By Patrick D. Hegarty
Captain Pondsworth sipped his tea and surveyed the tactical display with interest. His task force, the Stone Temple and Arrow squadron, were at the bottom of an elongated triangle. Approaching from the left was a force of Rebel ships composed of a light cruiser and nearly a dozen escorts. From the right came an Ork raiding fleet made up of a pair of Roks and a dozen Brute ramships. His Gothic class cruiser and its four attending Firestorm escorts were evenly a match for either force. Together, they could make life more than a little interesting. Already the Rebels were signaling to him, offering to make common cause against the Orks. And the Orks were broadcasting challenges to everyone. Pondsworth ordered Comms to maintain radio silence and Helm to maintain a slightly slower than average cruising speed. If everything went as planned, both fleets would engage each other before he got into firing range. He had decided to let what he does next be decided by what they do next. If they tore each other apart, that was fine. If they both decided to come after his task force, he had ample time to withdraw. Decisions made, he smoothed an imaginary wrinkle from his perfectly tailored and pressed uniform, took another sip of tea and settled his thin frame back into his command chair to await developments.
"Umm, Sir?" the executive officer asked hesitantly. "That's quite a few enemy ships out there."
Pondsworth took a sip of tea, "Yes, there is indeed." He knew what was on the officers' mind, but wanted him to say it.
The exec fidgeted nervously and began to perspire. He knew that questioning a captains' decisions had ended more than one naval career. Still, he felt it was his duty to prevent what he felt was an impending disaster. "We are heading into a situation where we will be outnumbered by over five to one."
"And this concerns you?" was the calm, measured reply.
He summoned his courage and replied, "Permission to speak freely sir?"
"Granted. In fact as my XO you are henceforth required to speak freely at all times."
He braced himself for the worst and blurted out, "Yes sir, it does concern me! Are you sure this is the correct course of action?"
Pondsworth smiled, "And that is why I am the Captain and you are the exec. Pay attention and learn. Two things. First, this vessel has an armored prow and despite the variety of ships we are encountering, there is not a lance or lance equivalent among them. Pay close attention to the scanner report please. Orks simply do not have lance type weapons. Those Rebel ships are all Cobras, Swords, and the torpedo armed version of the Dauntless. We are not immune to their weapon batteries, but we are very well protected. Our task force is armed with enough lance batteries to account for at least half a dozen escorts in a single volley. (pause, sip) Do the odds seem better now? Second, I've ordered our speed slowed so that the Rebels and Orks will engage each other before we are in firing range. With a little of the Emperors' luck, they should maul each other quite completely. When they're done tearing at each other's throats, that's when we'll be in firing range. There is defiantly something to be said for arriving fashionable late for some social occasions don't you think?"
Put that way, he felt much better about the situation. "And if they unite and come against us?"
"Simple really (pause, sip), we turn around and run away. It does not serve the Emperors will to see us destroyed for no purpose. And by the way, congratulations. You passed the test. You get to keep your job."
"What test?" Any relief he felt from having things explained to him suddenly vanished.
(pause, sip) "I have no use for an Executive officer that is afraid to confront me when he thinks I am making a mistake. Courage in the face of the enemy is one thing. Courage in the face of your Captain is quite another. Any fool can manage the first."
Pondsworth heard the lift doors open and felt the tension level on the bridge increase significantly. Commissar Griggs had finally arrived on the bridge. Pondsworth swiveled his chair to view the Commissar as he approached. The Commissar had been an annoyance ever since his arrival. Reassigned from a Guard regiment that had been doing trench and siege warfare for the last five years, Pondsworth considered him totally unacceptable for shipboard duty. This was a different kind of war. Commissar Griggs was tall, powerfully built, and very much used to having his orders followed without question and shooting those that do question them. Pondsworth surveyed the Commissar as he approached, taking in the none-to-clean, rumpled uniform that looked like it had been slept in (In fact, it had. Some habits are hard to break after five years in the trenches). Apparently, he mused, the Commissar had yet to get used to the idea that there was a ships laundry. As he got closer, Pondsworth sniffed and concluded that the Commissar also had yet to get used to the idea that he could shower on a daily basis as well. Casually, he pressed a button on the armrest of the chair to alert the bridge security team. They had been briefed on what to expect and were ready. Pondsworth sipped his tea and waited for the inevitable. Commissar Griggs would not be allowed to claim 'other duties' and avoid the issue any longer.
