Free A Faded Star by Michael Freeport

the brightest minds the Navy has to
offer, and a marine lieutenant has to point out the data storage module for
you?”
     Kri sputtered, unable to respond. Simmons said, “Well,
ma'am. He is a marine. Situational awareness is his specialty.” She turned and
winked at Kri, who was still regaining his composure.
     Stokes watched the exchange with interest. His
officers were growing increasingly comfortable with each other. The increase in
unit cohesion and morale this implied gave him a sense of satisfaction. He
turned to the young Marine lieutenant. “Mister Aves, do you have any additional
observations?”
     Aves somehow managed to sit at attention. “Sir, the
crabs we encountered aboard the wreck were not as physically imposing. I would
estimate they were something just under three meters tall, not the nearly four
meters we observed in the boarders. They also did not explode upon being
defeated as we previously noted. Although there is insufficient information to
arrive at a solid conclusion, I would tend to suspect the crabs that boarded
the Rampart were either specially trained or bred for the task.”
     Stokes nodded. Aves' reasoning mirrored his own. “Very
good, Lieutenant.” Stokes turned to address his tactical officer. “Mister
Patho, do you have any input?”
     Patho weighed his words carefully. “Sir, if we don't
intend to mount a complete salvage operation of the wreck, I suggest we destroy
the remaining portion. Leaving so much intact invites a number of uncomfortable
possibilities in my mind.”
     ”Such as?” Stokes asked.
     “There may be surviving crew, hiding aboard, waiting
for us to depart or to lower our guard. We don't have a complete tactical
picture of what the ship's combat capabilities truly are.”
     Simmons said, “I doubt they held anything back, sir.
They were fighting for their lives just as hard as we were.”
     Patho nodded. “Possibly. They also may have been
unable to deploy a larger or more powerful weapon. They might have believed
they were able to defeat us. They know as little about us as we do them.
Without a more complete picture of the systems that ship has and considering
the level of violence the crabs have already shown they're willing to employ,
we just can't know if they were holding back or not. The boarding action was
carried out with a precision and lethality that makes me very concerned about
the combat capabilities of these crabs.”
     Stokes nodded. “You make a good point, Mister Patho,
but I believe the risk versus the possibility of increased intelligence on this
race is worth it. Detail a pair of drones to tow the wreck to Lashmere orbit.”
     “Aye, sir,” Patho said.
     “As to everyone else, lend a hand with damage repair,
and prepare to return to Lashmere space dock.”
     Hanlon said, “We have all of the control runs from the
primary ridge bypassed. The backup bridge is fully functional, now.”
     Stokes pondered for a moment and then said, “If there
is nothing else?” He waited for a silent moment. “Very well, then. Carry out
your orders.”
     
     The Rampart, accompanied by the Bastion and the alien
ship, flew back to space dock at sublight speeds. Communications between the
ships had gotten progressively better over the intervening four day sublight
trip back to Lashmere orbit. The pilot, a being named Thun, had reported he was
merely a scout and had run afoul of a pair of hostile destroyers on his way to
the Lashmere system. After confirming no further hostile intentions and, in
fact, no weapons of any kind aboard Thun's tiny scout ship, they escorted him
to Lashmere.
     Lashmere Space Dock engulfed all three vessels easily.
It's massive shipyards and repair facilities developed during the war were now
completely overkill with a peacetime operational load. There had been much talk
of dismantling or at least shutting down the majority of the facility to reduce
budget costs.
     Stokes stood, gazing at the forward display in