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.He keyed a switch, bringing up the image of Dauntless, and studied it thoroughly.His new command was a four hundred metre long dagger, floating in interplanetary space.Her white hull was covered in weapons and sensor blisters, ready to track and engage the enemy.The years of hard fighting had taught the TFN how to build warships and Dauntless’s designers had taken full advantage of their experience.The next generation of warships would be even tougher.He scowled, remembering some of the debates about the post-war mission of the Federation Navy.Protecting humanity was important, of course, but so was exploration; the politicians, always keen to discover more human-compatible worlds, were already talking about funding new survey missions beyond the former Draconic Empire.And then there was disaster relief, colony support and a hundred other tasks that could only be accomplished by the navy, a navy whose senior officers had grown to adulthood in the fires of a full-scale war.Tact and diplomacy? It hadn't been part of the navy ethos since the Dragons had started mass slaughter of human populations.With the ship at rest, the bridge was almost deserted.Glen couldn’t help feeling a shiver running down his spine as he contemplated the empty consoles.On active service, leaving the bridge unmanned was a court-martial offence; here, it was merely a reflection of just how much there was to do to get Dauntless space-worthy.He activated his implants and linked into the local processors, then examined the starship’s current status.Sandy had, if anything, underestimated the time it would take to get the ship ready to depart.The yard dogs had not done a very good job.“Dauntless is not expendable,” he muttered to himself, in annoyance.“And we need those problems fixed.”It was a recurring problem, which was partly why the decommissioned ships in Luna orbit were being cannibalised for spare parts.The shipyards had known that most of the starships they produced at the height of the war wouldn't survive for longer than a few months, so they hadn't bothered to build a long lifespan into their products.It had been a desperation measure, a solution that had produced hundreds of problems in its own right, but it was no longer necessary.Seeing the habit continue in peacetime was worrying.It put lives at risk as well as the Navy’s budget.He downloaded the yard manager’s contact details, then skimmed through his file.There were connections to Knight Corporation, he saw; not enough to be decisive, but enough to ensure that the manager would listen when he spoke.The connections that had placed him in a compromised position might as well come in handy, he told himself as he stood and headed towards his office.If he could bully the yard manager into sending additional crewmen to Dauntless, they could be ready to depart on schedule.And it would take some of the pressure off his crew.The Captain’s office was bare; there had been no time to unpack his bags and set up the traditional ‘I Love Me’ wall.It was generally considered a bad sign not to have a display of one’s own medals; it implied that one had no medals.But Glen knew that it was very much a low priority at the moment.He could pin his awards to the wall later, once he had some spare time.And the crew knew him a little better.He sat down behind the desk and activated the terminal.One advantage of being a Captain, he’d already discovered, was that he had priority codes to call almost anyone, at least in the Navy.It didn't matter if the manager had his terminal switched on or off; the local datanet would still page him, insisting that he take the call.Glen smiled as the man’s face appeared on the screen.Clearly, he’d been in his office or somewhere else he could answer immediately.“Good afternoon,” he said, briskly.“My ship requires additional workmen.”In the end, he was almost disappointed by how easy it was.A mention of the Knight connection, a hint that there might be more work in the future – or less work, if they displeased him – and the manager started to make arrangements to ship more of his workmen over to Dauntless.Glen rolled his eyes as the connection broke, wondering just who in the Navy had decided to outsource starship repair and maintenance to civilian crews.The Navy wasn't that strapped for cash.Shaking his head, he called up a series of personnel files and started to read through them.Lieutenant Commander Nathan Cooke, tactical officer, had a long string of commendations, matched by an equally long string of demerits and reprimands for speaking out of turn.He was a superb tactical officer, everyone agreed, but it was unlikely that he would ever see promotion again.Indeed, it was questionable why he’d even chosen to remain in the service.A mercenary group would hire him the moment he resigned, if he approached the right people.Maybe he was just loyal, Glen decided.God knew Glen never wanted to leave the service.Lieutenant Helena Li, helmswoman, had shown a talent for both flying through normal space and navigating hyperspace at a very young age, hence her streamlining into advanced navigational courses at Luna Academy.Once she'd graduated, she’d helped chart the hyper-routes leading into the Draconic Empire, laying the groundwork for the eventual invasion of their home system and the Battle of Sphere Prime.Her assignment to Dauntless made sense; the far reaches of the Fairfax Cluster had never been properly charted and the hyperspace monitoring service had no stations there.She might make the difference between life and death if Dauntless was caught up in a storm.Lieutenant Commander Douglas Stocker, Chief Engineer, was.His thoughts were interrupted by a chime from his terminal.“Captain, the Intelligence Officer assigned to Dauntless has just come onboard,” Sandy’s voice said.“She requests to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”Glen scowled.Intelligence Officers, in his experience, were pains in the ass.Maybe there was a decent one out there, but the ones he’d met kept claiming to know everything even when it was clear that their intelligence had been badly faulty.Inserting spies into Dragon-held territory had been tricky, to say the least.The handful of Dragons they’d managed to turn into spies hadn't been able to report much back before they’d been detected by their fellows [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
