“Sir, if you’ll do as I ask, I guarantee a win.”
“There are no guarantees in warfare, Ray. We face a monumental uphill struggle.”
“You’re looking up at the problem. How would you like to look down on it from a position of superiority? I can’t discuss the particulars over the air. If you would, sir, keep all your ships headed inbound, whether they’re in front of or behind the Rebels. That way you won’t lose position, just a little time. And bring M’Coda.”
Chandrajuski was still on the verge of refusing. From everything he knew, he was, indeed, wasting time.
Seeton stepped into the pick-up. “Do it, sir. I beg you.”
Gamordians might move slowly most of the time, but they could make decisions quickly when it mattered. “We’re on our way.”
Trexler’s next call was to Sam Taylor.
Sam’s hair was in disarray, but otherwise he appeared non-plussed. “Hi, Ray. Are you ready to get back to work?”
“I need you here for a conference. It’s one of those things that is regrettable but will, in the end, have paybacks. You’ll like what you’re about to hear. You’ll shortly receive orders from Chandrajuski to pull back. Put a hustle on it, Sam.”
“Aye, aye, sir.”
Trexler reached a shaking hand to a chair and sat down. With his eyes closed, he said to Seeton, “I think I need a crutch.”
“Sorry, Ray. You’re going out of here on a stretcher. It’s already on the way, and sick bay is standing by.”
Just laying down and getting the weight off his foot was a tremendous relief to Trexler. He was sound asleep when he reached sick bay.
Seeton gave instructions to the medical staff. “He needs to be awake and alert in two hours. Whatever painkillers you use, he’ll need his full wits about him by then.”
A doctor was called and briefed. “We have a number of serious injuries here,” she said. “He’ll have to wait.”
“He’s not waiting. That’s an order, Doctor.”
Trexler went into an analyzer, and the doctor studied the results. “We have restoration tanks for injuries to the extremities, but I can’t leave him in there long without repairing the toes first. If I do, they’ll heal poorly. I’ll put him in for now, and I’ll get back to him later tonight, or maybe tomorrow. We have soldiers dying here, Admiral.”
“He needs to get back to the operations center.”
“He’s not going anywhere. If he does, he’ll lose some toes.”
“I’ll personally volunteer his toes to the war effort.”
A groggy voice sounded from the next bed. Colonel Waverly said, “I’ll volunteer the toes, too.”
“Is there no other way, sir?”
Seeton considered. “Actually, there might be another short-term solution. Can you clear an area for me to hold a meeting here?”
“We’re a little crowded right now.”
“That’s okay. We won’t need much room. You get started on him, and I’ll see to a work detail.”
An eyebrow ticked up on the doctor’s face, and she didn’t look happy. “Go away, sir. You can come back in two hours. He’ll be waiting for you.”
Seeton disappeared, and the doctor worked on the foot for a few minutes, then wrapped it up. While she worked, she had the Chief of the Boat summoned. Trexler’s lower body was going into a tank when the Chief arrived.
“I need a portable restoration tank that will hold a foot. Can you provide one?”
“How portable? They’re pretty big.”
“He’s going into the operations center with it.”
“It’s pretty crowded in there. Let me give it some thought.”
“I’ve been given two hours.”
“That will be a little tight. I’ll see what I can do.”
When Trexler woke up two hours later, his lower body was encased in a tank. He looked around and realized he was in the main bay of sick bay. Lots of beds held wounded soldiers. Waverly was beside him, his head encased in bandages. Walters was on the other side of Waverly, covered by a sheet. He was up on one arm, watching Trexler.
“Welcome back, sir. How do you feel?”
“Pretty good, actually. How about you?”
“I haven’t been looked at yet. Stevens is in the operating room right now. The doctor asked me to tell you they put a nerve block on your lower body. Nothing down there will work, so don’t try getting out of that thing.”
“I have work to do.”
“Admiral Seeton told them you’d hold the meeting right here.”
Waverly spoke without opening his eyes. “Hello, Ray.”
“Hey, how you doing?”
“Just a concussion, nothing serious. I’ll be up and around in a few days.”
Seeton came into the room, and beds and medical equipment started getting shifted around.
“Harry, I need to get out of here,” Trexler called.
“All in good time, my friend. They’re making you a portable restoration tank, but you’ll have to give them a few hours to work on your foot before they let you out. We’ll hold the meeting here. Admiral Taylor is aboard. He’s in the ops center. Chandrajuski and M’Coda will be here in twenty minutes.”
“We all need to be in the operations center.”
Seeton stopped what he was doing and stared at Trexler. “You know, Ray, I watched an amazing thing happen today. You have the whole battle mapped out in your head, and you’ve never once looked at a display.”
“I’m just painting with a wide brush at the moment, my friend. The display is needed for the next step, then we’ll get into the net to fine tune things.”
“That’s just my point. I’m reasonably certain that everyone else’s eyes have rarely left the displays. They’re seeing details while you’re seeing the whole picture. Might it be a technique Chandrajuski and M’Coda would benefit from?”
“Hmm. It’s not the way we trained to manage a battle like this.”
“You’re completely focused, Ray. What more could a commander ask for? Let’s leave the displays out of it for now. You’re stuck in that tank, and I want everyone in a room that’s completely devoid of displays for this meeting. We’ll see what develops. We can always adjourn to the displays later.”
“Well… okay, but I’m certain we’ll end up back at the operations center.”
“They will, but you’re not needed there. By then, it will just be a matter of grinding out work assignments. They can do that. In fact, I suspect they’ll all stay here for a while, and I’m making arrangements. Chandrajuski is not going to give up three more hours before working on ship dispositions. With all of you here, it’s putting all our eggs in one basket, so to speak, but look at the synergy we could develop.”
“There aren’t enough displays and net portals, and there aren’t enough tight beam transmitters in operations.”
“The Chief is working on it. It’s a serious limitation, but we can use the displays and net portals on the bridge in addition to the ones in the operations center. This ship is not going into action, so the bridge won’t need them for fighting.”
While they talked, two chairs were brought in and partitions went up around a fairly large area. Gamordians took up a lot of space. Seeton disappeared, and Trexler reviewed the strategic situation in his head. It seemed fairly straight forward to him, but he was concerned about the Rebel reinforcements. He really wanted to force them in, but he wanted to find a way to do it on his own terms, not theirs.
Chandrajuski came into the partitioned-off area. M’Coda was right behind him, and the moment he stopped, his upper hands went to work on his whiskers. Sam Taylor settled into a chair with a grim expression on his face. Seeton sat beside him.
“Is Steve Brinson coming?” Trexler asked Seeton.
“No. We might need some detailed information from the ops center. He’s our eyes.”
Chandrajuski wasted no time. “What’s this all about, Ray?”
“Let’s see if I can summarize for you. We have 160 squadrons, and they have 500 or so. Am I right?”
“The numbers have stabilized, and you’re very close.”
“The first problem is to identify which ships are carrying Chessori, right?”