USS WALKER—Scapa Flow
“It’s official,
Skipper,” Ed Palmer said, handing over a sheet of the yellowish
Imperial paper. It was a report via Government House forwarded
straight to Matt. “Two Imperial frigates tried to enter the harbor
at New Dublin and take possession of the Dom ships that escaped the
battle and wound up there. The frigates were fired on by the forts!
There was no damage, and they lit out, but New Ireland’s either
been occupied by the Doms—or they’ve thrown their hat in the ring
with ’em.”
Matt had been leaning
on the rail by the signal lockers behind the pilothouse, surrounded
by Bradford, Spanky, Chack, and the Bosun. All were staring aft at
the repairs underway. Sparks jetted from torches, and lines and
hoses littered the deck. Almost all the hull damage was on the
starboard side, and scaffolds had been rigged to straighten plates
and rerivet seams near the waterline. When that work was finished,
they’d turn the ship and continue upward from the safety of the
dock. (Even if the local variety of flashies weren’t as big, or
apparently as insatiable, as those within the Malay Barrier, they
were still damned dangerous, and there’d been a lot more in the
neighborhood since the battle.)
They had all the help
they needed. Walker had actually been
given priority over the Imperial ships in the yard, but she had
plenty of hands with the arrival of Simms, and local technicians and specialists were
better employed fixing Imperial damage. Some of the female yard
workers still tried to do anything they could. They wanted to help. Chief Bashear finally told them to
get scrapers, chippers, and brushes and turned them loose with
paint cans. The portside had barely been touched, since
TaciTus had absorbed most of the shot
fired from that direction. They could paint there until the
starboard side was ready.
Spanky was a
hero—again. He’d fought Walker
brilliantly after power was restored, and through speed and
maneuver he’d savaged most of the Dom ships that Tacitus and Euripides
had protected Walker from—then worked
tirelessly to save them in turn. Matt finally forced him to accept
that he was Walker’s de facto exec.
Either Tabby could handle engineering or she couldn’t. Which would
it be? Reluctantly, Spanky admitted she was “better than most”
engineering officers he’d known, and if he “helped her out” now and
then, she could probably “manage.”
The new Nancy had
been assembled and lowered over the side to keep it safe and out of
the way, but Reynolds was in no shape to fly it. He was banged up
and needed a rest, but his worst injury was mental. He blamed
himself for Kari-Faask’s critical condition, and even if she lived,
Matt wasn’t sure the young flier would bounce back. Maybe he should
talk to him. He knew all too well how it felt when someone died
because he’d made a mistake. Ultimately, he would order the kid to
fly if he had to—they needed recon now more than ever—but it was
important for Reynolds to snap out of it on his own . . . if he
could.
Matt took the sheet
from Palmer and looked it over before passing it to Spanky.
“Stupid,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” Palmer
agreed. Everyone was mentally and physically exhausted from the
labor of repairing the ship. The services for Frankie, Miami, and
nearly thirty ’Cat sailors and Marines had left them emotionally
drained as well. Sensing the dark mood that prevailed, Palmer
quietly left the bridge.
“So what’s the deal,
Courtney?” Matt asked. Almost a week had passed since the battle,
and Bradford had spent most of the time sequestered with the
Governor-Emperor and Sean “O’Casey” Bates. Gerald McDonald was much
improved, almost magically so, and Selass had decided not to remove
his leg. He would limp forever, but he would walk—and live. Even as
the man’s health improved, his rage toward the Dominion became more
acute. “Has anybody found Don Hernan yet?”
“Regrettably, no.
It’s assumed he’s still hiding on New Scotland, and no leaf shall
be left unturned.... Realistically, it’s suspected that he already
made his escape aboard one of several small craft seen departing
Leith, even while the outcome of the battle here was still in
question. Unfortunately, no word of the attack reached the town
until the following day.”
“Damn.” Matt looked
at Spanky. “No, he bolted at just the right time. As soon as
Walker steamed into battle, the outcome
wasn’t in doubt.”
“Thanks, Skipper, and
damn straight! But all we had to do was make a stir while everyone
else woke up.”
“And he knew that,”
agreed Matt, “so my bet is he’s gone. Damn!” he repeated. “Having
that sick bastard on the loose is like walking barefoot and
blindfolded through a pen full of rattlesnakes.”
“Silly devil in a red
dress—he don’t scare me,” said the Bosun.
“He should, Boats,”
Matt told him, “because I’ll also bet that most of this crackpot,
shoestring scheme—that almost worked—was his. Had to be. Reed was a true
‘convert,’ and he might’ve even had some pull, but I don’t think
the Dominion was taking any orders from him.”
“I doubt our Imperial
friends would call a major fleet action a ‘shoestring’ affair
either!” Courtney said.
“But it wasn’t
supposed to be a fleet action,” said
Spanky, “and it wouldn’t have been if us and Jenks hadn’t sniffed a
rat.” He shook his head.
“So, Courtney,”
continued Matt, a little hesitantly, “you thought you’d wrap up
your other ‘negotiations’ today?”
“Um, yes. The Empire
of the New Britain Isles formally requests full membership in the
Grand Alliance—pending ratification by the other members, of
course.”
“That’s what I
figured,” Matt replied flatly.
Courtney’s face
reddened. “Captain Reddy, you’ve done your job and now I’ve done
mine! One reason we came here in the first place was to secure an
alliance with these people.”
