Shackleton - Operation Have Sea

[Shulsky]

Guerrero Asteroid Cloud, Vespucci System
22 MAR 835 AS

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There was gravity, just enough to keep the feet on deck and a body satisfied without the usual medical concerns, but the bridge was still full of heavy-suited bodies working away at their various consoles. Booth sighed inwardly, though he knew it was a far cry better than the alternative. The alternative was that there was no alternative, because really the whole ship was contaminated and stars only knew how structurally sound the bridge was. Booth was cautious enough to test that, same with his caution for most things with the ship.

He'd sent away Keen with the Powhatan. It made no sense dragging along a transport, not like that through Rheinlander space that may or may not go poorly. The Zoner wasn't sure about having such a ship in close proximity if engineering had problems in the trade lane, nevermind something or another elsewhere. He paused. Hadn't talked to her in a while, not since the whole operation started. Put her off onto Cleveland when she'd raised up a storm about going to Vespucci, her and the kids. Booth swallowed. She hadn't been happy with it, or him, old memories that had never truly healed and old grudges that'd never be sated. He should send a message. Later. He’d send it later. Booth pushed the idea away.

“Bridge, Engineering, pump ten seized. Stand by.”

“Bridge copies,” answered the OOD, clasping her arms behind her back and breathing out. They’d been having minor engineering problems all day and a few the night before, though admittedly those two things had blended together into what had been a very, very annoying period for the engineering crews. Booth had contemplating requesting more personnel from Bristol Bay, though admittedly that would have taken time and set the schedule further to the right. He didn’t need that, not when it might make the Rheinlanders rethink their whole deal.

“So. Our escort?”

He turned to the JOOD, nodding. “Should be already en-route out of Tijuana. Another Rheinlander in command, Helheim. Frankfurter, I think.” He’d read the file some days prior after being informed by Bristol Bay that’s who they were sending over. A former Kruger man, one of the big Rheinland companies that’d seemed to mess up really most of…everything, looking at it from a point of view like Booth’s. Older man, though. He looked forward to meeting the man personally later on, in Bering.

“Ah, there’s the man now, I think. Bristol IFF on long-range.” A short pause as the crewman read the console again. “‘Pocket The Rocket’. What a guy. He’s closing range with us, sir.”

Breathing out and shaking his head just a moment - Helheim did seem to have a sense of humor - Booth reached up for the bridge-to-bridge line. Clicking the connector wire out of its socket, leaving the phone set, he plugged it into his wrist. Collecting his thoughts, the Zoner clicked the circuit on.

“This is Bristol warship Endeavor to escort. Glad you've arrived. We're currently completing final engine checks and go-ahead from Rheinwehr authorities on escort.”

“Copy that.”

He waited a few moments, staring at the viewscreen as they passed on by. A civilian gunship with weapons ready, the ship was near-exactly what Booth had initially requested. He’d needed something able to tow them, should it ever come to that. Well, at least that was good. Finally, something broke the silence and minor little reports here, there. “Bridge, Engineering, we’ve isolated pump ten. Green on our end.”

The JOOD acknowledged it, nodding to himself. Looking up from his bulky suit at Booth, his voice crackled over the local circuit. “Sir, we’re good to go.”

“Very well.” Booth clicked on the channel again.

“Final checks complete, my board is green. We'll be moving on through Omega-55 and Omega-7 and then through Rheinland. Final destination Bristol Bay.”

“Sounds good. Let's hope we will not have too many interference.”

“Affirm. Starting up cruise engines.”

He paused, thinking over what exactly Bristol Bay might have told the escort. It’d be good to remind them about the exact terms of the whole arrangement with the Rheinlanders, especially if things ever went poorly.

“Be advised, my primary armaments are currently disarmed for Rheinland passage.”

