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Admiral's Nemesis Part II




  Admiral's Nemesis, Part II

  (A Spineward Sectors Novel: Book 12)

  by

  Luke Sky Wachter

  Copyright © 2018 by Joshua Wachter

  All rights reserved.

  All characters and events in this book are fictitious. All resemblance to persons living or dead is coincidental. Respect my electronic rights because the money you save today will be the book I can't afford to write for you tomorrow.

  Other Books by Luke Sky Wachter

  SPINEWARD SECTORS NOVEL SERIES

  Admiral Who?

  Admiral's Gambit

  Admiral's Tribulation

  Admiral's Trial

  Admiral's Revenge

  Admiral's Spine

  Admiral Invincible

  Admiral's Challenge

  Admiral's War—Part One

  Admiral's War—Part Two

  Admiral's Nemesis—Part One

  RISE OF THE WITCH GUARD NOVEL SERIES

  The Blooding

  The Painting

  The Channeling

  RISE OF THE WITCH GUARD NOVELLAS

  The Boar Knife

  Books by my brother, Caleb Wachter

  SPINEWARD SECTORS: MIDDLETON'S PRIDE

  No Middle Ground

  Up The Middle

  Against The Midde

  McKnight's Mission (A House Divided I)

  Middleton's Prejudice

  Lynch's Legacy (A House Divided II)

  The Middle Road

  A House United (A House Divided III)

  IMPERIUM CICERNUS: THE CHIMERA ADJUSTMENT

  Ure Infectus

  Sic Semper Tyrannis

  SPHEREWORLD SERIES

  Joined at the Hilt: Union

  Joined at the Hilt: Dross

  SHEREWORLD NOVELLS

  Between White and Grey

  SPINEWARD SECTORS: A TRACTO TALE

  The Forge of Men

  SEEDS OF HUMANITY: THE COBALT HERESY

  Revelation

  Reunion

  COLLABORATIVE WORKS BY LUKE SKY WACHTER & CALEB WACHTER

  SPINEWARD SECTORS NOVELLAS

  Admiral's Lady: Eyes of Ice, Heart of Fire

  Admiral's Lady: Ashes for Ashes, Blood for Blood

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1: The Shakedown Cruise

  Chapter 2: Cornwallis Fleet Advances into The Reach

  Chapter 3: The Official War Plan

  Chapter 4: The ‘Unofficial’ War Plan

  Chapter 5: It’s a Spalding! Part 1

  Chapter 6: CNN Bad News Travels Fast

  Chapter 7: The Decision is Made

  Interlude: The Stalwart Decision

  Chapter 8: Trouble in Easy Haven

  Chapter 9: Commodore Montagne

  Chapter 10: The Hot Potato Skirts the Grand Fleet of Liberation

  Chapter 11: Cornwallis and the Supply Dumps

  Chapter 12: The Matter with Antimatter

  Chapter 13: Grand Admiral Montagne

  Chapter 14: Isaak’s Frustrations

  Chapter 15: Easy Haven Receives Troubling News

  Chapter 16: Admiral Montagne Issues Movement Orders

  Chapter 17: Long Faces in Easy Haven

  Chapter 18: Imperial Destroyer Squadrons

  Chapter 19: Receiving the Scout Reports

  Chapter 20: Imperial Sightings at the Core Worlds

  Chapter 21: The Laurent Surprise

  Chapter 22: The Pressure is On

  Chapter 23: The Return of the Crazy Ivan!

  Chapter 24: The Lucky Clover Goes to Capria!

  Chapter 25: The Re-Return of the Crazy Ivan!

  Chapter 26: Bad News from Easy Haven

  Chapter 27: Sallying the Fleet

  Chapter 28: Imperial Maneuvers

  Chapter 29: Jason’s Scheme

  Chapter 30: An Imperial Attack

  Chapter 31: Late to the Party

  Chapter 32: Stand and Fight!

  Chapter 33: To Guard the Body

  Chapter 34: Sacrifices and a Well Planned Operation

  Chapter 35: Recriminations

  Chapter 36: Cornwallis in Aegis

  Chapter 37: Dire News

  Chapter 38: Cornwallis Broods

  Chapter 39: Telling the Captains the Plan

  Chapter 40: One Small Hang Up

  Chapter 41: Cornwallis Decides

  Chapter 42: Grand Fleet of the Spine is Moving In

  Chapter 43: The Battle Begins!

  Chapter 44: The Battle is on: Initial Maneuvers

  Chapter 45: Imperial Tactics

  Chapter 46: Confederation Worries

  Chapter 47: Anti-Ship Strikes Devastate the Fleet

  Chapter 48: Agitation and Deadly Losses Among the Fleet

  Chapter 49: The Imperial Grind

  Chapter 50: Carrying Out Orders

  Chapter 51: Confederation Frustration

  Chapter 52: Imperial Gloating

  Chapter 53: It’s a Spalding! Part 2

  Chapter 54: The Surprise!

