Retributions last stand, p.1
Retribution's Last Stand, page 1
RETRIBUTION’S LAST STAND
D.A. Boulter (c) 2024
Copyright page
This book is a work of fiction. All characters and events are fictitious and any similarity to people, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
Copyright (2024) by D. A. Boulter, all rights reserved
Cover Design D.A. Boulter (AI Image)
Other Books by D.A. Boulter:
Not With A Whimper Books:
Not With A Whimper: Producers
Not With A Whimper: Destroyers
Not With A Whimper: Preservers
Not With A Whimper: Survivors
Yrden Chronicles Books:
Trading For The Stars (Book 1)
Trading For A Dream (Book 2)
One Trade Too Many (Book 3)
Trading For War (Book 4)
Pelgraff (Book 5)
Trading in Secrets (Book 6)
Partisan of Pelgraff (Book 7)
Other Amazon Books by D.A. Boulter
Courtesan
Pilton's Moon / Vengeance Is Mine
ColdSleep
The Steadfasting
Prey
Enemy of Korgan
Ghost Fleet
In The Company of Cowards
A Throne At Stake
Ghost in the Game
Wreck
D.A. Boulter’s blog: http://daboulter.blogspot.ca/
D.A. Boulter can be contacted at: mailto:dougboulter@gmail.com
Copyright page
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
CHAPTER 27
CHAPTER 28
CHAPTER 29
CHAPTER 30
CHAPTER 31
CHAPTER 32
CHAPTER 33
AFTERWORD
CHAPTER 1
The evening stars of late winter glimmered, inviting, enticing, beckoning in the Pacerean sky above the lounge chair upon which lay, cocooned in blankets, a young girl dreaming young-girl dreams.
“Gwendolyn, suppertime,” her mother’s voice brought the girl out of her reverie, making her conscious of the white clouds of her breath, which occasionally obscured the stars she loved.
Up there, somewhere, the battlecruiser Retribution provided protection for the planet and its people. Someday, somehow, she would stand on Retribution’s deck – maybe as captain? – and fight against the Senien foe, whose atrocities had so wounded her family in the war, atrocities which her family had vowed never to forget. Someday she would dish out her own retribution, evening the scales – on Retribution herself. A worthy dream.
“Gwendolyn Elizabeth Linden! Come in at once! Didn’t you hear your mother?”
“Coming, Dad.”
Gwen struggled out of the blankets, folded them neatly, picked them up, and walked towards the back door of the house. Before she went in, she gave the stars a last look.
“One day.”
* * *
The grey face of the impossibly young captain went blank as Retribution rounded the third moon of Pacerea.
“Detectors, confirm that report,” Captain Parteem said, looking at the screen that showed something that had no business being where the detectors showed it.
“Three enemy vessels, Captain, three Senien cruisers,” Detection Officer Lynto said, looking at the captain, waiting for the orders that should already have come. His forehead wrinkled with disgust as their leader continued to fail to react properly.
Warrant Officer Roeno gave Gwendolyn a slight nod, and she leaned close to the Captain’s Chair and whispered, “Action Stations?”
Captain Parteem jerked, then reacted. “Sound Action Stations!”
The alarm blared throughout the ship, and reports came flooding in.
“Ship at Action Stations, Captain,” Executive Officer Karbash reported.
“Gunnery, forward weapons target enemy cruiser Alpha. Navigation, plot me a course to split the targets so that both port and starboard weapons can engage.”
Green lights lit above the Gunnery Console.
“Forward weapons, open fire on Target Alpha. All other weapons free fire as weapons come to bear on targets. Helm, take us in.”
“No!” Lieutenant Lynto turned from the detectors, anger on his face. “This is wrong. You’ll destroy us. Belay that order.”
Parteem showed his shock and turned his eyes from Lynto to Gwendolyn. She gave a minute nod.
Parteem pressed his lips together, then said, “Lieutenant Lynto, you are relieved of duty. Jefferson, take over.”
“You can’t do that; you can’t order me. You’re Bratio,” Lynto declared.
Captain Parteem appeared shaken at that declaration. Gwendolyn caught his eye and gave him a stern look, settling the young captain, then turned to Roeno.
“Warrant Officer, remove Lieutenant Lynto from the bridge.”
Roeno gave Lynto a grim look. “Do I need to call Security?”
Shaken, Lynto shook his head, stood and exited the bridge. Gin Jefferson slipped into his vacated chair.
“Target Alpha taking hits, sir,” she reported. “Its shields are holding. All enemy ships now coming about.”
“Prepare all tubes – distribute evenly.” The lights for the missile tubes lit green. “Fire all tubes! ” Parteem ordered.
“Firing all tubes,” Gunnery Officer Benns said. “All tubes fired.”
The ship shuddered as the missiles left their tubes. Bright dots on the detectors showed their flights.
“Enemy opening fire!” Jefferson reported.
Again, Captain Parteem looked to Gwendolyn for reassurance. Again she nodded minutely, so no one else might notice.
“Forward shields to maximum. Full thrust.”