The gunship acknowledged over the secondary channels and the two ships began to make their way through the Guerrero. He could feel the deckplates shaking just a bit as they came under thrust, a rattle here, a steady hum there. Orange swirls moved about them, as well as the larger tan rocks of the field. They weren’t to pass anywhere near the wrecks that littered the Guerrero from the Liberty Navy offensive, but Booth knew that somewhere in the field there was that station, that battleship, both lost as enormous wrecks. He had no doubts that such had already been stripped clean of anything worthwhile by the Xenos, Gaians, and a dozen other groups who had moved through the system, but still it made him somewhat a little sad. The Zoner could still remember when the station and ship lived.

They began to near the Omega-55 Jump Hole, the comms circuit crackling to life with the escort gunship.

“I'll check the other side.”

“Clear.”

The movement through Omega-55 was quiet, calm, Conn and Helm calling out movement orders and having those logged. Lava-scorched rocks flew past the ship, clattering against the navigational shields, and in the distance Booth could see that Junker base as they passed on by. They wouldn’t bother a cruiser and gunship, as far as he knew, though doubtless the Junkers could both do some underhanded nonsense to even the score as well as eventually notice that the cruiser wasn’t quite operating at full capabilities. If they were quick, the locals wouldn’t get a chance to notice. Booth didn’t feel like that needed to be said to Helheim. He’d understand. Luckily enough, the system wasn’t all that large and they soon closed with the jump hole into Omega-7.

“Again I'll check the jump hole.”

“Clear, you can proceed.”

The acknowledge light soon followed on the secondary circuit. Some issue on the other end? Booth wasn’t sure if the gas clouds had already begun to have an effect on such things, but it was too late to pull out now, and they entered into that jump hole. The ship shook and groaned under the kaleidoscope of colors, the stars circling past in rivers of light. Soon enough, they exited to find the Pocket The Rocket there as well, and soon enough after followed the gunship through the orange Walker.

“Gas pocket ahead.”

They watched as the isolated bits of explosive gas came into view, a detonation in the distance splashing against the gunship’s shields while smaller pockets began to shudder the cruiser. Reflexively, Booth grasped one of the nearby consoles, breathing out through his nose. Comms signalled an acknowledge to the Pocket The Rocket, continuing on to monitor long-range signals for any interceptions. They weren’t to stay long in the Omegas, but it was still a concern that something - Hessians, Corsairs, independent pirates - might somehow notice the transit. Thinking it over for a moment on what exactly might cause difficulties, he clicked on the internal circuit.

“Engineering, Bridge, status?”

“Multiple disruptions across 3-A, we’re isolating the problem now.”

“Keep me posted.” He clicked on the external circuit.

“I copy. Engineering reports energy disruptions on minor subsystems.”

They kept on moving through the system, gas clouds slowly dying away as the thick-faced screens flickered here, there. The monitors’ green glow had long been drown out by the orange hues of the Walker, the flashes of detonations gone from each opaque visor on the bridge. He waited. He waited for news from Engineering, from CHENG. 3A…What precisely did that control…it was a number of systems that generally didn’t have much need at this point. Ventilation, for instance. He waited. The circuit crackled on again.

“Where we will meet with RM?”

“We'll proceed on to the Jump Gate and stand by for their go ahead.”

“Noted.”

As they neared the gate, the crude circular shape in the distance emerging with detail, he set about at the communications display. The Rheinlanders had given a few frequencies that could be useful, frequencies to reach out to them for one reason or another, and this seemed as good a reason as any. Of course, such were also not encrypted. He felt as though it was just broadcasting out into the open. An uplink alert for the channel clicked on his heads-up - the Rheinlander Helle Wolke, gunship from what he could guess.

Booth paused, thinking through exactly what he wanted to say. A phrase stuck in his head, something grand. Well, perhaps not so grand. Something about as aspirational as anything else, but really the issue didn’t exist. After all, they didn’t have the usual type of craft for Bristol. He clicked on.

“This is Bristol warship Endeavor. Be advised I intend to halt at Jumpgate into Stuttgart and standby.”

“Affirmative, we'll prepare to meet you.”

Switching to the local bridge-to-bridge channels, he could almost smile.

