such a way that we draw them in. You’ve considered this, I take it?”
“I have, but I don’t have a good solution. Harry already called for 200 of his ships, leaving the rest waiting. If we brought all of them now, we might scare the Rebels into a full retreat, and we don’t want to do that. With the 200 ships, I think the Rebels will believe we’ve called in our reserves, and the numbers are still in their favor. You’ll have to position yourself in such a way that they’ll reinforce where you want them to.”
Chandrajuski looked to M’Coda. “Do you have a suggestion?”
“That will take sitting in front of a display, sir. In concept, I like the suggestion. Perhaps we can hit one area hard, leaving their forces strong elsewhere. The weak area is a likely area for them to reinforce. We’ll work it out.”
Trexler looked to Sam Taylor. “Have you started transferring crews?”
“Not yet. We were just finishing up assignments when I left to come here.”
Trexler turned back to Chandrajuski. “We can do as you suggest, use our 21 fast squadrons to bump them, see if the Chessori are there, or we can just make every one of our squadrons a Terran squadron. From a management standpoint, it would greatly simplify things if every ship was equal. Any squadron could be sent to any target.”
“Are you suggesting we use the 63 slow squadrons? That will take too long.”
“No, sir. Another option exists, but it has calculated risks. Waverly has hundreds of men who can function as gunners. If we abandon the Terran fast fighters, we’d pick up another 250 Terran pilots and a bunch of gunners. We could staff every cruiser we have with Terrans, and there would be enough left over to staff almost 200 of Seeton’s cruisers. Then it wouldn’t matter if they encounter Chessori or not. The whole crew could be in the net. If the Chessori are encountered, the Empire crews drop out. If the Chessori are not encountered, the Terrans drop out. You might even want to beef up the Terran gunners on our cruisers rather than sending them to Harry’s ships. I don’t think any of Harry’s ships are going to encounter Chessori. I think the reinforcements will all be Rebels.”
Chandrajuski looked to M’Coda, who said, “We need to take the time to model it. I like the idea of beefing up the Terran gunners. Right now, each gunner controls an entire battery, far too many guns for one person. What do you think, Admiral Taylor?”
“I’d like to beef up the gunners, and my fighter pilots are up to flying cruisers. In fact, they’d rather be flying cruisers. They don’t like risking their lives for nothing, and with this new strategy of just going after Rebel cruisers, they’re essentially useless. And transportation is not a problem. Each fighter pilot has a ship. He can take his fighter to the planet, load up the Raiders who will stay with him, and go to the cruiser he’s going to fly. The fighter can just stay in the landing bay there. We’re talking, what, maybe a day or two for all of them to complete the transfer? Waverly’s guys are going to be tired, but with a few hours of rest they’ll be ready to go.”
Trexler called over the partition. “Jim, does that work for you?”
“You can have them, but go through Major Wilkes. When he’s done with the city, he’ll have some clean-up to do in other areas. I don’t want any Chessori left alive on the planet.”
Chandrajuski slid the partition aside and looked down on the person in the bed. “Who are you?” he asked.
“Colonel Waverly, sir. You must be Admiral Chandrajuski. A pleasure to meet you.”
Chandrajuski’s mouth opened wide to display his many, many sharp teeth. “The pleasure is mine, Colonel. You’ve done us all a great service. We’ll talk later.”
The discussion became technical, with general assignments, timing and dispositions, and capabilities of certain groups of ships. Trexler stayed silent. Chandrajuski and M’Coda were truly in their element now, and they had become aggressive rather than defensive. They left the room in a group, still in heated discussion, headed for the operations center. It was time now for the displays.
Waverly’s eyes were still closed when he said, “I knew you flyboys had it soft, but running a battle from your bed?”
“Well, you freed a world with a telephone.”
Trexler knew he wasn’t needed at the moment. In fact, he probably wouldn’t be needed any more at all. He went to sleep. When he next awoke, they were taking him out of the tank.
“Sorry, sir,” the nurse said. “Someone else needs this more than you do.”
They encased his foot in a plastic container filled with goo and settled him next to Waverly who was asleep. Trexler, too, went back to sleep. When he next awoke, he was laying on a table with his foot stuck in a box. Waverly was awake beside him, lifted up on one elbow and staring at him. Stevens was beside Waverly with a small bandage on his leg. Walters was beside Stevens, his whole upper body and head encased in bandages. He, too, was looking at Trexler.
“What’s up, guys?”
“Not us, that’s for sure,” Waverly answered. “They worked on your foot last night. I think that table you’re on is portable, so you can get back to work whenever you want.”
“I have to stay on this table? How am I going to work from this thing?”
“I don’t know, sir, but it’s the best they could do. There’s a lot of equipment under the bed that’s tied to the box on your foot.”
“Jeez, it’s just a few toes. I need out of here.”
“I don’t know, Ray. That doctor is one tough lady, and she’s not brooking argument from anyone. I think she’s been up all night.”
“Are they still bringing in wounded?”
“No. I get the feeling we’re nowhere near the planet. If my guys are done, the hospitals on the surface will be back in operation to take care of them.”
“Hmm. Who’s guys are going to get treated first? We need to address this issue before your next fight. Should we try to get you back there?”
“All in good time. I’m not making any waves yet. Your guys have their hands full, and I have some good officers down there to take care of things. I’m not needed at the moment.”
“Nor am I, it seems.”
Waverly smiled. “My guess is that you gave them enough to do the rest.”
“If you think I’m going to let a few toes keep me from my job, think again. They’ve been going for hours, maybe days, without rest. They need relief.”
The doctor showed up, deep lines of strain showing around her eyes. “How do you feel, Admiral?”
“Fine. I need to get out of here.”
“Maybe in a few days. Maybe.”
“What if I just pull my foot out of this thing and leave?”
“You can’t. You’re well secured in there. If we take you out, you’ll lose the pain relief. Trust me, you don’t want to do that.”
“Can I at least get a communicator? I need to check on things.”
“There’s one right there beside your bed. Didn’t you know?” She lifted a communicator from a nearby table and handed it to him.
“How do I reach the operations center?” he asked.
“Just speak into it and ask. It’s connected to the AI.”
He spoke into the unit, and an ensign picked up on the other end. “Admiral Taylor,” Trexler requested.
“He’s busy, sir.”
“I don’t doubt that he is. Would you let him know that Admiral Trexler would like to speak to him when he’s free?”
“Yes, sir. Standby.”
A very tired sounding Sam Taylor came on the line. “Hi, Ray.”
“How’s it going up there?”
“Actually, I’m going off duty for a few hours. Seeton and Brinson are filling in for me. If you’re up to it, I’ll stop by and bring you up to date.”
“I’m up to it.”
