“Colonel Riggs?” he said with a mild east European accent. “I’m Captain Miklos. We have only just been assigned this vessel. Why do you ask us to leave our new ship?”
Inwardly, I sighed. I had sympathy for Miklos. Getting your own new ship to command, especially one of these amazing new destroyers, was exhilarating. I knew I was seriously raining on his parade.
“I’m sorry, Captain,” I said. “I need to take her up. With luck, I’ll bring her back in a day or so.”
“And if you have no luck, sir?”
“Then I won’t be coming back at all.”
Captain Miklos stared at me, nodding slowly as he gained an inkling of what I intended to do.
“Does our Admiral Crow approve of this expedition?”
“I haven’t asked him. But if I did, he would most definitely approve.”
Captain Miklos laughed briefly, catching my joke. It was no secret that Crow and I were frequently at each other’s throats. Any risky action I took that removed me from the home front—especially a mission that might be fatal—was a winner in Crow’s book.
“Will you not need a crew to go with you, Colonel?” Miklos asked suddenly. He lifted his chin and looked over his nose at me.
I reached up and removed my helmet. I could tell now I wasn’t going to need the battle suit to take the ship by force. Hell, they were volunteering to go out there with me.
“Captain,” I said, looking him eye-to-eye, “I can’t ask you to make that kind of sacrifice. I’m only taking a destroyer because they are faster than the smaller ships. I don’t need to kill a good crew along with it.”
Miklos nodded. “I understand, sir. But do you have the right to order me off my own vessel?”
I sighed. Star Force was different than traditional national navies. We had slowly developed our own rules of conduct. We had started as a group of pirate captains in a loose association. In many ways, we still thought that way, especially among the members of the Fleet. A captain was still something of a king aboard his own vessel.
“No,” I said. “I do not have that right.”
Miklos seemed pleased. He knew I’d once been on the Fleet side of Star Force, and I understood their code of honor. “Colonel,” he said. “I believe I know something of what you intend. But this ship is designed to be flown by a full crew. I ask if I can volunteer to accompany you—along with any of my crew who agree to join us.”
Surprised by his adventurism, I agreed. “All right,” I said. “She’s your command. I’m visiting brass. If you agree to accept my missions as Fleet orders, you can fly this vessel for me.”
He swept his eyes over his crew. During our discussion, the group had gathered on the bridge. All told, there were three. The complement of marines I’d planned for each of these ships weren’t yet deployed. I was the only marine, and the only man in a battle suit.
In the end, all three agreed to come. None of them could bear to be the coward, to turn away while their captain and I watched them. Star Force did not recruit cowards. I was proud of them all, even if the gunner did look a little green.
“When do we take off, sir?” Captain Miklos asked.
“Immediately. I’ve already cleared it with traffic control. Give them my priority code.”
I listed a series of letters and digits. I’d long since arranged codes to allow immediate access to the skies over Andros. Every day it seemed Crow added fresh red tape and I had to work to drive a knife through it. Today, that preparation helped. The destroyer lifted off without being challenged or even causing a stir on the base. As far as I knew, Crow thought I’d gone to eat dinner.
Even though I figured that Crow wouldn’t try to stop me if he knew what I was doing, I didn’t feel like explaining it to him. He would have objections if he suspected some of my contingency plans. He would also most likely insist I take Socorro instead of one of his precious new destroyers. He might be right in that regard, but I didn’t care. If this went well, we wouldn’t need the destroyer today. If it went badly, one ship more or less wasn’t going to save Earth from the Macro fleet.
“What’s the name of your ship, Captain?” I asked as I felt the deck heave and swell under my armored feet.
“The Barbarossa, sir,” he said.
I nodded, my face registering some level of surprise. The name meant ‘red beard’ in Italian, but had been used in many other historical contexts. I was immediately curious as to how Captain Miklos had struck upon the name. Unlike traditional naval forces, Star Force had a long-standing tradition of allowing commanders to name their own ships. This stemmed from our roots, where each commander had to fight to the death to win the right to command each Nano ship. Captains usually thought long and hard before they assigned their first ship a name.
“Barbarossa…” I said thoughtfully. “That name means different things to different people, captain. Such as the German campaign to take out Russia in World War Two.”
“That’s not the meaning I was thinking of,” Captain Miklos said quickly. “I reached back to the oldest meaning. Fredrick Barbarossa was the Holy Roman Emperor of a thousand years past, a great military leader. It has been whispered for centuries that he would return some day to save Europe from evil.”
“Ah, I see,” I said, getting the reference at last. “In that case, rest assured. This ship will get the chance to live up to its name very soon.”
Captain Miklos looked pleased. I could tell this man had guts and dreams of glory. I liked him already. The other crewmembers exchanged worried glances. I didn’t blame them—they were in for quite a ride.
-14-
We reached low orbit within minutes. We slid around the world near the equator once, then flung ourselves up and away sunward. About then, Crow had finally figured out I wasn’t coming back from dinner.
“Riggs? Where are you taking my brand new destroyer?”
I grunted, unhappy to hear Crow’s voice reverberate from the dull metal walls of the bridge. The volume seemed deeper and the chamber echoed somewhat. The size of the ship made everything feel a little different aboard the destroyer. I’d had a vague hope I would get away from Earth without having to explain myself to anyone other than Sandra. Those hopes had been firmly trashed.
“Greetings Admiral Crow,” I said. “I’m taking the ship out for a shake-down cruise. You know I plan to put my marines on these vessels. I need to plan a release hatch and a launch and retrieval mechanism.”
“Smooth bullshit,” Crow marveled. “But it still smells. You are the only marine aboard, and there is no reason to fly right into the teeth of the approaching Macro fleet. Now, tell me what the bloody hell you are doing up there in my ship?”
I sighed. Crow was many things, but he wasn’t dumb. I looked around at Captain Miklos and his crew. They appeared uncomfortable. I’m sure their loyalties were divided. If Admiral Crow ordered them to return to base, what would they do? I wasn’t sure. I didn’t feel right putting them on the spot, either. I decided to try to explain myself to Crow, at least partly—if only for the sake of the crew. But I was going to do what I had to.
I was still wearing my battle suit. I picked up my helmet, the one missing piece. Every one of the crew members watched me closely. The gunner looked baffled. The helmsman’s face was blank. But Captain Miklos knew what the move signified. He eyed me worriedly. We exchanged glances, and he read the truth in my eyes. I didn’t try to hide it. If Crow ordered us back, I was going to use the battle suit to take over Barbarossa. The crewmen had hand-beamers, but they were useless against heavy armor. They could only draw a few smoking scars on the outer plates. I didn’t want to do something so monumentally unfair, but in war unpleasantness was often necessary.