  Chapter 55: Imperial Sensor Readings

  Chapter 56: The Lucky Clover and Mighty Punisher Head to Head

  Chapter 57: Imperial Fury

  Chapter 58: The Bugs Awaken

  Chapter 59: The Great Escape!

  Chapter 60: The Clover in Peril

  Chapter 61: The MSP Watches with Horror

  Chapter 62: MSP Turns and Re-Engages

  Chapter 63: Vantage of the Battlefield

  Chapter 64: Victory?

  Imperial Navy

  2nd Naval Reserve Flotilla – Fleet Strength

  1 Imperial Command Carrier (1000 fighters): Mighty Punisher

  4 Light Carriers (400 Fighters)

  18 Battleships

  50 Cruisers

  120 Destroyers

  8 Minesweepers

  Total: 180

  Confederation Fleet: Grand Fleet of Liberation (Pro-Imperial)

  Main Fleet

  112 Battleships

  214 Cruisers

  412 Destroyers

  169 Corvettes

  Total: 907

  Freighters

  Couriers

  Constructors

  Assorted Civilian Starships

  Total: 300

  Sub-Units of Note:

  Task Force Puma (Prior to Central Battle)

  CO: Front Admiral Willard Featherby Commanding

  Chief of Staff: Commodore ‘Bob’ Fritters

  Flagship Puma: CO Flag Captain Weathers

  21 Battleships

  35 Cruisers

  34 Destroyers

  Total: 90

  Task Force 47

  Force Commander: Front Admiral Martin Barragan

  29 Cruisers

  58 Destroyers

  Total: 87

  Chapter 1: The Shakedown Cruise

  “Anything on the scans?” asked Captain Stravinsky, breaking the silence on the command deck. It wasn’t much of a command deck, originally being only a basic freighter control room. But after the Fleet got her hands on the ship, she…well, she still looked exactly like the basic run of the mill freighter she’d started as.

  Run-down and cramped—and with a mysterious stain on the back wall behind the captain’s chair—she looked like a down-on-her-luck merchant ship. But underneath all that grunge and the sketchy interior paneling, she sported the latest in military hardware—or at least the best the Fleet contingent in Easy Haven could manufacture. In short, she was a recently commissioned Q-ship.

  And she was all hers.

  Captain Stravinsky snorted.

  “Nothing so far, Captain. Plot is empty and everything looks set for a smooth transition to the next star system,” said the Sensor
Officer who did double duty as one of only three sensor operators on the bridge of the Hot Potato.

  Stravinsky frowned because even though his voice was steady she could still hear the sigh behind his words.

  “Expect the unexpected, Junior Lieutenant,” Stravinsky said tartly, searching for the right tone. She didn’t want to micromanage her people, yet at the same time …

  “Aye aye, Sir,” agreed the other officer, breaking her out of her ruminations.

  The Hot Potato’s Captain pursed her lips.

  Her crew was green and untested, which wasn’t very surprising considering the current state of the reserve squadron. Easy Haven, and the Wolf-9 contingent stationed there, had expanded itself all the way into a decent sized task group—right before the Imperials under Admiral Arnold Janeski invaded and killed or seriously injured something like half of them.

  Right now they were licking their wounds and coming back together under a new leader, Acting Commodore Synthia McCruise. At that thought, the Captain of the Hot Potato frowned.

  With ships and crew contingents shot to pieces, it was no surprise that the Hot Potato hadn’t exactly been outfitted with the crack crew her captain had grown accustomed to serving with under their former commander, Commodore LeGodat. As his Flag Captain it had been her job to work hand in hand with him and take much of the burden off the System Commander as he juggled both the mobile forces, battle-station and defenses of an entire star system. As such, she’d required and received the best—and she’d gotten it.

  All that changed when her previous command was disabled and LeGodat died. Or at least that was what everyone, including Captain Stravinsky, had thought up until a few days ago. There was no denying her former command was down for the count with the repair yard backed up with no end in sight, but when it came to their former commander...

  It could simply be that there was a new sheriff in town and the Acting Commodore, Synthia McCruise, was flexing her muscles and throwing her weight around determined to get things done. That was normal enough for any new commander, let alone one who arose to the top of a battle damaged chain of command. Most any commander worth their salt liked to put their personal stamp on things.

  Even still, the way Captain McCruise had concealed the fact that the Commodore was still alive was criminal, in Stravinsky's opinion, and she was ready to say so in front of a review board.

  Because even if he was in critical condition and currently stuck in stasis, that was no excuse! Colin LeGodat was the man who single-handedly maneuvered them through three and a half years of bloody chaos and deadly danger. He deserved better than to be stuck in a freezer while everyone who cared for him was told he was dead!

  When the Confederation abandoned the reserve squadron in place, telling them to wait for another photo-op that never materialized, Sector 25 and the entire Spine imploded. At that point it was the Commodore, along with the Little Admiral who had held the reserve crews together and brought the Easy Haven star system back up to what it had been.

