Led by Sally Danforth, the construction superintendent, Sandy Pike received his first look inside his new ship. With her commissioning date approaching, the PAS Audacious was the first superdreadnought built by the Planetary Alliance since the Percival was completed eighteen years earlier. When he went to the yard, he only hoped to be able to look at her through a viewscreen, but now Danforth was willing to give him a guided tour.

“I’m not interrupting you from anything?” Sandy asked.

“Things are running slightly ahead of schedule,” she commented. “That’s a minor miracle of its own. This close to completion, ‘management by walking around’ is pretty much all I can do,” she replied. “It’s only three weeks until she starts trials. I need to get you a helmet before we can board, though. Wait here a minute.”

Sandy stood, looking at the viewscreen, drinking in the sight. Audacious was huge: 853 meters long. At her widest points, her beam was 192 meters and her height was 160 meters. She would have a crew of 557 and would carry a full company of Alliance marines, including a heavy weapons platoon.

Despite the ship’s vast bulk, her profile was sleek. Clad in a ceramic-alloy laminate, she would appear a gleaming light beige color if seen in a normal light spectrum. Here in the shipyard, only portions of the hull were lit externally. The viewscreen compensated for that, displaying the entire ship but in a uniform gray color. She mounted twelve 255mm photon cannons. There were three double mount turrets on the dorsal and ventral spines of the ship.

Powering all this were six fusion reactors in three pairs at the stern of the ship. The reactors powered the drives, the artillery, the defensive plasma shielding, and all other ship functions. Since the last of the class was built eighteen years before, some advances were made in technology and incorporated into the new design. The Audacious was more powerful than its two predecessors and more durable.

Danforth returned with a yellow helmet and waited for Sandy to put it on. The inside of the helmet adjusted itself automatically to fit his head. She led him through the umbilical gangway into the ship.

“Where would you like to start?” she asked.

“At the stern, then work our way forward,” he requested.

Danforth led him to a set of doors. She pressed a button and the doors opened to a small cubicle. “We call this the tube,” she said. “Not a very original name, I know. It’s a feature that Mayfield and Percival don’t have. This compartment can travel through a network of passages forward and aft, and also up and down between the six decks of the ship, so it’s an elevator that can also move sideways. Given that Audacious is nearly a kilometer long, having the ‘tube’ has been incredibly useful.”

She pressed buttons to direct them to the proper destination. “It also responds to voice commands,” she explained. “Handy when your hands are full.”

Seconds later the doors opened. Danforth led him down a companionway to the engineering center. All the stations were manned since the six reactors were running. There were two officers and six enlisted men on duty. An officer wearing the stripes of a commander was bent over and engaged in conversation with one of the enlisted, pointing out a reading on her screen.

One of the other enlisted personnel noticed Sandy’s entrance. “Officer on deck,” he called.

No one stood—that was not the practice on the bridge or in a command center such as this. The commander looked over. She wrapped up what she was saying, then straightened and came to Sandy, offering a salute. Sandy returned it.

“Commander Nowinski?” Sandy asked.

She nodded.

“Sandy Pike,” he said, offering his hand to shake.

“Captain,” she said, taking his hand. She nodded at Danforth as well, saying, “Sally.”

“Welcome to engineering, captain,” she continued with a smile.

She introduced him to everyone in the command center. When she finished, she said, “I wasn’t expecting you for another twelve days.”

“Technically, I’m still on leave,” Sandy admitted. “I couldn’t resist coming to see, though. How have things been?”

“Smooth,” Nowinski answered. “No surprises, no hiccups, no glitches—just the way we all like our reactors to behave.”

“Are you and your people already staying aboard?”

“No. Sally won’t let us,” Nowinski answered.

“Not for another week,” Danforth said.

When they finished with engineering, Danforth resumed the tour of the ship. There was still work going on, mostly things like painting and laying carpet. It was not until they reached the galley that Sandy saw anyone still engaged in installing equipment.

“That’s one reason I won’t let them stay aboard,” Danforth said. “The galley was held up due to the late arrival of a couple of pieces of equipment. The other reason is some of the environmental systems are late. Air is fine but waste recycling is still not complete.”

