The Last Charge (The Nameless War Trilogy Book 3) by Edmond Barrett Page A

had left, he approached the Admiral. Lewis remained seated as he organised his papers.
    “Commodore Crowe,” he said calmly as he looked up. “Is there a reason you are still here?”
    “Yes, sir,” Crowe replied, “my ship, again? ”
    “Yes, Commodore. Have you a good reason why I should not assign Deimos to this?”
    “Because we covered the retreat from Junction Station. Before that we were in Kite String and before that we barely made it out of Baden.”
    “You feel you’ve done enough?” Lewis replied in a dangerously calm voice.
    “My crew are tired, my ship is wearing out and now…”
    “And now, Commodore, you have been given your orders,” Lewis replied coldly before he glanced back at his Chief of Staff.
    “Captain,” he prompted.
    “Yes, sir,” Sheehan replied before leaving the room.
    “I am aware of Deimos ’s war record, Commodore,” Lewis continued as the hatch closed, “just as I am aware of yours. I have a lot of respect for your efforts from the Mississippi Incident to the present, which is a large part of the reason I am tolerating this conversation. No one will get a chance to sit this one out Commodore. You know that as well as I do.”
    Crowe changed tack.
    “Sir, my ship badly needs a complete overhaul,” he said. “Another ship another Luna class…”
    “A marginally more relevant factor,” Lewis interrupted. “But the fact that Deimos has seen hard use is not a negative point. It’s one that made the choice simpler.”
    “My ship was chosen because it is expendable,” Crowe said in a hollow voice.
    “All warships are expendable to some degree,” Lewis corrected. “Even if the Fast Division gets into position, even if it achieves what we hope it can, there is no guarantee that the ships of the division that survive will be fit for further service. Your ship was chosen because the Luna class as a whole have been hard used. Deimos may not be fit for further service no matter what position I place her in, so I must instead make best use of her now.”
    “You’re thinking of the next battle,” Crowe said. “The one after this.”
    “Yes,” Lewis replied simply. “A victory here merely staves off defeat. It doesn’t win the war. And win the war is what we have to do.”
    For a moment Crowe saw through the facade of command, seeing not the cold blooded, uncaring officer he was familiar with. Not the one who had thrown men and women into the furnace of battle without hesitation, but the man behind the uniform. Old, tired, determined and yet desperately afraid that nothing he could do would be enough. This plan, this insane plan to land starships, was the product of a man who, if not grasping at straws, was getting close to it. 
    “Desperate times, Commodore,” Lewis said quietly. “If the price of getting the Home and Second Fleets into gun range is the loss of Warspite , Deimos and a half dozen first class cruisers, then that price is acceptable. If you have no further questions, Commodore, then you are dismissed.”
    In the last sentence the Admiral’s tone changed. It regained its certainty and Crowe knew that he had reached the end of the old man’s tolerance.
     
    By the time he got back to the Gemini platform, dockworkers were already crawling all over the outer hull of Deimos , closely watched from one of the observation platforms by the cruiser’s deeply suspicious chief engineer.
    “Sir,” he said as Crowe approached, “some kind of work has started on the ship, but I’ve not been informed of the details, which is completely in breach of regs.”
    “And subject to the orders they’ve received from Headquarters,” Crowe replied, as he pushed himself down until his boot magnets locked onto the floor. “Is anyone else off the ship?”
    “No. A staff officer turned up just after you left with orders for all personnel to remain on board. I’ve only got this far because the Commander argued that I need to be aware of what changes are being made