“Yeah, and maybe
we’ve ‘done that job,’ ” Matt ground out, “but we haven’t
accomplished our mission.”
“The Company is dead,
at least as it was,” Chack offered lamely, blinking
uncertainty.
“Yeah, but we didn’t
... find the girls . . . and damn it, we didn’t get . . .
even!”
“You killed Reed,”
Gray pointed out.
“Not good enough! Not
anymore.” Matt gestured around at the ravaged fleet in the harbor
and the damage to his own ship. The destruction and loss suffered
ashore weren’t visible, but it was present in all their thoughts.
The civilian casualties from the indiscriminate Dom artillery had
been appalling. “And the list has gotten a whole lot longer. To
‘get even’ now, we’ve got a full-blown, two-ocean war on our hands!
You think Adar will thank us for that?”
“Adar will
understand, Cap-i-taan Reddy,” Chack said. “Never forget the person
he is. He knows the evil of the Grik. Do not doubt he will
recognize the evil of the Dominion, and he is not alone. Most of
our people have come to understand that evil, in whatever form,
cannot simply be ignored. We have as much reason to help these
people against their evil enemy as they have to help
us.”
“I guess we’ve just
got to fight the ‘war we’re at,’ Skipper, like you said,” growled
the Bosun softly. “Wherever we are.”
Ed Palmer rushed back
onto the bridge, flourishing another sheet. “Skipper!” he almost
shouted.
“What now?” Spanky
growled. “Every time you show up like this, somethin’ has just come
off the rails. Makes it easier to understand why folks used to kill
messengers!”
“We got another
transmission from the resupply squadron out of Respite! They
finally heard from Manila—good news for a change, sir!” Ed said,
glancing at Spanky. “Well, not all good . . . but the good part’s
great, I swear!”
Almost reluctantly,
Matt took the sheet and began to read, skipping the
preface.
TALAUD ISLAND OBLITERATED BY UNPRECEDENTED VOLCANIC EVENT X MASSIVE WAVE UNKNOWN SIZE HAS STRUCK SOUTH FIL-PIN LAND MINDANAO X NO SURVIVORS FOUND VICINITY OF PAGA—DAAN X SEARCH CONTINUES X SLIGHT DAMAGE MANILA BUT MANY OTHER SETTLEMENTS SEVERELY AFFECTED X RESCUE EFFORT COORDINATED BY COLONEL SHINYA AND ARMY—NAVY ELEMENTS X MAY DISRUPT LOGISTICS TRAIN CEYLON OPERATION X ADMIRAL KEJE-FRIS-AR AND GENERAL ALDEN ADVISED TO COMMENCE OPS AT DISCRETION XXX
US SUBMARINE S-19 DISCOVERED BADLY DAMAGED BUT UNDERWAY WEST OF SAMAR X EXPEDITION HAS SUFFERED SEVERE CASUALTIES BUT HAS RESCUED SEVENTY ONE (71) SURVIVORS TAGRANESI PEOPLE X LT IRVIN LAUMER ALSO BEGS TO REPORT RESCUE XXX
IMPERIAL PERSONNEL X PRINCESS REBECCA ANNE MCDONALD X MIDSHIPMAN STUART BRASSEY XXX
ALLIED PERSONNEL X MIDSHIPMAN ABEL COOK X TAGRANESI LAWRENCE X SISTER AUDRY X CHIEF GUNNER’S MATE DENNIS SILVA X CAPTAIN LELAA-TAL-CLERAAN X MINISTER OF MEDICINE SANDRA TUCKER X GOD THE MAKER BLESS THEM X MESSAGE ENDS XXX
The page began to
shake in Matt’s hand and a bright sheen covered his eyes. “My
Lord,” he said hoarsely and wiped his face with his sleeve. He
cleared his throat. “Uh, please send this to Government House, with
my congratulations, to the Governor-Emperor and his
wife.”
“What is it,
Captain?” Spanky asked.
Matt’s lips formed a
genuine, delighted smile, and he handed over the message. “Read it
aloud, Spanky, then post a copy. Everybody aboard deserves to see
it.” His eyes started to fill again. “Now, if you gentlemen will
excuse me, I think I’ll . . . take a short nap on my cot in the
chart house. I’ll be along shortly with a reply, Mr. Palmer,” he
said, and turned away before the tears spilled down his face.
“Carry on,” he added, closing the chart house hatch behind
him.
Spanky read the
message, but then he, Gray, Courtney, Chack, and Palmer remained by
the rail in silence. They were exuberant, but also a little
uncomfortable. Unspoken, all their thoughts were on Captain Reddy
and how this latest news would hit him. He’d always been a rock—but
a hot rock will crack when you pour cold water on it. Less than a
minute later, to their surprise, Matt banged open the hatch and
strode back to face them, a huge grin splitting his lips. His eyes
were still red, but no trace of moisture remained.
“Belay that, Palmer,”
he commanded. “Let’s go send a reply right now; then I’ll take the
message ashore to the Governor-Emperor myself! I’ve got some ideas
about this ‘new’ war I’d like to kick around with him
anyway.”
“Well, sure, Skipper
. . .” Palmer said.
“What about that . .
. nap, Captain?” Gray asked, a little concerned. “You been pushin’
yourself awful hard. . . .”
Matt laughed, and the
sound was . . . right. “So have you, Boats. So has everybody. The
hell with that. All of a sudden, I’m not really tired
anymore!”