Auberon (The Jessica Keller Chronicles Book 1) Read Free Page B

Loncar place you, at the start of the attack?”
    She couldn’t keep the sneer out of her voice this time, so she didn’t try. “ Vigilant probably would have required a week in drydock,” she said harshly. “ Rubicon less than that. My ship, Brightoak, perhaps nine to twelve days because we would have been the tip of the spear. As usual. Instead, Brightoak will be six to eight months having her nose rebuilt. Rubicon just flew again after five weeks. Vigilant might have to go to the wrecker, depending on how she’s surveyed.”
    Jessica hadn’t thought she could surprise her old tactics instructor twice in one meeting. It was one of those days.
    Her anger felt hot and sudden in her belly, far more so that just facing a Court Martial.
    “What makes you so sure, Jessica?” he asked quietly.
    She took a deep breath to control her emotions, almost ashamed of him seeing her like this. Eighteen years seemed to slip away.
    “Because it is standard Imperial flight technique, sir,” she spit out, biting each word as it passed. “They would have flown into a wall of missiles, and then been trapped above us in the gravity well, trying to climb out of reach while we shot the hell out of them from below and two cruisers sat above and fired down on them. I believe your term, once upon a time, was mousetrap.”
    He smiled at her. “Okay, Provisional–Cornet Keller,” he said, also falling back eighteen years, “how would you have handled the Order of Battle and why? Please show your work.”
    Jessica let go of a breathe she had not realized she was holding. The stress and heat seemed to flow out of her fingertips and ground into the cool wood of the desk. She smiled warmly for the first time today.
    “I would have sent both wings of fighters under the southern pole hot and fast, with the destroyers right behind them, then the battlecruiser followed by the Fleet Carriers, with the two light cruisers in the rear providing flanking protection.”
    The First Lord cocked his head at her in wonder. “And what are the probabilities, cadet?”
    She ticked them off on the desk with one hand. “First. If the patrol fighters are paying attention and are any good, they see us as soon as we clear the horizon, panic, and emergency scramble the wing. Considering that they had a supply tug modified to hold fighters and an older escort carrier, they can probably get ten fighters up by the time we arrive, so five to one odds, plus their carrier is outgunned by a factor of about fifty to one. Maybe they fight, maybe they strike. Depends on how stupid or crazy their commanding officer is.”
    “Second,” she continued, tapping the desk in rhythm with her words. “They are not looking down like they should, and we get on top of them before they can do anything. Two patrol fighters facing fifty–four armed opponents, plus an enemy fleet, point blank. They strike immediately. We put crews aboard the Imperial vessels, ignore Iger completely, and fly home like rich pirates, laughing at them. Major tactical victory for us, possibly a significant strategic win across the entire sector, considering the loss of material resources on their side that have to then be replaced. They go on the defensive for at least a year.”
    He leaned back and watched her as she spoke.
    Jessica blinked as she fell silent. It felt like squadron command school all over again. One of the Noble Lords would have probably just failed her out of his class for such reckless audacity.
    Nils Kasum was a Fighting Lord. Had been one of the best of them.
    “Very well analyzed, Cadet,” he smiled at her. “When the fleet returned home, I had a group of friends game out the scenario at Iger over a case of wine. Most came to the same consensus you did. Two of them would have gone on and attacked Iger anyway.”
    Jessica pursed her lips, but refrained from commenting.
    Kasum noticed and stopped.
    “You disapprove, Jessica,” he asked honestly. “You? One of my most aggressive