Sandy gave Danforth a look.

“I could say it’s a shitty reason and that would literally be true, in this case,” she cracked. “Don’t worry, we’ll meet our schedule. It’s just a small snag.”

Danforth then took him to the environmental area. Here were the banks of air scrubbers, the water reclamation and purification systems, and solid material recycling area. Looking at the compost tanks at the rear of the water reclamation area, Sandy asked, “How long can the ship go without cleaning the tanks?”

“Three years,” Danforth answered. “And it’s still the best fertilizer available at any price.”

Danforth was referring to the material collected in the tanks. All human waste generated on the ship went to the water reclamation area. The solid matter was filtered out and sent to the compost tanks. The composted sludge from the tanks was in demand as a crop fertilizer. While in Environmental, Danforth pointed out where the missing equipment for waste disposal and treatment would be installed.

She took him to the enlisted mess next. Sandy stood, taking it in. The room was huge. It was big enough in terms of floor space to hold two of the Alice May. That was when the immensity of Audacious first hit home for him. If he and Danforth had walked back to engineering instead of taking the tube he would already have grasped how big the ship was from the length of the walk.

They continued moving. They went through the crew quarters. Though the space was used economically, it seemed to Sandy to be less cramped than he had seen on the other ships he commanded. From there, they proceeded into one of the two shuttle bays. Two squat Marine Assault Shuttles dominated the center of the area. “The bay doors are large enough you can land a patrol boat in here,” Danforth explained. “There is another shuttle bay on the other side of the ship that is the same size.”

Danforth continued the walk-through of the ship. She showed Sandy his quarters and ready room, as well as the rest of officer country. Because Audacious was a superdreadnought, it could also be an admiral’s flagship. The so-called flag quarters were a duplicate of the captain’s. In Sandy’s experience, on battlecruisers and superdreadnoughts that did not fly an admiral’s flag, these quarters were most often used for storage.

They finished the tour at the bridge. Sandy continued to marvel at the size of the ship. After spending the better part of seven years on Alice May, the scale of a superdreadnought was a shock. Still, as goggle-eyed as the size of the ship made him, his eye did not overlook small details. He noticed the tidiness of the welds, the fit of the various components, and how joints aligned perfectly. All of his previous ships fell short of perfection in those areas. It was something he grew accustomed to during his time in the Alliance Navy. He found nothing sloppy in the way Audacious was put together. He commented on it to Danforth.

She beamed. “There’s nothing you could say that would make a construction supervisor happier,” she said. “Thank you for noticing. I wish I could take the credit, but it is entirely due to the workers. It’s not just Audacious. The other Mayfields and the Resolutes all share the same attention to detail you see here. I’ll guess all ten ships under construction do.”

“Why do you think that is?” Sandy asked. “I mean, my ships before didn’t seem to have been built with the same degree of care.”

“We lost the war,” she responded.

Sandy gave her a blank look.

“Everyone had to live under the HUWs,” she continued. “Didn’t you?”

The Hegemony of United Worlds was commonly known by the acronym, HUW, pronounced by everyone as “who.”

“No. I left the Alliance right after the surrender,” Sandy said. “I was mostly on Providence. I didn’t come to an Alliance planet until after Admiral Ketyungyoenwong re-established some control.”

“Huh,” Danforth grunted. “Well, it wasn’t fun. The HUWs acted as though they were our lords and masters. They looked down on us, bossed us around, treated us like crap. Then, things started to fall apart. Things we all took for granted—power, water, trash collection, being able to buy food—the most basic stuff, failed. Crime soared. There weren’t any police to chase criminals. Things got pretty crazy pretty fast. Then, folks started to rally and pitched in together and tried to get things working again but it was hit-or-miss. Where I lived, we restored control quickly. My husband’s family was in an area that wasn’t so lucky. A bunch of crazy people tried to claim they were setting up a kingdom that they ruled by force. Finally, the admiral chased the HUWs away and the government came out of hiding and started making things happen again. Those of us who lived through that came out on the other side with a different appreciation of things.”

“How does this explain—” Sandy began.