After being briefed on the situation, Commissar Griggs gave grim smile of satisfaction and said: "Excellent, some action at last." He took a step forward of the Captain in the command chair and ordered; "Helm, go to full thrust. Comms, open a channel to those Rebels. I want them to know who it is that's going to end their traitorous lives." His satisfaction turned to white rage as he realized that no one was acting on his commands. Behind him, Captain Pondsworth raised a hand and Commissar Griggs heard the sound of the pump being worked on numerous combat shotguns behind him. Ignoring the security troops, Commissar Griggs turned slowly and glared death down at the thin tea-sipping dandy seated in front of him. In a low voice somewhat akin to gravel being crushed, he ground out, "What is the meaning of this?"
Captain Pondsworth deliberately ignored the heated glare and the threatening tone and took a sip of tea. "Excellent. No rash behavior. We may yet resolve this without bloodshed. I've needed to discuss something with you and you have been ignoring me." He glanced pointedly at the security troopers' shotguns. "Do I have your attention now?" Not trusting himself to speak, Commissar Griggs simply nodded curtly. "Good. Simply put Commissar, (pause, sip) you seem to have forgotten, or perhaps you never really knew, your duties and your place on this vessel." The Commissar said nothing but the sound of his teeth grinding could be heard some distance away. "You are here to ensure the loyalty of the Captain and the crew to the Emperor and bolster the courage of those who find themselves lacking. You are free to seek out traitors and cultists and deal with them as you see fit. However, you do not (pause, sip) have any authority what so ever to issue commands relating to the daily functioning of this ship or give orders on the bridge during a combat situation."
Commissar Griggs was so enraged he could barely grind out the words, "What do you mean? My place?"
Pondsworth sipped his tea and glanced at the tactical display. This would have to be resolved quickly. "Yes Commissar Griggs, your place. You are not a naval officer and you cannot command a naval vessel while the existing officer corps is alive and loyal. You have no naval command training or experience."
The first officer interrupted; "Sir, the Rebels and the Orks have engaged. The Rebels are still calling for us to strike the Orks' flank."
Pondsworth glanced at the tactical display, noted the ranges and said; "Thank you Number 1, continue to monitor the situation and you will have my full attention very shortly. Back to you Commissar, (pause, sip), in the last two minutes you've done three things. First, you attempted to issue orders that you had no authority to give on the bridge while I and the rest of the command crew were alive and not engaged in treasonous activity. I don't know what they call it in the Guard, but in the Navy it is called mutiny and is punishable by immediate summary execution." Captain Pondsworth met the commissars' cold glare and went on, "We do not have to be having this conversation." He paused and sipped more tea while he waited for that thought to sink into the Commissar's mind. Griggs face remained completely chiseled in stone but his eyebrows shot up as he realized the import of what Pondsworth said. Seeing the reaction, Pondsworth continued. "You are also providing a dangerous distraction in a combat situation. That also is punishable by immediate summary execution. And lastly, by trying to give the orders you did, (pause, sip) you've proven to me that you don't know Zoat-shit about naval tactics. I don't make common cause with Rebels but they don't know that. It is to our advantage that they not know whom we are going to open fire on until we do open fire. Both those forces outnumber us individually, together, they would totally overwhelm us. Your order to close would have had us as the closest target to both groups when firing range was reached. We would have been annihilated for nothing.
Now then, you have three choices. One, insist that you are right and I am wrong and reach for a weapon. I will then of course, exercise my right to execute you. Two, admit that I am right and consider yourself a failure and a disgrace. You will be escorted to the brig where you cannot cause any more trouble and await our return to port where you will be dealt with accordingly. Or three, admit I am right, swallow your pride, and put this whole unfortunate mess down as a learning experience. Then shut up and stay out of my way while I do my job. It is, after all, a very different kind of war than what you are used to." He looked at the tactical display again. The Rebels and Orks were exchanging fire and both groups would be in firing range very soon. "You have about ten seconds to decide."
