Commanding Officer’s Office
Earth Station
Sol System
“I understand you’ve been ordered to decommission some of our ships, by why these ones?” Admiral Elliot asked the hologram of Wayne Bainbridge. The Ark Royal and Viking were both old Concordia class ships, ships built before the war began. They were obsolete, but the loss of ships during the Enigma Campaign forced them back into action. Now the Mackinac and the Red Cliff were newer, Waterloo class carriers.
As always, there was a delay as the message tracked across a couple of light-seconds of space. Bainbridge smiled at her question. “If you must know, Candice, all four ships are more than a year over due for their five year overhauls. The Concordias are going to have a systems upgrade as well. The ceasefire might stipulate that construction stops, but it doesn’t prohibit repairs or upgrades.”
“What have the Cats taken off line?” Candice asked. She was pleased to see the ancient admiral following the letter of the law, instead of the spirit.
Bainbridge snorted in disgust. “Four Snakiers that were on the verge of falling apart. The Kilrathi will either repair them, or use them for target practice. The latter would be cheaper, but after losing that carrier over Munro III, they are claiming the right to reactivate one to make up for the loss.”
Candice scowled at the mention of Munro III. Both Concordia and Tarawa were in the middle of an attack when the ceasefire order reached the system. “Any news on Admiral Tolwyn?”
Bainbridge sighed. It was a sad sigh, one of a man who has carried the weight of the world on his shoulders for too long. “The Cats want to crucify him, and the Doves in Congress want to hand the Cats some nails and planks. Geoff has enough friends in Congress to prevent that.” The War Hawks supported Tolwyn in his actions, as well as support his story that the message had not arrived in time. Even if it did, it would have taken a few minutes to reach the fighters. The Doves claim that the fact that Cat carrier did not have its shields up should have tipped off the pilots. Candice knew from personal experience that pilots did not think like that until after adrenaline wore off.
Bainbridge continued with a slight grin. “The most ironic part of it is that one his biggest supporters is the Senator from Ghorah Khar.”
Candice almost laughed at the mention of Keitcha nar Ghorah Khar. She did laugh when she watched a recording of the Kilrathi Senator telling off half of Congress. There were advantages of not having to run for re-election. As best as Candice could tell, the Ghorah Khar Pride simply appointed her as their representative. The vassal Prides had no say in the matter.
“It’s wrong, and you know it Wayne,” Candice snapped. “Either one of us would have done the same thing in his shoes, whether or not we received the ceasefire order. Killing a carrier that was in orbit with its shields down is far cheaper than a fair fight.” Said fair fight likely would have cost several pilots their lives and possibly a few Confed ships as well, since the Cats would be launching their own attack. Without shields, it would only take a single anti-ship missile to destroy a carrier. Maybe not even that; the fusion warhead of a fighter’s missile could do the job if it were allowed to penetrate the armor.
Bainbridge shrugged in resignation. “Unfortunately, it’s in the politicians hands right now. If it were up to me, I’d put him back on the Concordia and send him back to the Munro System, along with more ships.”
Candice frowned. She did not buy this ceasefire for one minute, especially since it was the Kilrathi who offered it. The Cats had to be buying time to catch their breath. Their whole—or rather the Kilrah Pride’s whole logistical network was on the verge of collapse. “Then you think the war isn’t over.”
Bainbridge laughed darkly at the idea. “Not by a long shot. I just hope the ceasefire lasts long enough for me to enjoy retirement for a few years before dying of natural causes.” If anyone earned the right for that fate, it was Wayne Bainbridge. He fought the war for its duration, from the Attack on McAuliffe to the Battle of Vukar Tag. He was far luckier than his old friend Thomas van Oranje, who bought it during the Kilrathi’s Operation: Unseen Death back in ’56.
Candice leaned back in her chair and starred up at the ceiling, almost through the ceiling in an attempt to see the future. “I hope it lasts too, but I know it won’t. I guess all we can do is hope for now.” Hope, and prepare for the next round.