Danforth interrupted. “Before, we all had a different attitude about working on a government project. We were lazy and sloppy because we could get away with it, I guess. You ever hear someone say, ‘Close enough, for government work’?”

Sandy chuckled. “Yeah. I’ve heard that. Might have said it a few times myself.”

“Most folks had a pretty low opinion of our government. It took being under a different one for us to appreciate what we lost. Not that any of us have developed great fondness for politicians, but at least they are ours. They may be bandits and thieves, but they are our bandits and thieves. Does that make sense?”

Sandy nodded.

“With these new ships, there’s a different attitude. We’re aware of how important these ships are. We know they are necessary to safeguard our freedom and to restore the Alliance. We’re aware that we’re the lucky ones. Most of us know someone on one of the Alliance worlds we haven’t recovered. We hear from them about how bad things still are. Our system of government might not be perfect but it beats the crap out of having the HUWs or those other clowns running the show. So, ‘close enough for government work’ doesn’t cut it anymore. Sorry, that was probably more of an answer than you were looking for.”

“Not at all,” Sandy replied. “I was running a freight business, based on Providence. I heard about the troubles but didn’t live through them. It was all at a distance. Hearing this from you reinforces my decision to return to the navy and reminds me why it’s so damned important.”

Danforth looked at Sandy with her head cocked. “I just figured out who you are. You’re that guy.”

“That guy?” Sandy asked.

Danforth seemed mildly embarrassed. “The guy who won the medals and stuff—in the war,” she said.

“Yeah. I guess,” Sandy admitted. Now it was his turn to be embarrassed.

“And you’re just coming back to the navy now?” she asked. “What took so long?”

Sandy’s embarrassment grew. He struggled to find the right words. “You know how you said you didn’t think too highly of the government before? They kind of screwed me over a bunch the last year and a half before the surrender.”

“Huh. Must have been real bad to keep you away so long,” Danforth scoffed. “Still, you’re here now and I think we can use all the guys like you we can get.”

“Guys like me?” Sandy queried.

“Yeah. Heroes,” Danforth replied.

Sandy’s face turned red at her off-hand comment. “Sally, it was pretty bad, but after hearing what you had to say, I probably should have come back sooner. Like you said, though, I’m here now. I’ll just have to do the best I can to help straighten things out.”

“Hell, sir… I didn’t mean to get personal and all,” Danforth stated. “I’m glad you’re back. And I’m glad Audacious will be under your command. Just make sure you take her out and do great things with her.”

“I promise I will, Sally,” Sandy affirmed.

Admiral Ketyungyoenwong began her conference with Pat Horton and Bob Giersch by informing them that Sandy Pike, though still on leave, was currently touring PAS Audacious. Both of them smiled. They would have done the same.

“I hope you have read the briefing ONI prepared on the recent meeting of the former Hegemony group captains. They all call themselves admirals now, by the way. I want your best ideas on how we prevent them from joining forces,” Ketyungyoenwong said, “or split them up quickly if they do unite.”

“That’s easy,” Horton replied. “Threaten all three of them, separately but simultaneously.”

“What do you mean?” the admiral asked.

“Mount attacks against all three,” Horton explained, “once they join their forces. I’m not talking about big fleet actions—think small, against merchant shipping. Use frigates to penetrate their space and start wreaking havoc on commercial shipping. Each of them will pull their ships out of the joint force to protect their own areas.”

“Pat’s right,” Giersch agreed. “None of them will want their military being used to protect another’s territory, especially if their own area is under attack. They’ll pull their ships back home immediately. Plus, Noyes and Mannbarschwein have already been at each other’s throats. I doubt they trust one another. Feng is the one driving the consolidation. Before the Hegemony fell apart, he was junior to both of them. I doubt they would allow him to run the show.”

“How would you go about this, Pat?” Ketyungyoenwong asked.

“I’d start by finding an uninhabited system that is within three or four jumps of each of the breakaways. Ideally, it would be a system we could access without traveling through their space, even if it took four or five months to reach. I’d establish a forward base there, and send in six to ten frigates. Our first attacks would be somewhat blind—hit or miss—but have the frigates leave sensor drones in every system they enter that’s on a regular shipping lane. Later attacks can then be more precise.”

