First Mechanised Brigade Administrative HQ, Tule Mod Spaceport, An Ting, Galedon Military District, Draconis Combine – Week 2b, Nov 3021Hurrying through the door to the meeting room just down the hall from the administrative offices in the headquarters building Captain Edward Kent and Lieutenant-Colonel John Ligny II looked like two cats that had eaten very fat canaries. The two officers smiled their greetings to Captain Rory Fitzhugh, Lieutenant-Colonel Philip Valois and Commander Richard Howe. John Ligny waved Kent to a chair near the computer station where Sergeant Nicole Burns was already seated, busying herself with setting up the presentation already loaded into the network.
“Well, you two look like you are having just too much fun this morning”, quipped Richard Howe, “I trust the survey of the two candidate vessels was promising?”
Smiling over his old fashioned spectacles, John Ligny replied, “Well, ‘promising’ is a subjective term. Let’s just say that if we have time, and Captain Fitzhugh can cover the costs, we might be able to get both craft serviceable – “
Before he could finish his thought, Richard Bedford came through the door with two cups of tea in his hands. As he saw the room was already full of the meeting invitees he slowed his pace.
“Well, look at you people,” the brigade commander said with mock surprise, “Everyone is early for the meeting once again. I am pleased.”
Everyone who had any dealings with Colonel Richard Bedford knew that he was stickler for punctuality. He was patient with many personality flaws but insisted that the troops under his command know and understand the importance of “meeting your timings.” That applied especially in the field where a delay in a unit reaching its planned deployment position could mean the difference between victory and defeat, life and death. When the brigade was ‘in garrison’ the rule still applied as a matter of principle. If you could not manage to be on time on a base, how could you expect to be where you were needed when shot and shell were filling the air.
As he passed Sergeant Burns’ seat he placed one of the cups to her right.
“English Breakfast, one teaspoon of honey, Sergeant.”
“Thank you, sir.” Came Nicole Burns’ reply.
The informality between Richard Bedford and his immediate staff was well known. As was common amongst many mercenary commands the strict discipline and status bestowed by rank was less formal amongst staff members who had regular day to day interaction with each other. Individual rank was still present, but in the 1st Mechanised Brigade Richard Bedford had let it be known that, in the office, regular saluting and strict discipline did not foster the free flow of thought and expression that could be valuable to decision making process within the brigade.
“So, gentlemen,” Bedford began as he took his seat near the head of the table.
“I trust the inspections went well,” directing the comment to Edward Kent and John Ligny together.
John Ligny, as the senior of the two officers involved in the survey motioned to the brigade’s senior engineer.
“I’ll let Captain Kent give you the details, sir.”
Kent cleared his throat before he began. “Well, sir, both vessels are effectively wrecks if we went by the text books.
“The Union carrier up by the small moon can’t be repaired with the equipment or facilities here at An Ting. That said, if we focused on repairing the docking ring and getting the attitude thrusters in working order, we could tow her out to a jump point and then send her to the rear for a rebuild. It will be expensive but if the parts arrive in time, we could jump her away by the end of the year.”
“How long to repair once she reaches a rear area facility?” Bedford asked.
“We'll do what we can here but two months should do it, sir. With travel time, she could rejoin our fleet by the beginning of May next year.”
Bedford nodded, “Carry on, Captain.”
“The Buccaneer is another story entirely. Sergeant, could you open the file ‘Buccaneer’ and put it up the screen, please?”
The screen came alive as Kent picked up a remote that also contained a laser pointer.
“As you can see from this video, the hull is breached in a number of places and there is some structural damage that we can repair but the craft will never be as sound as it was before she was forced down.
“The command centre and cockpit are all damaged but can be repaired with a bit of effort. As this is the standard Combine variant, she has the extra weapons suite commonly found in this region. About half of these will need repair or replacing but, thankfully, the PPC is intact. Landing gear is damaged but these craft already have robust equipment so we can fix these.
“The main engine is badly damaged but salvageable, though she can’t get off planet without a major effort. If we expedite the parts delivery, focus on engines and controls and throw every spare Tech we have at her, she might be able to boost for the jump point by mid-January. A full repair and conversion would probably put her in a yard for two or three more months.”
