors. Spanner end with lever arm, possibly a handle on the free end. I know (in response to a disbelieving grunt from Cowboy) space to swing it. Yeh, Yeh I'd want to make the "emergency spanners" (putting finger quotation marks in the air) standard throughout the ship."

"A bit ambitious but I like that thought. Brings us to sensors when we replace humans."

"Mine with help from Denny," put in the dark skinned crinkly haired short woman.

'Comfortable ass' thought McCock to himself and then mentally shook himself – 'keep your mind on the work'.

"Its going to be a major problem as where ever they are needed, it will have to be specifically ... ugh specified. The harnesses depend upon redundancy runs but are easily plannable from these; EMP shielding for motors and sensors we seem to agree upon but wireless control is problematic so far, and if not, monofilament wire or fibre."

"OK back to the original" as McCock pulled over a seat to the table and waved them back into theirs.

"For my up to then exemplary life, I was rewarded by my caring family with a working holiday to Sol on a family owned freighter. I did the outbound voyage with the Senior Tender. The real reason he is there is to listen. Turning the valve and watching the annunciators are just to fill in the time. The annunciators can be basically disregarded as they don't change often and the "bells", actually it's a beeping, attracts your attention when needed. You turn the valve often enough to even out the fluctuations for greater efficiency. You don't really have to continually adjust but it gives something to do and does in fact make a small contribution to greater economy – not a real navy priority. What he is really doing is listening for harmonics- that's why the course for it- but a greater problem is that the harmonic is specific to each power pack; you can't even train for a model or type. After each overhaul, the Chief Engineer sets up an intricate device near the impellers and puts them through their paces. At a certain point his gauges indicate a problem of resonance. Always at that point a transmitted harmonic is screaming at the flux gate. The flux gate is altered, the noise subsides. It's a flux flow problem and the flux fluctuates in flow- sorry about that –so the ears are needed otherwise bad things happen in the impeller room."

Slow offered,

"A tunable sensor isn't too hard but keeping it fixed between adjustments is hard; can be done; costs".

"Aren't we lucky" said McCock, "when we do finally get something sorted we have to defend it to THE BEANCOUNTERS" Groans from all.



-------

Chapter 7



The time passed with the Crypt at some time frantically arranging their lives to visit yards and ships. To talk with the people directly involved often meant accompanying a ship on its shake-down cruise post major overhaul interspersed with visits to the Naval Architects for exchange of ideas. The Architects' wing became the second home for the Crypt.

The various attachments meant repetitious contact with Sir Laurence Hernandes' office to get the necessary paperwork. The informal visits to the yards usually presented no problems except for the occasional hiccough over clearance as the Crypt had only Green Card entry. Requests from Captain Rowan as head of section for manuals and handbooks almost always circumvented the rare encounters with Security.

Sir Laurence's staff nicknamed McCock and his minions "The Cockerel and his Flock" because of the sometimes ruffled feathers left behind by the somewhat socially inept individuals of the Crypt. The Crypt continued to be used by third floor but the "Cockeral" stuck elsewhere.

McCock's personal skills rapidly developed as he smoothed ruffled feathers, egos, and pride which surfaced from time to time. McCock had, with Rowan's permission, taken to wearing RMN work coveralls with only his Grenoble rank bars on his shoulder flaps. He even messed with the POs as this didn't require change of uniform which might have raised protests to a greater height of 'spying' / 'interfering with ships crew going about their proper duty'.

The Room 3001 meetings defending the proposals became legendary in the Bureau. They were chaired by Rowan with the Crypt clustered at the other end. The top of the table was always covered with a hologram of the part under discussion – better called arguments. On one side sat the "yard" experts which included the Architects' representatives, and on the other sat the "users" group – serving fleet officers – never less than full Commanders.

"You can't use that universal spanner or what ever you call it on the cool air control of that environmental plant because there is not enough space between the racks and, no, you can't put another design in there because this was developed to fit the available space."

"How about an extension tube for the square?"

"That'll work."

"Buts that's a 'special' and I hate that. You know damned well that some idiot will grab it to use elsewhere and not bring it back and when you really need the bloody thing it ain't there."

"We could chain it."

"And there'll always be some fool who'll cut the chain etc, etc."

"There's a limit to how far you can fool proof things."

"OK, we accept a chained special with a clip frame to hold it out of the way?"

General nods.

"Why not recessed ends otherwise you'll get people cut and bruised."

"If it's damaged the recessed cover could foul access – it's a trade off."

"We'd better make sure we've got a good first aid box in the space otherwise there'll be a steady stream of skivers off to the Sick Bay all the time."

"What about the sensor at..."

At the end of the day, Rowan pushed the debris away from him,

"We'll agree this amended lot goes to the Architects?"

Nods all around.

Quiet murmuring broke out as the members closed down the PDAs and stretched cramped limbs. The senior fleet officer – a Rear Admiral – stopped by the exhausted and haggard Crypt.

"Despite us, that was a job well done," he congratulated them. "Who's next on your agenda?"

Cowboy Indira succinctly replied "Weapons".

"Hah!! and you think we're prima donnas" departing with an evil grin towards the slumping Crypt.



-------

Chapter 8



To the denizens of the floor, nobody else in the world seemed to think war was coming. It was all surreal. They worked long hours spending weeks on and off planet on short fleet attachments which left the Crypt always feeling dissatisfied. In the Navy, but not in space, navigating a desk going nowhere with blood – upon – the – floor arguments with always higher ranking serving officers from time to time. When he didn't have the duty, McCock, as an Ensign was required to undertake his rostered share of OW duties, increasingly took himself off on week ends to the marina to sail his sloop about the near coast. The habit got formed to take the Crypt as his crew. There was no shortage of company at the sailing club and the Crypt liked the relaxation in the bar and dining room. The Navy would have frowned upon the fraternization and the Membership would have been dropping black balls all over the place if they'd known that the Crypt were only Navy NCO's. But they didn't know and as far as they knew, the Crypt members just 'worked in the City'. Unbeknownst to each other, both Aggy and Slow 'played the market', both doing well for their respective economic base.

Slow was just one of the boys and she never lacked for company with her rather spectacular colouring and as Aggy called it her comfortable ass. The upper wasn't too bad either.

On the longer vacations there were often companions with the Crypt. The lack of nudity taboos in this Kingdom (on the beaches at least) took a lot of the hassles out of the Crypt's relationships. The access to the sloop was beneficial socially as the exposure to club members of the opposite gender in a relaxed environment rapidly took the rough edge off the Crypt. Their obvious intelligence and great technical general knowledge in their respective fields helped that intermingling. There were often dividends for the Crypt as exposure to some of the brighter in the commercial fields of engineering and electronics kept their information far more current than by just reading journals and reports.

McCock kept current with naval philosophy and tactics with the Royal Naval Institute's journals and lecture evenings – always reporting to the Crypt by summary and critique of what he had heard.

McCock's educating of his flock led to a severe episode of heart burn for Captain Rowan.

On a cheery spring morning some six years after the Crypt was formed when Silas was feeling at peace with the world; all his projects were ahead if not on time; the Crypt hadn't upset anybody higher than commander or a visiting peer of the realm in the past nine weeks; there was a minor earthquake.

Silas answered his com,

"Good morning Sir, Captain Rowan speaking, how may I help you?"

As per SOP when the caller was not identified. Silas could see the contact was in the Yard but didn't recognise the number.

"Rowan," came the growl over the line as the craggy unhappy features of Rear Admiral of the Green Roderick "Cruncher" Milligan appeared, "Tell me the secret! How does a bunch of PDA carrying bean counters beat my top team on tactics?"

"Good morning, Red. I haven't got a clue what you are talking about." Silas had served as Milligan's XO more than a decade past and as a friend of both the Admiral and his family was allowed the privilege of the nickname the short form of "Roderick the Red", both hair and temper.

"The inter department Tactical Exercises in the Yard simulators over the last three months or so."

"I didn't know my lot had a team in. Wait a minute, I remember McCock mentioning the Crypt wanted to play on the simulators on occasional weekends when they weren't being accessed by anyone else."

"That explains your signature on their sponsorship form and the restriction they could only compete weekends. You haven't answered the question. Laurence has told me I can't have them because they are yours."

"The Crypt?"

'Saints in heaven preserve me', thought Rowan, 'he's been to the Second Space Lord'.

"That's the unit name with your department's designation. Billy Considine, my aide, commed over the weekend and told me about it. It appears what could loosely be called my team, they are my flag staff for 32nd Cruiser Squadron – all nine of them- against your five. I don't know if Billy was gloating or pissing down my trouser leg. Five three and it was really worse that it sounds according to Billy. The five were comprehensive victories but the three were just wins leaving my lot almost a destroyed force incapable of doing anything afterwards. Single ship, squadron, fleet attacking and defending. What's going on there, Silas? Billy and the boys were going to lodge a protest because we can't find them in the Gazette."

Rowan made a strangled noise as he thought 'he won't, McCock is a Grenoble and the others are Petty Officers'.

"Oh, it's all right, I told them to just grow up. They got beaten fair and square. I just rang to congratulate you on a brilliant effort. We'll have to get together before my flagship sails. While she's opened up like a rations box, Laurence has got me over at Warminster College helping out at the 'Crusher'. Pass my congratulations on. Milligan clear!"

Rowan passed on the "Well done" at the next morning session to the Crypt's embarrassment. Rowan got some satisfaction from the blushes. They never did get together as when Milligan tried to make contact, Captain Rowan was in Gorgipest setting up the Crypt in exile.

And it was all and only McCock's fault.



-------

Chapter 9



Rowan was alone in the Dungeon having as usual arrived early. He had just replenished his coffee from 3003, sat himself down and punched up desk top com when the alarm lock sounded off. Someone – very high up- had been trying to get him before he had arrived, putting a lock on his com to open the link as soon as he punched in and that spelt major trouble.

It was.

The features of a stressed out Aide – de – camp to Admiral Dame Diana Halliday, Captain Percy Gantry, appeared on the screen. Silas had never been much taken by Percy's casual elegance even from Academy days –Silas had been two years ahead. Despite a fast technical track after the general fleet duties putting him about four years senior to Percy, Silas recognized that he was almost dead ended whereas Percy whose brilliance was undeniable and reliable was headed for his flag and probably his fleet if he didn't commit a disaster meantime.

"I don't know what you've done. I don't want to know what you have done. Diana wants McCock, whoever he is, and your good self here instantly preferably yesterday. She is in a vicious mood; metaphorically breaking up the furniture breathing fire and brimstone. She even beat me in this morning."

"McCock is out with "Pendragon" and won't be back for another two days. Will she want me to come over by myself?"

"I'll get back to you ASAP" and broke the connection.

"Silas, she wants an informal talk with you in Flag Officers' ante – room at seventeen hours. She knows you'll be in civies but at least polish your shoes and comb your hair before you get there!"

The connection broke down. How did he open up my com? Rowan wondered and suddenly sat bolt upright at the security implications.

Rowan spend the rest of the day tearing com security a new one, frantic with concern his files could be accessed. After a few very worrying days, cursing Aggy with every second breath, he was finally reassured that only Diana herself could access his com line remotely but couldn't get into the hard drives that were key protected. Rowan didn't believe that one little bit and that year the computer budget for the department went ballistic as did accounting when they received the accounts. Coms separate from hard drives and stand alone, no shared common access, com computers for each section.

" ... and I don't care if you are the Good Deity Almighty no one but no one gets access to my computers."

Push did not come to shove as Rowan had let it be clearly known he would put his parchment on the line over it. Some months later, he was quietly informed that remote flag officer access had been removed from all bureau computers but it remained so in the Yard.

"Pendragon" was delayed; she'd broken down with multiple Alpha node blow outs due to a flux surge which got away from a relatively new Machinist Mate. The subsequent inquiry found that the surge had been caused by contaminated reactor mass but that wasn't for several months; McCock had been on board and of course you knew what that meant – Murphy would strike without warning.

The delay was fortunate for McCock as it allowed Admiral Halliday to collect herself, somewhat.

The department found itself avoided by everyone and contacts were minimal, unavoidable, and strictly professional.

'Shell' informed every one each morning, that today's inspection had not revealed any evidence of the plague.

The Crypt reverted. They became more nerdish than ever, not looking at anyone, answering monosyllabically and not seen from dawn to dusk. Maitland couldn't remember if there was a toilet block in there.

"Pendragon" reported in. Expected to clear the outer ring an hour after midnight and dock by daybreak.

The feet dragged as they left that evening.



-------

Chapter 10



A disheveled McCock was asleep on Marty's seat with his head on his arms on the table. His light pack was bunched up under them as Rowan came in 3006's door. McCock stank of engine room.

Rowan shook him by the shoulder, nodded at the Dungeon's door, looked into the scanner and pushed the door open. McCock followed him and then stood looking like a tired lost browbeaten school kid.

Rowan filled a coffee cup, thrust it into McCock's hands, nodded towards the fresher and said,

"Here, get outside of this and get cleaned up. You smell to high heaven."

Fifteen minutes later, McCock reappeared wearing clean underblouse, summer weight work trousers and socks. He sat opposite Rowan in response to the ritual hand wave.

"The high quarters are saturated with lube."

"What happened – from the beginning."

""Pendragon" had just reported in when the message came in the Ensign HMS McCock RMN was to be picked up by escort in a pinnace inside the outer ring. I didn't correct the RMN. Didn't have a clue what was going on but knew it had to be Navy because if it had been personal I'd have been told. There was a very courteous but totally uncommunicative Marine 2nd lieutenant to collect me – I don't think he knew what was going on either – and escort me to the pinnace – the Admiral's pinnace, Diana's personal flivver. So I had a good idea what had happened. At least I was able to snooze on the trip home. Took about four hours. We docked at the Admirals' ramp and I was escorted to her outer office. Percy Gantry was waiting for me and he looked right pissed off, didn't say a word to me either just pointed to a chair. Escort and I sat – must have been uncomfortable for the Marine as he was sitting at attention, at least I squirmed around. Percy gave me a dirty look each time I moved. About an hour later a door slammed sounded like from the inner office – it was. After another half hour a buzzer sounded and Percy pointed me at the inner office door. Percy waved the Marine back. Marched in and halted before her desk. She was in full regalia, mess dress, medals, sash, orders the lot. I was about to report but she held up her hand, then she put both hands flat on the desk,

"Don't say a word."

She regarded me like I was something she wanted to scrape off her boot.

"When I want advice I'll ask experts. I won't ask a snotty nose wet behind the ears Ensign whose ship time is nil and probable can't find..."

I switched off about then; she really wasn't going to say anything of merit so I waited her out; it was short and sweet at least. Came back in as she was winding down.

" ... I want you out of the Bureau, out of the yard and out of the Navy as soon as possible. Report to your department and wait for Captain Rowan. Dismissed."

Walked out, picked up the escort, caught the air-shuttle and came here. Had to leave the Marine at the outer gate. He didn't have a card and I wasn't going to play nice and let him in. He's probably still around outside somewhere."

"Saw him looking lost and after I found out he was your escort I sent him off to where ever marines go."

"Probably the 'streets of heaven'."

Rowan looked puzzled.

"Old earth Marine marching ballad."

Rowan leant back in his chair and clasped his hands behind his head. McCock had seen the posture many time in the past and waited for the lecture.

"She can't get you out of your Navy. Heaven's sake she couldn't even get you out of the Royal Navy. She'd have to Court Martial you and that paper would have to come in evidence. It's too good to just dismiss it out of hand and that means her whole policy would be open to the court – in secret session of course but you can bet it would get out. She's got too many enemies who'd use it to tear her down. You'd be finished but so would she. I had to spell it out for her in words of one syllable – hasn't done me much good but don't worry" said he shrugging off McCock's dismay "I'm where I want to be and if she really wants to get rid of me and I don't think so she'll have to get me a promotion transfer and Laurence Hernandes says he's got just the spot for me if I want a flag.

But you are out of here and we don't know what to do with you.

I'm sorry Aggy, I really tried to head her off by stretching it that you were an Ensign straight from the Academy but it wasn't very diplomatic of you to write a paper on a matter outside your area of accepted expertise. How you could think that time bomb would stay in house here? – aarggh" and threw his hands up in the air in frustration.

"Caps in the corner, Silas?"



-------

Chapter 11



"Caps in the corner Silas?"

Rowan nodded – accepting the person to person talk with no recriminations.

McCock went on.

"I didn't expect the paper to stay in house; I wanted it to get out with plausible deniability for you. She's going to get people killed unnecessarily.

She's got a wild hair up her arse.

There is no way you can expect a 'lighty' with enough spare power to mount a big bore energy weapon to take on a big boy. I don't think a destroyer could do it – not enough spare power. You rip the one thing that keeps light classes somewhat safe, the need not to have to close with the big boys – not to have to get into knife range. A single large bore energy mount will probably only damage a big boy, even though you'll blow a 'lighty' out of space you've still got to get in undetected. Any hyper capable ship no matter how good the EW is going to be detected even by an enemy lighty and it'll open the range and use missiles to keep that beast away. The losses will mount up and it ain't going to be cost effective. However I think if you could mount such a weapon on say small craft you've got a better chance of getting in undetected and swarm the big boy – a couple of squadrons of mobile energy mounts. Shove then out of something like a general cargo freighter – all that lovely space in those holds becoming hangers for pinnaces or whatever but the sticking point is that we don't have a power source available for small craft to mount a BB graser/laser turret. Satan's canines, you'd be better off strapping a missile nest to a pinnace with EW – at least the missiles carry their own power with them.

Anyone using Horrible's system had better hope they get in undetected, be bloody lucky with the first shot and then pray, light incense sticks, sing hymns, ask Murphy to intercede with whatever Deity they believe in to get out safe. There are just too many improbables. A lot of people are going to get the shit shot out of them trying to take on anything bigger than a CA and the lighter ones can stand off anyway."

Rowan considered McCock.

"You really do feel strongly about this, don't you? I don't know that I fully agree with you but it certainly ain't gonna be examined closely. She's painted herself into a corner. I've got to write your fitness report – don't worry, she doesn't see it, it goes from me to Laurence. Take a month's leave – you have it coming- I'll consult with Sir Laurence to ... see where ... we ... can put ... you."

Rowans gaze went blank as he considered the ceiling.

Minutes passed.

"Now that's an idea ... we could use the Crypt too." Rowan after what seemed like an eternity, shifted his gaze back to McCock,

"Get out of here. Back in a month. The Crypt too."

He pulled a card out of his desk draw, quickly completed it, checked his calendar, made an entry on his PDA and passed the card to McCock.

McCock collected the card and his belongings and walked out in his socks. He didn't pass anyone coming in.

"I agree we can't afford to break up the team, but how are you going to keep them under cover so Diana won't see them, Silas?"

Rowan started to lean back and then remembered where he was – sitting at the side table with Sir Laurence Hernandes looking over Settlement.

"Bye the bye, here's Aggy's Fitness Report – yeh! he walks on water, jumps over mountains, performs miracles on demand and all that; I looked at that simulator competition 'Red' Milligan told me about – the Crypt completely blindsided me there, underhand sneaky bastards, they knew I couldn't consent to such an inexperienced collection of misfits entering the competition at those levels. That dumb blond, Denholt, he just seems to become part of his computer. You know part of it required the competitors to swap positions for each event?"

"That was what impressed 'Red'. That's another sneaky sod, he just sauntered in the morning after acting all unconcerned but I know him - served together as junior officers on the old "Monmouth"- and I knews he was jumping about inside. I nearly burst into hysterics when I realized he was clueless on the Crypt's rank structure – 'Just kids fresh out of the academy'. 'No real space time etc, etc!' Wanted to take them under his wing, bring them along – once Red got his claws into them, I'd never get them back. Back to your idea ... Aggy's people skills still down?"

"Much better particularly 'on duty' but outside that he still has the occasional stumble. The Crypt's have gone up more relatively speaking but McCock's last little episode means we're got no hope of sending them to Officer School. Look, I have a genuine project I want to set up and the Crypt, their identities and ranks aren't widely known despite all their exposure on the manning project..."

As Rowan explained his scheme, Sir Laurence became more relaxed, sinking deeper into his chair.



-------

Chapter 12



Fat slob, thought Sir Laurence observing the sole occupant of the dingy office and then rapidly revised his thought at the elephantine grace of a heavy weight lifter.

"Mr Thoreau?" enquired Sir Laurence.

"Sir Laurence," waving his visitor to lift chairs at a small side table, "you are visiting me in my role as Commander, Grenoble Defense Force Reserve, Military Secretary of the Grenoble government –in- exile and not as a merchant factor? 'Unofficially official'" as he indicated the other's civilian clothing.

As they settled themselves comfortably, he went on.

"Coffee, or I have some excellent Blakowitz double malt if you prefer?"

In response to Sir Laurence's finger at the pot on the table, he poured and waved

"Cream, sweetener?"

Sir Laurence shook his head, sniffed appreciatively at the aroma and tasted the contents of the proffered mug.

"Bridge brew, unspoilt, and strong enough to strip the barnacles off any wet hull." nodded Sir Laurence.

"Now, Aggy. What matter of such significance brings the Second Space Lord on a private visit to Grenoble's Mil Sec? Aggy is my only – how can I say- my only client as Mil Sec. He is the only regular member of GDF. Oh, there are numerous reservists, myself included, but only the one full time member."

"I must bring this up, distasteful as it is to me; your absolute discretion is necessary – oh there are no state secrets involved, its for the boy's protection."

"Fully granted. I was astonished at the task he was given. Automation of the vessels of your fleet. No, he has never breathed a word to me, and I see him quite often, twice a week, at the Partheon Club gym with his coterie; but as a merchant factor I have many contacts in industry in the city as well as my commercial contacts from shipping throughout the near universe. It's been what? Five or six years now and the team was very low level so it wasn't regarded as being of any great importance strategically by many. In a way, is isn't really, as there were no weapons or propulsion plants involved. Only a few people realize the importance of skilled people."

"We couldn't get funding for it from Parliament – they don't believe there's a wicked war a'coming so we had to work within existing budget and what resources we had. We were very fortunate Aggy had an interest in the problem. There is a lot of entrenched tradition."

"Could you get me a copy of his paper? I know of it, but its close held, and even I couldn't obtain it through channels".

Sir Laurence looked aghast at the large figure opposite.

"Come now, after seven years a paper on automation and manning can't be secret?"

Sir Laurence visibly relaxed into his lift chair.

"I'll never make an intelligence officer; I still can't get on top of my reactions at times. Apologies. I'll get my staff to dig it up. This gives me a lead into my present dilemma. Aggy has written another unsolicited paper which has drawn the wrath of the heavens down upon his head – no, it's intra service and it's got to stay that way. We have to discreetly get him out of sight. Firstly we would like you to, indiscreetly, let it be bruited abroad casually as if it is of no great importance that Aggy has shipped out, as say 2nd Mate on a tramp freighter, implying he sent in his papers without specifically saying so. Secondly, I need, to me directly, official consent from your government to send him as a seconded officer, off planet, but still within the Kingdom, and you'll have to trust me on this."

"I can give you the consent now. I gather this is to be tightly held."

As Sir Laurence nodded, the Commander moved gracefully to his desk, considered the screen for a moment or two and began quickly typing. Thoreau passed a chip to Sir Laurence as he returned to his lift chair. He drank of his coffee as Sir Laurence examined the chip in the PDA from his side pocket.

"Thank you. Aggy is off on four weeks leave so we can get ourselves organized at the Admiralty."

They chatted politely on, about the current local and inter planetary situation etc, to observe the niceties. Sir Laurence accepted Thoreau's offer of a lift to the Army and Navy Club.

As a result of Sir Laurence's insights into Commander Thoreau, a nondescript little man who said he was just a legal clerk working for a very old legal office in the old town and sponsored by the Senior Partner joined the Partheon and became friendly with Thoreau. Thoreau was never a spy - he never entered any military establishment nor any trading company except by specific invitation; never a spymaster as he never ran spies. He just collected information – commercial, trading, shipping - from his much traveled contacts, none of whom were aware that Thoreau had an immense bank of political and commercial intelligence of the local universe which somehow found its way into DNI's data banks.

They made a strange pair sparring in the Gym, the big overweight man and the nondescript little man with the surprisingly hard compact body.



-------

Chapter 13



Commander Thoreau did indeed see McCock and his coterie during those four weeks of leave. They came to the gym to work out. Noting how easily and gracefully they now moved as they practiced their warm up, he chuckled as he recalled their first efforts – he never thought any of those awkward clumsy children could improve. But Aggy was patient and after the first months of fruitless attempts, he changed the programme to old fashioned formal dancing to the shock horror of the regulars. He passed them gradually into individual free dancing – reminding Thoreau of ballet – and then after a year began to instruct them in unarmed combat. Thoreau had asked Aggy about the style of fighting and Aggy had patiently explained that it wasn't a competitive sport. It was unarmed combat – designed to kill or at least disable the opponent as taught over nearly a decade to the young Aggy by a gnarled battered old Sol marine who had retired to Mountserrat and ended up a gym instructor at A&M.

Aggy appeared happy enough as did the coterie. He admitted that he had no idea of what was happening but said not a word about what had happened. Of course Thoreau did not inform Aggy of Sir Laurence's incognito visit. He suspected however that behind the scenes there was controlled chaos.

Said the Second Space Lord to the First Space Lord

"James, I want to see the Baroness about some black funding." The First Space Lord looked over his reading glasses at his colleague, "Ummmm?"

"Silas Rowan wants to start a project developing a spaceworthy light attack craft weaponed up enough to swarm and give BBs headaches and small enough that single losses won't be strategically significant. He wants to do it at Gorgipest."

Sir James looked scornfully at Sir Laurence,

"Pull the other one."

"Oh, we've got a brilliant junior we need to hide for a few years, the project is worth while and within the capabilities of his team."

"McCock? Don't look so surprised, of course I heard about, even read that critique - both sides have merit although I do tend to favour McCock. It's a wonder the confounded thing hasn't appeared in the Journal."

Sir James waved his friend out, "See to it."

...

"Baroness Shadowdale, thank you for seeing me at such short notice."

"Always a pleasure to see and chat with you, Sir Laurence. Help yourself to the urn you know where the mugs are. There are times when I regret allowing myself to succumb to your foul naval tradition; very few though" as she lifted her nearly empty mug in salute.

"How can I help you, Sir Laurence?"

"We need some black funding for a research project - no nothing that you don't not need to know about, but one rather we'd like to keep quiet about as the traditionalists would start obstructing. Silas Rowan thinks it is sound and I agree. It's his project."

"How much?"

Sir Laurence mentioned a figure.

The Baroness blanched, "That's a lot more than my discretionary funds."

"Its over five or six years" Sir Laurence hastened to reassure his political leader.

"Even so. Urmmm, I'll see what I can do. Your coming here means there is some urgency about this?"

"Yes Ma'am, there is another small agenda. It is important we feel, but wont make any great change if it doesn't happen."

"Sir James let me know he approved – said he got Rowan over to brief him on the project. He indicated he knew of the other agenda but said that should not make any difference to the project but one did depend upon the other. Rather confusing to say the least. Alright Sir Laurence I'll have a word with the PM."

She met the PM several days later in the back robing room at the House of Lords.

"Good morning Francine."

"Morning Your Grace, a quick word if I may?", she went on "Sir Laurence wants some black funding and its out of my authority – says its over five or six years – but past experience says to go eight to ten and about half as much again, Sir James approves."

She named the base figure which caused only a slight eyebrow raise. He made the wave of his hand for more information.

"It's for a news weapon system and will have a significant multiplier effect for current vessels. I'm told it's certainly do-able. Appears the ultimate cost might be 'techy'." The PM turned to his PS.

"Hide half somewhere for a three year's budget but I want an oral brief first." Looked at his P.S. who indicated

"You've got 25 minutes tomorrow afternoon."

The PM nodded at his First Lord of the Admiralty.

Captain Rowan entered Admiral Halliday's office, "I've just briefed the PM and its half financed."

"You are certain you are not taking any resources from here?"

"No Ma'am, we can get enough at Gorgipest."



-------

Chapter 14



Rowan had been absolutely truthful.

In compliance with Admiral Halliday's orders, McCock was out of the base. However as it wasn't possible to remove him from 'the Navy', neither hers nor his, that little bit of her orders was conveniently forgotten. What had happened the day before Rowan saw his Admiral was that Sir Laurence's office itself – not his minions – had transferred McCock to HMSS Gorgipest on detached service reporting directly back to Captain Rowan. No mention had been made of the fate of the Crypt and as Rowan wanted a 'good team' for his project so the Crypt were posted as a team whose OC was McCock for project "Crawler" – the development of a ship borne heavily weaponed armed cutter. As Rowan very carefully said he did have a good team for the project and totally separate from Gorgipest resources.

Sir Laurence just forgot to tell Gorgipest about their most recent personnel acquisition.

The Cockerel and his Flock were en route to their new post when the first little bombshell disturbed their tranquility. The decision had been made to send them by commercial freighter. Slow had been bored out of her mind. The men had managed to hook their PDA's up to the freighter's power. Initially not compatible, the power had been transformed through a home made contraption constructed, if that word could be applied, from salvaged 'ware from the engine room and electronics from the radio shack which were superseded parts – but still worked so 'we can't throw them away'. McCock had produced his 'All Space All Tonnage' ticket and was promptly employed as a supernumary – at pitiful wages – by the Master who had sailed minus one watch keeper who had not reported back on board by departure time out of Mountserrat.

Slow's enraged scream had shattered the quiet,

"We've got to find our own quarters", drew the attention of her work mates.

Wrenched back to reality from "Marine Recapture of Sol's Moon Mkv", one of the older games for purists in the virtual reality world,

"What?", "How's that", "Read it again" came across muffled by helmets as they were removed and the eyes turned to Slow.

"Our orders say we get our own accommodation and we get LOB allowance. My chip doesn't tell me where or when I report for duty."

There were scrambles as the others located their chips. Polack complained

"Mine only says I'm posted to Gorgipest for Project Crawler; hey that's the date we left Mountserrat. Yeh, not to base, LOB. That's strange; this chip is classified secret."

He looked at the others,

"Orders are usually marked confidential".

The second was delivered by Aggy who just then came through the hatch. He brought them up to date.

"For reasons I do not quite understand, Rowan put a proposal up and got it approved. The Navy now feels the need for a warship based armed cutter which is to be as heavily armed as possible in a warship role rather than just a commerce destroyer."

Slow looked incredulous,

"Just the five of us? Not a chance!"

McCock smiled beautifically,

"The powers – that – be have great faith in us."

"They are probably setting us up." Denny snorted.

"Don't you trust the bosses?" drew derisive comments. "Seriously, there is a considerable budget behind this which is going to be managed by the Crown Agents on Gorgipest. The plot is that you are already on duty – from the time we departed Mountserrat.

My family company is funding us in "The Green Man" hotel in the Port – its not too bad, I've stayed there before some years ago and if I'm recognized it will be as an apprentice watch keeper from the old Bollard Line which is my family shipping line – my interests are in a locked up trust so I'm not traceable.

Polack you and Cowboy will start looking primarily for a work site – a small yard and secondly for accommodation.

Slow, you start now heavily getting on top of counter surveillance – there is a lot in your PDA. There is a lot more plus equipment is this ship's holds for us. Denny, you back up Slow. Also you two will be looking for our accommodation. My plan – and it is mine in this – is that we get a free standing dwelling dirtside. Separate units for each if possible – we are going to live normal lives while we are here and that is years – no different to fleet. While we are in "The Green Man" we only talk about getting a place to live and somewhere to work."

"You haven't told us what size yard etc." quizzed Cowboy.

"Something that can handle, say, cargo transshipment barges."

"That's about 1500 tonnes." They all looked thoughtful.

"I'm not going to cook or be the housekeeper." flatly stated Slow, glaring at her friends.

"Slow, would we be such chauvinistic males?"

Slow just looked.

Shoulders shrugged.

"Where will you be, Aggy?"

"There is a hold full of commercial ship building equipment plus a sealed container of computer ancillaries for us. There are two pure Navy 'puters in that box as well on which we can FTL com Silas direct or break into Navy Yard on Gorgipest – unofficially please note. The equipment will have to be put into a security warehouse until we get our yard. I'll be organizing that and making contact with the agents".



-------

Chapter 15



"The Green Man" proved pleasant enough, catering as it did for the middle level at the yards and occasional residents of itinerant ships' officers. It was within walking distance of the shuttle ramps to both yards hovering in near orbit and to the city dirt side. The hotel had a well stocked bar and kept a good board for the steady flow of diners; you didn't dine out there, you 'ate', - a dockside café rather than an up town restaurant. Mine Host ran his establishment well and pardoned no nonsense; his memory of faces, in all variations of disrepair, meant here were no second offenders.

The Flock did later retain a suite there. The yard was the easiest to find, the accommodation being necessarily linked to its position. A somewhat ambitious money manipulator from Sol made a moderate sized investment setting up a small ship repair and construction yard. She had expected a war based boom in construction in this sector. She was a decade or so premature but after a decade of just not breaking even, she cut her losses. She had planned her retreat well; disposing quietly of all the near new machinery but in cover replacing it with much older machines thus not alerting her financiers. She had however totally stripped the command electronic equipment from the less open spaces. All that was left of the company was not enough to cover the debts so the yard went into trustee – in - bankruptcy hands.

Polack and Cowboy were hopelessly out of their depth once the yard was located and found to be available; Aggy wasn't much more experienced even with his shipping experience which had been more on decks than in offices. The Crown Agents in Gorgipest, Mantly, Ferguson, Hunt, (MFH) were a commercial financial management company; they believed they were acting for the McCock family and its shipping interests.

MFH made the purchase and everybody was happy. MFH, because it made a good fee. The Administrator, having sold the lemon, got higher fees. The banks, because the loss was significantly less than anticipated – with the interest payments, they just broke even. The Kingdom, although only a very few were aware of it, because it acquired a nearly new yard at considerably less than it would have cost to construct and emplace.

The Flock were ambivalent. Happy because they could now get on with "it"; unhappy because "it" looked overwhelming and seemed beyond their combined skills.

Rowan however had nicely judged the situation, although even he was not quite sure. Despite the significant funding involved, most of which was recoverable e.g. the yard and machinery, Rowan speculated that there was a quantum leap forward available. He assessed that a tremendous amount of knowledge to which the Crypt had been exposed during the near decade of automation, miniaturisation and de-manning, had rubbed off onto five highly capable people. His initial plans to send the Crypt to the Academy got scuttled by Aggy's blotted copy book, 'Teeth, rather drowned under a barge load of excreta'. Rowan couldn't even get Warrants for them let alone to Officer Training because even those would have to go up to Diana's desk.

The Flock took some three months to get the yard fitted out with the new machinery. They used the offices in the yard for temporary accommodation whilst working on the site. The services of consulting engineers and numerous contractors were utilized to get the yard running.

Finally after all the sweat, the Yard opened literally with a bang.



-------

Chapter 16



McCock leapt out of bed at the first crash on the door. He went automatically into fighting mode but quickly relaxed as he recognized the suite in the "The Green Man". Muttering reassurances he patted the shoulder of his companion.

"Hold!" as he pulled on his trews and moved to the door. He beheld Mine Host looking untidy and upset. Aggy reflexly grasped the com thrust into his naked stomach, not quite quickly enough.

"Oof", as he staggered back half a pace. Mine Host's brogue was almost unintelligible; his eyebrows raised at the sight of the tossled redhead peeping over the covers,

"Don't switch your bloody com off. Leave that on the frame as you go out" and a little more kindly, "I'll get her a shuttle home in the morning" nodded and thumped off toward his apartment.

"Yes?" holding the com looking at the view screen which quickly resolved into Slow's troubled features,

"Her?"

"Erin. What's the disaster?"

"You look after that girl, she's too good for you. We need you here yesterday, a runaway barge just crashed into the front gates, I declared salvage on it." all in one breath.

"Give me forty five, the flivver's at the ramp. Clear."

Turning quickly, he gathered up his discarded clothing, dressing as he moved across to the bed where he sat down to put on his footwear. He glanced at the now sitting girl with her pert breasts pointing at him. She nodded at his hands holding a high quarter boot,

"I see why you like that style." She was totally unfazed.

"Go back to sleep. Mine Host will look after you. Tell him to put the ride on my tab." As he bent into her held up arms to quickly brush her cheek,

"I'll be in contact." Going to the door, turning back to pick up the com with an embarassed look, retraced his path and went out the door.

Aggy replaced the com at the front desk; made sure the door was closed behind him and at a fast walk went to the ramp.

To himself, he muttered, as he moved through the night 'Foolish, I was off guard, tranquilised by the room and Erin. If that com had been a knife or a 'stick' ... I'll have to keep my guard. What did she mean about 'too good for me'?'

He approached the flivver with more caution than usual and pressed the key sequence. As he walked around to the hatch, he saw the amber pulse on the key,

'How did she get the time to fix the flivver?' Slow had fitted the flivver with a very hidden alert which showed the number of times the hatch had been opened since the last shut down. He looked directly at the flush mounted welding glass and the amber pulse changed to solid green. The hatch seal shimmered and irised open. If the retinal pattern had not been recognized it would have stuck shut. The red alarm on the key was a warning that the flivver's proximity alarm had been triggered and if entry was still attempted an audible weapon was activated that would disable everyone out to orbit – at least Aggy thought so when he heard it tested. He hadn't been able to work out how the hatch could iris without positive scan and a clear proximity. Slow had just smiled at him and he put it in the mental too hard basket.

The power had sequenced, the hatch sealed as Aggy placated the AI with a thumb print and his full name.

'This is taking things too far, still I can't be paranoid enough and Denny is getting practice.'

Aggy gently powered off the berth after getting clearance from Harbour Circuit and onward clearance to the GmBH yard. Settling himself into his seat he felt the restraints adjust and then powered up to the pad for suborbit.

The yard was on the inner end of the commercial yards in full view of the passing shuttle traffic to the yards and harbour beyond. On the other side of the channel was the Navy yard. The Flock had to restrain from nostalgic glances at it – feeling strange in the commercial environment despite the years of civilian clothing – and that was another thing – we all dress like off duty Navy – have to talk with Cowboy he's the one with the dress sense – what there is of it.

Aggy felt the loss of gravity and then the pitch of engine noise, the slight gee force as the flivver altered heading into the main channel.

Erin? What am I about?

They had met at a "The Green Man" Happy Hour. The redhead had tripped over his foot as she passed on the way to the food board. He still wasn't sure just how 'accidental' it had been. The Flock had been still full time at the hotel. One thing led to another and soon the groups had joined tables and quickly settled down. A few dances made them more comfortable with each other; they moved well on the kerchief dance floor; she complimented him on his skill; he returned the compliment as he looked up into the green eyes; she worked in personnel at the Navy yard; he was setting up a facility as part of the family interests; they thought the Navy yard was going to expand sometime in the next decade or so and Aggy had an interest in things mechanical.

"The Flock?" McCock, son of cock, old world, male bird, so cockerel; your features? Great-grandma, Nanna Nan, she adopted me and raised me, an octoroon who had a darker child out of wedlock; Grandma's on the farm on Griffen. I spent a few holidays over there – much darker than Nanna Nan, Grandda is a red haired man from Sol. Mine Host is almost identical in sight and sound. Mum got the red hair and the eyes, I never knew Da – they married in the Navy he was a secretary to some one in Admiralty and Mum met him when she had to take some papers there – there's a story there but Mum won't talk. He died in an air car accident, Mum handed me over to Nanna Nan and took a posting on Madigar. Da was a few generation of Indo-Chin hence the eye folds.

"Me?" born and bred on Mountserrat, officially Grenoble, educated as a boarder at A and M later the Academy in Engineering, GDF reservist, laughable there isn't a GDF anymore. Her Masters in Psychosociology from MU got her the job here in personnel.

The time had passed quickly.

Further times spent together enjoyably and the romance germinated.

The relationship was helped by Erin's friends. The Crypt seemed to mesh with the group about them. The friends worked at the yard and various government agencies. The stand out was Slow's friend who was an IT expert who had realised that more money would be made out of consulting and marketing than sitting at a screen. He was back and forth Mountserrat - Gorgipest with a trip to Sol now and again to see the latest.

"Now and again" had snorted McCock "It's a six month round trip even by rapid passenger service." Slow disregarded him.

Rowan, however, noted the situation. He had made a regular inspection visit to R and D at the Navy yard. His usual accommodation was "The Green Man", so it wasn't surprising that casual social contacts were made. Under cover, which was really too strong a description of that contact, McCock was told that some research results and other information on Bureau developments 'and there was some neat work on counter missiles/nests there' in password protected files on the Yard computers. This could be accessed by either of the 'black' computers and, surprise, the password was McCock's service number but Rowan expected Slow to change that very quickly.

"Him. Oh he used to be my boss when I was in their yard for a year or so after the Academy; he regularly visits yards all over the galaxy (that was true); just keeping contact; probably wants a job with the family when he gets out" (a gross slur on Rowan, but believable).



-------

Chapter 17



The navigator alert notified McCock that his last way point was fast approaching. After obtaining clearance, McCock, going manual, turned and took up the yard's heading. He was pointed at a solid flare of white light, which, as he came closer translated into the glare of several large portable lights illuminating the wreckage of the yard outer gates in which was embedded one end of a barge – about three to five hundred tonnes he thought. He hoped it was the low end of that size or the inner gates could be breached as well and that would be difficult.

"Aggy?" Polack came up on the comm.; must have seen the nav lights approaching. McCock activated landing lights.

"Hello Polack, How's it looking?"

"Not too expensive. The tugmaster is on his way back. Didn't even know he'd lost it until Slow got onto Harbour Control. This was the last in line and it broke away as he turned for home. There's a second one loose out there somewhere in the channel but Approach Radar have it. Can you get your light along the hull and give me the line along the hull. These leads won't reach. We should think about self powered lights some time."

"Put it on the 'would like to have list'. This suit you?"

"Can you come down just a bit I want to see if the hull has crumpled. That's it. Can you rotate round the hull, I'll move with you."

The Harbour Master arrived in his barge just before a small flivver joined the crowd. McCock completed the circle and as he stopped and floated over the free end of the barge the Harbour Master came over the local inter ship band,

"Ahoy the yard, Harbour Master here, anybody hurt and what's the damage?"

"Polack go local," ordered McCock.

"Got him, boss. Harbourmaster I'm the floater over the gates. No one's hurt. The inner gates are intact but the outer damage won't be known until the barge can be removed. The barge has considerable damage right forward with the air lock wrecked and the bow will have to be rebuilt. What sort of barge is this? Not seen it before."

"Tugmaster here. It's a cargo- in – atmosphere; usually inert gas to keep the pressure; special type for special cargo for specialized ships. Harbourmaster, will you come up on dedicated?"

After several minutes of silence over local, the Harbourmaster came back.

"HM back. Tugmaster authorizes you to extract the barge. His insurers might quibble they could get the work done cheaper but it is your outer gate. He'll put it strongly, for obvious reasons, that you get the repair work for your gates and the barge. Secure the barge now and leave it until full light. Make sure you bill the insurers for this work. I'll place beacon radar buoys around just in case some idiot is travelling too close and is blind. Good night. Harbour Master clear."

The flivver yawed and headed off to the Port. The barge lit her beacons and did a swing around the wreck well out to the edge of the channel, dropping off the flashing wreck buoys.

"Polack, go personal," then "who's with you?

"Denny, and Cowboy, they are passing lines now and it looks tight."

"When everyone's happy, come up to the office, and leave the lights. There are too many idiots out there. Aggy clear."

McCock piloted the flivver to the personnel entrance and secured the flivver to the yard hatch. He operated the hatch, and, after it equalized, stepped through. Grasping the central pole, he reset the flivver's hatch and entered the office. As he propelled himself into the glare of illumination of the office, Slow waved at the coffee urn and slipped into a chair fixed to the bulk head with a table to hold her in,

"It's hot. Did you lock it?" Slow took a personal interest in that flivver and was more paranoid about it getting stolen by some hot rodder than the rest of them put together.

"Dirt side I can understand, but out here?" as he filled his bulb with the coffee. Slow glowered,

"Your can never be too careful." Mc Cock slid next to her.

The office hatches cycled and the men were heard getting out of skin suits. They propelled themselves at the coffee urn, untangled themselves laughing, filled their bulbs and joined the others at the table. Cowboy looked at them,

"That was satisfying. Felt like I achieved something, an EVA – haven't done one of those since school," McCock looked troubled frowning. Denny queried,

"Boss?"

McCock paused collecting his thoughts,

"That was dangerous, too dangerous. EVA in skinny suits and lines. Jagged edges. Polack put EVA suits on the wish list. I'll send Silas a heads up for some surplus to requirement. Our sizes should still be on file. I just didn't think far enough ahead on this job. Didn't think outside the yard. All small shops have to go outside from time to time because a lot of their work is shipside."

They sucked on their bulbs still coming down off the high despite McCock's admonitions. He spoke reassuringly,

"Still that was a very good job, well done by all." Several minutes passed.

"What obvious reasons?" Slow asked. Aggy replied,

"The longer the gates don't work the higher claim for loss of income, goodwill, etc." Several derisive sounds were made and McCock rose and put his bulb in its rack.

"Here is the plan. Denny, first thing you hire a couple of EVA suits- from salvage hire somewhere. The rest of us are going to get some remotes to have a look at the gates from the inside and design a coffer dam to close off the outer gates with the barge in the air lock; when that is done we'll bring the barge inside and start working on it. Make us look as if we are hungry for work and force the insurers to deal with us. Get some sleep, and no one moving until two hours of light- I want clear heads – well, relatively speaking."



-------

Chapter 18



It was mid afternoon when the tugmaster returned with the barge owner. By that time McCock had pulled the barge out of the gates with the flivver. Denny and Cowboy had to cut off a twisted plate from the barge that was still embedded in the gates sealing edge. The barge itself was tethered off to the side at the outer wharf the yard had for the handling of any large deliveries. Denny had rigged warning beacons on either end as a hazard to shipping. That was rather overkill for a hulk tied up alongside but McCock was going to play this for everything he could.

"My man declared salvage on this to the Harbour Master when he was notified last night." McCock was mortified that Slow's comment to him hadn't registered. "So we will bring it inside as quickly as possible. The bow, is it the bow? Or whatever will need replacing back to the second bulkhead. The hatch is wrecked and it will have to be replaced as one piece. My inspection team tells me there is cargo in there. That is ours by salvage rights. I would be interested to know what it is. There are shipper's marks on it and I recognize them from Renmark."

"How is it you recognize Renmark marks?" The barge owner was quite intrigued, "There's not many who do."

"My family's ships occasionally run to Yarragh."

"Oh! Those are inertial compensators made on special order for the Gorgipest Sporting Yachts' yard. I know the GSY and they were enthusiastic about getting them. Seems Renmark has a good reputation for impellers and IC's."

"Well, have the insurers contact us with the invoices and shipping documents. We don't want to get off to a bad start here, so we can sort out who pays what. We have an interest in the longer term of building intra system lighters. We'd be interested in those IC specifications – of course, ( he smiled sneakily) we'll know the costs from the invoices. We aren't going to be a competitor for yachts but we might look at the odd one – off speed yacht. By the way where is the scrap yard? We'll have to dispose of that bow when we cut it off. If your insurers are interested in covering salvage we'll need the drawings for that air lock and an air lock itself."

"Well," said the barge owner amusedly, "that covered everything I wanted to say. What sort of money are you looking at?"

"Cost plus 10% to restore it to working order. I know we could get a lot, a large lot, more if we repaired and claimed the eighth salvage, but we are looking at a long term here. We want to establish a good reputation. This was fortuitous for us – a stroke of luck – it does give us an opportunity to demonstrate the quality of our work and that we play fair."

"The insurers will jump at that. Your feet will be welded to the deck plates so you can't get away. I will keep you in mind and, if your work is top quality, I'll pass the word."

McCock looked at the tugmaster,

"Your insurer is not going to like you. Those gates are going to have to be removed to a foundry for straightening and alignment of the inner sealing edges. Fortunately they can be opened so removing them should be simple. That cut in the gate will have to be molecular welded for integrity. We can deal with them over loss of potential income even with the barge inside. That is salvage and any profit on that will be discounted. We have to have an air lock there and with the outer gates gone we would be and are closed for business. We'll have a temporary coffer dam but that seals the place completely."

"Who are your insurers?"

"MFH handles our affairs." McCock grinned evilly as MFH had a hard reputation – and charged for it.

"Ouch." They talked on for awhile about the drawings for the bow and the barge owner said he would get his staff to locate an air lock for the barge. The men shook hands cordially; the others unhooked themselves from the rail and cycled through the public airlock into their flivver.

"Inertial compensators?" queried Polack, "They are a bit small. Too small even for a space yacht."

"That's what the man said " confirmed McCock, "I asked for the specs and we should get them as I promised them a good deal on the salvage. Listen up people. It's going to affect our real purpose but it really will establish our cover. Modified plan..." derisory groans floated about the room.

"Here we go again."

"Hurry up and wait."

"Get ready to get ready."

"Come on," said McCock "it's not too bad. We could set up that barge and repair it in two working weeks and still not rush it. But it's going to take about six week to get those gates fixed; remember No 4 gate at the Bureau; well that gives us some time to get organized on the project. Slow, while the boys build the coffer dam, you get on the computer, open those files, and start collecting information about the systems we will want to look at. As an off the wall thought see what Silas and his lot have on Renmark impellers and ICs. Charley Ferguson, the barge owner, seemed to think there was a good reputation there. We'll take a couple of days to get on top of the broad idea Silas had dreamt up for us. We'll be living up here but retain a suite dirt side for business trips and our weekends off. What we do here is half of us each second weekend so there will always be someone here – 'always open for business, you know, keen young people, always working, hand to the plough'- what is a plough anyway? Any problems?"

"When am I getting my EVA." complained Slow.

"When we get a suit that fits you." laughed Denny, looking pointedly at her posterior. Slow sniffed disgustedly.

Cowboy tentatively raised his hand. McCock nodded,

"We are going to need mock ups and with work in progress in our dock. I can't see it secret and I can't see a good cover story. Warships just look so different from commercial and you can't hide them in plain sight. Weapons do tend to make an impression."

Polack offered his suggestion,

"I really would like to work in gravity." The others nodded. Denny had his credit's worth,

"I'd need a 'clean' room for my EW equipment and Slow will too. We could manage here in this area but again the equipment is recognizable and there are a lot of people who would 'make' it."

"I'll have to consider our options here – it would be wonderful if there was not need for our cover story – we didn't really think this out fully – damn that woman anyway."

"Now, now" rebuked Slow "remember she is an Admiral and our superior officer – just think you wouldn't have met Erin if not for Diana."

The Flock's faces went blank as they pointedly didn't look at McCock.



-------

Chapter 19



"How much of this goo do we need anyway?" moaned Cowboy as he twisted himself between the barge hull and the coffer dam edges, trailing the applicator tubing over his suit's shoulder. He rotated to prevent the umbilical cord looping about the suit.

"A lot" came the rumbling reply from Polack, "keep it off the sealing area – it's a devil to remove without using a vibrating chisel and that scratches the surface and that's not advised. That's me finished. How much longer for you, Cowboy?"

"Ten."

Polack retreated along his umbilical cord back to the bulkhead platform where the connections were. They had pushed the barge into the lock with the damage away from the platform so as not to cut the hose connections on a raw edge, and that bow was jagged. The gates had been fully opened with a bit of a push from the flivver because of the torque in one of the gates from the impact. Once opened the gates were left ajar after the barge was manoeuvred into the lock and that had been interesting for a while needing constant adjustment of the winches as the hulk was pulled into position. Slow had used the flivver for the fifth line to give a drag away controlling inertia into the lock.

The dam had been off set from the edges to keep it off the gates' sealing surface. The frame had been bonded around the hatch edges when the foundry's barge had arrived to remove the gates. McCock had stopped the work on the dam for safety reasons. They had watched the powered barge come alongside. Having hassled the damaged barge into the lock, the Flock was able to appreciate the skill of the foundry crew as they used differential pull on the lines with controlled bursts of power from the barge's engines. Two crew men had moved to the hinges and removed the securing pins. As the men floated just away from the hinges, the barge pulled under the 'bottom' edge and then lifted taking the gate off its hinge. Two other crewmen moved over the gate, bracing and securing it to on one side of the barge; the barge had then moved under the second gate and lifted it off. When both gates were secure, the barge backed off using engines and the holding lines then came to a full stop, allowed the tension to come off the lines as the crewman replaced the securing pins into the pivots. The crewmen disconnected the lines from the bollards and holding onto two each, the crewmen were winched to the barge. They moved across the secured gates and strapped themselves into their bench. The barge then rotated around and powered off towards the foundry.

"Neat" had muttered Cowboy.

McCock had led his people placing the sheets under Slow's direction from the control cabin. She got that job because she still didn't have an EVA suit and someone had to give the directions from the plan to bond the covers to the frame. Polack and Cowboy got the job of sealing the free edges. McCock had decided to bond the dam behind the edges of the airlock gates.

Cowboy joined Polack at the platform.

"Looks good to me."

"Yeh, Denny pressure it up will you and we'll see how good it is," called Polack.

Denny and McCock had joined Slow during the sealing process and had been setting up the locking braces to hold the barge and also to programme the dock computer.

The EVA suits external sensors advised the outside pressure was rising and the gas was breathable air without poisons.

"Pressure up" advised Denny "physically inspect the seal".

Polack and Cowboy kicked to the end of the barge to inspect the seals around the dam's edges against the lock. Denny warned

"Cowboy take care, those edges could puncture that suit." The pair passed along the seal visually inspecting and occasionally probing.

"No bulging under from my side," advised Polack.

"Holding my side" came from Cowboy.

"Stand by cracking inner gate now; good pressure here," called Denny. "Clear the inner gates – not that there is anyone there – the rest of us are up in the office. But let's get the procedures established. Come inboard you two. Aggy and I are coming out in our skinnies. We'll pull the lines and you two secure to that bow."

The figures floated down from the office to the dock assembly frame, came through the middle of it, picking up the free ends of the lines which had already been placed. Denny called,

"Slow, loose the winches but keep slight pressure on the drums to stop an over run."

Slow replied in disgust,

"Teach your mother to boil water; I've left a foot pound still on the drums. Push off why don't you?" with a chortle "wanted to say that to Aggy for years."

"You'll get yours," came his voice as the pair pushed off to the bow where Cowboy was waiting, "just secure the inbound cleat for now until we get the bow turned in. Polack, loosen off and keep the pull on the line. Slow, heave away on Denny's - we have to establish a system for designating winches – stand clear Cowboy until the bow swings past you- hook on now and then go to the stern to loosen up there; shorten up on my line and tighten to low tension; Polack unclip and stow your line and help Cowboy let go there. Hold. Polack, take your line back to the stern and secure it on the outer side. Cowboy, unclip your outer stern line and stow. Polack you tighten up against Cowboy as he loosens off to bring the barge in alignment. That's it Slow, shorten up, stern lines loosen and stop when Slow decides."

"Stop all," called Slow "clear the sides; the clamps are coming in."

The rams extruded until their padded ends locked the hull into the centre of the dock.

"Clear all now," called Slow, "bringing the cutter up." The men moved around the stern of the hull and cycled through the hatch into the office. They removed their suits and stowed them. As McCock entered the control cabin, Slow activated the inner gate control.

"Stand clear, inner gate closing in ten seconds," came the AI's voice through the yard. The gate clamped shut and the indicator lights passed red to amber to green.

While the cutter was removing the crumpled bow, the servo's came on line, trimming the pre positioned plates to shape and then placing them in the appropriate slots in the frame work at the end of the dock.

"They should be ready about when that bow's off," remarked McCock. "I'll com the scrap yard about that bow."

He went back into the admin office passing the males of the Flock who were disposing of the contents of their coffee bulbs.

"Suit air dries me out," said Polack more for something to say than a complaint. Cowboy nodded in agreement. Some five minutes later, McCock returned wearing a thunderous expression. Denny raised his eyebrows at him.

"The scrap yard is not interested in collecting that scrap – too small – but they'll take it from us if we bring it over. That means we have to get a power barge; more expense and our account is getting a bit unhealthy." Polack shook his head,

"It's not that we don't need one though, the flivver is too small to act as a tug."

McCock considered,

"Denny you com around and see what you can get. Polack suit up again when that bow is nearly off and then get a robo-server to move it inside the loading dock. Cowboy, get some rest. You're on first watch. Suit? I'm on second. Denny after you get the power barge, work out a roster for us, me included to cover the control cabin while that barge is in there. Put a duty officer available to handle other matters, answer coms, see to customers, accept deliveries, that sort of thing; then relieve Slow. She can stand down until tomorrow because she did the set up on the computers and she worked nine hours straight on that. I'm going to get some rest time now. Try not to disturb me too much." McCock followed Cowboy into the cabins.



-------

Chapter 20



The machinery cut, placed, and bonded the new bow plates into position following the instructions from the design chip. Human intervention was only needed if wear or vibration moved the tools.

Fully automated systems were not as effective for repairs of vessels because of the individual nature of each repair. The automation went so far but the skilled touch was provided by the humans. This was not a task for an assembly worker. Subtle changes and sounds had to be detected before things go out of control and skewed. A delicate touch occasionally with constant supervision produced high quality work – and so it was to be at GmBH.

The power barge was delivered next day, registered and inspected by the Harbour Master; MFH was experienced in their support and ensured proper procedures were completed. They charged well for their services but by preventing problems it was cheaper in the long term.

On the second day after the dock had started cutting, McCock had loaded the mangled bow into the power barge now named the "Horrible" – an ugly little beast -cycled the loading hatch and with Harbour Control clearance headed for the scrap yard. He contacted their office and was directed to his dumping area. He had to swing around a small freighter of a type unknown to him with a forward section looking as if it had been kicked by some giant. He dumped his load as directed. His curiosity about the stricken trader was stimulated for a reason he couldn't quite raise to the surface of his brain.

With the scrap yard's clearance, he put the power barge around the hapless vessel as it lay secure to the outer dock of the scrap yard. He noted the name "Hebrides Trader" on her side. The after end appeared untouched and the after hull unbuckled. The forward section was crushed back to about the accommodation – it gaped open empty of its contents. The nodes from the after impeller were missing and the after hatches were not fully sealed. McCock returned to his office and commed the scrap yard. An idea was forcing up to his conscious state

"The "Hebrides Trader"? My curiosity has got the better of me. She's a peculiar design and I don't mean that bow. Tell me about her."

"We don't want her as she is too big for us and the breakers say that bow makes it too expensive even as a gift to them. Don't understand it myself. Our firm is happy; we are getting demurrage for her. There is talk about sending her into the star to get rid of her. She did a regular passenger air car mover cargo run from the Junction, Scapa, Orkneys, Hebrides and here – three month round trip. Basically was an inter system air car ferry. She seemed to pay her way though as it was rare she left here with any space left in her holds. She was a special build because those after holds could be used for livestock out to the farms. Never carried carcasses back unless in the freezer 'tainers; about fifty passengers and about the same crew. She's been looted a bit. The nodes went missing one week and about a year ago the Harbour Master told us the 'tainer carts have been pulled out. What's your interest if more than curiosity?"

"None really. But livestock? I thought they used frozen embryo or whatever these days?"

"Seems there was problem with the breeder mothers - they tell me you can't reliably breed for them and so they get selected once they can be assessed at about a year old. A fertilized embryo or what ever is implanted in a lot of them at a time and they are shipped out – usually Scapa but sometimes Hebrides. We never got 'em here. They were stowed in the tween decks in the after holds pressurized and under gravity. Cost a bit for a live stock run."

"Never did a live cargo run myself. Thanks."

"Only too glad to help a potential return customer. We'll take the bow off her if you take the rest. Teeth, we would even cut the thing away for you. Clear?"

"Clear." McCock broke the connection.

The barge owner had left a message – the air lock was arriving the next day and would be cleared in about three days. Where did GmBH want it delivered. Faxed the reply - the front delivery lock and please advise timing. He checked with Polack on the repair process and saw a strange EVA suit sitting in the control seat for the molecular seamer. The cutter has been pushed back to its frame on the bulk head. He raised an eyebrow at Polack,

"Slow; our suits just got in. Silas sent us our personal EVAs, she couldn't wait to get suited up again. She has a 'letch' for EVA, something peculiar about our girl. Actually doing a really worthwhile job. The last edge of the seam needs tight clearance and that seamer is crappy – it's got a harmonic in it. Slow says she and Denny can time it out. We've finished until the air lock arrives."

"Coming in to tell you – about three days time. That's some time to go over the general specs of the project. Meeting tomorrow afternoon, suit?"

"Slow and I are good for it; Denny and Cowboy are watching the new's vid. I'll let them know."

The Cockerel and his Flock gathered in the 'rec' room. Slow and Denny were still chewing on the last of the leftovers. McCock surveyed his personnel,

"Everyone on top of the general requirements? General points before we get into detail. Slow?"

"Denny and I will need a clean room for our testing gear. The spaces here aren't suitable. We'll have to build one."

"Cowboy?"

"Security means privacy and we don't have that unless we bulkhead off and that will make the public curious. There is a limit to hiding in plain sight. Weapons really attract attention."

"Denny?"

"Aggy, what's our cover? I mean for working on a HAC. As Cowboy says weapons draw flies. Any intense work on Navy type vessels does the same. We've also got to mingle with people to be credible let alone for our own relaxing."

McCock asked generally,

"How about we keep the suite at "The Green Man"? That gives us a home dirtside where we can relax; that suit?" brought nods. McCock pointed at Polack,

"How come a low level team like us are given the job? No, the responsibility of designing a new weapon system for the Navy? Satan's canines, we are just a bunch of junior NCOs with no experience. I should be doing watches in a DD's engine room or in a BB's boat boy maintaining its pinnaces and cutters."

McCock looked embarrassed and seemed to collect his thoughts before speaking,

"Polack, your point first. We are all idiot savants. Quieten down, I'm not insulting us; I think. We have all got scores on the very top end of all assessments and know our own speciality inside out. But we had few other skills or interests. Now I think that last has changed, certainly I've seen the change in you lot since we got to Gorgipest and the changes were happening while we were at the Admin Wing. We have certainly become more aware of each other's specialities to the point where any of us can give the specialist a good argument. Our social skills were, ... ugh, let's admit it, deplorable when we first met. We're a lot better now within our group and those shipboard professional contacts, - and the marina, - have improved us tremendously. Silas and I talked about sending all of you to the Academy..." The Flock squawked noisily.

"That's enough! Good! If you people had had the breaks I had, you'd have waltzed into Sandhurst College and came out with honours. But you didn't have the sponsors and you didn't have the social class. It's getting better, but the Navy is still based around social class; AND the bloody Navy is hidebound. It allows itself to be locked in by its traditions. Every one in their place; bigger and bigger ships; the blighters are wedded to BBs and I can hear the slobbering now when the Dreadnoughts come into service. The traditions won't let the Navy start working up a little ship weapon. Diana is only getting away with her harebrained idea because she is talking about a gigantic energy weapon destroying the other fellows' BBs. We of course will be too clever to allow it to happen to us ... Our brains are not scrambled, our thinking processes aren't blocked by tradition. We are young, untrained, inexperienced, able to think off the bulkhead. We are too junior to be noticed, but if we present a weapon system in full dress the Navy has to look at it even if the stuffed shirts are going to block it; the Navy as a whole will know of it and perhaps the horse will sing.