He studied the attitude of the ship as it charged forward, pushing all the crew back in their chairs. Gwendolyn took a step to the rear so that her back pressed against the bulkhead. Nearby, Warrant Officer Roeno took his chair and strapped in. They exchanged glances.
“Firing port batteries, sir,” Benns reported. “Engaging Senien Cruiser Bravo.”
A few more seconds and the starboard batteries would come to bear.
“Cloaked missiles!” Jefferson called out, shocked.
“Target them,” Parteem ordered, voice shrill.
Retribution slammed sideways as missiles impacted. The entire bridge crew stopped everything and stared at each other, then at the speaker, which began to warble.
Roeno grinned at Gwendolyn.
“Hull breach,” called out Karbash from his console, looking at the Damage Control board, where a red light glowed menacingly.
“Where?” Parteem asked, voice still high.
“Portside, Deck 6.”
“Isolate.”
The ship jolted sideways again.
“Drop forward shields,” Parteem ordered. “Fire everything we have at Cruiser Alpha!”
“Alpha taking hits. Shields failing. Shield failed,” Jefferson reported. “Alpha destroyed.”
“Shields up!”
But Retribution took a hit that shocked her. Everyone jolted forward, including Gwendolyn, who only barely stopped herself by grabbing on to the back of the Captain’s Chair. She turned her head and gave W.O. Roeno a dirty look. His eyes laughed at her.
“Forward Battery Starboard destroyed, Captain,” Benns reported. Red lights flickered on the Gunnery board.
“Targets Bravo and Charlie turning to run!”
Gwendolyn could hear triumph in Jefferson’s voice.
“Missiles reloaded,” Benns reported.
“Fire all tubes, starboard targeting Bravo, port targeting Charlie,” Parteem ordered.
“All missiles fired.”
Again Retribution shuddered.
“Enemy shields going to maximum.”
Which meant they could no longer fire at Retribution.
“Drop shields, beams fire!”
Targets Bravo and Charlie disappeared from the detectors shortly thereafter. The missiles took out the shields; the beams eviscerated the ships.
“Secure from Action Stations,” Parteem ordered. He then turned to Gwendolyn. “How did I do?”
“Just fine,” she replied. “Just fine.”
“Okay, crew,” W.O. Roeno said. “Good work, all. Join me in the cafeteria for your debriefing. We will post new crew assignments for the next session.” He toggled the comm line. “Aux Bridge, you have control now.”
“Aux Bridge, aye.”
The bridge crew began talking to each other as they left the bridge. Gwendolyn turned to Roeno.
“Walter, you played a dirty trick, hitting those braking thrusters like that.”
He laughed. “How many times have I told you to strap in, Gwen?”
She gave him a mock glare. “You know I can’t. Someone has to get them over any hiccups, and calling out from a chair instead of whispering in an ear would destroy their confidence.”
“I know,” he agreed. “Especially with Bratio. You did a good job, Gwen. I only wanted to have a little fun with you.”
“Come on, let’s go debrief the cadets. We should tackle the Lynto problem first – in private. We don’t want to shame him.”
“Especially not in front of any Bratio.”
“Especially not in front of any Bratio – Parteem, in particular.”
They found Lynto waiting for them in what had once been the Captain’s Day Cabin.
“Cadet Lynto,” Chief Roeno said. “Can you tell me the error you made?”
“I made no error, sir. Parteem made the error. His tactics did not fit the situation, and a Bratio cannot order a Farnea.”
Roeno exchanged glances with Gwen. She shrugged. He gave her another look, which caused her eyes to close in resignation, for the coward wanted her to explain instead of taking it on himself.
“Cadet Lynto,” she began. “You are not Farnea.”
His eyes widened in outrage.
“And Cadet Parteem is not Bratio.”
“What!” The outrage of a highly insulted Garvid showed in his posture, sounded in his voice and resounded in his glare at her and Roeno, who had not contradicted her as he should have – at least in Lynto’s estimation.
“Not here on Retribution. You are both crew. The crew does not contain humans or Garvid, only crew. Garvid are not Farnea or Bratio, only crew. You must have read the regulations before coming up. They stated that very explicitly.”
He sat, tense, not liking this at all, but some of the outrage had dropped away, as Gwen had known it would.
“In the simulation we just ran, Parteem held the rank of captain. You held the rank of lieutenant. Captain outranks lieutenant and can give orders to that lieutenant, and the lieutenant must, I repeat, must obey.”
Lynto fumed.
Warrant Officer Roeno took over. “You see, Cadet, you made your error in believing you remained on Pacerea where the customs of the Garvid pertain with respect to the Garvid. Here, on Retribution, the customs of the Navy pertain, and the Navy does not recognize race, species, or caste, only rank.”
Lynto said nothing, but his posture still told the humans that he disagreed — vehemently. Roeno looked again at Gwen, eyes beseeching.
Yes, they could not afford to have this escalate into a caste feud. That would damage – perhaps irreparably – everything that they strived for, had attained. She sighed silently before speaking.