Pondsworth didn't need to be a psychic to see that the Commissar was having considerable internal turmoil. Not only was there the cold unblinking glare, the audible grinding of his teeth, and the slow, deep labored breathing, there was the Commissar's color. It had ranged from deathly pale to an unhealthy almost purple, depending on just what the Commissar was thinking. Just before the Captain was about to have him executed for being a dangerous distraction, Griggs mastered his breathing and gained enough control to speak. "Never since my cadet days has anyone dared to bring me to task and put me in my place. People just don't tell a Commissar what his job is." Pondsworth met his gaze and took a sip of tea while waiting for him to continue. "But also, I've never served aboard a ship before. I accept your challenge. I didn't survive five years of trench warfare by not knowing when to stand my ground, and when to give it. All of this," he looked around the bridge, and then back at the prim, thin, tea-sipping fop sitting in the captains' chair, "and especially you, are not what I expected. It seems that I will need time to adjust to this, different, battlefield." Putting things into a perspective that he could easily understand, he decided to treat the shipboard culture the same as he would for a Guard regiment from a strange world. He mused, a particularly strange world that had lots of bizarre local customs to learn. He decided it was time to simply observe and learn.
"Excellent." Pondsworth replied, (pause, sip) and waved away the security team. "Perhaps now we can get back to the battle before it's all over and we never had a chance to contribute to it."
"Yes, of course, the battle." Commissar Griggs took a deep breath and exhaled. He then turned around and detached the hold down straps over his weapons. He then took up a position just behind, and to the right of the captain's chair. Pondsworth suppressed a delicate cough and made a mental note that if that is where the Commissar now considers his post, he would need to get the adept-techs to adjust the direction that the ventilation fans blew.
Pondsworth regarded the Commissar and sighed. He set his tea mug into a holder on the chair and said; "Commissar Griggs, we are in the middle of a battle. Will you please make sure your weapons are secure before you hurt someone?" Griggs said not a word (but did make several choking noises) and slowly replaced the hold down straps on his weapons. He was having a great deal of difficulty with the concept of taking precautions not to hurt someone during a battle.
Pondsworth gave his full attention back to the tactical display and refreshed himself with how the battle was going at this point. The Rebels were using a standard Imperial formation which was not surprising since they were Imperial trained before becoming traitors. Torpedo runs were being made on the Roks, leaving the Swords to screen the Dauntless. The initial pass of the escorts of both sides went as expected. The tactical display blurred briefly as the scanners tries to determine what was now floating debris and what were still viable fighting ships. The Rebels destroyed a few ships with massed battery fire and torpedoes stabbing into the Ork formation, but paid the price for it when the Ramships lived up to their name and smashed through several escorts in return leaving their shattered hulls drifting in space. Of particular note was the behavior of the Roks. One had attempted to ram the line of Cobras but had missed them all except for the last one, which shattered into a cloud of fragments when it impacted on the Roks' surface. The other Rok seemed intent on heading for the Stone Temple. Pondsworth decided that that Rok could wait. Of more immediate interest to him was the dense mix of Rebel and Ork ships directly in front of him.
"Weapons, launch torpedoes directly forward, wide spread. And have port lance batteries do something about that Rok that's closing on us. Comms, inform Captain Vallie that his squadron is free to select their own targets but he is to maintain formation."
"Sir, what is the primary target for the torpedoes?"
Pondsworth sipped some tea and glanced at the tactical display. "Just turn them loose as ordered. It's a target rich environment. Let them pick their own targets."
The weapons officer looked inquiringly at the captain and then shrugged and relayed the orders to the officers of the weapon systems.
