by Chris Hechtl
“Did Matilda find out about this?”
“No, I stopped the email from getting to her.”
“Good.” The admiral frowned. “Call a meeting. I want them here, in my office. That includes Matilda.”
“Yes, sir.”
-~~~///^\~~~-
Admiral Irons called a meeting in the White Station of Admiralty. Sprite gleefully sent out the invitations and worked with Protector to rearrange the admiral's schedule.
Once everyone was physically on sight, the room was locked down.
“So, not everything is hunky dory it seems,” Admiral Irons stated once they were all seated.
“Sir?”
“You heard me. We have a problem. It seems I issued orders, and someone went behind my back and countermanded them. The funny thing is: one, I'm the Commander-in-Chief, and two, I'm wondering who would do that and why?”
He surveyed the room. No one volunteered anything. His nostrils flared ever so gently.
“I'll lay it out for you who don't know. Admiral Lemans refused a lawful order and retired. I wanted someone I know will do the job, so I selected someone in-house who can do it and passed out orders for her to be promoted to handle the job. She has after all handled the job well enough before Admiral Lemans came along.”
He could see from their vital signs that some of the Bekians were now decidedly uncomfortable.
“Those orders were countermanded. A new officer was selected from Bek to replace Admiral Lemans. It will be at least six months before he arrives. Meanwhile, the promotion I ordered was denied, and the seat is left vacant,” he indicated the empty seat where the head of BuSchools usually sat.
A few of the eyes cut to that seat and then away. Some stayed woodenly fixed on one position.
“The thing is, did they think I wouldn't notice?” he demanded scathingly. His wrath was like a physical presence in the room.
“Command authorization codes had to have been used. NCIS, JAG,” he nodded to the Delquir TJAG, “and the IG's office is now involved and just starting their investigations.”
“I'm sure it was an error, sir,” Vice Admiral Pashenkov murmured.
The fleet admiral turned on the Neowolf. Some of the discussion had been between the wolf and Bek but not all. The codes had not originated from the wolf; he had most likely given a verbal order or a wink and a nod to someone else, most likely some sacrificial lamb in BUPERS. “I'm sure it was,” he growled. “I promise you I will get to the bottom of this and I will have scalps. The last time I checked I am senior officer, and I am not overruled by someone in Bek or anywhere else!”
More than one person flinched over his inflection.
“If this is a problem, then you need to say so and retire or request relief. I promise it will be acted upon promptly. Ask Admiral Lemans how tired I am of political games and 'scheduling conflicts.' When I issue an order, I damn well expect it to be obeyed, not re-interpreted to suit some cronyism and someone else's agenda.”
A lifetime of service made more than one officer stonily silent.
“With respect, sir, you open yourself up to that charge, sir, by appointing the captain,” Odette stated.
“Bullshit, I chose Matilda because I know her. I know she's damn good at the job, and I know she can get the job done. She has no interest in politics, only in making sure her students and faculty get the job done. More importantly, she's here now and can slip into the job, the very same job she had before, easily enough without a long wait.”
He looked around the room. “I've been made aware of the back scratching and political games going on. I'm already tired of it. It's time to end it.”
He frowned for a long moment. “From now on, all promotion boards, operational orders, and whatever I feel necessary will be handled by someone not from the same star system. Boards will be formed with no more than one Bekian on them. One A.I. is now required to be on every board and if I can swing it, every jury,” he said, looking at the TJAG.
“Officers will be promoted as they should be, by proven merit in the job with combat multipliers. No more of this Academy bullshit. No more being promoted out of the zone because a friend of a friend scratched their back. And when I find out how Captain Doight got slipped on the captain's list, I'm going to have someone's ass.” he growled, eyeing them “I understand several officers are getting dinged because they aren't ring knockers. I'm ending that practice as of now,” he snarled, stabbing a finger into the table top.
“From now on every officer up for promotion to captain's rank or higher gets vetted by my office first. They do not get approved until I say so,” he growled.
Technically, flag officers were supposed to be approved by congress, but he didn't bring up that point at the moment.
“Anyone, anyone of any rank who has a problem following a standing order needs to step up or resign their choice. Spread the word, we're done playing games. I'll personally frag any ass I can if I have to, to make my point.”
It was rare for the admiral to lose his temper, so everyone sat up and took notice. “So, have I made myself clear?” he demanded.
He pinned each of them with a look, starting with Admiral Pashenkov. When the Neowolf nodded and flicked his ears, the admiral growled. “Not good enough. I require a verbal answer.”
“Yes, sir.”
He turned to each. Odette nodded curtly. “Crystal, sir.”
Once he was around the table, he squared his shoulders once more. “Very well.” He turned to Captain Sprite's avatar standing off to one side. “Captain, call her in.”
The door opened, and Matilda came in. She came to attention with her cap tucked under her arm. “Sir, reporting for duty, sir.”