The mention of ‘conversion’ peaked Richard Howe’s interest.
“Conversion, Captain? What kind of conversions are you thinking about?”
Turning to Sergeant Burns, Kent asked, “Could you call up the schematic, Sergeant?”
As the schematic of a Buccaneer came up, Kent continued.
“The main complaint with the Buccaneer as a transport has always been the lack of quarters for the vehicle crews. Since we need to strip the craft down for repairs in any case, we have the opportunity to make some changes. With just shy of twenty-three hundred tons of cargo capacity I am recommending we us 50 tons of the small hold to install 10 barracks bays that will hold about 300 personnel, their kit, mess facilities and life support. We could even install extra bays to ensure a bit more comfort or for use as recreation and exercise facilities.
“With well over two thousand tons of cargo space remaining, we could carry most of a heavy tank battalion. More than that since we have a mix of tanks from the light Scorpions to the von Luckners.
Setting down the remote, Kent turned towards Bedford.
“Colonel, both these craft can be repaired and made to fly again. The bad news is that this will be expensive as hell. Not as much as purchasing new vessels, especially the Buccaneer, but this will hurt all the same.”
John Ligny turned to Bedford and added, “To add a bit more to the potential costs, sir. The lead provided to you by Captain Kambanda turned out to be solid. There is damaged Union ‘Mech carrier on Beta Mensae V. Unlike the two dropships here, this one is not a wreck even if it has seen better days. It will need replacement parts and a number of repairs to be fully functional, but she flies and we could probably refit her here at An Ting. Kambanda said he can hold it for a week if we are interested and can afford the price tag.”
Rory Fitzhugh now spoke up.
“Colonel, I’ve been crunching some rough numbers as the discussion went on. We are already looking at a major hit to the accounts this month as we make the final payment for
Black Prince and an even bigger bill in January when
Dauntless arrives. Those two vessels alone will set us back by more than one hundred and twenty million C-Bills.
“Rough numbers for the purchase, transport and repair the Union carrier will exceed thirty-five million, the Buccaneer will cost over two hundred million. If we then add in the damaged Union over on Beta Mensae, we are looking at another sixty million plus repairs, at a minimum.
“I’ll firm up these numbers in a few hours once I talk with Colonel Ligny but this sort of expenditure could deplete perhaps as much as forty percent of the brigade’s funds.”
The implications of the cash outlay for the dropship program were not lost on Richard Bedford and the pensive look on his face was noted by all in the room.
“Thank you, Captain. Please put your head together with Captain Kent and Colonel Ligny and get me the numbers by the close of business today.”
Looking around the room Bedford asked, “Is there anything else to add to today’s discussion?”
“Yes sir,” replied Commander Howe. “If you have time after lunch, Lieutenant-Colonel Valois and I have a proposal we would like to run by you. We’ll need about half an hour.”
“Alright then,” replied Bedford. “Come to my office at 1330 and you can make your pitch.
“Is there anything else? No? Then lets get back to our business for the day, people.”
*****
The two officers who led the brigade’s aerospace forces arrived at Colonel Bedford’s outer office at exactly 1325 hours. Sergeant Burns was at her desk to the left of the door and two meters from the wall. Despite the path being clear to the commander's office no one in the brigade would have been stupid enough to walk past Nicole Burns’ desk without her leave. Rising from her desk the sergeant greeted the two officers.
“Good afternoon, Commander Howe, Colonel Valois. The Colonel is expecting you.”
With that she took two steps to the door and knocked quietly. From behind the door came a muffled command.
“Enter”.
Opening the door and stepping over the threshold Nicole Burns stepped to one side as she announced the arrival of the two visitors.
“Commander Howe and Lieutenant-Colonel Valois to see you, sir.”
“Thank you, Sergeant. Come in gentlemen.”
As the two men entered the room Burns pivoted and backed out of the room closing the door behind her.
Motioning to two chairs in front of his desk, “Richard, Phil, please have a seat. Tell me what’s on your mind.”