“Message sent to local Rheinwehr forces.”

The acknowledge light came on in response, and an empty feeling was there in the pit of Booth’s stomach. They were about to step off. It would all turn from just a project into reality. It would turn from the theoreticals purely within Bristol and Shackleton into a project involving, of all things, the Unioners. It felt unreal. The local circuit broke him from the thought.

“Bristol warship…sir, it’s a good phrase considering what we have up right now.”

He chuckled. “Well, JOOD, you just have to be a bit creative.”

“Sir, my car back home has more power than this right now. At least that I can outrun the LPI toll cops.”

“Not what it can do now that matters. Besides, can’t call it anything else.”

“Pfffffttt.”

An engineering alarm rang out on the bridge, tinny and harsh, constant until silenced. The console operator’s helmet tilted up in a little gesture, the local circuit clicking on as he gave his report to the OOD. Engineering reports, Booth could hear, on the reactors. They’d not pushed them hard, not by any measure, but the whole of the issue was that the systems likely had damage they didn’t know about. It wasn’t a good thing. The OOD gave her own report.

“Reactor 2 is having power fluctuations, sir. Engineering is troubleshooting now.”

“How serious?”

A pause as the OOD relayed the question down. “Three percent flux as it stands.”

“Very well. Let them troubleshoot.”

“Aye, sir.”

A pause followed, tense even without the engineering alarm.

“Engineering believes it’s the coolant, clearing reactor vents 3 and 4, rerouting 1 and 2 to supply reactor 2. They intend to cycle out the coolant on reactor 2.”

“Very well.” Booth clicked on the communications circuit.

“Be advised, currently have spikes on reactor 2.”

“Might be the nebula dust?”

“Engineering is shutting down reactor vents 3 and 4, standing by for coolant purge on reactor 2.”

Another pause as they watched on the monitors a few thin streams of blue-green liquid shifting off the aft sections before dissipating with the mere fact of motion. Booth knew that there could be problems here, with the coolant cycle, but they couldn’t do much better than it. There could also be the idea that the coolant wasn’t the problem, but they couldn’t troubleshoot much further while on the move. He watched as the asteroids and such moved on past. Finally, the operator gave a thumbs-up, both hands from their console. There it was.

“Engineering reports coolant replacement successful.”

An acknowledge light came on from the Pocket the Rocket, the ships continuing to cruise to the jump gate. It didn’t take especially long; the sprint across Omega-7 wasn’t a far one, and soon the asteroids of the Furstenfelde cut away into the cleared section around the gate itself. They paused, waiting with the trade lane noticeably disabled. Booth stood still, the thickness of his suit preventing the nominal tapping against the console that would accompany his thoughts. Elbe’s doing, perhaps, or simply the normal times of the Omegas? Likely the latter. They weren’t going to include every single Rheinlander law enforcement base in the House, after all. Finally, the exit point of the gate flashed and two ships emerged, an Oder ID’ed as the Helle.Wolke and a Spectre, ID’ed under a squadron designation.

Pocket the Rocket spoke first, Booth ready to click onto the circuit.

“Greetings.”

“Bristol vessels, Admiral von Richter has told us to expect you.”

“Greet... Guten Tag Citizen.”

“This is Bristol warship Endeavor to Rheinland vessels. Afternoon, gentlemen, glad to see you. Be advised my main munitions have been disarmed. Standing by for instructions.”

“Affirmative, you may have gunners on standby, otherwise we'll take you through. We don't expect much resistance, after all nobody should know this is happening.”

“Copy all, Helle Wolke.”

“We'll jump through first, Ulm has already been informed of our arrangement.”

“Endeavor copies.”

“Affirmative, jump, mark.”

With that, they moved through the gate and on past Ulm. The Helle Wolke, rather unnecessarily, informed them that they would be using the lanes and to not get too close to the Westfalen. Well, yes, Booth thought. Of course they wouldn’t get too close and use the trade lanes. Some part of him suspected that the gunship hadn’t been fully informed of the agreement and conditions that had been made before, just being told to escort them on through.