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.He keyed a switch, bringing up the image of Dauntless, and studied it thoroughly.His new command was a four hundred metre long dagger, floating in interplanetary space.Her white hull was covered in weapons and sensor blisters, ready to track and engage the enemy.The years of hard fighting had taught the TFN how to build warships and Dauntless’s designers had taken full advantage of their experience.The next generation of warships would be even tougher.He scowled, remembering some of the debates about the post-war mission of the Federation Navy.Protecting humanity was important, of course, but so was exploration; the politicians, always keen to discover more human-compatible worlds, were already talking about funding new survey missions beyond the former Draconic Empire.And then there was disaster relief, colony support and a hundred other tasks that could only be accomplished by the navy, a navy whose senior officers had grown to adulthood in the fires of a full-scale war.Tact and diplomacy? It hadn't been part of the navy ethos since the Dragons had started mass slaughter of human populations.With the ship at rest, the bridge was almost deserted.Glen couldn’t help feeling a shiver running down his spine as he contemplated the empty consoles.On active service, leaving the bridge unmanned was a court-martial offence; here, it was merely a reflection of just how much there was to do to get Dauntless space-worthy.He activated his implants and linked into the local processors, then examined the starship’s current status.Sandy had, if anything, underestimated the time it would take to get the ship ready to depart.The yard dogs had not done a very good job.“Dauntless is not expendable,” he muttered to himself, in annoyance.“And we need those problems fixed.”It was a recurring problem, which was partly why the decommissioned ships in Luna orbit were being cannibalised for spare parts.The shipyards had known that most of the starships they produced at the height of the war wouldn't survive for longer than a few months, so they hadn't bothered to build a long lifespan into their products.It had been a desperation measure, a solution that had produced hundreds of problems in its own right, but it was no longer necessary.Seeing the habit continue in peacetime was worrying.It put lives at risk as well as the Navy’s budget.He downloaded the yard manager’s contact details, then skimmed through his file.There were connections to Knight Corporation, he saw; not enough to be decisive, but enough to ensure that the manager would listen when he spoke.The connections that had placed him in a compromised position might as well come in handy, he told himself as he stood and headed towards his office.If he could bully the yard manager into sending additional crewmen to Dauntless, they could be ready to depart on schedule.And it would take some of the pressure off his crew.The Captain’s office was bare; there had been no time to unpack his bags and set up the traditional ‘I Love Me’ wall.It was generally considered a bad sign not to have a display of one’s own medals; it implied that one had no medals.But Glen knew that it was very much a low priority at the moment.He could pin his awards to the wall later, once he had some spare time.And the crew knew him a little better.He sat down behind the desk and activated the terminal.One advantage of being a Captain, he’d already discovered, was that he had priority codes to call almost anyone, at least in the Navy.It didn't matter if the manager had his terminal switched on or off; the local datanet would still page him, insisting that he take the call.Glen smiled as the man’s face appeared on the screen.Clearly, he’d been in his office or somewhere else he could answer immediately.“Good afternoon,” he said, briskly.“My ship requires additional workmen.”In the end, he was almost disappointed by how easy it was.A mention of the Knight connection, a hint that there might be more work in the future – or less work, if they displeased him – and the manager started to make arrangements to ship more of his workmen over to Dauntless.Glen rolled his eyes as the connection broke, wondering just who in the Navy had decided to outsource starship repair and maintenance to civilian crews.The Navy wasn't that strapped for cash.Shaking his head, he called up a series of personnel files and started to read through them.Lieutenant Commander Nathan Cooke, tactical officer, had a long string of commendations, matched by an equally long string of demerits and reprimands for speaking out of turn.He was a superb tactical officer, everyone agreed, but it was unlikely that he would ever see promotion again.Indeed, it was questionable why he’d even chosen to remain in the service.A mercenary group would hire him the moment he resigned, if he approached the right people.Maybe he was just loyal, Glen decided.God knew Glen never wanted to leave the service.Lieutenant Helena Li, helmswoman, had shown a talent for both flying through normal space and navigating hyperspace at a very young age, hence her streamlining into advanced navigational courses at Luna Academy.Once she'd graduated, she’d helped chart the hyper-routes leading into the Draconic Empire, laying the groundwork for the eventual invasion of their home system and the Battle of Sphere Prime.Her assignment to Dauntless made sense; the far reaches of the Fairfax Cluster had never been properly charted and the hyperspace monitoring service had no stations there.She might make the difference between life and death if Dauntless was caught up in a storm.Lieutenant Commander Douglas Stocker, Chief Engineer, was.His thoughts were interrupted by a chime from his terminal.“Captain, the Intelligence Officer assigned to Dauntless has just come onboard,” Sandy’s voice said.“She requests to speak with you at your earliest convenience.”Glen scowled.Intelligence Officers, in his experience, were pains in the ass.Maybe there was a decent one out there, but the ones he’d met kept claiming to know everything even when it was clear that their intelligence had been badly faulty.Inserting spies into Dragon-held territory had been tricky, to say the least.The handful of Dragons they’d managed to turn into spies hadn't been able to report much back before they’d been detected by their fellows [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]