Polack, I saw you looking through that yachting catalogue?"



-------

Chapter 21



McCock went on,

"When I read it, there was a major competition for racing yachts, multicrew, space capable, not hypercapable, to be held off Griffen in three T-years. We will establish our reputation by winning, I hope, that prize. It will explain why there are parts of the yard closed off; it will give cover for when we are working on it; the yard's machinery will be available for us when needed; our mock ups won't look out of place and we can space test the yachts in plain sight. EW can still be inbuilt but out of sight in the hull. Tac Nav Com can be out in the open, but there will be no inside looks – what it does, not what does it. Weapons will have to be computer modeled, sorry Cowboy." Cowboy looked inwardly for a moment,

"That's not going to be that much of a problem now I ponder more. The hull, the power plant, the places to emplace the weapon – if you've got them for real then I can computer model anyway. There's not going to be new weapon systems are there?"

McCock reassured him,

"There might be new but they wont be unproven systems. My idea of binding one of those new nests into a pinnace wouldn't work?"

Cowboy laughingly answered,

"Not really, apart from inertia and momentum making manoeuvring a bit sticky, something this small, 1,000 tons? Won't have the surplus power for that targeting computer or the size to put it in – not unless you are going to make an unmanned drone and that will limit the range of the boat."

"Oh, frabous joy" raved Polack, "the design specs call for six hundred gravities. All that power. That beautiful big power plant with overpowered impellers. Joy. Joy."

McCock laughed,

"Don't get carried away. It's got to fit in one thousand tons AND THAT IS A MAXIMUM! Silas put the lower limit at six hundred but I think he is a bit optimistic. To get this done in the time, the systems have to be available now! The latest AND THE BEST! Start thinking about it. I'll take hull and I'm thinking of the Spaceyacht "Aurora" so get their specs and think "Aurora". I'll have to put it through the design pattern but I think that's the shape to work on. This thing has to be the fastest around."

Denny raised an eyebrow and cocked his head on one side,

"Where are we going to put our secure or secret or whatever work shop? This is going to need a lot of cubage and I can't see it in GmBH yard without being too visible to our customers. It needs to be somewhere where they shouldn't be going anyway. Is there another yard nearby preferably next door?"

Polack put a point,

"Better still a fleet underway repair ship but that would really draw the flies and we'd be expected to undertake salvage. We aren't trained for salvage; we can recover and tow but not salvage."

Denny rejoined.

"A mobile dock?"

Cowboy answered that one,

"They cost and there's very few available. A lighter, the hold would be big enough and we could moor it on the channel side and use the flivver airlock."

"Nah, I've got just the thing." Slow triumphantly smirked, "the wreck of the "Hebrides Trader". I had open channel on my suit the other day and I heard Aggy going on about it. Being as inquisitive as him, I took it further. Got MFH onto it, looked up the shipping register and got the Lloyd's assessors' report. What's a "Lloyds" anyway? Fact, we can get it for the demurrage, scrap yard will remove the bow for us and will seal that bulkhead – that's if we make the deal. The passenger, crew, and power areas are intact – and I mean intact, there's still the crockery for the Captain's table. Harbour master assures me that there is no damage in those holds and he thinks the hatches are functional. There wasn't any security on them and the looters just left them. The passenger, crew, engine room, bunkers were all encryption secured – Captain's card – would have needed cutters and that would have been seen.

Planned it last night on the 'puter. Aggy you say "go" and in two days, from that after bulkhead of the No 2 hold aft, is ready to tow to our own flivver lock; the Harbour Master wants it gone from there and he'll do us the favour of his barges' towing it around. Temporary lock to lock passage and in three days – three days, please note, I've got my own suite and fresher. I looked at the plans; I want Suite 2, its on the outer side – the bow or whatever will be level with our main air lock, No 1 lets call that with the delivery lock No2, the customer lock No 3 and the flivver No 4. I'll send a memo around later. I also want a picture window looking across the channel to the Navy Yards."

Her enthusiasm was running away and McCock laughingly pulled her back.

"Calm down, Slow. That's your cabin sorted out but work areas – what about them?"

Slow came back to them,

"Polack, there is gravity available in those holds, - I don't know, couldn't find out if the power plant is still up to it. The report indicated environment was up and normal power throughout the aft areas was intact. Main engine is up but no comment on the auxiliaries. But if main is up then there is a lot of power even in stand by mode – I commed Galbraiths – they do the yard work for salvage – they had had a look at the "Trader" and had given the opinion that rebuilding the bows, the cost of the forward impellor, the forward nodes etc, just wasn't economic – could get a new build for that. I sweet talked Toby Galbraith to come over yesterday, late, and put the idea to him. He got back to me just after mid watch. They're got the plans for an air lock from our channel side bulkhead to the No 3 lower hold hatch, enough to get a multi-kilo tonne barge in. The "Trader's" report says there is a hatch between No 3 and No4 – can't have numerals, - "A" hold and "B" hold, large enough to pass five k-tonnes and sliding panels from both holds into respective tween decks. We have access from accommodation area across "A" hold and tween – these hatches can be secured and anyway are only accessible from the crew's quarters which are not easy to get to except from the bridge. Denny, we have got a sort of clean room in the Radio Shack and that is secured. We could even use "A" lower as an extension of the yard."

The men just looked at her with varying expressions.

"Hey, get off. I'm feyed out living in that cubby hole."

"Have you decided what colour scheme you want?" asked McCock.



-------

Chapter 22



The men wisely decided to agree with Slow, and, to get a bit back, also decided to let Slow organize. McCock had checked with MFH for funding and was told that the residue in the capital building fund would cover it and there was enough to fully equip another yard in "A" lower plus some change. McCock had to wonder just how much Sir Laurence and Silas had turned loose. The men also didn't want to get between Slow and her personal fresher.

Slow spent the next day on the com.

The barge's air lock arrived via power barge. The No 2 air lock was evacuated into the yard with popping ears. The power barge unloaded into the air lock using the lock's robot crane arm. The atmosphere was cycled back into the resealed air lock. McCock and Denny, in their skin suits, used a robo-lifter to transfer the barge's air lock to the dock assembly holder. There was a slight panic deciding which side was forward and which was aft. After a frantic search through the plans by Polack who was in the control cabin readying the molecular seamer, the lock was set in the assembly and then moved into its position. Slow had got a good finish on the bow plates and the fit was within tolerances. Cowboy was dragging the power leads for the portable seamer; "Clear all" and when acknowledged, he tacked the parts. The three men then rechecked the alignments and asked Polack to bring up the large seamer. The machine moved ponderously into place and aligned itself. McCork sighed, as they checked the alignment,

"You know, the newer models have laser fine adjustment."

Polack, in the cabin laughed.

"Makes things too easy; "eyes!""

When each of the men acknowledged their filters were in place, he activated the seamer. McCock asked,

"Who's watch?"

Cowboy said over his shoulder,

"Yours here, Polack in the cabin, Slow relieves you and I relieve Polack."

Denny protested,

"Let not interfere with Slow, I'll cover. Let her get on with our new accommodation. There are four suites on her agenda. Aggy you'll just have to take the Captain's Cabin."

"Thank you boys and girls," McCock replied as he settled at the seamer's local controls.

The foundry brought the No1 gates. No one had notified GmBH of their pending arrival. The next two watches were somewhat frantic. Denny and Cowboy told the other two to double shift while they checked the gates' movement through full range and then seal integrity. Polack developed cross eyes as he watched the seamer's digital readouts and the No 1 air lock's pressures in responses to Cowboy's calls. When all clear in the No1 air lock with pressure in and outer gates giving no concern, Cowboy and Denny with McCock's permission stayed skin suited and retained safety lines. The coffer dam was breached initially and then disassembled. The bonding was left in situ as a small ridge around the inside perimeter of the outer gates. An appropriate burner would have to be obtained. 'Another item we didn't think about, thought McCock. 'We'll have to use that goo sometime in the future to make a seal somewhere sometime.'

The coffer dam pieces were lashed into one bundle, brought into the dockyard and stored on the racks above the No2 inner hatch.

Looking quite pleased with herself, Slow propelled herself into the cabin and relieved Polack.

"No 1 gates intact?" she queried.

"Doesn't look as if anything's to siren about."

The Flock changed watches as the seamer completed its task. Denny whose watch it was at the seamer connected external power to the barge's air lock and cycled the mechanism as McCock in the cabin moved the seamer back to the bulkhead next to the cutter.

Denny cycled the barge's air lock closed and disconnected the external power. He pushed himself up to the cabin and got the sensor and sender unit with the spanner Slow had thoughtfully put out for him. Denny smiled at McCock

"You'll have to give that employee a bonus Aggy – she is always two steps ahead of us."

Slow yelled from her sleeping cubby,

"I heard that. I'm not an employee. I'm a slave; well a single shareholder anyway. It says so in the Articles."

"Secure that cover or get into a skin suit," yelled back McCock as Denny dived down to the dock, "the yard is about to be evacuated to check the positive pressure in the barge. Just being careful."

Denny inserted the sensor sender in its access bolt hole, carefully placed the sealing nut in a suit side pocket, sealed the sensor and activated the sender. McCock signalled receipt of signal on the viewer screen. Denny returned to the cabin, secured the spanner and walked out again to check visually the office air lock hatches both to the yard and to the front office, the No 3 hatch he reminded himself ruefully. Back in the cabin he gave McCock a thumbs up.

The warning siren could just be heard in the cabin but the slow flash of the dock lighting made jagged spectral shadows through the polarized safety glass.

"No atmosphere in the dock or in No2 and 3 air locks," reported McCock, "now we wait for 24hrs. Got anything good on your viewer? I think a good read for the rest of the shift will relax me. I'll let the barge owner know the status tomorrow forenoon watch. Get some rest!"



-------

Chapter 23



McCock utilized the time between his cabin watches and sleep time in accessing the Naval dockyard library on the black computer. The Head Librarian would have been horrified to learn that anyone could access the memory of the Library. The security and counter intelligence at the yard would have had a collective coronary if they had known that an outsider could get in and just how deep the penetration was. The Library had access to most but not all of the secrets of the Weapons' Development Bureau. The limitation did not trouble McCock as he had told Cowboy, the systems had to be proven or at least off the drawing board before they would be used in the HAC.

Cowboy poked his head into the "Secure Room" which in the context of the GmBH at that time existed only because of the difficulty an outsider had of getting physical access.

"Watcha, Aggy."

McCock waved him to the second chair. As Cowboy settled in McCock explained,

"I'm running some ideas about our hull through the Architect files in the Yard Library and I stumbled across this experimental courier design – nothing came of it. I do this and this look what we've got" as he manipulated the programme's functions.

"Still looks military if we are for a racing yacht," observed Cowboy.

"There's always a market for a military surplus; no, not at the very top of the racing yacht market but looking beyond that market, and remember we are developing a craft for a space race."

Polack joined them and scissored his legs around the rail,

"Thought I heard noises. Whats that? Looks sexy."

Slow edged in alongside Polack.

"What's this, male bonding class? No warship looks 'sexy'. That certainly doesn't, it just looks brutal."

McCock brought them up to scratch. They looked at the scrolling display as the specifications of the original design flashed and then changed to suit the changed shape.

"There's a light freighter power plant available which can be tweaked that might fit," suggested Polack as he reached across McCock to make an entry. The drawings and details of the plant flashed up, "see if it fits."

McCock went back to the original screen and dragged the news information across. The computer digested the news meal and then spat out the warning in flashing red letters across the bottom of the screen,

AT FULL POWER OF ENGINE, IMPELLERS BEYOND TOLERANCE

Polack was unconcerned, "Ask it to assess current service impellers for compatibility, doesn't like that at all."

Polack reconsidered his problem as he gazed abstractedly at the 'puter screen. Slow offered,

"Why not try for known impellers which could be fitted with only minor, ho ho, hull changes that will not alter the acceleration we want?"

The 'puter was not pleased with that.

HULL STRENGTH OF THIS DESIGN UNDER TOLERANCE FOR 600 GRAVITIES.

Cowboy stirred himself,

"Those two warnings give brain workouts. I'd not wanted to do this pre disapora with no 'puters."

McCock regarded Polack,

"Bye the bye, I can't give you your gravity, nor atmosphere."

Polack groaned and the others raised eyebrows as he continued,

"Consider it. The barge works within atmospheres – well sort of – and also gravity. It was constructed with molecular seaming which gives a stronger join in atmosphere. It also isn't as exposed in the harbour to space radiation – the planetary electromagnetic field offers some protection. For even a racing space yacht the hull has to handle accumulated radiation. Praise Deity we don't have to work with hyperspace and sails. That means particle bonding and that only joins in vacuum and gravity even in a dock can affect the quality of the bond."

"Besides the argument" smirked Cowboy at Polack, "warships are fabricated in space. Aggy, racing yachts are crewed in skin suits – the double skin is too expensive and that saving goes into bottles, impellers and compensators." He answered his own question, "but we could go for a racing design to compete but have a very fast space yacht for the super rich who are turned on by velocity to impress their friends but don't want to go hyperspace. 'Way, what I was going to mention before we got off onto hulls, your nest missile idea lit my light; large ship, say BC up, counter missile missiles. Their acceleration is enough to run over most things a HAC would meet; that hull you've got there would work if enough spare power for management of firing data, ignition and some for inflight corrections. Size of the project says the requirement is for single shot tubes and no magazine;" he paused refectively, "I want light weapons multiple firing capacity to deal with the smaller targets. Anything needing missiles is either destroyed or we are vacating the AO at speed."

McCock nodded and looked up at Polack,

"We can't have shops at different atmospheres or gravities, safety reasons alone. Slow, does the "Trader" have shielding of the work compartments to circumscribe the gravity effects if we get gravity in the accommodation and crew areas? Thinking on what she was I suspect there is."

Slow admitted,

"Sorry Aggy, I didn't think of the need to have our hold, dock, and workshop in virtual space. That drops another problem, all the systems inside the ship are at atmosphere. Polack's and Cowboy's major parts can survive in either, they are sealed but 'puters and com sets can't take vacuum. Even when a ship's opened up during overhaul the bridge is locked off. Thinking on it, our clean room in the crew accommodation will work and to fit it into a hull we could pressure up "B" lower and make it compatible with the accommodation. The time without gravity doesn't matter as the kit can handle that. Cowboy, those racing yachts are crewed skinnied but the 'puter com shack is atmosphered."

Denny had make the Flock complete again as he mutttered to Aggy's ear,

"24 hours done, test logged, barge let open to vacuum and then I removed the sensor, placed and lock tied the plug as per the plan. They don't trust the seal even with the sealant. With the lock wire, the plug can be visually inspected for integrity of the seal without having to torque test it ever time; it's an old world technique which has never really been lost. I don't think you'd see it other than in engines." He looked at the screen with its flashing message,

"What's that about?"

"That was the result..." McCock quickly summarized. Denny flicked back to the earlier screens, and mused

"I have been drafting memos in my mind for our project's specification's library. What I have found is a metal which can be used in hull construction. One of my journals mentioned that Naval hulls do not like atmosphere and why in smaller ships there is a double hull. The big boys have so much armour that by the time the effects of atmosphere are significant, the hull has been sitting as a park ornament somewhere for a few centuries. Seems that some very bright people have taken the inner hull material of the Navy and used it as a base for some composite material, it keeps the weight down and retains radiation proofing. The punch line is that weight for weight it is projectile proof, well for land warfare weapons. Its being used now by the army in their assault shuttles." Looking innocently at the bulkhead over his head he went on,

"There're made in space and can be molecular seamed which handles atmosphere better. I know where they are constructed and by devious means, I found a class mate of mine who left the Navy and works for them..."

Cowboy interrupted

"What's a classmate doing as a ground pounder?"

Denny continued,

"Shuttles have to hide too and our army likes to confuse the other side. He says the material handles open space. There are stacks of the stuff in racks and their bean counters have satisfied top management that it doesn't deteriorate over time. The Army acceleratedly tested it with every known radiation; don't forget those shuttles are space vehicles at times. My punch line is that it particle bonds. He has sent over the specs and I'll put them in the Memo."

"I'll ask Silas for the Army test results," finished McCock.

In the forenoon watch, by prior arrangement the barge was towed away. The repair details were sent over to MFH who were acting as GmBH accountants as well as insurance agents.



-------

Chapter 24



The "Hebrides Trader" was pushed into position and Galbraith's team swarmed over her securing her to the dock. A temporary bridge was placed from the flivver lock, No 4, to the "Trader's" starboard side passenger access. Leaving a disgusted Cowboy to man the coms in the dock, the Flock exited No 4 lock in skin suits and joined a pleased Toby Galbraith just inside the opened passenger access. Slow made the introductions.

"I commed Slow before we began the tow. She told me of your plans so I took my engineer down to the engine room. When we got underway we checked the bunker and put our portable auxillary power on the boards. "Grease" looked like a 'puma eyeing off a mobile meal when the boards lit up. He jumped all over the room like a demented tree climber and had me running about checking things. Everything was in the green; we both agreed so he fired the engines up. They are slowly firing up and he has volunteered to monitor until a full power test. He has already done the stand by and cruise settings. He's enjoying himself."

He smiled at the disgusted Polack. Polack grated,

"I'll go and give him a hand, shall I?"

Everybody nodded agreement and a couple of chuckles came over the suit coms. Toby's comments,

"Pity gravity isn't up. He could have impressively stalked off" raised louder chortles.

"I'll remember this," came Polack's voice.

McCock commiserated,

"Its not often that an engineer fires up a plant from shut down and I know I felt quite satisfied when I did it." Slow cocked her head at him. "We took a freighter out of mothballs my second last year at A and M and the parents put me in the crew – summer vac- out to Scapa to bring her back to the Junction and the Chief baby sat me while I fired up main engines. It went into my log as "In command under supervision"; I got the ticket as assistant engineer for that. Have to do another four. Come to think of it, that might be why Polack is feyed off; he'd have had to have a chief supervising."

Denny made a discourteous sound,

"That wouldn't have stopped him. He was doing a lot of reading and I'll wager that what it was."

"Too late anyway now", remarked Toby. "I'll bring the crew over tomorrow just after first light and get onto joining the No3 hatch to your dock. You might want to take a holiday for a few days. We have a pre-fab tunnel we'll put in. It's got the iris gates at each end. Suit?" They shook hands and Denny and McCock returned to the No4 hatch; Slow went off with Toby to inspect the No2 suite.

When the Flock re assembled in the Rec Room during 2nd day, the subject was the possible vacation. Polack and Slow volunteered to cover the time frame and would com the others when the work was completed.

McCock expressed his surprise,

"You are volunteering?"

Cowboy and Denny laughed. Cowboy explained their mirth,

"Teeth, Polack wants to play with his engines- his own personal engine room; Slow wants to decorate her suite and finangle Galbraith to put in her picture window, probably put some hooks into him too, come to think of how she look at him."

"You lot are really off limits so what's a girl to do?"

No one bothered to handle that one and a general discussion followed.

The Flock agreed that the accommodation of the "Trader" was to be their homes with all the access to outsiders that meant. The crew accommodation was to be completely sealed off to outsiders. Access to "A" hold was through the crew's quarters but was under no circumstances to be used by outsiders. Access to the office from the yard and 'front' office was by invitation of a member of the Flock and only on dock business. That meant that the security on No 4 hatch was to be by scanner. Access to tween decks forbidden to outsiders; A hold business only by invitation and B hold totally off limits and access only from B tween across the tweens from the crew' quarters. Next morning, Toby commed McCock for a meeting. McCock let him in through No 4 as he was already through the crew's quarter from "A" hold where his crew had already inserted the hatch which was alongside the Yard He took his seat in the Cabin where McCock had steered him. After they made themselves comfortable with Toby doffing his soft helmet, Toby started,

"I used our "Salvage" card to get through the hatch from No 3 Hold into the crew quarters. All the door/hatch locks on merchantmen can be opened by a Salvage card. They are registered with Lloyds and there is a savage penalty if it is lost or misused. It opens hatches, everything. Can't be used on buildings though – different system. Here is the Captain's Card from the "Hebrides Trader" which does everything on the "Trader" but can't override a Salvage card. The passenger access tunnel is expansible so we are going to pull the ship off a bit then cut the large holes in the inboard hatch and your dock. We'll particle bond the hatch down and disconnect the motors and alarms on it - you can use them as internal cranes if you get gravity in there. We'll then put our tunnel in place, bring the ship back in and then particle bond, trim and final seal the edges; a laborious mucking about. We'll then permanently place the personnel entrance gangway. Should take about three days. Suit?"

"Fine by me," responded McCock. Toby then went on,

"Dad asks if you want two small jobs. He knows you're just starting and you've given us a bit of business – we're got two barges needing hull repairs and we've kept putting it off because it's not always convenient; we've a patch and recover company not a yard. So things get put off. It's hull work. He was talking to Charley Ferguson last might and Charley sang your praises. Dad says the old bastard had his two boys really go over that barge – can't really blame him, it's an 'atmosphere'. Can you do it?"

McCock didn't hesitate,

"Done;" and shook Toby's hand, "can you bring them over while the rest of us are away? Polack and Slow can dock them inside or in the lock if they both won't fit."

"I'll call Dad now and they'll be here by 1st day. My Chief wants to come over and look over the engines. He set them back at low cruise when he left last night with instructions to Polack, who apparently slept down there; he'll bring the logs over with him."

"Wondered where Polack got to last night – thought he was in his cubby."

Toby went back to the "Trader" and McCock commed Polack to inform him of the plans. He found Slow in the Rec Room. She looked at him,

"My watch while Polack plays with his toys; I'll have my turn later. You get off and give my best to Erin."



-------

Chapter 25



"The Green Man" was reverberating with sound as Denny, Cowboy and McCock came down to the ground floor. It was emanating from the bar. The men had arrived late the previous evening; there had been numerous interruptions to their departure not least the arrival of the Galbraith barges and the need to coffer dam the inside of the yard wall to stop the spray of molten debris from the cutters outside working on the new locks. There would still be drops of slag solidified on unimportant surfaces to remove in their, oh so, abundant spare time. The barges couldn't be brought inside the dock until after the coffer dam was in place and by then the Flock were just on the edge of dog tiredness. McCock had made the decision to rest Polack and Slow before leaving. After that two were rested, the three going on leave called a shuttle to take them dirtside as they didn't trust themselves to take their flivver. They had grabbed some food and then into their suite. They hadn't stirred for twenty hours.

Walking into the bar was to be met by a wall of sound - music, clinking glass, voices. Cowboy nodded towards the food tables. A remembered voice behind them came,

"Hello sailor, buy a girl a drink?" accompanied by an outrageous giggle, "I've wanted to use that line for years". McCock turned and as he expected, there was Erin smiling cheerfully at him.

"You seem to be not needing one," nodding at her depleted glass.

"Well I've been waiting for hours for you to get out of bed. You were supposed to be up bright and early this morning and here it is nearly full night."

"How did you know when we were getting in?"

Erin took his arm leading him to the food and smiled archly at him,

"I have my spies."

"I certainly hope not" rejoined McCock.

They got their food and seeing Cowboy and Denny happily occupied in a group of laughing people, sought a quiet corner as friends(lovers?) do. They brought each other up to date with the recent events.

"Oh, perhaps I'll be able to spend a night or two in a spare cabin in private" Erin commented as the details of the "Trader" were passed. McCock let that one pass though to the catcher.

They danced intermittently, mingled with others, lightly looked from time to time upon the alcohol in the bottom of their glasses and then quietly went up to the suite. They enjoyed their company as only young persons attracted to each other can. Denny and Cowboy, not having any commitments gave them room. Erin had arranged her time off in consultation with Slow. So she said her goodbyes to McCock in the suite and departed with a promise from him to be in touch.

The men quietly collected their toiletries and stowed their gear in the drawers and closets or gave to Mine Host for cleaning, and walked to the shuttle ramp. They donned their skin suits and moved into the shuttle for the return trip to the orbiting space yards.

They selected a com freq and chatted during the trip. The need for a vehicle larger that the flivver but a bit more showy than the power barge which was not suborbital anyway was brought up. McCock flipped Polack and Slow into the conversation but no firm decision was made. Obtaining a space yacht and joining the local club was discussed. Somewhat tongue in cheek, Cowboy suggested it could be got as a legitimate budget item as advertising. This was met with strangled mirth from the yard occupants who refused to tell what was so funny. The travellers were told they'd just have to wait and see.

The shuttle let them off at No3 hatch and waited until the men were through the hatch before powering off. They cycled through to the Cabin where they found Slow supervising the cutter which was moving over a barge secured in the dock.

Slow explained that the Chief and Toby had cheated a bit and used their crew who would have been standing idle to assist Slow and Polack to bring the barges inside and rig the first in the dock. Barge 412 was in the dock and the rigs were already repairing it as per its log that Chief had brought over. Barge 413 was in A lower awaiting repairs and Polack was down there now giving it the once over. Slow and Polack had made the executive decision to keep atmosphere in the office in consultation with Toby and with Chief's comments accepted. The tunnel between hatch No4 and the "Trader's" passengers' access was upgraded to a permanent fixture retaining the security of the hatches. The Chief had also explained that even after providing atmosphere and gravity for the "Trader's" living areas and engine room plus atmosphere for the office, the excess standby power should be connected to the yard using the ship's external power connections. The Chief had greatly enjoyed himself, 'Haven't done this in years', working on the "Trader's" power boards and it would only require throwing a breaker in the engine room to put power out of the external power plug. Chief had advised putting another power board inside the yard so the yard could be isolated without having to get to the engine room. Using Toby's contacts, Slow had made enquiries. The Chief had signed off the radiation releases for the ships engines.

"Busy beetles weren't you?" remarked McCock. Slow told them with a mischievous giggle to get to their quarters. She handed McCock the Captain's Card. Cowboy was in Suite 1, Denny in 3, Polack was in 4 and McCock was in the Captain's Cabin. At present none of the hatches were security activated. Polack when located would show them around. She commed him and he would meet them in the Passenger Reception Area. She shooed them out muttering about women and work.

They trooped to No 4 hatch and cycled through.

"If we keep atmosphere in the office, do we need to close this hatch?" queried Denny. They grasped the bar and pulled themselves across to the ship just as its hatch cycled. Polack, standing to one side of the hatch at the salute, blowing on a bosun's whistle, whipped the whistle down to his side and called,

"Captain arriving!"

"Very funny," McCock, in a Pavlovian reflex, returned the salute, "where did you get that thing?"

"Some distant relative of mine used it on Sol – been in the family for centuries; this is probably the first time it's really been used for centuries. Legend says it was used on a wet Navy vessel, a heavy cruiser the "Belfast". Anyway, enjoy your break? Come on I'll show you your quarters. Slow and I brought your gear over and left it on your beds for you to sort out. You can't call them bunks anymore." He led them off to an intersection of passageways and companion ways.

"Down to multiple bunk passenger cabins. Forward there is the passenger and officers dining room. That is the passenger's kitchen and there is a small canteen where snacks could be bought. I'd suggest we use that as our kitchen. We've just come past the Purser's Office. Down this corridor to the suites through the door ahead. That door to the side is up a deck to Officer County, Radio Shack, and the Bridge – the radio shack looks intact and Slow thinks it's not too shabby. Through here, we've taken the security off, here are your suites gentlemen. Slow is still trying to finagle her picture window. Keep going? Right. Continue on and into Crew accommodation. This vestibule here is a meeting area of officer country up, crew aft as well as down, hoi polloi pax, and, above crew, a lovely great gymnasium, Aggy you'll drool. The lifeboat bay is between officer country and the gym – can we park the flivver there? It's empty now. Through here; down the corridor this was the seniors' cabins and crewmen below. Sorry, that left way we passed, to the Engine room, sealed up and tested. You've got that card, Aggy? Give it a swipe. Skin suits sealed? Into the hatch, seals good, opening. Remember no gravity out there."

The four men stood in the opened hatch and gazed down into the hold. Ahead was Barge 413, spatially secured. Lighting was dim but the outline could be easily discerned. Above them stretched the tween deck with its centrally located hatch. In the port after 'upper' corner was a container box, small compared to the barge, but human size was sizeable.

"What is that?" McCock demanded, "I don't know why but looking at those marking's I think I'm going to regret asking."

They heard Slow's chortles over the com,

"Told you."

"Told him what?" McCock glared at Polack as much as a skinsuit would allow its occupant to glare.

"Oh that? That's my racing yacht," declared Polack.



-------

Chapter 26



The flock had gathered in the Rec Room. They had doffed their skin suits and were hooked about the table except for Slow who was still in the Cabin but on the intercom. McCock took a deep suck on his bulb,

"Now, tell me about the yacht," to Polack and to Slow's gurgling chortle "and you stay out of this M'lady."

"I've got to talk to you about 413 first, Aggy, its important." McCock considered momentarily.

"Go, but I still want the story on that yacht."

"The work on 413 is a lifted cleat. Don't know why but I did a Doppler probe – probably for the practice, I got an anomaly that I couldn't put down to that bollard. Took me half a day to locate it but the middle third of that deck is stress fractured. Once I got a cut it was easy. The apex of the stress area is where they bolt a power windlass and it spreads out and away from that bollard. Enough tension on that winch and that deck would lift. With the bollard and that, it needs a metal survey and that's out of our capacity. We could do a quick and dirty and put the molecular seamer on it but I worry about the condition of the rest of the hull. If it's crystallized, 413's a write off and Galbraith won't like that. I won't sign it off even repairing that fracture line without a survey. That's my recommendation, and if Galbraith won't do it and I don't really know their rep, we should go to the Harbour Master."

"Satan's canines, you do find them don't you?" muttered McCock.

"I'm sure they'll go with it," offered Slow, "they have a good rep in the port and we've seen their work over the past days. Toby seems an alright guy."

"We'll play it by the book! The yacht?" rejoined McCock

"You remember a couple of weeks ago I was all into that yachting catalogue? Well, I've been subscribing to it for years and just before we were sent here I had decided to order a kit and build one. I've been fascinated by them since we started at the Marina at Settlement. I hadn't really spent my pay on anything much and it just mounted up; you wouldn't let us go shares on that expense, so..."

"How did you get it into A?"

"Oh!" laughed Polack as he realized McCock was more curious than angry, "from the top? You remember we had to moor the barges outside. Toby and his boys, uh, Slow tell you about the power? Yeah well, Toby and the gang were inside the tunnel tidying up intending to go out No2 and their work barge was being pulled around to the front. It was only going to be a minor hassle to get their gear over those barges into theirs but as they had a wait on their hands, what the heck, they pulled 413 into A, just to test the systems you understand and pulled 412 into the dock and clamped her just for the practice. Their barge was alongside loading when the transport lot turned up with the yacht 'tainer. It was too big for No2 so Toby and company ran it through the main dock into A and secured it. They wouldn't take my thanks, said they enjoyed themselves; and now I throw 413 in their faces. Teeth!"

"Who's next watch? Denny? Relieve Slow. Polack that report on 413. I'll com Toby and tell him the news. The rest of you shift that 'tainer into B lower and let's have a look at that yacht. I'm just as fascinated as you lot. Give me your invoices Polack I've got a twisted idea in my brain."

Events proved the Gilbraiths deserved their good reputation. Old man Gilbraith got a surveyor organized and flitted over. He examined Polack's report and saw the chalk marks on the deck. More out of curiosity he dopplered it and shook his head resignedly.

"That's only holding by the paint."

The marine surveyor arrived, did the penetration tests and drilled out several sample cores of skin. He used his portable scanner and gave his opinion that the metal had 'gone crystal'; he wanted to get it properly examined on the lab but ... He said it would only take overnight for the lab to examine the samples and they'd get a verbal report by forenoon. The surveyor was departing with his samples when Galbraith called him back to survey 412. The seamer was just moored back to the bulkhead with the warning lights illuminating the dock; when it was secure the surveyor moved in to work.

Galbraith wanted to give Polack a pat on the back so the rest of the menagerie who had come with the old man and the idle surveyor's assistants trooped off to B lower accompanied by McCock and Denny.

The visit turned into a circus. There were oohs and aahs as the exposed parts were pored over as each new section was removed from the 'tainer. It had gone dark outside by the time the visitors had had their fill; even the surveyor who was quite satisfied, subject to lab confirmation, with 412, had joined the throng and had enthused more that the rest – he was a member of the Sporting Space Yacht Club.

Galbraith and the Flock inspected and tested 412's repairs and expressed themselves satisfied. Arrangements were made for the departure of the barges – in the forenoon watch, thank you, we do need a bit of sleep. The Flock waved their visitors off, secured the outer hatches, said "Teeth", set the answer com, grabbed food from the Rec Room and headed for their beds.

As they separated into their suites Slow expressed the opinion that Polack would have wet dreams about the yacht's power plant.



-------

Chapter 27



The black computers and every scrap of information about the project were removed initially to the Purser's secure room on the "Trader" and Denny rigged an alarm in addition to the security in the Yard Office. In response to an FTL com to Silas, two men had arrived from Naval security. They had arrived at night entering by the boat bay which was secured behind them. For the next couple of days they roamed the "Trader" living areas and engine room. They altered the programmes on the semi public doors to photo-code entry and to the non public doors to retinal scan and code. The A hold hatch was made semi public and from there into B non public. Tween deck access was only from the passages from officer country with retina scan and code into the passages. The tween – main hatches could only be manually operated from the tween hold. After dark they went into the Yard, office and the Nos 1, 2, and 3 hatches. External activation of boat bay was by transponder code but boat bay into the accomodation area was retinal scan and code. The officer of the watch's bunk and the control area was set up in the Purser's anteroom. Hidden in a secure closet was a small armoury and a weapon safe was located in each suite and Captain's cabin for personal weapons which came with the men. The yard and the "Trader" were electronically swept and a scanner was left in the armoury for routine sweeps by Denny and Slow. Slow was disgusted at having to sign for a personal weapon again,

"I'm a clean hands sailor. I manoeuvre them in and someone else does the killing."

Denny agreed.

Cowboy and Polack on the other hand wanted to put in a pistol range. McCock stopped that idea but had his own,

"An hour a day for each of us in the gym. We get fit and we start sparring." The Flock was ambivalent about that one.

McCock had grabbed Polack much to his expressed disgust to work on the Architect's programme and between them established that courier, modified to take the increased power of a freighter main engines, as the basic design. They had looked at the inventory and called up an assault shuttle's generators for auxiliaries for the project. The material for the whole ship was to be Armoralloy to keep it simple with the one material. Word had come back from Silas that Renmark's impellors and inertial compensators were 'good'.

Cowboy had put in his bid for main armament for which the hull had to be slightly reshaped and strengthened. It was decided to use the harness runs already existing for the new PD pods.

Denny and Slow were satisfied with the plan's provisions for EW and Tac Nav Com – well not really but accepted the restrictions of available space; they were soothed by the fact that the courier plan had already made the compromises for them.

The programme was required to make the list of materials required for the vessel's construction. The parts list was drawn up for the 'early frozen' design; this design had to be built and the processes assessed whether suitable for mass production. Then space tests had to prove the effectiveness of that design. The Flock were quietly relaxed at the future need of changes to the design before it was finally frozen. The courier's harness and cable runs had been built in as construction of the hull progressed. Most warships were constructed this way but the Flock were wary of this method because of their wide ranging exposure to warships' repairs made impossible because access could not be obtained to what, as a result of a breakdown, became a vital area. They had begun regarding the end product from the user's side. Being a smaller ship, they thought they could get away with this rather than have to fight the bean counters over any additional predicted construction expense.

Priorities were allocated for the ordering and the paper work dispatched.

"Now," smiled McCock at Polack after an exhausting week sweating with the 'puter, "we can relax and get some experience with hand jigging on that yacht."

"Hey, that's my toy" groused Polack.

"Not anymore, my lad. Your bank account has just been replenished by GmBH. Under the deck, the Crown has nationalized your vessel for training purposes of the detachment."

McCock looked smug as he and Polack made their way to B lower to play with the new toy. It did freshen up their ideas, reinforcing their training experiences.

McCock wouldn't have been quite so smug had he been aware of two events which would happen in Settlement in the next month.



-------

Chapter 28



The first event was Sir Laurence's exclamation of horror as he digested the paragraph which the DNI had just personally brought to his attention. She sat watching his reaction as she enjoyed Sir Laurence's hospitality, the renowned taste of his coffee blend. There had been a noticeable rise in the already high standard of the brew and the word had quickly passed around the Admiralty drawing an increase of high ranking visitors – all on official business but it didn't really require face to face – could have been handled by the Aides. The coffee was the gift of the Grenoble Defence Force Military Secretary officially - practically it was the thanks of a grateful extended family.

The thought of enjoying a cup of the renowned brew had entered DNI's mind but the decision had really been made for her when her Chief of Counter Intelligence had personally brought his report to her.

The same report was on Sir Laurence's viewer.

"This has been close held hasn't it? I never heard as much as a whisper of it."

"Nor I, and my understanding of it is that not even the Palace knows."

"She's in line for the throne and the Palace doesn't know?" Sir Laurence rather incredulously asked.

"You'll need to read the attachments, its all in there. Their claim to the throne comes through her mother, Caitlin Winsor"

"A quick summary will do, " Sir Laurence gave her the 'come on' wave.

DNI collected her thoughts and began,

"The Nancarrows breed young – appears that their 'nannys' reject the contraception until triggered by a conception and then it kicks in hard. Can be reversed I'm told but difficult. The old investigations suggest their line is not aware of it. There is a very strong female breeding line and they don't spontaneously miscarry."

Sir Laurence interrupted,

"You seen to have got a lot of genetic information in those few sentences."

"The scientists were intrigued and got carried away a bit. The Nancarrows are Negroid stock and several centuries pre Diaspora were slaves to Anglo's. Appears they were bred for beauty and the line developed as courtesans. Nancarrow's mother appeared as a migrant from Sol with Nancy Alma as a babe in arms, had moderate wealth with her. Nancy Alma met Anton Hawkins, Viscount Peakeries at MU, she was a senior and he a freshman. The relationship, mainly because of that disparity, attracted the eye of PGS even though at time he wasn't part of the Royals – that came much later, when he married Caitlin Winsor. Potential senior member of the House of Lords – the family has always been political and so on. Just before she graduated, with double firsts, I might add, intelligent and beautiful – Hawkins couldn't resist it was said love at first sight, his sight, she broke off the relationship and dropped right off the screen except for PGS who had a good case of the worries apparently by this time. She never approached the Hawkins. PGS got a blood sample of the daughter. She had gone to ground with the grandmother on a Griffen farm. Nancy had hidden her home address from MU and PGS had a slight panic over that lack of detail. They located her just before the birth, got all the slavery details as Grandmother had joined the local geneology association. After the birth, Nancy returned quietly to Settlement, got employment in F.O.; all the investigation actually did have a positive side to it; got her clearances unusually quickly and now is high up on the Renmark desk. Daughter Anna was raised on the farm, comes to the Uni and reads for a bachelors in agronomy. Meets Mick McGraw, a second generation red head of Celtic Sol stock, marries, and they go off to Griffen to work the farm which they inherit. The McGraw daughter, Sally, gets bundled off to Boarding School here in Settlement under Nancy's wing, starts MU but leaves and marries a scion of Indo-chin merchant family who disapprove and cut him off with the proverbial penny. Dan Lee is just establishing himself as a broker when he is killed in an air car incident – fully investigated, nothing suspicious, Sally is early pregnant, returns to Nancy. Nancy adopts Erin, Sally joins the Navy. The Lee family have had a bad time of it as far as heirs are concerned and Erin is an heiress unbeknownst to her. Nancy showed them the door and got an injunction. Erin was about two, doubt if Sally knows about it. Nancy apparently made it quite clear about the consequences if they tried any contact whatsoever. Erin's potential won't put her in the class of the McCocks but not to be sneezed at. His family know of her as a girl friend, don't know of the inheritance side but aren't concerned about a fortune hunter. There have been some whisper of discreet family enquiries but they won't hear about this report. Erin has told her friends that she is after McCock and has been for over a decade. CI haven't been able to ferret that one out yet. Seems the girl has managed to build up her personal espionage net to keep track of his movements and we don't think they met by accident. But she checks out – rather spectacularly I think. Thanks for the coffee, Laurence; that file is for you. Your problem now", she gurgled as she let herself out.

"Why can't the boy live a quiet life?" thought Sir Laurence as he placed the file with the others and locked the access.

His tranquillity was to be further disturbed involving the whole Flock in a couple of weeks' time.



-------

Chapter 29



Back at GmGH, the Flock relearnt their fabrication skills as they hand jigged, used the portable seamer, ran control cables, connected power cables to the impellers without the main engine fitted, looked at catalogues and selected nav com equipment and argued about the best yacht racing 'puter.

The main engine was finally fitted and the serious work of testing was begun. The electronics arrived and Denny and Slow had their 'drooling' time. Using the yard's resources, the racing yacht quickly took shape. Yard entry limits were relaxed as McCock thought a stream of kibitzers would spread the word about the yard and lead in to the story of design of bigger things to come which would for commercial reasons limit the access to the yard, particularly the holds.

There was a steady stream of repair and minor fabrication work passing through GmBH, distracting the Flock from their main purpose in life, namely building racing space yachts.

McCock kept a firm control over the rest periods and the Flock in turn managed his. Mostly they spent the off duty time at "The Green Man" where McCock was invariably joined by Erin Nancarrow.

On several occasions, GmBH held a party, by invitation only, in the "Trader's" passengers' dining room. They arranged caterers who used the dining room kitchens – the Flock had been using the Canteen's. Being distrustful of their fellows in general, the Flock secured the crockery, cutlery and decorations in the Purser's office. (The items never were returned and it was many decades later, that the Flock retrieved them for their sentimental value.) A band was hired and McCock sealed off all areas other than the Portside Passenger Access hatch, detailed No5, which came past the Canteen to turn left to the dining cum dance floor. A temporary bulkhead was put in place to physically prevent access to the lower passenger deck. The access to officer country and bridge and to the first class suites was already secured. Just before the caterers and band arrived No 4 hatch was sealed. The access from first class to the vestibule was completely disabled. McCock suspected one or two of the suites might have an additional occupant or two and didn't want anyone taking a wrong turning.

Denny was the duty officer and kept a sober eye on things until the last guest departed; the band and caterers had by then been lone gone, it being almost fore noon watch. Slow's friend was over on his routine visit from Settlement – that was probably why these dates had been selected. Erin came as McCock's guest and explored the wonders of a Captain's Cabin

The second party was held to celebrate the completion of the yacht. In the meantime, the Armoralloy was stored in A tween and the internal equipment was stored in B tween. The projects main engine was stored in a rented warehouse and the impellers and inertial compensators were held in B hold covered by the pieces from the yacht kit. The black computers were re located to the Petty Officers mess in the crew accommodations on the same deck as the suites.

Polack drew the duty for the second party at which the vids of the kit in construction were shown with 'cheese' stills of the Flock during the construction. The finished yacht was still in B hold and because there was no gravity for safety and insurance reasons public access had to be denied.

After recovering from the second party, the Flock moved the yacht on to the dock which was empty at the time and quickly ran the vessel through its static runs. It took two days to complete. The maiden voyage was undertaken in the late forenoon watch and several runs at low speed were made up and back to the junkyard. The yacht was put into the "Trader's" boat bay. Denny, Polack and McCock performed another detailed inspection. Slow and Denny were docking a power barge whose owner needed it repaired quickly. The damage had occurred in a collision and there was apprehension that the power plant mountings had been damaged. McCock and Polack moved into the hull as it was being secured to the dock and they closely inspected the mounts and passed the main mounts but discovered an auxiliary plant hanging by its spindle. These mounts were smashed; the owner was not pleased to learn his barge would be out of service for a while longer. The power barge required the attention of all the Flock to get her out in three days. In their off duty time, they studied the recommended space testing of the yacht which has been named "Trader's Offspring".

McCock had been investigating procuring a second dock for A hold. GmBH had a stroke of good fortune. Toby Galbraith was a frequent visitor dropping in to visit friends. One of his competitors had a modern dock fabrication assembly. It was nearly new and had been under utilized; there had been a thought to expand into major repairs associated with salvaged vessels but it was found that unless the firm was large enough to be two businesses, two businesses couldn't be run from one; so the man had gone back to what he knew – salvage. After a year of sitting unused, the assembly was up for sale and it wasn't really a seller's market.

McCock obtained the details from Toby and asked MFH to look into it. By the time the auxiliary engine was fitted and tested, MFH reported, after having a surveyor conduct an inspection – they seemed to have appropriate experts always on call – that a price could be negotiated and where did GmBH want it? Yes it would fit fairly snugly in B hold. MFH had also found there was an older somewhat smaller assembly available at its book value. The grant would handle it but after that ... A hold would probably do for the smaller unit for yard work. The current run of repairs were minor in nature but numerous and having a second yard dock would help the through put of jobs. The Flock continued with the testing programme of the "Offspring", needing only minor modifications. They worked up a user manual and continued with planned near space flights.

The Flock flew the "Offspring" as a planned test across the channel to where the docks were being readied for towing. The Flock inspected the dock assemblies and the locals inspected the "Offspring". It was an advertisement, in a small way, for GmBH's proposed real work of designing racing space yachts – "this is a toy just to keep us interested while we got established in the yard and begin major design." McCock had his engineering degree; a major in power plants and a solid minor in Naval Architecture.

It was noted that the assemblies came with integrated cabins which could move over the assembler as required. With only minor adjustments the larger rig would build a ten thousand ton vessel to any specification. The particle bonder would have to be upgraded to handle Armoralloy and modification was locally commercially available. So why not have one as part of a growing yard's inventory?

McCock had to contemplate two on duty watches; one constantly in B hold on the 'racing yacht' and one 'as required' which was becoming nearly constant and probably would with increased work involving the A hold; the yard with A hold under remote surveillance could be supervised from the Cabin.

After discussion, the Flock passed the manning problem up the pay scales by FTL to Silas.

He passed it up to Sir Laurence. After some weeks delay the problem crashed down around a newly frocked Commodore's head.



-------

Chapter 30



The Chief Yeoman murmured into his comm.,

"Commodore Rowan is here, Sir," and getting a reply looked at Silas, "Sir Laurence is waiting for you in the small conference room Sir." and pointed across to the single door. Nodding his thanks, Silas entered the room. He viewed the combination of occupants unhappily, Sir Laurence AND 'Cruncher' Milligan. He became even unhappier when Sir Laurence spoke to him.

"Help yourself to a brew, Silas. We're waiting for Sir James to arrive; he was delayed at the First Lord's meeting; no, nothing to do with this matter. There are times, very few and quickly quashed I hasten to say, when I think I'd like a good war going somewhere so I could with justification pass matters like this off to an assistant. Its just that a peace time Navy seems riddled with egos and intrigue and politics."

The First Space Lord had arrived to hear the last observation.

"And do you really think a war would make any difference? All the study and reading of post war memoirs and histories makes me overjoyed we are at peace. I've long held the opinion that wars are fought on two fronts – one against your enemies and the second against your so called friends and colleagues.

"That's a bit cynical isn't it?" 'Cruncher' remonstrated. Sir James shrugged and got his coffee. As he settled he asked generally.

"What's this meeting about that it needs the First Space Lord?"

"The Cockerel and his Flock," said Sir Laurence, "'The Crypt', as they were once known during their sojourn at Weapons' Development Bureau."

He went on in response to quixical eyebrows of Sir James and 'Red'; Silas just slumped lower in his chair,

"Hezbediah Matthius Samuel McCock, Ensign, Grenoble Defense Force, seconded to Wep Dev;

Eric B. Denholt, PO2, RMN;

Liznargh A. Gort, PO2, RMN;

Sabajhi C. Indira, PO2, RMN;

Gregor A. Kowalski, PO2, RMN;

They are serving as a special research unit out of my office."

As the list was being detailed, 'Cruncher' Milligan's face was becoming a strange shade of red, deeper though than his hair,

"They were junior NCO's" he managed to splutter.

"Well, not McCock" pointed out Sir Laurence,

"The GDF" continued Milligan, "which hasn't existed for the past fifty years gets put in command of a section dealing with warship manning and assisted by four junior NCO's?"

Sir Laurence replied,

"That's all we had and we thought rightly that they would stay under the horizon of the traditionalists. This might explain McCock," he passed a chip to Milligan and another to Sir James who waved it away,

"If that's his paper to Raoul, I've read it!"

Milligan digested the summary as the others enjoyed their coffee.

"Thoreau still good?" enquired Sir James. Sir Laurence nodded.

Milligan passed the chip back,

"Let me tell my story. Four junior NCO's; my staff is going to crap. Appears Colin Bonder, he's got "Naseby", he and his Tac officer Bert Filister, were in the gallery for the second day of that competition and watched my little lot get their heads handed to them. That trick where that big blond makes his squadron disappear really interested Bert. He got Colin's permission, made enquiries and invited Mr. E. B. Denholt to accompany "Naseby" on a trial run; she had completed repairs first; and please bring that little black box with him plus explanation...

Denholt boards just before cast off and stands quietly at the rear of the bridge out of the way. When they are clear of the outer ring Bonder hands over to the Exec and listens as Denholt and Bert discuss that exercise. Bert says he really wants to know how to make his ship disappear and then he'll worry about the Squadron. Colin seconds that...

"We did cheat a bit", Mr Denholt admits "The scenario is a bit artificial in that there is only the one simulator. So I joined our box into" – Colin did rattle off the set number but I've forgotten it - it's the EW master - "If I may I'll hook it up." Colin quibbled about security and Mr Denholt produced a clearance signed by Diana herself saying anything in the Naval Service. Bonder was satisfied and said Denholt had the covers off, power cycle out – EW wasn't activated for this run – his little black box in situ and a test with a meter in about two minutes...

Denholt did seem to know what he was doing. He asked Bert if 'near approach' had "Naseby". They did. Denbolt asked permission to fire up the set and make an adjustment or so. Granted. Small front panel removed, meter connected, screw driver adjustment of frequency made. Denholt asked permission to bring EW on line, granted, activated the warning signal, waited for the reports from the Bosun, no one on EVA and the radio shack anchored its disks, and then tripped the switch. Colin said he always knew what the fastest unit of time was but Approach halved it, "Naseby Naseby please acknowledge stat, over." His coms said "Naseby" was still there and what was the problem. Appears "Naseby" had disappeared off their screens. Denholt pointed out that "Naseby" screens were still operating and asked if Approach would report when "Naseby" reappeared as they were trialling some equipment. After about a minute at cruise power, he switched EW back to standby and Approach confirmed reappearance. Colin and Bert got the ship's experts up into the Captain's cubby and the very technical discussion went over Colin's head, he's tac nav stream. Bert explained after Denholt had gone ashore – without his black box - I'm told it was left in situ. When the black box is tuned from the panel it goes into a mode where, when being actively swept, the shields tune to the probing signal and absorbs them. It has been tested up to five probe freqs at a time. However when the shields are so tuned, if an opposing operator is on passive and the operator is aware of the likelihood and can work his equipment, the ship can be picked up a little more easily at much shorter range as the passive operator will see a hole, but the passive operator has to know what he is doing and his set must be in first class condition. Denholt said Wep Dev had put it to the manufacturers but they squealed 'patent infringements' and are trying to come up with their own but they are really primitive and presently can only manage one frequency. To return to normal shields just to go back to set tuning. Bert got the meter readings and "you can leave that set there and show this Electrician's Mate where to connect ammeter which he is going to mount on the panel" thank you Mr Denholt...

Colin made it a point to tell me about it as it's apparently right off the bulkhead. The ship's greasers and sparkies have been over the set up and are satisfied there are no added potential failures. Where did the thing come from anyway?"

Sir James looked at Silas who appeared to be sliding under the table.

"McCock, Denholt and Gort, ah well, knocked it up in their spare time. We tried to get the manufacturers interested but it wasn't theirs sooo..."

Nods of acknowledgement from the other three.

"Still can't understand how that group were given the job; they should have been going out to get the rations and emptying waste baskets," complained Milligan.

Sir James nodded agreement. Silas Rowan sat up,

"Diana set it up personally. Ha! That surprises you doesn't it and specifically, specifically, selected McCock. I got the juniors straight out of tech schools, based on their overall testing. Diana got Sir Laurence to close hold their files."

Sir Laurence nodded for Milligan to continue,

"That Electronic's Mate had a month's compassionate leave. Wasn't long considering he had to go home - on Gorgipest."

Rowan visibly winced wishing a whirling dervish would come and take Milligan away. Not a chance.

"Straight off leave and confronts Filister who passes it up to Bonder who bounces it over to me. Denholt is on Gorgipest working in an orbital repair yard, prancing around in a kit built racing space yacht. He is working with a woman and three men, one of whom has an accent. Says there's a lot of money being spread around. The group has a permanent dirtside suite in a good dockside hotel, "The Green Man". Know it myself, not interplanetary, but a good place for a spacer to lay his head. Got half a salvaged ship joined to the yard and just moved in two new fabrication assemblies. What the hell is going on Laurence? Last I hear that Ensign is a rooster around Wep Dev and now he is out of the Navy in civvy street and it seems his brilliant team are with him."

Sir Laurence help up a chip towards Sir James who nodded and the chip went to Milligan who started to read it. He looked at Sir James enquired,

"Forceful?" and when Sir James nodded, went on "Saw her coming over in my barge. She's not a pretty ship anymore." He finished the summary.

"May the servants of the Deity preserve him and protect us."

No one at the table objected.

"Diana was not pleased I take it?"

Silas did the honours,

"She went into orbit, wanted him heel hauled, thrown to the sharks, hung from the main mast. Fortunately, took a few days to get him. She had come down a bit so just out of the Wep Dev and out of the Navy. She couldn't get him discharged but his career was in tatters in RMN even if he is officially Grenoble."

"Deity, what a waste. How far did he get on manning or is that secret?"

"Not at your level, certainly," smiled Rowan "they had started on destroyers and after a couple of years presented a report stating a twenty percent reduction in crew accompanied with recommendations of necessary equipment for automation and courses for schools. They moved into cruisers light and medium, they were going to do CA and BC together. Before the air truck dumped on them they had nearly completed that; I got the interim report on equipment schools etc. They had done a tremendous effort dirtside as well as ship board – manufacture, scientists, teachers. Seems there is an exponential economy in size with their work. The reports were put to design and architecture. They were orgasming all over the place. You won't see if for years yet but the estimate is DN will have half the crew."

Milligan expostulated indignantly,

"And you let them go? You should have stood Diana up tall over this James. These kids are too good to lose."

The other three looked embarrassedly at the others and appearing quite unsure of themselves.

"Tell me", demanded Milligan.



-------

Chapter 31



Sir James nodded at Rowan,

"Yours I think?" The Commodore gathered his thoughts and appeared more confident as he moved into the story.

"It was actually Aggy who lit the idea in my brain. Oh sorry, that's his nickname form his Academy days when he came over from RM Agriculture and Military. It was the night he fronted Diana, I had been detailed to be in the Wing to process him out – direct from Diana. He was looking a bit haggard – just a bit, he had been on "Pendragon" all day; she'd broken down and the Captain later told me Aggy has been instrumental in jury–rigging her so she got in under her own power. Escorted off her, barged in, left waiting for hour and a half in Diana's office, a ten minute reaming of a new one and over to me, I was having a mild piece of him when he went 'Caps in the corner'."

Sir James interrupted, "Explain that."

Rowan explained the Grenoble tradition.

"That would be ideal for full and frank discussion between officers but the junior would have to be certain of the ethics of his superior, aarrrgh, that I even think that let alone say it" and waved Rowan to continue.

"Aggy wanted that paper out in the open but wanted to give me plausible deniability. He was almost scathing of Diana, but, in almost a dismissive assessment, there would be significant loss of graser mounting vessels then made the comment "mobile energy mounts" swarming a big vessel and then ironically suggesting strapping a nest onto a cutter."

"Not that one again; gaming armed cutters in fleet exercises is always a disaster for the cutters." Milligan indignantly put in.

Rowan went on,

"Yes, but, we never swarmed with laser or graser armed cutters. He even suggested mounting a large number in a 'merchie'.".

Milligan and Sir James who also had not been given that point specifically, looked thoughtful as they considered the tactic.

Rowan went on,

"Scale down the targets and consider it again. Also let's go back to our Sandhurst College days. Remember we all studied that classic wet navy battle where the major elements never saw each other. The battle was decided by parasite vessels carrying projectiles to a fighting area. Remember the vids of those airborne parasites loaded down with externally mounted projectiles hurtling down a ship mounted runway. They dropped off the front end and I for one always held my breath until they reappeared. The multiplier benefit was enormous. Consider also the effect of VTOL parasites, one mounted on a smaller vessel. The exponential increase on the volume controlled. Carrying coms will allow the weapons carried by the major elements to reach farther still under command via the parasite. The ability of parasites to even destroy larger elements...

I think we need to look at the weapon system in the light of what I've indicated. To work on it, the things needed a new mind set and here I have that new mind who even in uncontrolled thought processes had actually brought the project into the open...

I came to Sir Laurence and he agreed to keep it under his personal hand...

This is so secret there is no paper on it. It is just in my mind with the knowledge of Sir James and Sir Laurence, DNI knows what's going down but not the rationale behind it...

This brings me to a point Aggy has passed up the chain. He wants additional workers who will not be in the research loop but can be trusted to work in the yard."

Rowan produced a holo projector and demonstrated GmBH's now extended yards. He then progressed onto the preliminary reports. He covered the hull design, hull material, power plant and ancillaries and proposed weaponry. This latter had been thoroughly discussed by four very senior naval officers and agreed that an energy mount was not feasible with that power plant even though it fully occupied the projected engine room. The compensator had to be shoe horned in. Endurance wasn't causing enthusiasms but as Rowan pointed out, as space vessels, they were not independent but tied to a mother ship. This compromise had been early established by the Flock. The Flock had suggested work would have to be done elsewhere in hangaring / mounting the HAC; they further suggested an investigation of the method used by merchies with their 'tainers. A summary paper on the "'Traders'" design was submitted.

Rowan continued,

"They have a good basis there but to continue their cover from both friends and foes, the outside work coming in needs to be continued without taking any of the Flock off fabricating the vessel; they will as 'owners' have to supervise and manage."

"Just how good are their fabrication skills? We are talking about a new craft from the spine out?" grumbled Milligan.

"A lot of the work the Flock has done, has, in the normal course of things, had to be surveyed. The reports are enthusiastic in their assessments. I knew they were good but it appears they have the ability to fine tune automated machinery to convert excellent to superb. They all have that touch so I'm happy about the fabrication and they need to concentrate on that but the cover needs to continue."

'Cruncher' Milligan raised a hand, and mused aloud,

"Here's a thought, yes." To himself "it'll work just fine." He looked across at Sir Laurence,

"I've got an Avers Chief ERA on my flagship who has done fifty eight years and is going to retire. I've even had him on the Admiral's Bridge trying to get him to change his mind but he says its time for him to retire. The word from lower decks is that he thinks he is blocking a family junior getting into the Services."

As Sir Laurence noted,

"There must be several Avers on every ship in the fleet."

His listeners reflected on the slow promotion in a service fortunate not to be at war but having to be ready to fight one. It was the tradition of families like the Avers which kept the fleet in as good fighting trim as what few ships there were could be kept. (The late King's building expansion was only just becoming available.) There had been Avers in the first fleet crews. The family claimed unbroken service back to days of sail on old Sol. They never aspired to commissions but did to the highest standard of their trades and branches. They were a tight knit group of families which was surprising considering the polyglot of racial characteristics they exhibited. That, too, was a family tradition, the men (nowadays the women – who got their partners to change their names on formalisation and the children to carry the name; strong willed lot the Avers) married foreign women often and, on retiring, happily returned to ancestral farms. Well, they became ancestral. There were family groups on Mountserrat and Gorgipest; the latter was ancestral to the extent of two centuries. They were not genetically flawless and did have some disciplinary histories; an insult to any race brought a rapid Aver response, usually physical and brutal. Rowan queried "Gorgipest?" and on confirmation "he'll do nicely".

"This is where you need me?" Sir James asked his fellow Space Lord. Sir Laurence nodded and Sir James turned to Milligan,

"There was a lot of detail in that, that wasn't needful for me to bother about, that's what Rowan is for. But you were going to create a storm, no!, don't try to deny it, Laurence and I know you and you appear to have the opinion that the Navy is being short changed and you will create waves even tsunamis to correct that situation. I am here to sit upon you, sit heavily upon you. Rowan is right off the wall with his ideas but I think they need to be considered and by a chain of uncontrolled events he has a team to do the preliminary work. Setting it up as he has, gives the Service deniability. Deity, I hate politics even if I'm up to my neck in the stuff – both in Parliament and also importantly inside the Service, the Andrew - Halliday discussions are enough thank you, and being callous about it, we can afford to chop the Flock, if things went that bad.

You however, Rod, I'm dropping right in it. You don't know it yet, it's in the circuit, but you are moving to 'Plans'. You will be kept up to date on the progress on Project Crawler. There is not much that you will do but as that vessel works up you will turn your mind to operations using its capabilities. You will do this in your mind only. When it's decided to proceed with it and that, despite Rowan's enthusiasm, ain't definite, there will be no delay." He stood,

"Thank you gentlemen, for an interesting hour. Your orders will be dispatched shortly, Rod, congratulations on your promotion. Commodore. Enjoyed the coffee, Laurence."



-------

Chapter 32



And so it came to pass.

Several weeks later, a com was passed to McCock at "The Green Man" as he arrived on a break from GmBH. The Flock had been working extremely long hours. They were beginning to suffer the effects and tempers were becoming thinned and responses sometimes were abrupt.

McCock was on the verge of ceasing all work except just for emergency repairs in the main dock to keep business open. There had been a steady stream of repairs to hulls and more recently repairs and maintenance of power plants were requested. The capabilities of the "Offspring" were noticed and the response was more work. There was also that problem now in the No1 airlock that McCock had, for the time, put firmly in the too hard memory bank. McCock made the contact and heard the female voice,

"Avers' Brook Farm, Sir, my name is Lane, can I help you?" McCock was a bit taken aback by the almost service like response,

"A Mr Hugh Avers wished to speak to me; McCock, GmBH"

"Hold please," a minute passed and a voice rumbled out the ear piece,

"Mr McCock, a friend of yours told me to see you about employment, Silas Rowan."

McCock quickly shook himself a bit more aware,

"Look you, I'm not up to conducting interviews now. Can I stand you lunch at "The Green Man" tomorrow?"

"Mr Rowan thought you might need some sleep. That's suits. Noon tomorrow "Green Man"", and the chuckling voice ceased. McCock looked at his com as if he expected it to give him answers. Polack nudged him to move,

"What was that about?"

"A Hugh Avers wants a job."

"Avers?" McCock missed the look of awe, surprise and shock that came over Polack's face; he wanted to get in some serious down time. Unbeknownst to him, Slow had headed Erin off until the next day.

"Yeah, he's coming over for lunch tomorrow for interview."

"Can I sit in?"

"You're part owner," shrugged McCock as he turned into his room and then collapsed onto the bed.

Polack cursed under his breath; removed McCock's shoes, then his own and collapsed himself.

The pounding on the door at mid forenoon brought Polack's eyes open to find himself staring into those of McCock's who asked slurrily,

"And what is my excuse that I find myself in bed with you?"

Polack saw the humour, and protested in a falsetto,

"But we are on top of the bed and we're fully clothed and nothing happened."