Commissar Griggs scowled down at the Captain but said nothing. He had just admitted to himself that he knew very little about space combat, but still, the orders seemed somewhat imprecise to him. Thinking in terms he could relate to, he would never have called in an artillery barrage to strike 'over there'. The torpedoes shot forth from their launch tubes and plowed into the mixed formation of Ork and Rebel ships. The short range targeting computers on the torpedoes had no difficulty selecting targets. Griggs watched the tactical display with interest. Although imprecise, the order seemed very effective. Once free of the launch tubes, the on board targeting computers quickly locked on to targets and adjusted their course. Stuttering flashes erupted from the ships of both fleets as the ordinance defense turrets opened fire. Some succeeded, but in the end it was not enough to prevent more Ork and Rebel escorts from joining the expanding field of ship debris. Ship hulls flared briefly while oxygen burned away and quickly all that remained of several escorts were broken masses of twisted, blackened metal. Meanwhile, lance fire from the port side batteries stabbed out toward the Rok. but all either missed or failed to do any noticeable damage.
Captain Pondsworth swiveled his chair to address the weapons officer. "That was especially pathetic by any standards. Tell the officers of the lance batteries that their performance is unacceptable and if need be I'll ask Commissar Griggs to stop by and see if he can provide them with a little inspiration and motivation." He glanced over to the Commissar. He nodded curtly. In his present mood he would be more than happy to provide some motivation to some naval officers.
Trying to put the best face on things the weapons officer commented, "With due respect sir, the Rok was hit and it is trailing debris."
Pondsworth favored him with a disdainful glance. "Two things, first, I have access to the same damage assessment screens you do. Second, it's an Ork Rok. It was trailing debris before the engagement even began." Wisely, the weapons officer said nothing and turned back to his monitors.
The Rok had maneuvered close enough to open fire on Arrow squadron and blew Captain Vallie's Firestorm into millions of pieces with its heavy gunz.
"Comms." Captain Pondsworth spoke, "open a channel to the Captains of the other escorts." Momentarily, two vidscreens sprang to life and Captains Morton and Saul, standing at attention in the bridge conference room, was visible. The vidscreen for Captain Balnick flickered on and showed the Captain still in his command chair with a hand up for Captain Pondsworth to wait while he finished issuing orders to his own bridge crew. "Now that we're all here," Pondsworth began (pause, sip) "Captain Balnick, you are now the Commander for Arrow Squadron." All three Captains showed considerable surprise at the quick decision. None of escort Captains except Vaillie had ever met Pondsworth. Pondsworth dismissed them and returned to the tactical display. Griggs was also surprised by the quick decision (he hadn't thought Pondsworth was the type that could think quickly. (He had much yet to learn about Pondsworth.)). "You must know your Captains quite well." He began.
"Oh no, never even saw their faces before just now."
Griggs frowned, "Then why did you pick Balnick to command?"
"Simple really, (pause, sip) his name comes first in the alphabet."
"WHAT!! You gave command of an entire squadron based on where his name was in the alphabet!"
"Yes, that and (pause, sip) if you noticed, he was the only one who stayed at his station when I called. The other two retired to the bridge conference rooms during a combat situation. I like commanders that put duty before formalities. And unless dead, a Captain should always be on the bridge during a battle."
"Sir!" weapons called for attention, "The adept techs in the torpedo room report that the reloading equipment is malfunctioning and the tubes cannot be reloaded." Pondsworth swiveled his chair to address the weapons officer directly. "Inform the adept techs that should a favorable firing solution present itself I intend to shoot something from the tubes at the enemy. I would prefer it to be torpedoes, however, (pause, sip) incompetent adept techs will also do nicely." The weapons officer grinned as he relayed the message. The adept techs have been refusing to take responsibility for equipment problems blaming 'moods of the machine god' for everything. "This should shake them up." He muttered to himself.