The trade lanes weren’t as bad as the cruise engines, Booth knew, the ship shaking far less, the reactor outputs far less, but he could still feel the force of the motion struggling against the hull and frame to turn the ship into debris. The Zoner swallowed at the idea and image, though doubtless it would turn a relatively calm voyage into a very public and impressive event of ‘Several large panels slingshot into station, dozens dead at least’. He pushed the image away. It wouldn’t be good to do that.

They moved past Freiburg and Breisgau, up to see Stuttgart loom into view and the Westfalen engaging with her guns and escorts a few LWB fighters on what Booth could only guess was a rush to damage Neckar’s cargo bays. Of course, the escorts had already driven them away from that target, pushing them into a dogfight as Westfalen launched a few more. Their own escorting Disir moved in to join the fray, the Helle Wolk pausing a few hundred meters off the trade lane.

“All engines halt!”

“All engines halt, aye, zero’ing my speed.”

“Very well.”

“Speed zeroed.”

They waited for the gunfire to die down and for the last LWB to burst into self-fueling flames and debris, tractor beams picking through to find survivors and such. As the escort returned, the comms circuit came to life.

“Hostiles gone.”

“Westfalen has cleared us to proceed, adjusting heading now.”

Booth picked through his thoughts, figuring that it would do to mention the other portion of the annoying arrangement with the Rheinland Government: the halt at Alster Shipyard. While he toyed at the idea of simply not telling the escort and, if they felt the grand need to skip that halt take advantage of it, it would likely not do too well. They needed the good graces of the Rheinlanders, if anything else because it smoothed things over in the future, and some bureaucrat or high-ranking Admiral would find such a discrepancy indicative of a need to not trust Bristol in those future endeavors. That wouldn’t do at all. As the ships moved through the trade lane, Booth started.

“Be advised that due to the escort arrangement we will have to halt at Alster.”

“Alright, so good so far, no security stops in New Berlin, we'll head straight for Hamburg.”

“Noted.”

On through the jump gate to New Berlin as well, the ship shaking a good bit more than before. One gloved hand grasped at the console before him, Booth swallowing as his eyes glanced above and around him. They exited though, just as before, and still with no hull seams opening up along the critical decks. That was good enough for him. The comms signal popped on again.

“Alright, we're clear, proceeding to Bonn.”

“So far the worst issue is traffic.”

“Affirm.”

As they cruised through the trade lane, Booth couldn’t help but chuckle. Worst issue was traffic…that was the truth. Too many transports moving around for something that was as directed and somewhat time-sensitive as moving a cruiser through House space. Of course, moving through Rheinland along the trade lanes and jump gates was necessary. The only other option was slow-boating through to jump holes, and Booth wasn’t sure if the engines would last so long. That wasn’t even mentioning the strain the jump holes have given them compared to the gates. It wasn’t an option at all, but still it was the truth. Too many transports, Imperial and Kruger and Synth Foods. Finally, they got to the gate.

“Alright, just signalling Lübeck so they know we're coming.”

“And we're clear, proceeding through gate now.”

“Copy. Engineering status currently green.”

And so they went, Lübeck popping into view amid the swirling lights with her guns already firing out against a squadron of Red Hessian fighters. Some few of the border station’s own fighters were engaged, but the numbers were near-even, and Booth stared for a moment. He watched their own escort follow down to join the fray below them, considered if they could help. In all reality though, they couldn’t…he watched on one of the sensor screens the icons cluster together and shift before falling together again, some switching or overlaying their targeting data as the not-yet-repaired targeting computer struggled and failed to make distinguishments. Besides that, the dogfight was too far below. But he did see their escort make quick work of the Hessians, coming back into formation. As they did, a question popped into Booth’s mind.

“Sorry for the delay. Station requested for a quick help.”

“Alright, just one more lane to Alster.”

“Interrogative, is there a specific berth for this refueling?”

“Secondary yard, upper berth.”

