The smaller ships each needed a captain, a pilot, and a gunner for each gun. Total minimum staffing for these ships came to 60.
Ninety men for each squadron meant they could only field eleven squadrons, not nearly enough. Discussion became heated, but Chandrajuski made the final decision. Each squadron would receive one-half of the necessary complement of Terrans. They would just have to make it work. Aboard cruisers and frigates, one Terran would have to operate a battery all by himself. They would be going up against Empire ships, but those ships, too, would likely be operating with reduced staffing. As soon as the Chessori activated their scree, only the Chessori would be available to fly and fight the ship.
No one was certain how many Chessori were aboard Rebel ships, nor did anyone know their levels of expertise, but it seemed reasonable to count on a significant reduction in capability. After all, the Chessori’s primary weapon was the scree. They would anticipate easy pickings from any attackers.
Trexler knew and understood the odds. He also knew that the Chessori’s best defense would be to keep the Rebel ships fully functional by not using the scree. If the Chessori had that level of discipline, his men and women would face a fully operational opponent and would not stand a chance. They would have no option but to back out of the net and let the Empire crews duke it out. If the scree was used, the odds were very much improved and his men had a chance.
He would have liked to think that everything depended on the skill levels of his men and women, but in reality everything hinged on the abilities and discipline of the Chessori. In his favor, his crews were all warriors, and they were, in effect, defending their home. They would be effective if given the slightest chance.
Chandrajuski fielded 22 squadrons consisting of some 270 ships. Still not nearly enough, but it would have to do. Initially, their only purpose was to rid the Empire of ships taken over by the Chessori. It soon became apparent, however, that other demands would be made on these squadrons. One minimally trained squadron was dispatched to Brodor at Mike’s request. Three more squadrons would be used for picket duty at Parsons’ World, and one squadron would be assigned to travel with the Queen. Engineers were converting as many ships as they could into fast ships, but it was a slow, tedious process. Clearly, if Struthers discovered that Parsons’ World was Ellie’s headquarters, he would attack in overwhelming numbers. They had to keep a reserve of ships there.
Trexler was now wishing he’d brought two or three thousand more sailors with him. It was an unreasonable wish, but he wished for it anyway. After much soul searching, he dispatched an officer back to Earth with a request for more help: any combination of pilots and gunners for the fleet and more special operations ground troops for Waverly. The new troops would be months away, but it was his responsibility as commander to ensure a steady stream of reinforcements and replacements.
K rys
Chapter Ten
“No Chessori,” Stven muttered to himself as Rappor’s screens filled. The great, purple dragon felt a puff of noxious gas coming on, but he swallowed it. His pilot, M’Sada, simply could not suffer the pain it caused him. “That’s a bit unusual.”
“Thanks for swallowing, Captain. It’s not the normal pattern, I agree.” M’Sada’s two upper hands, almost never still, finished preening his whiskers and moved on to his two long antennae. His remaining eight short legs jerked from time to time as his conscious mind, mostly disconnected from his body, roamed the net. “I’ll keep an eye out, though. They seem to find us no matter where we go.”
Sangia IV lay three weeks ahead. It would be their twelfth stop on this remarkable, clandestine voyage, a voyage that had been immensely successful. Stven had changed the ship’s beacon code after each stop, something completely illegal and unknown within the rest of the Empire, and it seemed to be helping, but a pattern had emerged: inbound legs to each world had been free of threat, but somehow the Chessori were always on their tail when they left, regardless of how careful they’d been during meetings. Early jumps were dangerous, and he fretted. He couldn’t keep it up forever without risking the ship, but there was no ready alternative.
Stven had made a number of changes to crew assignments over the many months they’d been together. Knowing that a confrontation with the Chessori was inevitable, he’d decided to train the Great Cats to fly the ship. They already had the basics, but he wanted them to use the full capabilities of the net. That meant the rest of the crew was out of the net, but that was okay if it kept them alive.
The skills of the Great Cats grew logarithmically with access to the net. No longer did they operate guns manually. They had the full benefit of targeting data, tracking, and communication with their captain, the Great Cat Borg. Gordi’i and Kali’i, Rappor’s gunners, had the AI throw everything at them that it could, and the cats’ performance now was second to no one within the fleet.
Gortlan, the engineer, trained Tarn in the process of changing the beacon code of Rappor. While they worked on that, Stven and M’Sada improved their own skills of keeping the net alive without an AI. The AI had to be completely shut down when changing the beacon, and the two on the bridge had their hands full managing the ship without its assistance. Krys was brought in to help, and though her mechanical skills were not good, she could alert them to problems as she prowled the ship through the net.
Stven was confident that each position now had at least one backup, and the Great Cats would take over completely if they encountered the Chessori mind weapon.
Rappor landed at the civilian port on Sangia IV, and Stven went by himself to the operations office to log in his arrival.
“I’ll need a complete manifest,” the agent told him.
“You need what?”
“A complete manifest. New procedures,” the creature told him, “and I’ll need to log in your captain’s certificate.”
Stven hesitated, then listed fictitious names for Krys and Tarn. Since at least one Great Cat would have to accompany Krys to any meetings she set up, he simply listed Great Cat instead of a name.
“Their kind are not allowed here anymore,” the creature said as he examined the document. “He will have to remain aboard.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Stven said angrily. A small puff escaped from one nostril, but he did not apologize. “My passenger is a wealthy socialite. Her father will fire me if I let her out without protection.”
“I’ll put you in touch with a protection service. Their fees are substantial, but they’re good.”
“I think I’ll bring the cat instead.”
The creature looked at him closely. “I don’t recommend it, Captain. It won’t make it past the perimeter of the port alive.”
“Who’s going to stop a Great Cat?”
The creature lowered its voice. “I don’t like it either, but that’s the way it is. Look around on your way back to the ship. The port is well-defended.”
“Look, her father is a friend of Admiral Stebbenz. Are you going to buck his authority when she calls him?”
“Stebbenz is dead. His replacement instigated the new rules. Sorry.”
The man’s communicator buzzed. He took the call, then looked askance at Stven. “It appears there’s some irregularity with your certificate. Please proceed through the door over there,” he said, pointing down a long corridor.