"You can explain that to Erin – that's her knock, I'd know it anywhere – if you want to. I'm heading for the fresher" and suited action to words.

Polack and McCock joined Erin in the lounge area, which became the dining room at meal times. They felt a member of the species after their ablutions. Just at the end of the forenoon watch, a middle aged solid grey haired man walked into the door way, looked and found them, walked across and rumbled,

"McCock?" McCock nodded and shook the proffered hand the size of a dinner plate; the voice continued,

"Hugh Avers, retired Chief Warrant, ERA, last "Napier", Milligan's flag".

"Erin Nancarrow, my girlfriend and Polack Kowalski one of the GmBH partners," introduced McCock.

"Marched off "Napier", two weeks ago; waiting to embark on the shuttle to the fast 'Pest ferry. Mr Rowan joins me and says he knows where there is a position which could use a retired Chief Warrant ERA. GmBH. New workers, family owned new yard, repairs and maintenance. Aim is to design and build racing space yachts. Could do with shuttle in shuttle out employees who had no curiosity and sealed mouths."

Beneath that rumble, 'and if I believe that I've got a lot of forged titles I've bought'.

McCock digested the information and read volumes between the lines. Polack couldn't contain his curiosity,

"Mister Rowan?"

"My watch keeper, Ensign then JG on "Vincent". His first posting. Not a bad lad, thought he might do well."

"How did he know about you?" "Milligan. Those pair are still thick as two thieves. Don't ask, don't tell." McCock gave the traditional 'wave on',

"Mr Avers, what is Silas's scheme?" Hugh Avers looked at McCock and after considering, nodded,

"Mr Rowan suggested I recruit, no, not recruit, we are civilians now, obtain the services of some of the younger retired member of our family who might have their interest renewed in getting their hands dirty. The farms are 'make work' really, satisfying, but not really enjoyable for retired spacers. He suggested I offer a four man crew, quarters in the office, to work the working week, shuttle out to the farm end of last day and shuttle back first day. Apart from access to A hold we stay off "Hebrides Trader". He showed me a holo. I don't want more and can't see need for more. Access cards to No 1, 2 and3 hatches, office and A hold."

Polack said

"You got a good briefing?"

Avers nodded,

"Said Mr Rowan was not a bad one," and added pointedly "I got all I need."

"Lunch," announced McCock, and led the party to the board.

"Good as ever," commented Avers and in reply to a look from Erin,

"Mine Host and I go back a long way. I actually stayed here before I first shipped out. He wasn't here then. Here when I returned."

As they ate their meal McCock wondered aloud.

"What are we paying for your families' services?"

"Put well," smiled Avers "told to let MFH worry."

They returned their concentration to the food. After lunch the conversation turned to "Offspring" much to Erin's disgust. As he left, shaking hands around the table,

"As a perk, my lot will be interested in a few runs in her. We've all got skins and EVA's, we teach our juniors early." Hugh Avers briefly and took his leave.

"You have been looking as if you have been drinking something I haven't seen" Erin said to Polack.

"Yes," agreed McCock "what's the story?"

Polack looked at them puzzled and then his face cleared,

"Aggy, you are a Grenoble and Erin's not service. You have been dining with a living legend..." and went on to tell the legends of the Avers – most of them were factual.

"That explains the EVA comment." remarked McCock.

Before Erin dragged McCock off (he did go willingly) for some intellectual education, she had a symphony concert in mind for the evening, he commed the "Trader" with the news of the Avers and their surprise didn't now surprise him. Denny's comment gave food for thought.

"You realize that the yard will have more work than it can handle, don't you? When the word about Avers gets about there will only be our yard doing anything. They're all legends and I don't think any of them have ever done ship work after retiring. Who got to them? What has made them change their lifestyle?"

Milligan had, pointed by the First and Second Space Lords with Rowan baiting the hook. The Avers did not know what the real project was but they responded to a blatant appeal to raw patriotism after being assured that the work they would do could provide a very sensitive but potentially helpful development to the service – one of those practical things that go down in a yard rather than in a laboratory.

The Avers understood that sort of task.



-------

Chapter 33



McCock left Erin still in bed as he pecked her on the cheek at oh dark hundred and then with Polack who looked disgustingly fit for this hour of the morning watch shambled out to the ramp for the trip to GmBH.

He let his mind wander as he sat in the shuttle.

Erin had established an agreement with "Mine Host" to be correct in their relationship; Erin was the serious girl friend and not some casual bed warmer; "Mine Host" tried to keep his judgements to himself, he did run a respectable establishment despite catering as it did to the orbital yards. They weren't on truly friendly terms and the disapproval was kept hidden – mostly.

McCock shied away from further thought about his relationship with Erin Nancarrow.

The project was beginning to take shape. The supply of Armoralloy would probably do, tell Denny that with appreciation, not a 'well done' as the Flock had become partners rather than officer and NCO's.

With a start McCock realized how socialized he had become, he was losing the Naval ethos which had been part of him for most of his adulthood and of his boarding school existence. He turned away from that path of his future; and yes, that yacht.

At midweek, Denny, as duty person had been precipitously awakened by an alarm. In a daze he focused on the flashing red light on the outline for the "Trader" on the alarm board. Denny had given the Flock a laugh when he regaled them with his consternation on seeing the full outline of the vessel. The AI's repetitious announcement of "Port Side Passenger" broke into his consciousness and he had toggled to the hull view. He saw a suited figure hanging onto the grip by the No 5 hatch holding up the suit intercom lead. Denny had hit the response light and watched the figure make the connection. As he shifted position the hatch camera which had been obscured by the figure showed a very up market flivver standing off with several other figures looking toward the "Trader". A tired sounding male voice came over,

"I have a bit of trouble and wonder if you could help me?"

Denny had been abruptly woken from his sleep (he was becoming socialized too), and wasn't pleased about it.

"Perhaps, but I would like to know the trouble."

"I've burned out the engine in my speed yacht and I was hoping you would take her on?"

"Where is she?"

"Alongside your main hatch. We towed her in with the flivver and tethered her to your cleats then came looking for you."

"Why didn't you use the front office?"

"Is there one? We didn't see it, we saw the side hatches but there were no lights so we came around here and saw this hatch lit."

A very puzzled Denny looked over his board which didn't outline the office except with a bank of indicators and the wide viewing vid screens. He toggled the 'front' screen and there was the very expensive sporty vessel. He then realized there was no light sensor on the No 3 hatch. After the Flock had relocated out of the office, they'd forgotten to manually activate the out of hour's illumination of the front office hatch. The No5 hatch wasn't specifically illuminated but got some light from the sensor activated "Trader's" running light. Denny had thought 'more!?*+ work!'

"Sorry I was just tracking my board. Secure her and we'll get together in the morning and get the details."

There was a definite pause and perhaps a gulp,

"There is a bit of, well, er, ah, family..." Denny wasn't really obtuse but it was in the middle of the night,

"And?" just a tad unsympathetically. The apologetic voice came back hesitantly,

"Well it's like this. Me father doesn't like me racing and wouldn't spin for a hot yacht and I, er, sort of, went behind his back and used me Grandmama's trust fund. He doesn't know and he will be really really angry if he finds out. A lot of people know I've got her and if she's garaged there will be talk –no, no, not deliberate, just social conversation and the Pater is bound to hear of it. If you take her inside, sort of hide her. Out of sight and all that?"

'Another rich little worm with more money than sense gets into trouble and then expects everyone to extract him from the exreta' had passed through Denny's mind. However his conscience had maliciously reminded him of a certain power sled and his own father's reactions. So, the racer had been secured in the No 1 airlock until it could be inspected. Denny had brought the group into the front office where there had been a rush for the fresher. The details had been recorded and the young man was Tony Galbraith, a distant cousin of Toby. The father was Sir Joshua Galbraith. Had Denny known of this prior to accepting the racer he probably would have declined the work. Sir Joshua was a powerful man on Gorgipest with a not pleasant reputation and known to hold his grudges hard.

McCock's musing came to an end as the shuttle came alongside No3 hatch. They cycled through the hatch up to the office where they found the others busily cleaning the place. McCock asked why the apparent frantic activity. The trio, who were busily wielding handcloths, all turned to face him; even Polack looked at him strangely. As if it explained it. Slow informed him,

"The Avers are due just after the end of this morning watch."

"They are coming to work here," said McCock gently, "not to eat their meals off the decks." Slow didn't even argue with him,

"Here! Make your self useful, get rid of this and then clean out the cabin." 'This' was the contents of the office's waste basket. McCock did as directed rather than argue a futile point. The activity only ceased when the front office buzzer sounded. Eyes turned to the No 3 hatch view screen. It was 'them'. Slow nodded to Denny, who reached into the Cabin and pressed the outer No 3 hatch release. Cowboy propelled himself to the front office.



-------

Chapter 34



'Them' comprised four solid figures all about average height. Each man wore a well used skin suit with almost unreadable name tags over the right mid chest and towed a locker on which was strapped an EVA hard suit equally well used. Cowboy cycled them through the No3 air lock two at a time. He then led the new employees through the office, the rec room to the quarters; here each of the new group moved to a cubicle as if he had been assigned to it. The suits were unstrapped from the lockers and attached to the frames on the bulkheads just inside each cover. The lockers were pushed in to the cubicles and the covers closed. The four doffed their skins suit helmets, allowing them to dangle on their cords, nodded to Cowboy and moved into the office.

"Hugh Avers," introducing himself to Slow and Denny shaking their hands. He pointed to his companions in order,

"George, Paul, Theo," Hugh then seated himself opposite McCock as the others shook hands all round and then sat. Hugh nodded at the folder and equipment on the table between them.

"Passes?" Slow nodded and Hugh continued,

"Have you entered any details on them yet?" to which she shook her head.

"Have you detailed the clearances on them?" to which Slow nodded. Hugh gave her an approving nod and pulled the folder to himself. On opening it, he found four access cards and chips. He picked up the scanner, inserted a chip into one slot, removed a Naval POR chip from his sleeve tab pocket, inserted that into the other slot, ran the access card until the stop in its slot, put the scanner to his eyes and identified himself as "Hugh Victor Avers". The green lit between the chip slots and he passed the scanner to McCock who looked bemused

"You'll need to authenticate, sir" Hugh said gently. McCock, startled, took the scanner and inserted his Captain's Card into its slot and entered his code on the keyboard. The green commenced flashing until the cards and chips were removed. Hugh recovered his service chip and pressed the green light. He gazed at the numerical code on the screen, nodded to himself, then removed his access card, gave the record chip to Slow and passed the scanner to George. George repeated the procedure; as he started, the other Avers moved to the urn retrieving bulbs from their voluminous pockets and proceeded to fill up. Hugh finished first, tapped George on the shoulder, and then passed George's bulb to one of the others to fill and return to George. Hugh moved to the control cabin where he was joined by Theo who hadn't used the scanner yet and then by George who'd finished. When all four had finished the paper work and inspected the cabin the four reseated themselves.

"We're not familiar with civilian vessels and we need familiarisation with the control cabins, the assembly attachments and ancillaries. We have no knowledge at all of civilian paper work. You will still have to do the paperwork. We have read the brief Mr Rowan sent with me. Can we pack our shuttle in No2 air lock?"

McCock looked from each well lived in face to the next and saw the glint of humour,

"Welcome aboard", and with his wry shy smile went on "and if you have any problems please feel free to teach any of us."

Finishing their coffee, they stood, repocketing their bulbs, and pushed off to the tag boards where they swiped their cards.

Hugh said,

"Paul, watch; George, Theo move the shuttle, Denny, check me out on No2." Denny nodded and they both pulled their helmets over their heads and went to the office air lock. After it cycled, Cowboy said to the others,

"I wonder what sign language they use?"

After securing the shuttle, the party moved back to the main dock where Denny briefed them on the work in progress. From time to time Paul was asked to operate the controls to demonstrate the features of the dock and its assembly.

"Polack, let's inspect that racer," said McCock.

Notifying Paul of their intent, they redonned their helmets, swiped their cards in the office hatch, they had logged in on entry to No3. They floated across to the small hatch in No1 air lock and passed through. The racer looked out of place secured as it was; it looked as if it should be floating freely across black space. Polack used his multi tool to lift the locking levers and unseat the power plant hatch and, knocking against a securing line, he manoeuvred the hatch off.

"Do that again, Polack," asked McCock.

"What?"

"Hit that cover on the line." Polack wondered if McCock had had enough sleep the night before, but did as requested.

"Let me look at the hatch now," and taking the hatch from Polack, inspected it closely. He took the outer glove off his right hand, ran a thumb quickly along the edge and very quickly replaced his glove.

"I do not like doing that," he remarked as he felt his wiring circuits return the feeling back into his hand.

"Aggy, that was!@*+ stupid", remonstrated Polack staring aghast at his companion.

"This thing will have to be surveyed. That engine went way beyond red line and for a long time." He put his hand out for Polack's multitool, clambered over to top of the plant and said,

"Ah ha," levered off a side cover, pulled the suit's light into position and had a close look. He then reached in and probed about gazing blankly at a virtual horizon. He then turned to Polack and remarked in a carefully neutral voice,

"Some extremely foolish individual has by passed the overpower governor. I suspect that whole after part was about to become powder. It was a matter of fate, powdering of the hull or that plant letting go."

It is difficult for a person in a skin suit to become pale to an observer but Polack achieved it.

Back in the office at the mess table they were lunching and discussing the arrangements of watch keeping between the yard and the "Trader" – no one made reference to the work in B hold but it hung over the conversation as a constant factor. McCock told Denny of his finding, told him it was his problem to notify the owner but that racer wasn't leaving the yard without being surveyed unless the Flock were personally moving it to the breaker who would have to deal with that power plant before crushing the hull. Of course the Flock wanted the details and the Avers quietly listened.

"Tony Galbraith? Joshua's lad?" interspersed Hugh. On confirmation, the Avers looked at each other, nodded together, and Paul said,

"Leave that one to us," looked around his relatives again,

"Done by week's end," nodding to the Flock they then went about their tasks.

As the Flock made their way into the "Trader's" lounge to begin their discussions, Denny said wonderingly,

"How do they do it and what was all that about? What did we agree to?"

None of his friends could give an answer.

The Avers had taken over management. For time immemorial, good NCO's had run their units letting their officers think they were in command. Surely the Flock didn't believe things were going to be different at GmBH.

During afternoon watch, Tony Galbraith and his sister, 'Mina, presented at the front office to be met by Hugh and Paul. The party moved into the No1 lock and Hugh was on the com band explaining the situation. The band went silent. The Flock were assured when they immediately queried control, that the life signals were up and normal except that the pulse rates and breathing of the visitors were showing definite signs of stress. The com had gone private. It remained so for a while. Hugh's rumble came up,

"Visitors gone. On First Day access card for Antony Galbraith and 'Mina Galbraith. Work experience, unknown period."

The Flock were all in B control at that time and they just looked at each other, shrugged together, and continued their discussions of when to mount the power plant and should the harnesses be run with environment or after the plant was mounted.

At end day, the breaker's barge took the racer.

Avers departed in their shuttle.

Denny, Slow and Cowboy went dirtside to relax.

Polack went happily up to the boat bay to work on the "Offspring" and make dreamy machinery sounds as he sat in the bridge chair.

McCock read the logs of both the Yard and B hold, reviewed the progress to date, modified the plans for the next few weeks as necessary and began to stylus in a bit heavier markings over the plan of what was to happen in B hold.



-------

Chapter 35



McCock resolved the questions of precedence during construction as he usually did. He asked the Navy; it was just that Navy wasn't aware of the question. Using the black 'puter, McCock accessed the procedure manuals of the major Naval Shipyards. He would examine the manuals of mainly the smaller vessels, flivvers, launches, pinnaces, cutters, shuttles and rarely those of the space going vessels of the fleet. He would assess the procedures and selected the one which had the best fitted with the project. He invariably found that the Naval tried and true methods were just that – tried and true.

The fleet counter missile missiles, bench modified to be pure and primary attack weapons had been confirmed; in fact dummy missiles and their tubes would shortly be arriving. These were for B tween. The tubes were to be integrated into a nest which itself was to be integrated under slung in the hull. There were to be ten of them and from intermediate ranges the salvo would give even a cruiser a bad headache – and then the HAC had better show its legs – and stealth. Firing could be single or multiple shot.

The firing system was to be almost original with control on the bridge through the tactical computer which also performed the navigational calculations. The sets of equipment selected were those of serving cutters with the missile firing added on. McCock realized that the production model would almost certainly go to the fleet in a form significantly different to his prototype. He just had to build it, demonstrate it functioned and prove the concept sufficiently that a testing unit would be formed to fully assess the weapon.

McCock was very definite in his reports to Rowan that the HAC was a parasite weapon tied to a mother ship. (McCock's blunt opinion always brought a smile to Rowan's face.) McCock was kept abreast of work – in- progress in plans for a mother ship but things were not going to progress beyond that until the test unit was formed. Thought was being given to attaching the HAC externally to fleet vessels but it wasn't being enthusiastically followed at that time.

Even using the wiring harness of the original courier plan there had still been some difficult little problems particularly with the weapon mounts. Discussions between Cowboy and the rest of the Flock had got sharply pointed at times not quite reaching 'heated'. Three twin barrel laser mounts had been selected, capable of being anti shipping to anything smaller than a light cruiser and also as last ditch point defence. In the anti shipping role they were to be controlled as a single weapon from the bridge; in point defence they were to be under local independent control having a short range detection system and intrinsic firing control; here there was a link to main computer so that in the event of an overwhelming number of targets, the main computer prevented local control becoming confused and not firing. Slow and Denny were very pleased with that modification and Cowboy was fulsome in his praise. McCock had sent that modification up to Rowan to slip into the Wep Dev network. (Rowan reported back that the work was greatly appreciated and was being rapidly explored for fleet use as 'locking up' caused by multiple targets was an on-going problem for point defence.)

McCock set out his proposals, recognizing that Murphy had not yet had his say. Environmental and harnesses (which had been contracted by Wep Dev to a Settlement company using existing expertise) would be next. Cowboy was to put in the weapon platforms but to mount gun cameras using the local targeting and over ride system. Travelling around a harbour with gun mounts on a civilian vessel would attract a lot of undesirable attention. The obvious appearance of areas of hull suitable for weapon mounts were to be passed off as options available to Navy buffs to fit camera mounts and indulge in simulated single combat with like minded individuals. The obvious under slung area was to be passed off as somewhat luxurious passenger accommodation. The actual manning of the project required a cruising minimum of five: crew commander, weapons, Tac/Nav/Coms, EW, and power plant. Automation built in allowed for an absolute minimum of two: commander, fighting the vessel, and power plant/EW the other. Of course there was no accommodation planned and the original plans space for this in couriers had been somewhat ambivalently utilized for the weapons systems. The bridge space was less cramped allowing the more modern crew restraints which could be unbent to allow the user to stretch.

Having finished his administrative work McCock suited up and went to B hold to inspect the forming vessel in the assembly dock. He commed his intentions to Polack. On arriving in B hold through the companion ways from officer country he checked the power was off to the rig and threw the power on to the hold lights. The almost finished hull looked forlorn rather than menacing as it rested in its supports in the assembly dock. Moving inside the hull, McCock was struck by a deep sense of loss. This was to be a warship, albeit a small one and it would see service even if only as a prototype; he would never see more service and when the need for R and D work in secret passed then he would be left as a repair yard worker on a planet far from his home. He shook himself and moved to the bridge area and tried to envisage what it would look like when finished. He passed aft past the mid ship's cooking space, food and water storage, EW cabinet areas, environmental spaces and then into the large empty space of the engine room; the engineering watch officers' post was positioned but lacked its panels of instruments.

He looked through the open hull at the power plant positioned at the tween deck, looked back at the engine room space and looked more carefully at the power plant. He needed his laser scale to measure the fore aft measure of the space and then propelled himself to the power plant and measured it. Doing some sums in his head, the thought solidified in his mind.

"Polack" and on acknowledgement, "have you got the exact dimensions for the "Offspring"?"

"I'm reasonably sure they're with the drawings."

"Would you run your laser over her and meet me in the Crew Mess?"

"Roger. Be about fifteen. Suit?"

"Suits. I'll have the coffee ready."

McCock returned to the lounge and got a heat proof container of coffee, collected Polack's and his bulbs – one of several each had conveniently spread about the premises – and going to the Crew Mess booted up the design 'puter in which was stored the project details. Polack joined him holding the "Offspring" chip, gave it to McCock and poured himself a bulb of coffee.

McCock had entered the chip and had the engine space and rear hull of the project on a split screen with the full size "Offspring". He then made corrections to bring both halves to the same scale.

"Why do we need ninety hours of endurance when we have no adequate rest space? If we don't have that after bunker we still have sixty hours. Do we really even need that much in a parasite role?"

To Polack and even McCock himself, as engineers, a vessel could never have enough bunkerage. They discussed the pros and cons of the need for how much endurance in the tactical role of the project. How useful would a tender be? Would it be worth decreasing the endurance of the project? At a cruise of four hundred gravities for twenty five hours out and then twenty five back there was still a ten hour reserve. Could the crew adequately manage sixty hours or even fifty? Polack was very reluctant to decrease bunkerage but agreed that even fifty hours of watch and watch having to remain seated without leaving the position would degrade efficiency and certainly factoring "action stations" into it would send effectiveness out the hatch. They agreed to have the Flock consider the proposition.



-------

Chapter 36



The missing Flock returned mid morning watch and the Avers shortly thereafter. McCock had the card equipment in the office having remembered at the last minute Hugh's instructions. The Avers were enjoying a bulb and discussing the work schedule. The Flock were gathering in the "Trader's" lounge getting themselves a light breakfast; Polack was giving the returnees a run down of the proposal to have a tender space on the project and specifically in the project using the "Offspring".

McCock meanwhile was authorizing the access cards for Tony and 'Mina Galbraith. As he was gathering up the equipment, Hugh handed each of the Galbraiths a very antiquated pocketbook bearing the Royal Coat of Arms. To their puzzled looks,

"My senior got several crates at disposal when Service went PDA. Family believes writing notes reinforces, PDA reading doesn't. Sit. Take notes, stick's in sleeve. This forenoon I wll take you through the lectures on safety in the Yard and emergency procedures will be covered afternoon watch. Tomorrow you will be here midmorning watch and stand down at last dog; that is your work day. Tomorrow and for the rest of this week, you will be assigned a mentor who will instruct you on the machinery. You will not absorb all the machinery instructions but you will my safety lectures.

This yard has five hatches with air locks..."

McCock recognized the NCO lecture tone, 'serious mode, don't forget this'. He joined the Flock after returning the scanner to the Purser's safe. The discussion had finished with agreement. They did not envisage any prolonged period of testing of the prototype and if RMN wanted the higher endurance etc. The tender would be needed for testing runs of the prototype anyway and "Offspring" has passed all its tests receiving certification in the 'local space small yacht' category. Access was to be through aft engine room bulkhead for 'greasers' and shielded tunnel from the forward to aft engine room bulkheads for the topside crew. Air lock hatch at each access point. Shielded tunnel and hatches would be obtained locally and fitted when received. Denny and Slow to co-ordinate with Polack for engine space location and adjust environmental as necessary. Slow to run the additional sensors and harness. Cowboy was given the task of davits in the tender bay and the bay's hatch. Orders to McCock please.

Temporary entries on the 'puter plans ASAP. Cowboy went off to "Trader's" boat bay to take a much closer look at "Offspring's" davit there. McCock loaded additional Armoralloy plates in the dock racks, clocked into the control cabin, checked to locate his colleagues, double checked the A-B hatch and activated the rotating beacons of the assembler. He noted the 'puter boot up and started up the machinery. He drifted on his securing belt scrutinizing the progress of the machinery on both his 'puter and visually on the vids zooming in and out, angling view and making the occasional touch to a control. It was these times with his mind and hands occupied doing something useful that he found most rewarding.

"Aren't you interested in eating," Denny broke into his concentration, "Coming down the slide."

"Occasionally", he replied, turning to remove his food parcel from the front side of the cabin.

Looking at the parcel's contents, McCock remarked

"We could do with some variation in this."

"I've been telling you that for months," came Slow's rejoinder on the open com. A desultory conversation ensued over the food quality and variation with comments, generally negative, from all. That subject being exhausted, silence ensued for several minutes until broken by Slow;

"You know", she said thoughtfully, "I would like to make some mock ups of the bridge to get the feel of the ergonomics of it. Soft models. The major stuff is handled satisfactorily by the 'puter but it don't do 'human' and that's what makes a ship easy or hard. Sometimes just relocating a control, a screen, a key pad just a few centimetres can make a lot of difference. We need the actual control chairs. We can't mock them up; they're standard for each class and I sure don't want to design one from base line. If we cleared the furniture out of the crew mess we'd probably have space."

"Not for bridge, you won't," interjected Cowboy. "Have you seen the size of the command chairs? And they need rotation space. Five of them – Engineering's on the bridge with only an emergency in the actual space."

He mused on,

"The 'puter kept saying six and I was only seeing five. No manual control on the guns, if auto is out, no human can replace it. We'd better be able to run." He ended laughingly.

"I miss Shelley," Slow put in. Denny came back laughingly,

"Know what you mean. Work seemed to be smooth – didn't have to stop to make arrangements or worry about down loading PDA; not that we have many arrangements."

"Besides you're the only one who can say that, we'd be gender discrimitory if we said it and you'd brain us," Cowboy commed at Slow. Slow rejoined,

"Well a lady 'gofer' would do better on the food."

That started off a somewhat general abusive talk which continued until Denny stopped it.

"My watch in five, coming up Aggy?"

At end of first day, Denny shut down the dock assembly and joined the Flock as they moved about the hull inside and out working visually on the needs of the tender. The position of the tunnel hatches was marked and then Polack floated to the theoretical plant position; it looked according to plan. He then got Denny to float at the theoretical after corner of the plant and allowed that the hatch would clear.

"Question?" Polack called.

"Go", replied McCOck

Polack began thoughtfully,

"Engine position here is full back. Inertial compensator is forward of plant lower aspect of that bulkhead. Missiles are forward all the way at that level. We can fit an air lock in this forward bulkhead. So we need atmosphere in the engine space and the boat bay?"

"Can we put the bulkhead hatches for both engine space and tunnel close so that we only require a single hatch from forward compartments?" asked Cowboy.

"Environmental could be too tight. At present we go on either side of that. Good idea if we can do it. Will decrease the 'enviro' load significantly. Might have to relocate toilet forward for access. Cowboy, you look at your idea and I'll look at enviro. We'll meet with Aggy just before forenoon tomorrow for a co-ordinated look at the 'puter. Suit?"

"Probably, I'll play with this after dinner," said McCock, "wash up, relax and see you all in the lounge at one last dog."



-------

Chapter 37



"That's it!" screamed Slow coming over the Flock's com. link, "no more, I'm feyed with this local ordering. Aggy, we need a 'gofor'!"

McCock found Slow in a pile of mashed and melted mache in the lounge. She was pounding a crumpled mess into a smaller mess with a glue gun. As she heard McCock enter the lounge, she had turned to him offering him a twisted offering of some material which was burnt around the edges.

She snarled,

"That's two days work. It blister'ering melted; its crap. I want to play with this stuff, not have to run all over dirtside trying to find the stuff that coherently glues. Besides," she added slyly, "you're behind on the yard reports; and we are starting to get items coming by secure transport requiring signature. I've decided! We need a 'gofer'; female; can handle small vessels; understands record keeping, red tape and such; can keep secrets and generally keep busy."

Rather helplessly, McCock asked,

"I'll regret asking, why female?"

With a huge smile, Slow looked at him answering immediately.

"Decorative, keep me company, will have a better taste in food and will be inherently neat and tidy. She can bunk in second class passenger cabin and work in purser's office. Dine with us of course."

Denny proffered,

"How about 'Mina."

"She's only decorative," snorted Slow.

"And where do I find such a paragon if she exists?" McCock asked. Slow gave him a very school mistressy look,

"Navy, of course. Writer, with coxswain as second, Silas."

Polack moaned,

"She's been around Hugh for too long."

"No," considered Cowboy, "Hugh would never have added the "of course". Still not a bad idea, Aggy. There are any number of small jobs, such as "Offspring's" davits, what range of sizes available etc. I'd rather be playing with my tubes which arrive tomorrow. I'll need modelling for sure and that is going to take longer then hull construction. The 'puter does fine once it's told what to do and in general design work but it's getting down to the dirty hands bit now."

McCock checked with Hugh who couldn't help,

"Writer's not a family trade. Galbraiths are coming on, 'Mina's better on hand tools".

Nodded and dismissed himself to work on the seamer with Tony.

McCock passed the request up the chain of command and then got to his work doing the week's revictualling wryly smiling to himself.

The Flock might have been just a touch enthusiastic about modelling but it got dulled as they realized how tedious it was and messy and toxic. The lounge was not designed as a workshop, but they shifted their enthusiasm to bring about differing environments and quickly built a makeshift workshop in A tweendeck. They didn't remember who first came up with the idea but they cheated; and having decided to cheat they did it on a grand scale. They learnt early that hot atmosphere speeded up the curing of the material. They also found that time in a warm atmosphere was as good if great care was taken with the resins. The Flock knew care; they were still nerds who just communicated and interacted better; they lived obsessive; forget anything as trivial as mere great care. They had been plastering the hull itself with the fabric in sizes which would fit through the No 5 hatch. Now at the end of working week, they plastered parts of the project, left them cure slowly over the week end, and late middle watch first day removed the cured pieces, through AB hatch and into A tween. They had also found that the gravity in the accommodation was unkind to models but they found the original sizing to be convenient. With bulkhead bracing, the model retained its shape and soon there was almost a complete forward end of the project. Nothing was made final off the model. The 'puter and eyeball Mk1 had to confirm, but it did save a bit of worry and heartache over the ensuing months of fitting out.

Some months after the Galbraiths began their work experience McCock was approached in "The Green Man" by a prosperously dressed man, understated as only the very rich and secure can be.

"McCock? I am Joshua Galbraith, may I buy your friend and you a drink?"

Erin sat herself in the lounge while the men folk brought the drinks. McCock's mind was growing concerned as Sir Joshua casually chatted while waiting for the bartender to make the drinks. They returned to Erin and settled themselves. McCock introduced Erin to Sir Joshua who responded courteously and then seamlessly continued,

"I want to thank you and your group, McCock, for what you have done for my children."

"That racer was a write off and it was unsafe. Tony took it rather well I thought."

Children he said children dropped into McCock's awareness,

"'Mina I don't think er know what..." he ended confusingly.

Sir Joshua was silent for a few moments looking at McCock's confusion.

"You don't know the Avers, do you? Outside the Navy I mean? No! Not surprising as you are not a native of 'Pest. The Avers never seek election or public office yet, if they want something done, it gets done. Their years, centuries really in the Navy, the family as a whole, means they come in contact with just about every politician and through them the commercial world. There are a lot of retired Naval Officers and many who serve short term in the Navy, as their public duty, in the commercial world. The Coxswain on the Queen's pinnace on the Royal Yacht is an Aver, has been seen the first yacht was commissioned. Hugh knows Tony and 'Mina, not well, and knows of me and my position. We've met twice I think, the last time was before the yacht incident...

The Avers do have a habit of taking troubled young under their wings and, usually successfully, teaching them about their responsibility to the community in which they live. Some would call them interferers in matters which should not concern them. I don't. I have been worried abut the damage Tony would do before he matured. Even with 'Mina's calming influence the boy was getting into too many scrapes. 'Mina, I never worried about...

As it was, Tony admitted to me what happened and that he allowed a friend to mangle that governor. Hugh Avers dressed Tony down solidly. Tony said he never raised his voice, didn't swear at him and didn't demean him. 'Mina was quite impressed. Tony thought he was given the choice of 'work experience' or face my wrath. Hugh allowed him to think that but an Avers wouldn't put a man "in". If Tony had not agreed, Hugh would simply have dismissed him as not being worth troubling about...

Oh no! I heard about it in a round about way after Tony had confessed all. Working in your yard under the Avers has improved Tony tremendously. When Hugh finishes with them I'll bring them into the business. I am in good company being indebted to the Avers but they are your men and your yard. I stand in your debt. Thank you."

Sir Joshua stood, shook their hands and departed.

After their guest's departure, Erin began giggling. McCock looked at her,

"'Mina and Denny. I though he was going to make something out of it. You don't know? They've been going together the past few weeks."



-------

Chapter 38



Polack and Cowboy, with intermittent assistance from McCock put in the ducting and ran the harnesses. They placed hatches for access to the tender bay and put in the access tunnel. Main environmental was fixed just forward of the engine space bulkhead, the plumbing connected and the duct isolation connections made. The power connections to Enviro were made at that end.

Denny and Slow were working on the forward area using the model. The Flock often assembled on the bridge mock up to sit in their command chairs which were put onto the model. They tested the positioning of the chairs and of the screens and holes to get the best fit. The final selection of layout was eventually made with a slightly less than optimal fit with a five person crew so that two using tactical and engineering positions could control and fight the project.

Bit by bit the project was assembled. The bridge components were positioned and secured (with a few prayers offered to Murphy). Cowboy fabricated his ten missile nest opting finally for a six inboard four outboard. He moved the nest forward three metres with extension to the hull to cover the nest; this gave the option of a small missile magazine; there can never be enough missiles. Polack made the disengenious comment that the space would do well for additional bunkerage. To head off the potential nit picking McCock announced he wasn't going to buy into that one either and would leave the choice to higher.

The inertial compensator and then the power plant were secured with the power connections to environmental. The power plant had been statically tested on its stand prior to mounting; Murphy might have struck since the factory testing. The power was connected to enviro and the IC. The bus bars were connected but isolated.

The side and bow wall generators were fitted and then the weapon cameras. The last things fitted were the beta nodes. The minutiae was attended to and internal inspections working from 'puter lists were undertaken. The project was complete; now would it work?

McCock stood the Flock down to give them all a break together. They spent several days dirtside at "the Green Man" where Erin and 'Mina had joined them.

Upon their return to the yard, "Horrible" and "Offspring" were filled with victuals and water. At three day first watch, the portside B hatch was opened. With Slow in "Offspring" as guard ship, "Horrible" with Polack at the helm pulled the inert project out of the hold. McCock, Denny and Cowboy acted as human buffers in the hold. Once clear and B hold closed, Denny entered the Project and McCock and Cowboy joined Polack.

Having obtained the Harbour Master's authorization, GmBH was spacing to Gorgipest's smallest moon; technically, being so small it was an asteroid trapped in outer orbit. It was used by space yachts as an occasional overnight stop on a weekend's sailing. It was now closed off space as the Harbour Master, at the behest of GmBH and payment of the necessary fee, had issued a NOTAM informing all concerned that testing was to be undertaken.

A fairing had been placed over the missile tubes but the gun mount cameras were there for all to see.

The party tied up at the unofficial mooring and repaired on board "Offspring" to use the fresher and eat. Between them, they established the watches with one on a duty watch at all times. The Flock including the OW would work on the 'Project', as it had become known, according to the testing schedule issued by the Navy for acceptance of vessels.

The power plant was restarted and Polack did the full power static tests monitoring the progress on the Engine Space position. When he was satisfied, power was brought back to 'alongside standby'. 'Alongside' was no external power available as compared to harbourside where it was. A HAC was not expected to moor in space. The Flock took up their positions on the bridge. Enviromental was brought up first and its condition monitored. When it had come fully up all but the OW doffed their skin suits helmets. As a safety measure the OW was to be suited fully at all times even on "Offspring" and not working. They all tested the ablutions – Murphy disdained to indulge himself here. One at a time each bridge system was powered up and tested; then in combinations until the full suite was powered up. Murphy did make an appearance when the Tac and Nav functions were up together. It took the Flock three watches to locate the fault – a minute short across the bridge bus bar. The emergency shut down and compartment isolations were carefully tested several times and monitored.

A work session was diverted to going over the 'puter records at that point; each of them went over each of the records so that five brains had scrutinized those records.

"Offspring" was secured in the Project's tender bay. A period of rest and Polack used "Horrible" to tow the Project off the asteroid's surface. With the others at their bridge positions, McCock, at the Engine Space position, slowly threw power onto the beta nodes. Slow at Nav tested the thrusters individually at low settings. McCock took a deep breath and gave the command,

"Slow, move us ahead dead slow. Polack keep the line nearly taut"; stifled joyous sounds filled the com as the Project moved under her own power for the first time.

"Helmsman, see if she answers", and with a smile almost reaching around her head, Slow moved her controls comming to Polack for confirmation and watching her tell tales. When the manoeuvres were completed she reported,

"Captain, she tests aye."

McCock replied, "Stop Engines," and ordered Cowboy to the Engineer's position. Cowboy acknowledged in position and after warning Cowboy that he was 'live' McCock transferred power plant control to the bridge with the instruction to maintain atmosphere in the Engine space and returned to his chair on the bridge.

"All positions acknowledge. "Horrible" prepare to take in tow line."

Tac Nav, Engineer, EW- Weapons (Denny doubled up having nothing in his speciality to do yet) acknowledged. All were in green.

""Horrible" stay in company. Let go the tow line."

Polack reeled in the line. Project was free with power up.

"Dead slow ahead; helmsman keep her at this."

At slow speed Project was taken for a short journey moving through all dimensions ending up above the mooring.

"That's enough excitement for the day! "Horrible" make a line from Project to the mooring and then return. We'll victual "Project" out of "Horrible" so you'll need to join hatches. Close down the bridge." As the bridged panels were shut down, they discussed tomorrow's tac nav runs with several more journeys at increasing gravities.

"Horrible" reported alongside matching hatches, the tunnel was passed and the connection made. Victuals were transferred and sorted in the cubby at the after bridge. Looking about McCock saw Cowboy fully suited.

"You've got the bridge. Better make the running lights or some stupid person might ram us."

BANG! And the bridge illumination went down. They all reflexly pulled their helmets over and sealed them.

Polack pushed himself across to Engineering,

"Enviro is up" and after a pause "and holding!" Slow was at the bridge breaker panel and reported,

"The bridge bus bar breaker and the running lights breaker have both tripped. Not good."

McCock considered,

"Murphy has come aboard. We're too tired to go looking for the fault now. Cowboy rig emergency lighting, Slow you help him. Denny you and I will EVA with portable lights from the barge. Polack, get the portables and then go safety for us."

Slow objected,

"No! Denny you help Cowboy. I'll go EVA; I need some time on that; I've got some time to make up remember."

Denny didn't object,

"Pushy thing isn't she? Suits."

The fault was found next day by Slow, still pushing her way for EVA. It was at the connection to the aft running light. The small vibrations in the hull caused by the power plant had loosened a faulty wire connection in the harness.

The trials continued with Murphy on leave. Working up to full power trials, leaving Denny, in "Horrible", metaphorically out of sight. Testing to side wall and bow wall shields had Slow in "Offspring" using her testing gear. Denny and she alternated repeating the tests at varying ranges, velocities, and spherical points. Cowboy's systems were tested using the cameras and Project responded excellently in close-in encounters. Cowboy's scenario that Slow in "Offspring" play an enemy light cruiser had her dissolving in laughter with unexpected gurgles from "Offspring" during the scenarios.

A quietly jubilant Flock returned to the "Trader" after two weeks of trials. Before berthing in B hold, "Offspring" was returned to the boat bay, and power plant was placed on stand by. Rowan had been informed of the commencement of the trials and a signal was passed indicating success upon berthing Project.

After a rest day, the Flock assembled in the Crew Mess and using the black 'puter and the design 'puter went into two weeks intensive wash ups. The logs were again inspected and the events reviewed. The reports were compiled, appendixed, annotated, and cross referenced.

The Cockerel and his Flock were of the opinion that the Project had a place in the fleet as a semi independent parasite weapon, best as a swarm, mounted in a carrier vessel or less so as a single weapon mounted on a fleet vessel to be a multiplier.



-------

Chapter 39



Erin had gone, disappeared, leaving McCock stunned.

The Flock had been tidying up the reports when word was received that Rowan and a party of fifteen would be arriving on First Day, a week hence. There were some very rude comments uttered about the short notice and a few pointed questions about how come Rowan was a week out when the voyage was two to three weeks by even fastest freighter and sixteen would not fit in a courier.

McCock suggested that they finish up and have a holiday dirtside. His expressed intention was to base himself in "The Green Man" and spend some time with Erin.

All hatches except No 4 on the "Trader" were mechanically blocked from inside "Trader". The Avers agreed to have an anchor watch covering that week end and surveillance of the "Trader" was switched to the office.

McCock had his first inkling when he could not com Erin at her home. It burst upon him when her section chief at the Naval Yard told him Erin had given a month's notice, had worked it out, cleaned out her desk and gone. The section chief thought Erin had returned to Mountserrat but was not sure.

McCock had noticeably withdrawn into himself enough that Slow had asked him about it. Over the preceeding months Slow had thought she had seen signs of tension between Erin and McCock and had been concerned as a friend of both of them. Some distancing of McCock from the others had made Slow express her concern to Polack. Polack was not unsympathetic but considered that Erin and McCock had to deal with their own personal problems and until there was an effect upon the Flock, they, the Flock, should stay out of it.

Mine Host had given McCock an old style envelope as soon as the Flock had arrived. Slow has stayed behind as the other men made their way to their rooms. As he read the short message on the single page, McCock had appeared to go rigid within himself. Passing a few words to Mine Host, McCock had entered the reception office; a brief hum had sounded and McCock emerged with empty hands. He had looked at Slow as he passed her simply saying,

"Erin isn't coming," and had gone to his new room.

McCock realized he cast a pall over his friends so he absented himself for long periods of the day going for long scenic walks or working out in a nearby gymnasium. When he returned he would join his friends for dinner, have a few drinks afterwards, talk about the news faxes reports, local and galactic, and then excuse himself to his room. To his friends, he had lost a little bit of his humanity and they couldn't reach him.

A com came for McCock mid afternoon last day. Rowan and party would be arriving at "Trader's" No 5 hatch mid first watch. He excused himself to his friends simply saying he was needed at "Trader". Rowan and party arrived in a Fleet Underway Replenishment Ship. McCock spent the next several hours unblocking B port hatch to allow a small 'tainer to be passed in, to be held under the tween decks on starboard side. He had cycled the No 5 hatch after the FURS had locked on and pointed the arriving Horde down to passenger cabins. Victuals had been stacked in the lounge while he was in B. The Horde sorted themselves out as the FURS disconnected. Moved off to the Navy Yard, Rowan said. The Horde opened the lounge kitchen and while two of their members cooked up the meal the others spread tables and chairs back where they had been in the lounge.

Having brought their own plates etc, McCock didn't think it worthwhile to mention the ship's crockery in the purser's office. He wasn't up to being extra nice. He did point out the bed linen stores when he saw the kit the Horde had brought with them expecting to use. Basic – very basic. Rowan notified all that a meeting in the lounge area at eight morning and get their ablution and breakfast between four and seven. They disappeared to their quarters and a different quiet settled over "Trader".

The Flock, not having been told that the Horde were already on board, had commed ahead and McCock had directed them to the boat bay. They were not in the best condition having felt they could have a celebration not offending their absent friend. McCock allowed them to cycle through the hatch and met them in the gym. They were somewhat surprised to find five or so people warming down from exercise. They took off smartly when McCock pointed out they were required to be present at a meeting in the lounge in twelve minutes. He used his suit com to inform them the dress was GmBH dungarees.

Rowan made the introductions without mentioning any ranks. The Horde all had official name tags and it was to the good that the Flock wasn't seeing too well or they would have reacted with catatonic shock at the quantity of rank. A general run down of the Project took Rowan to midday. That meal was the last quiet time for a week as the Horde descended upon the Project dragging the Flock along in its wake. The Project was minutely examined and it became quickly obvious that while the Horde was enjoying themselves like kids in a wading pool, there was serious talent with serious intent present. The Flock suffered most at the hand of the Senior NCOs who were the lowest ranks of the Horde; these were the men who got their hands dirty on equipment and their practical expertise was deferred to.

Several of the Buships engineers had time with McCock questioning him closely on how he saw Projects being carried in a freighter. They had a holo of a merchantman and of a proposed warship. A system to be fitted into the merchantman was modelled and a meeting of minds was achieved. The acknowledged end was an Armed Merchant Cruiser otherwise referred to as "Q" ships. The lower deck, with its tribal memories of things like "Jervis Bay" and "Rawalpindi", referred to Admiralty Made Coffins. RMN had used them in the past utilizing existing vessels. Some Navies including Harbouria purpose built. There were arguments for both but cost was a decisive factor in RMN.

The concept of a purpose built carrier allowed the wish lists to run amok and at the end of the second session, the Commodore presiding laughingly closed the meeting with the comment that the bean counters had yet to rip the concept apart but at least there had been no suggestions of gold plated toilets.

During the week a surprise visitor entered the yard. 'Red' Milligan, in civilian garb, had come to see how his old space mate, Hugh Avers, was and to swap 'warries'. This he did but at the end of the work day was shown across to "Trader" where he was bunked down in First Officer's cabin in officer country. After enjoying his meal in the lounge, he joined McCock and Rowan in the Captain's Cabin for the real purpose of his visit.

The Flock's futures.

McCock had bluntly stated he wanted to return to the Navy and serve in space on a warship again. He was being left behind his classmates etc. Milligan heard him out and just as bluntly replied,

"We can't! You are not a Mounty, you are a Grenoble seconded to RMN. That has suited us in the past and we are going to use in the future. Under the usual career moves you would have been posted out of Wep Dev and into the fleet. But the fracas which sent you here, and I'm very grateful for it, has literally blown up in our faces again...

You've heard about "Forceful"? No?...

Shortly after you left, Diana got "Forceful", light cruiser. She was coming in for major work over and Diana persuaded the Board to rip her open and put a bloody great graser in her guts. Didn't leave "Forceful" with much else. Took just on a year to do the modifications. A brand new Captain was appointed, fresh out of "Crusher", Cdr Virginia Cunningham."

McCock interrupted,

"Know of her, she was a year ahead, absolutely all round brilliant. So she's got her first ship and as Commander. I am glad for her, not that I know her, but that is what I'm getting at. My classmates are all senior lieutenants or Lt Cdrs and I'm stuck as Lieutenant jg."

"In Grenoble Defence Force", Milligan pointed out, "but let me go on. At the Fleet exercises, Cunningham ambushed the flagship. As you pointed out that would be it. "Forceful" got eliminated every other time she showed her bow. No one wanted her, too unique and Diana was screaming – her project spoiled by demonstrated lack of skill etc etc – quite unfairly, according to Admiral Andrew Browne who was on the flagship...

"Forceful" is sent to Raffles – exile. Ends up being Senior officer because the senior ship returns to Mountserrat. Cunningham turns the place inside out making a nuisance of herself picking up a handy amount of prize money in the process...

Cunningham manages to spoil a Harbourian operation and in the process takes on a Harbourian Q ship. It was very bloody, Cunningham took frightening casualties but for good reason she pushed it when she should have broken off; perhaps not even engaged. But fight it out she did and admits that the Harbourite made a mistake, probably out of frustration, at "Forceful's" refusal to die. "Forceful" got that graser into it and the Q ship is space debris. "Forceful" made her own way back, somehow, straight to the breaker's yard...

Cunningham then presents a paper at an open meeting at Wep Dev and reams Buships a news one...

That's why we can't bring you back. Cunningham is fireproof. You aren't."

Milligan looked around the cabin and asked,

"Have you got some alcohol? I need something to wash the taste out of my mouth."

McCock got a cut glass stoppered bottle containing a dark brown fluid and three tumblers. He poured himself a good slug and passed the bottle.

Milligan raised his glass in silent toast, held the whisky in his mouth appreciatively and then swallowed.

"Deity, that's good. I needed that." Cradling his glass, he continued,

"Aggy, we, the Navy, are going to use you badly. We are going to take unfair advantage of your honesty, integrity and your abilities and at the end of it we'll probably kiss your arse goodbye and boot you out. But we NEED you and the Flock. We are operating on the legendary shoe lace and are getting you on the cheap...

We have got one good thing for you. The funds we got to establish these yards we got made into a subsidy for the GDF Navy and that's you. It really means at least you own the yard as opposed to just GmBH; and its running at a nice profit paying your wages as owner manager. But what we got back from you in that HAC project has paid us back very well...

Your future. You stay here, doing another project for us. Silas tells me you have corresponded from time to time on where this HAC leads and you and he have had some ideas. We want you to develop a small, say two to four thousand tonnes of hyper capable vessel with primary armament that graser of Diana's. We've gamed this out in plans and it looks very promising; we've also got some unmanned unpowered vessels we are planning to use to extend range of our major ship missiles and increase the number of missiles we can control in a salvo. See if you can power them at least and possibly man and defend them. That bit is secondary though...

I'm here overnight and will spend tomorrow looking over the HAC...

Oh, nearly forgot; another sop, we're promoting your people to PO 1 and seconding them to GDF to keep them off our books. Thoreau has authorized your promotion to Lt. Cdr. Congratulations Commander, your health, and let's demolish this bottle. Know any good stories Silas?"



-------

Chapter 40



Milligan completed his inspection of the HAC and departed to continue his inspection of the Navy Yard.

The Horde discovered "Offspring". Whenever some of them were at loose ends, they would take "Offspring" for a run out to near space. It would have been hilarious to the Flock, listening to Flag Officers squabbling with Chiefs as to who would be coxswain, except that they were being worked hard whilst intruders were playing with their toy. However the 'put out' feeling was being overwhelmed by their feelings of pride and satisfaction. Compliments and approvals flowed to the Flock from people who obviously did not praise lightly.

After a week of intense interrogation, explanations, recapping and whatever, Rowan called a meeting.

"We are on schedule", he reported. What schedule? The Flock hadn't heard of one. "Time for trials. "Antelope" will come alongside middle watch. The HAC will be moved to her No 3 hold and then we'll repair on board. Aggy, you bunk with me. Your team is assigned to Cabin D15, it's a four bunk. While the trials are in progress the team will be in the control room at all times. You'll be notified of messing by Chief of the Boat."

He then went on to detail the handling crew to put "Offspring" in the tender bay and the HAC into "Antelope". He turned to the Flock

"Expect to be away a week. Hugh has been told. You will be returning in "Offspring" – you've been away for a holiday cruise. You enjoyed it won't you?" smiling evilly at them.

As they walked away after the meeting, Rowan told McCock the reason for "Offspring" in the tender bay,

"You forgot the 'abandon ship' drills. The tender will be a naval craft but the escape procedures still need to be tested." In response to McCock's derisive snort, he elucidated

"Procedures, my lad. Procedures."

The transfer to "Antelope" was not attended by Murphy and she moved out beyond the moon's orbit into the PRD zone for testing, live firing etc for vessels from the Navy Yard. Briefings were held during the voyage out and the testing programmes discussed. When the first exercise was to begin, the Flock was jammed into the control room. They got a shock when they saw on a screen the Project move out of "Antelope". The Project had been molecular sprayed with the Navy white of space going vessels. Cowboy drew their attention to another screen which showed the lower surface. The fairing had been removed and there appeared to be missiles in the tubes.

"Inert. We'll be doing firing runs at drone targets", explained a portly gentleman whose name tag identified him as Commodore Ayers.

The next two days were repeats of the manoeuvring trials including the full power trials. The screens of the HAC's crew showed smiles all around.

The shields were raised and were tested by objects fired from "Antelope" gradually increasing the forces applied up beyond the rated maximum to the test maximum.

Detection trials were performed first with shields down and ballistic. Denny was on "Antelope" bridge with their duty crew plus the Horde's experts. The HAC's small size made her very difficult to detect. With shields and under power, she was still difficult to detect. Against all locating modes, active and passive, the HAC made a comparatively small target. This made her a difficult weapon to defend against on the simulated firing runs.

The "dog fighting" trials using "Offspring" appeared to the Flock to go on far longer than was necessary with heated discussions on which "Antelope's" senior ranks joined the crew of "Offspring"; not that there weren't enough volunteers for the HAC. Commodore Ayers gave the explanation,

"To counter these damned things will require us to have a large number of similar vessels to cover a fleet's near space. The counter will have to be as fast and as agile. With the head start RMN will have in these things, why squander the advantage by not thinking ahead."

He quite spoilt the effect by adding with a wide smile,

"And besides it's the most fun I've had in the Navy since Sandhurst College and there's not many perks left navigating a desk."

Rowan got McCock in conference every non sleeping spare moment he had.

"Got a lot of information for the HCL in general; new materials and equipment that has come to Wep Dev and Buships."

There was some break through in small vessel power plants. This matter had attracted the Flock's attention in powering the HAC. There Polack had crashed through early in the process by selecting the largest power plant that would physically fit and the systems followed in step.

The universe had moved away from fission piles to fusion plants. There were less problems with fusion. But the universe had forgotten about the Renmarks and so didn't tell them about the change. The Renmarks had, not really happily, continued using and improving fisson piles. Commercial contact had been growing between Mountserrat and Renmark over the past fifty years. Mountserrat was gathering a group to explore official relations between the two governments with a mutual aid treaty envisaged.

The upshot was that for the Flock's news purpose in R&D, there existed a very powerful plant of a size that would easily fit into the proposed HCL with surplus theoretical power to transform a graser from a slow one-shot weapon into an effective repeater. Rowan gave McCock the literature and reports. McCock used "Antelope's" 'puters and worked his way through the power calculations presuming a six hundred plus acceleration. Rowan and he discussed the results.

McCock proposed to have twin piles to enable hyper on one pile with much reduced power in the event of breakdown of a pile. Rowan reposited that fall back position should be made that conventional power plant could be fitted if the piles did not work out.

McCock had been quite exercised by the little gem that "Forceful" would have been almost defenceless in hyper.

During his contacts with Rowan, McCock had increasing contact with the Chief Yeoman Writer who had been introduced as Rowan's secretary. McCock smelled a very dead rodent. Rowan? A Writer Secretary? On "Antelope"? Personal secretary? Did definitely not 'pute. McCock hoped he wasn't around when the bucket cascaded. It proved to be nowhere as bad when it did. Shortly before completion of the trials, Rowan had enquired what he thought of Chief McGraw. Efficient. Could you work with her? Probably. Good, she's yours; Laurence hass put her on the Reserve; Bollard Line has authorized MFH to employ her at GmBH; Gort has accommodation etc arranged. McCock realized he had been bypassed, yet again.

The last days of the trial were the missile runs. Some heavy talent from the Horde took position in "Antelope's" simulator. Equally talented crew manned the HAC. A drone target missile was released from "Antelope" and it was "game on". To the Flock, crammed in the control centre, it became quickly obvious that this wasn't a game but a serious investigation of the capacities of the HAC and counter measures. The weapon system was proven but it also was obvious that the HAC tactics were critical to success. The surplus Horde had "Offspring" to observe the exercise and retrieve the inert test missiles.

The HAC was secured in "Antelope's" hold as she turned for a close run to Gorgipest. Commodore Arey presented the Flock with Certificates of Appreciation and Rowan gave McCock a copy of the account GmBH was to present to Treasury. It already had the appropriate Naval stamps and signatures. Rowan told McCock that he had already sent the original on to Treasury. McCock was looking confused – he didn't know anything about an account. Rowan smiled very cheerfully, "Your Office Manager, Ms McGraw, drew it up; I helped of course. How else can we get this project, developed and built in a Yard on Gorgipest, on a Navy R& D contract, onto the Navy list?"

McCock had been by passed again. Yet again.

"Offspring's" tanks were topped up and at nearest point, jammed tight with six people and kit, headed back to GmBH yard.



-------

Chapter 41



McCock sent the Flock on two days leave from GmBH. He took "Offspring" to Gorgipest Yacht Club where his application for membership was quickly approved. He went there on most of his breaks and rarely used "The Green Man". The Flock learned through Tony and 'Mina Galbraith that McCock spent most of his time alone, in his EVA suit, tethered to "Offspring's" hull, apparently just gazing out to space or contemplating the origins of the universe. There remained a remoteness about the man which his close friends were finally forced to accept.

On their return from leave, the discussion began as to the design of the Hypercapable HAC quickly shortened to HCL. A hypercapable craft introduced many more factors into the equations. The basic shape was quickly decided as that design was forced upon them by the specification that the main armament was that graser. The actual weapon was in B hold now. The Flock felt frustrated and annoyed that they were tied to a particular weapon from the start. This time the craft followed the single weapon and that restricted their choices. The selection of the HAC power plant had still been part of the design compromises as only two general characteristics, acceleration and tonnage were specified. HCL had general characteristics and tonnage with planned role as had HAC, with hypercapable added but all restricted by a large weapon in a small ship. The lead experiment "Forceful" had revealed that a CL didn't have enough power to fight her main armament in hyper and hadn't had enough secondary armament / weapons.

Endurance with associated bunkerage and victualling had to be considered with manning and this began to look insurmountable.

Polack again resolved this sticking point. He had pored over the information from Rowan on the Renmark plants and realized the point which McCock had not fully appreciated; a fission pile did not require bunkerage. It was fuelled by fissionables which lasted from ten to twenty years. At the end of that time the piles are replaced and the nuclear waste recycled by throwing it into a star. As McCock had calculated, two fission plants would supply power for hyperspace travel and in the event of hyper combat the graser would be effective. The power plant – main armament nexus became the concept's centre.

"Forceful" had been effectively disarmed for stand off combat. HCL was going to have to rely on its acceleration and stealth to disengage from graser range. Without the need for bunkerage there was space for perhaps some missiles to use on small targets and at the range of the graser, to make a big boy, well a bigger boy, manoeuvre – an attack against a ship of the wall would be ineffective as well as suicidal.

Slowly the concept came to life as the parameters tightened. Life support became the last major compromise. Despite the power plants, there was not enough margin for gravity in normal space; that main armament was energy hungry and provisions for that tied up a very significant proportion of main plant energy – of course if the enemy would be so kind to give advance warning of intentions then all the benefits of home could be had and making small sacrifices of loss of amenities so the main armament could be powered up in time ... That would be a lovely way to fight a war.

The Flock were nearly at the stage of rough drawing the hull and components when unforeseen help came from a most unexpected source.

McCock was at his regular weekly briefing from Hugh and Paul on the progress of the present yard work and future bookings. The briefing appeared to be finished but Hugh and Paul made no move to depart. He saw Hugh look at Sally McGraw who was taking the minutes; Hugh's and Sally's gazes locked for some moments until Sally gave a firm nod and shut down the recorder and pocketed her stylus. Hugh got a confirmatory nod from Paul, faced McCock,

"Caps in the corner, Aggy?"

McCock's surprise was evident but he quickly recovered and raised an eyebrow at Hugh who simply said,

"Milligan"

The ramification and implications of that single work rocketed around McCock's brain almost causing lights to flash from his eyes. McCock waved the 'come on'.

"Saw FURS. Asked Milligan. Briefed past and future. Act security full time, other help as needed."

McCock took several minutes digesting that pregnant message before looking enquiringly at McGraw who shrugged her shoulders and a little more fully explained,

"Milligan and Rowan think Mountserrat is running out of time. That's part of the reason for the negotiations with Renmark. They want as many weapon systems in the pipeline, proven, and at least in development production before war breaks out. We'll still be so unprepared that R&D will take a back seat to production. You were helped to fall on your feet." Nodding at Hugh, "But the Avers are retired and can't be ordered about. They had to be asked to volunteer their services – uninformed."

McCock considered these points slowly and deeply; he nodded to himself and spoke into his comm.,

"General call, assemble in crew mess."

He signalled to the others to follow him, used his access card and led them to what was the planning room.

The Flock were there before them and they looked expectantly at McCock. He brought them up to date after indicating to the two outsiders to sit. He then brought the outsiders up to date. During the midday meal break, the access cards' restrictions were removed and a short tour of the "Trader" was conducted afterwards. The discussions were continued until evening meal. The other Avers came to that meal after the yard was closed for the day with no overnight work scheduled and the united group repaired to the lounge which had been restored to its hey day glory during the presence of the Horde. Hugh had concisely briefed his other relatives and McCock had altered their access cards.

As they had settled in, Hugh had looked at the relatives and said,

"Wayne?" The others nodded and Hugh went on.

"Wayne Burton-Avers, hyphenated surname, naval architect in navy yard, all clearances. Secondment?"

The Flock looked at each other and after a pause, Polack reflected,

"Hypercapability – I'm out of my depth and I'd not want to have to rely on the libraries to build this hull; hands on experience does help at this level. We got away practicing on a kit yacht – very well built as I say so – but hyper she wasn't."

The Flock agreed and McCock asked Hugh to contact Wayne. Hugh demurred and pointed out that if Wayne was to be seconded, the approach had to be semi official. He also pointed out that Navy Yard top brass had to be aware GmBH was up to something because they had to have known, well probably did know, about the FURS detour and extended stay out in the PRD area.

McCock agreed to make the contact.

Because of time constraints and a larger vessel more work force would be required. Slow, for the first time the Flock knew of, lived up to her nickname when she asked where the work force would be obtained. The roars of silence and looks of incredulity caused her intense embarrassment and she muttered almost to herself.

"Oh dear! The Avers of course."

The last word that evening came from Theo,

"Often wondered what colour a blushing black person would produce. Interesting shade of purple I think."



-------

Chapter 42



Wayne Burton-Avers was a big man with hands the size of shovels. Despite his conservative business attire he looked out of place in an office; he looked as if he should be out on the yard holding metal plates in position for seaming. The Flock were not surprised when they later learned that Wayne was a foundation member of the Steam Engine Club with a special interest in hand riveting.

"He probably just squeezes with one hand." Denny opined.

As Wayne lived dirtside locally, he continued to commute daily to his new office. He was officially seconded but that information was held tight with only the Navy Yard Commanding Officer in the loop. His colleagues were just told that he was going to work for GmBH allowing them to believe the fields were greener over on that side of the channel. He was, by arrangement, let go on two weeks' notice.

In keeping with his size he was deliberate with his approach to his work. There were long and intense discussions involving detailed questioning by Wayne. After one discussion period Cowboy made unfavourable comparisons with having to discuss a presentation with Head of Department at the Naval Technical School. Wayne quickly grasped all the reins and developed the Flock's knowledge base considerably. He introduced them to 'puter techniques in design which enabled him to assess, modify and incorporate into the much more complicated drawings required of a hypercabable vessel.

He had replied to one of McCock's appreciative comments that the Flock would have, in fullness of time, made the final drawings. Denny answered for the Flock,

"When? Next century?"

Toward the latter end of the planning, the vexed question of manning had again arisen and McCock presented his solution.

"We'll make an absolute minimum of six; that calls for a crew of twelve needing six bunks for watch on and watch off, hot bunking, bringing crew up to CO plus twelve. Captain's cubby with personal fresher and office on port side forward of enviro with bunks for the crew starboard side. Higher can work out officer NCO breakdown and variations in accommodation."

The lesson from "Forceful" having her secondary capacities so down-graded was of great concern to both McCock and Cowboy; the latter probably because the whole purpose of a warship was to have weapons and everything was secondary to that end. The Flock had learned better manners over the past years and no longer raised disparaging taunts about the others' special interests; they had soon appreciated the interlocking of everything in a design and the comparative values of the compromises.