“One problem, though,” Giersch cautioned. “We need to declare war before our first attacks.”

“Can’t we just say this is a continuation of the previous war?” Horton asked.

“No,” Ketyungyoenwong answered. “That war ended when we surrendered. Bob’s right. Declaring war won’t be a problem, though.”

“Why not?” Horton asked.

“Al Dorsey is itching for a fight,” Ketyungyoenwong chuckled. “He will have the council present a demand to the breakaways that they allow the former Alliance planets to conduct referenda on self-determination. The three admirals will refuse, of course. Then we have justification for declaring war, with solid moral footing. Who would you put in charge of an operation like this?”

“Ideally, Sandy Pike,” Giersch said.

“I have other plans for Pike,” Ketyungyoenwong stated.

“How about Monty Swift, then?” Giersch suggested.

“The name rings a bell. Tell me more,” Horton asked.

“Swift and Pike are friends—good friends,” Giersch explained. “They’re pretty similar from what I’ve seen. Working with Swift the last few years, he’s come up with more good ideas than all the rest of my COs put together. The only reason you haven’t heard about Swift is that he was stuck in Red Fleet while Pike was in Blue. Pike got the opportunities to be a hero, while Swift had to keep his head down and his mouth shut under Admiral Treffitte. We’re lucky he didn’t leave the service, like so many did.”

“Hmmm,” Ketyungyoenwong murmured. “You might be right. I’ll need to think about it a little more, but I like your ideas. Now, about the budget projections you turned in…”

When the meeting closed, Admiral Ketyungyoenwong summoned her flag lieutenant and gave him orders to conduct an astrographic survey to find an uninhabited system like the one Pat Horton described. She also asked for the current disposition of all the frigates in the Alliance navy, and for Captain Swift’s current location.

Her lieutenant had the information in her hands within hours. There were two uninhabited and unclaimed systems that fulfilled the criteria Horton listed: within three to five jumps of systems claimed by the breakaway governments, and accessible without traversing any hostile space. One could be reached after a trip of ninety-four days, the other required much longer.

Ketyungyoenwong accessed her console and contacted Al Dorsey, the head of the Governing Council. “Al,” she said, “I have something I want to run by you. What’s your schedule look like for the next few days?”

“I’m booked pretty solid for the rest of the week, Letty,” he responded. “Do you need an answer before then?”

“I don’t need an answer this week,” she replied, “but can’t wait much longer than that. And it would be best if you came here. I will have some things to show you but need to use my holographic projector for them to really make sense.”

Dorsey consulted his schedule. “Have dinner brought in Monday night,” he said. “I’ll be there around seven.”

“Thank you, Al. Monday at seven it is. I think you’ll enjoy it,” she said as she ended the call.

After finishing his tour of Audacious, Sandy returned to his quarters. The excitement of seeing his new ship faded before he even left the hull. Sally Danforth’s comments about what took him so long to return to the navy ate at him.

Admiral Ketyungyoenwong said she understood why he did not come back right away. Al Dorsey said he understood. Monty understood. Why did a construction supervisor’s off-hand comment sting so much and go so deep? Had he been selfish? Did he act like a spoiled child? He sat at the desk in the small room in the BOQ, casting his mind back.

He thought about Ilex, where they gave him command of PAS Chapman. The previous commander, a politically connected officer, had abused his office and much of his crew. Sandy, with Portia Thompson’s help, led the crew as they regained their pride and competence, only to be thrust into what almost turned out to be a suicide mission that cost most of them their lives—a mission ordered by ignorant politicians who would not admit a mistake.

He remembered being shot by an assassin, who was hoping to collect on a contract for Sandy’s life—a contract issued by another politically connected officer whose incompetence and mental instability Sandy exposed. ONI lied to Sandy about the incident and Sandy later learned Leezy, his girlfriend, might have been in danger.

He recalled his posting to Red Fleet, where his commanding officer harassed and belittled him. Sandy’s suggestions regarding deployment of their forces were ignored. An attack by the HUWs proved Sandy was right. Not that it did Sandy any good. His ship was destroyed and he ended up in an escape pod for over a week. He still shivered, remembering how cold he was when they pulled him from the pod and revived him.