Richard Howe looked at the aerospace commander who nodded his agreement to proceed.
“Colonel,” Howe paused for a heartbeat, “how do you feel about a bit of piracy?”
Bedford smiled as he sat back in his chair, “Normally I would frown upon it, Commander, but I suspect you have something a little different in mind than raiding farms and villages.”
“Aye, sir, indeed. What I have in mind is a bit unorthodox considering our current circumstances but it might garner us a bounty worth the risk.
“As you know, the
Black Prince will be arriving in a few days and should join our small fleet by the end of next week. What I have in mind is to group the
Black Prince,
Edward III,
Henry II and
Framlingham Castle together with Thirteen Commando and go on a bit of commerce raiding in nearby Draconis systems.”
Bedford chuckled at the idea, “Go on, Commander.”
“If the Davion intelligence we’ve received is at all accurate with reports of two new commands arriving at Thestria and Igualada earlier this month, then there is a pretty good chance that the support and supply convoys for both commands will be coming and going from both systems. If we could borrow two Merchant class jumpships assigned to us by the Davion navy for some extra curricular activity, we could pop in at the star’s Zenith or the Nadir points and with some luck, bag us some shipping.
“It is unlikely any major naval units will be escorting these convoys as the latest reports have their carriers coreward at Galedon or towards Oshika. These fat turkeys would only have their dropship guns and a few fighters from the jumpships or an escort carrier for protection.”
Bedford pursed his lips as he considered the two men in front of him.
“Tell me, Richard, if you jump away with more than half of our aerospace fighters and all of our carriers, what do we do if Warlord Samsonov decides to pay us a visit while you are gone? We are already pretty thin on the ground here.”
“I would wager, sir, that all eyes on the Draconis side of the line are firmly fixed on Galedon and its nearby systems,” Valois added. “More relevant to our sector, Matsuida has not been attacked. The Combine forces may still be shifting into new positions and that means the shipping lanes will be active.”
Leaning forward, his elbows on his desk, Bedford pressed, “And if you jump into Igualada and find nothing? You are stuck there until the jumpships recharge and you can jump away again. Even a reasonably safe quick-charge would still mean waiting around for three or four days, provided nothing goes wrong.”
“That is true, Colonel,” admitted Howe. “There is a risk but short of jumping into a system at the same time a troop convoy arrives those risks can be mitigated. Davion intelligence should be able to provide us with some information on routine traffic and SOP. If we time the raid right, we may catch any jumpships already partially recharged or with fat cargo dropships just arriving.”
Valois jumped in again, “Sir, the Leopards can carry two squadrons of Major Woodville’s medium and heavy dropship busters. The Union and Intruder would carry another sixteen fighters, fourteen light fighters to tie up any escorts plus a command flight for the medium squadrons. We could commit twenty-eight fighters in all along with the four dropships, strength enough to handle any standard merchant convoy. Major Burgh’s commandos will be there to board and capture a jumpship. Maybe more than one if the opportunity presents itself.”
Holding both hands before him in an effort to quell the two officers enthusiasm Bedford went on, “Gentlemen, I am not opposed to the idea, and I applaud the audacity, but there are too many ifs and too much reliance on chance. The
Black Price won’t arrive in orbit for another week or so, yes?”
Howe nodded his agreement, “Eight, maybe nine days, sir.”
“Good, then. That gives you time to fine tune your plan. Contact the Davion staff and see if you can firm up some details to improve the probability of hitting something more than empty space. Then we’ll talk about this some more.”
Howe’s faced brightened. “We’ll come back to you in a few days, sir. I’ve been in space for twenty years and I believe there are rich targets for the taking out there. Full combat commands need massive amounts of supply and these can only come in via dropships. It’s just a matter of timing.”
“Very good then, Commander. I like the idea of the raid, if only to disrupt supply lines or destroy merchantmen. That said, if you can bring home some prize trophies, so much the better.”
Rising from their chairs the two officers nodded their thanks, came to attention briefly and took their leave of the brigade commander.
*****