Cowboy had developed his idea in the HAC where he had had space behind his nest. The others appreciated having stand off weapons. Advance word had been received from Rowan that questions had been raised at Wep Dep about the effectiveness of counter missiles in anti shipping role particularly if the other ship was a warship. Preliminary work had been started on development. Cowboy sourly commented to the Flock about 'dreams' and submitted his proposal to mount CL missiles which were now available. No one quibbled on the choice but the discussion was joined as to total load, salvo size, magazine location etc. Because the overall size of the HCL precluded broadside firing, a chaser weapon spread was accepted with dedicated magazines. Four tubes forward, spread under the muzzle of the graser with four missile magazines for each tube angled to either side of the graser mount; it had been considered jettisoning the idea of the tubes, but at this level of development they were mainly used for pre-programming the missile. (The flock considered com programming to be to novel and untried at this stage.) The bow wall generator would be mounted on the other side of the graser giving the bow from front view a rounded triangular shape. Aft tubes were mounted above the tender bay with the magazines forward and spread on either side of the bay's access tunnel.

Discussions had been had regarding the work force. Twelve additional Avers were recruited and quartered in the Passenger Cabins. The original Avers had quickly requisitioned the Warrants' quarters and moved in almost quicker than their access cards had been altered. Visitors were dismissed to the crew's quarters or officer country, they could sort it out among themselves. Increased workers meant the opening of the lounge kitchen and an Avers chef presented. Quasi naval discipline meant rostering for kitchen duties but they'd all been there before. Naturally the Chef was quartered in the Warrants' and no one was really surprised when a Warrants' off duty lounge developed.

The yard was now operating on a three shifts a day on a full week basis. Much work was directed at GmBH partly because of their being able to hire Avers and it did cause some ill feeling that no other yard could head hunt any Avers despite some extremely lucrative offers being made.

McCock had ordered, through Rowan, four fission pile power plants, two inertial compensators and two sets of alpha and beta modes of appropriate size; he intended to make two prototypes. For tender he selected a folding wing cutter / lifeboat of proven design and already in service.

Somebody blundered. When the piles arrival direct from Renmark there were four 'tainers of them, twenty four with the two 'tainers of ICs and one of improved nodes. A small blessing was that there were sixty of each node type and not just one type. The 'tainers of ICs and of nodes were placed in B tween. The flock was staggered but Wayne went about for days chortling

"Blow a prototype or two. Let's have our own fleet."

After removing two piles and storing them in A tween, the containers of piles were sealed and seamed to the outside forward bulkhead of the engine space. They were fitted with proximity alarms and added surveillance provided.

The Flock never did hear how that lot was paid for.

The heavier Armoralloy plates and ceramic composite plates arrived and were located between B hold and the yard outer wall secured inside temporary fencing.

"What happened to the racing yacht you were constructing in B hold?"

"Oh that? We sold it to an old eccentric out of Settlement. We are about to start on a custom yacht now. Space going."

That little deception actually made things harder for the Flock. As a result of the intense pressure from interested parties, A hold was used to build yachts to plans provided by the customer of tried and proven models. It was a tidy earner for GmBH.



-------

Chapter 43



The political relationship with Harbouria was further deteriorating; border clashes were more frequent and hotting up, Raffles and Armageddon had made the lead news for several days. The Admiralty ordered all vessels to a higher state of readiness and authorized Captains who found themselves in space with a Harbourite to raise full shields with weapons hot. Parliament seemed finally to be getting the message. The Reserve was activated and crews brought to war levels. The major yards went to two shift days for the full week.

At GmBH after discussion with Wayne a further twelve Avers were brought in with arrangements to continue fly in fly out to maintain adequate rest cycles. Wayne had rather delicately pointed out to McCock that most of the Avers were "old codgers"; many of them had been 'lifers' in RMN. Having learnt something about discretion, McCock had stressed the need to maintain standards as well as efficiency as his reasons for the strict roster. It was of great advantage that there were many more Avers than GmBH could utilize and they appeared disinclined to work for any one else. GmBH was a privately owned company with McCock previously holding sixteen shares and the Flock holding one each.

Who knew? Perhaps they had shares in GmBH yard. GmBH yard was privately owned and there was no share register available for scrutiny. Had it been available, an investigator would have found two trusts among the share holders of GmBH yard. Immediately McCock was told he actually owned the yard, he had MFH investigate the situation. Bollard Shipping Line had transferred title of the yard to the current regular full time service members of G.D.F. Upon receipt of affidavits from Grenoble government – in- exile and the Grenoble Military Secretary, the Companies' Register was notified that the Managing Director, being the solitary member of GDF was one Hezbediah Matthius Samuel McCock whose business address for service was GmBH with MFH as his agent. McCock had called a special general meeting of both entities for the purpose of merging and amending the memoranda and articles of association. MFH had drawn up the documents. The two trusts were established each having as assets twenty percent of the newly merged company, GmBH, with beneficiaries the named members of the Flock (less McCock) in one and the members of the Gorgipest Avers' extended family in the other – that had been a bit difficult to word to cover the lot of them. Roderick Milligan, Silas Rowan and Sir Joshua Galbraith had agreed to be the trustees.

The creator of the trusts had not informed the beneficiaries. He later claimed it slipped out of his mind as he had other things to worry about.

That other thing was the HCL. The mock up of the various sections of the HCL were assembled in B tween and the detailed equipment and designs were finalized. With Avers providing three shifts a day and the Flock needing only to supervise, progress on the HCL was rapid.

At the same time three yachts had been completed in A hold and a fourth well on the way to completion when war was declared.

The mood in the lounge during the meals was somber and quiet. These people had had combat experience up in Paracelsia and had trained and exercised for war. There was no joyousness nor jubilation nor expectation of a short victorious war. This had been coming for decades and the family had long made the assessment that this war would be a long bloody close run thing without assurance of victory but with devastation of both people and country.

In accordance with war plans, always theoretical and not needing funds to draw up, industry was up onto a war footing but to achieve this took time. GmBH was advised that from time to time, the Navy would utilize its services. The younger of the Avers rejoined and joined the service – only the Navy of course. As manpower problems beset the Navy Yard, polite enquiries to have the older Avers move to the Navy Yard were met with equally polite refusals. GmBH was doing a lot work for the Navy and the Avers saw themselves as doing their bit; they were prepared to help the war effort but they preferred to do so with comfort. They had done their time uncomfortably and the "Trader" suited them far better than a crowded barracks at the Navy Yard, thank you. But that was in the future.

Because war had been declared, McCock decided that even for trial HCL would be armed. Cowboy was ecstatic when the point defence lasers arrived and his reaction to the CL missiles caused Slow to remark to Denny,

"What's wrong with us? Polack thinks engines are sexy. Cowboy goes orgasmic over missiles – must be something to do with penis envy."

Slow and Denny however were drooling (well, metaphorically) over the EW gem they were modifying to make the prototypes 'holes in space'. They had received four sets and as GmBH was now planning to progress to four HCL prototypes, all sets were being modified. As they worked they talked of numerous topics in a desultory fashion. One of the constant topics was a wish list, some items of which were even Tac/EW equipment. One of Slow's pet subjects was active detection; she badly desired an active system that did not broadcast to the universe the searcher's location. During her mandated rest periods when she had retired to her cabin she would let her mind niggle at this subject. Mentally she took the sets apart, put them back differently, used different frequencies modulations, carrier waves, antennas, etc. In a perverse way she enjoyed the mental exercise. She was no different to the others of the Flock; they each had their relaxing mental exercises. Polack's was trying to get more power out of the graser to make it continuous rather than rapid fire. Denny's subject was 'Mina. Cowboy divided his relaxation time between point defense and Shelly. McCock was critically emotionlessly re-examining his time with Erin; he was trying to resolve the puzzle of why she had discontinued seeing him. This was the subject which exercised his mind whilst in EVA suit at the Yacht Club. After several years with no answer he did let it go.



-------

Chapter 44



Compared with "Crawler", the HCL project was light years more complex. The hull alone was estimated at two years although this was not time which the Flock had to exclusively provide; their experience of the building and fitting out of the HAC was put to good use. There were no entrenched positions to defend; there were only open minds dedicated to solving a problem.

A major shift in approach to the building of the prototype was reached. The craft would be prefabricated and then joined. With forethought, most of the fitting out including the mounting of the power plants could be completed as a work in progress. Careful redesign of the power and control harnesses would enable the all too many junction boxes a warship of this size required for redundancy to be positioned as work in progress. Much attention was paid to potential damage to prefitted equipment that might be caused by the energy fluxes of the final bonding. This resulted in the re-positioning of equipment with the resulting modifications proved in mock ups.

In A tween there was a full scale mock-up of the HCL into which equipment sets were fitted, moved, and re-connected. Wayne Burton-Avers was kept busy with the recording of these changes and determining the structural changes required. Cowboy once described Wayne with unkempt hair circling the holo of the HCL, illuminated with that green light and muttering incantations. Wayne had defended himself by claiming that he was using a sensor probe from the black 'puter to recalibrate stresses. Shortly thereafter a warning placard was placed on the hatch to the Crew's Mess "Mad Scientist at Work". Cowboy stoutly denied any responsibility.

The power plant of the HCL had been mounted during the prefabrication and in short order the hull sections were brought together and particle bonded. The newly joined hull was then swarmed by work teams, often led by a member of the Flock, each tasked with a specific responsibility under supervision of Wayne. Careful records were kept of the progress of the work and the overall project as it developed was scrutinized by Wayne and McCock.

The hull was completed and the inner hull ceramic composite was positioned and sealed leaving exposed enviro vents and junctions boxes. Command chairs were fitted at their stations and final ergonomic assessments performed. External power was connected and preliminary testing of systems begun. Murphy was frequently beaten into submission. Finally all the static testing of systems and hull pressure and integrity was finished. Several further weeks were required for an intense physical scrutiny of everything that could physically be inspected and a tedious but necessary review of the construction record completed.

After consultation with Rowan, McCock had decided not to install the Navy tac nav 'puter for security reasons. As a tempory measure, a civilian 'puter was utilized.

Arrangements were in train to start up the pile at completion of these inspections. Rowan had made arrangements for officers from Renmark Space Navy to fire up the fission piles. He had confirmed the request and four officers were now enroute direct from Renmark. Their vessel would be met by a Navy tug from the Yard and the party transferred to "Trader" under cover of darkness. The Renmark vessel would stay in deep space.

Unkind comments about quartering the Renmarks in the crew's quarters were ignored by Sally who bunked them in the second class passenger accommodation. Upon arrival, the Renmarks were fed and given a short tour of the accommodation area. Their circadian cycles were not synchronous with "Trader's" and that had been allowed for by not starting their programme until a day later.

Rowan had precipitated some dissension by bringing in 'outsiders' to initiate the fission piles. He caused an almighty row when the Flock were belatedly informed that named Flag Officers and senior engineers from the Yard were to attend the process. Rowan later said that he was astonished at the amount of shouting and screaming that could be expressed in the dry jargon of official signals – but he was adamant. The Flock later (much later) grudgingly conceded his argument. The Flock had no experience in this power plant type; in fact no one in RMN had. Rowan had also bluntly stated that he wasn't having the Flock at risk.

The event became a complete carnival.

That so-called non-work day was needed. One of the fission piles had to be brought up from the 'tainers into A tween. The lounge had to be set up as a lecture theatre cum dining hall. The Chef was detailed off to cater for an additional twenty brass from the yard for four days. The Renmarks had to get the full tour of "Trader" with passes. Hugh and Wayne set up a HCL display at the end of the lecture theatre. The visitors were advised that skin suits were mandatory and that only limited accommodation was available.

The Avers had been co-opted as guides. McCock and Sally were the official welcomers and issuers of visitors' passes – to be returned please.

It was nautical twilight in morning watch when the Navy pinnace arrived passing through the outer gates to discharge a crowd of skin suited figures of all shapes and sizes. They demonstrated familiarity with zero gravity even with small back packs as they passed up to the office air lock and cycled through. As they came through, Hugh and Wayne marked them off, cutting off the greetings and surprise with

"Later,"

and waved them onto McCock and Sally for their passes – these on a neck ribbon. Guides took them to the lounge through the opened No4 air lock and they descended upon the coffee and breakfast.

At morning four, Hugh got them settled into chairs and introduced McCock as "Aggy McCock, managing director of GmBH". Rowan, thinking ahead, has given McCock a spiel simply saying that GmBH was part of Bollard Lines which had been given an R and D contract to develop and build an armed cutter under several concepts which were held tight at higher. The present project involved using a fission pile power plant which was the reason for this meeting. He then progressed to the housekeeping describing the layout of the Yard and the "Trader". While he demonstrated on a holo of the "Trader", he passed a chip around for their PDA. He detailed available accommodation. He was interrupted by a command voice, when he mentioned the Warrants' Quarters,

"Hugh! Spare?"

"Three, Admiral."

"Mine!" followed by quickly two other imposing figures standing and glaring at their fellows,

"Mine,"

"and mine",

Hugh walked over holding out his hands,

"Kits", received the back packs and handed them to a widely grinning Avers who spoke loudly to the room,

"Pushy lot. Always were as Ensigns", which brought cheerful laughs. The Avers with the kit headed off after a word from Hugh. McCock wondered what course he had missed in brevity of speech; then onto Passenger Cabins and Crew Quarters. He then covered exits safety and emergency procedures.

McCock amended the planned programme, informed the group they'd have a short break, to sort out the remaining accommodation and the guides would take them in B hold for an outer tour of the project. Wayne cornered him as the party broke up, McCock explained,

"The Renmarks know what we are up to; this lot are as inquisitive as alley cats and you can see them speculating now. I don't put a stop to it they chatter back at the yard. I tell them, cover it with Official Secrets Act and that lot will hold it very tight."

"Devious, aren't you?" remarked Wayne.

.The group made its way to B hold.

"Gentlemen. This project is covered by the Official Secrets Act. Rear Admiral Rowan did not authorize me to let you see the HCL but he did not prohibit it either. No PDA, no notes."

He then commenced a quick introduction to the concept and then went on,

"Gregor Kowalski will be very brief in Power Plant, Eric Denholt EW, Sabajhi Indira weapons and Liznargh Gort Tac Nav. No questions. We'll break for lunch, short rest and Commander Mathews will begin his presentation." He nodded to Polack and moved aside. The obvious senior officer sidled up to him, signaled person to person and exchanged cables.

"Vice Admiral Higgins," as McCock shook the proffered hand. "Need question time. Multiple subjects. Last dog?"

McCock nodded agreement, they disconnected and the Admiral rejoined the listeners.



-------

Chapter 45



Commander Mathews had given after lunch lectures in the past.

"Gentlemen, all the chairs and tables in the middle of the lounge. Now!"

"Good, now, Admiral Higgins lead your party at the double five laps around the lounge; Sir, we'll follow. That means everybody," eyeing the Flock who were edging away. The Flock actually handled the wake-up best; they did rigorous daily workouts when on "Trader".

Allowing his audience, now awake, to settle, the Commander began,

"There is no need for notes gentlemen; handouts will cover this series of lectures. This course is the one given to our engineer officers at our Academy...

When Admiral Rowan contacted us to conduct this course we were a little confused as to why come to Renmark for a basic course. Then RMN liaison officers in our branch briefed us. Not only did you not have fission, you are frightened of it. It truly took a while for this to fully permeate into our awareness. Our major concern with our power systems was what to do with our nuclear waste and how to dispose of it. The arrival and the aftermath of the Courtney negotiations introduced us to deep space and solved our problem; we direct our nuclear waste into a star's nuclear reaction where it recycles. To us reaction mass is not a factor in our navy; it was for space mariners and I admit we had a few chortles about your backwardness when Captain Cunningham requested bunkerage. We have learnt our lesson. Fission just cannot provide, weight for weight, the necessary power for large warships, CA and above. But for small ships it is ideal. Small size power plant, rapid and high acceleration and NO bunkerage – in a small ship that makes a tremendous difference...

For us, firing up a fission pile is a 'piece of cake'. We are perhaps too casual in our approach. There is potential for great damage if the pile escapes into a chain reaction – an unrestrained chain reaction...

To get into it, Lieutenant Clarson will re introduce you to the physics."

There followed a detailed summary of the chemistry and the physics of atoms at the high end of the Periodic Table. The meeting broke for dinner with the seating rearranged for meals. Admiral Higgins got the attention of the group,

"Gentlemen, unanswered questions abound regarding HCL and associated matters. Meeting here, last dog eight. Everybody!"

There was a cough from Hugh,

"Renmarks."

"Apologies, gentlemen. Please attend."

The Renmark officers had kept heir ears open and, suspecting a lively meeting, didn't need a specific invitation.

The lounge was as crowded as it would have been in its heyday. The Warrant Chef had the urns primed, loaded and ready to dispense.

Higgins took the chair, the Flock to his right and the Renmarks to his left. He exercised his privilege of rank and led with the question on every Manticorian minds,

"Aggy, justification for HCL main armament."

McCock looked absolutely startled which caused laughter from the serving officers. Such deep matters of theory were for Flag Officers and whilst Avers were interested it was as disinterested parties; they were the dirty hands end of any debate; they got the system and did the very best they could with it. Concepts and theory were where officers earned their pay. Captain Bronson, a weapons expert, snorted,

"That paper of yours – it's on the compulsory list of reading at the Crusher; papers that don't exist. Cunningham addressed Buships and tore us a wide gaping new one and covered every point you made some four or five years before. Even those who support Diana say it's an example of how to critique. Yet here you are with a hypercapable graser. Come on Aggy, give."

McCock looked about, the faces were not sullen nor antagonistic; these were open enquiring minds holding controversial matters.

"In a word, size. Energy weapons are knife range weapons and the bigger the target the bigger and more he has. "Forceful" was a CL, ten thousand tonnes, six hundred crew. That size, energy range, and no EW is going to hide you; and once you fire the grav-lance you're flashing beacons and waving flags saying here I am. A big target is not going to be destroyed no matter what happened to the Browne's flagship and it will have enough left to bite back. Take a smaller attack vessel and no one is going to send it up against a wall, but send a squadron of thirty, total crews three hundred, total tonnage thirty k tonnes, into energy range of CA's. They are a small target difficult to locate and harder to lock onto. High acceleration and manoeuvrability gets them out of energy range fast and against missiles they are nearly fireproof out of energy range. Blast open the sidewalls, pour in energy, CA destroyed and can't bite back. Even losses of twenty five percent of squadron and the HACs are ahead. A close encounter with BBs could cause triple that casualty rate but the bigboy is going to sustain heavy damage at least."

Another question, "Hypercapable?"

Wayne answered that one from the audience,

"That is a very large step forward. What the initial concept as I understood it was as Aggy was said to have described it a "mobile DN energy turret." When the chortles subsided, he continued, "the Renmark fission piles are what makes 'hyper' possible here. This present work in progress is a prototype to test the concept. Aggy and I have discussed this and we have agreed to come to no decision yet, but we both look at an independent parasite as an oxymoron. The Flock seems to have satisfied Wep Dev that a parasite HAC space vessel has a place; this point has to be proven."

"Mr Denholt, during that competition you tried to slide a line abreast battle line sideways and around and the umpires disallowed it. What were you trying to achieve and could you have done it?"...

At the end of first watch, Higgins called a halt saying there were two more nights available and please reassemble here morning six, breakfast morning four.

The next morning the Renmark team worked about a holo of the fission pile demonstrating the application of the material covered. The afternoon was filled physically examining the pile in A tween.

Third day was introduction to bringing the pile on line and followed by emergencies that could happen.

Fourth day the visitors were divided into groups and given hands on practice on the actual plant with the poles deactivated.

The last evening was spent relaxing in the lounge with more emphasis on social networking then professional matters.

After the visitors departed, the real work was begun. A simulator appeared magically out of the Renmark stores.

"The brass would have been all over this monopolizing it and you wouldn't have got a hand on it for a month. Trust me on this one," came the explanation from Lt Clarson, "We are to leave it with you."

The start up crew for the pile was two engineers correctly trained in the procedures. Each of the Flock was put into both positions while the others watched. McCock had brought Sally McGraw into the training group. The Avers whose background was engine space did some delicate rearranging of watches to kibbitz. Commander Mathews strongly suspected but chose not to make himself aware that sundry interested Avers, having filched copies of the handouts, trained in that simulator during first and middle watches as hard as he drove the Flock plus one. The simulator also had bridge crew positions enabling practice for emergencies.

After five days he pronounced himself satisfied.

The HCL's engine space had been fitted with vids to allow the firing up to be seen remotely.

A navy tug attended by an armed pinnace and of course "Offspring" took the HCL out to the PRD Zone where the little fleet was joined by the Renmark frigate. Hugh and Paul had acted as coxswain and anchor man on HCL. There were also a surprising number of crew on the Navy vessels.

The other vessels were ordered to stand off with kibitzers glued to the screens.



-------

Chapter 45



Bringing the fission pile on line for the first time was a non event. The power plant was then statically tested as provided in the manual for start up after a major shutdown. When Mathews expressed himself satisfied Paul Avers suggested moving HCL under her own power to the proposed anchorage off the moon. Giving Paul an astonished stare, he said

"There are portions, valued portions, of my anatomy which it would be painful if removed. If you think ... a small wager sir, we get a hail from "Offspring" in the next minute."

It was two minutes, thirty five seconds but only because McCock had brought "Offspring" almost alongside before hailing. Hugh and Paul to their total disgust were ordered onto "Offspring" with two of the Renmarks while the Flock came through the air lock like a herd of charging cape buffalo.

The Flock settled in, displacing Mathews and Clarson, and Sally McGraw was Chief of the Boat/Coxswain. Power from the pile was brought on line and environmental activated. While Sally ran through the manoeuvring check list, Slow established coms and fired up the temporary nav computer. Power was put onto the nodes and McCock gave the command to manoeuvring speed ahead. The only indication of movement was on the screen and the nav holo. The helm was tested and HCL answered. Course was adjusted to the anchorage and speed increased slightly.

The armed pinnace departed and if a warship could have emotions, reluctance was prominently displayed. The other vessels hove to near the moon. The Renmarks repaired aboard their frigate and the Flock bedded down in the HCL which had been victualled and supplied prior to leaving B hold. During the next days, speed trials were completed except for the maximum power run. During the speed trials Denny tested the 'hole in space' and defensive sidewalls. The frigate's detection gear in passive could not detect HCL until two third's inside energy range where as using normal defensive shield HCL only avoided detection to just inside energy range. When transitioning from 'hole in space' to defensive shields about a half second of radiation was detectable out to twice energy range. In active ranging, hole in space was as effective as on passive causing eyes on the frigate to light up. Denny then joined them and demonstrated how, when using the fact that there was a hole, to look for that specific appearance; HCL was detectable at about a third the way into energy range. Apart from that transition leakage, the operater had to be alert and experienced to achieve those results causing frowns on Renmark and RMN foreheads. Denny had 'found' several RMN officers on the Renmark.

"Just making a liaison visit to an ally." The grin on the speakers face gave the lie to that one and Denny was not going to call a frocked RMN captain on it.

Cowboy fired his point defense lasers at a target drone towed by the frigate. He expressed satisfaction. Inert missile firings brought Murphy out of his hiding place by jamming a magazine feed intermittently. McCock and Cowboy spent hours suited up observing feeds until they found a spring lock which bound during yawing movements to the left. A temporary fix – a sheet of folded silicon jammed in the lock race and held there with a tied length of cable – was found and the trial satisfactorily completed.

With the frigate in company, HCL made her alpha translation and her nodes reconfigured to Warshawski sails. Higher translations to the delta band were made before McCock ordered the return to n-space. The nodes seamlessly transitioned back to impellers.

After a further as thorough check as could be made, the order was given for the maximum power run to commence. McCock had planned the run so that after turnover a more sedate deceleration would leave a low powered run of several hours to reach Gorgipest space harbour after dark with the tug handling the channel passage. At the outer harbour the armed pinnace would join and the Renmarks depart.

It was not possible for the Flock plus one not to feel exhilaration at the full surge of maximum power to just beyond the redline on the impellers; the pile would continue to provide asked power up to the point it went critical; then there would be more power than anyone would need. At coming down from maximum and then turnover there was a feeling of intense satisfaction.

The return was as planned.

HCL was berthed in B hold again and after progressing carefully through the check lists, systems were placed on standby. External power was connected with the external emergency connections and alarms for the fission pile were powered up.

The Flock collected the record chips and made their way to the accommodation area where the Avers were waiting for them. The effects of a prolonged zero gravity were immediately suffered and the Avers' help gratefully accepted. (Hugh and Paul had rotated themselves and relatives through the frigate with just this eventuality in mind.) No long stays in the fresher. Bed rest. Next day as they went through the events and reassessed the records, Avers cheerfully answered to the name of "sadist". For the next four days, the Flock were constantly supervised controlled directed and metaphorically sat upon. During this there was the contrast of rigidly programmed times of exercise with gradually increased strain and equally controlled rest. Fifth day saw them in the gym doing warm ups and progressive weight training. No contact exercise allowed; VERBOTEN; FORBIDDEN. The Flock's minor frustration at the restrictions were forgotten as the data were collated and reports of positives and the few negatives were dispatched to Rowan.

The SBA Avers were plotting. They would be seen huddling in corners and corridors going silent when the Flock appeared. They appropriated the Crew's gym. They asked for a command chair; they removed materials for making mock ups. They were seen coming and going out of HCL; McCock stood down hard on that one and only let up when reassured by Hugh that Hugh personally accompanied them.

Finally the Flock were released from thrall and they headed off to "The Green Man" for several days' social intermingling. Hugh had told McCock to go with them as the SBAs did not want McCock going off for some EVA whilst not fully recovered. The non recovery was news to McCock but he went with the flow.

'Mina was there waiting for Denny and the pair quietly wandered off. McCock joined Toby and Tony Galbraith at the bar where they had been conversing with Mine Host. Polack and Cowboy drifted off to a group at the food board. He looked around the room seeing several familiar faces who returned the salutary nod. He caught the tail of the conversation. He turned and looked at Mine Host and asked politely,

"What was that you said?"

"I'm selling up. I'm from Old Sol, country called Eire. This war is going badly for you people, Argyll, Bombay, Patrick, Valley, Millstone, Helena. I'm neutral in this. Made a lot of friends here, but it's my family here I'm worried about. If it does go truly bad for you, I'll have a place for you – probably a stone cottage surrounded by sheep but it will be safe."

Some long time, much later, on the far side of the system, a chip finally caught up with McCock from Mine Host on Old Sol confirming his offer and thanking McCock for the friendship. What Mine Host did not know was that MFH had purchased "The Green Man" for the Avers' and the Flock's trust. The catering Avers were offered employment to fit in with retirement from the Navy. There had been a surge in the number of Avers joining up and rejoining with a decrease in retirees. Their social structure was being stretched and McCock discreetly provided a touch of relief. Besides it was a very good business deal.

McCock felt happy with himself during the next week whilst planning the next sorties in HCL.

The SBA Avers had arranged a demonstration in A tween. The Flock plus one were introduced to the command chair (exercise model). The effect of prolonged zero gravity exposure during the first series of tests had delayed the programme whilst they recovered. In hindsight this should not have happened. It had been centuries since zero gravity journeys had ceased. Orbital workers did their shifts and returned to gravity dirtside or to barracks corrected to gravity. Gravity was regarded as life style and its existence (artifically) in space was taken as being there; thus no one thought to object at its absence in HCL. The adverse effects of prolonged zero gravity were buried deep in only a few minds.

When strapped in with the chair harness, there was an ingenious collection of springs and stretch cords so the occupant could exercise every muscle group. For bones there was a plate on which the occupant stood, still at his station, and would be exposed to vibration to slow down bone loss. The SBAs were adamant that this system would only decrease the rate of loss as nothing known would replace gravity. The series of activities had been entered into the positions' 'puters to come up during rest periods on a quarter screen which for tactical reasons they had to allow to be over ridden. The only real solution was to put gravity into the other prototypes and put in an exercise machine. In this prototype no more space sorties of duration more than two weeks and here is the exercise programme for you when you return – you will find that it fits in very well with your usual gym work. Thank you.

"My life was so much simpler before I met the Avers. I thank you for the days when I felt I had control over my life" moaned Cowboy.

All the Avers within hearing chorused,

"You shouldn't have joined if you cant take a joke."

During the enforced physical slowdown, the naval tactical 'puter was booted up and the most recent information required for a warship in space was loaded. The Flock plus one were instructed by some old friends from the Naval Yard who introduced them to the procedures and the information stored. The AI was activated and named "Shriek" by McCock – "what do you do when you come in contact with HCl?" Fortunately the AI didn't need a sense of humour.

War loads of missiles were loaded; that spring lock had long been remedied by Wayne and a permanent fix created. Ritual sacrifices were made and libations poured to Murphy in the Warrants' lounge. With only high levels at the Yard informed, and normal traffic clearance obtained from the harbour master, HCL with "Offspring" as guard ship moved out of the harbour.

GmBH was space testing another of their space racing yachts which their yard was able to find time to work upon between the increased commercial work and the overflow from the Navy Yards of some of the smaller contracts. At harbour mouth the weapons were brought up to standby and defence shields activated.

McCock took HCL to the hyper limit to the south east of Gorgipest and made alpha translation. They continued the testing programmes in hyperspace. Most of the testing required only the booting up of the programme and letting it run. This entailed long periods of boredom watching the screen parameters with only a few short periods of tension. The exercise programmes actually helped combat the boredom. McCock insisted that the crews' cubbies be used on a regular basis to ensure adequate sleep time – well, to make gestures towards this ideal.

The sorties were planned for a maximum of seven days, often shorter, with four rest days in the "Trader". The down time included at least one overnight at "The Green Man". The Flock plus one expressed surprise on seeing the catering Avers and their spouses undertaking the Host's role. McCock just altered his facial appearance momentarily, made one or two strange noises, continued to the bar for a beverage, onto the food board, sat at a table and enjoyed an inner satisfaction as he enjoyed his meal.

It was on one of those nights that McCock's door sounded as if it was being broken down. He heard Slow's voice but didn't understand what she was yelling. She didn't sound alarmed so McCock pulled on a robe over his briefs and opened his door to observe Slow literally bouncing up and down clapping her hands shouting with a grin which must have met at the back of her head,

"I've got it, I've got it" and repeating the bounces.

The rest of the house was awakening and heads were coming out of doors down the corridors; the Flock plus one were approaching in various stages of night attire when Sally offered her opinion while looking at the bouncing woman,

"You certainly have girl, I wish I had a bit of it myself."

McCock had been eyeing the bouncing breasts with some pleasure and asked innocently,

"Got what?"

Slow stopped bouncing and looked around, blushed deeply crimson causing Denny's comment,

"Theo should be seeing that."

Slow got a determined look on her face, pushed McCock back into his room, followed him in and called,

"Flock, everyone in here. Paper! Stylus! PDA! Anything!"

McCock pointed at the hotel's desk; standard issue throughout the universe; all hotel rooms have them; can come in various shapes but usually too small, might have means of resuscitation there on e.g. Ceylon Teas, rarely the real stuff (coffee grounds) might have means of old fashioned recording. "The Green Man" had the variety of narrow and not wide enough to spread your elbows but it had a spindly legged chair and the ancient writing materials. As usual when Slow moved the stylus across the material it did not leave a mark despite shaking it furiously. She flung it away in disgust and held her hand out imperiously. McCock, sighed, retrieved his RMN pocket notepad - one of several he acquired from Hugh – slid the stylus out of its sleeve and gave it to Slow with the comment,

"I want that back."

Slow looked at the blank wall as if gaining inspiration and began inscribing. McCock looked over her shoulder and withdrew informing the others,

"Circuits."

Denny and Cowboy moved in close. Polack mused aloud,

"The only time I saw her this excited was when she won that dinky door prize a couple of years ago."

"Is she onto something?" asked Sally.

McCock thoughtfully nodded. Sally very practically said,

"I'll organize the Avers for sustenance. Polack you get dressed. You too Sir."



-------

Chapter 46



After several hours Sally went back to her bed. McCock dozed fitfully on his bed and Polack stretched out on the carpet. Cowboy retrieved more paper from Polack's, Denny's, and his rooms. That was all used up. PDAs were booted up. Cowboy gave up after a time. McCock periodically checked on progress occasionally asking for clarification and rarely offering a suggestion which half the time was accepted; this latter was often when they were stuck and the Flock had gone into brain storming mode.

Strong sunlight was pouring through the gap in the partially closed curtains. Sally reentered and eyed the pair still at the table. She nudged the others awake and pointed then at their rooms to freshen up. Sally arranged replenishment of coffee and breakfast. This had just arrived when Slow turned to Denny,

"That should do it, I think."

Denny nodded in agreement.

"Finished?" Sally asked, "Give me those papers and lock your PDAs. Eat! How important is this?"

"Undetectable active detection."

Denny nodded confirmation. McCock said simply,

"Extremely."

"Crew Mess? Suit? Everyone eat and pack up. We'll leave in an hour. I'll alert the others" and walked out into the corridor.

Denny raised both eyebrows and looked quizically at McCock

"Makes a good XO, doesn't she?" McCock said and turned to pack.

Upon return to "Trader", McCock told his two electronics experts to move up to the first officer's cabin and organise their work. Sally was detailed with them to do the secretarial work and to keep control of their time cycles, feeding, sleeping, and exercising. McCock allowed that nature would force the two to answer its calls; but it was a close call.

With Slow and Denny in isolation, McCock decided to make several short 'hyper' runs with representatives of his Avers' workshop workmen. He left it to the original four men to organize and instruct on HCL. Hugh then called a family meeting in the lounge. They then sat down with McCock and put their plan.

The explanation came first. The Retirees were three helmsmen, five EW, five tac/nav weapons, one chef, one naval architect and the rest were engine space. The request was for four runs and that would cycle the lot through. Suit? Suits! Each group was given the lecture covering their proposed trip the day before the sortie. They were to rest up on the day of the sortie and take their places in the evening. The power barge acted as tug and the "Offspring" as tender. The engine space monitor station was over crowded; EW and Tac/nav were manned by Avers; Weapons and Power plant were well supervised; Sally was invited to be Chief of the Boat and the helmsman position taken over. There were a lot of questions and discussions except during the translations as the Avers brought themselves up to date on the modern equipment.

In return, some very practical tips were handed down – the things that never showed up in a manual and didn't seen to change with time or class of vessel. Sally was extremely pleased as her Coxswain's ticket was her second trade and her training had been basic. Her previous experience had basically consisted of ferrying herself about in a work boat running messages. Thereafter, for a little while, the groupings in the lounge were by trades and the Flock plus one were given snippets of knowledge that had been proven in service. The Avers were very good at this technique having used it on their own and been exposed to it themselves.

Slow and Denny had quickly arranged their documents and made the necessary entries in Flocks' PDAs. They were then sent into isolation again to make their modifications to the EW sets requested from the Naval Yard stores. The set was to be an additional as McCock had working proven equipment in his boat and liked it that way. While Slow and Denny were doing their work, Wayne was doing some modifications to fit the new detection equipment, to hard wire it in with separate selectors and to position the controls No one wanted to make mistakes there.

Hugh presented McCock with the reports of the Avers; HCL had no EVA suits, there was no small arms locker and that stern needed a defensive shield generator. The last one was presented as vital as half the secondary armament was there and at time of firing the after tubes the stern had to some extent be pointing at the enemy; there was minimal off bore capability in CL missiles and limited control of the missile once it left its tube. HCL was being modified as Hugh told McCock and the modifications noted for the other prototypes. They didn't get sent up to Rowan as Hugh was uncertain about the absolute need for the changes and the mods could be proven on the prototype.

The extra EW gear was fitted and statically tested. The night sortie to prove the undetectable detection gear was conducted about the local space. Having set the precedent, McCock couldn't object to supernumary Avers accompanying the Flock plus one; these were the EW Avers. McCock was not truly surprised to find an Avers helmsman aboard to salute him with a large grin. There was no notice given to the Port or Naval authorities of HCL intentions for this sortie. The Arrivals and Departures boards were noted; there were no delayed arrivals but the possibility existed of a tramp freighter translating into the n space of the harbour. The route was carefully planned to stay as far in harbour from the hyper limit as possible and to encounter as many of the approach radars as such a sortie could. The sortie departed to the south east and, out of range of the detection envelopes, went to 'hole in space' shield and doubled back around to the north west which was the direction most traffic used from and to Gorgipest.

The sortie had been planned to run into half energy range and then turn aside from the lane with the news detection gear painting the harbour. Good pictures were obtained from the passive system at this range. The result on active when Slow activated the news system was best expressed by a supernumary Aver as

"Wizard! Magic!"

All agreed but after a quick glance at the positive screen, all eyes passed to the detection levels and passive detection to judge any reaction. The comment on the lack of reaction which covered it came from Polack,

"At this range, we must be cooking their food for them."

Once back at the "Trader", the collected data was down loaded onto the "Trader's" 'puters. McCock then ordered mandatory rest for the remainder of the night. McCock had the MFH patent attorney present at the "Trader" at forenoon one, 'give the person the chance to have his morning coffee'. McCock met the attorney at No 5 air lock

"Thank you for coming at no notice. I am Aggy McCock."

"Good morning Aggy, not a problem, I am Angelina Merton, but I answer quicker to Angie." They shook hands and McCock conducted Angie to the Captain's Cabin. She looked about taking in her surroundings and thinking to herself,

'I can see a small percentage of MFH income here but not enough to explain the MD personally taking my coffee out of my mouth and literally hustling my fanny into the company shuttle with the only information that CEO McCock of GmBH had urgently wanted me- well the patent attorney.'

McCock introduced the other two occupants of the cabin who were seated at the workman like table.

"Coffee?" offered McCOck.

"Please," replied Angie, "the MD didn't give me a chance to finish mine this morning."

"I do apologise for that. The morning coffee is most essential to an effective day" came over McCock's shoulder as he busied himself with the important procedure of producing good coffee.

Angie took the opportunity to discreetly examine the others. 'Nerds. A bit older than usual but still nerds! He's one too but not so obvious. Bulbs? They're sucking their coffee out of bulbs? And that's not affectation, they are doing that so naturally. Whats... '

She took the proffered crockery from McCock,

'Monogrammed Crockery; he's using a personalized mug. These people don't give a damn who I am or where I come from.'

"Cream and sweetner" waved McCock at the silver tray on the table.

Slow's assessment of Angie was simple,

'School teacher. No, more like Headmistress of a snotty private girls' college. Tight ass.'

Denny's was more basic, 'good body'.

McCock made no assessment at all.

McCock began the conversation,

"My colleagues here have an invention which is to be patented. It is to be held under the Official Secrets Act but patented. This is not unique. We will not be able to manufacture it here in GmBH, and the Navy or Crown or whatever will tender it out or have a designated manufacturer. Here are the details of their work."

He passed across an old fashioned folder of papers.

"As you will see, this work was original and in their own hand. There will be no doubt, that they are the originators of this work." Angie looked at the duo who smiled cheerfully back at her and then to McCock, sighed softly and delicately asked,

"Just what is the relationship work wise legally between the three of you?"

McCock collected his thoughts and said carefully,

"Legally speaking, they work for GmBH of which I am the MD and I own the majority of the shares."

"You are aware that the rights to inventions accrue to the employer unless there is in place a specific agreement to the contrary?"

"There is no agreement in place but I believe that they should have financial reward for their work as well as the scientific credit!"

Angie quickly recalled what information she had on GmBH's structure and then remembered the PDA her MD had forced into her hand as she was entering the shuttle. She scrolled to the information and confirmed her recollection, nodded to herself and then looked at McCock,

"Financial reward in addition to what is now in place?"

McCock smiled slightly,

"Actually, I want them to have all the royalties."

Angie thought about that rather unusual attitude and then raised the objection which leapt up to the front of her consciousness,

"Taxation. Without an agreement, Internal Revenue will hold GmBH responsible for the tax on earnings and will examine very closely monies passed onto the inventors particularly in view of GmHB's financial structure."

Denny who had been looking increasingly puzzled, interrupted

"In addition? Financial structure?"

McCock tried to wave it off,

"It's not important, Denny, leave it!"

Slow took it up,

"Leave what? Not important? GmBH financial structure? All the Royalties to us? Not important? Aggy! GIVE! Stop squirming. GIVE!"

McCock saw that very determined look on her face, shrugged his shoulders and gave them the short version of GmBH's financial structure. Denny was stunned; if he begins drooling, thought Angie unkindly, I'll have to find his carer.

Slow's reaction was anything but, but was delayed for two seconds as it sank into her; then she went orbital.

"You!" pointing at Angie, "out! Study papers! Lounge!" and then wrenched her PDA out of its holder, viciously punched its buttons. 'That's why they make them so strong' Angie thought as she gathered her PDA and the folder. She heard Slow almost snarl behind her. "Polack, Cowboy, Hugh, George, Paul, Theo, Captain's cabin STAT!" Angie hugged the side of the stair well as another nerd rushed up past her. She passed through the door and started to turn to her right to be confronted be a charging mob of skin suited males; the leader was another nerd and the four followers were hard faced men about twice her age. She literally jumped out of the way to be disregarded by the nerd but apologized to by the others.

Angie was a bit dazed and certainly disorientated.

"Can I help you?"



-------

Chapter 47



"Can I help you?"

Angie turned to a red haired woman about her age. 'Deity. Who is she? The way she holds herself;'

"The lounge? I was told ... directed to the lounge. I believe there is be a confidential discussion and I have yet to complete my business."

"I'm Sally McGraw, dogsbody and general factotum, the lounge is over here. Coffee?"

"Angie Merton. Thank you. Both please before you ask. Have you any idea how long they'll be?"

Sally shook her head, returned to her office and returned with a mug of coffee. Angie was flicking across her PDA screens as they heard raised voices muffled by several decks. Sally remarked,

"Ah, an intense scientific discussion.", and then closed the open door leading up to the Captain's Cabin

Angie had barely taken a mouthful of coffee, when Sally went past to the air lock being joined by another of the older males. The air lock disgorged four men all in business suits. The biggest and obviously the leader shook hand with the greeting male and nodded to Sally who regally acknowledged.

"This had better be good Bert! Avers have called in a lot of favours."

"Crew's Mess Hall, Joe" and the group went off in the direction the skinsuited males had come from. Sally went back into her office. Angie was consulting her PDA on the Patent Application, cross referencing, making notes and getting immersed in her work. She barely noticed several men who entered what she realized was the kitchen and began preparing a meal but she did notice the older man who hurried into the kitchen making the statement,

"Joe's staying for lunch" and then leading the frenzied activity that announcement caused. Her stomach growled. She realized she was hungry and it was midday. She saw the business suits approaching and they were grim faced. She could almost see the thunder clouds over their heads. Sally was there and the leader stopped.

"What do you know about this?"

"I was the coxswain, Admiral."

'Coxswain? Admiral?' this gets deeper thought Angie.

Higgins looked at Angie. Sally moved to her side,

"Angie, Admiral Higgins. Admiral, this is Angie Merton. She is the patent attorney form MFH". They shook hands. The Admiral noticed the papers and reached for them,

"Don't think about it Joe," Bert stopped him and then swept the papers up and gave them to Sally,

"Purser's Safe, lass. Joe, once you get your hands on them we'll never see them again. Oh, we'd got full credit and all the royalties but you'd hold those forever."

"But I'd hold them so tightly they'd never breathe."

There was movement behind the Admiral who turned to face the skin suited figures as they emerged.

"Hugh"

"Admiral"

"You know about this?"

"When they returned".

"We never got a bloody sniff of her. We've just done a comparison of the tapes and not a trace. Your passives are good, very good, but your actives! At that range we should have got detection levels that fried the screen! Aggy."

"Hello Joe. You're staying for lunch? Good. Will somebody set up the tables. The Admiral and I on one, we have some things to talk about. Excuse me Joe; Angie, the invention is to be the DENISLOW invention. The scientific credit to these two names and the patents to be held by GmBH."

He offered the chip which she pocketed as she asked,

"They aren't going to get additional royalties?"

"Don't ask. I've got bruises all over. They've got bruises from the Avers. I've got them from both groups. You'll stay for lunch? Good. Sally will you take care of Angie. Angie anything, anything at all, you have heard or will hear today or will deduce in the future is covered and you don't really want to find out how deep it is covered by the Official Secrets Act."

Admiral Higgins gently confirmed this. The Chef appeared

"Get your lunch, you horrible lot, no one spoils my food. Hello Admiral, get moving."

"Hello Wally, I heard you were at "The Green Man.""

"That's my other job, this is the real one!"

Angie joined the Flock plus one and despite the surly faces at the start, got along famously. Angie very professionally questioned her table mates and heard basically the whole story. The only complaint was that they were legally no longer 'Navy'. They were only slightly mollified when Sally pointed out that they were in the same boat as the Avers who were legends.

The whole day was spent by the time things had finished. Angie realized that she had heard a lot more than could have been good for her. She was able to deduce that another sortie(?) was planned to test the patentable equipment and this time the Navy was to know when HCL(?) was coming.

On the short shuttle ride back to MFH, she went quickly over the events of the day, made a quick decision and commed McCock to confirm it. She was made an offer which she accepted. She commed ahead and asked the MD for an urgent meeting as soon as she returned. The MD had literally been awaiting her return.

She was shown into the MD's suite by his P.S., offered coffee which she declined giving as her excuse that she was 'coffeed out' but in truth had been thoroughly spoilt by the "Traders" brew. Angie made herself comfortable and then briefed her MD.

"GmBH have indeed developed equipment based on a patentable invention by two of their employees. I have utilised access to all the sources of which I am aware and followed nearly every link found and they all confirm the oral information which I have received today some of which I assess as being very highly placed and knowledgeable. Knowledgeable on both the scientific aspects and what is currently available or in development. I have received an offer from McCock to personally act for GmBH and he has specified and I accept as an employee of MFH. GmBH's requirements are so diverse that the talents of many specialities are required but McCock believes they should rest with one person who has the most confidential access to consult with those other talents. Having today had literally a professional lifetime of shocks I agree with him. I have been officially informed that everything I know about GmBH is covered by the Official Secrets Act and the Treasons Act, and this conversation is so covered. I shall be moving my office, and I might add, my residence to their official residence for at least six months to complete and guide through the patent application."

Angie smiled beautifully at her uncle, as her thoughts flew,

"Don't look so astonished Uncle Bertie, you can't be as astonished as I am. It just fell out. I was literally at the right place at the right time. There are some very deep wells at GmBH and I sense there are strong Crown links, probably not to Royal, but at least to Government, certainly Admiralty. We know the links to Bollard. There are some strange people at GmBH and I can't explain 'strange'. The Avers are very deep in there and that can be a sharp tool to handle. I'm very excited about this. Now Bertie, about that Senior Partnership?"

Angie did not waste any time and was settled in to "Trader" next day working hard on the Patent. She worked out of the inner Purser's Office with Sally in the anteroom.

Angie was still there when HCL was overdue, reported 'believed lost'. Several nights after she arrived she was aware that HCL had sortied for the projected harbour and port reconnaissance. The next day the Admiral and his entourage arrived and departed looking serious and not staying for lunch.

The stern generator was retrofitted and static tested.

HCL had never been on a prolonged space flight. She had never been exposed to Harbourian detection equipment. McCock proposed to make a sortie to Helena. The presence of the stranger, Angelina Merton, in their midst forced the participants of the screaming matches to limit the outbursts to 'discussions' in the Crew's Mess. McCock pulled rank and such was the nature of his personnel they took it. The risks, problems, highers' reaction had all been submitted, considered, and the decision made. There was a mutiny from the Flock; they were going; if McCock was going so were they; McCock was more valuable than they were; they were just as much Navy as he was and besides Mountserrat was their planet not his. That was a low blow, but, it worked. The Avers had a somewhat easier argument. There were five cubbies on HCL plus the Captain's. It was not possible to maintain continuous watch getting what rest you could in the command chairs. While five could man a cruising watch there was need for double numbers at action stations. McCock was forced to concede that one too.

McCock was adamant. Hugh, George, Theo, and Paul were not going. They ran the yard now, their absence would be noted and they knew everything about HCL that the Flock did. They also had the ear at the Admiralty, Red Milligan. The four took their orders and began the selection process.

Alan Avers Coxswain 2nd

Bert Avers EW

Harryoh Avers Tac Nav

Claude Avers Engineer

Colin Avers Weapons

The Avers' Family sent the EVA suits from the farm and they were refurbished, tested, and placed in HCL.

Fold down stools with restraints were fitted at the secondary positions and the duties of the positions designated. Each crewman already knew the full duties.

For a further week, intensive briefings and practices were undertaken. The crew were then stood down for two days and two nights, to sortie on the third night. Hugh had suspended work in the yard citing problems in the main dock assembly. There were; but they were fixable in an hour – if you knew where to look. The Avers descended upon HCL led by Wayne and Hugh. She was as fully inspected as she could have been without taking her apart and rebuilding. Wally personally supervised the victualling, putting in rations for four weeks. He was a pessimist.

The plan was to depart Gorgipest under own power at slow settings until clear of the port out towards the south east; clear of the port, the heading was to northeast; go to full cruising power out to the hyper limit, move up into the delta bands until Helena hyper limit, go to action stations, descend carefully going 'hole in space' as soon as sails folded, hopefully not forming a significant footprint. Lay doggo for an hour with weapons on standby and then begin the approach; the "Period" was to be powered up and active sweeps were to be made every 5 -15 minutes randomly and reactions assessed. All threat detectors and passive detection were to be monitored at all times. Reconnaissance was to take no more than 48 hours and then depart. Four days there, two at AO and four back.

The power barge pulled HCL out of B hold clear of "Trader". The rods were pulled to bring the power to the impellers and thrusters and HCL moved off at 'dead slow'. "Offspring" stood guard ship and attended HCL until she began the run to the limit. Upon the return of "Offspring" Hugh sent the sailing notice to higher. The return of acknowledgement from Admiralty higher (Sir Laurence Hernandes) brought a terse smile to Hugh's face at its brevity,

"Noted."

The mood was somber, the repairs on the dock assembly done and the yard reopened.

At tenth day, faces lengthened and silences did also.

Five days later, the overdue signal was sent.

Fourteen days later, 'overdue believed lost' was sent.

Hugh conducted the service for those in peril in space.

The mood changed to grim acceptance and the Avers began their own healing processes.

A distraught Angie notified MFH who advised not to take any action for three months; continue with Patent Application. The appointment of Hugh Avers to CEO GmBH became effective.



-------

Chapter 48



The voyage to Helena was uneventful. The time was put to good use shaking down the crew to "A" and "F" watches. Each watch rotated a member to do the mess duties for the watch.

Just before beginning translation back into n space, HCL was brought to Action Stations. McCork was in his command chair; the Flock were in their chairs; Sally was at the helm and the Avers were in their positions. Sally had attempted to change with the longer experienced Alan Avers but he had firmly refused,

"Sally, true I have more Navy time than you and more helm time in total but you have one hundred and twenty times more than I at this helm. On this boat you are the more experienced."

McCock had heard the acknowledgements and seen the green on his chair screen.

"Prepare for translation. Helm, take us down slow."

Closely watching the screen just before reaching the boundary between the alpha layer and n space McCock ordered,

"Retract sails" and allowed HCL to pass with still some momentum. The ususal wrenching was much diminished. Once through,

"Period one sweep, 'hole in space'."

Acknowledgements were made.

"Threat levels?"

"None on the board, Sir."

"Tactical, put Period on random as discussed."

"Period random programme locked in."

"Put the sweep up on the screens."

At the extreme edge of the screen depicting the effective range of Period was an outline which was familiar to them from the old maps; the yards of Helena. The hour went forever.

"Configure impellers. Ahead one quarter."

"Impellers up. Answering bells. Ahead one quarter" responded Sally.

HCL advanced. The silence on the bridge was broken only by the beep indicating Period was making another sweep. The screen map became wider and more details emerged.

"EW picking up detection signals. 'Puter suggests this could be the approach beacon. Pre war records. Suggest turning left ninety for one minute and then resume previous course. We should clear it that way."

"Helm left ninety, one minute, then resume original." The assistant helmsmen had reached for the timer and as HCL reached the new heading started it. The second count beep sounded and the same hand reached and tapped the mute button.

"Bloody noisy thing" to no one in particular.

The difference between the Flock plus one and the Avers was very evident. The Flock were tense; the Avers more relaxed, they had had more experience; this is what they had got paid for.

Each active sweep brought more information.

"Passives coming up, Sir" reported Harryoh.

"Thank you Tac."

The timer sounded and Sally put the helm over to resume original course.

Some minutes later, Slow reported,

"Passive shows vessel coming out of shadow right side orbital yards still moving to our right."

"I see it. "Shriek" identify."

When the AI responded there were some perplexed Avers – this was new. A female voice sounded over the bridge,

"No transponder. Freighter two kilotonnes. Turning away. Transponder identifies as Allman lines "Casca Dawn"."

The outline on the screen crept lower down as HCL advanced. "Shriek" came up.

"Target. 305 degree same plane, three hundred and fifty thousand clicks tracking 200 degrees. Four eighty gravs. Harbourian. Destroyers, four."

"Tactical?"

"Came from behind the planet. 'Puter shows the base over that side but lower plane. This target is planar with us. Mark it Sir?"

"Yes, designate DD. We are well inside their passive. That Allman probably doesn't have the gear but the DDs do. Despite the no reaction let the 'puter keep a watch. We could double think ourselves here so let's believe we are a hole – in – space until some one makes a move that doesn't look perfectly innocent."

More minutes passed, Slow reported

"DD on passive. Last active had them approaching half energy range."

"Helm left ninety same plane,"

Sally acknowledged.

"Tactical. Active period report on DD". Beep.

"Period indicates DD still continuing same track."

"Hummm, they go into hyper and we don't know where they are going. Doubling back? If they translate close then we have them on passive. I want more warning. Anyone have an objection they can see to increasing sweeps to random between four and seven minutes? Tactical, make it so."

Slow entered in the alterations watched by her shadow Harryoh,

"Period random sweeps between four and seven minutes intervals Sir."

...

"Lost DD on active Captain."

"Thank you; plot an orbital path for us this plane please."

"Plotted Sir."

"Enter it please and execute. Helm when the auto kicks in stand easy."

There was a slight vibration and Sally called,

"Helm indicates auto Sir, standing easy."

"I intend to make one complete orbit on this plane. I then want to rotate my planes of orbit and say use six orbits total to cover the planet. Our primary purpose is to test this boat and secondarily gather all the information that comes our way. I will not more closely investigate anything. I repeat, information comes to us passively as we swing around. Hopefully this first orbit will be uneventful. We can then go watch on, watch off with ship time afternoon eight at that point."

They swept around the planet, passing through detection levels of redline levels but not seeing any response.

"Tactical can you see any way to randomize those great circle orbits without taking a lot of additional time?"

Both TACs looked at each other and shook their heads.

"I've got first dog so I'll start the 'puter looking at it but I don't think its going to come up with something."

"If they've got us, its going to take time to get something organized and to pick up we are doing great circles. We are doing about two hourly orbits?" The TACs nodded.

"Our first responders will be the pickets. Identify them and note their responses. If anything comes up that looks like a threat take us straight out. Harryoh, you and Slow shadow for me. Don't wait for me if that happens, get us out. At orbit four and a half we'll go into action stations. We'll come tangentially off sixth without completing it and get to the hyper limit about where we came out."

The first orbit completed, the Flock stood down. McCock stayed as he wanted to see if the 'Puter came up with anything.

"Harryoh, try this, cut out two of the circular orbits and put in a couple of possible slices."

Harryoh wasn't touching the inputs when a series of lines came onto the Tac screen,

"Aggy, Nav computer came up with just that."

"Calm yourself, Harryoh. "Shriek" did you do this answer?"

"Negative."

"How come?"

"Only Nav was asked to do it so it was me doing it but only through Nav."

The men both looked at one another and shrugged.

"Harryoh, do this. Drop three of the orbits and replace with two slices. I'm going off watch call me at four and a half."

McCock unstrapped and got out of his command chair.

"The exercises and standing. Do them now one at a time. I note the screen programmes as they are set up for five person crew. Shriek, are you programmed to give audible alert on unknown or enemy contact?"

"Affirmative."

"Harryoh, you have the bridge."

"Aye Aye Captain."

The persistent buzz brought McCock up from deep sleep.

"Just passing mid fourth orbit."

"I'll be there in five. Clear."

"Captain. We can swing through this system and sling shot about the gas giant. There was a bunkerage there before Harbouria captured the system. Knowing its defences, if any, might help the Intel planning."

"What do you suggest Tac?"

Slow punched up the course onto McCock's screen,

"Come off the top of fifth here tangentially to swing about the bunkerage and sling shot to hyper limit."

"Agree. Put it into the 'puter."

"Denny, how did we go on covering Helena?"

"Very good. I think. We missed very little of the surface. We covered all of the orbitals and got good obliques beneath them. 'Puter assesses four Harbourian DN squadrons, three BC and six CA with the CL and DDs scattered about. The big boys are at the main base. One vessel of each squadron is at full shields and the other are in various levels of standby." McCock digested the information, "That's hard on the nodes." Denny responded,

"Perhaps they want to be ready to greet visitors."

They grinned at each other. The bridge was quiet and the crew seemed alert but McCock felt the slight tinge of weariness, more so of the older Avers, from the nearly seven days of watch on watch off.

"Breaking off Helena orbit now."

"Thank you.Action stations please". The recorded bugle sound came over the tannoy and the remainder of the crew turned out; weapons were brought onto line and the missiles programmes were set to receive the latest inputs from the tac 'puter.

McCock scanned the bunkerage as "Shriek" went into sling shot and was on the straight run to the hyper limit when the alarms went berserk,

"Target, zero degrees, zero degrees, fifty three thousand clicks Harbourian Battle class CA tracking one eight zero same plane. Velocity..."

"COLLISION ALARM"



-------

Chapter 49



"Target zero degrees, zero degree, fifty three thousand clicks. Harbourian Battle class CA tracking one eight zero same plane velocity..."

McCock broke over the AI responding in a manner as if he had confronted this situation a least once every day of his secure life.

"Defensive shields. Graser lock continuous fire. Missiles forward tube full salvos fire when acquired."

With only nano second delays in response, hands flashed to control panels and the coxswains moved into control positions.

"Helm stop all. Maximum reverse thrusters."

The acknowledgements came in over one another. Reversing on thrusters was not going to be of much help as space going vessels used turn over and main power to stop.

"Weps, suspend graser just before missile impact on target and recommence after."

The graser was exploding deep into the enemy hull blasting holes in the forward hammerhead destroying chase weapons, tearing internal bulkheads to crumpled rims with the armoured hull confining and concentrating the internal damage. Each blast met that much less resistance and progressed deeper into the hull. As the graser momentarily stopped, four CL missiles entered the massively holed bow with no resistance exploding in the bowels progressing deeper further in extending the damage.

The records were never able to determine whether it was the graser or a missile which reached the forward fusion battle. The heavy cruiser expanded into a boiling maelstrom of flame, light and smoke which disappeared in the same second.

The change to defensive shields came up just in time to prevent the blast from wiping HCL's hull clean.

"Cease fire" ordered McCock. The last salvo of missiles was held. The cruiser had taken over two hundred graser blasts and sixteen small but effective missiles deep inside its hull. It was over in less than half a minute. As they passed through what was left of the debris, the AI again came up,

"Target, Three four zero degrees, zero degrees. One hundred twenty one thousand clicks. Solarian freighter, tracking one eight zero, acceleration too small to calculate.

The last alarm on the freighter brought McCock back to near full awareness,

"Stop thrusters, ahead two hundred gravities. Helm steer three four zero to come alongside at five k clicks. Point defence track her. How many missiles forward?"

McCock's orders had gone over Sally's response but Cowboy's and Claude's responses came,

"PD one and three tracking."

"One load left forward. That last salvo was lost – fratricide."

""Shriek" guard frequency please."

"On"

"Solarian freighter; heave to."

Slow looked very dubious but it was Harryoh who pointed out,

"Captain, Solarian vessels are neutral and we are in Helena's n space."

That last pulled McCock back to full awareness.

"EW, Tactical, any responses?"

"My board is clear. Looking at the screen, that gas giant shadows us. If they did see that explosion it might be thought of as coming from the gas giant."

"Hold that thought Denny but don't rely on it. Tac go to continuous active on Period."

"Period continuous" responded Slow who then gave an embarrassed giggle. As the implication filtered through the minds of mere males there were a few snorts and hacks of laughter.

"That could cramp your style" earned Alan a glare from Sally.

Despite his grin McCock brought the lightening mood down to earth,

"Shriek, what's the 'Solly' doing?"

"No velocity."

"Helm come to circle her. Drop port sidewall. Full reverse thrust. Tactical will that stop us on her far side?"

"'Puter says we can. Should we, though, Captain? She's a Solly!"

"Also a blockade runner," then responding to some puzzled looks, "freighter, Helena, Harbouria outpost, CA escort."

'Deity' thought McCock, 'Hugh must be infectious.'

"Guard frequency! ... Solarian freighter stand by for boarding inspection."

There was no response.

"Alan, Colin into EVA suits please; Claude open the arms locker, Bert assist Alan and Colin."

McCock silenced Slow's facial protest,

"You are totally inexperienced in transfers." Slow returned to her screens.

HCL was coming down the 'Solly's' starboard side from the stern,

Harryoh called,

"Visual," and referred the image up to the command chair. "That's her boat bay." indicating the opened hatch.

"Zoom in please, inspect for damage." Harryoh and Slow examined their screens and reported no damage seen. The thrusters ceased and Sally called,

"Hove to."

The 'Solly's' life boat appeared to move very slowly filling the opened hatch and continuing in a slow stately progression passed through them. Slow asked pointing at the zoomed image of the lifeboat on her screen. Harryoh looked close then sat back,

"Uh, that's human pieces, probably bowel, snagged on the edge of that split. Aggy – ah, Captain, that lifeboat has suffered an explosive decompression. Oh, Theo should see this."

The last was in response to Slow going green and gagging at that piece of news. Harryoh continued,

"The lifeboat will pass ahead of us, well clear; no emergency signals, no sign of life coming up on our instruments."

"Thank you. Alan, Colin?"

"Take us in under thrusters to throwing distance of that boat bay."

Sally acknowledged and began the slow careful manoeuvring.

"Alan, Colin. Despite what I've been doing you have the absolute 'go – no go' on this. My request is that you enter the 'Solly' and go to its bridge; my knowledge of merchies is that the way will be placarded and there should be a line drawing of the interior in that boat bay; make a quick assessment that you can trim her and take her into hyper. If you do I'll closely follow. Stay in alpha hyper for thirty minutes and then drop out. If it looks good at that point we'll come alongside air lock joined. If it looks good at that point we'll further reassess with an intention of taking her into port as a prize or alternatively destroying her. I know you already know, but if we get enemy responses it is almost certain HCL will have to cut and run. Over and back in thirty minutes if you can't move her, I'll destroy her."

There was only a short hesitation,

"Colin accepts, Bert will stand by the boat bay air lock. We are on our way. Start your clock Aggy. Alan clear."

There was only a short interval before the boat bay indication showed hatches being activated. The EVA suits had been stored in lockers in the boat bay.

"Helmets up" ordered McCock dragging his skin suit helmet over his head and sealing it. The after hatch cycled and indications showed sealed again. Bert confirmed and said he would remain at the hatch until HCL got underway.

'I didn't think of that' McCock berated himself,

"Tac put the EVA on open so that Bert will know what's going on."

"EW open circuit. Grrgh" responded Slow, the last being her response to seeing the suited figures moving through the 'Solly's' hatch.

"Down, girl" from McCock to the accompaniment of quiet chuckles.