The last straw was when politicians canceled his promotion and his next command, sticking him in a form of limbo—assigning him a command in logistics. From his desk in logistics, he watched as the politicians lost the war. It was as predictable as it was avoidable.

There was justification for his reluctance to return to the navy. After hearing Sally Danforth’s point of view, Sandy wasn’t sure it was enough. Her brief description of how life changed after the surrender for everyday people was sobering. Her comment to him about needing all the heroes they could get embarrassed him.

Sandy never liked to think of himself as a hero. Danforth’s remark taught him that whether he felt he was deserving of the label, his opinion didn’t matter. Danforth casually let him know he was considered a hero and had obligations as a result. He couldn’t change the past but he vowed he would influence the future.

Sandy spent the remainder of his leave immersed in study of his new ship and crew. He reviewed the files of his officers and had a couple of calls with his new executive officer, Commander Bronwen Gupta, and Audacious’ Chief of Boat, Master Chief Petty Officer Troy McCutcheon. McCutcheon was Sandy’s COB on his last Alliance command, PAS Driscoll.

Sandy knew how good McCutcheon was. Admiral Ketyungyoenwong vouched for Gupta. From what Sandy learned from Gupta’s files and what he observed during the two calls so far, Gupta was as good as advertised. Sandy did not know the other officers and non-coms but Gupta and McCutcheon did.

Gupta and McCutcheon already developed the crew assignments, watch rosters and a training schedule. Gupta’s training program was similar to one Sandy first saw implemented by Olivia Park, now a captain in command of a battlecruiser, PAS Redemption. Park’s new XO was Mike Xie, who had been part of the crew of the Alice May. Gupta served under Park earlier and freely admitted stealing many of Park’s ideas for training.

“Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Al,” Letty Ketyungyoenwong said, after they pushed away the last of their dinner.

“You said I’d enjoy it, Letty,” he responded. “I’ve been looking forward to it.”

“You know from the last briefing we held that the breakaways are planning on joining forces. If they do this successfully, it will make our restoration of the Alliance difficult, if not impossible,” she began.

“I was hoping you’d have something to say about this,” Dorsey replied.

Letty activated the holographic projector that highlighted the planetary systems controlled by the breakaway governments in different shades of blue. Alliance systems were green, the remaining Hegemony systems were orange and the systems of the Free Republics and non-aligned governments were red. She explained the different color coding to Dorsey, then began zooming the display in. The focus was now on the breakaway governments.

“Pat Horton came up with the idea,” Letty said. “We need to fracture their recent partnership. The way to do that is by attacking all three simultaneously—but not with capital ships. Instead, we go after commercial traffic using our frigates. To be most effective, we plan to establish a forward operating base here, in system MU 646.”

She zoomed the display in, centered on that system. “System MU 646 is no more than five jumps away from the majority of the commercial traffic routes in all three of the breakaways. Our frigates can reach MU 646 without coming near any of the breakaways and can use a variety of routes to reach each breakaway from there. It’s a nearly perfect location.”

“What makes it less than perfect?” Dorsey asked.

“It will take three months to position our forces there, assuming we had them all gathered in Valkyrie and ready to leave,” she said. “That’s the first thing. The second thing is that we don’t have our forces prepared to be positioned. I’ll need to pull them from where they are now. I don’t dare do that all at once, or someone could puzzle out what we’re doing. The third thing is, if it were perfect, I’d already have an operating base built and in the system. That won’t happen, by the way. I’m making a joke.”

“So, the plan is to put a bunch of our frigates there,” Dorsey said, “and have them raid commercial shipping traffic? You think that will pull the breakaways apart?”

“I do,” Letty confirmed. “Noyes and Mannbarschwein were already trying to knock each other out before this. Feng, who was the one who urged them to unite, was junior to both of them when they were all Hegemony. None of their systems enjoy healthy economies. The former Hegemony planets are in the best condition but trade has dropped to a small fraction of previous levels. The Hegemony won’t do business with them, nor can they work with the other breakaways. Only some merchants in the Free Republics and the non-aligned systems are willing to take on the risk, and only then for exorbitant profits. When we start hitting the remaining commercial shipping, no one will be willing to do business in those systems. The breakaways will pull their navies back home immediately—at least Noyes and Mannbarschwein will—to protect the little bit of trade that remains. Without it, they are doomed. Unity will fly out the window. They’re already short on ships. Needing to provide escorts for merchant shipping will stretch them further. It will guarantee they are ripe for the plucking when we’re ready to attack in six months.”