“Later, you will have your turn in the Captain’s Chair. With that rank, you will give orders to humans and Garvid alike, and they will obey those orders because you are captain, not because you are Farnea. Would you like it if a human questioned your ability and authority to command because you are Garvid, as you questioned Cadet Parteem’s because he is Bratio?” She waved off his attempt to answer. “I’m not asking you to give reply, just suggesting you consider it.”
“Parteem may have made errors,” Roeno continued, taking over from her, “but that’s fine. We learn from errors, both our own and those of others.” He pointed to the monitors on the wall that showed vid of the bridge as a whole and each position separately. “You kept a close watch, I hope.”
“Yes, sir,” Lynto said reluctantly, the “sir” forced, and likely not meant.
“Did you see anything that you would have done differently, or anything that you might not have done, but that worked well?”
“Yes,” he expelled the word after a momentary hesitation.
“Then you learned from the experience, even if you did not take part on the bridge. When your turn to command comes, you will have the advantage of having seen what others did that turned out well, and what others did that turned out less than well.”
Lynto nodded. “I will do better.”
Gwen smiled at him. “And you will do better in part because of what Parteem taught you through his actions or failures to act, his good decisions, his poor decisions.”
“I understand.” His anger had dissipated and Gwen believed they had avoided what might have turned out very badly for the program and for Retribution herself.
“Good. Now, let’s join the others for the debriefing. Afterwards, you will take your place as captain.” She smiled at him. “I think you’ll do well.”
Lynto nodded gravely. “I will,” he assured her. “I will.”
* * *
Retribution docked at Pacerea Station, under control of the auxiliary bridge, though with the cadets at stations on the main bridge inputting orders that went only to simulation computers. A starliner lay docked on the far side of the station to Retribution’s dock, and Gwen hoped for the best.
“Done,” Gwendolyn said. “You have an hour for dinner, then meet me in the main hall.”
Everyone except W.O. Roeno left.
“Walter, I wish we could do more than just orbit the planet and run simulations. I wish we could actually take them into hyperspace.”
“We just don’t have the money for fuel, Gwen.” His face crinkled with a smile meant to disarm. “And you know that as well as I do.”
“I do,” she sighed. “And you are getting very good at simulating missiles firing, hits taken, and all that with use of manoeuvring thrusters only. It makes it much more real for them.”
He laughed. “Especially the forward braking thrusters?”
“As I said, a dirty trick.” She looked around the bridge. “It could be so much more if the government would only increase the subsidy.”
He went from station to station resetting the equipment to normal for the next group – whenever that next group might come on board.
“What did you think about that Parteem-Lynto exchange?” Gwen asked.
“Could be future trouble. But Parteem somehow came up with the money for the position. He’s the first Bratio to do so; more may come.”
Gwen gave the bridge a final look-over. “Let’s go get dinner ourselves. We can discuss the ramifications later.”
He walked out with her, and they erected the barriers that would keep sightseers from going far enough into the bridge to disturb anything.
“I hate the Garvid caste system,” she said as they walked down the passageway towards the officer’s mess – now a cafeteria.
“It’s their culture – and they mightily resent humans who try to interfere in it,” Roeno said. “If we get more applicants, maybe we can divide them up so that in one session Bratio caste comprises the entirety of the Garvid portion of the bridge crew, and in the next, only Farnea.”
“We’re lucky to fill the roster at all. I can’t see doing anything other than what we did today. Navy Culture. Next intake, we’ll have to stress that first. I don’t want a repeat of what happened.”
“We can reiterate that in the re-creation and debriefing before we let them loose on the station.”
They arrived at the cafeteria, showed their badges, and received their food. Cadets sat at tables, talking together, sharing their feelings on what they had experienced. Gwen noted that Parteem and Lynto sat at different tables, Parteem at one that held only humans and no other Garvid.
Utter stupidity, she thought. Then again, she felt sure that the Garvid looked upon some human customs in the exact same way.
She ate quickly, wanting to get to the auditorium in good time, before the audience got seated.
The auditorium, once the main mess deck of the Retribution, boasted a sunken stage and rows of chairs, some now with patrons seated in them looking down on it. She knew she could count on some long-termers on the station, but hoped for guests from the liner, those who couldn’t afford to go down to the planet, but who had some extra money to spend on station activities – including visiting Retribution, the last surviving battlecruiser of the Senien War, now a museum-cum-training ship.
People – both Garvid and human – filed in, with her cadets taking a block of seats near the front. To her great disappointment, more than one third of the seats remained empty when the gong tolled the hour. To her dismay, she saw the final guest amble in: Ambassador Turg of the Senien Imperium.
“Damn,” she muttered to herself, “why did that slime have to pick today?”
CHAPTER 2
The lights in the auditorium lowered, and Gwen advanced to the lectern placed in the centre-front of the sunken stage. A single beam of light came down to illuminate her.
“Welcome, welcome all to the battlecruiser Retribution. This is her story. My name is Gwendolyn Smith of ‘The Friends of Retribution’ – an organization much less ominous than its name sounds.”