Denny came up shortly after,

"Captain, the Solly is turning slowly and bringing us toward the gas giant and planet. We are well clear of their detection ranges and the active doesn't show anything."

Alan came up before McCock could respond,

"EVA on the bridge. There is slight damage on the boat bay's hatch edge. I think they'll close but not seal. Bridge is clear. Main power is up. Impellers are on amber, I think that is standby. Main power plant controls have been remoted up here. It looks as if they just translated, started to bring up the impellers, stopped and then bailed out. I don't know if any crew are aboard but we've got atmosphere and gravity up here. Clear."

"EVA, close that boat bay if you can. I presume that inside air lock is sealed. Can you take her into hyper?"

"EVA, we can. Closing boat bay. Stand clear please, continuing turn for hyper limit."

"Cheeky bugger," muttered McCock with a grin. "Helm, half ahead and take us clear. Follow her, five k click astern of her. EW once we are clear, low level defensive shields both sides and stern, leave the bow shield down. Guns secure weapons, Bert come – oh you are here – that's what I like a subordinate with initiative."

"HCL EVA we are around, bringing up impellers."

"EW?"

"We are astern of him between her sidewall shields. He is moving ahead."

"Nav, give us clearance and then lock in the course that we remain clear as she goes into hyper and follow."

"Locked in."

"Helm stand easy and well done on that manouvering."

The 'Solly' and the trailing HCL translated into hyper where contact was re-established.

"Hoods can come down," pulling his down.

McCock then cheerily looked around,

"That was interesting but the big question is 'Now what?'"



-------

Chapter 50



"Room 3006, Admin wing, Shelly speaking, can I help you?"

The female voice came up,

"Shell! What are you doing there? Where's Marty? Doesn't matter! I'm on an open line here, is 'Scrooge' in his dungeon? I need to talk to him. We have had a very sloooow trip and he probably thinks we've gone missing."

Thoughts whirled about Shelly's head like a friendly hurricane. The bits came together in about the same time it would have taken in Silas's cortical processes; this blonde only looked like a 'ditz'.

'She's dead, no, believed lost, not dead. Yippee she's found! Yah!!'

Quickly squelching her raging curiosity, she replied in a neutral voice,

"No, he's out at present. In a conference, I think. He is in the building somewhere. Do you want me to contact him and get him to call you back? Is it urgent?"

Shelly was not telling the exact truth, she knews exactly where Silas was – to the metre, but she played along on the open line.

"Not really, but he might like to know we've just reached the southern outskirts of Settlement and we are going to be delayed by a nasty policeman who has just vectored himself onto us and he is asking all sorts of personal questions."

Shelly picked the slight emphasis on "vectored" not appreciating the significance but realized it was important.

"I'll pass the message on and get him to call you as soon as he can manage. When I see him I'll make sure he's commed you – he does tend to get distracted easily."

"Thank you Shell, hope your day doesn't go too slow"

The link was barely broken when she leapt to the intercom,

"Johnno, 3006, Stat!",

turned to the 'Dungeon's' door, got it open despite leaping around with excitement, hurtled through as Johnno came through the 3006 doorway, strode across to the desk, pulled out a draw, picked up a private com and raced back out, pausing only to say to Johnno,

"Cover for me. I'm going over to the Main Wing, Admiral's Office. Got a personal for the Boss."

Shelly had no intention of doing this by com. Her personal interest in this was her secret and she was going to get as far into this loop as she could get.

Silas was seated opposite Diana Halliday. They were enjoying a coffee pause and continuing to discus the estimates for the coming quarter. They heard raised voices in the outside office,

"That's Shell, what's she doing here? The office on fire?" identified Silas. He was out of his chair moving towards the door, to leap backwards as the double doors burst open and Shelly marched in, saw Silas and thrust his private com at him,

"Com Slow."

Silas was utterly confused. Shelly actually stamped her foot,

"Com Slow! She's on the southern outskirts of Settlement and says there's a big policeman vectored onto them."

Light seem to dawn over Silas as his consternation lifted. He booted up his com, scrolled through his menus, found the entry and started the link.

Diana's aide-de-camp, Captain Brian Briscoe, who, despite his unfortunate initials, was anything but slow and ponderous. He had been a junior commander when that tactical competition was held and he'd made it his job to identify the winners. When he became Diana's aide he was able to ferret out the Crypt had been exiled to Gorgipest. As a 'lifer' he had friends scattered throughout the Navy. One of them in the Gorgipest yards had mentioned a new company, GmBH, which was developing racing yachts. He had heard of, but no details of, a special unit down there on the HAC projects which were now in service in Q ships in Paracelsus. Then the notices that went to next of kin of the Crypt advising "overdue" which he had received from the Second Space Lord. The ends had come together at that point. Now Shelly, a ditzy blonde, but a long time hand in Rowan's office bursts through him to disturb Diana's meeting virtually ordering Rowan to 'com Slow' and talking about a 'policeman', 'outskirts' and 'vector'. As Diana's aide he made very sure that he knew everything about the Bureau, then the Yard and then the port. He knew that 119 DD Sqdn had picket duty and HMS "Vector" was part of 119.

Diana looked at Briscoe as he limped across to her desk, picking up the internal com and after referencing his PDA initiated a link. Diana raised her eyebrows at Shelly nodding at Briscoe. Shelly was standing tall looking, perhaps glaring, at Diana with an expression around her mouth which has been described as 'a cat's bum'.

"I kicked him. He wouldn't let me in so I kicked him on the shin."

Briscoe smiled embarrassedly at Diana and went back to his conversation. Diana didn't know whether to have apoplexy or hysterics.

"Slow, you should have been here days ago. Where are you now?"

"Hello, Uncle Silas. We are on the roads to Settlement just on the outskirts and there is this nasty policeman arguing about vehicle registration or something."

"Hold on someone's trying to catch my eye." He turned to Briscoe who had his com at standby.

"I've got Approach Control. HMS "Vector" has stopped a Solly who has what could be a warship as deck cargo. They are about twenty seven k clicks off, on the south eastern approach lane."

Even Shelly's eyebrows disappeared into her hair line at that information 'A 'Solly'! oooh! they do like stirring things up!', gave a nervous giggle and then remembering where she was, resumed glaring at Diana,

"Slow, I sincerely hope you will have a satisfactory explanation. No, not now. Tell your nasty policeman that someone will come over with the papers. We've just heard from the policeman. Aren't you fortunate your Uncle Silas is a traffic cop? Stay there by the roadside, we'll be out shortly. Silas clear."

Silas nodded to Briscoe who spoke into the comm. and then broke the conversation.

There were loud pauses of silence with consternation for seasoning. It was broken by Diana accusing Silas,

"GmBH is the Crypt?" Silas nodded.

"After developing the HAC's prototype, they have gone on to work on the hypercapable armed cutter?"

"Its been nicknamed 'HCL'" said Silas in confirmation.

"They go off in the prototype HCL to Helena, an enemy base, on some hare brained scheme to test some unproven equipment?"

Silas was visibly squirming but nodded.

"HCL is reported overdue and it's, what? now three, four weeks since they were due back at Gorgipest?"

Silas was trying to disappear up his own fundament in embarrassment and was waiting for the heavens to open pouring hail, thunder, and lightening over him and his carcase to then disappear to the depths of the underworld.

"Slow Gort, PO2, RMN, member of the Crypt, member of the allegedly missing GmBH team, which I might add is a considerably valued asset of this Kingdom, calls you from a Solarian freighter with a warship as deck cargo standing off the RMN orbital yard. I've got that right? What's that?"

Silas had mumbled something unintelligible and then stood straight,

"She's a PO 1. We promoted her."

Diana went on conversationally,

"There is going to be a story here, perhaps even a magnificent saga. I'm also very sure that I have been dipped deeply in the excreta yet again. There is going to be hell to pay and a horrendous diplomatic incident. But Silas, if I ever have another boy, I'll name him after you."

Her listeners were 'gobsmacked' – a wonderfully descriptive term but one which perfectly described Rowan, Briscoe and Shelly.

Diana continued,

"You have removed a tremendous load from my conscience. It's convoluted. Don't ask me to explain it but you have and I'm grateful."

Diana turned to Briscoe,

"You are still a Navy Yard Pilot, yes I know about your helping out. Good! My pinnace at the ramp ASAP. Silas, get the clearances and advise that the 'Solly' will be coming into the yard and if this leaks I'll spread-eagle the culprit over the mouth of a one point five graser. I'll give Sir Thomas a headsup. Shell, stay here...

Admiral Halliday, I have urgent need to speak with the First Space Lord ... Yes, it is important enough to break into a conference of the Navy Board ... As a matter of fact it is ideal, they can all get the news together ... Thank you Captain...

Sir Thomas, Oh dear, I can't keep this official; Tom, Aggy and the Crypt, well at least 'Slow' Gort, and I presume they are all together, are in a Solarian freighter in the Yard's roads ... Yes, you got it ... Rowan and I are making like using the pinnace... "Vector" is standing by there ... Go and get some sleep Tom, tomorrow the bucket tips so you might as well be rested ... I agree he is an interesting little fellow. Goodnight Tom."

Diana indicated to the side table to Shelly and then moved to the urn, filled a pot, collected two mugs returned to the little table, put her burdens down and sat opposite Shelly.

"Help yourself to coffee, its Sir Laurence's brew. There will be slight pause in this saga while my pinnace comes round. You don't like me. Oh Shell, please don't, I've been on the end of so much for so long I easily recognize it. Normally I am not feyed by it, but tonight I am relaxed. There has been a tremendous load removed. So what have I done to ask forgiveness for?"

It took a bit to get Shelly's story but with Diana nudging at the right moments...

"It's the Crypt. You did them wrong when they never really harmed you and Aggy was right. Silas said that you know it too. I am very annoyed for them. All of them were kind and really supportive. The others didn't put me down but I was the ditzy blonde in the office. Aggy always had a smile for me and so did Denny. Slow and I used to swap 'girl' stories crying on each others shoulders. They were nerds and I was a ditzy blonde. Polack and I used to hit off one another as friends. Cowboy and Slow really encouraged me, got me to start some courses and Cowboy really encouraged and helped me. We'd eat lunch in the Canteen wherever he was in the Crypt but he was often away. I hadn't finished all of my subjects when they just disappeared. I learnt they had been sent away because of you. I didn't think I'd ever meet up with them again so I thought the best way to remember them would be to complete my subjects, get my degree and work my way up in the Crown Service. I am now assistant to Admiral Rowan and I'm no longer the ditzy blonde. I have the Crypt to thank for that. Because of my duties I learnt a little a bit about GmBH and I'm proud of them and of what they made me."

Briscoe came in and advised the pinnace would be alongside in ten.

Diana stood and looked directly at Shelly,

"Straight, they are in very deep shit, that's a Solly and it doesn't matter how much I admire them, we are probably going to have to give them the rough end again because of diplomatic pressure – but – I'll make sure you are definitely kept in the loop this time; oh! and a word of advice; let Cowboy know how you feel and then you can get on with your life which ever way it goes. Don't die not knowing. Be off with you! BB, I'll skinny up in the pinnace, we'll still be in atmosphere."



-------

Chapter 51



It was an odd collection of people waiting in the corridor outside the conference room of the First Space Lord. All were in mess dress uniform and were lined up with most senior nearest the door down to the most junior. Vice Admiral Milligan, RMN, Rear Admiral Rowan RMN, Lt Cdr McCock GDF, Chief Yeoman Writer McGraw, Petty Officer 1st Denholt., Petty Officer 1st Gort, Petty Officer 1st Indira and Petty Officer 1st Kowalski. Polack was feeling very exposed on the end of that line. He had been the first to see the PGS move down the corridor entering doors as they came, staying inside some rooms, coming out of others as if the inspection was satisfactory and moving down towards the group. The Lieutenant leading paused as he came up to them, looked deliberately at each of them and entered the conference room. After a short interval, another party approached. It was led by a very hard looking man wearing the uniform of a PGS Major. Milligan called his party to attention and the officers saluted, the RMN with palm downward and the GDF with palm forwards. The lady wearing the full dress uniform of an RMN Admiral of the Fleet, adorned with several stars of orders and a sash of another returned the salute, politely ordering,

"Thank you, carry on please," and then entered the conference room. The officers dropped the salute and the party watched as the Prime Minister, The Treasurer and The First Lord of the Admiralty passed by. When the door closed, Milligan's party visibly relaxed.

Each had their own thoughts.

McCock remembered his absolute astonishment as Diana Halliday had come through that air lock; he was almost as astonished when she purposely walked up to him with her hand outstretched saying,

"Aggy, I was very wrong. I apologise" and shook his hand. McCock accepted the apology in the gracious manner it had been extended. As they moved up to the bridge Diana explained what she intended to do.

"Hello Alan, you are a surprise. You are Coxswain? This is Captain Briscoe. BB, this is Alan Avers, late Elizabeth's coxswain. Alan, BB is a pilot for the yard, he'll take us into the covered yard."

The Solly began moving toward the Yard.

Turning to McCock, she asked,

"Who is she and what do we know about her?"

"She the "Bonaventura", two twenty kilotonnes out of New Amsterdam, Sol, making for Nouveau Liege, Harbouria. She has two tonnes of Iridium, five hundred tonnes of neodymium and fifty thousand tonnes of titanium, the other lower holds have power plants, ICs and nodes. To fill the lower holds right off there is electronic warfare equipment. The tween decks are literally packed tight with high end luxury goods. The cargo might be worth several hundred times more than the hull. Incidentally this is only her third voyage."

"Now", said Diana, "the vital question. How did you come by her. Exact details, mind! We will probably doctor it up later but we can only do that if we have the facts as the basis."

McCock dealt with events up to facing the heavy cruiser in a few quick sentences and then gave precise details of the events thereafter. BB was trying to listen and pilot the "Bonaventura" at the same time. Alan took pity on him,

"Have a listen, Sir. I can do this in my sleep!"

BB nodded his thanks and turned most of his mind to eavesdropping and what was left to looking over Alan's shoulder.

At the end of the story, Diana smiled at him ruefully,

"And this is another fine mess you landed us in, Stanley!"

The comment broke the seriousness of the moment. BB hesitantly asked

"Why did you open fire on the cruiser?"

"Reflex. Pure bloody reflex. We had been prancing around an enemy held planet and I know I was 'toey'. He dropped out of right in front of us. No where to go. It's the worst nightmare of every merchant captain even with approach and departure lanes. The old charts hadn't shown any direct approaches to the bunkerage which is never done in the commercial world in case some clown translates too late and drops in literally. Harbourites must have changed it for military but if they did that cruiser cut it a bit fine because we were only just off in spatial terms. We were moving out to the limit and BANG there he was. AI came up immediately while I was screaming mentally we were going to collide. As soon as she said "Harbouria" I opened fire; we had the weapons hot, and when he blew I'll swear I could reach out and touch him. It was all over in seconds, that graser ripped holes in her bow and the missiles went down the holes and the graser went deeper etcetera. I didn't have time to full my pants."

"I did", came in Alan with a laugh, "Sally responded magnificently and so did the rest of the Flock."

"Sally?" asked Diana of Rowan.

"Yeoman Writer. We sent her down as a Secretary for Aggy. Her second trade is coxswain and we thought she could run about fetching and carrying in the GmBH flivver."

"Interesting place this GmBH. You must tell me more about GmBH one day. But Flock?"

McCock explained the name change of Cockeral and his Flock.

"Flock plus one," reminded Alan laughingly, "She was added when you did the first sortie in the HCL. It was only on this last one, that we got added and wasn't there some nausea over that?"

"That was planned about Sally; but how did the Avers get involved?. On sorties I mean?" asked Rowan.

McCock explained,

"Manning; that's why the HCL is a dud, Silas. We didn't have enough power to put gravity on and we only had volume for five cubicles and five command chairs. We were exhausted and beginning to suffer from zero gravity. We're got a stop gap solution on that. We got over that and sortied some more and I was forming the opinion that an independent hypercapable would not be feasible because of not enough crew. I sort of allowed Hugh to persuade me to take on an additional five and hot bunk watch on watch off. I let the Avers decide who would go; I had taken supernumeries on some of the earlier sorties so they knews the story."

"And haven't we go a story – ah well –if ever we are allowed to tell it." interrupted Alan, "Hugh nearly mutinied when Aggy told the original four that they would not be going. Aggy tried to keep the Flock off and THAT did lead to a mutiny. We got it sorted out though."

McCock continued,

"We were beginning to show the strain when that CA appeared. Even with the combat we would have been able to return to Gorgipest but it was showing that extended operations in a HHAC is a non starter. There is a minimum of about thirty crew needed and that starts the circular argument. A 'super' HAC? Yes; upgrade the parasite weapons and HCL is the basis for that, fission pile, graser, a few missiles and a bit of point defense, best possible EW suite. Hugh should have sent the drawings up. We'll have to let GmBH know, they be worried."

"Taken care of" interposed BB "I sent an FTL before we left just saying Slow had commed which is exactly true and I'll follow it up and notify everyone's safe and sound. You are aren't you?"

"Where is everyone, Aggy?" asked Diana.

"Huddling in the "Bones'" mess hall. The Flock were expecting Silas and getting a new one. The Avers aren't feyed by the prospect."

"I've probably served with all of them." sourly commented Silas.

Diana grinned evilly at her listeners,

"Let's go and give the Flock a surprise and listen to "warries" about Silas, shall we?" and waved McCock to lead on.

McCock remembered that after the Flock's profound initial shock, the next several hours had passed in the pleasant companionship of fellow veterans. The smell of shot gives common ground for fellowship.

McCock's reveries were broken by an officer opening the door.

"Admiral Milligan, Admiral Rowan, you are wanted by the Navy Board".

McCock wondered what was going on in there.

As Elizabeth III had entered the conference room, the Space Lords stood. She moved to the head of the table as the Civil Lords took their places. When they were all placed Elizabeth ordered,

"Be seated"

Seeing the Queen still standing, some of the Lords hesitated causing her to abruptly command,

"Sit."

They sat. The PGS Major might have allowed a smile to start. Elizabeth placed her hands on the table top leaning forward and looked at each of her Lords of the Admiralty and started,

"That little man outside in that fancy grey uniform is mine. Mine! He was bred, born, raised, educated on Mountserrat. He has spent his entire adult life in MY service. He might regard himself as a 'Grenob'. I might even allow the charade to officially continue but, my Lords, do not mistake me, he is mine with all the obligations that that throws upon the Crown."

She then took her seat.

"Sir Laurence, I trust you have your brew available? Good. Lets have some."

The stewards quickly brought out the urn on a small trolley, placed cups and saucers, cream and sweetners trays upon the table, filled the cups and then departed.

They tasted the brew appreciatively, while Sir Laurence grumbled to himself, 'here goes a month's supply'.

The Queen sat back and surveyed her Lords of the Navy Board.

"Let me summarise. We shall pass over the fact that a weapon system had been developed and advanced. We shall pass over the fact that my Intel weirdo's are going into paroxysms over the feed from Helena and get to the meat of our current dilemma. It appears that a warship was built on Gorgipest by a privately owned company which came into existence as a result of a black subsidy from my government. Said warship might have been ordered by my government; I say might because most unnaturally there is no written document; it might have been verbally ordered by two officers with the rank but not the authority to award such a contract even if there had been a call for tenders which there was not."

She took another taste of the coffee.

"Ahhh, that's good. This warship without any sanction, official or otherwise, proceeds to an enemy held planet. It was captained by the only permanent officer of the Grenoble Defense Force, trained at Sandhurst College, at one time seconded to my service but whose services my Navy dispensed with without notifying my government who might be embarrassed as we host the Grenoble Government – in – exile. It was manned by firstly an RMN Yeoman Writer posted to the Navy Yard at Gorgipest but seconded to a private firm which by chance built this warship. I believe she was the Coxswain? Secondly, there were four reserve PO 1s on board who had disappeared from Wep Dev some years ago where they had been involved in some important work and who in their spare time, in company with the aforementioned officer, handed some of my Navy's best tactical teams their heads in a simulator competition. By any chance do these five walk on water? No? Thirdly, the remainder of that crew consists of five retired very senior RMN NCOs with a combined service of over two hundred years and one of whom was my Coxswain on the Royal Yacht. This warship so crewed commits espionage – basically a warship in civilian clothes unowned by anybody. This warship then compounds the espionage by blowing a Harbourian Battle class heavy cruiser to space debris. Did I mention this warship sizes at about fifty two hundred tonnes. It then takes control of a Solarian freighter carrying strategic material plus a lot of other goodies. You note I say takes control not seize. There is some doubt if the crew abandoned their ship in response to a challenge from this warship and or because they feared an attack by pirates. The crew of the warship then piggyback their warship to this Solarian freighter, sail it to Mountserrat and with the direct connivance of some of my Navy's senior flag officers bring into and hide this freighter in my Navy Yard; and your dilemma is as follows – was this an act of piracy? Was this an act of war? Is the Solly a blockade runner or an innocent merchantman on legitimate business; is the Solly a prize or is it salvage?



-------

Chapter 52



"You have requested that the Lord High Admiral, that's me by Jove, chair a meeting of the Kingdom's Navy Board, that's you. The matter before the Navy Board is to make a decision concerning a Solarian freighter and suggest ways to deal with consequences of that decision...

Now I don't wish to unduly influence you but you remember my opening statement? Good. I think what occurred is that Her Majesty's Armed Cutter "Shriek" captained by Lt Cdr McCock, while on a routine patrol south east of Gorgipest captured the Solarian blockade runner, the "Bonaventura", and brought her to Admiralty Court in Settlement to be condemned as a prize...

I think my government should make the strongest protest to the Solarian Ambassador at this blatant breach of neutrality. Privately we will ask him to have the common decency to go the long way round and not cut corners into our space. We will tell him honestly what appears to have happened to the crew and give the Ambassador all our footage and any from the boat bay...

Any comments? You all agree with me? No arguments? Have you all gone jelly legged on me? Sir Thomas?"

"'Ma'am, that is basically the way your Space Lords see it"

"Prime Minister?"

"Your government thinks that is the best and most straight forward way to deal with it."

"So why did my Navy Board request this meeting? Oh silly me. I forgot. I asked my PM to request it. I want to thank my officers personally and also I want to know what you intend to do with them. On a previous occasion some of them got poorly dealt with. Oh, I agree, even without the "Bonaventura", they have done well by us but we can't be too open with our thanks or we'll tip that bucket of worms over but I am concerned with their professional futures."

Sir Thomas started,

"If the Admiralty Court condemns "Bonaventura" as a ... oh alright Ma'am," in response to a Royal Frown, "the prize money from the "Bonaventura" is of the order of five hundred mega credits, non taxable. The crew of "Shriek" is unique. Whilst having only one officer is not rare, having the rest of the crew NCOs is. CPO McGraw is carried on our books as a serving full time member, a senior NCO. The Avers are all retired Senior NCOs. The other members of the Flock are a small anomaly. They are officially only on the Reserve and they are PO 1s who are junior NCOs, that is, crew. Whilst for their contribution in this matter, it offends me professionally to hold them as mere crew, it works out financially. CPO McGraw and the five reactivated Avers share their three eighths, that is, one sixteenth and the four juniors share two eighths, that is, one sixteenth. Whilst in this situation, the Captain's full three eighths might seem disproportionate I submit, McCock proposed, planned and led the sortie and that puts him in exactly the same position as any RMN Commanding Officer sent on a patrol. That is your Space Lords' recommendation Ma'am."

"Senior officers shares? Admirals?" queried Elizabeth.

"Technically there were no senior officers Ma'am. We will submit that this exercise was covered by the verbal instructions, in the broadest sense, given by Admirals Milligan and Rowan, but from the prize money side they are in the Admiralty."

"What are you proposing to do with the crew?"

Sir Thomas looked at Sir Laurence who refused the bait and waved it back to him. Sir Thomas gave a somewhat resigned sigh,

"The Avers present no problem Ma'am. They return to the Retired Lists having completed a Reserve Training exercise," then grinned cheerfully, "with their pockets loaded and arms full. CPO McGraw; I have decided that Sir Laurence has need of a commissioned Secretary and recommend CPO McGraw be posted to Officer Training and upon completion in six months, she be commissioned Lieutenant, RMN and posted to Sir Laurence's office. The petty officers? If I had my druthers, I'd send them to the Academy; they would be quite old for that but not too old. My Civil Lords are not in agreement, too great a diplomatic public slap in the Sollies' face. I don't have an alternative because OTS is not approved either. I do not believe that leaving them as enlisted is in the best interests of the Service nor is using them at GmBH. I want them back in RMN," he shook his head and continued "but I then have a greater dilemma, even commissioned, they will be of such junior rank, they will be subject to their mental inferiors."

Elizabeth nodded gently,

"In exactly the same position as any other brilliant officer who moves more rapidly through the ranks. McCock?"

"Can I throw my hands metaphorically up into the sky Ma'am? Extremely difficult. That paper on manning and the critique of the "Forceful" concept demonstrate a brilliant mind which sees far ahead, detects problems both strategic and tactical and offers the best solution. His part in the yard simulator competition is legendary and shows brilliant tactical ability. His handling of "Shriek" at Helena confirms his tactical skills but reveal a flaw in his strategic ability. He didn't forsee the potential for detection of great circle orbits of Helena – his planning strategically was deficient. His tactical ability to handle events as they occur got him out of it. This contradiction has, since the "Bonaventura" turned up, exercised greatly the minds of your Space Lords. He was in the class after Cunningham. He is a Lt Cdr which being brutal reflects his correct level in fleet operations, and at that is possibly one level too high. The lack of space time as junior officer working his way up is the problem. He needs space time. My Civil Lords accept this but raise the same objections as for his Flock? Laurence? This is yours now!"

Sir Laurence unhappily nodded to his putative superior and turned to his Sovereign,

"Ma'am, firstly McCock is officially a Grenoble..."

Elizabeth began to glare at Sir Laurence as he went on.

" ... I agree with your holding him as a Mountserrat but our Civil Lords see potential political problems. Well that's what you pay them for. Secondly, McCock will not attain senior flag rank. We, and note I say we, have left his run too late for fleet command. Looking now at what is best for the Service, I propose a relatively extended period of space time with some combat exposure and then return him to the Admiralty as a Staff Officer. We will lose him as a tactician but he was never going to reach his potential there but we retain his strategic and planning capabilities. Also the Flock."

He paused to re order his thoughts,

"119th DD Squadron consists of five V and W class. They had been on long term loan to the Bhutes who finally downgraded them to training ships and then eventually politely returned them to us. These ships are gun heavy and have no true missiles, only energy torpedoes. We have fitted them with modern anti missile weaponry but not present generation missiles. This makes them totally unsuitable for fleet operation, but more suited to anti piracy work. Cunningham in Paracelsus with the Q ships is losing her effectiveness as the pirates are now aware of the presence of Q ships in the area. As part of RMN response to operations in that area, 119th is to be deployed there. Each vessel had need of a major overhaul and when they came out are presently reinforcing the picket here. "Vance" is the last to complete and should be ready in a week's time. There has been a slight delay because of another of Milligan / Rowan's idea – to further develop the concept of HAC multiplier effect on single warships – and we can hide "Shriek"; mount her as underway detachable deck cargo on "Vance". This enables us to rethink "Vance's" manning. Lt Cdr McCock as XO under Captain D. Gold Roper is agreeable to both ideas. Increase the Ward Room slightly; post in the Flock as Crew of "Shriek" and supernumerary on "Vance" – they get experience as junior officers. This is the tricky bit – second the Flock to Grenoble who commission them as Lieutenants and then lend them back to RMN for experience as watch officers etcetera. Meantime McCock and the Flock go on two weeks leave. Your Civil Lords grudgingly agree." finished Sir Laurence as he grinned impishly at the Baroness.

"Grenoble?" Elizabeth asked.

"I sounded out the Mil Sec and once he was satisfied, and he was, when I explained their present relationship to McCock, he drew up the papers and I have them now."

"And no doubt replenished your coffee hoard," Elizabeth nipped gently back, "you know my Household Comptroller says Thoreau denies any knowledge of any special blend! Agreed? Approved then. Next item?"

Admiral Milligan and Rowan stood rigidly at attention, fixing their gaze two feet over their seated Sovereign's head. They hadn't felt like this since Sandhurst College. Cadets up before the Commandant to answer for their transgressions. Rowan thoughts were trying to find positives; there would be too much publicity in the Navy even with a closed court martial; there's a war on and hopefully there will be a place for me even if supply at Raffles. Milligan's thoughts were simple, he just waited for the axe to fall.

The Queen began gently,

"Gentlemen, I am always grateful when my officers show initiative but sometimes enthusiasm can get out of control and we end up in the bucket. It then becomes necessary for over enthusiastic officers to receive counselling. I have already counselled a higher officer."

Yeh, Milligan thought, Diana. There was a legend in PGS that the stones of The Round Tower reverberated to the Sovereign's mood. The PGS claimed that two days after that counselling session there was still vibration. The Queen went on,

"It was her initial inappropriate reaction which precipitated these events and I do not break any confidence saying that in this company. It was your fear of her further reaction and also a laudable desire to protect your senior officer from the consequences of her action. In the process you disregarded the welfare of one of my officers, sacrificing him, in your opinion, to the best interest of the service. That point is debatable. You were junior officers relatively speaking. The choice of my Space Lords to accept your reasons is less laudable and I have so counselled them."

The First and Second Space Lords visibly grimaced at the reminder and a slight smile flicked across the face of the PGS major as he contentedly recalled the Space Lords' being reamed new ones.

"I have had a busy four days. Whilst the manner in which this matter unfolded leaves me singularly cold and unimpressed, I am in agreement with my Space Lords that as we appear to have emerged from the bucket smelling as it were of roses that my choice of either shooting you or promoting you should lean to the side of rewarding you. My next honours list will contain your rewards for meritorious service to the Crown. Relax you two, hats off and take those chairs at the end there."

As the Admirals sat, there was an exchange of greetings among the serving officers and acknowledging nods at the Civil Lords.

The Queen stood instructing her officers to remain seated. She moved to the open area at the far end of the table,

"Admiral Rowan, you will introduce my servicemen; Major, please bring them in."

The Major opened the door and stood in the corridor,

"Her Majesty wishes to speak with you," and stepped aside as McCock led his very apprehensive party in, the Major entering and closing the door behind him. McCock saluted and broke the salute when the Queen returned it. She had not removed her head gear.

"Admiral Rowan, you will introduce my servicemen."

The Queen, at each introduction, looked into their faces and politely shook their hands. She accepted the mumbled comments from the Flock plus one as if they had been gracious greetings from her most accomplished diplomats. She then stood back and addressed them,

"Ladies and gentlemen, and today I can officially thus address you; the political ramifications of the recent events prevent my giving you the public official recognition that you deserve. However I can personally give you my thanks and that is to be recorded in your service records. You are authorized to wear the stripe of my thanks. I will leave you to the mercies of my Space Lords to bring you up to date on recent events and your future. My Lords, Ladies and gentlemen I bid you Good Morrow."

The Queen nodded to her Major and departed followed by her Civil Lords.

Sir Thomas waited until the door closed, turned to the Flock plus one.

"Relax, get some coffee and join us, we have some matters to discuss. Don't look so terrified; we all just survived a meeting with Her Majesty. Oh yes, its caps in the corner!"



-------

Chapter 53



The Admiralty shuttle carried some very dazed people. McCock was least affected as he was used to wealth. He realized he had the responsibility to his colleagues to educate them in the ways of wealth and the pitfalls of its sudden acquisition. There was not the Prize Money in their pockets yet as the official Admiralty Court decision had not been handed down.

McCock pondered the situation. When the group was in their quarters, McCock having again confused officials and shared quarters with the others, he gathered them about him. He gave them a precise and concise outline of the problems to be faced but he could see it was not being recorded in the memory circuits of his listeners. He then made the announcement which did light up the consciousness.

"Over the next two weeks while you are on leave please concentrate on just one problem while you enjoy spending your accrued pay – Navy and GmBH – and don't ask me how that happened. The decision is whether or not you wish to remain in the Navy. The wealth you will have will allow you to do what ever you want to do. When you get your prize money, you would have to work hard or just be plain stupid to spend it all in a short time; you can however lose it quite quickly. I can make arrangements for MFH here in Settlement to act for you and they can advise you on possible temporary and permanent financial arrangements; I am always available for advice. Tomorrow, we can ask MFH to act for you and have Marcel Thoreau and my parents to oversight – this is the arrangement I have. Yes? Good! But! You have to decide about the Navy; you will be able to get your discharge later if you want to but it would be very difficult to rejoin once you leave.

I shall book rooms for us at the "Excelsior" here in Settlement for the last two nights of our leave. I'll get the Avers there. I at least want to farewell my shipmates properly before they return home and I wander off to Paracelsus. Then we can take it from there."

He looked at Denny's and Cowboy's reactions.

"Yes?"

Denny said,

"'Mina's here."

"That's was quick," McCock observed, "and you can't come or you want her to be there too?"

"Spend the time there with her. She'll understand the reason for the party."

"Cowboy?"

"Shelly. I don't know what I want to do." There were varied but approving responses to the news about Shelly.

McCock temporized,

"I'll book the suite for you. Go with whatever she is happy with. I'd miss you if you weren't at the last night but its not as if I'm not going to see you again but the Avers and Sally ... If you are worried about the cost if you don't use it, you can pay me back. Your petty cash will have no problem. Suit everybody?"

They broke up, collected their quite meagre belongings and went their ways.

McCock made contact with the Avers through Harryoh for the farewell party and during the course of that conversation realized the Avers didn't know about the prize money. He had got them together for a luncheon at the "Excelsior" assuring them that his pocket would easily carry the cost of entertaining friends. Their reactions surprised him.

"Prize money."

"What prize money?"

"What for?"

Until he remembered the reaction of the Flock. Despite being long term service NCOs, their attitude to prize money was that other people got that, it didn't concern them, they just got on with the job.

McCock had contacted Sir Laurence's office and after a personal meeting with him was given the information. It wasn't a breach of confidence as McCock already knew of it and knew the information of his share. The Admiralty Court had made an interim decision declaring "Bonaventura" a prize but reserving condemnation until the final value was known; that could take years but under the Court Order, distributions could be made. The reason for the Avers not knowing was simple but bureaucratic. When the "Bonaventura" berthed the Avers had happily made themselves scarce. They knew the Navy and knew its procedures for which they had a less polite description. The officials in Sir Laurence's office could only act in response to official actions, the Space Lords could discuss and give advisories – to the Flock – but the officials couldn't act until the Court made its order. Then the officials sent the notices – to Gorgipest, the official residence of those Avers. When those Avers put their relatives visiting on hold to meet McCock for a friendly lunch, McCock passed around copies of the notices. The notices being of official nature gave no unofficial estimates. In response to the rather equable almost disinterested enquiries,

"Oh how much?"

They were enjoying their lunch and they all knew that the Captain got most of it, and rightly so, McCock passed around the Navy Boards assessment. It listed the known value of the metals, then the insurance value of the luxury goods and then the listed value of the war supplies. In a footnote, the Board advised that estimate was likely to be only a fraction of the realizable value of that equipment. In a second footnote it advised that the war supplies were subject to seizure by the Crown for reasonable value. It was a multi page statement, the last page of which gave the breakdown of the shares for the crew; in the first column was the share of the calculable values. The second column for estimated share carried only question marks. Even so the minimum value of each Aver share made them double digit millionaires.

McCock was better prepared this time and the Avers were much more life experienced than the Flock. Still, a very, very, dazed lot of Avers made their way back to the countryside to continue visits to the relatives. By the time they reached the countryside they had come collectively to decisions. They didn't have anything yet so what was different. We just had an enjoyable lunch with a friend, we will continue to visit our relatives, we'll attend that break-up party with joy and some sorrow and we'll return to GmBH and get on with the job; and of course tell the "warries" about the ""Shriek" Sortie to Helena". Whatever happens after that we'll deal with it as it comes.

McCock spent his leave pleasantly with his parents who were semi retired, remaking acquaintance at the family's office, spending several days being briefed on the affairs of the company and had luncheon with Thoreau.

On the second last day of his leave he moved into the Excelsior and was standing by the Concierge's desk. Her red hair was longer and carefully coiffured to enhance her beauty. She had lost her coltishness and moved with a regal grace. The gown was elegantly simple and complimented the remembered curves. The jewellery was understatedly modest but so obviously expensively exquisite to emphasise her shape and features. Her head was slightly turned to listen to her companion on whose arm she glided.

The Concierge ruefully informed McCock,

"Out of our class, Sir, that one."

McCock looked enquiringly at him as the explanation continued,

"That's His Grace, Duke of Western Hove, and she's his RC. Rumour says the three year contract is worth a flat nine million credits. Its only her second contract but she is said to be worth every credit of it. She certainly does him proud as his hostess."

"RC?" queried McCock.

"Registered Courtesan. Rien Cockson is a very canny lady who will go far in the demimonde society of this town and I'd not be surprised if she broke into proper society – difficult from her start but if anyone can she will."

McCock didn't register much of the last of the information, woodenly following the Bell Boy to his room. He didn't reappear until the next afternoon, greeting his friends for pre dinner drinks. He partied with his friends enjoying the companionship. 'Mina who was familiar with these surroundings and wealth kept Denny on her leash. Shelly, totally out of her depth, demonstrated the "blonde" was there but the "dumb" was not. Slow smiled as Shelly took her cues from 'Mina, and kept her Cowboy on her short leash. Slow had platonically made up with her peripatetic friend and Polack was making overtures to a not quite beautiful young woman who was accompanied by a couple who were probably her parents.

The Avers and Sally simply enjoyed the companionship and conviviality with the tinge of sadness of impending farewells. The night was not young when the couples excused themselves to some gently ribald comments. McCock decided to retire also, bade his friends good night, missed the door, and walked straight into the wall. Sally, who had been watching him, was not as surprised as the others; he had put away so much alcohol that Sally thought his blood would have evaporated if it hadn't been in a sealed system. Once the group satisfied themselves that McCock wasn't physically hurt they continued the party as Sally had offered to see him to his room and said she would then turn in.

It was just dawn when Slow was on their floor. McCock's door opened and Sally stepped out in front of Slow. Both women froze. Sally looked bedraggled, her clothing looked as if it had been put on in the dark and she carried her shoes. Sally closed the door, looked for a few moments at Slow, shrugged her shoulders and then walked away from Slow to enter her own room. Slow blinked several times as Sally disappeared, turned to look at the closed door to McCock's room, shrugged her own shoulders and went to bed herself.



-------

Chapter 54



"We are as ready for deployment as we are going to be, Sir. We are tight in crew but we aren't going to get anymore. We are at peacetime establishment level and Manning bluntly state there is no more available for us. Retraining on energy torpedoes is finished but could do with some more practice. Mr Kowalski reports that he is satisfied with the system for manning "Shriek" and practice deployments have gone well. Our ward room is relatively inexperienced particularly in ship handling but there is some impressive speciality talent there. The shake down cruise has gone well and all defects have been corrected. "Vance" itself is in all respects ready for space...

Having said that, Squadron drills are deplorable and "Vance" is the main culprit. We were last out of refit and there just hasn't been enough time to bring us up to the standard of the rest of the Squadron. Commander Watson with "Victoria" has done well with the others...

Fleet evolutions fortunately do rank low. We can work up better on convoy drills real time once we begin them out of Raffles...

That's it Sir, but please reconsider Mr Denholt's and Miss Gort's request to modify our EW gear. I can personally attest to the mods, they are in "Shriek" now and were used at Helena."

"Nice try, Aggy", laughed Captain Viscount Gold Roper "but we both know that the modifications are not approved and won't be for a long time. Anyway we do have them so I am cheating the system just a bit. That raises a major problem to which I have been giving considerable thought whilst you have been doing such a splendid job getting "Vance" ready for space."

Gold Roper smiled benignly at McCock as they both knews that Gold Roper had worked him hard but had kept a close supervisory eye on his inexperienced XO, but didn't the lad learn fast!

"I want you to bring each of your Flock up to command status of "Shriek" and I want them to start training "Vance" crew members as "Shriek" crew. My aim is to have four full crews available to man "Shriek". Thank you, bye the bye, for that "Shriek" report; it was that which started me thinking about this – made me earn my pay – while you were earning yours. Firstly I don't want a depleted bridge when I deploy "Shriek" and secondly I don't want my wardroom exhausted by deployment of "Shriek". This downgrades the capability to parasite with benefits if you like and the cutter can do stints of hyper if needed. It cuts my effective crew but I'm prepared to sacrifice a gun mount to keep the scouting capability alone. I regard having a deployable gun mount as somewhat of an advantage too, being gunnery meself."

The captain passed several chips across to McCock and grinned impishly which made the recipient become very wary.

"You know, Aggy, being a peer does have some advantages. Certain of my peers were at the Navy Club the other day and we were discussing the rumours flying about a very secret group which had been exposed momentarily to the limelight and then disappeared again. No one of us knews much but things got very serious very quickly as a few pieces of knowledge and rumour were revealed. The most senior of us, to remain unnamed, took us into one of the Club's side rooms and asked everyone to spill his or her 'guts' as it were – junior first myself excused and that made a clear point. The picture even with my effort still had large holes in it but was truly fascinating. You truly must fill in those holes for me one day Aggy; I am eaten up with curiosity. I told my peers of my ideas about "Shriek" and they met with approval. One snide comment was not to be too successful or I'd keep losing the trained crew to our 'aviation wing' she called it. We were told that there is talk within the Admiralty to hive 'aviation' off the First Space Lord to be a new Fifth Space Lord department. To shorten it, I was given the chips for "Crusher" and told to have you study them. I am extending that to your Flock, Aggy. It's going to take time to cover it with your other duties but convoy duty consists of short periods of being alert during each watch and boredom the rest.

I intend to designate "Victoria" lead ship and we will conform to her which will allow us to sharpen our squadron drills. We'll deploy tomorrow forenoon four. See to it Aggy. Carry on please."

""Vance" closed up, ready to answer bells, ready in all respects for space Captain."

"Thank you XO. Mr Indira? You have the watch, take us out to our position at the tail of the squadron. Lead wants one hundred gravities until we reach outer harbour. Your bridge, Mr Indira."

Cowboy gave what could have been a gulp,

"Let go all lines. Retrieve and stow."

"Fore and aft starboard side thrusters half power,"

"Fore and aft starboard thrusters answer half power Sir."

The screen showed an increasing gap to the berth.

"Stop aft thruster; maneuvering speed ahead."

"Aft thruster stopped; engine room answers maneuvering."

"Vance" began to swing to port and as her impeller kicked in to move forward.

"Stop forward thrusters, Helm meet her at two nine zero up ten."

The swing stopped and the bow rose.

"Speed two hundred gravities."

"Two hundred gravities answered Sir." The forward screen showed the rest of the squadron passing in line ahead of them and just below their advance.

Cowboy eyed off the ranges and angles,

"Bow down eight,"

"Bow down eight Sir,"

The squadron was now co planar.

Cowboy judged the turning distances,

"Steer two six zero, decrease to one hundred gravities, reverse thruster until one thousand clicks and then stop thrusters."

The order was acknowledged, and "Vance" slipped smoothly into position.

"Helm, follow "Washton.""

"Follow "Washton" Aye." The bridge seemed to relax; Gold Roper leaned forward in his command chair and accused,

"Cowboy, you have been practicing!" Cowboy looked at his Captain, putting on his most angelic choir boy face,

"Nobody was using the simulators, Sir. We couldn't let them go to waste."

Com broke in

""Victoria" signals Sir. Come to four hundred gravities in turn"

"Acknowledge please." The Squadron accelerated in turn; as each vessel began its increase, its stern light flashed for five seconds.

"Washton's" stern light began its flash and Cowboy punched the timer

"Helm on my mark four hundred gravities, twelve thirteen fourteen, mark!"

"Bells answer four hundred gravities."

Anticipated maneuvering completed, Cowboy gave the order,

"Coxswain hand over and stand down please. Cruising watch please."

"Aye aye Sir," coxswain acknowledged and a junior helmsman took his place. The bridge population thinned as the vessel stood down form departure to cruise watch.

"Mr Indira, well done. I'll be in my cabin" and Gold Roper left the Bridge causing Cowboy to give a sigh of relief.

"Captain on the Bridge"

""Vance" closed up for translation, Coxswain on the helm. Ready to answer bells Sir."

"Thank you, Miss Gort," Gold Roper settled himself in his command chair, "You have the bridge."

Slow stared at him and visibly gulped at which Gold Roper cracked a wide cheerful smile.

Slow turned back to her screens.

"Helm follow "Washton" into the outbound lane. Engine room we are number twelve on the lane."

Polack was being given his workout. His voice replied

"Number twelve aye."

The stern lights on "Washton" began their flash just as "Vance" completed her turn in the lane.

"Reverse thrust half power, decrease to twenty gravities."

Slow looked at the screen.

"Stop reverse thrust."

"Vance" slid along the lane gently following its leader.

When their position dropped to three, she called,

"Engine room rig forward sail on my mark. Five four three two one. Mark! Rig after sail Mark!"

The nausea of translation coiled Slow's entrails as the Coxswain spoke,

"Translation complete, Ma'am."

"Thank you helm, engine room rig sails four hundred gravities, Helm follow our leader. Stand down from translation. Hyper watch. Thank you, Coxswain."

"I have the Bridge, Miss Gort."

"Captain has the Bridge", acknowledged Slow with a slight frown on her face. Gold Roper explained softly,

"The first time you command a translation plus the nausea of it leaves an officer feeling somewhat unpleasant. My first was most embarrassing. I spent fifteen minutes inspecting the contents of my stomach in the bridge bucket. Mind you I hadn't done myself any favours by dining well at the end of previous watch. You have been properly advised by Aggy. You might feel a need to relax a little and besides I've got to keep my hand in" with the impish smile they were becoming familiar with.



-------

Chapter 55



119 Squadron undertook fleet evolutions as they escorted the convoy out into Paracelsus often using the merchantmen as simulated enemy. As the convoy broke up, ships of the squadron deployed as escorts. This was the most dangerous time; it was rare at this time for a merchantman to travel by itself but it did happen and there were losses. The escorts would be on their own with several merchantmen in company and this was a juicy target; take out the escort and here were three or so fat lumbering targets.

"Vance" had escorted two merchantmen to Comalee and was retracing her path with three other merchantmen. They were to rendezvous with further escorts and merchantmen and finally to Raffles.

Gold Roper had had "Shriek" undertaking forward scouting patrols taking advantage of her six hundred gravities and bunkerless fission pile. McCock had to gently point out to his Captain that, even though "Shriek" did not require reaction mass, it was subject to maintenance and being new build only helped so far. McCock had had a flight profile drawn up for "Shriek" to allow the accumulating hours for maintenance to create a cycle which ended on return to Raffles. During that stop-over the planned maintenance could be undertaken. He acknowledged to Gold Roper that he had made a ten percent allowance for combat and it was the error of this margin that had made the XO raise the matter with his Captain.

Gold Roper had trialled "Shriek's" hole in space shield with passive and a very short active burst outside Comalee which any pirate in the area would already know was the destination. They were expecting to rendezvous with "Washton" and two merchantmen. Leaving his XO in command of "Vance" Gold Roper joined "Shriek" as an observer. The crew of "Shriek" was of personnel newly trained on the outward voyage; one of the reasons he had been pushing them hard with his new toy. Denny was the commander. Gold Roper wanted to see Period used. He had "Shriek" stand out in the direction "Washton" was expected and requested Denny to bring Period on line. "Vance" confirmed no threat detection levels. "Vance" and her two were neatly painted at seven hundred and fifty thousand clicks. "Shriek" shadowed their packet travelling at convoy speed while "Vance" manoeuvred to cover as much space economically as she could.

"Target", reported EW, "one one zero, zero four zero, one point five mega clicks, unidentified intermittent. Can't really get a lock on them Sir".

Denny responded,

"Designate target as A",

Target A appears to be tracking three zero zero degrees two hundred and fifty gravities.

Two hours passed.

"Target A has firmed up at one mega click. Tentatively identified as "Washton" plus three merchantmen."

"Target one four zero, zero four zero, one point two mega click, tracking zero one zero, four hundred thirty gravities, unidentified, about eight thousand tonnes."

"Hum" mused Gold Roper, "marvellous little toy you've got Mr Denholt."

"Designate new target B" ordered Denny ""Shriek" what identification target B?"

Gold Roper looked at Denny as if he was growing a new head and then looked as if he was when AI answered,

"Morgue file suggests Paracelsian CL class "Bornholm". Last one broken up thirty four years ago."

Gold Roper expostulated,

"Denny, your lot never mentioned a vocal AI."

"Shriek" answered,

"Not asked."

Denny just looked at his Captain and shrugged with a flick of his eyebrows.

"Sirs," EW looked from one to the other, "I'm getting some thing behind Target A."

Gold Roper said to Denny,

"I'll hold our little discussion over until we get back to "Vance". Now what's your assessment here."

"EW, designate trailer C. B is a pirate CL and C is something too light to get into a fight, possibility C is a solo merchie. CL is heading off our convoy whether he actually intends to fight the escort I don't know but even a CL would think hard before taking on an RMN DD. Nobody knows we are out here. "Vance" knows our rough position. Suggest you tight com "Vance" to bring him up to date. We transmit well out of arc of B and if B detects "Vance" "Washton" encrypted bursts he could believe they are convoy packets intending to join up. I suggest you bring "Vance" and "Washton" to most rapid join up course, say "Vance" to turn in company to one three zero and "Washton" in company left thirty degrees. We try to head off B by coming to one three five, zero five zero, five hundred gravities and see what happens with C. "Washton" to fade to left rear of his packet."

"Good" said Gold Roper, "there are too many variables. Com, whisker to "Vance" please. Nav workout best headings for "Vance" and "Washton" to join up. "Vance" Gold Roper. My squadron..." and briefed "Vance" to pass on messages from Captain D. "Washton" was ordered to challenge B as soon as he appeared on passive and to initiate full EW.

Target C was unchanged and maintained her original heading.

Target B continued to close on "Washton" in silence. "Washton" held her position covering her convoy.

"Washton" challenged with threat of lethal force. Target B continued to close on "Washton". Well outside energy range target B fired a missile salvo at "Washton".

""Shriek", identify missiles and risk" Denny asked.

"Consistent with Bornholm class. No risk against up-dated shields."

Gold Roper assessed the plot

"B knows "Washton" has no missiles and must be hoping for the Golden BB. Don't know that one, eh, Denny? I'll explain it later. Your extreme graser range is fifty thousand clicks? We've set up to a down the throat. Denny you take her and open fire spot on the fifty and hold the button down. Helm get ready for some very evasive action. It is still your boat Mr Denholt."

Denny manoeuvred "Shriek" and watched the range unwind like a clock overdosed on adrenaline. Main gun had been primed at one hundred k clicks and was ready. At fifty one k clicks Denny ordered,

"Grazer continuous fire! Bow generator up ... Defensive shields. Missiles two salvos! Just before missile strike hold the graser and then recommence."

The graser missile salvo graser was enough. The second missile salvo fratricided in the expanding fireball of the CL.

"Shriek" then identified target C as an Amiranti coaster who went unsuspectingly on her way.

At Raffles, the Captains repaired on board "Vance" to get the report of the recent engagement and to bring up any other matters. As was traditional the executive officer of the flagship attended. Over standard Navy brew the action was dissected. The ongoing problem of not having missiles was discussed. None of the Captains were enthused about the prospect of being under unanswered missile fire whilst trying to manouver to energy torpedo range. Certainly any pirate had to close if they wanted their prizes but sooner or later a pirate was going to get lucky and put an escort out of it. Gold Roper had explained what a 'Golden B B' was and had even known what a bee-bee was.

Eldred Yoncey, "Washton's" captain was telling the group,

"I had that CL on passive, his CEW wasn't very good, and I've got Aggy telling me "Shriek" is en route to assist with the boss aboard. My EW can't see them and I keep telling EW to look harder – I nearly had the Chief offer to let me try my hand – he was really pissed with me. "Washton" is getting pounded by missiles but the shields and counter missiles did their job. Where the hell is the boss? Aggy keeps giving me confirmation of what I can see on my screens and I knew he was too far out on passive to see anything. My threat detection didn't move off the bottom of the bar. I'm starting to get bloody worried I can tell you when the damn screen just about whites out momentarily,..."

"That's the change from hole – in –space to defensive shields reinforced by the bow generator" explained Aggy.

"I have a target which my EW can't identify which opens fire with a truly humungous graser, fortunately not at me, followed by two salvos of missiles and its all over. Put down your glass! Boss, this game is getting too dangerous. I want an armed cutter, yesterday. But", he ended in a childish whine, "I'll settle for the hole in space mod and whatever that detection system is the day before."

This did raise a laugh all round except that McCock didn't join in. Evan Cochrane, Viscount Gold Roper said through his laughter,

"'Dred, you do that so well but it isn't going to happen."

He looked speculatively around the table, nodded and then invited his steward to find herself something to do in the Ship's Library. As she departed, he said,

"I don't really know why I bother. She probably knows more than I do but I'll go through the motions," he returned to his Captains,

"You probably know a lot of this but I think its time to bring you up to date on "Shriek", its background and its capabilities. This is to be held tight, gentlemen. XO?"

McCock had their attention as each of them had picked up the stories. McCock stated that he and his team had been tasked to further develop an HAC into a hyper capable weapon system; the possibility arose only because of the fission pile; he described the systems in general and the problems of manning in particular. He finished,

""Shriek" is a hybrid, too much for a HAC and not enough for an independent warship. Like the legendary ship's gunner too bad for heaven and too good for hell, cursed to spend its existence wandering between the two.

"Gimme; I'll give her a home like a shot" exclaimed 'Dred Yoncey, "she'll look lovely on "Wasthton" and we'll truly look after her!"

After the laughter subsided Gold Roper became serious,

"My input here is that after Cunningham's use of the issued version of Aggy's original HAC, all the stops are out in developing an advanced HAC. There are whispers about that the "Fairpath" idea is being progressed upon or with or whatever. I have been sending reports to Milligan and Rowan", he had to explain who and what they were, "on the benefits or otherwise of having such a craft available. My intermediate opinion is I'd rather have another DD but if I can't I'll take what I can get and if "Shriek" is that 'what', so be it."

The table was quiet as they mulled over the information. Yoncey however wasn't going to let it go,

"So no "Shriek" for anyone. But! That hole in space and whatever detection system it has?"

"Those systems are unproven and not yet approved and will be years before they are in service" advised Gold Roper, "you'd least have a talk with young Evans, 'Dred, he says they've been trying to reverse engineer that hole in space box and can't." He explained as McCock turned to look at him, "Ensign Evans did his middy voyage on "Naseby" which had one of them fitted. They wouldn't let her play in the exercises because she didn't play fair. He said, "Naseby's" team, backed up by 32 Sqdn's experts, could not reverse engineer it. Says that Colin Bonder, "Naseby's" Captain, took the box with him when he was promoted out and the Tac officer went with him."

McCock looked puzzled, pulled out his com, looked at his Captain

"With your permission Sir?" and made a connection.

"On speaker, Aggy?" asked Gold Roper, and so it was.

"What's wrong now, Aggy? I've done your papers, did them yesterday." grumbled Denny with a tired voice.

"Nothing to do with the course. I have just heard that you left a hole in space box on "Naseby" and they can't reverse engineer it?"

"Not surprised" replied Denny, "that was the first and since then we ... Oh Shit! SLOW?" and the comlink went mute. Bill Dearman, "Warburton", looked vacantly at the ceiling,

"I am always filled with joy when my experts say 'Oh shit!'"



-------

Chapter 56



The Flock were in "Shriek" doing maintenance assisted by the crew of NCOs who were presently under training. The routine was broken by McCock's com. There was a whining conversation which the others were shutting out.

"Oh! Shit! SLOW?"

"Dammit! Denny, not into the com, you nearly blasted my head off" aggrievedly said Slow, "I'm sitting next to you. Ooooh what's wrong?"

As a blonde Denny had naturally a pale complexion but as he looked at Slow, he was almost transparent,

"We forgot to put the 'specs' for the "Shriek's" hole in space into the docs we gave Silas. He had the originals, the one he said the manufactures weren't interested in."

"Yeah! How much shit are we in?" asked Slow nodding at his PDA.

"Don't know," turned off the mutes, "Aggy we gotta talk."

McCock's reply was

"Wait", with a long pause, then, "Ward Room now; oh, and expect the brass."

What had happened was that McCock had turned to the Captain who had heard and their attitude was expressed by 'Dred Yoncey,

"You are not cutting us out of this. I don't know why the Navy has sent this team to this Deity forsaken exile, but I never refused any of the deplorable gifts my Great Aunt Sophie gave me as I could always find a use for them and this is far better then Great Aunt Sophie; and I want the story behind why they are here, Evan, but this first."

McCock looked at the nods of agreement and made his reply to Denny.

"Gentlemen, I extend an invitation to the Ward Room for lunch. They have prepared for you here but the Flock and you won't fit in here."

The Captains moved to the Ward Room. After discussion with Gold Roper, the other ward room officers, engineers all, were allowed to stay. The Stewards put out the sideboards and departed. The Master – at – Arms secured the companion way. McCock as President of the Mess instructed, "Please get your food and then find a place to sit. Take the chairs away form the lounge side of the table and the Flock will sit on the other side as they will be the centre of our attention. Denny you can starve for the time being while you explain."

Denny explained abut the failure to put 'hole – in – space' Mark 2 on the "Shreik's" construction record saying that he had been influenced and discouraged by the original reaction which McCock had to expand. He also said that later while working on Period's patents, he'd briefly looked at it but put it aside. Denny told the story of "Naseby" and went on about the reverse engineering. Slow chortled when he started on the construction of the little box; they had taken a commercial chip which was used to even out harmonics in transmissions and had deliberately shorted out two adjacent strips which would normally junk the chip. It needed X-ray magnification to see and do and this wasn't available outside either a major manufacturing facility or a research laboratory. Hole – in- space mark2 was simpler but still required a high level research facility, and of course, certain chips. There was silence about the Ward Room as food was eaten and information was digested.

No one noticed the Second Engineer nudge the Chief and whisper in his ear. They looked at each other, seemed to come to an agreement and the Second moved to the Ward Room com and had a quiet brief conversation. His face broke out into a big smile as he nodded to the Chief.

"Ah! Gentlemen? Would a small electron microscope help? We have one in the impeller room. Seems when the Bhutes had "Vance" as a training ship, they also used her as a school,"

Very intense eyes turned to Denny, who mumbled

"The chips?"

Yoncey snorted,

"We're only two days from Mountserrat here and a miracle could happen and there are chips in this backwater; Wormhole Control is here and there are some other facilities."

Gold Roper rejoined,

"'Dred, I have to keep reminding you, this is unproved and not approved. We don't really know what happens under all circumstances and with time."

"Evan, you weren't the one being pounded with missiles; you were out there doing a damned good job of orchestrating but you were invisible. I was the one being pounded and that focused my attention wonderfully. Next time we swap!"

"Evan, the lad has a point" joined in Brian Wallace, ""Shriek" used it here. "Nasby's" used it to the point her squadron mates won't let her play on exercise with them and this is for real here. You ran it for real first time here."

He glanced at and then looked again at the Flock who were looking everywhere but at him,

"Where?" he snapped. McCock looked at Gold Roper who shrugged helplessly. McCock said flatly,

"Helena. We spent nearly two days there. We think we weren't detected."

"You spent two days at Helena. And no one shot at you?"

The Flock were visibly squirming on their seats.

"No," said McCock, po faced, but truthfully, "no one shot at us."

Those DD Captains had been around the traps before and they knew when the facts were being clutched tightly. Jim Brownleigh, "Vector",

"No one shot at you? But something happened before you swanned off? What?"

McCock gave up,

"We took out a Battle class CA, Intel thinks it was "Bastogne", and then we took a blockade runner. A Solly."

There was a stunned silence which lasted for nearly a minute before Brownleigh broke it softly,

"You are lucky you got sent out here and not buried fire hundred metres beneath the Admiralty."

'Dred Yoncey broke it up, he was frustrated and getting annoyed with his Captain DD,

"The 'hole – in – space' mod is combat tested and that's it. My order is in and I'm going to make a continual nuisance until I get one. They've just told us the kit can be 'home made' and I've got a wonderful home for a set the day before yesterday. We all know we are going to be out here for a long time and that we are not at good odds to survive. I want every edge I can have and I'll take a few risks to have that edge. Now that detection gear?"

McCock explained,

"It's under Crown patent by now. Slow, Denny, have you still got it on your PDA? Good. We will need a Rockwell–Henry Type 72 and their type 14 arrays. We can fit them with current resources. Slow and Denny will need a few other supplies to make the mods but we will have to prise the sets out of the Admiralty and that equipment is not on our TO&E. Putting in a justification will expose the Crown patent and that will draw our Masters' attentions which I submit is undesirable."

Captain Evan Cochrane, Viscount Gold Roper, knew when he was beaten.

"Denny, dirtside please, and see if you can find any chips. Slow, will you look at the set on "Vance" and see if and what needs to be done? Consult with Chief Engineer and check out that school room. Also Slow, an exact list for what you need. You other three help them. I have a contact who should be able to help. Anything else before I go and get something to settle my food? 'Dred, what now?"

"Denny" enquired Dred "that graser on "Shreik". It looked as if it was firing continuously?"

"Its not really, it just appears that way. Cowboy and Polack got at it. Its repetition rate is increased and that pair also did something about the heat and energy loss. Works like a charm though, doesn't it?" said a grinning Denny only too pleased to shift attention elsewhere.

"Clever little fellows aren't you?"

The next few days were hectic. Bunkering. Victualling. Maintenance and repairs. Assembling the convoy. Meeting with the Merchantman's Masters and Navigators. Denny had found three of the chips in the Wormhole Control workshop. There had been five but Wormhole Control drew the line at leaving themselves without spares.

The convoy sailed and the whole voyage out and back was uneventful for the Squadron as a whole. For Denny and Slow it was exhausting on the way out. They had completed and static tested two of the boxes before the convoy broke up. Denny plus box went with "Victoria" and Slow with the other box went to "Washton". Denny happily bunked in the Petty Officers mess. 'Dred Yoncey turfed his First Lieutenant out of his cabin, took it for himself and ensconced Lieutenant LA Gort, GDF, in his own cabin. 'Dred treated Slow like visiting royalty and when he explained to his officers the purpose of her visit, so did they. As 'Dred put it,

"That young lady has just improved the odds of my surviving out here threefold and this is the least I can do to show my gratitude."

On the way back Slow relaxed and enjoyed herself.

Upon rejoining 119 DD Squadron practiced evolutions. "Shriek" training was put on hold as the Flock instructed EW on how to detect a vessel as a hole-in-space. The instruction also improved the skills of passive detection on the usual EW systems encountered – 'don't just look for what is there, look also for what is not there'. Drills were set up to keep up skills foreshadowing the fitting of a Period which would easily make EW personal lazy.

The Flock felt run ragged upon return to Raffles, where an inordinately cheerful Gold Roper sent Cowboy dirtside as soon as the squadron hove to.

Convoys pretty much keep to schedules. So therefore do their escorts. Coordination of convoys begins a long way and a long time from their gathering points. Meetings have to be held between shipping line controllers, Wormhole Control, and Admiralty staff to ensure that a certain vessel will be at a given point to be met by a certain escort. Maintenance schedules must be considered and yards as appropriate booked. Provision is made for emergencies and procedures become established over a time. There has to be an erratic and not predictable flow of events to make it difficult for the other side to predict events for to destroy commerce does cause disruption to war efforts. The procedures are the same when dealing with persistent nests of piracy and Paracelsus was a running sore for commerce.