“Hell, sounds like a winner, Letty,” Dorsey said.

“It’s even better,” she continued. “Right now, there are five of the former Alliance planets who are isolated—not part of the systems claimed by the breakaways but unable to reach the rest of the Alliance. Once we force the breakaways to pull their forces back, we can reopen shipping lanes.”

“That’s a nice thing,” Dorsey commented, “but not very dramatic. They have considered themselves part of the Alliance since the HUWs pulled out and their speakers take part in the governing council, over kewpie links.”

“Yes, but we have not been able to trade with the rest of us and their economies are in the toilet, according to ONI,” Ketyungyoenwong said. “How much tax revenue have they contributed to the Alliance recently?”

Dorsey shrugged, acknowledging the admiral’s point. “True. As far as the ones still under control by the breakaways, is there anything you need from me?”

“Yes. We need the Alliance to declare war on all three before we attack,” Letty stated.

“Damn,” Dorsey spat. “You set me up real good, Letty. Had me thinking this was going to be easy. You know only the full council can declare war?”

“I do, Al,” Letty replied. “I also know you, and they, have the same intel from AIS that I do.”

“Which part?” he asked.

“The part that shows that Gross Domestic Product on the former Alliance planets in the breakaways is, at most, half what it was before the surrender. For most, it’s much worse. Our people are suffering, Al.”

“You think I don’t know about that?” Dorsey snarled angrily.

“You know it as well as anyone,” Letty said calmly. “What I’d like is for you to convince the council to allow you to demand that the breakaways allow the former Alliance planets conduct referenda on self-determination. Your leverage is the economic suffering we know is taking place. That gives the Alliance the moral high ground. The breakaways will refuse. The council needs to respond to the refusal by declaring war.”

“Damn, Letty,” Dorsey exclaimed, “when did you learn politics?”

“Watching you, the last couple of years, Al,” she replied, with an expression so cool butter wouldn’t melt in her mouth.

“What if they don’t want to go along?” Dorsey asked.

“I think you can pull it off,” Letty said. “But if there are one or two on the council you can’t convince, we’ve reached ‘cards on the table’ time. I’m prepared to give those one or two holdouts a full briefing on what we are planning. I’d prefer not to go to the full council with all of it. Someone would talk and make our mission a lot harder.”

A week later, Sandy’s leave was officially over, even though he spent most of the last two weeks already working. He had a meeting with Admiral Ketyungyoenwong about to begin. As usual, he arrived five minutes early for the meeting scheduled for 08:00. The yeoman greeted him and at precisely 08:00, the door to the admiral’s office opened.

Ketyungyoenwong ushered Sandy in and gestured to an armchair away from her desk. She had a paper print-out she handed him. Glancing down, Sandy saw it was the organizational chart for Battle Group Omega, with ship names and commanding officers now listed. Two names jumped off the page at him: Captain Prudence Featherstone on PAS Intrepid, a superdreadnought, and Captain Charlene McDaniel on PAS Tenacious, one of the Resolute-class battlecruisers, both due to be completed at the same time as Audacious.

Seeing that Sandy noticed the two names, Ketyungyoenwong said, “I took your comment into account, Sandy, about having someone with whom you could bounce ideas back and forth. I can’t give you Monty but thought Pru and Charlie could help you out in that way.”

“They’ll do quite nicely,” Sandy said. Both Featherstone and McDaniel had served as Sandy’s executive officers at one time. He had great confidence in each of them and was already looking forward to working with them again.