"Sir!" scanners called for attention, "The Ork escorts have disengaged the Rebels and are on an intercept course with this ship. Also sir, I know it sounds crazy, but I believe the Rok is attempting to intercept and ram too." Pondsworth examined the tactical display and frowned. There weren't many options. The torpedo tubes were empty and the port lance batteries had not cycled back to power yet. Arrow squadron had turned to engage the Rok but they would not be able to do enough damage to stop it. Pondsworth sighed and took a sip of tea. "Weapons, whether that Rok hits us or not it will pass closely to the starboard side. Please ask the starboard lance batteries if they think they can hit the broad side of a Rok at point blank range. If they can't, well, (pause, sip) let's just leave that hanging." To be honest, he really couldn't think of an appropriate comment to make. The weapons officer however, took him quite literally (especially after the message he relayed to the adept techs) and relayed on to the weapon battery officers that they would all be hanged if they failed to hit the Rok. He wasn't the only one to misinterpret the comment. Commissar Griggs looked down at the Captain as he examined the tactical scanner. He had never seen a command style like this before. Pondsworth was non-threatening in appearance, soft spoken, polite, always calm, and yet utterly ruthless and totally fearless. Despite himself, he began to admire him a little. Griggs gaze went from the Captain to the tactical display and he started at what he saw. He leaned forward over the Captains' shoulder to get a better look and be sure he was not mistaken. "By the Emperor! They're going to ram us!" He shouted.
"No need to shout." Came the calm response from Pondsworth. "Scanners has already reported it to me. They are called Ramships for a very good reason." Pondsworth also made another mental note and moved discussing personal hygiene with the Commissar up several notches on his 'to do' list.
Griggs straightened up, "Aren't you going to do anything about it?"
"Well, yes actually." He proceeded to put his mug of tea in the holder on the chair and placed a lid on it. After that he secured several restraining belts. All around the bridge there was the sound of belts being clicked into place.
Griggs looked at him incredulously, "That's it? Aren't you going to shoot them down?"
"Our only forward firing weapons are torpedoes, and the tubes have not been reloaded yet."
"Can you maneuver out of the way?"
"This ship has more mass than some small cities I've been to. It's not exactly 'nimble'. If we tried to turn all we would do is expose our flank to them and the armor is weaker there than it is on the prow."
"Aren't you going to alert the rest of the ship?"
"I used to do that in situations like this. However I've discovered that having everyone hiding under tables with their arms over their heads greatly impairs combat efficiency."
Griggs was about to say something else when the Comms officer interrupted. "Sir, we're being hailed by one of the Ramships. They want to talk to you." Griggs spun to face the officer and drew a deep breath prior to bellowing at him for interrupting. Before he could get anything out though, Pondsworth interrupted him again. "If you please Commissar, it is his job to speak up when he has something that I need to know about. Comms? Did he ask for me directly?"
"Well sir, he wants 'Da Warboss of da big oomie Kroozer'. I presume we're the big cruiser and you're our Warboss."
"Quite correct Comms." Pondsworth frowned. He turned to Griggs and said, "This is highly unusual. Orks don't normally bother talking once the shooting starts. Fleet Intelligence will be very interested in this." He swiveled his chair to face the officer. "Comms, make sure all recorders are operational and then put them on the main screen." The main communication screen flickered and resolved into an image. Presumably this was the bridge of the Ork ship. However, it more closely resembled the locker room of a rugby team that just won the cup. A huge Ork, uglier and more scarred than the rest, noticed that the comm link was open and then turned to bellow at what was also presumably, the bridge crew. "AWLRIGHT!!! Day is lookin. Now like I learned ya." The Orks linked arms and began to chant (while swaying from side to side).
"Ere we go!, "Ere we go!
"Ere we come!, "Ere we come!
WAAAAAGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!
Every Ork then turned around and dropped their pants at the vid pickup. The huge Ork laughed uproariously and then brought his fist down on a large red button labeled, (not surprisingly) 'Da Button'.
The main comm screen faded to black leaving everyone staring in slack jawed amazement (except for Pondsworth, of course, who had simply raised one eyebrow.) at what they had just seen. A beeping at his console brought the Scanners officer back to his duties. "Sir, energy spike on all Ork escorts. All escorts are accelerating. Collision imminent." All around the bridge, crewmembers were grabbing a hold of things and getting ready for the impact, except for Pondsworth and Griggs. Pondsworth casually crossed his legs and folded his hands in his lap as if waiting for holovid show to start, and Griggs was not about to let this fop appear more composed than himself so he stood at 'parade rest' next to the Captains chair. Both of them watched the tactical display as the red dots rapidly closed on their green dot. Without looking up from the display, Pondsworth casually comments, "That was a rather interesting bit of intelligence don't you think Commissar?"