Thus it was, that persons who could be trusted to hold such information could use it in some strange ways. Diana Halliday had no need to know about Paracelsian convoys, but being a respected Flag Officer she was able to obtain, discreetly, certain information. She did this personally. There were many returned and Reserve Naval Officers who had served with Diana and were now on Merchantmen. A quiet word and a polite blonde lady was tucked away in a cabin for the day and a half's trip to Raffles where Wormhole Control would entertain her until her lover, mate, boyfriend, or whatever, an officer on 119 DD Squadron, arrived. It was rare that there was a delay more than a day because after all, there was a schedule.

Cowboy returned just before departure time to some gentle leg pulling by his friends and only some envy because the lower ranks' attitude was if you have money and friends you are a mug if you don't use them. The story of the Solarian freighter had got around. The estimates of Cowboy's wealth were spread across a wide spectrum – some of them were even near the mark.

Over the next two voyages 119 was fitted with hole in space screens and it was only fitting that "Washton" scored first blood or rather second blood. The outbound convoy from Raffles had reached the dispersal point. "Washton" was escorting a six fifty kilo tonne freighter, "Venture Boy" en route to an agricultural planet with a load of agricultural machinery, genetic seeds and fertilizer; a load easily disposed of by pirates because of a ready market. "Washton" was trailing the freighter who had not been informed of her escort. EW reported a bogey approaching under moderately effective EW from the zero six zero.

The bogey was on a course to pass close to the freighter.

"EW, how far off is he?" Yoncey asked.

"Three hundred and thirty three kay klicks, Sir, and he's making four hundred gravities. Destroyer size."

"Tac, he looks as if he is going down the starboard side, but he's too fast. I think he is going to go past "Venture Boy", order her to heave to. Probably put a shot across her bows as he turns over and then come back."

"That fits, Sir."

"Take us down the port side, make sure we are not near a shot across the bows, that would spoil my day, allow him to go past us as he decelerates, and we'll see him on the way back."

The pirate's instruction to heave to with the usual threats and promises were recorded for "Washton's" log as was the explosion in front of the "Venture Boy" as the pirate turned over. EW reported,

"Looks like a big destroyer, Sir. Can't identify any better than that."

As the bogey went past "Washton" decelerating hard, Youncey ordered

"Action Stations, please."

The bugles sounded through the ship as the crew moved rapidly to their posts.

"Tac, bring us across his bows at twentyfive thousand klicks. Guns, yours on the starboard side but we'll keep everyone closed up."

His First Lieutenant moved to his Captain's side,

"You are going to call on him to surrender, Sir?"

"No, Number One. He has identified himself and his intentions. I am not putting the ship at risk from a mistaken sense of chivalry. Tac, where is that freighter?"

"Hove to off our port side now and the crew are abandoning in the lifeboats."

"Damn! I'll have to round them up afterwards. Bring us around just a touch more please and decrease our velocity about ten percent. The turn and the decrease should put us ... yes! Nicely done, Tac. Guns, as you bear, please. Defensive shields."

Several moments passed. Guns ordered

"Lock on! Sequence firing. Commence firing."

The ripple of gun mounts' firing was felt through the seats of the command chairs and the disintegration of their target flared briefly on the screens. Youncey ordered

"Stand down from Action Stations. Thank you, Guns. Tac, lets find those lifeboats."

It was a stern chase. "Washton" had to go to full cruising power to run them down and head them back to the freighter with only an eight hour delay. The crew was able to use the eyeball Mk1 to satisfy themselves that it was one of the RMN escorts ushering them back to the ship. There were some very shaken crewmembers who breasted the bars of their destination port.



-------

Chapter 57



The convoys went on and 119 thought of it self as being the forgotten people of the RMN. This of course was not true; transfers and replacements of personnel occurred; compassionate leaves had been granted; promotions promulgated; and repairs and maintenance were forever needed. There were from time to time side trips to the Amiranti Empire.

Commander Wallace had received his orders to take "Victoria" back to Mountserrat for refit of a fusion bottle which had become a worry to his Chief Engineer. The Squadron was to escort a convoy to Old Breslau for exchanges of cargo; "Victoria" would then independently proceed directly to Gregor and transit to Mountserrat; 119 would wait two days for the convoy and then escort it to down to Gregor. Another convoy was to be escorted to Paracelsus via Old Breslau after a four day lay over. Shelly and probably 'Mina would be in Gregor.

The convoy had not yet joined up. "Victoria" in company with "Vector" was escorting a packet of five merchantmen trundling along at two forty gravities. "Victoria" led the group and "Vector" trailed as they had done since "Vector" had joined with her two.

"Target, zero three four degrees, zero seven zero degrees, range one point two mega klicks, stationery, unidentified."

Lieutenant Carmody, First Lieutenant of "Victoria" had the watch. He scratched an imaginary itch in his left ear,

"How long have you had her?"

"About a minute now, Sir."

"I'll let the Captain know, he's up and about. Captain, Bridge, unidentified bogey starboard bow high stationery, 1.2 mega ... Sir." broke the link and told the bridge

"The Boss will be up when he has finished his breakfast."

"Captain on the bridge." Carmody vacated the commander's chair and moved to join his Captain at the larger EW screen.

"She has not moved in the forty or so minutes we have had her, Sir. I went to one minute sweeps just before you came up."

"Sir, I've just got an Amiranti transponder, "Nachtlicht", point five megatonnes, registered Breslau."

"She's moving, Sir, looks like two four zero, one three zero, yes, that's confirmed, two hundred sixty gravs. That should put her at about one twenty five kay clicks when she crosses ahead of our track."

"Sir, second target moving away from "Nachtlicht", two nine zero holding the plane, I make it four eighty grav; uummm, even if we went to full military power we'd not catch him – sorry Sir, unidentified, he looks about four kay tonnes."

"Designate "Nachtlicht" bogey 1 and the streaker bogey 2. Any chance 2 is an Amiranti? No? Ask the Convoy Commodore to increase to two eighty please. I want to be close to her when she crosses. I intend to challenge and inspect. First watch, Nav? Peter warn Mr Bracken for a boarding party with four in armour. Get everything we have on "Nachtlicht" and as much on pirates captured and handed over. A 'merchie' wont have us for a while yet. I'm acting on the belief that bogey 2 was a pirate and bogey one has just been taken. If I'm wrong then Augustus might be a bit annoyed but not too much as he doesn't like pirates either. Inform "Vector" please, she is to continue with the convoy."

"Captain, I have both a problem and a solution, both of which require your advice and counsel."

"Aggy, you know I'm full of it, and you can take that as you please. Betty, coffee for my hard worked XO. Speak to me of your troubles, my son."

"Thanks Betty, has he not been taking his meds again?"

"No, Sir, I've been putting them in his morning coffee. Yours are in your cup now, Sir, so drink it all up like a good little boy."

"Lese majeste aside, Aggy, what is it particularly?"

"Sir, you are aware that we are getting about two green replacements for every three relatively experienced people who are transferred out. So far I have managed the watch and manning bills to cover this. The real strain is the "Shriek's" training because we can only take NCOs because of the basic skills needed for that tasking. We are down to just over four hundred and thirty and our peacetime complement is five twenty. We can do quite well on anti-pirate single vessel combat but I worry about a double broadside torpedo and guns engagement.

You might not have the Flock's full history so bear with me. We all came straight from Navy schools, academy in my case, to work for then Captain Rowan. For six years we worked on decreasing manning level requirements and associated automation and miniaturization. We started on DDs and were working our way up; we had nearly completed CA and were starting on BCs when we were sent to Gorgipest. We never did any work on V&Ws. We didn't even know they existed. Over the past two weeks the Flock have gone over "Vance" from keel to truck and we estimate we can remove about one hundred and twenty positions. If we can get the equipment we will take about three months to do the job. The cost is about two to three voyages of your discretionary monies. What I propose is that Mr Kowalski and I go on leave in Old Breslau and we go to my family's agent; I remember him from my apprentice days; and purchase the items. There are no items needed which in themselves would attract attention. My family pays for it. When you come back to Old Breslau in ten days we'll have most of it and the remainder we can order for delivery in Raffles. I'll give you the accounts and in the fullness of time you reimburse me and submit the accounts through Treasury."

"Approved, Aggy. You didn't expect that did you? I had wondered what you lot were doing. I'd hear of you in some unusual places and some of the crew were beginning to believe that you had gone 'troppo'. Drink your coffee. Back at Raffles I got the news that Brian Wallace will be promoted out of "Victoria" and that Peter Carmody will get her as Lt Cdr; That is going to make you 2ic the Squadron. What I have submitted and hopefully has been approved will come through at Gregor; you go up to Commander and 2ic and XO of the Squadron; Ms Gort to XO and 1st Lt as Lt Cdr; Mr Kowalski to 2nd Engineer as Lt Cdr; Mr Denholt to EW and Navigation Officer as Lt Cdr and Mr Indira as Gunnery Tactical Officer as Lt Cdr. I am promised two j.gs and possibly two Ensigns to bring us up to complement. I have repeatedly expressed my displeasure through both official and back channels at the shabby way "Vance" has been treated with regard to its officer establishment. The Flock has literally done the work of ten and your annual reports have reflected this. Good that's done. How is the flight training coming on?"

"Captain on the bridge."

"Thank you, Peter. Yes. That look's good. He should have us on his screens now. Nav, we'll turn to be ahead of him at five thousand klicks, change shields and put a shot across his bows, challenge and order him to drop his shields. If he does we'll drop starboard shields and match velocities. Mount the boarding party please and close up four of the starboard gun mounts. Your ship Navigator. Peter, inform "Vector" of our intentions, please."

The Navigator set up his 'puters, watched as the images changed and gave the order,

"Come to two four zero degrees, decrease to two sixty gravs, defensive shields, one shot one shot only across the bows."

Guns murmured into his com as he pressed the firing button on his panel, watched as the screen flared momentarily and selected three more toggles. The fireball had appeared in front of the "Nachtlicht".

""Nachtlicht" this is HMS "Victoria". Drop your shields and we will match velocities to board and inspect you."

""Victoria" this is an Amiranti freighter; we are neutral; you have no authority to inspect us. Firing across our bow is a breach of international law and we shall protest strongly to our Charge d' affaires at Comalee on arrival there."

""Nachtlicht" drop your shields stat!"

""Victoria" No! We will not do that. We protest your high handed actions."

"Guns, quarter power, please; put four spaced shots into her screens."

The Gunnery Officer inserted a key into his panel to open a cover, removed his key from the cover, reinserted it into the inside so uncovered and turned it until a scroll bar on his screen decreased to twenty five percent, adjusted several dials and then pressed the firing button. "Nachtlicht's" shields flashed as each low power energy bolt struck. The Gunnery Officer quickly rotated his key and removed it, closing the cover, and neutralizing his dials.

""Victoria", stop firing, we'll drop our shields."

"Pinnace away, drop the starboard shield for the pinnace and then restore it after she is clear."

""Nachtlicht", our pinnace is on its way. Please co-operate and we will be able to resume our journeys as soon as the inspection is completed."

Just over twenty minutes later

""Victoria" Bracken. Pirates had taken her. Three of them were hiding in the cabins and resisted arrest. We took no casualties and captured eight. Original crew of twenty four are dead – they were put into the boat bay with cut skin suits and the bay was opened to vacuum. The pirates had hidden the bodies in a lifeboat. Orders, Sir? Over."

"Bracken, the Captain, send the pinnace back and I'll send over more crew. Once the pinnace is clear turn her about and head for the convoy. Clear"

The Captain turned to his Navigator,

"Tommy, you, four ABs and four ERAs for crew. I'll leave the armoured party on her just in case there are still some hideaways. The armour can guard the bridge and engine room, any left over can search. When the extras are aboard, have her go after the convoy at three twenty. I'll com ahead to decrease convoy speed to two forty. Off you go. Peter, bring us about, stay on this side of her, drop the port shield to let the pinnace back and out and back. We don't need the pinnace doing more than she has to."

Commander Wallace looked around for someone suitable, didn't find anyone suitable so sat himself down at the com panel.

"Tum te tum, Haven't done this in a while, have to keep my hand in" as he flicked appropriate toggles,

""Vector" this is "Victoria""

""Vector"?"

""Vector" have the convoy decrease to two forty. We will catch up. "Nachtlicht" will be joining. Take the lead and I'll trail. "Victoria""

""Vector" roger"

""Victoria" clear".

"Peter, keep our velocity down until the pinnace rejoins and then scarper after "Nachtlicht". Remind Tommy he is to join the convoy and to contact the Convoy Commodore for instructions. This is one of those times when having such detection gear is not a blessing. I could see something happening but I couldn't do a thing about it. Twenty four people are murdered and all I can do is play catch up. You have the bridge, Peter."



-------

Chapter 58



The PGS major carefully scraped this boots on the scraper besides the door of the Grace and Favour apartment attached to The Round Tower. He then just as carefully scraped them on the door mat before entering his home. Once inside he stood on the carpet square, removed his boots placing them in a box close to his hand, put on soft coverings and walked down to his sitting room. His wife was already seated and pouring his cup of tea to place it gently on the coffee table before him. It was a ritual she had established the day after their return from their honeymoon. Even when he was away on duty, she still followed the ritual – it was her quiet time. There were times when unplanned events caused him to be absent but whenever he could, he commed her. The timing had been moved about to fit in with his regular duties but not the event. They had made an incongruous couple when they had been walking out courting, the two metre solidly built private soldier with the hundred fifty five centimetre slender daughter of a cobbler. Nobody laughed at them for the private's reflexes were fast and his hands were the size of her head.

"Rupert, dinner will be the usual time," she said, "there are all the news faxes. There is a letter for you."

She passed over the letter not commenting in anyway about it; her husband has numerous friends scattered over the galaxy, but like her husband they were not writers; their wives on the other hand... !

The major picked up the missive, saw the Gregor mark of origin with a slight increase of interest which was raised by the FPO address. The name however did ring a bell and that did heighten his interest tinged with an apprehension. He opened it and found himself looking at the letter head of the Royal Amirant Hotel, Old Breslau. He was very upright in his seat. It was dated five days ago.

Dear Uncle Rupert,

I am writing in a quandary. I have known for years that the relationship between the Elders of the families of our cousins is soured.

I was doing some work here, the same sort of work that I was doing in my first job. Uncle Gus contacted me. We got together for drinks one afternoon and he became very curious about what I was doing. It was nothing that would really have alarmed or annoyed anyone but it was and is personal to our family.

At the time, Aunty Lillibet made me promise not to tell anyone.

I know Uncle Gus is a curmudgeon and can get upset out of all proportion but I had to fob him off. I could see that he was not happy but he didn't really push the issue.

I could tell he was a bit upset and he changed the subject to the female cousins. He seemed to approve of their being faithful to their boy friends and visiting as often as they could wherever the men's jobs took them. He said he had been told by his factors that they used the Junction quite frequently to stay at Gregor and Raffles.

Uncle Gus has certainly retained his interest in the family and I wonder if you would delicately approach Aunt Lillibet to permit me to explain to Uncle Gus and tell him of the benefits of my work to the families. I piously hope that giving him this information would improve the families' relationships.

As I don't know when I'll be back in Old Breslau, perhaps Uncle Silas could brief Uncle Gus. Please let me know.

Yours aye

Your nephew

Aggy.

Rupert sat there holding the letter in his hand. He did recall Aggy McCock. He did recall also that his Sovereign held him in high regard as did the Admiralty. He wanted something done very, very unofficially, - hence this approach to a fellow officer to whom he had only literally nodded in passing. McCock had not been in regular service at the time but the plan had been to send him off to Paracelsus. So what was he doing in Old Breslau? Nothing untoward or he would not have made this contact. The only thing concrete in his letter was his first job and school. Admiralty should have his pre service employment.

"Dinner, dear" called his wife.

"Coming dear," he refolded the letter and slipped it into his inside pocket. He always remained in uniform until using the fresher before retiring. His job did include unpredictable occasions.

Admiral Rowan was chatting to Shelly about a report on some work in the yard when the PGS Major arrived. Rowan had been expecting him and after shaking hands ushered him into the Dungeon. Shelly didn't pay any more attention and she had turned back to her work. Silas buzzed Shelly some ten minutes later,

"Shelly does Aggy have an Uncle Gus or an Aunt Lillibet? I thought he had only his parents left?"

"He does have some cousins on Grenoble, I think. But no close ones. He has never spoken of any and always said that here were only his parents on Mountserrat. Why?"

"Seems that ... that doesn't make any sense. Why would he write to PGS? Thanks Shell" and the link was broken.

There was almost the faint whiff of ozone as an electronic circuit closed. Shelly looked blankly over her desk for a moment, then rapidly used her 'puter, and smiled grimly at the information. She got up and held her hand down on the door buzzer to the 'Dungeon'. There was a click as the solenoid released and she marched into Rowan's office. Rowan was looking slightly alarmed as Shelly usually only pushed the buzzer and waited,

"What is it, Shell?"

Shelley saw the Major folding a sheet of note paper and was putting it in his top pocket. She strode over to him hand outstretched,

"You are PGS?"

The major nodded looking at Shelly and buttoning down the pocket.

"Gimme!" demanded Shelly and, when he hesitated, stamped her foot,

"Gimme!" she repeated.

The Major looked slightly stunned at Rowan who was looking thoughtfully at Shelly. Rowan looked at the Major and then nodded his head.

Shelly unfolded the note, read it quickly, gave a shake of her blonde hair and handed the letter back saying dismissively as she did so,

'It's easy!"

The Major looked at Shelly in confusion mixed with stunned.

"It's easy", Shelly repeated, "Augustus Amirant confronted Aggy for purchasing ships' stores. They were to be used in automating "Vance" to help with the under strength crew, and Augustus must have been quite curious about it. Augustus also knows about 'Mina and I using the Junction to have time with Denny and Cowboy. It's interesting he mentioned Raffles. Gregor is easy. Aggy thinks Mountserrat- Amiranti relations would be improved if Queen Elizabeth authorized Augustus be told."

This suddenly went way above everybody's pay scale.

Rowan by the nature of his work was curious.

"How come, Shell?"

"Last weekend in Gregor, Cowboy was complaining of twisting his knee while he had been doing work in an after impeller room; that's all he said. When you mentioned Gus and Lillibet I got the persons. 'Lillibet' was the pet name for Elizabeth II of England pre Diaspora. The comment in the letter about his first job, and you were onto that, just confirmed it. See it was easy."

Rowan just looked at her, she continued,

"Silas, Cowboy is guns; what was he doing in the after impeller room? Aggy and Polack weren't on "Vance" in Gregor. We always have a lunch and drinks whenever 'Mina and I go. Why wasn't Aggy there, he's XO on "Vance". If he was going on leave he'd have been with Denny, Cowboy, Polack and Slow. They're inseparable. It has to be important at least for "Vance". Augustus got curious, that's how I read it."

The Major looked innocently at Rowan,

"You had better bring your Intel Officer with you for your audience. I will notify you ASAP. Please have all that documentation to hand. A pleasure to meet you Shelly. Thank you Admiral."

Shelly had tagged the letter perfectly.

McCock and Polack had disembarked in Old Breslau and booked into the Royal Amirant Hotel. Augustus's people were not concerned about their getting into mischief; the Mountserrat officers were quite open about their movements and whilst unusual, such officers did occasionally stop over in Old Breslau, rather than the more usual Gregor. The interest was a bit more concentrated when the pair booked into an hotel considered way above the means of Naval line officers. The knowledge of the prizemoney from "Bonaventura" was still held by the Admiralty and, although within the Navy rumours did abound, the information had not got into general circulation. The Amiranti CI people then became very confused. After a visit to a shipping agent, well known but of no interest to CI, all three began a tour of Ships' Chandleries and Engineering shops. Later, trips to Electonics warehouses and Engine Machine shops added to the confusion and for CI confusion equals paranoia. CI do not like mysteries, it is bred into them, they have to know. Apart from a long list of goods, there was nothing. The items on the list were scrutinized singly and in every combination possible. Nothing. Higher was informed, of course, until it couldn't go any higher. The Emperor was in his own way a simple man and he had simply said,

"Ask them!"

After some discussion as to how to do such a simple thing without ruffling diplomatic feathers, breaking headlines gave a reason for a reception. The Ambassador from Mountserrat rather pointedly received an invitation from the Amiranti palace to host a reception and to include the Amiranti Naval Command in its guest list; also have Cdr McCock and LtCdr Kowalski enjoy the celebrations.

Thus it was that Admiral Chien-lu Amirant was able to join McCock in toasting Commodore Cunningham who has miraculously been raised from the dead.

"I met her when she came through here in "Fairpath". As much as I enjoyed meeting and talking with her, I had been ordered to contact her and pass on a message. Without modesty, I can say that my actions cannot be truly personal or independent of my Emperor's wishes. Again I am ordered to contact a foreign officer at an event I can truly enjoy. Augustus is curious about your shopping list. Having been asked for my official comments on it, I too am curious. Is there anything you can tell us about it?"

McCock felt he was lost in space in a lifepod whose power was failing, so he temporized,

"Admiral, I cannot tell you anything other than unless a state of war breaks out between Mountserrat and the Amirant Empire, there is absolutely no danger or risk to the Empire and even then any effect would only be indirect."

The Admiral, being a serving officer, accepted that there were some things which could not be discussed. Upon his return to his office Von und zu Reiperbahn pointed his Intel desk at the task.

"It is beneficial to RMN so I want it."

Aunt Lillibet was also a simple person who understood the complexities of ruling and also of the niceties of treating friends, so she said,

"Tell him!"

Once again the diplomatic feathers had to be smoothed and a certain discretion exercised.

Then it was that some months later that an official visit by a BC Squadron was made to Old Breslau. It was necessary of course for the Ambassador to be present at the official welcome at the Amiranti Admiralty. The Ambassador was accompanied by a very nervous RMN Aide-de-camp They slipped away to an office where Herzog von und zu Reiperbahn was seated at his desk. At a side table sat another office wearing Commodore's rank tabs. After cordially shaking von und zu Reiperbahn's hand the Ambassador turned to the other officer and gave him an official non recognition half bow and returned to von und zu Reiperbahn handing him a sheet of notepaper and an envelope addressed simply 'Uncle Gus'. The Admiral read the note, saw the address, and smiled,

"I will personally ensure that Uncle Gus gets his letter. Perhaps your Aide and you will join me in some tea?"

The hastily commissioned Lieutenant Shelly Black RMNR was put at the ease by the Amiranti officers who were able to commiserate with her on the trials of the separation of families in the Naval services.

In the affairs of rulers, many decisions are made; the most serious of which involve friendships or absence thereof between neighbours. Many factors influence these decisions, most of them major factors, but there are always minor factors which can sway the ruler. One of these is how well his neighbour discharges his responsibilities towards his own subjects; another could be to give, unconditionally, plans on how to best use manpower under particular circumstances



-------

Chapter 59



The "Crusher" topics had been dealt with somewhat to Gold Roper's relief; he had been dragged into them and his experience and knowledge has been sorely tested by five highly dedicated minds. The topics had been widened by the introduction of "Shriek" into the simulations.

The crew was kept active as was needed on the constant convoy duties to break the tedium and maintain their standards. The crew, grumbling about being underpaid and the extra work they were having to undertake, was masking the smug satisfaction of seeing their officers worked harder and of course having to train junior officers on how to find their own so that eventually the Ensigns and jgs could do it without help.

Gold Roper drew certain conclusions from these activities and the "wash ups" at the end of each exercise.

Gold Roper had the Flock write the paper of one of the most heretical views they had arrived at. The 'big ship' was an idea past its prime. Gold Roper could not fault the argument, emotionally could not accept it but passed it on to his peers without comment. The response was deafening in its silence – a sure measure of the thought being given to it.

The killer of ships was the projectile; in the days of wooden shop there was fire as well but fire was most often secondary to the projectile. The projectile increased in size and explosive was added to increase the damage caused. Bigger projectiles needed bigger rifles and these needed bigger vessels carrying them and this allowed more armour for protection. In pre-diapora times, small parasite ships were in use carrying small missiles and it had been found to be very effective when used as a swarm, and with direct fire weapons as well. There were more effective projectiles in service but these were still tied to the firing ship. What was needed and would eventually come would be the parasites carrying these much improved projectiles far beyond the envelope of a firing vessel and be able to release them at an enemy who would have no knowledge of the whereabouts of the mother vessels. The ship's library had been metaphorically plundered for references. The primary argument was based upon a well documented pre Diaspora wet navy battle at an island called Midway; study of the subsequent history demonstrated the development of the principle.

The discussion had wandered further as to whether or not "Shriek" could be fitted with energy torpedoes. The Flock's consensus was negative as she had been built with CL missiles in mind. A suggestion by Polack who still had fond recollections of "Offspring" was deferred while thought about. A powered lattice work to carry missiles, which could free them as required with a swarm of smaller vessels carried in a mother ship to accompany the lattice loads to approximately the operations area where the parasites would collect them to deliver them at a far distant enemy. "Shriek" was based on a mobile gun mount. Why not a mobile missile magazine from a DN and forget the rest of the hull.

The Flock now had the time to automate "Vance" much to the horror of the Chief Engineer which turned to enthusiasm as he became aware of how more efficiently he could monitor his work space and thus allow him to perform his maintenance almost at his leisure. It did take several voyages to complete and train the crew and, when that was done, more higher duties' training was undertaken. Under McCock's supervision "Vance" became a highly efficient vessel.

Lt Cdr Peter Carmody had rejoined with "Washton" to give "Vector" the news that the Amirantis had paid one eighth of the value of "Nachtlicht's" hull and contents for the recaptured prize.

Peter Carmody repaired on board "Vance" whilst still at Raffles to bring the usual Admiralty publications etc and the mail. 'Mina Galbraith and Shelly Black had taken very unofficial passage out on her. The Flock went dirtside for lunch with the ladies.

McCock and Slow had just cleared the air lock as the two Captains were proceeding to it. Slow was in a state of almost hysterical mirth and could barely stand. McCock looked disgusted which caused Slow to burst into giggles and laughter every time she looked at him. Peter and McCock exchanged greetings and mutual congratulations while Slow leaned against the bulkhead chuckling, laughing, convulsing with tears running down her face.

"Captain, after I throw this into the Ward Room can I have a private word."

"Why not her cabin?" queried Gold Roper.

"The silly b ... unh, ... thing could choke if I left her alone. She's got a bit more than usual aboard. I'll get the Pantry Steward to feed her black coffee and keep an eye on her."

"What brought this on, I've seen her tipsy after previous lunches but not hysterical. Oh goodbye Peter, have a read of Aggy's manning paper and let me know!"

"Grab a mug, Aggy, and a seat. Should Betty improve her knowledge in the library?"

"No point, sir. The pinnace crew saw her and it'll be all over the ship by first dog. You might invite her to join us so she'll have the facts straight and," smirking at the steward, "we can get the party line going."

"I do believe my XO is in need of female advice. Betty, coffee for you and sit across from Aggy. Aggy, now quench my burning curiosity!"

"You remember when Polack and I went on our buying spree in Old Breslau. I told you about my contact with von und zu Reiperbahn. I did send that up to higher and Shelly filled me in on the results of my sending it on. I've stepped way out of the chain of command and you will feel the need to counsel me. Betty, this needs to be tight held but it does have a relevance to Slow's hysteria."

McCock recounted the effect of his letter and the events which followed up to the handing over of the briefcase. Gold Roper didn't even hesitate,

"Aggy, a decision on your action was taken in The Round Tower and I am not that arrogant that I will second guess that. Caps in the corner, Aggy, I don't know how I would have handled that but you got the best result. Well done! Now about Slow?"

"At the first Embassy reception, unbeknownst to me, Polack met up with this very young petite beautiful lady who straight up introduced herself as Gertrude Amirant and in the next two breaths told him and if you call me Gerty I'll disembowel you and that will make Grandpapa angry with me because I've got to seduce you and get all your knowledge for him. She actually made no attempt to obtain any information at all, they just spent literally and it was apparently literally every minute he wasn't with me. Their Royals were apparently enraged but were satisfied that it was her chasing Polack who didn't make the connection at all, thinking she was a girl out for a good time. Their Palace read her the Riot Act and were getting the family to put Trudi into a strict military school. I'm not sure I accept that as an absolute truth as she was still around when Shelly Black delivered the briefcase and that was at the later reception. Trudi had a good chat with Shell but didn't ask anything except extract a vague promise of lending Trudi a hand if she came to visit in Settlement. Last week, about two bells in second watch, Shell is woken by her com. Trudi is outside having got a shuttle from the docks. She had done a 'runner'. She collected a heap of assets, cash, jewellery etc and took her personal yacht – she has a personal vessel less than four hundred tonnes all space ticket – and swans off through Gregor waving her diplomatic passport at Wormhole Control. Gregor Wormhole Control has seen her go through occasionally so no alarm bells. Sorry, Sir, if you think there is trouble you haven't heard the worst or the best or whatever. After talking with Trudi, Shell coms 'Mina. Trudi is nine weeks pregnant and is not going to abort. Shelly is the schemer and gets to Commander Thoreau, GDF Military Secretary. He knows about Shelly and 'Mina and their relationship with Cowboy and Denny. The lads had been chatting with Thoreau about getting married and Shelly had found out that our regs require only the Mil Sec to approve. The light is dawning, is it, Sir? You got it! The trio get their permissions, and here is the real ringer, ask Diana Halliday to stand for them. They collar a chaplain from somewhere. Rowan gets to hear of it and they all crush into Trudi's yacht to meet us here. Trudi takes Polack aside and bluntly asks him to marry her without mentioning the pregnancy; he is infatuated with her and is thanking the Deity it is reciprocated. Shelly had become friendly with a Rien Cockson and had asked her to stand for them as well. The three couples are married in the Wormhole Control chapel at Raffles. Oh, Slow stood for them as well. There was a sort of wedding lunch where I am brought up to date except I didn't hear the full story about Trudi until just before we boarded the pinnace. We'd seen Diana and Silas off much the worse for wear when they jumped a ride back on a Peninsula freighter and they don't know who exactly Trudi is. That is when Slow lost it. Polack is 44 T-years old and Trudi is 23. I don't know whether to join Slow in hysterics or drink myself into oblivion; and before you ask, I stood with Silas for the men."

Betty looked at Aggy and said,

"You know, Sir, I am not going to say a word. I wondered what was up with Polack. Captain, on this ship there will be a lot of ribald comment and laughter but the lower deck will stand for the 'Flock' They are our weirdoes and we reckon we've got it sweet with our Ward Room. More coffee, Sirs? We could do with fresh."

She headed back into her pantry. Gold Roper just looked at McCock for several long minutes, and as Betty returned with fresh coffee,

"You know, Betty, I have just had a moment of advanced senility. I have lost my memory of the past ten minutes and I find that I am quite untroubled by the loss. I hope I have enjoyed your brew."



-------

Chapter 60



Evan Cochrane was a humane man who had realized early in the deployment that, with a certain amount of finagling, he could send detachments through the Junction so that his crew members could make contact with their loved ones as much as was possible in war years. It was noticeable that the crew's adaptability allowed more partnered than single "ashore on Raffles" and the opposite in Paracelsian or Amiranti ports.

Polack was one of those who enjoyed "shore leave" at Raffles but events did not conspire that he be present for the birth of his son, Augustus Gregory. The silence from the Amirant Empire was almost absolute except for a comment from their Ambassador to Queen Elizabeth that the "Trudi affair was not a cause of concern". Trudi had written to her Grandpapa and a strictly personal correspondence was maintained. Polack accepted Trudi's assurance that there would be no consequences but was more relieved by the arrival of a christening cup bearing the boy's name and the Amirant Coat of Arms.

However, back aboard, Polack wondered who had convinced the Captain, the XO and the Chief Engineer to grow horns and forked tails. It was his own stupid fault. From the time of his return from his marriage and subsequently his leaves, he wore an excreta eating grin and he had to be smacked down hard to bring his concentration and thought processes back to the ship. Denny and Cowboy were not much better as 'Mina and Shelly continued their visits to Raffles and Gregor. Slow still thought the whole matter was hilarious, but Aggy and she covered the Raffles and Gregor duties willingly.

More convoys, occasional sighting of pirates who now gave the convoys a wide berth, and the loss of freighters after the convoy's break-up continued. The change of government with Baron Brown Hollow in power leading to the Armistice left everyone gloomily ambivalent. The ambivalence got deeper as the news of the reductions in force without a peace treaty came through. For 119, however, the drudgery of convoying continued with ship drills, fleet evolutions, and "Shriek" training sorties.

The squadron had joined up and were escorting twenty one merchantmen, four days out of Raffles with "Shriek" leading using a crossover pattern. She was on the right of the convoy when "Washton" gave the alarm over the Tabes ('talk between ships' which was an open circuit encrypted burst link between all the squadron's ships),

""Washton" target two three zero co-planar, one point two four mega klicks, tracking zero four zero degrees at four eighty gravities, over"

""Vance" thank you. "Shriek", make best possible to intercept and identify, over."

""Shriek" wilco".

""Vance" all ships, action stations, clear."

In "Shriek", Lt jg Felix Arbuthson quickly assessed his screens, did the mental calculations,

"Helm, bring her left to two two five, full ahead, we'll save max mil till we need it."

"Shriek's" Quartermaster acknowledged and the ERA in a clear soprano said,

"Thank you, Sir!"

Felix wondered what in the underworld am I doing here, does he hate me that much that I land in the bucket on my first independent sortie, Mother can I come home now I promise I'll be good. Having purged his mind of his uncertainties his training kicked in and he watched the tell tales on his screens.

"Tac, do a quick calculation where that bogey will appear. Guns warm up the graser and bring the missiles on line, please."

"Commodore, "Vance" take the convoy to zero nine zero degrees and begin a plus minus spread of thirty degrees, bring the convoy speed to two eighty, out to you. All ships except "Shriek" join on "Washton" who will turn towards the bogey, clear."

Felix Arbuthson heard that,

"EW put Period on my screen."

To reduce the clutter of lines marking vessels' paths and trying to decipher the compound effect of his track on them, he reduced the time of record to ten minutes.

""Washton" bogey identified as Harbourian Battle class CA and two Frigate class CLs. My EW thinks they have been actively pinging intermittently. Bogey could pick up the convoy if he pinged in the next twenty or so, over"

Gold Roper wondered what Harbourians were doing in Paracelsus; there was an armistice, wasn't there?.

""Vance" "Washton" standby, Commodore, turn the convoy back to the left thirty degrees, over"

"Commodore, wilco."

""Vector". We've got a leaker, a 'merchie' has turned right and is heading towards the bogey. I'm turning to shepherd, over."

"Negative "Vector", form up on "Washton", you won't catch him before the bogey has ... don't bother. Bogey just pinged and has turned towards us. Join up asap."

On "Vance", Gold Roper was conducting the orchestra. He instructed Slow,

"Tac, on my screen, talk to me."

Slow operated her toggle,

"Bogey 1 is the CA, the lead CL is bogey 2 and the trailer is bogey 3. They turned towards as soon as they got a sniff of the stray. That's "Shriek" crossing the convoy line at six twenty gravs. We are coming up on "Washton's" starboard quarter. "Victoria" is coming up astern. That is "Warburton" behind us and that's "Vector" ... oh shit!".

Slow lunged for the command net toggle,

""Vector" go high go high stat ... shit."

The CA veered to the right and fired five missiles at maximum acceleration towards "Vector" whose image flashed momentarily as she went from hole in space to defensive shields and rolled ship to meet the missiles. One got partly through and the screens showed damage on the stern.

"Sorry, Sir, I realized bogey 2 might 'see' "Vector" back lighted by a 'merchie'; 2 was out of range but that CA wasn't and they were sharp enough to coordinate that response. I was just a bit too late."

"Well, we now know their intentions; you did very well to spot that so quickly. What damage to "Vector"?"

"Sir, she reports loss of after two torpedo tubes on starboard side and has taken eleven casualties. Can maintain his velocity. Repairs underway. We have confirmed he is back to hole in space again."

Gold Roper had been studying his screens as he received the report. None of the bogeys would make the right hand escorts against the scattering convoy. He watched bogey 3 veer off towards the stray merchantman.

""Shriek" get onto the bow of bogey 3, time it with "Vector", and get down her throat. "Vector" come down from high past bogey 3 in company with "Shriek" and put a broadside of energy torpedoes into him. "Victoria" turn to cross the 'T' of bogey 2, time it please, to allow "Washton" "Warburton" and "Vance" to continue our advance to turn left across bogey 1. Clear"

"Tac, you got that? Good! Send it to the others stat!"

"Warburton" go high and "Vance" will go low so we will be abreast as we pass him, hopefully down his throat. Clear."

Bogey 3 fired at the stray, destroyed it in a flare on the screens, and turned to chase the convoy. "Vector" had to adjust her course and pull a tighter turn as bogey 3 began to veer left towards "Vector". "Vector" opened fire first and she put a rippling broadside around the throat of bogey 3 who also disappeared.

The remaining bogeys began a hard turn left to turn away from the convoy.

""Warburton" "Washton" "Vance" hard port now! Drag it around. Fire as you bear."

The three broadsides of energy torpedos crashed about and into the bows of the CA. There were too many for any countermeasures even if there had been any time to respond. Even though both fusion bottles shut down, there was only the after quarter left; the rest of the CA was space debris.

Bogey 2 pulled his bow hard away from the convoy, probably deciding he didn't want to find out who had just caused such damage but he still had some momentum towards the convoy. Peter Carmody judged it beautifully, going to full military power, timing it to cross the CL's stern and putting a half broadside at just under half range into that unprotected stern. The fusion bottle did not shut down and bogey 2 disappeared.

"Down the throat or up the khyber, I'll take them anyway I can get a shot." came Peter's voice over Tabes.

Felix Arbuthson didn't know whether to feel relieved or annoyed as he stood his unfired weaponry down.

"Charlie Charlie, let's round up the strays shall we! Well done to all "Vance" clear."

Gold Roper turned to his bridge team,

"Stand down from action stations please. Who has the watch? Ah, Slow, that was very quick of you; collect the tapes will you so we can get a better idea of why "Vector" got hit. Meanwhile Denny, you have the watch? Get the Commodore to return the convoy to the original heading and get the squadron rounding up the herd. I'll be in my cabin."

"Captain off the bridge" called the quartermaster.



-------

Chapter 61



"Vector" carried the Raffles shore leave party through the Junction to the yards at Mountserrat. She had been ordered in for repairs to her stern. Her return unfortunately drew the attention of the Chapati Admiralty to 119 DD Squadron. The stand down from War Status provided the Admiralty with a surplus of freed up war ships of all types. The existence of 119 was examined by the Admiralty and the decision was made to retire the V and W DDs and replace them with more modern vessels which were to be retained in that Navy and for whom employment was needed. Things run slowly in bureaucracies at any time but took longer in that dysfunctional organization.

"Vector" was repaired and returned to service.

Tentative enquires for tender were publicized for the sale to breakers' yard for five V and W DDs. There were no responses as the breakers were already at full stretch with the downsizing of the fleet and retirement of vessels. Further enquiries were made on the basis of "we will pay you to take them"; this was actually economic as the cost of mothballing was high and the available moorage was considerably diminished.

119 DD Squadron continued the peregrinations of convoy duty. The word however did filter down as the enquires for tender had been noticed by friends and relatives of the crew who passed it on. A gloom spread over the Squadron but not enough to affect its efficiency. The vessels themselves seemed to droop just a bit and to show their years.

McCock put the Flock back to school. They had completed the "Crusher" although this would never be officially recorded and the Senior Officers who knew of it had long been retired on half pay. He had received notices of the affairs of GmBH from MFH in Gorgipest and noted them for future reference. He had passed them to the Flock who read them but did not as closely note them.

Polack had thrown an idea into their collective minds some time previously about using the harmonics of the power plant to tune the hull so that emissions did not leak out of the shields. Cowboy had joined in and the two from time to time further thought on it. McCock kept abreast of their thinking and added his thoughts.

McCock had obtained the syllabus for Master Mariners and was leading the Flock through its intricacies as it reflected the civilian aspects of space commerce and travel.

The Naval Attaché at Old Breslau brought them the orders. This was their last convoy run. Upon returning to Raffles, 119 DD Squadron was to proceed to the Navy Yards in Settlement where the ships would be paid off. The destroyers had been "sold" to a breaker's yard in Gorgipest, Chas Ferguson and Sons Pty. The purchaser would hire civilian crews to ferry the vessels to Gorgipest. The Mountserrar officers were to go onto half pay. The Grenoble officers were told their services were no longer needed and to look to the GDF for further employment. The RMN other ranks were to be discharged to the Reserves. Navy personnel whose home port was Gorgipest could seek passage as supernumeraries and please contact MFH who are the agents. MFH was seeking a Master and six spacemen for each vessel, the absolute minimum allowed for vessels of this size being ferried that distance.

. The last convoys had been without event or loss. 119 DD Squadron saluted the 12th Cruiser Flotilla, its replacement, as they passed en route to Settlement. The dinner dance given by the officers for the personnel of the squadron was held in a Mess Hall at the yard four nights after coming alongside. The spacers were to begin their sequenced disembarkation the next day. Wives and girlfriends attended. Friends of the squadron turned up including some previously senior serving officers. Diana Halliday and Silas Rowan attended looking somewhat lost at losing yet another piece of their lives and not having fully adjusted to being on half pay after two years. Sally McGraw came last but had to leave early; she too had been 'beached' but her prize money meant there was no financial hardship. Being a Navy bash, there was the usual collection of extra females, usually from the government offices who had heard of the party. Slow spotted McCock deep in conversation with an older woman, red headed, classically beautiful and well turned out. She thought that McCock must have had a thing for older redheads and let the thought go as she entertained her companion.

Taking time from the Naval duties associated with the paying off of ships and crew, McCock got the Flock to the Mountserrat Marine and Navigation Department where they wrote and passed their Masters' examinations. Their ship log books, which McCock had insisted they keep, certified to by Captain Viscount Gold Roper, and one, HMS McCock, Master Mariner all tonnage all space, satisfied the practical requirements. The Flock received with most unusual speed their "less than 100 k ton local space" tickets.

MFH snapped up the Flock to captain the vessels to Gorgipest.

McCock despite being XO spent a lot of his days ashore liaising with MFH and Bollard Lines. He noticed the bare patch on the outside office wall and enquired about it. The Brown Hollow government had ordered the removal of the plaque proclaiming that the building held the offices of the Grenoble Government –in-exile which recognition had been rescinded. McCock had been told of that event but it didn't firmly register until that moment.

This led him into another series of consultations with Commander Thoreau and MFH. Mr Thoreau presented himself to the Madigarian Embassy acting on behalf of Bollard Lines and its associates for registry of the five vessels which were recently paid off and were now the property of Chas Ferguson and Sons Pty. Further documents were offered, exchanged, returned and issued. It was noted by Mountserrat counter intelligence that the lifestyle of several of the Madigarian Naval Attaches underwent a substantial improvement.

The Flock and their partners assembled as frequently as they could. McCock did not stay overlong at these evening gatherings pleading tiredness and overwork. Their conversations centred upon their futures, Gorgipest or Settlement, Commerce or Academia, Manufacturing or Research. The only decision made was to take the small fleet to Gorgipest, investigate events and circumstances at GmBH and make more assessments with better information. Slow's now fiancé, David Murchien offered and had his knowledge of financial ways and means utilized and was impressed, but not jealous, to find that Slow's assets were significantly larger than his. David was horrified to learn how a sizeable portion of these assets had been earned. That meeting broke up on a very happy note – Cowboy and Shelly announced they had just tubed their son.

The night before the formal paying off and decommissioning of the ships of the squadron the officers had the formal Dining Out. It was the first time that the Flock had worn the full mess dress of the GDF. Slow thought the grey was a softer colour to the almost hardness of the RMN black. She however was not impressed with the lack of utility of the GDF fedora like head gear. The Officers' Ladies were invited. McCock was accompanied by the stately red head whose gown impressed Slow sufficiently to make a mental note to discover the couturier. It was a very sad occasion for all and the farewells were heartfelt. They accepted that an important part of their lives had ended and the parting of the ways to separate parts of the kingdom would mean a complete breaking of relationships for many.

The next morning the final formal ceremony was held. The commissioning pennants were lowered and given to the Captains. The ships colours were lowered for the last time (many thought) and were laid up in the base Chapel. The ships bells were retained by order of the purchaser for donation to Gorgipest schools. Many of the crews were absent as they had gone their ways over the previous month. All who remained, after the formalities were over, were those who were taking passage to Gorgipest. They were joined by non-squadron ex-naval personnel who were taking the opportunity to take passage as supernumeraries.

McCock assembled them all in an adjacent warehouse where he introduced himself and his fellow captains. He explained that he had divided them evenly so that there would be eighty nine in each vessel other than "Vance" which would have ninety five as "Shriek" still sat on its davits on "Vance'. He had made up the watch bills so that all would be occupied to prevent boredom and had set out training schedules as if they were still on a Navy warship. Those who chose to do so could sign on and would be paid crew. Those who chose not to sign on as crew would be supernumeraries and "please do not get in the way." All signed up.

Felix Arbuthson signed up also. He had been fully prepared to be supernumerary to get more rides in "Shriek".

Bunkerage was taken on board sufficient for the voyage to Gorgipest at cruise power plus twenty five percent as a safety margin.

The packet paid the compliments to the Mountserrat picket which solemnly returned the salute as they left the outer harbour.

Commodore McCock led them out to the hyper limit in "Vance" followed in order astern by "Victoria" (LA Gort) "Vector" (SC Indira) "Washton" (EB Denholt) and "Warburton" (GA Kowakski).



-------

Chapter 62



The Queen nodded to Lt Cdr McGraw who activated the recorders.

"I call this meeting of the Commissioners for the Execution of the Duties of the Lord High Admiral to order. For the record those present are

Elizabeth III, Lord High Admiral

Earl Blue Hills, First Lord of the Admiralty

William Bruce, Baron Glanville, Prime minister

Duchess Francene Shadowdale, Chancellor of Exchequer

Admiral Sir Thomas Cassimatis, First Space Lord

Vice Admiral Dame Petra Dawsen, DNI

Rear Admiral Sir Roderick Milligan, Staff Officer, Plans

Admiral Sir Laurence Hernandes, Second Space Lord

Admiral Dame Diana Halliday, Third Space Lord

Rear Admiral Sir Silas Rowan, Director, Weapons Development

Vice Admiral Sir Reginald Deene, Fourth Space Lord

Lt Cdr McGraw, OME, Secretary to the Navy Board,

And, by my invitation,

The Lord Chief Justice.

The agenda for this meeting contains only one item,

"Gorgipest".

We are all aware of the history of events which happened but I want you to hear the opinion of the Supreme Court. Chief Justice?"

"Your Majesty, My Lords and Ladies.

The two series of events relevant to this matter are;

Firstly. The Flag Officer Commanding, Gorgipest, Admiral Joseph Higgins, was confronted by what his peers accept was an overwhelming enemy force which had destroyed part of his defending force. Admiral Higgins ordered the destruction of the Navy Yards. He ordered the evacuation of personnel deemed critical to the defence of the Realm. His fleet evacuated those persons and as many others as he could before fleeing from enemy contact. He abandoned the base, its contents and the planet to Republic of Harbourian control. Subsequently the enemy fleet retired leaving a guard of five battle cruisers, a light cruiser, two fast attack transports and two battalions of marines who were in the process of systematically rounding up prisoners and scouring the wreckage of the Navy Yards for intelligence.

Secondly. During the dying days of the Brown Hollow government, a squadron of old destroyers, being deemed beyond economic life and no longer fit for service, were decommissioned and their names removed from the Navy List. The Admiralty disposed of the vessels by contract to Charles Ferguson and Sons Pty of Gorgipest. The terms of the contract relevant are;

1. RMN would provide funds to Charles Ferguson and Sons Pty (the purchasers) to remove the vessels to Gorgipest;

2. RMN were to hire but not pay for civilian crews to ferry the vessels to Gorgipest. The crew would be paid by the purchaser; and

3. The purchaser would carry ex naval personnel to Gorgipest, these persons having joined in Gorgipest, at RMN expense.

The Purchaser arranged registration of the vessels under their serving names in the Caliphate of Madigar noting that the Purchaser had leased them to the Grenoble Government-in-exile. Letters of Marque were obtained for the ships from the Caliphate.

The ships were captained by officers who had served on HMS "Vance" and were crewed by approximately ninety ex naval personnel each, about half having served previously in the 119 DD Squadron which had comprised these vessels. All persons on those vessels were signed on as paid crew.

Upon arrival at Gorgipest, these vessels destroyed the five battle cruisers and the light cruiser and seized the two transports. In the course of the action an ex RMN destroyer, previously HMS "Vector", was destroyed with all hands.

The Commodore of the remaining vessels declared salvage over the planet including the Navy Yards and all Naval Stores on Gorgipest."

"Vance" and its cohorts had spent a leisurely journey to Gorgipest. The ships' companies had undertaken training and exercised aboard the ex warships without the pressure of formal naval discipline and had reached a high standard of efficiency for the very small numbers. These small numbers would allow only one bank of torpedoes or one side of gun mounts being manned after the bridge and engine room were manned. There had been much good natured chafing between spacers who had previously been on guns or on torpedoes as they worked side by side on either one.

"Vance" led the fleet as it translated into n space having retracted sails as they passed from alpha hyper to n space. The Captains had agreed that to prevent surprising Gorgipest Control, the packet would translate, then coast ballistic until the five were all into n space and they would then move as a unit to the breaker's yards. A very heavy pall of sadness lay over the depleted crews – ships which had given long and valuable service were to be broken up. It was the way of things but that didn't mean they had to enjoy delivering the ships and translating into n space marked almost the end.

That mood might have explained the delay before the spacer on EW reported.

"Sir you need to look at this. I don't know what to make of it."

"It" was a glare on the screen from the direction of Gorgipest itself. The glare was sufficiently bright that when the filters were brought up to dim it, nothing else registered.

McCock raised his fellow Captains on Tabes and shared opinions. Tac Com reported no transmission on any band. Developing suspicions quickly, it was agreed that "Vance" would activate Period for one sweep. The results were staggering. The flare of radiation from the Navy Yard distorted any return of signal over a very wide arc. There was some minimal signal away to the north east with no discernable cause seen. Decision? Investigate. "Shriek" to reconnoitre. Meantime, continue shut down and coast. Crews to be alerted, informed and fed, and exact bunker levels ascertained.

Felix Arbuthson was again very ambivalent about this. Another ride in command of "Shriek" but, and the 'but' was gigantic, he was riding into a massive disaster of some sort. He smiled to himself as the hoary Navy chestnut tripped across his mind equally quickly followed by the reminder he was no longer in 'pussers' or was it 'Andrew'? He squelched his history lesson.

"Shriek" check lists were quickly but thoroughly completed. Felix reported.

""Vance", "Shriek" ready."

""Shriek" proceed."

Felix gave the command

"Let go both davits. Manoeuvring slow ahead. For the bow generator only hole-in-space."

The crew acknowledged as "Shriek" moved slowly ahead of her mother ship.

"Hole-in-space all around. Rig impellers to two forty gravities. Period a sweep every five minutes please. Right now boys and girl" nodding at his ERA "lets sit back and enjoy the ride."

"Shriek" set a course to their left of the planet so that the planet's turn from their left to their right would take the base and its orbitals to a back drop against the void of space. The levels of radiation emanating from the base were beyond compatibility with life. Dirt side had no radiation levels. The civilian docks were clear except for a very small area furtherest away from the orbital yards.

At just under extreme range Period got a return which was not obscured by the flare of the orbital.

"Target one five five, one two zero, one point one five mega stationary. Harbourian five Asteroid BCs, one Ishtar CL."

"EW on my screen please. They come out of the clutter of the civilian docks?"

"Yes Cap ... Target, just dirtside to BCs, looks like two merchies. Hold, 'puter is working on some ... identified two Rider fast attack transports Sir."

"Tac, EW. Do five BC have the capacity to cause that amount of damage? No? I thought not. Perform spectral on that flare."

After several minutes of fiddling EW said

"Oh Oh" and glanced at his colleague at Tac who nodded,

"Puter says the radiation is from our weapons, nuclear blast weapons, Sir. Not a sniff of a Harbourian weapon."

"Thank you, now lets go and make Aggy overjoyed at the news. Take us home, Nav, back to "Vance"".



-------

Chapter 63



"Our choices are limited" began McCock over Tabes to his other Captains and the com was being piped throughout each ship.

"We don't have enough bunkerage to be confident we would all reach Hebrides. We have enough between us for one to probably return to Mountserrat.

So one – do we send one or two ships with everyone on board out to Hebrides, hoping we are not detected while transhipping bunker mass and crews.

Two – send everyone on one ship to Mountserrat.

Three - surrender to the Harbourians or

Four - attack the Harbourians".

""Vance","Vector", Aggy despite what Brown Hollow and his clowns did to us, those Harbourians are my enemies and those are my friends on Gorgipest, so what's your plan of attack? Over."

There was silence over the coms.

"Charley, charley, my plan is going out now. You have two hours to consider it and comment – use Tabes in two hours not before. "Vance" clear."

The plan was constrained by the bunkerage.

The planet's major moon was coming around. In six hour's time the squadron would move from the estimated position it would be in, hole-in-space, at two eighty gravities on the track shown heading towards the approaching moon with the initial movement in the shadow of the orbitals. Adjustments to line up the track would be made in the orbitals' shadow.

The squadron would sling shot around the moon in a line abreast parallel to the moon's surface and at a given point go ballistic; see plan. At the designated point, the squadron would individually turn over and at a point slightly further into their trajectory a timed thrusters burst would break them free of the moon's pull. Still travelling ballisticly the ships of the squadron would pass across the sterns of the BCs and put a broadside of energy torpedoes into their sterns at eight kay klicks. Go to defensive shield, full power and roll ship to have other broadside turned to enemy and there might be a chance to get the crew across to fire the second broadside if needed. Both broadsides were to be on line before departure this point.

The plan called for "Shriek" to move back to an observing point to report any change of enemy position. The enemy was stationary and had no emissions suggesting recent activity other than maintaining half shields. Scrutiny of "Shriek's" tapes gave an estimate of no movement in past two days which correlated with estimates of duration of the fluxes from the Navy Yard, the civilian yard and that area off to the north east. With "Shriek" in place to warn of enemy movement up to the time of lining up of the moon orbit it would be possible to break off and orbit the planet. Any later into the orbit and there was diminishing change of successful attack but there was a prospect of avoiding the BCs if they were moving and abandoning in the boats.

At two hours, the discussion was very brief and pointed.

"Let's get some sleep, Aggy, four hours rest would be a help," and that was it. Felix moved off with "Shriek" making its hole in space and, at five hundred gravities at the peak of the run, going dirtside of the moon with the squadron, the moon and the enemy all in sight of Period just as the squadron began its move.

The BCs were in their line abreast parallel to the planet's surface in a high orbital with the transports in low orbital. Irregularly the CL was doing a figure eight orbit varying in three planes. The BCs and the transports were holding their positions and there was no other activity apart from shuttles from dirtside joining and leaving the transports in no set pattern. No com transmissions detected on listening watch of the usual Harbourian frequencies.

Just over two hours later the squadron passed behind the moon. Felix had time to consider all the variables. He was noting that CL turned at the far leg of its orbit and if he did a straight path and not something fancy would bring it close to level with the passage of the squadron. Felix warned his crew he was moving in as soon as the squadron appeared over the top of the moon, and had the graser on line and the missiles receiving information on the CL's position...

As the squadron came over the top of the moon, the positions of the BCs and the moving CL were continuously passed from "Shriek" to the squadron. The squadron flipped out of the moon's gravitational pull to hurtle ballisticly stern first towards the orbitals. Felix worked his screens to show the estimated trajectories.

"Tav Nav, put us on that CL just as the squadron passes by its level."

"Shriek" began moving slowly.

"Captain, that's going to be bloody close to everything" came the protest.

"OK, explanation, that CL is going to know exactly just where each of our friends are as soon as those torpedoes are fired; then to further expose them is the flare changing from hole in space to defensive shields accompanied by a full power burn right in the CL's face. Our DDs will be defenceless and each one of those tin cans can be singly wiped out by that CL. There ain't the crew to fully man the defences. We are the only ship in this fleet fully manned and so we are elected!"

"Shriek's" crew watched their screens as the DDs swept down to almost the attack point.

"Deity help them" came from the EW position.

The CL appeared to have reached its turn point and was starting a slow turn which would present a broadside towards the DDs as they passed at point blank range with no time for defensive shields to be fully up. None of the squadron altered their tracks. It was going to depend on how sharp and ready that Harbourian was.

He was sharp and ready.

The squadron line passed across the BCs positions, one on one. The flare signatures of the energy torpedoes streaked across to reach their targets, followed by the flare of the transition from hole in space to defensive shields with the massive flares of full power; and the middle destroyer disappeared.

The Harbourian had a half broadside on each side at full readiness and his gun and missile mounts responded as only a well disciplined and trained crew could. The CL was continuing its turn towards the other destroyers as the energy torpedoes crashed into the unprotected sterns of the BCs; two disappeared instantly, the uppermost a few seconds later and the last two lost shields instantly and large fragments of their hulls accompanied with secondary explosions rapidly making them into lifeless drifting hulks.

The turning CL was just under maximum graser range when "Shriek" moved into firing position.

"Commence graser continuous fire; missile salvos as soon as on line."

He had not completed the firing order when the graser went to rapid cycling. The side of the CL was ripped open as if by a tin opener, the light speed weapon exploding the shields and slicing open the CL's hull. A fusion bottle let go just as the first missiles salvoed.

"Cease fire and leave weapons at the ready."

The sudden loss of their friend momentarily stunned the Flock but the helpless period of the full power burn allowed them to rapidly collect themselves. McCock spoke quietly over Tabes,

"Charley Charley, "Vance". Manoeuvre to the high orbitals, modulate your burns appropriately, and move to where those BCs were. Return to hole in space."

That brought the Captains back to their senses and to concentrate on the nav power problem. "Shriek" had initiated its turnover and burn on the other side of the depleted squadron. The Riders had apparently calculated that the DDs on full power would not be able to attend to them as they would be too busy not crashing into the planet's surface. They were quite correct but they had not detected "Shriek" in its turn over against the back ground of the flare from the yard and "Shriek" was burning parallel to the surface and not perpendicular.

""Shriek" can you get to those transports and convince them to join us; use your PDs to take out an alpha node; if they won't cooperate, destroy them with missiles if necessary."

""Vance", probably only need PDs, on my way."

McCock turned to his Com,

"Put me on guard frequency, please."

The com tech flipped several toggles on his panel

"You are live on guard, Captain."

"Charley charley this is 119, RMN ; guard, do you read? Over."

There came a cacophony of replies all over the top of each other.

"The female, others stay out, go ahead ID and status."

"119 this is Navy Approach Radar, there is a duty shift of twelve, personal weapons only, food and water for months. Harbourian marines in area, over."

"Navy radar out to you, next nearest over."

"119, this is Marine detachment dirtside base, one heavy weapons' company bunkered down. No contact with Harbourians yet. Over."

"Marines, go find the Harbourian commander and politely invite him to surrender. He's got no way home and I hold the high orbitals. I am not feeling nice. Tell him he's only got the one chance or I'll convert him and his little boys into dust and I don't give a damn about collateral damage. Come back to me on tactical; we'll hold a listening watch."

He nodded at his com tech who opened the marine tac freq and made contact.

""Vance", "Shriek". I had to take out an alpha node; they've both dropped their shields, over"

"Sit on them, Felix. I'll get some help up to you asap, clear."

"119 this is Avers go PDA"

"Hugh Aggy, we have taken out the BCs and the CL and "Shriek" has control of the Riders. We lost Cowboy with all hands in "Vector". How are you?"

"GmBH is fine Aggy, the breaker's yard took a stray hit, Charley and his lads got out as soon as the Harbourians arrived."

"Have you got any place to put the Harbourian marines and the Riders' crews?"

"We could put them out at the farms if they have shelter. There's plenty of water. How many? Fifteen hundred?"

"That's about right. Can someone shuttle up and start getting those crews off. Tell them I'm not going to play nice with them. I'll kill the bloody lot of them at the first sign of trouble and I don't care about collateral damage. Also I'm resuming my role as GmBH MD. Is Angie Merton there? Good put her on ... Hello Angie ... We lost Cowboy ... Thank you ... Are you still with MFH? ... Good. Get onto your people because I am declaring salvage over the whole planet and I want an inventory of what I've got ... Stop spluttering Angie. Get a good set of binocs; Hugh has one, go outside and look up to where the BCs were and you will see us. If you look over to the transports you might see "Shriek" but I doubt it. Its called 'force majeure' or recapturing prizes or salvage. Brown Hollow removed recognition of Grenoble Government in exile. He booted us out of RMN and discharged the others. We registered the ships – not "Shriek" she's not on anybody's books – in Madigar and I got letters of marque as a privateer. The ships were sold to Fergusons which is my company as you know. Oh! Its too long; can you start working on it from "Trader" or your office?"

"The office would be better, I've got the staff there."

"I'll send down the relevant papers to you at MFH; but the first thing you do is notify MFH Settlement to contact Foreign Office that I, as a foreign national, have recaptured the planet, Gorgipest, as a prize and I am declaring salvage. Got that?"

"Aggy, you had better know what you are doing because I don't but I'll get on to it. Its going to be an interesting ride. Who do I have to tell about Cowboy?"

"Get MFH to contact Admirals Diana Halliday and Silas Rowan to inform Shelly Indira and be very careful, she just tubed their baby son before he left. After Shelly is told and the others reassured, MFH can leak the salvage story. Now give me Hugh again ... Hugh, we lost eighty nine locals with "Vector". If I send a list, can you do the notifications? ... Good man! We will have to get together face to face soon but first things first; get those Harbourian marines under control. Any trouble with them contact us and we'll deal with it. Clear...

 ... Com, get captains on Tabes private. Slow, Denny, Polack, here's the story..."

McCock then took them a step at a time explaining how they had ended up as mere employees of HMS McCock once again and he was a privateer who claimed the whole of Gorgipest as a recaptured prize and declared salvage on it. He ended, "Angie Merton was at GmBH. I've asked her to message MFH in Settlement to pass the word to Shelly. I suspect the disaster here is known and our timing put us right in the bucket. We need bunkerage. Polack, try to reach them, if they are still active get us bunkered up asap. If no reply send a work boat to recce. I don't think the Harbourians are coming back, this was most probably a raid but I'm not going to bet on that just yet. All of you keep one gun mount closed up at full readiness, there's a battalion of Harbourian marines dirtside and they might need convincing. Hugh is going to deal with the transports. Denny contact Hugh to get someone onto torpedo replenishment. Slow take over command of the squadron. Once bunkered recall "Shriek" and rotate crews. We are going to work her hard so if you have any "Shriek" trained on board over here please. Questions later. Clear".



-------

Chapter 64



The disaster at Gorgipest had burst over the faxes on Settlement. The Brown Hollow government fell. The old team were back at the Admiralty. People with relatives or friends on Gorgipest were worried. There was a number of women on Settlement who had partners and friends on 119. They were worried almost literally sick at the lack of news plus the added worry of a babe orphaned before its birth and the prospect of children never knowing a father. There were glaring gaps in the knowledge of the women about the others.