“For the next six months, you’re going to have an unusual time of it,” the admiral said. “By the end of this week, your ship and the Intrepid will be ready to begin trials, as will the first three Resolutes. As you know, there are two more Mayfields and three more Resolutes nearing completion a few months later—the balance of the capital ships for Omega. Their crews have already been selected. We will be rotating crews on a month-on, month-off basis until the other ships are ready. During the month-off periods, officers, non-coms and other key personnel will continue training on simulators. You will even be able to conduct simulated exercises with all the crews as though they were on their own ships. Then, after a brief shakedown period, we hope to begin offensive operations in no more than seven months.”

“Will I rotate with my crew?” Sandy asked.

“No,” Ketyungyoenwong answered. “You are the commodore of the Battle Group—an admiral in every respect but without the rank and title. You will be my proxy. When you move aboard Audacious, move into the flag quarters. You will stay aboard through the crew rotations. I want you to get a feel for every crew in the battle group. When Commander Gupta is aboard, let her run the ship.”

“This seems … unusual,” Sandy commented.

“This is no different from changes I intend to implement in the other battle groups once the navy is restored to its former levels,” the admiral responded dryly. “Unfortunately, due to the losses in the war, each fleet now consists of only one battle group, with a few extra ships. It works out to four superdreadnoughts and six battlecruisers in each, just like in Omega. I think that will be the standard deployment for a battle group in the future, if I have my way. Anyway, with only two battle groups, I don’t need commodores when I have admirals. With Omega, I have a need for someone else. Much as we all like you, Sandy, we’re not ready to promote you to admiral yet.”

Sandy nodded in understanding. The idea made a lot of sense. Running a ship and managing a battle group required two different skill sets. Sandy had been wondering how he would do both without short-changing one part of the job.

“Would it make sense to provide Commander Gupta with the same rank as the others?” Sandy asked. “She will be acting as the commanding officer of the ship, after all.”

Letty paused, a thoughtful look on her face. “That makes sense,” she admitted. “I’ll need to get it blessed because she’s a year short on time-in-rank but I’m embarrassed I did not think of that myself. Damnit, I should have invited Gupta to this meeting, too.”

Sandy shrugged in response.

“In a few minutes,” Ketyungyoenwong continued, “I’ll be bringing the other captains of your battle group in for an intensive briefing from ONI on the current status of the breakaway governments and one from me on how we plan to address them. I expect that to take most of the rest of the day. For the balance of the week, you’ll be spending most of your time with the other captains. At the end of the week, you’ll board Audacious and head out. My yeoman has already prepared your schedule.”

Admiral Ketyungyoenwong rose from her chair and crossed to the seat at the head of the conference table in her office. When she sat, she activated the console in front of her and pressed a button. A moment later, her yeoman opened the door.

Monty Swift, Pru Featherstone, Charlie McDaniel and two other captains came in first. Sandy recognized the two other captains, having seen them before, but didn’t remember their names. Sandy was surprised to see Monty, since the admiral just told him he wouldn’t have Monty in the Battle Group. Monty looked at him with a lopsided grin.

Ketyungyoenwong introduced the two captains to Sandy: Mark Kessler and William Bone. Sandy shook their hands, then shook hands with Monty. He raised a questioning eyebrow, which Monty saw but ignored. Pru and Charlie both hugged Sandy. He had not seen Pru in over a decade and the last time he’d seen Charlie was eight years earlier when they were both half-frozen after spending nine days in an escape pod following the disastrous Battle of Excelsus.

The admiral cut their happy reunion off and instructed them to sit. She used her console and five other captains appeared in holographic projections at different seats around the conference table, as well as three people dressed in civilian clothing. Sandy recognized all five—two he knew from the academy and he served with the other three. Steve Turbyfill and Diane Graves had been a year ahead and a year behind him at the academy, respectively. Melissa Klipp, Lyn Joslyn and Art Chang were all posted to the same ship as Sandy at different points in his career. The org chart Ketyungyoenwong gave him earlier showed that Chang and Graves would command the superdreadnoughts still being completed, while the others would command the battlecruisers finishing their construction. Sandy exchanged friendly greetings with all of them. Ketyungyoenwong introduced the three civilians, members of the Office of Naval Intelligence, to the group. Everyone else knew one another.

“Welcome to the first official meeting of Battle Group Omega,” Ketyungyoenwong stated, “plus our guests, Captain Swift and ONI.