He returned the information with the acknowledge signal, half-turned as the OOD was already setting about with orders. There was something good and fine about the way it was done, quick and snappy as waypoint data and standby helm commands were relayed across from them to JOOD to Conn and back again. JOOD started to relay signals down to Engineering for the fuel booms, the gear getting ready for unlock as soon as they exited the trade lane. A smile crept against Booth’s face at it. Snappy, good, honest.

They came out of the lane and the local circuit burst into activity with all the prepared commands released, a dam of information broken out. They made for the secondary yard, coming about port as braking thrusters fired to pivot them about to the right orientation, while amidships Booth could see on the screen the refuel booms opening out starboard. Fuel lines along their lengths snaked and slowly whipped with the motion, coming tight in curved arcs between the connectors as the booms came to a halt.

The Endeavor slowed to a halt, booms extending out and magnetically locking with their respective ports. The hoses went straight again, reeled in to kill the slack. A report came and went from Engineering. Refueling was in progress. Booth could only smile still as he clicked the comms on.

“Clamps set and hoses are across for refueling.”

“Roger, Soltau is awaiting our arrival for final checks, then we'll proceed into Bering.”

“Affirm. Will inform you when complete.”

It didn’t take long, in all reality. The Zoner suspected that Engineering had only diverted fuel to the tanks confirmed to have a void pressure; such a thing would mean that they weren’t ruptured in any way and, to be sure, that was as important as anything. Of course, they’d also worked to confirm that the tanks didn’t have any significant spall damage on the interior lining, something that would destroy their fuel systems. That cut down the number of suitable tanks down even further. But then, they only needed to make it to Bristol Bay and, after that, only need to make it to Pacifica. Booth could afford to only have short jaunts.

A report came up from Engineering and they set back to work again. The fuel lines were cleared, purged with a blast of gas through from Alster and diverted out into the void, and as the cloud dissipated outwards Booth could see the magnetic clamps retract and the boom swing back into its resting position slowly. As it did, they started up the engines. Helm commands flew about quickly.

“Disconnecting my lines.”

“Right, ready to proceed through lane.”

They came up alongside, soon enough entering the trade lane and watching as Hamburg came further into view. Soltau and Altona came into view as well, the carrier being a little further and hard to see amid the black of space. Some shipping was there as well, though from behind the planet Booth could see a Rheinlander Battlecruiser with its own escorts. Booth sighed, watching them fly on past the green-gray hulls.

“Alright, one last lane until Bering. We're to continue escort until you make it stationside.”

”Danke.”

On through the jump gate again, and on through the trade lanes. Booth felt far more at ease at that moment they entered Bering, seeing the Tanner belt as it was, in the distance Akutan and the rest of it. In the distance was Pacifica, too, their destination once everything calmed down and passed on by. It was a good place to be, even if they had to deal with the Rheinlanders for a little while longer. In reflection, the pair hadn’t been all that bad compared to what they might have otherwise gotten.

“We'll proceed first.”

”Copy all, much obliged.”

“Enroute to junction now. Alright, let's head on to Bristol Bay.”

There it was. Home, or at least as close to it for the next long while. Bristol Bay Station was there, Bristol escorts, all of it. He could see the ad-hoc mooring point for it as well, on the aft section of the station nearer than Booth would love to the Freeport reclamation efforts. He clicked on the comms, nodding to himself inside the cumbersome helmet as, belated, the Zoner prepared the data package to the gunship.

”Much obliged on the escort, Rheinland.”

”That's an affirmative, try not to lose it.”

”Before I forget, transferring the inspection documents from our repairs to your unit, Helle Wolke. Since that was requested prior by the Herr Admiral.”

”Affirmative, Admiral von Richter will be most pleased with this.”

”Best of luck to you, Rheinlander.”

”We're making heading back to the Soltau, best of luck.”

Watching the Rheinlanders depart, the Endeavor came in for the final approach. Booth could just smile again at it. One step closer, he told himself, one step closer.

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Operation Have Sea