For one of them, the news came quicker than for the others. Shelly knew immediately when she saw the grim faces of Diana, Silas and the Chaplain who had married Cowboy and her. Rowan gave what little comfort he could,

"It was quick, Shell. He took out a Harbourian BC and a CL got a broadside into "Vector". "Vector" blew apart. No survivors."

"The others?" Shelly quietly asked,

"They are uninjured. MFH got messages from their people in 'Pest but we don't have any more details yet."

"Well at least he will have some uncles and an aunt. Can we tell Trudi and 'Mina? I'll com them now, please."

She talked to them without mentioning Cowboy. Then accompanied by the Chaplain she made her way to the centre to sit with her son.

Trudie realised first; she hurriedly commed 'Mina who was just realizing she was puzzled about the lack of mention of Cowboy. Trudie got 'Mina to sit by her phone while she commed Diana who had been trying to reach them. Diana didn't know where Shelly had gone – Trudie did, collected Mina and joined Shelly and her son. As darkness fell, her friends took Shelly to her home and stayed with her for some time. They alternated residences for while until the trio decided for their mutual support whatever happened, they would reside together for as long as this war lasted. They purchased a three apartment building with secure grounds in which the women and their children could relax and have a place for the men folk when they returned. They were pleased they had implemented that decision early because the details of a modern charge into the "valley of death" sent the faxes into further paroxysms following the headlines of Cunningham at Comalee.

Several days after Admiral Higgins's report, one of the first decisions to be made by Sir Thomas Cassimatis was one of the most painful.

"There is nothing there to protect according to Admiral Higgins and his tapes support that view. Until the rest of this mess can be stabilized, I don't have anything spare for what is a low priority task and it would have to be a BC squadron at least because I don't know what the Harbourians have left behind or are doing with it."

Sir Thomas had no sooner made that decison when the Foreign Office contacted him reporting that privateers sailing in Madigar registered ships with Madigarian letters of marque had recaptured Gorgipest and had declared it "salvage". Could Sir Thomas cast any light upon this particularly in view of the lurid stories appearing in the faxes. The privateer commodore's name is HMS McCock and the FO regards the initials as unfortunate.

Sir Thomas got an aide to do it. Sir Laurence had not yet resumed duties but was expected in the next few days. His secretary, Lt Sally McGraw, had moved back at Sir Laurence's request. Sally had a vested interest in finding out, so a certain part of her work was directing her subordinates to follow up the leads. Personnel files from this office. References to the Naval Histories to learn the fate of the ships of 119. Enquires of Cdr Thoreau led to Marine and Navagation and Treasury. Register of Mountserrat Companies and Register of Foreign Companies provided more information. The facts in Settlement were collated just in time for Sir Laurence's return. The completion required knowledge of the events on Gorgipest. Discreet courteous enquires of MFH who seemed to be the source of what knowledge there was, was met with an equally courteous response which in effect said "Blow smoke".

Sir Thomas became a bit concerned when Sir Laurence specifically identified Aggy and the Flock. According to the 'faxes one of the V and Ws was lost with all hands. It was rumoured the Captain had been Sabajhi Indira. His wife could not be found for comment. The Crown Solicitor was consulted. All this had taken time, actually extra time, because the Admiralty and the Foreign Office were stretched almost beyond their limits dealing with the aftermath of the Brown Hollow government and the Naval disaster which followed.

Sabajhi Indua jr was just crawling when the matter of Gorgipest and salvage was passed to the Navy Board. MFH had on two occasions approached the Admiralty Court to have Gorgipest condemned as a prize. Each time the Crown Solicitor had intervened claiming prerogative. The faxes had got hold of it and the adverse headlines had distracted the government and things had been let slide. The Crown was forced to fob off the faxes by asking the Supreme Court for an opinion.

The two wives were in contact with their husbands and Slow. Sally had reopened private coms with Harryoh Avers. The women got together socically at "The Residence", and were served food and beverage by slender persons of Indo-chin origins who also attended the grounds and periodically wandered about carrying little black boxes. The ladies shared their information which did permeate further but not much further. The ladies were far better informed then the Navy Board.

The Navy Board had no idea of the extent of the full activities at Gorgipest.

The Chief Justice continued,

"Unconfirmed reports claim that the Commodore has organized the imprisonment of the Republic of Harbouria Marine battalions and the crews of the transports. Further much later reports claim that he is directing salvage operations and ship construction.

These reports if true would indicate that the Commodore has effective control of Gorgipest.

Without discussing "Salvage" or recaptured prize at this point, the Judges accept the situation is one of "military salvage". There has long been a principal under the law of nations, that recaptured maritime property be restored to its original owners and that the salvors be rewarded except in the case of recaptured neutrals. Where the recaptor is a Royal ship of war, the reward is one sixth of the value of the hull and its contents. Where the recaptor is a privateer, the usual rules of salvage apply, that is the court would, at its discretion award such proportions as it deems appropriate. The factors which will influence such an award will include, the number of lives in immediate peril or in a position of difficulty and reasonable apprehension; similarly for the value of the property, the danger faced by the recaptor, the success of the recapturing efforts etcetera.

Whilst your court could not, in law, condemn Gorgipest as a prize, the court would countenance an award in salvage up to the value of the property salved.

The property involved is certainly the orbital yards. Property on the planet is not usually considered as salved but in this instance maritime elements of enemy land forces were in control until the privateer overwhelmed the enemy maritme forces.

Whilst the Commodore, HMS McCork, is in effective control of Gorgipest and has been for some year and a half, by claiming salvage he is recognising the Crown's title and in effect asking for a just reward."

"Thank you Chief Justice. The Commissioners need to discuss this." the Queen said. The Chief Justice bowed to his Sovereign and departed.

"Brown Hollow withdrew recognition of Grenoble Government –in-exile," Willie Bruce reminded them, "making them a privateer fleet."

His brother, Blue Hills, added,

"While all bar one of the crews were Mountserrians, the crews were the employees of the one, a Grenoble; he got them to sign articles before joining."

"Andrew" snapped the Queen, "Stop confusing us with more facts, I want advice; I want it quickly so I can put this matter behind us. It is a distraction we cannot afford and the faxes are loving every turn and twist of it."

"Negotiate" stated the Chancellor "Its only money and my spies tell me that McCock has led a splendid salvage effort to restore those yards."

Sir Thomas nodded,

"I have an official report form Senior Naval Officer that he has an SD and three BCs almost ready. More are close to ready but he reports he has a severe manpower shortage in addition to the technical people Admiral Higgins evacuated."

"They lost Cowboy."

The voice did not come from the table; the Lords and Ladies turned to the speaker. Sally had stood and approached the table behind Diana and repeated,

"They lost Cowboy"

Elizabeth looked sternly at the interruption,

"Yes, that happens in combat."

Sally went on,

"Those five were inseparable. They started together as the 'Crypt' at Wep Dev, they went to Gorgipest as the Flock, they developed the HAC, they developed the hypercabable HAC, they blew a Battle Class CA apart, they went to Paracelsus in 119 and at the last back to Gorgipest where Cowboy was killed in combat. I have a vested interest in that group; I lived and fought with them for while. I probably know Aggy better than anyone outside the Flock and the Avers Four. Their contributions have been significant, their loyalty unswerving and the rewards and recognition zilch, zero, nada! They were badly hurt when they got dismissed out of hand, and despite that they saved Gorgipest. I've studied the tapes from"Shriek"..."

The Board erupted with sound which Sally waved down, they were the uppermost level of leadership in the kingdom but Sally McGraw had the bit in her teeth and she just waved them to silence and went on,

" ... and each one of the Flock must have known that CL would get one or more of them but they didn't flinch from the run past the BCs. If Felix Arbuthson hadn't moved up in "Shriek" and taken out the CL that CL would probably have taken out another three of the DDs- they were helpless. It was pure bad luck that CL was so good and at that point. Aggy had thought of it but had to place "Shriek" initially where he did because he had to have real time position reports on the BCs - but they didn't waver. Not a jot. They knew the chances but the survivors aren't thinking that way. There've lost a large part of themselves forever and, Your Majesty, you will have some hard bargaining."

Blue Hills softly asked Sally

"Commander, would you allow me to see the tapes please?"

"I'll ask Shelly and contact your office. Suit, my Lord.?"

Blue Hills nodded.

"How is Shelly, Sally?" enquired Diana Halliday "I only see her occasionally now."

"I don't think she'll ever be the old Shelly. Cowboy never seeing their son twists her up but she is coping."

"Andrew", the Queen brought the meeting back to order, "a report from you with recommendations, please. Any further suggestions please..."

A further copy of those tapes had been requested. A great grand daughter had mentioned in a letter the effect they had had on her to her great grand father who had been an officer in his nation's service before moving upwards. Several craggy grimfaced officers currently serving in that Navy had examined the sequence of events and had recognized the fortitude which had enabled the attack to be contemplated in those circumstances and the courage, dedication and discipline demonstrated by the attackers. It might have been a last throw of the dice, but the actors had willingly thrown them.



-------

Chapter 65



The Navy Board would have been surprised at just what McCock and his friends had been doing.

He desperately needed crew for the surviving destroyers. "Shriek" needed to be in six places at once and the demands on that cohort were extreme.

He enlisted navy personnel who had no work with the yards in the state they were in. He took only those who would swear to his service. This did restrict his choices but he wanted no conflicts of loyalty in his ships – "You either trust me or you don't, your choice." They took their discharges from the RMN; the SNO accepting them under protest; the SNO however could not pay them, McCock could and did.

Sir Joshua and Tony Galbraith's services had been obtained to run the currency and a local treasury. Remaining public servants had protested McCock's authority.

"Look to the high orbitals. See the gun mounts. My authority, your choice."

No one had the courage to call whatever bluff McCock might have been making. The tangled wreckage of an office building was still present in the CBD – mutinous elements of the Naval Yard workforce had tried to take control when they realized that McCock had no ground elements available; McCock didn't bluff.

Once his ships were functioning at a basic level, he turned his attention dirtside. His crews needed training and that was given on the job.

He got GmBH Avers to catalogue the damage and inventory what was left. Admiral Higgins had caused as much damage as could be arranged but his time frame had been limited and sometimes pieces of the plan fell off – that stray which destroyed the Ferguson scrap yards had been meant for the destroyer dock; those docks however had sustained sideway blast damage but relatively little damage overall.

McCock told the civil authorities to get on with it and except for a very short lived mutiny, they did.

The Harbourite POWs had been shuttled well out into the farmlands where they were told to work the farms and they would eat well and so would the rest of the population or they could sit on their rear ends and get thin and get very hungry. Your choice. The reports after several months were that the POWs had become model citizens with a very good football team. Their living equipment had come from the stores on the Riders and the camp was gradually transformed into solid permanent barracks with streets, water and sewage laid. There were no guards, there was no place for them to go and it was a long walk home.

McCock was briefed by Hugh in more detail. There had been steady progress on the upgraded non hyper HAC (Armed Cutter). The prototype flight was progressing satisfactorily. The idea of extending missile controllable range had been subject to preliminary work by making a tractored missile controller into a powered unmanned vehicle rather than held by ships' tractors (KeyHAC). GmBH had worked on and completed small unmanned HAC-type real time surveillance vehicles (UVA). Both types of craft mounted small but deadly controllable missiles. The original surplus of fission piles were now fitted in the Armed Cutters, KeyHACs and the UVAs. There had been some losses in testing but here were now five Armed Cutters and five KeyHACs and nine UVAs. GmBH had aquired a further large shipment of upgraded fission piles, i/cs, and nodes. The nodes had been improved based on the work of Denny, Slow and Cowboy before the arrival of the Harbourite raid. During the briefing Wayne Burton –Avers and Toby Galbraith had joined them. After the briefing Toby enquired,

"Aggy, what's with this "salvage" business. There are rumours flying all over and Wayne's no help?"

"Don't put it on me, Toby. I know as little as you do!"

McCock contemplated them, made his decision and declared

"Toby, I'm going to need every salvage crew available. I'll contact SNO whoever he is, Approach should know who he is and we'll meet back here for dinner. We do have an Avers Chef? Good."

It was a mixed gathering in the "Trader" lounge that evening for the meal. The Chef had done well. The people retired to the more comfortable chairs of the lounge with their coffee. McCock got their attention,

"Gentlemen, as you can see this is going on vid. It is going up to ships in high orbit. All the crews are seeing it except duty crew. May I make the introductions,

Captain Dane Petersen, Senior Naval Officer.

Lt Cdr Edward Morrison, Engineering Branch.

Lt Cdr Colin Egmont, Admin HQ.

Sir Joshua and Tony Galbraith, finance.

Tobias and Tobin Galbraith, Salvage experts.

Charley, Charliboy and Bill Ferguson, onetime scrap yard owners.

Hugh, Theo, George, and Paul Avers."

Peterson interrupted,

"McCock, I am here under protest, and I want to lodge a protest at the high handed way you are recruiting my people."

"Noted Captain. I have four V and W class destroyers and one armed cutter. This constitutes the total absolute defence of this local space. As a result of the actions of the Brown Hollow government, I am a stateless person, RMN dispensed with my service and dispensed with the services of everyone of the nearly five hundred men and women I had under my command. Because of the circumstance I signed my people under articles. We arrived here to find this place abandoned by the Navy and greatly destroyed. Let me finish Captain, but let me say now that I am not looking charitably towards your Kingdom. Because the RMN does not use the Type 71 energy torpedo now, we brought them with us for destruction here. Without them those BCs would still be there or perhaps they might have left but with two marine battalions dirtside they were going to create more havoc and take a lot of prisoners and you Captain were one already on board one of those transports. The other reason those BCs aren't there is because everyone of my five hundred volunteered to take that ride with me. They are all hardened combat veterans and they knew the score, DDs against BCs. We could have loaded everybody into one ship, shifted bunkerage and departed even quieter than we came. We were only ninety per ship; normally five hundred and thirty when we were operational in Paracelsus. We are not Royal ships; we are all privateers and when we recapture prizes we get rewarded for it. That is why I claim salvage. I am taking this base over, I am going to be a tin pot dictator, I am going to get this base going again to restore its value and therefore my bargaining power and when your Kingdom comes to negotiate as negotiate they will or I'll drag them through their courts and the faxes, I'm going to put mouth mints on the end of it and I'll shove it so far up Brown Hollow he will taste it...

Now, Sir Joshua will give a brief on how we are going to set up our own financial system using "occupation currency", the banks have already had their assets frozen; frozen, not seized...

Captain, you will brief us on your damage and how you see getting yourself back into business...

Toby Senior, You'll tell us what the port has to help the Captain...

Hugh, take notice because we'll need a lot of experienced Avers to help out ... Theo you are the transport man. Get all those Harbourian shuttles organized to do the trucking. George and Paul, base yourself in 'Trader', you are the Secretariat...

Gentlemen, you are my Cabinet. Each of you will be a Minister with the necessary powers. There will be no back stabbing. Anything you can't settle quickly between yourselves refer to me. There is only one aim for this Cabinet and that is the safety and good of Gorgipest...

Sir Joshua?"

The briefing finished. Most of the participants not knowing of their role had not prepared and therefore could only give a broad overview except for the financial briefing.

The Cabinet was to again meet in two night's time for another working dinner.

Slow's voice came over the Com

"I do so love 'E' rats."

McCock was finishing an enjoyable breakfast the next morning and consulting his PDA for his scheduled tasks. Hugh and Wayne joined him. Hugh started off,

"Brown Hollow was being sidelined by Buships. What they were doing to maintain as good a fleet as possible, was running plans past the idiots as being variants of existing classes. One of their little efforts was a destroyer class, I don't remember what it started life as, but the locals refer to it as the Grendel class and a slightly larger class as Hermoine class. In fact the Grendel is an overgrown CL and the Hermoine is a young heavy cruiser. Buships got them through in the early days of Brown Hollow before their Exchequer woke up to them, so the armour on the things is thick ceramic composite – a major advance of our Armoralloy. Wayne was working on them from the beginning and he goes dreamy-eyed when he talks about them. Wayne knows where there are three hulls sitting undamaged. He wants to do a survey of part of the Navy yard to see what happened to the fourth and to the Hermoine. All planned weapons are available as they were in dirtside bunkers, same with nodes and inertial compensators. Our problem is power plants. The fusion factory got taken out by Higgins. Now we were wondering, could we pull the fusion bottles out of the Riders and use them. That way we can give you three or maybe five powerful but underpowered warships."

McCock's mind whirred and clicked hunting for the information he needed, he knew it was there somewhere so to get himself more time,

"What tonnages and more important crew numbers?"

"Grendels would come out at short six kilo tonnes, crew two ninety and the Hemoine should mass twelve with a crew of four hundred. When Buships showed the plans, I think somebody conveniently spilt some coffee over them" replied Wayne.

McCock mused,

"That is serious manning. We would have needed thirty for Shriek at two hundred and twenty tonnes, hold, let me ... got it! Wayne those, how upgraded are those fission piles?"

Wayne's eyes went blank and he came back to the present slowly,

"The specs say two twenty percent over our originals but I suspect that will be at way over the red line. Reliably I'd say one ninety five percent. Yes. The improved i/cs and the Flocks' nodes. Damn I always did suffer from tunnel vision. Aggy, let me think this through."

Wayne pulled a stylus and made a sketch on the table cloth,

"Power plant space allocated, bunkerage. Now say six fission piles giving" he referred to his PDA and wrote a figure on the cloth "That works, extra space and mass available now, more efficient and more nodes because they are compact. I'll have to check I'll have enough; the ideas of parasite multipliers. Aggy I really need to work on this."

McCock looked at him and pulled him back into line,

"Wayne, if you've got hulls going to the fitting yards it's usually nine to twelve months before launch. You've got surplus labour from the yard and you can grab the skilled people – at this stage they are just there tearing things apart. I want those ships in six, six months! You've got four days to do your redesigns and then freeze it, freeze it solid so we can get those ships. Hugh, get a look at where the other two hull are, then take Wayne over to do a quick survey to see if its worth recovering them or not. Oh, Wayne in your spare time talk with Polack, he and I were working on engine hull harmonics. Damn I'm going to miss Cowboy, he was our harmonic expert. Get on to it."

Wayne dashed off, but Hugh hesitated,

"Aggy, I'd like to conduct the Peril in Space service here in three days for Cowboy and his crew. Suit?"

"Can you vid it to the squadron? Suits!"

The "Trader's" lounge and the companionways were packed. The local stations picked it up from the vids to the squadron and rebroadcast it over the planet.

The service for those in Peril in Space was opened with the Martin Luther hymn based on Psalm 46, "A Mighty Fortress"; Hugh Avers said the opening prayer in his seldom heard rich sonorous tones; this was followed by the Issac Watts hymn based on Psalm 90, "Our God our help in ages past" which led into the Lesson which was read by Lt Cdr Gort from the bridge of "Victoria". The closing hymn was the William Whiting "For those in peril on the seas" accompanied by the haunting sounds of the brass of the Avers' Brass Band coming over the "Trader's" tannoy. The service ended with the forever remembered traditional bugle calls "The Watch is Ended" with its last rising notes holding the attention to its end.



-------

Chapter 66



Felix Arbuthson was appointed to command "Vance". He had been the only ex-RMN officer in that small fleet which had set out from Settlement.

McCock's time was much taken up with administering his small empire and getting it restarted again.

Angie Merton had received an unusual request to find cloth fabricators and to find any contractors who had supplied uniforms to RMN. She found one of each. Both had had to close down putting off staff reflecting the economy of the planet.

The rural and transport sectors had been untouched. The major blow was the unemployment suffered when the Yards were destroyed. Unskilled labour needs would be increased for some time clearing the yards; to rebuild them and to move into shipbuilding again would require the return of workers who after three or four years unemployment had lost their skills and who would be behind the times. It could become a very nasty cycle, down skilling discouraging return of investment.

There were also the younger generations having nowhere to go.

At McCock's instigation, Cdr Egmont had restarted and expanded the apprentice and trade schools at the Navy base dirtside.

McCock had had another conference which had comprised Sir Joshua Galbraith in his role of trustee, Professor Claude Décor, vice chancellor of Mountserrat University of Gorgipest Rural and Navy School, which would give basic education with a streaming available to move off to rural, trade or academia. The school to have a navy bias, of course. With the current situation, there were probably students available now to enter at all levels so the sooner it got started the better; training hands on was available and perhaps employment.

Sir Thomas had not totally abrogated his responsibilities. Cdr Laurence H Nanting in the light cruiser HMS "Forceful", some nine weeks after the Harbourian raid was dispatched to Gorgipest to investigate as fully as he could and report back. Neutral merchantmen were infrequent visitors and most had been diverted by news of the increased Harbouriaite activity but some hadn't received the news. The "Hebrides Trader II" had just cleared Gorgipest the day before the raid and had arrived in Settlement after Admiral Higgins' return there, so she was no help.

The survivors of the raid understood full well what a return of Harbourian forces would mean, but they accepted it because it was out of their control. "Shriek" was worked hard with twelve man crews being rotated daily. Pilot and Customs craft were used to extend the coverage. Two of the V and Ws were out trying to cover the pickets such as they were with one DD at four hours' notice and the fourth at twelve hours. "Offspring" was reinforced by 'nationalised' space yachts to do the running about. The Rider shuttles were kept very busy involved in the salvage of the Yards.

Nanting parked his nose in very carefully. Approach reported,

"Single hyper foot print at the limit. Went immediately into full em com and we lost him."

"Control "Victoria". Identified as Manty CL Forceful class moving to south east at one twenty gravs."

McCock was in a Cabinet meeting – again – when the reports came in. "Victoria" and "Vance" to continue their patrols. "Shriek" to intercept and introduce herself with fifteen seconds of normal active pinging – that will attract his attention and then invite him to move to the Yard to berth. Captain Peterson will meet and greet. McCock turned to his cabinet and gave them the news,

"I want that Captain to be given a full brief and his crew to spend as normal a leave here as possible. No restriction of information. In fact, plan on an invitation for that Captain to join us in the next meeting, please Dane."

The Captain and his crew had featured heavily in the local faxes informing Gorgipest on the most recent events in the Kingdom. The news of the other Harbourian raids was not a surprise but was sobering. The fall of the Brown Hollow government was saluted by many a raised glass.

Dane Petersen introduced Laurence Nanting to the cabinet. After the usual pleasant meal, the Cabinet was called to order. McCock stated,

"Commander Nanting, I hold Gorgipest by right of conquest and I will continue to hold it until such time as the courts make a just determination. If Gorgipest is retaken from me by force, which I will not oppose, I'll blacken the name of the Kingdom in every fax in the Universe. I'll fight the Kingdom in its own courts. The Queen could exercise her prerogative but that will be as great a PR disaster as the use of force...

The Avers are my employees and are more a Secretariat than pseudo ministers...

There was no governance here until I put it into place. These so called ministers have administered Gorgipest for the good of Gorgipest and I can't see any treason in that, just in case anyone should think so. I am a self appointed Governor, true, but the Queen's title and rule are recognized...

I'll leave you to be brought up to date and there are reports for you."

McCock departed with the Avers and repaired to the Warrants' Mess where they had an enjoyable evening.

Cdr Nanting was not authorized to release his code book and Captain Peterson made a pointed request for up dates with authority to pass them onto the squadron who were the space pickets.

Sir Thomas considered Nantings' report, personally interviewed and thanked him and sent "Forceful" back to normal duties to rejoin her squadron at Maureen's Moon.

The previous naval courier service to Gorgipest was restored with the up to date codes plus the routine notices that RMN generated in seemingly endless needless quantities. Being the only reliable communications between Gorgipest and Settlement, permission was given for the courier to carry the letter mails.

Silas, with Diana, informally kept the Flock in the Buships loop without disclosing secrets and McCock just commented that he was getting ship building under way but until the yard was up to a high level of restoration, the return of the evacuated experts was pointless and thus major fleet elements were not yet even on the list.

When he was able to get them freed up, Sir Thomas deployed a BC squadron to cover Gorgipest taking advantage of 119 as it was again being referred to, acting as the harbour and port picket. From time to time a BC visited reminding the 'Pests they had not been forgotten. Buships surveyors visited, examined, returned with the next courier and reported and confirmed progress.

There was no need for Silas and Diana to be cagey about Cruise missiles and Cruise missile controllers as Hugh had already known about them and thus so did the Flock. A Cruise missile magazine already existed on Gorgipest dirtside to arm the DN(N)s being built and the Cruise missile controllers were being built there. As Hugh had reported, using the original Buships authority, GmBH had developed Cruise missile controller unmanned protopype (keyHAC).

The locals had developed a closed mouth on security matters. There were the occasional breaches but nothing that specifically attracted either Mountserrat or external interest. There was ship building going on.

There was also ships fitting out and breaches about that were even less frequent.

Wayne had returned in four days, haggard and exhausted; he had given McCock a report, the summary of which was eleven pages. The bulk of the report was the heavily modified existing documents on the Grendels and Hermoine. Wayne went to bed while McCock digested the summary. Wayne's sleep was violently disturbed as he was dragged to a shuttle but allowed to sleep until transferring to "Shriek". There he found the Flock, Felix Arbuthson, Hugh Avers and Harryoh Avers. Whilst "Shriek" sauntered about the approaches, Wayne briefed them. McCock discussed the proposals and put them into a context that he had been tentatively developing. Accepting an extension out to nine months for the first ship would give a much more powerful force, but still hopeless in the event of another similar raid.

Wayne got his green light.

The hulls were towed to the cruiser fitting out yards around the planet which had been awaiting them. They were joined by the last Grendel and later the Hermoine. The work on them started but progress was very slow because of the innovations being introduced with the work force unfamiliar with them. MFH had purchased the fitting out yards for GmBH; they said as an investment with a view to Merchant Marine work when the Navy contracts expired. The owners had been pleased to sell at even the price paid by MFH.

McCock hadn't remembered that purchase in his briefings in Settlement, but was reminded by Angie at a GmBH board meeting. There would be howls of conflict of interest but no cognisance would be taken of them as he had been in Paracelsus when the fitting out yard was purchased and also when the Navy had let the contract for the fitting out of the 'DDs'.

The war news was interrupted by the news of the on again armistice whose hopes were again cruelly shattered by the renewal of hostilities.

The yards had been restored to that level needed and the experts were expected shortly.

Notification from the Admiralty had arrived of an officer from the Crown to open preliminary negotiations. The Crown accepted the claim of salvage and wished to reach a settlement to submit to the Admiralty Court.

Admiral Higgins, the officer sent, brought with him the crushing news of the battle in Mountserrat home space and the destruction of Home and Third fleets which news was to be close held.

HMS McCock re-evaluated his position and altered his proposition.



-------

Chapter 67



Two pairs of women smelled a large dead rodent when the news of the proposed settlement for salvage of Gorgipest broke. There was a suspicion that the leak came from the Palace which very pointedly indicated that it did not comment on any matter.

The survivors of what they called the "Death Ride" had spent a little of their time researching and discussing salvage in all its ramifications. They had come to a conclusion that GmBH as owner of the salving vessels was going to get a very big lion's share of the salvage awarded anyway. So Gorgipest being saved, themselves employed and fed, the lower decks had approached, though their Captains, the Commodore with an offer to determine their shares in the award in favour of those killed on "Vector" provided the award was distributed equally; the knowledge of Captain Indira's prize money was not closely held anymore. The Commodore and his Captains accepted and also determined their shares. Felix looked confusedly at everyone when told of this, saying simply,

"Underworld desist, I was only in for a ride in "Shriek" anyway ", and signed the release.

Andrew Bruce-Cunningham had told his wives and then seen Emily's face screw up in concentration and watched as Virginia began to gurgle and chortle with laughter. Virginia was the notional commander of Renmark's "Protector's Own" and she had once told Captain Michele Hawkins that Elizabeth would never get away with doing such a thing. Emily simply said that there was something missing, it was too straight forward with which Virginia agreed, when she could stop laughing. Andrew was content that his younger wife was able to smile again; he had been very troubled by the deep and profound reaction following the virtual destruction of the RMN.

Sally McGraw and Diana Halliday were enjoying a quiet time out with the ladies at "The Residence". The last months had been a sore trial to them both as they had struggled at their duties. Sally was more conversant with the details and so filled out some of the finer points. Diana agreed there was a hook buried somewhere deep in the proposition. As Sally put it,

"Its not that Aggy is as crooked as a corkscrew, but the sinuousness of his curves would keep a Mathematics department busy for a year or two."

The terms were simple.

1. A pardon for all crimes committed by any person associated with the governance of Gorgipest following the attack thereon by Republic of Harbouria forces, treason excepted.

2. Monies designated "Occupation Currency credits" be honoured by the Mountserrat Exchequer at credit for credit value (annex A)

3. One sixth of the value of the space vehicles of Gorgipest as at signing of this document plus one credit be paid in salvage to the heirs and assignees of those who died on the space vessel "Vector" during the recapture of Gorgipest.(annex B)

4. "The Queen's Own", 119 Squadron (Reinforced)

(a) Parliament authorise and fund the raising of a naval element of the PGS to be know as "The Queen's Own" and to be entered in the Navy List as "119 Squadron (Reinforced)";

(b) Parliament is to buy in for full value, the vessels held on the GmBH register at the date of signing as "119 Squadron (Reinforced)" to be the vessels of the "The Queen's own";

© the monies paid for those vessels in (b) above to be equally distributed among the survivors of the Privateer Fleet which recaptured Gorgipest (annex C);

(d) The members of the crews of the "The Queen's Own" to swear and hold allegiance to the Sovereign and their heirs and are to hold their appointments directly from the hand of the Sovereign. The uniform and rank badges of the crews are to be as depicted (annex D);

(e) Parliament to pay the crew of the "The Queen's Own" at levels equal to those of the Royal Mountserrat Navy for commensurate duties plus 10%;

(f) The present crews (annex E) of the vessels to form the "The Queen's Own" to remain as the crews and be subject to the discipline of the Navy Discipline Act and regulations (as amended from time to time) except that all disciplinary procedures are to be taken within "The Queens Own" and to be subject to review only by the Sovereign; and

(g) Parliament is to maintain the strength of the "The Queen's Own" force at its strength at time of signing.

Almost because of the recent events, the agreement quickly but not unquestioned, was passed through Admiralty, Exchequer and Parliament.

Treasury had gone over annex A which had been prepared by Sir Joshua Galbraith. It was a report on the economy of post raid Gorgipest up to five week before signing. Reports from the trading banks were included as were statements of surveys of the dock yard, and statements of auditors reinforcing the yard's finance department indicating that the economic improvement was consistent with the yard's repair costs.

Treasury confirmed that no Mountserrat currency had gone into Gorgipest. The cashing out of "Occupation Credits" would expose any large exploitations. An amendment in the official document that only banking houses registered with Treasury were to manage the exchange and thus any ill gotten gains could be seized. McCock and his advisers had agreed as they had kept a close vigilance upon transactions and any such gains were not enough to get excited over.

The Treasury signed off.

The salvage experts, treasury and MFH got into intense discussions over the value of the orbital facilities but over four weeks of long hours an agreed figure was flashed back to Settlement.

The Navy lists revealed the composition of 119 Squadron at time of decommissioning and the loss of "Vector" was noted. Buships added their information about "Shriek". Naval finance made a guess at the value of these ships making so many qualifications as to render the estimate worthless. It was noted that reports from Gorgipest stated all four had undergone major overhauls.

The House of Lords was finding the idea of a Naval extension to the PGS a very difficult meal to swallow. The Commons was ambivalent but it liked to twist the Lords' tails. Legal contacts were made and on a purely informal basis it was pointed out that the Admiralty Courts would look very favourably indeed at a GmBH salvage claim and that the maximum that could, could mind you, be awarded was up to the maximum of the property value. This was most unlikely to happen but...

A small piece of legislation including the terms of the salvage was drafted and passed within a week.

It was delivered to the place for the Royal Assent and awaited only McCock's presence.

Sir Thomas had very early dispatched a flotilla of destroyers to take up picket duty at Gorgipest and allow the privateer fleet to journey to Settlement.

McCock appeared the day after the legislation reached the Palace. He had been loitering off the traffic lanes at the hyper limit awaiting MFH's message. He travelled in "Shriek" to the Navy yards and was met by Silas and Diana. PGS shuttle to the Palace where he was greeted by a large PGS major who shook his hand, took his baggage and muttered, almost with a smile

"Cheeky bugger," and noted the almost smile in return.

The room was not quite full; it was a small room and a path had to be left for McCock to walk up to the table at which the Queen was seated. McCock wore the Mess undress of a Lieutenant Commander Grenoble Defence Force which caused a large smile to crack the face of Commander Thoreau who was in civilian garb.

McCock saluted and broke his salute as the Queen nodded.

The Queen placed the Instrument at the edge of her table and requested Her Prime Minister and Her First Lord of the Admiralty to sign.

McCock was then requested to sign.

The Queen retrieved the document and formally signed the instrument into law.

McCock bowed to the Queen and retreated to where the Major was holding a uniform coat. McCock exchanged coats and dressed in the uniform of Commodore of "The Queen's Own" –how fortunate was it that "The Queen's Own" uniforms bore resemblances to those of GDF – he returned to stand before the Queen again. The Major fiddled with a com unit on the corner of the desk, spoke quietly into it and nodded to McCock who had retrieved a parchment from the other corner of the desk.

McCock then swore his alliegence to Queen Elizabeth III and her heirs in company with a rumble of voices echoing him from his ships.

When completed, McCock saltuted his Soveign and said simply

"Your Majesty."

Elizabeth smiled graciously, rose and stood beside her Commodore,

"Allow me to introduce some people you don't know."

She introduced Willie Bruce, then Andrew Bruce Cunningham and then his wife Virginia Bruce Cunningham. They exchanged a little more than just the pleasantries,

"It's been a long time, Cadet McCock"

"It has indeed, Cadet Cunningham Ma'am"

"Cadet, I have a puzzle which I believe you can resolve for me."

"Almost anything I can do to help, Ma'am"

"I have not been able to obtain a copy of the GmBH Register which is up to date. The copies from MFH are all dated from just prior to the raid upon Gorgipest. I have been too busy over the past months or so to further my enquiries but having you here now and with you deployed to my fleet I have a desire to know exactly what you have for me".

McCock began to grin,

"You know Ma'am, you are the first to ask me that."

So saying, he removed an old issue RMN notebook from his coat breast pocket and passed it to her. Admiral Cunningham flicked over the first pages and then frowned as she proceeded. There weren't many pages with entries. The entries themselves were brief, restricted to the name and class. She looked at McCock and cocked her head at him. He passed her a chip. As she placed it into her PDA she made her excuses to the Queen,

"Excuse me, Your Majesty,"

To which Elizabeth nodded and then watched as the Admiral's eyes widened, looked up at McCock's straight face, looked back to her PDA, started to grin, then to chuckle and then to laugh. To everyone's astonishment, the Admiral took her Sovereign by the arm saying,

"He's just improved my fleet strength by three to five percent," causing the First Lord's head to come around; she led Elizabeth off to the side to explain.

There was a bit of explaining to do and McCock spent a torrid time for the next hour or so explaining.



-------

Chapter 68



That register contained the names of eleven warships plus numerous attached vessels which no one had heard about.

Wayne Burton Avers had built new warships but based on centuries old concepts long forgotten.

The three hulls were retrieved from where they had been abandoned in space when the raid had begun. They were taken to the GmBH fitting out yards and the real work began. The three were later joined by the fourth hull and the Hermoine.

Wayne had realized that even eight let alone six fission piles were considerably smaller than the fusion battles planned. The lack of bunkerage gave much added space. Although the yard's 'puters had been destroyed, sitting innocently in the "Trader's" Crew Mess sat the "black 'puter" onto which had been downloaded the Naval architecture files. He had quickly blocked out on the 'puter the amended power plant space. He cast a very acquisitive eye over the surviving equipment available on the planet and found BC (N) 'puter systems. Cowboy's favoured twin laser point defence weapons were available as were CL gun mounts. But most of all he lusted after the Cruise missiles. The upgraded HACS (Armed Cutters) did not have Cruise missile controller capability but some unmanned vehicles were powered cruise missile controllers and Hugh had five of them on hand.

Compromise, compromise,

"Shriek" wiring was the basis for the added runs in the harnesses already to hand. A local manufacturer ran them up and then blended them with the planned harnesses.

The counter missiles remained as planned.

Point defence laser twin turrets replaced the slower firing single tube weapon of DDs – there was almost too much power available – which comment had amused Polack no end.

There was the space for almost a heavy cruisers' missile load except they were Cruise missiles.

The boat bays expanded to take the Armed Cutter, just. Denny, Slow and Polack visited and consulted while McCock kept his hours in command spread over his various charges. Polack and McCock worked on the hull tuning until they realized that any improvement over hole-in-space shields would be marginal and they wouldn't have the time to iron out the problems. Go with what is proven. Standard Period active scanning was fitted. Tabes was up graded to FTL.

In space, the Flock had turned on Felix and subjected him to a four on one Crusher course. Felix accused the Flock of being denizens of the underworld. He satisfactorily completed it but he claimed after that he must have been listening to tapes while he was asleep as he didn't remember being awake for the four months of it. Even while patrolling, the spacers were driven hard and to show potential was only to be driven harder.

The crews of the Privateer Fleet were approaching peacetime establishment when "Grendel" was launched and their compliments plummeted as they were stripped for "Grendel's" crew. There were numerous minor defects discovered during the trial which were corrected; the biggest one was that Wayne had literally forgotten to mount a KeyHAC on external davits. He had the remote contols for it in the simulator. This restricted its use to simulations but fleet exercises and single ship operations could be performed without them – and they were.

The lessons learnt were implemented in the next constructions.

During the last of the shortened trial McCock sent "Washton" in for a six month overhaul and refit. Polack and McCock then continued the work up of "Grendel" out in home space on patrols.

"Washton's" crew had a month's leave and were, on return, spread among the others.

Recruiting was becoming harder as the Navy Yard began to soak up the unemployed.

Polack and McCock wrote the manuals for the 'Grendels' to follow and Polack took command of "Grendel".

Two Harbourian light cruisers, wanting no trouble, visited to see what had happened to their rear guard.

"Vance" was on patrol to the south west just about to return on that leg,

"Target one seven zero, zero eight zero, one point five mega k unidentified tracking two zero zero level two hundred gravs."

"Captain we have unidentified target to the south west at slow speed"

"Captain on the bridge"

"EW, any more?"

"Sir, identified as two Harbourian light cruisers in tight company; I've also got "Grendel" off to the south at extreme range."

""Grendel","Vance""

""Vance", "Grendel""

""Grendel we have a contact east of you above the plane moving nor nor west at two hundred gravs, two Harbourian CLs "Vance"".

""Vance" We'll increase to eighty percent and track just north of east; direct us at them,"Grendle"".

Arbuthson slowed "Vance" as he watched the CLs continue their advance towards him."Grendel" firmed up on the screen.

""Vance", were've got them now. You move over to the east to be in a position to cut them off. I intend moving south of them and engage with missiles at medium range. I'm putting up the cutter ahead of me to cover the south east "Grendel"."

Minor alterations to courses were made to allow the CLs to pass planet side of "Vance". "Grendel" moved into position and fired two pairs of missiles. The missiles had covered nearly half the distance when the CLs began rapidly accelerating. The most planet ward of the CLs took his two up the kilt and disappeared. The survivor went hard right at the very last moment to break the missiles lock and then yawed left and rolled to present his sidewall to the explosion of the missiles. It worked but it put "Vance" on his bow inside energy torpedo range as he yawed back to make off to the east. Felix timed it and two type 53 torpedoes sliced between the shields and that CL joined its compatriot.

""Vance", thank you, continue your patrol. I'll put the cutter to look for survivors. "Grendel" out."

The type 53 was a dreadnought weapon of recent development with a powerful warhead and very high acceleration. Type 71 were no longer in production and a Gunnery P02 Bert Williamson had resolved the problem of fitting the 53 into the older larger 71 tubes by the use of discarding circles of ceramic acting as large washers encircling the weapons. This had been the first test in anger and it worked as predicted.

"Grendel" was blooded but the missiles had failed to follow the Harbourian on its last desperate manoeuvre. Back to the 'puters. The fault as such was identified in that the missile was not that manoeuvrable. It was designed for wall of battle engagements and had counter counter measures built in. The simulators were fired up and phantom runs made with the ship's 'puter riding the missile into target. It was found that the BC (N) 'puter was not quite up to that aspect in change of direction but it was still much faster than a human response. More for the manuals.

The personnel ship training went on. The first candidates were out of the officer courses and moving into command duties. The engineering stream had to spend considerable time dirtside at MUGC but that was unavoidable. The other streams' cross training in engineering was managed on board.

"Washton" came out of refit and McCock put her through her trials with Bert Willamson as his understudy and assistant.

"Gorgon" came up for her trials and Denny took her, "Warburton" going in for refit.

"Giant" was ready before McCock was so he held her with a skeleton crew until "Gorgon" worked up.

"Victoria" was still in her major when Admiral Higgins arrived but the remainder of the 119 Squadron (Reinforced) was operational. McCock had had the Avers fit out the Riders as Fleet Underway Repair ships. "Victoria" came off her trials in time to journey to Settlement and loiter at the hyper limit for a day. Harryfour who had "Warburton" was heard to remark that at times during the past two years he had thought of going to find a Harbourian DN or two to fight just to relax.

"The Queen's own" 119 Squadron (Reinforced) PGS consisted of;

"Vector" Homoine Class CL Commodore H McCock

"Gremlin" Grendle class DD Captain Gort

"Gorgon" Grendle class DD Captain Denholt

"Grendle" Grendle class DD Captain Kowalski

"Giant" Grendle class DD Captain Arbuthson

"Vance" V & W class DD Captain P. Lowell

"Victoria" V & W class DD Captain H Grant

"Warburton" V & W class DD Captain H Avers

"Washton" V & W class DD Captain A. Williamson

(R1 Rider FURS Master Timothey Avers*)

(R2 Rider FURS Master Desmond Avers*)

(* under charter from GmBH)



-------

Chapter 69



"This McCock fellow seems a bright young man. I like his ideas."

Sir Victor Carlton glanced across at his putative commanding officer as that person flicked across the screen in his PDA.

"And why's that Sir?"

Captain acting Commodore Peter Scott RMN shifted his eyes to look at the other occupant of the office. Carlton was tinkering with the entrails of the desk's 'puter,

"You will be able to put that back together again, won't you, Chief? I might need it from time to time for things like planning ops and perhaps checking on the Wings' maintenance."

Carlton looked equally firmly back,

"Young? He's older that the Admiral, not by much, though; he graduated a year behind her."

"Oh so you have an interest? What sparked yours?"

"I take the odd glass with friends from time to time over at the Mess at "Styx". I got talking with a couple of Avers, local lads. The Senior Avers on Mountserrat, keep in touch with their lot in Gorgipest. Got quite worried after the Harbourian Raid. Not much in the faxes about it but seems someone they called 'the Cockerel' who from what they say must have a hard time walking about because of the size of his brass ones, really pulled some cindered chestnuts out of the fire. Blasted a Harbourian BC squadron with lightning bolts, rebuilt the yards, made himself a personal fleet, and sails off to lay it at the Queen's feet. Thought it was a line of BS until "The Queen's Own" joined".

He snorted,

"119 Squadron (Reinforced), my painful ass! That's an independent raider group; and its so called Commodore is one Hezbedick Mathius Samuel McCock. My contacts in Personnel had never heard of him. They looked him up and the only thing they could find was an entry that said refer all enquires to Second Space Lord. My friends aren't like me, they can't leave a thing alone so a good friend of mine, a Senior Chief Warrant, got Sir Laurence's secretary aside and asked her. The next thing he knew he was in front of Sir Laurence himself getting a new one. Left it alone after that. I then wandered down to the library and pulled the Academy's list of graduated and there he was, HMS McCock, third in his year. Grenoble Defence Force. The GDF has been non existent for about six decades and the man is only forty nine. Out of pure curiosity you understand, I don't like people who one-up their friends, I looked up Who's Who in Mountserrat. There he is. Not an entry for himself – his parents, refugees from Grenoble, eventual owner of several large buildings downtown CBD Settlement, and the Bollard Line. Now they'll never take over 'Peninsula' but Bollard are serious players. Remember up at Raffles, we saw more that just an occasional merchie of theirs. HMS McCock recorded as only son and heir. Older parents. Heard he had a nickname "Aggy" at Sandhurst College. Had an idea and tracked down RMA&M and there he was again. There are all sorts of rumours about him. After Sandhurst College he drops off the face of the galaxy. Rumours he reappears a decade later and puts in a decade up in Paracelsus on convoy duty. There's a story that one of the shipmates elopes with Augustus's grand daughter – since we're not at war with the Amiranti I don't believe that one. Funny thing is that 119 DD Squadron was up there at that time. Disappears again and now commands 119 Sqdn (Reinforced) which just so happen has four of the original five which were broken up. No, Sir, I'm not curious about him, I just want to know who's watching my flank."

"I've heard a lot of rumours too. Had you heard those Riders he's got are crewed by mostly retired Avers. There is some very serious talent there and the boast is they can repair anything. I was in command centre other day, and a spare screen was on a Rider. A 'Grendel' heaves alongside; the boat bay opens and out come this thing, an armed cutter its carried as. For half an hour or so its worked on and then goes off at a fair clip. We follow it out to the Training Area, not literally, on the screen. It gets up to six forty and then it disappears, just like that. I'm beginning to panic. It reappears just crossing out of PRD, returns to its boat bay, the lid closes and off goes the 'Grendel'. That got my interest. I went to visit and find out what's going on. Can't get an invitation. So I get into the 'puters – nothing. I got the same idea as you. 119. Found that Gold Roper was the last and just about the only RMN commanding officer. Looked up Gold Roper in the Journal; with a co – author one HMS McCock. Evan was a quite competent captain but a deep thinker he was not. McCock wrote this."

Scotty passed over the PDA and Carlton read the summary slowly. Carlton observed,

"Gravity projectiles won't work in space I'm told, and throwing them at a wall, they bounce off. I like the multiplier effect of a single specialised parasite though..."

Listening to rumour and ascertaining fact from fiction becomes important to governments. There are electorates whose voters are swayed in their opinions by the perceived morals of their representatives. There must be many in every society for otherwise how would some newsfaxes survive. The swaying or even rotating of a politician can prevent a government from having legislation passed. Thus knowledge yet again becomes power. Thus it was that the DNI had an appointment with her Chief of Counter Intelligence.

"Come in Sam. What troubles the Kingdom that you leave your burrow in broad daylight?"

"Perusing an old file and interesting new information" returned the CCI, placing a chip before her which was fed into a slot.

Petra Dawsen perused the file. CCI passed her another which did cause a reaction,

"Our Sally?" CCI nodded. The file was read and another chip was passed; Petra put it on her screen and looked enquiringly at her CCI,

"The mother and the great grandmother." Dawsen finished the last file and asked,

"Why do I hold grave suspicions that you are about to spring something? Is it because I know you don't have a salacious neuron in your brain?"

"The father is the same man," at which Dawsen flinched slightly and then went on "and we are fairly, no, almost certain he has no knowledge of them."

The DNI continued to look at him.

"Because he had done nothing in regard to the mothers or the boys. Petra the man is a misanthrope, brilliant brain, but still a misanthrope. Driven as they often are by duty, absolutely loyal and careful, in the strictest sense of that word, of his friends and those who help him. Had he known about the sons he would have provided for them. He might not have ever been a father to them but he would have provided for them and probably their mothers and he hasn't"

"Your assessment Sam?"

"There is absolutely no security risk. The women would not submit to blackmail and the release of the knowledge would not harm the boys. The father would likely tear a blackmailer apart – there was a sniff of a sudden disappearance when his friend married Augustus's great grand daughter. Because of what he is and the enemies he has in the House of Lords, there is room for political damage to the Government."

"Thank you, Sam. I wish sometimes my sense of humour was just a little more robust or perhaps a bit twisted I might see the funny side. I am going to check this one and pass it up to my superior officer."

"My fellow lords and ladies I put interesting news which has a bearing on local events before you. Here is the summary."

The Navy Board was meeting informally in Petra's office at her invitation. Not a rare event when some intelligence needed lack of official recognition.

"Political" decided Sir Thomas, "I don't want this. I'll pass it up to Willie; orally. Destroy all these please Petra, and tell Sam Costello if this gets out I'll bury him in his basement."

"Mr Costello, Blue Hills, be at the India Lock gate at 1410 today. You have a private audience with the Queen and no I don't know what is about."

"Good morning Aunt Caitlin. You look spry this morning."

"Elizabeth?"

"It seems that Uncle Anton, long before he met you, had an affair with..."

"Oh that!! Nancy Alma Nancarrow?! I'm very grateful to her; never met her though. She taught him all he knew and I reaped the benefits. Oh don't look so scandalous. You do know about the birds and the bees? You must do, you have children. What makes you bring it up now for goodness sake?"

Elizabeth told her.

"Humm, never acknowledged, wrong side of the blanket so not really a threat to the Earldom. The last one – busy little thing isn't she? So what are you going to do about it? I'd recommend doing nothing. Let them sort it out as they want to."



-------

Chapter 70



"Caine? Peter Scott. Carlton and I want to see the Admiral, unofficially, next couple of days if you could find a time? Can't do it? Let me think."

Scotty turned to Carlton and got inspiration,

"When does she go to Gym? Ask her if she will have an informal chat with Carlton who will just happen to be getting fit again."

"Admiral" started Carlton as he passed a towel "Scotty coached me what to say." Carlton took a deep breath, looked upwards, closed his eyes and began,

"Commodore McCock has written a paper which appeared in the Journal. On the "Death of the Battleship"; co-authored with Earl Gold Roper. The Commodore is working on plans to modify his Riders into nest carriers. Aubrey Wamirant has them already in service. My Lady, Scotty says it will only take six weeks to get it together."

"Your Majesty,"

"Andrew". Elizabeth indicated the side table which had been prepared for an afternoon tea.

They took their places and the Queen decanted the beverage into delicate porcelain cups decorated by the personal arms of the House of Winsor. Both enjoyed the first taste of the delicate flavours of the brew; Andrew sniffed appreciatively the aroma. The cups were returned to saucers and placed gently on the table top. They relaxed back into the surprisingly comfortable delicate chairs.

"I wonder how much of my Kingdom's affairs are conducted by pillow talk," began the Queen, "particularly when my First Lord of the Admiralty, incidentally married to my only Admiral of the Fleet, asks for an informal audience about a possible operation of war. Those are matters which are handled by my Admiralty. So I suspect it is convoluted and nobody wants to make a decision. That is not like my Admiralty. So?"

Andrew had a small smile on his face,

"It's actually all Sir Victor Carlton's fault. He listens to things and can put them together. He bounced this one off Scotty who got it to Virginia, very unofficially, who looked into it as best she could and put it to me in our official personas. Working from the top down I have managed to pull the lid off a sewer. The ramifications are rather widespread and I'm afraid not good. It began when "The Queen's Own" appeared. Victor and Scotty got curious about McCock, as Carlton says he wanted to know who was covering his flank. Scotty investigated the more academic aspects and Carlton went after the more personal. McCocks' paper on "The Death of the Battleship" in the journal had been studied by them. Scotty borrowed time on one of the simulators and Carlton and he war gamed it using what goodies we now have plus a couple of the proposed ones in the paper. The pair of them got it to Virginia by back channel. Virginia invited the Commodore to an informal chat on her flagship. She can't explain why but she kept it one on one; not even Caine was present. McCock's plan, he says is based on a pre-Diaspora operation. By a surprise attack, first nation destroyed second nation's wet navy capital ships placing second nation on the back foot. A reserve officer carries out a plan using something like a CVHAC with parasites much larger than usually mounted. The CVHAC advances towards first nation and the parasites carrying gravity explosives of very low yield pass over several first nation cities catching first nation by surprise. The actual damage done was insignificant but the moral effect was huge. McCock has been working on this since he was in Paracelsus; he had that armed cutter of his and he predicted Recon Drone and Cruise missile. He got onto Cruise missile in Gorgipest – there was a store of them there which Higgins missed. That's how "The Queen's Own" has them hanging off their signal lights. Virginia pointed out the difficulty of getting a force of sufficient size in undetected. Virginia said McCock went into schoolmaster mode. The Riders, well out beyond the hyper limit and detection range throw out a Fleet load and a replenishment load of Cruise missiles. They are fired in the direction of a target and then shut down to continue ballistic – several days out. They are accompanied by a number of Cruise missile controllers which have been made mobile and manoeuvrable escorted by "The Queen's Own" of which "Vector" and the 'Grendles' have BC (N) 'puters capable of controlling the Cruise missiles via the powered unmanned Cruise missile controllers, KeyHACs. Up to date information is needed to be fed into the Cruise missiles. This is where the sewer lid lies. Your personal fleet has capabilities which do not exist anywhere in your Navy with one exception. Commodore Bender had it on "Mountserrat"; he was with Home Fleet and didn't take a hit. How he got it is another very interesting story. "The Queen's Own" make themselves into holes-in-space and now I know why that "Death Ride" of the original 119 was even thought feasible. They also have an active detection system which itself is undetectable. To continue with the operational side for the moment. McCock is working on plans for his Riders but they are six months to a year away. He is nearly ready to begin modifying them. He was working on the op plan whenever he could but he and his Flock have another major distraction, which I'll leave for the time being. This is where Carlton gets involved. He doesn't know about "The Queen's Own" capabilities but as I said Scotty and he did some war games at a time Carlton got the last piece of the jigsaw. When Virginia was up in Paracelsus on "Fairpath", Carlton helped a kid named Aubrey Wamirant. Wamirant is an electronic genius and he was that good the system failed him. Everyone he served under wanted to keep him as an electronic technician so instead of sending him to OCS, he was promoted. In the RMN he is Master Chief Warant Officer at an unbelievably young age. He ends up at the Trade School. He gets frustrated and takes a Renmark commission as Lt Cdr. They put him to work on a project of Virginia's to build passive nest carriers. I say passive because she just improved on the present Fleet Replenishment Ships. Instead of having general cargo vessels the idea was to leave the hull plates off, have a skeleton on which everything hung and a framework to attach two fleet loads of nests, which could be just released. The idea was then for Capital Ships with necessary 'puter power to take them under control. Did away with time consuming transfer from FRS to ships' magazines or for tractoring nests which is relatively restricting. Wamirant thinks he can do better. He can and convinces Mathews. The 'Vulcans' are now true warships. The nests can now be fired directly from the 'Vulcans'. Target information can be fed directly into the missiles and updated until firing. Once fired Cruise missile controllers on tractors as then envisaged took over. McCock has gone off to his experts, Denholt and Gort. Wamirant did not put any EW on the 'Vulcans'; he wasn't thinking of taking them into energy ranges as McCock was examining. Appears that 119's capabilities can be fitted to the 'Vulcans' in a matter of days. Incidentally, both Scott and Carlton want a piece of the action. Virginia pointed McCock at them and they are now seconded to "Vector". As an aside, Virginia thinks you should sort out Carlton and Wamirant. "The Queen's Own" runs its own OCS and Crusher. Millicent Utah and Anne Jones have had discussions with Lt Cdrs Kowalski and Arbuthson and are impressed. They have the files and are going over it more closely...

McCock says a raid on the Harbouria Home Fleet would result in comparable damage to what we suffered. There is minimal risk. "The Queen's Own" is the only unit which can do it. This comes from your Home Fleet Commander who has the authority to mount raids without reference to the Admiralty. Except for the rather breathtaking choice of targets and anticipated results, it is just another deep raid similar to what Virginia had been undertaking with Eighth Fleet...

Now the Sewer...

The hole-in-space was developed by Denholt and Gort with input form the late Sabijhi Indira whilst they were in Weapons' Development under Silas Rowan. This was before the war originally began. Navy takes the modification to the manufactures of the electronic warfare equipment. They won't do it claiming breach of patents. Our EW improves by leaps and bounds anyway and we are offered in the here and now excellent equipment and the manufacturers say they can't divert the resources to research and develop the modification. Counter intelligence reports there has been no leak but reverse engineering attempts are in full swing. Then news comes in that the chip which is the main part of the modifications is no longer being made; it was of Sol origin. So that one drops off the tree. Bonder is hounding Milligan and Rowan to get things moving on it, but it now seems to be a dead horse except that a little bird the size of Rowan tells me there is a firm on Gorgipest which is making the chip under the counter for GmBH but they are too small and really don't have a chance of becoming big enough for at least two to three years...

When the five of them become the Flock during their stint with GmBH, legally and practically Denholt, Gort, and Indira were employees. They develop a new detection system. They use as their base an already existing set and make the major changes to it. They send it in for patent with copy to Rowan. GmBH is happily fitting their ships with it. The patent people are still sitting on it –have been for about a decade and equipment manufacturers say that the patents for the basic equipment prohibit their doing anything about it...

I got all this when I went to see Rowan. Yes, I went to see him in his office as I was moving unofficially. By the way, his secretary is Shelly Indira, Sabajhi's widow. I start telling Rowan why I'm there. Before I get far he is putting four boxes of chips in front of me. He tells me Diana Halliday and Red Milligan have similar stacks of correspondence. Admiralty legal had eventually called the Solicitor General in; remember while this was going on they were in a war. The SG was at the stage of presenting a case to the Supreme Court when Brown Hollow came to power. The SG and Admiralty were told to cease and desist, destroy all files. The Chapati Admiralty just wasn't interested. When Brown Hollow fell, Milligan and Rowan stared up again from zero...

The new development. Kowalski gets an idea about tuning a warship so that it won't bounce back detection beam and it won't have emissions. Hole-in-space absorbs all emissions and makes a hole which can be detected. "Vector", the original, was outlined against a freighter and a Harbourian CL sighted her. The CL was out of range but the CA wasn't. A quick thinking Harbourian captain passed the co ordinates to the CA who got off a shot. Gort was at "Vance's" EW and spotted the situation. "Vector" was only slightly damaged. Got the Flock thinking. McCock joined in the 'tuning' discussions but it came to naught. A throwaway comment from Indira struck in their minds. Why not tune an energy weapon to a hull. Initially the survivors had a laugh because Indira was a gunnery man. It worried at McCock and he got Kowaksli onto it again over in Gorgipest, the second time. Kowalski does all the calculations, has further discussions with McCock. The other two give assistance. To tune the energy weapon is not difficult. To get the target hull information requires active scanning. To transfer the energy, the weapon has to be fired from just inside energy range at right angles to the target hull at a point about two fifths of the way along, You've got to get in close. You need a lot of energy to satisfy all those criteria and there is only one warship available, "Shriek". Oh! and you can't use the system on anything smaller than a CA- seems smaller hulls are less flexible."

"So? What does it do?'

"The target hull disintegrates."

"So, to summarise, Andrew. Virginia wants to spend my personal squadron on a raid on the Harbourian Home Fleet using an unproven system, the 'Vulcan', you said? Escorted by my squadron because they are the only units in my Navy which have the capabilities. The only ones with that capability because of, putting the best light upon it, corporate stupidity. Also my squadron contains the only vessel, on our side at least, that has a new deadly weapon which is probably suicide to use."

"Your Majesty, that just about sums it up."

Elizabeth sat quietly for some ten minutes, she did refill their cups.

"Andrew, this is a lot to absorb. I think I've got most of it but I am going to need a lot of advice from a lot of people quickly. There might be another matter I can resolve or should I leave it? Can't manage it here. Andrew? I would be honoured to attend a soirée at Virginia's estate in say four days time beginning with a formal dinner at 1800. I will get you the guest list but get Emily there in three days. I want to consult with her. I'll send my Household Comptroller over to liaise with Miss Laffertys and Mistress Horner. There are going to be four agendas to be covered. Emily, Caitlin and I will be there three days from now. No need for Virginia or yourself to be there until the fourth day, Andrew."

Elizabeth grinned impishly at him,

"I'll see how my peers are living. I'll just let myself in, shall I?



-------

Chapter 71



"So, there it is Emily," Elizabeth said in an almost exasperated tone, "Aunt Caitlin, when she stops laughing, says I should leave it alone."

Caitlin Winsor, sitting opposite the others, was indeed viewing the Queen's discomfort mirthfully and just managing not to laugh outright,

"I also said they should sort it out themselves."

Elizabeth glared back at her aunt,

"Oh I agree, but there is the small problem that none of them knows about the others – to be exact I presume each knows the others have a son but not the father of the others' sons. See, even I am confused and can't sort out who knows what and I know. Then there is the problem of the sons not known to the others. Oh damn, I'm gone again. Emily, Caitlin I do need your help. I have a very loyal servant who could be very badly hurt. I have several loyal families at risk of exposure. I have the sons who think they know their father but don't and then the sons who don't even have a putative father. There is a senior bureaucrat, a naval officer, and a peeress all to consider. I don't know that I can leave them in ignorance of each other."

"They are a family line of courtesans, you said, Elizabeth?" asked Emily.

"According to the history that's on Griffen. The Matriarch, Nan's mother, gave their Historical Society a detailed history of their family pre-Diaspora. The family Bible is in the grand daughter's hands, that is Nan's daughter, Anna, and if it is correct there has been a long line of Nancarrow women without partners with daughters. Seems this is the first time there has been sons in the line – that's admitted at least."

"Then put the situation to them, Elizabeth. There is a family knowledge there which must have faced problems before and found the solutions to them."

"Thank you Emily. Caitlin?"

"Yes; I think so Elizabeth. There are the boys to consider as well; and the women have seen them interacting. I would put the boys first though."

"Thank you. We can get them out here mid afternoon; let them tidy up and we'll, yes aunt, we, will meet them and ask them to present me with a solution."

"Virginia."

The Queen and her Admiral cordially embraced as old friends.

Elizabeth smiled at her friend,

"I truly do have a pottage to thin out. Bringing the groups to the Palace would have drawn too much attention whereas here ... Emily and the children are up in the nursery; Andrew is with them. Off you go. I'm playing host"

"Your Grace, Commander, Miss Nancarrow. Thank you for coming. My Aunt, Caitlin Winsor, Emily, Countess Blue Hills and I would like to later discuss a matter when I've finished playing host. Miss Laffertys will show you to your rooms and then the boys to the gym and the swimming pool. They will be dining separately tonight."

"Sir Thomas, Ladies, Gentlemen. Caine will show you to your rooms. Until dinner which is informal. Admiral Bruce-Cunningham has an 'op plan', is that the correct term, Caine? Thank you. An op plan for study."

"Willie, Francine, you have my most gracious permission to relax until dinner. Trevor will show you to your rooms."

"Francine, have I ever told you that I get quite squirrelly when my Queen puts on that open expansive bonhomie act?"

"Frequently, Willie, frequently."

"Sir Simeon, thank you for sharing the shuttle with Admirals Milligan and Rowan. You have been put in adjacent rooms. I'd like you to put in some more work because the day after tomorrow, I want this matter ready for complete resolution."

"Sir Victor, Lady Iris, Mr Wamirant. Miss Laffertys will show you up to your rooms. I'm sure Her Grace wont object to your playing in her simulator. Lady Iris, after you freshen up, would you return please, there ... Oh here she is now. Please wait."