Just as casually (though forced), "Yes it was. But was it important?" The dots are getting close.
"Oh yes, It tells us that the Orks in this sub sector are fighting for fun rather than conquest."
"And that is significant?" The dots were very close now.
"Indeed, it is always good to know why your enemies fight. Also, I will enjoy very much sending that to Fleet Intelligence. With my compliments even." The engine flares of the Ork ships were visible through the forward view port. Griggs, (while trying to appear not to be in any way concerned) casually moved to an open area of the bridge. He theorized that if it didn't kill him outright, it couldn't be much worse than being on the receiving end of an earthshaker barrage. Although the idea appealed to him briefly, he didn't think it would look good on his record that he killed Captain Pondsworth by accidentally falling on him and crushing him. Several things happened in the next instant. Ork ships blazed to either side of the ship and the ship itself was rocked by the impacts of two Ram ships hitting the prow and oddly, breaking to pieces on impact. The Rok that had been trying to ram them also missed, but passed close enough that the engine wash blackened part of the prow and effectively welded the two smashed Ramships permanently onto the prow. It would take a shipyard to completely remove them. The Rok had scarcely entered the starboard firing arc when the lance batteries opened fire on it. All weapons hit dead on and Rok was very quickly reduced to a small asteroid cluster with Orkish debris floating along with it. [In fact, even the anti-ordinance turrets were shooting at it. Their officers had heard what would happen to the lance officers if they failed and wanted to be sure it was noted that they were doing their duty.] Now, it is a moot point whether it was superior Orkish constitution or they were just caught in an air pocket that hadn't dissipated yet, but as debris from the Ork ships traveled the length of the ship and began to bounce off the bridge forward view port, two Ork bodies were still 'soft' when.....
Splat!! Splut!!!
Both burst upon impact and had managed to cover quite a bit of area before the cold of space froze them solidly to the ceramglass of the view port. Everyone on the bridge had some sort of reaction. Almost entirely they consisted of 'non-verbal' comments but once again Pondsworth and Griggs were the major exceptions. Griggs didn't make any sort of comment, (having seen much worse) but the impacts had caught him off guard enough that he had his bolt pistol half drawn before he realized there was no threat. He was now in the process of replacing it in the holster as discreetly as possible before Pondsworth noticed and made a comment. It wasn't that what Pondsworth thought mattered to him. He was just concerned that if that dandy said anything he would lose control and blow his tea sipping head off. Pondsworth had in fact noticed what Griggs was doing but declined to say anything. Teasing Commissars was a rare sport indeed and one that should be engaged in only in moderation. Instead he uncapped his tea and took a sip before commenting, "And I thought bugs on my landspeeders' windshield were disgusting. Damage control, once all ship threatening items are taken care of, assign top priority to getting someone out there with a scraper to get that off. I refuse to stare at Ork entrails for the remainder of this patrol. Oh, and be careful not to scratch the glass." He then turned away from the grisly display and returned to the tactical display to see how the battle was going. "Dear me, it seems the battle ended while we were distracted." Griggs came over to look at the display. The few Rebel ships remaining were attempting to disengage by going to silent running and the few remaining Ork ships were accelerating out of the area.
Griggs looked down at Pondsworth, "That's it? The battle's over?" He looked around the bridge. Except for the Orkish anatomy lesson on the front view port, the bridge was completely the same as when he walked on to it before the battle. No fire, smoke, screams of the wounded, dead bodies, spent shell casings, exhausted survivors, none of the things he associated with battle. Even the floors were still clean!
"Yes Commissar, this is war is space. It's very different from what I am sure you're used to."
"What do we do now?"
"Well, damage control repairs what needs to be fixed and we resume our patrol and be ready to do it all again at a moments notice." Sitting where he was, Pondsworth noticed again that he was downwind of Griggs and the ventilation fans. "If you would be so kind Commissar, would you join me in conference room 437BV tomorrow at 1800 hours? We have a few things to discuss."