  “Put our current location up on the main screen,” she instructed, feeling her emotions growing beyond a safe level as she stewed over things she'd had no ability to change—but she was powerless no more. And wasn’t that the part that galled the most? She’d been shuffled off to a sideshow command like yesterday’s news while the Acting Commodore did whatever she wanted, and Stravinsky had even been forced to be grateful for it.

  “It’s up for you, Captain,” reported her operations officer after a short pause.

  “Right smack in the middle of the Overton Expanse,” Stravinsky said with patent dissatisfaction, noting the desolate patch of space they were located. It was legitimately worrisome being so far out in the middle of nowhere. You could call her a Q-ship but, in reality, the Hot Potato was essentially nothing more than an up-gunned freighter.

  A freighter with a critical mission: to take their worst injured sailors back to Confederation space and get them the best care possible in a top of the line Confederation fleet hospital

  “What’s our fuel status?” she asked as she pulled up the latest crew performance manifest and started scanning through the individual reports.

  Right now Stravinsky and the q-ship, CSS Hot Potato, were on a shakedown cruise in the middle of the Overton Expanse, and while the Reserve Squadron had done its best at putting a Q in front of the ship’s classification, all the weapons and shield upgrades in the galaxy still did nothing to change the fact that the hull of the Potato, when compared to that of a proper warship, was still basically an eggshell just waiting to be cracked.

  “Fuel bunkers for normal space engines down to 63%; fuel consumption holding well within expected tolerances,” reported Helm, giving his pre-jump report.

  Stravinsky turned her eyes toward the pimple-faced Ensign at the Nav console and then—predictably—waited.

  “We have enough trillium to jump all the way to the Old Confederation Capitol and back home, Sir,” the Navigator said belatedly, her face coloring as she nervously pushed her bangs out of her eyes.

  “Humph,” Stravinsky harrumphed. Unfortunately there was only one navigator on the Potato currently and the Ensign was it.

  At only sixteen years old it was enough of a miracle the Ensign’s family had signed an age waiver, allowing her to apply for the service. But it was an even greater blessing that the fleet personnel department in Easy Haven had accepted her.

  Fortunately for the young Ensign, she had been calculating Nav-jumps on a family freighter almost identical to the Hot Potato since she turned 13 years old.

  It still gave the Captain heartburn to see a teenager who hadn’t even formally reached her first majority, holding the fate of the ship in her extremely young hands, each and every time the young girl calculated a point transfer. If she’d had another navigator, a more experienced navigator, she’d have eased the young woman into the job. Unfortunately, she didn’t.

  While Stravinsky was lost in thought, the captain’s chair beeped at her. “Stravinsky here,” she accepted the channel request.

  “Captain, it's Doctor Blue-Comet down in Medical,” said the Doctor.

  “Trouble Doc?” asked Stravinsky, her shoulders instinctively tightening.

  “Nothing that can’t wait,” he assured her, “one of the coolant tanks needed to be taken offline for inspection. It was running 3% under minimum efficiency ratings. Engineering’s tracking it down as we speak; they suspect a leaky coolant line but we won’t know more until later. Rest assured we have more than enough redundancy built into the system we could down-check this tank for the rest of the trip if necessary. So no problem on that account as of this moment,” he reported.

  “Understood. Thank you, Doc,” said the Captain before adding, “was there anything else?”

  “No, Sir. Our cargo continues to remain unaffected by our voyage to the Confederation and the various equipment maintenance,” said the Doctor, “really, the only reason I called was because of your standing orders to report any issues no matter how minor.”

  Suppressing a frown at the doctor’s reference to the Commodore and their fellow crewmates as cargo, Stravinsky stiffened.

  “You did the right thing. Continue to apprise me of any and all further issues in the future,” she said and then paused, “oh, and Doctor, what you do in the privacy of your own mind or for official reports is entirely your affair but please refrain from referring to our injured crewmates as cargo where any officers or crew can hear.”

  Doctor Blue-Comet frowned and then reluctantly nodded. “Acknowledged, Captain,” he said and then cut the channel.

  Stravinsky pursed her lips. Right now her mission was twofold. First: contact the Confederation for new orders for Easy Haven and the reserve squadron; second: secure medical attention for the heavily injured fellow officers in cryo-stasis. But personally she would view this entire mission as a failure if their ‘cargo’, meaning LeGodat and the other critically injured, died en-route. She would accept nothing less than s
uccess, which meant zero mistakes.

  So thinking, the Captain turned to her overly young navigator.

  “Lay in a course and notify me at least ten minutes prior to our next jump. I’ll want to be on the bridge in case of an emergency. In the meantime I’m going to perform an inspection of the aft hydroponics section,” she informed her.

  “Aye aye, Captain,” piped back the underage woman at the Nav console.

  Shaking her head, Stravinsky walked off the bridge. Experience might be in short supply around here, but what they had in spades was a surplus of enthusiasm.