"Commodore, Commander, Mrs Kowalski. You two join up with this two and go and play games. Trudi, this is Iris Browne, Lady Carlton; Iris, Trudi Kowalski. You can keep each other company until dinner, perhaps at the pool; mind you there is a collection of young males there. Trudi, perhaps Augustus would like to join them. Don't worry, Cunningham House has live-in lifeguards – don't be put off by the jade uniforms."

"Thank you for joining us, ladies; I have a rather delicate matter to raise."

Elizabeth began, only to be interrupted by Nan Nancarrow. Nan sat erect in her chair as regal and graceful as either of the two royals. Her hands were lightly clasped in her lap and she held her head high to look directly into her Sovereign's eyes.

"Its Aggy, he is the father of our children. I suspected James but I had no idea about Peter. Excuse me your Majesty, I need a bit more information. Erin how many of yours were, oh dear, shall I ask, were derived from Aggy?"

Somewhat defiantly Erin stated,

"All three; I was the 'beard' for those two."

Nan considered that for a brief moment and then turned to the Queen,

"I can see how that complicates matter for you in the Lords if that gets out."

Nan then fixed Sally with a stern gaze,

"When? Please don't obfuscate. The Queen must know otherwise we wouldn't be here." She paused and cocked her head at the Queen, "but why? Caitlin? Yes?" and turned regally to Caitlin Winsor, Dowager Countess of Fernvale.

"Never acknowledged."

Caitlin smiled slightly and nodded,

"When Elizabeth originally told me, I told her I wanted to thank you for teaching Anton all he knew" finishing with a gurgling laugh.

Nan returned to Sally.

Sally held herself tall and looked straight back at Nan,

"Just once, er, that is, just the one night. It was at the "Excelsior"; the night the crew of the "Shriek" break up. Aggy got drunk. He's never been drunk that I know of. He got up to walk out and walked straight into the wall. I put him to bed, but one thing led to another and I'd been in love with him almost from the first time I saw him. Do you remember, Erin? Of course, you do! Anyway, I spent the night. He did know who I was so I had and have no qualms about our night. He did say that he had seen you earlier that day with Western Hove and how sorry he was you'd broken off...

You know Erin, until that night, I didn't realize you were the Erin at "The Green Man". You walked away, Erin, and he closed off. Slow had told me about his reaction and had I had you there at that time I'd have clawed your eyes out, daughter or no. Your hurt him badly and I won't ever forgive you for that. But three? I thought you only had two sons; and you Nana Nan, when did Aggy and you get together?"

"I had a most enjoyable month with him just before he left with the 119 for Gorgipest. I found myself pregnant and tubed the babe. The Nancarrows do not abort – we don't breed that often and second children are almost unheard of. Sally and I would be legends; you can't count Erin because they were in vitro. I didn't tell him he was a father. I only suspected about James Donald. We Nancarrows are not bred for marriage – it does happen – but it's usually for money or position. It's difficult to challenge generations of breeding. Erin appears to have reverted to form; but all three by Aggy?"

The Dowager Duchess of Western Hove looked carefully at the Queen who gazed serenely back.

"Our family does have a peculiar obstetric history. Initially I had Aggy use condoms. Thinking ahead about a family and remember he was still engaged in dangerous work, I slipped a condom load of sperm into a nitrogen cold thermos. Sometime after that I shifted to the chemicals for contraception. I had put the sperm and thermos in proper storage and almost forgot about it. I broke up with Aggy not realizing I was pregnant. I'm sorry Mamma, I was in so deep with Aggy I couldn't think and he had told me because of his circumstances marriage was not feasible. I didn't know and still don't know the circumstances, but I walked away. I had the babe, left him with Nana Nan and became a Registered Courtesan but I was going to do it my way. I remember the things Nana Nan taught me. I did my research and offered myself as a 'beard' for Claigh Valley. The number of nights we sat and discussed the Kingdom's politics - I am an expert. The contract included a child he would acknowledge and he would have the heir. My egg was harvested and I produced my thermos of sperm telling the O and G I'd got it by masturbating Claigh Valley. In vitro fertilization, tubed, and Dorian Graham born and openly acknowledged. His wife found Dorian and I, when Dorian was three months, and offered to formally adopt; how she got Claigh Valley to accept that I don't know. She absolutely dotes on him; as part of the arrangement I visit; and she does not spoil him. Western Hove. Actually Claigh Valley put me onto him. He was a neuter and badly wanted a 'beard' and an heir. I went into the contract expecting just that. We established Walter and then he asked me to marry him. He had claimed his mother was a poisonous bitch and once I met her I had to agree. To protect Walter, I married Western Hove. When Walter was born I had finally to forbid his mother the house. As you know, Western Hove and his mother died in an air car crash. Western Hove and I had formally adopted Walter shortly after he was born and that infuriated the old biddy. I wouldn't be surprised if they were arguing about it and caused the crash. Pure supposition on my part."

As three very speculative gazes fixed upon Erin's emotionless face, Emily looked back and forth with widening eyes. Caitlin just smiled quietly as she remembered some political discussions as an undergraduate in which Claigh Valley had participated.

Elizabeth then looked to the others and announced,

"I want you Nancarrows to discuss this among yourselves and give me advice on a solution."

Sally gave a laugh,

"As my friend Shelly says, that's easy! Enoble Aggy. He marries one of us and we all live with them. Nana and I will force Erin down his throat. It's easy. Hanky panky among the peerage? It's expected. The Peers will close ranks about the demi-monde and an upstart to maintain their privileges even while ostracizing us; but who cares, the boys will all be accepted and we Nancarrows have done this before. Now, Your Majesty, just how much danger is Aggy going into this time? I love that man, but I know no one on Deity's earth can stop him from doing what he considers his duty."

Anton Hawkins--Nan Nancarrow--A

O O Mick McGraw--Anna l

O l

Dan Lee--Sally--A l

O O l

Erin--A l l

l l l

-- l l

O l l

James l l l l

Donald X l l l

Dorian Graham l l l

l X l

l Peter Colin l

X l

Walter Edward X

Matthew Samuel

O natural conception

~ in vitro conception

X tubed



-------

Chapter 72



The Dinner went off pleasantly. Emily and Nan had some difficulty getting Carlton at ease but once they got him loosened up he gave the ladies an honest if somewhat hilarious look into the lower decks.

The Queen led the ladies out after announcing a bit of the work for the next day.

First Lord, Willie and Francine would join with Sir Simeon and his Admirals.

The Space Lords, Home Fleet and Commodore would discuss their ideas. Kowalski, Wamirant and Carlton would make themselves available.

The Queen and the other ladies would do what they had come to do - to relax and enjoy themselves.

At breakfast, the groups made contact with each other and found that Miss Laffertys had things already arranged...

The Space Lords remained in conference for a few hours before repairing to the simulator where they critically watched McCock, Kowalski, Wamirant and Carlton demonstrate the scenarios and play out the options. They broke for lunch and then returned to the simulator until late afternoon by which time all expressed satisfaction with the plans. The plan was only for a small raiding party so there had been no need for the full Admiralty resources. The seamlessly efficient manner in which Wamirant and Carlton had fitted with McCock and Kowalski to form a co-ordinated team came as a surprise to the Admiralty officers. They should have asked Virginia or Peter Scott.

Willie Bruce and Francine Shadowdale had quickly grasped the problem of, as Her Majesty described it, corporate stupidty. Milligan and Rowan made absolute nuisances of themselves and finally forced their listeners to realize that lives were being wasted because of the non availability of the inventions. Their point had been ruthlessly made by Admiral Milligan presenting in detail the combats in which the Flock had engaged and others' more well publicised actions and then quoting the 'butcher's bill' for them. Sir Simeon had discussed the legal processes and the way in which it had been used to delay the judicial process. He put the suggestion that the Sovereign should exercise Her Prerogative as Commander-in-chief, metaphorically chop off a few heads, Milligan muttered under his breath about "real ones" but his listeners pretended not to hear that one, get the corporations moving and let them go to the courts if they dared breach the "Official Secrets' Act". Silas Rowan pointed out that the Kingdom was losing its sons and more would be wasted if these inventions and others weren't brought into service quickly and even now it could be too late because of the parlous position in which the Kingdom existed at this point. A secret session should be called and the fact hammered home that the recent battle in home space was a strategic disaster unparalleled in any history of any war known.

The ladies were outside in the shaded alcove watching the sea birds wheel over the blue waters of the bay which was broken by white topped rollers moving majestically out of the ocean. They were sipping their cool drinks, definitely non alcoholic, and conversations rose and fell between them. Emily had manoeuvred her lift chair back into the shade and this brought her across from Duchess Western Hove who sat on the low bulwark looking out to sea with a look of wrenching sadness on her face. Emily crossed to her and touched her hand,

"Its not that bad, Erin,"

There was a disgusted snort heard by all. All heads including Erin's turned to Trudi who quickly waved her hand as if to brush away the sound,

"I'm sorry, I am a guest here. I do apologise, please?"

Erin turned that sad face to Trudi,

"What has Polack told you?"

Trudi hesitated and then quietly replied,

"He does not even know you are alive, Rien Cockson. How could you use that name that way? Do you really hate him that much?"

Erin looked out to sea for several moments, her face taut. Trudi continued

"I live with 'Mina Denholt, she used to be 'Mina Galbraith and Shelly Sabajhi who was Shelly Black. We saw you on the vid at your husband's funeral. 'Mina recognized you instantly. She told us the story and we started looking for you. We found you in a lot of old faxes. It was Shelly who found James and both the others say he is Aggy's. I apologise, I should not have said that, there are some here who do not know of this. We shall talk later perhaps?"

Elizabeth broke in,

"Well if you know of it then so do others. If you found out then so can others. I think I am going to have to make a decision soon."

Elizabeth turned speculative eyes upon Iris Browne who sat calmly beneath that gaze. The Queen did not have the experience of "the look" which senior NCOs of her defence forces had. Iris herself had it and had used it very effectively in her Marine Corps service.

"Iris Browne in her other guise is one of my Marine Colour Sargeant Majors. Iris how much have you guessed?"

"Well Ma'am. There is something big going down. It is a major strike because your top politicians are here. It involves "The Queen's Own" because McCock and Kowalski are here. I can't place Wamirant, nor the Solicitor General. I suspected some thing personal with the two ladies, Western Hove and Miss Nancarrow who are related and from Trudi's comments, McCock is in it up to his pretty little ears but I'll wager he doesn't know a thing about the er social side of this gathering. Victor is in the strike; you are going to make him take a command and that both pleases and terrifies me."

"Very good, Iris. How much has Victor told you about McCock?"

"He got a good read on 119 in Paracelsus and then Gorgipest. He made only one comment "that lad has some good kit" and since then he has got very secretive; when he won't talk to me I get a bit worried."

Elizabeth looked across her subjects and quietly said,

"Anything you hear or even guess you will not even discuss among yourselves when you leave here. Better still do not discuss it here as there are children who might hear. Please! I don't want to play the vengeful Queen with you. I have enjoyed your company. It is rare for me to be able to enjoy such moments. Do not, I beg of you spoil it for me. Nan, Erin, please consider a request that I be allowed to bring 'Mina and Shelly into this. I'll do it privately. Nan, you do it. I'll provide the secure location for you"

"The Residence where we live, Your Majesty, is clean. My Grandpapa you know... ?" said Trudi.

Elizabeth didn't blink an eye,

"Excellent. Nan, Iris? Good! Please arrange it. Now I want to use your experience, Iris. A solution has been suggested which you will appreciate better after Nan briefs you. Is it to ennoble McCock. How would this be responded to by the lower decks?"

Iris Browne contemplated her sovereign before straightening her shoulders,

"Victor does listen to rumours but when he talks with me he is very careful to make it clear which is which. As you can guess he has sources of information that I sometimes cannot believe. That is, until I think of mine in the Corps. I am going to make believe they are all real...

McCock and his friends worked on the manning detail that decreased the complement of warships. Victor read that paper written when McCock was in the Academy – Scotty hadn't seen that one and he was impressed when he read it...

That work could have earned a "C"...

Scotty and Victor have got a close look, from the outside, of that armed cutter "Vector" carries. They heard it was pre 119. Scotty says it is a derivative of the "Fairpath" HAC and a forerunner of his HAC. There is a rumour that groups called the Dungeon and the Crypt worked on the prototype Fairpath HAC. Scotty and Victor think it was them...

There is a definitely a "C" possibly a "K"...

That HAC is rumoured to have been involved in the capture of a blockade runner after destroying the escort. Any escort would out mass and out gun that HAC. Here we move into decorations PMV? Probably not, but an MC?...

119 forms up with McCock as XO. The armed cutter is incorporated into the squadron. You could look at a DSO certainly when you add those years of convoy duty...

There are stories of years of research and new weapons on line. The "K" becomes definite and baron becomes feasible. 119's record in Paracelsus would probably have attracted at least the Soverign's Thanks. 119 is sold to the breakers. Victor has heard whispers about financial wheeling and dealing and McCock's family firm ends up owning them. Out of the Navy, ships to the breakers courtesy of that ... Brown Hollow. Victor says he is on a solid ground on this one. Five V and W destroyers with quarter normal crew totally destroy five Harbourian battle cruisers and one CL for the loss of one destroyer. You look at Viscount for the leader and knighthoods for the other captains. Decorations? You've got to be looking at PMVs definitely MCs...

McCock is known to have almost rehabilitated Gorgipest by himself, I mean he single handedly directed it. That's a Peerage with "Ks" to his assistants. Victor heard he worked at it for three years. McCock and his 'death ride' people then build a small fleet and lay it at your feet. He cocks a snook at the Lords and spits in the eye of the Commons. That's a Peerage by itself...

Add them all up your Majesty and there won't be too many lower deck who won't approve. Most of them have heard the rumours and discount them but the facts are coming together in at least Home Fleet. An Earldom would be the minimum with a KGC and some decorations would meet with approval. The lower deck think he and his are queer ducks but, hey! they're our ducks with a very good war history. Go for it Your Majesty."

"Your Majesty, Your Space Lords agree the operation is feasible subject to the "Vulcan's" performance."

"What's the latest on them, Sir Thomas?"

"They should be here in another two or three days. High Admiral has kept two and sent us the others. He reported four more are about to come off the slip ways. He can load his two. We can load our two from the barges out with Home Fleet. Your Grace?"

Virginia addressed the board which she had been invited to attend,

"The first one I'll partially load with trial nests and let "The Queen's Own" work her up. I'll give Wamirant the command of her. He helped build her so he should know how she works. I'll give the other one to Admiral Underhill. He has the BC(N) squadron and that is what seems to be needed for 'puter power. Yes Commodore?"

"Hugh Avers, my CEO/MD at GmBH, Gorgipest, has sent five KeyHACs and some reconnaissance UVAs. I'm going to take at least six of the reccy UVAs and you can have the rest to give to your BC(N)s. I haven't played with the reccys but Hugh tells me they are KeyHACs with the 'puter replaced with detection equipment and appropriate FTL communication equipment for real time work. If they work as well as Hugh says they will it means we can really stand off and look."

"Do you happen to have a Magic Wand in your back pocket Commodore?" asked the Queen.

"No Your Majesty," smiled McCock, "but there are six "Period" active scanners coming as well. Denny and Polack have another five black boxes for hole-in-space shield modes."

Sir Thomas interjected,

"I thought those chips were out of production."

"Not quite, Sir Thomas. There is a little firm in Gorgipest which is making them for us. We shifted that electron microscope out of "Vance" into "R2"; Polack made the changes and then Slow and Denny made up the boxes. Denny has been training up a couple of the Avers' 'Sparks' to do the work and we should be getting out three or four a week. We don't have that many to make with Home Fleet at its present size. It's all we can manage ourselves."

Her Magesty said more severely,

"And that brings us to the next item. You're all read the SG's report? Your advice? Commodore?"

"Your Majesty, we've now got total security. If you shoot the bastards I'll not grieve but you'll have to say why. Even if you don't go into great detail, interest will be stimulated. I advise do nothing against the Corporations and my reason is that we no longer need them. They will quite legitimately take two years to get their production going. We no longer have the fleet to equip. With the 'Vulcan' I don't need the forward holds of the Riders so we can expand in there, equip the fleet we have and then as they come off the slips. GmBH can handle Gorgipest as the vessels come off the line there and the Riders can handle here. You'll get a bill from GmBH for the work done. Take a look at the Agreement on the Riders. They are chartered in. I wasn't sure how I'd finally use them. Also we can't modify the Harbourian equipment so I'll have to get Mountserrat shields for them eventually."

Sir Thomas agreed.

"That makes sense, Your Majesty."

"Unfortunately" said the Queen. "I'll have to see if I can get them for something else. I don't like being thwarted. Let's break for a walk around and some coffee to wash the taste out."



-------

Chapter 73



Her Majesty smiled mischievously at her seated Naval Board and its guests, Admiral of the Fleet Virginia Bruce-Cunningham and Commodore HMS McCock, causing those who knew the woman beneath the Crown to develop a nervous twitch wondering what devilment the woman was up to now.

"I am going to enjoy this. Commander McGraw, have Gunnery Sergeant Major Browne march them in please."

Sally McGraw walked quickly to the double doors of the ornate conference room with an expanding sense of curiosity. She opened a door and stood in the doorway.

"Gunnery Sergeant Major, The Queen requests you march them in please."

There was a quiet conversation while Sally opened both doors to the sound of the shuffling of feet. Then there was the whip crack of commands more suitable for a parade ground,

"Party, shun! Double time, march! Left, right, left, right. Left wheel! Right wheel! Mark time! Party! Halt!"

The commands were given to the accompaniment of three pairs of issue ammunition boots crashing to the tiles of the floor at one hundred and eighty paces to the minute.

Sally closed the doors and retired to her position at the recorders.

Wamirant as the senior was on the right and he just looked stunned wondering how he got into whatever it was that was going on.

Carlton had a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead at the edge of his beret. His years of experience left his face emotionless but Virginia, who knew him well, could appreciate the sense of discipline which kept his rising panic rigidly under control.

"Gunnery Sergeant Major Browne reporting with party of two." She saluted.

The Queen looked at her two senior servicemen. She smiled graciously at Iris,

"Thank you 'Gunny', stand easy please."

'Gunny' Browne was to the right rear of the party. She assumed the 'at ease'.

"Mr Wamirant, I apologise to you for the way in which my officers have treated you. In their defence, I can only say that they were acting in the best interests of their ships as they rather selfishly saw it. The loss of "Fairpath" started the rot as your records from there were lost. I acknowledge your frustration with my Navy and I regret you had to find a commission with an ally. That's about to change."

The Queen then turned to Carlton and fixed him with a truly baleful glare. If ever a man standing rigidily at attention could be said to cringe, Carlton cringed as the Queen's features then turned serene as she began conversationally,

"Mister Carlton, Senior Chief Warrant Officer Sir Victor Carlton, one of my most decorated spacers, you are a disgrace. You have shirked your duty to me and to my Navy. You have only began to 'straighten up' when you marry late, even then you continue to shirk your duty...

I have spent the last evening studying your service records. Your capabilities are recorded as extraordinary. There are frequent favourable comments as to your ability to lead and to teach, offsetting those are comments that you refuse to accept the responsibility or rank. Your attitude towards my property and to my Marines can only be described as cavalier. I counted your promotions. Twenty seven. Twenty seven, Sir Victor. It only takes an unblemished eighteen to make Admiral of the Fleet. Instead of serving me honourably and to your best ability, and your entrance results are on your record, or at least the one that I had Counter Intelligence assemble for me; you have skived and shirked your way through my service. You can take some pride in knowing that Sam Costello, my CI chief, has put in a formal request for you because of what you can do to and with 'puters, but he can't have you. I need you and by the Deity you will serve me...

Gentlemen, 119 Squadron is a rather unique unit. Whilst it was in the service of my Navy in Paracelsus, to while away the boredom of Convoy duty, Captain Earl Gold Roper conducted a "Crusher" course. The tradition has been continued by its successor "The Queen's Own". Several of my Navy Officers have taken an interest in this and one unfortunate, Felix Arbuthson, actually undertook it. He expresses constant surprise he survived it. He now commands "Giant"...

Mr Wamarant, Sir Victor, you will repair aboard "Vector" and join such other ships as Commodore McCock designates. There you will become the subject of their Crusher course. My Home Fleet commander informs me that two of her staff officers, Millicent Utah and Anne Jones, wish to participate. I am told that your hours of sleep will be few, you will lose weight as you won't have time to eat, you will develop muscles from the exercise you will get and your arses will drag. You will co-operate. You will actively participate. You will be successful. You have six weeks."

The last sentence came with a clear promise that you won't want to find out the cost of failure. But "Crusher" is six month. How... ?

"Gunny, march them out please." Sally quickly moved and opened the doors,

"Party! About turn! Double time!March! Left wheel, right wheel. Party! Halt! Dismiss!"

Iris continued conversationally "There now, that wasn't that bad, was it?"



-------

Chapter 74



"Take us out Mr Carlton," Aggy gave the order, stepped back to his command chair and sat down. He glanced at the slender man beside him. Michael Underhill stood with his hands clasped lightly behind him watching the proceedings. He looked at McCock and smiled lazily,

"An interestin' vessel you have Aggy. I don't think I want to take her on one on one even with our electronic bits 'n pieces."

"I'd need luck to take your BC without my advantages but honestly without them, I'd not face you. You live longer when you are discreet."

"And whenever have you been discreet?"

"About as often as you have," Aggy laughed back at him.

"Vector" in company with "Vulcan" moved out to the PRD area. As they approached the area, Carlton sent "Shriek" up into hyper for a look around. Underhill looked puzzled at Aggy and said accusingly,

"SuperHACs ain't hypercapable accordin' to my briefin'"

McCock looked innocently back,

"See, you never want to absolutely rely on intelligence. She was the experimental and the concept was for a hyercapable HAC. There are two fission piles in her for the power but we found that she is really too small in the independent role as we couldn't get enough crew fitted in for prolonged sorties. Still it's nice to have her as her signature even when at full power is very small. She's a very good scout checking out the hyper for us. She got a CL three weeks back lurking about, popping in and out to catch or glimpse of what Home Fleet's doing...

Time to get nasty."

He spoke quietly into his com set, and spoke again to Underhill,

""Shriek" is playing 'no-duff' but it doesn't mean we can't use her shadow."

They watched as Carlton sent the cutter out towards where "Shriek" had reappeared and moved above "Vulcan's" plane.

Carlton sent out two of his KeyHACs. "Vulcan" released her nests to the control of the KeyHACs. McCock activated his chair screens and made some adjustments.

"We cramped Victor's style just a bit. Period has been disabled and his Recon UVAs are unavailable. But we also made "Vulcan" 'no target'."

The target drone was fast approaching. Carlton then threw "Vance" into a series of quick manoeuvres and gave his firing orders.

"Oh well done Victor" muttered McCock under his breath.

The drone signalled hits as Carlton used "Shriek" as a shield and rapidly withdrew from the area recalling his KeyHACs as he went. McCork called off the exercise, ordered the cutters to retrieve the exercise missiles and called up his Captains for debrief.

Sir Victor fixed McCock with what he hoped was an evil eye,

"You don't fight fair."

Michael Underhill gave a derisive snort. Sir Victor continued,

"You put a bogey out there using "Shriek" as a shield and you put another one beyond "Vulcan". But you beat yourselves. I spent some time with Captain Denholt last week and we discussed the changes to the detection level receivers where we can now detect all scanning signals including Period. I sent our cutter out and had her relay her detection levels and closed behind her to mask out ours and that gave me the 'Grendel' out there. I hadn't had a look beyond the drones or "Vulcan". As I went up I noted the increase as I uncovered the cutter and then unmasking "Vulcan" the levels went up further. So I had a fresh target. When the missiles were flushed, their EW picked up Period from all over but the KeyHACs were able to refine the bearings. I kept "Vulcan" and "Shriek" as shields and the bogeys played ball. I programmed the birds and sent the minimum at the target and a small spread at each of the bogeys to keep them occupied while I departed to the scene using the KeyHACs to direct the birds onto their targets. I would have had to be lucky if either bogey got damaged but I didn't either. Denny confirmed for me when we put hole-in-space on our shields we lost the ability to get a bearing on our threat receivers."

"Yes. We looked at that and decided that Period make up for the deficiency. We forgot about that when we put up this scenario."

Slow joined,

"Wiring in several of other antennae as passives and using our own hulls as blocking shields we could get computer to get a bearing plus minus 15 degrees. It isn't great but it's better than we have now if Period goes down. Let me look at it Aggy and I'll see how easy it is to do. I'm thinking we could with only a few software 'puter adjustments."

McCock returned,

"Suits Slow. Sir Victor didn't go clear of "Vulcan" or "Shriek" as shields. Felix, Slow, did you get any read on "Vance's" hole-in-space?"

The answers came back negative.

"I want all the tapes examined to find out if we did miss something or if the turbulence of the shields of "Vulcan" and "Shriek" confused the appearance. McCock clear."

"Take us home Mr Carlton, have "Giant","Gremlin" and "Vulcan" join in company."

McCock turned to Admiral Underhill,

"We have become rather profligate with our usage of Period and neglected our passives. Join me in my cabin and I'll brief you on what Captain Denholt's little change does and we can dissect Capain Gort's proposal."

"Captain leaving the bridge."

Carlton took the vessels back to the harbour, retrieving the KeyHACs as they travelled in. He now appreciated Felix's observation that you can learn while you are asleep on your feet. The new Flock, which included Felix Arbuthson, could be so casual as they subjected you to absolute torture. On one of the rare times Aubrey and he were together, Aubrey had claimed his brain was so scrambled he was sure it was having a breakdown without his knowing it. The comment had barely been made when the First had popped his head in and told them to report to the Commodore in the Gym – 'have to keep your body fit too'- and went off chuckling.

"What's he so happy about?" Carlton had grumbled.

"Don't you know? The First has done his course." replied Wamirant.

"I want to kill someone other than you, fellow victim. I've tried on the Commodore, but the little weed just laughs and puts me on the mats again. If I finish this I will be a fit well trained anencephalic."

They continued jogging towards the gym and then Sir Victor chuckled,

"And isn't that the definition of an officer exactly?"

"Admiral, vid com for Commodore "The Queen's Own""

Michael Underhill looked up from the report of his flag captain, nodded at his steward, smiled his thanks to the steward, then turned to his desk screen.

"Morin' Aggy, just finished your mornin' calisthenics?'"

"No, just been putting Sir Victor in his place again. He does keep trying. Could you come over for lunch and bring your Cruise missile EW expert with you? I've just had a random thought I'd like to resolve."

"Providin' your Avers chef has the duty, I'll come willin'ly."

"Suits. McCock clear."

Michael looked at his blank screen. This was the first time McCock had commed him. McCock didn't have random thoughts, his brain wouldn't allow itself to be so disorganised. He set his screen for internal and commed his Flag Captain,

"Ah, Bert, Commodore "T' Queen's Own" wants t' have lunch with my Cruise missile EW expert. Knowin' t'Commodore he wants the best upper or lower deck. I'm t' go along for t'ride. Can you organize please?"

"Sir, I've got an Avers in missiles who is full bottle on them. I'll detail him." The crisp tone was replaced by a wheedling tone, you could almost see the puppy crouching at your feet looking up at you with its head cocked beggingly to one side.

"Sir if I commed "Vector" and wangled an invitation could I catch a ride over with you?"

Underhill looked at his Flag Captain,

"Bert? Do I want to know the reason for the sudden urge to visit them?"

"Ah, well, not really Sir."

"Set it up Bert. Clear."

Bert Filister did not waste any time; he warned his missile tech and then commed "Vector". He tried to remain back channel but ended up facing McCock. Filister explained the reason behind his request making McCock look rather quizzically at him. McCock's face cleared and yes Mr Denholt would be present at the lunch and please consider yourself invited.

The Flag Captain and the missile tech were standing by the Admiral's barge,

"Any idea why we are going over, Sir?"

"I know exactly why I am going over but not a sniff as to why the Admiral and you have been asked."

There were no honours for their arrival; every courtesy but "The Queen's Own" paid honours only to the Queen and the Heir. - not even the Prince Consort.

They were shown into the Wardroom, McCock explained,

"Because of the size of this luncheon I swapped the Wardroom for the lunch. They are a bit feyed because I brought the Chef with me. He does the Petty Officers' Mess and mine."

"'Chef, how are you? I thought you had retired; anymore of us about?"

"Hello David, I was offered the job here so I joined "The Queen's Own". There are a few of us but don't visit the Riders. They are lousy with us 'pests. Here's another face you know."

"Victor, it is a small galaxy. What are you doing? I'd heard you'd gone to the HACs."

"Suffering David, suffering. I got an offer I couldn't refuse."

"Gentlemen, luncheon is served."

At the end of the meal, the stewards placed two small shot glasses at each position. The Master at Arms and his mates entered, and decanted a half tot of almost black fluid into each shot glass. After he departed, the Commodore explained,"This is a meal hosted by me and the Toasts will be drunk. "The Queen's Own" drink the toast seated. Mr Avers you are the junior."

"Gentlemen, the Queen."

A shot glass was drained, McCock nodded at Wamirant,

"Gentlemen, I give you Renmark, the Sceptre and the Mitre."

At this stage of the war, nobody got it wrong.

"Housekeeping, gentlemen. At a recent high level meeting I passed on some information but the listeners were somewhat distracted with other duties. When I was made aware of the situation I checked and have received permission to pass on the news. Captain Filister, you can stop trying to push Captain Denbolt into a corner. Michael, I am to give your squadron five black boxes for hole-in-space shields. "Mountserrat" is presently an orphan from Browne's home fleet and I know she is not a (N) but her Commodore, Colin Bonder, has a number of years' experience with the black box; she will be joining 81. David, I am sure you and your Flag Captain are going to have an interesting conversation on your journey home. Shortly, there will be arriving some Period sets, KeyHACs and, after I get my share, some Recon UVAs also for 81. You are getting the other 'Vulcan' as well which is presently loading with missiles out of the barges. When we finish trials I'll fill up my 'Vulcan'. Your officers will be welcome to visit while we work up."

McCock settled a little before he continued,

"Gentlemen, 119, and in the next few days 81 BC (N) will have stealth equipment far surpassing anything available to date. We will be able to inflict damage upon our enemies orders of magnitude above what our units would have been able to do in the past ... but I have become aware of a factor which will limit full utilization of our capacity...

Gentlemen, our missiles are NOT STEALTHY. Stop! Think! The firing of our missiles is detected. Unless they run ballistic their general approach is known. The missile EW is designed to spoof the enemy's EW capabilities, it is not designed to approach unseen by the enemy. Compare and contrast with Recon Drone...

This is not acceptable. We need a solution. Quickly."



-------

Chapter 75



Sir Victor looked over at David Avers,

"I'm not as hands on with Cruise missile as you are David, but if its anything like the older missiles there is just no room in them for anything else."

David Avers, with all eyes upon him, sat quietly, seeing nothing and it wasn't hard to visualize the flow of schematic diagrams passing before his mental eyes,

"Yeah. Sliding that body tube on and off is a brute of a job; it takes a full maintenance crew of five about forty five minutes to do it; and you have to make sure the anti friction pads are just so. Thankfully we rarely have to go that deep, it's usually a factory task."

Denny reached into his brief case and produced one of his black boxes; Bert Filister's eye lit up and he laid claim immediately.

"Mine! Back! Back you thieves I say!" which raised a laugh from the room. David Avers looked at the box

"Not a chance Sir."

Filister reached over the wardroom table and Denny laughingly placed the box in his hand,

"I'll have a tech come over and fit it for you."

"No need, Mister Denholt. I still have your instruction from "Naseby" and before Colin Bonder and I removed your original we got vids of it. We even put mirrors in to capture all round views. I've done it twice shifting with Colin. I was promotion transferred away from Colin and no disrespect to you Admiral it was not joining you that made me reluctant it was leaving Colin and that black box. Death in the Navy is part of the contract but it doesn't mean you don't minimize the risk."

Michael Underhills's face was tight with anger,

"You had this on "Naseby"? That's was before t' war began. You are getting a one off now! Why hasn't the Fleet had it?"

"Calmly, Michael, calmly. I'll give you the details personally later. I don't have to remind you all that this is close held? Now, the original question please," McCock brought the meeting back.

Slow pointed out,

"Cruise missile doesn't have shields and that mod is for shield generators. I've been away from it for awhile. Mr Carlton has the Navy changed shield generators?"

Sir Victor thought for a moment and looked enquiringly at David Avers,

"No, Captain; and there hasn't been any mods to the sets that I can think of, to the generator but not to the control circuits and that box sits on them if I remember your lectures."

David Avers put in,

"You're not going to do anything to Cruise missile missiles, either the weapon missile or the EW missile. They're just too compact a design. Recon Drone is designed the same and it has stealth. They were both factory designed with their equipment sets."

Polack asked Wamirant,

"The "Vulcan" ejects the nests with the missiles primed with data and then they fire. How do you eject them?"

"Electro magnetic repulsion" replied Wamirant "and No! we can't increase that force to impart velocity to the nests. Above what is there now becomes detectable passively and distortion to the framework becomes a factor.

"What gravities can you get with "Vulcan"? Four hundred?" asked McCock.

"Four twenty max military, four fifty red line, eighty percent cruise three fory" replied Wamirant slowing down as he answered, "but you only need two forty"

"Yes" said Slow, Denny and Polack together.

"How do you pack them?" asked Polack

"Slab mount where twenty joined nests get ejected together and get separated by Cruise missile controller and fired; or spine mount where all nests face outboard and they are ejected and can be fired separately from "Vulcan". There is a penalty for spine mount, fifteen percent reduction in load."

Bert Filister remarked,

"That's still a lot of missiles; what? A Fleets' full supply plus? Why two forty?"

Slow answered,

"We developed this before the war and we didn't really test it out. When we were up in Paracelsus with the V and Ws, we were able to fully research it. Most of our convoy's were between two twenty and thee hundred gravs. The V and Ws can only get four forty at a push anyway. We found that there was no detectable emissions below two sixty and even knowing what you all are looking for two forty makes the hole nearly undetectable. When "Vector" got hit she was at about three sixty coming across the convoy and she must have been shadowed against a freighter by that Harbourian CL."

In response to Bert's raised eyebrow she continued,

"I was Tac-Nav on "Vance". Saw the plot and jumped in and told "Vector" to go up but that CL driver was sharp. He was out of range but the Battle wasn't. Must have passed the co- ordinates and it was only that it was indirect fire that "Vector" only got one hit; one fiftieth of a degree either side either a complete miss or destruction. That was a very well trained little squadron and if all the Harbourians are like that it isn't going to be easy. So when this squadron goes full 'sneaky beaky' we amble along at two forty. Above that its still hard work to spot us. The Riders haven't got the best equipment but Denny using it can just make us at three hundred."

Aggy added,

"We never felt the need to widely disseminate the knowledge. There was only one very unofficial set existent besides ours. We passed the details onto Rowan, though."

Underhill was still annoyed.

"What the underworld was Rowan doing if he had all of it? Why wasn't he getting off his REMF arse. We needed that."

Bert Filister started to placate his Admiral, when McCock said again,

"Calmly Michael. You might not be less angry when I explain but you will be better placed to blame".

Underhill nodded. Wamirant had been quietly talking to Carlton and his voice came almost dreamily in to the pause of the main discussion.

"The maths will be difficult."

"That's what 'puters are for" rejoined Sir Victor.

Underhill looked about at the grey clad officers as they sat with thoughtful looks on their faces with an occasional nod at each other and they seemed simultaneously to begin smiling. Underhill's mind raced over his recent data assembling it, sorting it. collating it.

Bert and he exchanged looks and they too nodded,

"Yaw and roll ship. Eject nests. Decelerate clear." Underhill said.

"You see why I'll let him play with our toys" said McCock to his fellow captains, then focused on Denny,

"How soon to fit the "Vulcan" with hole-in-space and Period?"

"Hole-in-space is done. My COB is picking up the Period set now. Admiral, can you send your ships over to R2 one at a time for fit out and we will take the opportunity to brief your teams on the KeyHACs and UVAs. Bert, liaise with Master Desmond Avers? Good!"

The meeting broke up. Millicent Utah and Anne Jones were waiting for Carlton and Wamirant to drag them off to the simulator. McCock accompanied Underhill to the boat bay and gave a summary of the events with a bit more of the recent detail; the story from his Flag Captain gave a more personal side and at the end Milligan and Rowan got off with an assessment 'should have tried harder'.

"The Queen's Own" trained up with HMS "Vulcan", becoming familiar with each other. Wamirant had been told he was to be "Vulcan's" captain and had been promoted to Lt Cdr RMNR.

Staff planning on the Home Fleet flagship continued. At the meeting two weeks before departure date, Admiral Bruce-Cunningham dropped one into McCock's lap,

"Sir Thomas had got HMS "Infamous" available. Her Captain and COHAC have been ordered to new construction. She is to come to Home Fleet and I'm giving her to Scotty. You need space cover for your withdrawal. You will have kicked over the hornets' nest and whatever is left, and there will be a lot of the small elements, will be out hunting for you and you could get swarmed. HAC cover would enable a safer withdrawal. If you think he can do it, I'll make Carlton COHAC as a Captain jg., he is familiar enough with the operation. Anne and Millicent think he is up for it. They only have reservations about his ability to initiate operations although my personal knowledge says that he can certainly do that where there is just himself to organize."

McCock declared.

"I'm happy enough with him but "Infamous" itself will be a problem as the captain and crew have only two weeks. Still I see the point about withdrawal. If I..." and he went on spinning the adjusted web with "Infamous" in a rear guard positon giving space cover for the journey. McCock finished,

"Send them over ASAP please Admiral and I'll get Commodore Scott up to date. Thank Sir Thomas for me please."



-------

Chapter 76



"I lied" McCock said bluntly to Commodore Tremaine and Captain jg Sir Victor Carlton as they stood in the Command Centre of HMS "Infamous". Sir Victor said

"Aggy, I got that horrible sinking feeling when I read our orders. You wrote them didn't you? They were so vague – couldn't have written them better myself. Of course, this fine upstanding example of an RMN officer couldn't envisage anyone being so sneaky. Now the full story Sir."

McCock looked at his COHAC with a slight smile; he was his COHAC; the orders literally put "Infamous" under McCock's direct command without setting out any specifics. McCock was sure the Admiral had her suspicions but had allowed him operational discretion.

"The R 1 is only coming for another six days to top up the V and Ws and two bladders of reaction mass which they will put at deck cargo on "Washton" and "Warburton". We are two days out of Maureen's Moon now. Once we drop the Rider we will continue in hyperspace to Harbouria planet. We will drop out of hyper three point seven days, twenty four hour day, at two forty grav this side of Harbouria. The task group will shake down with the "Grendels" forming a vertical box with each at passive detection range of two others; they won't be able to find their diagonals on passive. "Vector" will be at the centre a passive distance astern of that box's centre with "Infamous" and "Vulcan" abreast trailing me astern as close as you can be; the V and Ws will make a similar box astern of "Vector" with the Vs on top forming a cube with us at centre. We will advance hole in space at two forty gravs. Astrographic data suggests Noveau Liege will be dead ahead of us when we come out of hyper. Their old Naval base was at NP. I am sending the eight reccy UVAs as soon as we get into n space out to our right and they will come out of the planets south east as we look at it. Acting like a meteorite swarm caught in the planet's gravity they will sweep the planet through two orbits and then depart apparently haphazardly but they will come back to us except one. The data will be sent back to us when they are on this side of the planet. "Vector" will designate the major Naval installations and their ships. The target's missile salvo's will be allocated. The "Grendels" will work on secondary targets, missile batteries, defence bases etc which will either require an energy torpedo or an energy blast. Population centres to be noted and to act negatively on the planning. Then they will move onto tertiary targets, docks and then warehouses, freighters, power plants, bridges and other infra structure...

We may have to loiter because I want the major naval base on edge to us at missile impact. The one UVA will sit above the main base giving us up to date information every eight hours going real time at missile release. Depending exactly where that main base is we'll throw the nests at them. Cdr Wamirant says he can get three hundred gravities by the centrifugal force of the rotary action of "Vulcan". We'll launch a day out and then send the KeyHACs ahead at six hundred gravities to wait for them. After the missile strike we'll assess the damage and if they can't react I'll send the V and Ws and the HACs in for pin point energy bombardment. The "Grendels" will give cover. What are you going to be doing during the planning? "Infamous" and "Vulcan" will be second guessing the assessments before "Vulcan" passes them to the missiles. You have the last chips we have of Harbouria? They are hopelessly out of date but the geography won't have changed...

You will cover our withdrawal, as we'll go out the way we came in with your HACs screening...

I'm going to have "Shriek" drop out of hyper ahead of us, have a global Period sweep and if all clear we go out, if not we wait and adjust the time frame. We'll withdraw to the hyper limit and "Shriek" will precede us. She will remain with you as an additional screening unit astern. Period will be shut down on "Vector", "Infamous" and "Vulcan" for the approach. The outriders will globally sweep outside the cube irregularly once every twenty minutes. Any questions? Probably hundreds. The orders are being transmitted as I speak; get your CIC familiar with the scheme and the planet's geography. Brief the HAC crews in two days. Just in case have three HAC flights in defensive mode at instant ready status. McCock clear!"

Sir Victor turned to his friend,

"I enjoyed doing nasty things in training exercises to keep us on the alert. Now I know how it feels to be on the receiving end of the shaft. Still one thing remains the same. We are gonna ream the Harbourians a new one and they had to invite us along to give then a helping hand!"

Scotty looked Sir Victor in the eye,

"You're only pleased because you finally got to name your HAC "Iris B""

"There is that."

Later, on HMS "Infamous".

"Signal from Flag, action stations. "Shriek" about to translate."

"Action Stations, please OW. Acknowledge signal."

"From Flag. "Shriek" reports clear. Translate and formation Charlie"

"Acknowledge signal. Helm translate. Oh I hate this, ugh!"

"Fold sails. Impellors at two forty gravs. Shields hole-in-space. Tuck us in behind "Vector". Thank you. Who has the watch? Stand down from Action Stations, watch and watch. COHAC? Put the flights at their status. COB? Meals organized? I'll be in my cabin."

"Commodore leaving the bridge."

Caine moved quietly about the Admiral's cabin making disorder disappear with a deft touch here and there. His Admiral sat at her desk just moving chips around. He put a cup of cocoa by her right hand and she looked up at him,

"Caine, this is the first time in my naval career that I have sent my people into harm's way and I have not been with them in some part of the operation personally; and I do not like the feeling. Now I know how Sir Thomas has felt. He has carried the burden for almost two decades. It is an eerie unpleasant feeling."

On "Vector",

"Commodore, first reports from the UVAs. Their Periods also report a fleet off to the far side of the planet below the plane, preliminary assessment five SD(N) and another five as large we haven't anything on. There are at least two CA squadrons covering them."

"Designate them Bogey one but don't put them in our target list. Yet. Pass it onto "Infamous" and "Vulcan". V and Ws top up bunker mass and pass the bladders onto "Vulcan" and "Infamous"."

"All Grendels "Vector". Comments on the 'puter results. Their Navy base hasn't shifted. That Harbourian home Fleet is a significantly stronger then I'd have expected and there is a lot of that new construction. The infrastructure of the planet is grouped about the capital. Disregard targets outside a third sphere centered on the Navy Base. Disregard Bogey One. Turn the 'puters loose on the missile requirements on the primary targets and then the secondary. Suits in order?"

"Grendel suits"

"Gorgon suits"

"Giant suits"

"Gremlin suits"

"See to it, "Vector" clear..." McCock turned his attention to his bridge,

"Nav tac lock that UVA over the base and retrieve the remainder, officer of the watch I'm going for a sleep."

"COHAC Commodore. How are your crews bearing up?"

"No problems Sir. Rotations are going well and no strain showing. How is the targeting going?"

"We've got agreement on primary and secondary. Looking like sixty percent of "Vulcan's" load. The tertiaries are coming through. We'll put them in the ready room for your crews to look at. Aggy has excluded outside the one third sphere centred on the Naval base. By the time the HACs go in it will be shortest distance and that I like. That Bogey one is still out here. The look of it suggests it's working up. We haven't got a lock on it, its too far away but the UVA over Harbouria has it at near extreme range."

"Scotty for me, that SD(N) fleet can stay as far away as it likes."

"Agreed".

""Vector", "Vulcan", all missiles are primed. My 'puter says forty three minutes to release. Twelve hours and fifteen minutes to firing time and about five minutes to impact."

""Vulcan", begin your advance to lead task group. Yaw and release authorized at your mark. Charley charley, warm up the KeyHACs, send them in at four hundred when "Vulcan" releases and fly them to their positions. "Vector" clear."

"Charley charley, "Vulcan" five, four, three, two, one, mark! Missiles releasing over next three minutes."

"All Grendels "Vector" release the KeyHACS now. "Infamous" at eleven hours, launch your space cover HACs. Clear."

"Commodore, UVA one reports Bogey one has turned for base. Making three eighty gravs. Estimate sixteen hours and some minutes for him to cover the distance. Our missiles have nine hours and fifty minutes to run."

"Thank you, Tac. Call me in eight hours and notify my steward I'll want a meal."

McCock entered the bridge, waved the Quartermaster to silence and contemplated his screens. The HACs were flushed and moving about the formation.

""Infamous", relocate your return route further out to our right please. I want to run KeyHACs and UVAs back directly to us. "Vulcan" how far behind the first wave is the missile reserve and confirm one hundred and twenty nests "Vector.""

""Vector", reserve group seven minutes gap confirm one twenty "Vulcan"".

""Vulcan", Bogey one is now a target. Start working up target Bogey one for the missile reserve. They will escape the planet's pull if we continue them ballistic. They will be in the path of Bogey one. As soon as the explosions start over the planet I anticipate he will go to red line and four hours to the planet. I want a close range firing down his throat. He'll be coming with full shields and I'll wager he'll get one of his leading CLs to forward on active ping. I would in his position. He needs to know what he's running into and a forward ping won't bounce off his hulls. "Vector" clear."

""Infamous", "Vector" I have bogey one as a potential target for missile reserve. Warn the HACs who have the docks as their targets they might have to take out stragglers from the enemy home fleet. I won't know until UVA shows the actual damage – if too many stragglers then the missile reserve goes into the harbour and our bombardment time is decreased to two hours, over."

"Vector", wilco. I'll get the UVA line fed here to give me an idea of what to do. Suits? "Infamous.""

""Infamous" thanks Scotty, "Vector" clear."

The clock ticked down. The screens darkened momentarly when over four thousand nests showed eight missiles a piece firing. There was no apparent response from the warships in the harbour.

The 'puters were up within seconds ready to respond to inputs from KeyHACs and UVAs but nothing changed and the targeting instructions were unchanged.

Screens went blank and only slowly came up.

"Commodore, Bogey one has increased to four hundred and is still accelerating. UVA does not show any movement over Harbourian Navy base. KeyHACs report all targets hit."

"Thank you... ; "Infamous" release the bombardment HACs. "Vance", "Victoria", "Washton", "Warbuton", you are released to bombard. "Infamous", "Shriek" and "Vulcan" figure eight turn around. "Grendels" turn thiry degrees left, swing your KeyHACs with you. Take up "Vulcan's" targeting of bogey one. "Vector" clear."

"Tac. Manoeuvre the UVA over the target areas as best you can and then recover our KeyHACs. Nav follow the "Grendels". Shortly I'll order a figure eight course reverse."

"Nav, when they are over the top of the base, send signal to the "Grendels" to figure of eight and "Vector" to follow them."

"All Grendels, "Vector", "Gremlin" to co ordinate targeting on Bogey one and time of firing the missiles. Point blank range please, "Vector" clear."

"Commodore, the lead Bogey One has started active pinging. Sweep time suggests covering one twenty degrees."

The HACs returned to "Infamous".

"V and Ws, form up on "Infamous" under her command and move with her towards hyper limit. "Infamous" take "Vulcan" and the V and Ws under command and in company move towards the hyper limit. "Shriek" make best possible to the hyper limit and hold there. Vector clear."

"Guns prime our missiles for those CLs"

The V and Ws came back along the return route passing the "Grendels".

Slow was on a swing back towards the retiring CHAC. The Harbourian CLs were almost in energy range when the missiles fired out of their nests. The powered run was three and a half minutes. The missiles were only about a third of their maximum velocity when they hit the advancing SD(N)s who were in two vertical walls. They were just beginning to yaw when eighty four attack missiles hit each one. Four SDs disappeared immediately followed by another three moments later. The remaining three were just drifting collections of metal. The CL squadrons immediately turned away from their late big brothers. McCock let them go and recalled his "Grendels".

As the "Grendels" formed up on "Infamous", McCock sent "Shriek" into hyper to explore. She reported all clear and the augmented squadron translated for Maureen's Moon where R 1 rejoined. R 1 had spent her time at the Star in company with a DD. While those needing refueling bunkered, McCock addressed his crews.

"All companies, I am Commodore McCock. You have just successfully completed training live firing exercises code named "NEVER HAPPENED" in the Maureen's Moon training area. We suffered losses of two HACs in a mid air collision and one HAC damaged by friendly fire. I have an empty brig on "Vector". If you are found talking even among yourselves about this exercise you had better pray that we find others talking out of turn because you will spend your time alone there in solitary until "Vector" is broken up. It has been a pleasure working with you. McCock clear."



-------

Chapter 77



"Where is Andrea, Millicent?" asked McCock as the Squadron approached the Maureen's Moon junction.

"She joined "Infamous"."

"Without permission makes you stowaways."

Millicent smiled widely,

"I think I'd prefer to call myself an official observer."

They sat in McCock's cabin where Millicent Utah was almost inhaling her second helping.

"Where were you?"

"In the Boat Bay ready room. I was there before you left and your crews regarded me as part of the furniture. We never made a big thing of who we were when we were formally aboard but most of your crew had seen me at one time or another and we were always in unmarked skin suits. Having to live off the ready room's snacks was the worst of it. I hacked into the command circuits and the ready room screens now show an amazing lot of information."

"Millicent, I should lock you up and throw away the key."

Utah gave McCock the fish eye and pointed out,

"I out rank you, you know."

McCock grinned back evilly,

"I am not in your Service, remember? I command the Naval element of the 'Queen's Own Regiment and Palace Guard Service' and you stand, well, sit, in my domain. Still I'd have to explain your status to your Admiral so I'll deprive myself of the pleasure".

"Its nice having friends in high places" and continued in more serious tones, "You are a control freak, Aggy, you know that?"

McCock admitted his fault,

"Agreed; and that could have wrecked the operation. What I had I was just able to manage and when we joined combat I realized it but it was somewhat late. During the moves before the engagement of that ancillary fleet action I realized just how deep I could be in it and began delegating sub-commands but it should have been in place before the task group moved out."

Being an excellent staff officer with many "Crusher" courses behind her, Millicent gently probed,

"In retrospect, how should you have set it up?"

McCock had been thinking about it:

""Gremlin" to command "Vulcan", "Vector", and the 'Grendels'. "Warburton" to command the V and Ws and to pass under "Infamous" for the bombardment. "Infamous" to be second in command of the group. Apart from "Shriek" I don't think I could have used the armed cutters because I had "Infamous". I had them in my mind as sacrificial cover if things had gone pear shaped. I would have lost ten, twenty minutes launching them in company. I got the KeyHACs and UVAs out but perhaps I should have left another or two 'reccys' out to give wider coverage of damage assessment and as backup. I think the KeyHACs under "Gremlin", the recce UVAs, and the cutters under me as Commodore; the reserve missile nests with two KeyHACs under me."

Millicent asked,

"Why didn't you use the HACs as cover once you translated?"

"If a HAC can see it, the HAC can be seen so my chances of being detected go up exponentially. I had Period which covered not quite the same volume as the HACs could. Let me bounce this off you, Millicent...

I think the makeup of this group is just about right for a raiding force...

But we should have at the centre a larger CHAC with the necessary 'puter power for the missiles, the 'puters in the 'Grendels' as backup; she should have a full complement of recce UVAs and KeyHACs. The screen of CL and DDs each with a cutter and UVA, perhaps a KeyHAC on the CL as well – there is space available and this multiplies the screens' Cruise missile. 'Puters in the screen to link with CHAC 'puter to give control over a larger missile first salvo and more missiles per salvo. Missile carrier to be virtually slaved to the CHAC. The Commander can be anywhere – perhaps on "Shriek" for this group? When we get back and settle I'll write up a paper for discussion."

Millicent nodded slowly,

"Why the secrecy?"

McCock looked blankly at her for a second before responding,

"Keep them guessing!"

Millicent pondered on that.

They were guessing. Eloise Pritchard looked across at her CNO.

"What hit us, Tom, and where did it come from?"

"Don't know and don't know."

Pritchard focused a shocked gaze on him,

"Would you care to expand on that for me?"

"Reports filtering through from neutrals confirm that even though we lost Lester and his fleets, the Mounties took a hell of a beating. There isn't much covering Mountserrat system and we know Cunningham commands it. No mention of Browne or Kuzak and we know Blue Hills is still first Lord. If either Browne or Kuzak had survived they'd command Home Fleet and Cunningham would be commanding Eighth. There is no mention of Eighth; there is no mention of Third either and we know Third isn't at Maureen's Moon; its got a scratch force of Renmark and Amiranti ships. Protector's Own and Renmark Home Fleet are close on Yarragh by all reports. So, what hit us? Don't know. Where did it come from? Don't know."

"Tom, you've got to do better than that!"

"Eloise, I'll tell you exactly what I have got. I know about those new missiles, a couple of fleets' worth of them, taking out everything, everything Eloise, there isn't even a destroyer left of the Home Fleet. I know HACs bombarded the planet –very professionally and carefully, I might add. I know something, using fifty centimetre energy gun mounts, type 71 and type 53 energy torpedoes from stable firing platforms took out everything – well nearly everything, I've heard we've got two power plants operational – in the city. In the city, Eloise. Carefully. Deliberately. That's all I've got. Third Fleet (Provisional) was returning from working up exercise when the base exploded. About two hours out ten SD(N)s were blown apart. I've got a very shaky CL Commodore who was the screen for the SDs. Brentwich had him out front actively pinging as they come up at redline. He says the missiles fired from behind him, between the screen and the SDs when they fired. Inside the Fleet screen, Eloise. He had nothing on active. Not a sniff of anything. The Commodore thinks whoever it was just let his squadron escape. If you think I am close to panic, you are wrong. I am panicking. I'm just too tired to throw a gibbering fit on your carpet, that's all...

What's the planetary damage?"

"You heard right! We've got only two power plants left this side of the planet. All the bridges, road and fast train infrastructure are destroyed. All the military bases. They took out a school building but that was probably an honest mistake; there was a missile battery and a big parade ground. Thank God, it was night and there were no students. The battery isn't there anymore either. There are no docks or warehouses. Every freighter except three destroyed. The three were Sollies who had their transponders transmitting. Their anchor watches took to the life pods when the fleet was being destroyed. There was some eight to ten minutes delay before the bombardment began on the docks. I can give you confirmation on your HACs, here!"

Eloise Pritchard passed a grainy photo across to him,

"Taken off the vid of a life pod. It was floating in the harbour when this came up and sniffed at him. I'm told the spacer is still screaming under sedation that should have him asleep for a month."

The CNO examined the image. Taking up the central portion of the print was the yawning maw of a graser muzzle. There was enough detail behind it to identify.

"That's a 'Shrike'. The Mounties don't have them in first line service now but for taking out the docks, yeah, they'd be ideal."

"Cunningham?" asked Eloise.

"Don't think so," slowly responded the CNO, "No! She'd have taken out Home Fleet and Third Fleet just as clinically and efficiently. But in the delay before bombardment she'd have made sure she got everything of the fleet and there was nothing left to intervene and been broadcasting warnings of the bombardment so that crews could abandon and give neutrals an opportunity to get their transponders up for identity. No! This is someone we haven't met before and he has the capacity and capability of a large fleet at his command – but there isn't a sign of anything at all. This one plays it exactly from the book and that school was probably an honest mistake. This is a cold efficient killing machine. Cunningham wouldn't have given anyone any extra time but would have warned more people to use it. But I'll still wager that, excepting those neutral freighters, the civilian deaths are in the hundreds."

"Under two hundred is the official civilian dead and it is only going to climb a little because there is virtually no civilian wreckage. Tom, have the Mounties got a new ally? Is there a new player?"

"That's it?' glared Admiral of the Fleet Bruce-Cunningham at her two truant staff officers standing somewhat at attention before her desk – it had been some years, well, actually, decades since the pair had performed any parade ground drills; "that's all he says?"

"Ah, Admiral," ventured Millicent, "we don't know what "it" is. The Commodore handed the chip to me as I departed just ordering me to report directly to you."

Virginia spun the screen to show the message:

To: Admiral of the Fleet H. Bruce – Cunningham

Commander, Home Fleet, RMN

From: Commodore HMS McCock

Commander, "The Queen's Own, QOR&PGS

Re Operation "NEVER HAPPENED"

Admiral,

Returned to your command HMS "Infamous" and HMS "Vulcan"

Their participation in "Never Happened" is recorded.

The level of skills demonstrated was as expected of the RMN.

Sgd HMS McCock

Footnote: All aspects of "Never Happened" are covered by the Treasons Act and the Official Secrets' Act.

"A man of few words, our Aggy," chuckled Andrea, "why the secrecy?"

Virginia looked sternly at her subordinates,

"By the way you two, consider yourselves smartly tapped across the back of the hand by a wet kerchief for bring absent from your duty post. The secrecy? Aggy is playing mind games with the Harbourians. Their government must be twisting itself into pretzels trying to sort out what happened."

Andrea impolitely snorted,

"The Harbourians have got a lot more on their plate to worry about."

"Sit you two," Virginia directed, "Caine, refreshments, please. Now, the full story."

"I sat it out in "Vector's" boat bay ready room watching the vid screens" Millicent informed her listeners, "I only came out on the way home. If he'd found me before, McCock would have tossed me into the brig – well, put me in a cabin under close arrest with a sentry on the door. What about you, Andrea?"

"I just waltzed up to Scotty, the first day out and let him believe I was there as an observer on Virginia's behalf. I saw it all. Believe me I am now even more grateful we stopped the Harbourians. McCock destroyed Harbouria. Oh, no! There was no 'Eridani'. I doubt if there is more than five hundred civilian collateral deaths but the Harbourians have taken a very big hit. We came out of hyper..."

The Queen took the formal paper report from her PS and began to read,

Your Majesty,

I have the honour to report that your forces under my command have achieved a great victory resulting from a raid on Harbouria.

Our losses were two HACs and their crews (annex A) with minor damage to a third HAC with no casualties.

Your forces destroyed one hundred and fifty four SDs, seventeen CHACs, and their supporting elements in the Noveau Liege Naval Base (annex B). An additional ten SDs were destroyed as they approached the NL harbour.

Your forces then conducted a professionally directed bombardment of the Harbouria infrastructure and military installations sufficient that in my opinion it will be three years before Harbouria is restored. (annex C).

Your forces participating in the operation were as at annex D.

I draw to you especial attention the exemplary conduct and skills of LtCdr A. Wamirant throughout the planning and conduct of the operation. He commanded HMS "Vulcan" attached to your forces.

I mention the services of HMS "Infamous" as being that of the highest standard of your Navy.

I am

Your most Humble and Obdt Servant

HMS McCock

"Definitely a dukedom," said the Queen, "definitely! ... No. Too fast. Would upset the Lords; and wouldn't that be a bad thing. The Sollies would take offence and that could be bad ... Birthday's Honours List next year ... for meritorious service to the Crown at Gorgipest, Baron McCock and Baronetcies to the Flock and the widow. Special Gazette now for the Battle of Gorgipest ... posthumous PMV for Cowboy, DSO to McCock, MCs to the Captains ... Sovereign's Thanks to each of the crew? No ... too high and that's an individual thing ... Got it ... Queens' Colours and Battle Honours to the ships.

Sir Humphrey, get me the First Lord, please; I want a word."



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Chapter 78


Glossary For Aggy Book

'Sniffy': "In fah mous" said with a head cold.

AI: artificial intelligence; an intelligent 'puter (an oxymoron).

Bugout: rapidly depart the immediate area as either bad things are happening or are about to happen to the departee.

CI: abv for counter intelligence; efforts by us to prevent them from gathering intelligence about us.

Clean: as applied to electronic repairs' shop. Double hatch entry to restrict idle visitors. Highly filtered air.always with controlled environment, attractive to idle visitors hence double hatches.

Com: shorthand for communication; Com Officer — knock knock boy aka please speak to me; often seen with two flags tucked under arm clutching an Aldis Lamp.

Drum: received the information and got it drummed into thick skull.

EVA: extra vehicular activity; peculiar to space; never used for getting out of a ground shuttle to answer call of nature.

EW: abv for electronic warfare; using electronic means to find them; CEW counter EW — blocking their attempts to find or destroy me; CCEW — you get the idea; on large vessels crew available to handle each modality, in small vessel a one armed paper hanger working in a gale.

FTL: faster than light; Einstein got it wrong, if it is measurable then can be exceeded.

HAC: heavily armed cutter.

HMG: abv for Her / His Majesty's Government.

HMSS: His / Her Majesty's Space Station.

i/c: abv for inertial compensator; just that — compensates for inertia when moving; only boffins know how they work. Painful when fails — for a nanosecond.

Intel: abv for intelligence; information however gathered, usually about them (Carlton regards Intelligence Officer as an oxymoron.)

Lloyds: as in Lloyds of London; started as coffee shop in 17th century in London with special interest in marine insurance. Became very influential and was able to lay down structural requirements for ships at building and for reinspection and thus allocate insurance rate. Kept Lloyds register of shipping. Highest standard was A1 at Lloyds — safe ship likely to complete voyage. In 20th century diversified and spread. In 21st century had to be financially rescued. Moral of the story — stick to what you know.

LOB: living off base; depending upon where base is located can save or lose heaps.

Loc: location (hopefully known, if not refer to nav).

Nav: Navigator aka "pilot" as in marine variety. Motto of Navigation School is "Weartafukarwe". When asked usually can't be exact. It is that margin of error which is of greatest interest to enquirers. Invariably seen with compass, sextant and map (not of the space we are occupying at this time).

Navcom: an electronic instrument which receives a navigational signal and displays that result combined with a standard com (transmit and receive)WARNING known to sulk; when it does refer to nav.

NOB: an electronic signal which when received and properly comprehended can give the recipient an idea of his present location provided the location of the transmitter is known; if loc is not known refer to nav.

PDA: Personal / Pocket Data Application; all singing all dancing hand held 'puter with com capability.

R&D: research and development; an easy place to get tax write offs as usually loses much cash.

Rebro: shorthand for rebroadcast in sense of receiving electronic signal from somewhere and then transmitting the information to somewhere else. Sometime on a different frequency and perhaps further encrypted. Often fails; batteries flat, incorrect rebro freq, recipient does not have the same code.

RX: shorthand for rebroadcast transmission or rotational TX depending upon context.

Satcom: satellite with com equipment.

Sol: shorthand for Solar System; lazily used to refer to its third planet, "Earth".

Tac: abv for tactical; handles matter of the mess we are now in and how we got here; as doesn't have a clue how to get out of this mess without landing in a bigger mess, hands matter to Captain —your problem now Sir.

TX: shorthand for electronic com transmission or transmit depending upon context.


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The End
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Posted:  2009-02-09
Last Modified: 2010-09-11 / 11:26:09 pm
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