“Captain, I am promoting you to rear admiral. The paperwork will catch up soon,” he said, giving a pointed look to the head of BUPERS. “We can hold a ceremony later. You are now in charge of BuSchools as of this moment. If anyone tries to pull rank on my appointees for a position again, I will can their ass,” he said, turning to the Bekians around the table. “Spread the word. I'm done playing Mister Nice Guy. Pissing matches end when I'm in the room,” he said, tapping his chest.
Yorgi grimaced ever so slightly at the vulgarity in that statement. You could tell how furious the admiral was when he got that low.
“Given the atmosphere in the room, I think we'll take five before continuing the meeting. Be back in five minutes, people,” the admiral stated.
The other officers rose and then left without a word.
He turned to Sprite's avatar. She merely raised an eyebrow at him. “It was a mistake my ass. This is bullshit, and I'm tired of it.”
“I think they got the message, sir.”
“Let's hope so,” the admiral growled.
Chapter 10
New Horizon
Captain Senior Grade Firefly downloaded the new orders and news from the ansible into a ram file and then digested them. The news was mixed; Second and Fifth Fleet had taken Garth. More importantly, they'd taken much of the infrastructure intact.
But the bad news was that Renee had been killed. As an organic would say, that well and truly sucked. He'd lost a friend and colleague, a good one. It hadn't been the first time, nor would it be the last. But it still hurt.
The news about the A.I. requirements were amusing. He might be on the next promotion list to become a flag officer. Technically, he should be frocked to commodore rank already. How was that requirement supposed to work with him? He wasn't certain it had been thought-out fully. Of course the orders were centuries old and had been made in haste during the Xeno war.
He turned from ruminating to the orders. Those were a welcome surprise and tied to the capture of Garth. Garth was only six jumps away, and therefore, the Admiralty had decided that from now on they'd send the prize ships to Garth. There they could be sorted out and the prize crews returned to him to cycle through more ships.
That was good, excellent news. He passed those orders on to his staff and captains
right away.
The other bit of news was a schedule; he was going to have visitors in a few months—also good news and welcome news at that.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Garth
Amadeus was of two minds as the fleet train settled into business in the star system. The two fleet trains had arrived within the same week. Fifth Fleet's was in orbit working on the repairs and resupply as well as the planet. Second Fleet's fleet train was working on gathering up the mess from the battles and then feeding the factory ships to begin building more defenses.
He'd already passed on the order to have half of the weapon platforms and missile pods deployed. But he'd been denied permission to tap into Fifth Fleet's. Apparently, the Admiralty had other plans for them.
No, the big downside of the arrival was the hospital ships. Apparently, he'd put off getting his A.I. activated for too long. Admiral Irons had given firm orders to get it done. He was opting for a dumb A.I. like many of the other flag officers.
While he was under Rear Admiral V'r'z'll would be in temporary command. Once he was up, she would take her turn and then they'd cycle their individual task force commanders.
One other spot of news was that many officers were getting long overdue promotions. He was glad to see that. And his field promotions had been approved. Not without a bit of back biting from the Admiralty and BUPERS, but he didn't care.
It would be another two months before the ansible arrived. Admiral Irons had uploaded plenty of orders for him and his staff to digest. It looked like he was going to be standing on the defense as planned until more warships arrived. They were being followed by convoys. Some of the convoys were departing from Antigua, but there was a series of convoys working between Protodon and Dead Drop. They had orders not to drop the bulk of their material there but instead to move on to Garth.
And, the army's First, the Marine's First, Second, and Fourth Divisions were en route to settle the planets. The army had more in the pipeline. SNHH was being bypassed, but Nuevo Madrid was not. That planet was only a minor thorn in their side though.
All in all things were looking up.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commodore I'r'll was beyond busy. Not only was she tasked with the ship repairs but also the prize ships, the captured space infrastructure, and the ground engineering projects. And, on top of that, the Admiralty wanted her to hit the ground running with the rebuilding of the repair yard.
Delegation was the name of the game but so was proper oversight to make sure everyone was up to the task and on task. Some of her people were noob graduates from the Spacebee program. They seemed ready and eager to go though.
She was amused at the good-natured possessive hints by Rear Admiral V'r'z'll over Stennis. There was no way the admiral could take the ship on. The Nimitz class carrier needed a full refit just to deal with her battle damage properly. She occasionally felt like she was leading the admiral along. But she wouldn't turn down the extra help while she could get it.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commander Briggs nodded politely to the kids at play. It was just a pickup game of soccer, but it said something about them and their parents that they were out in public at all. Good things to him. The navy had just gotten their support ships in, and they'd had additional Marines and MPs to send down to help extend the perimeter and even take another pair of cities. They were working towards territorial zones.
They were also working on getting the people over on their side. Within the safe zones, life was returning to a semblance of normal. It was even getting better than new since the Fed engineers were improving the utilities and buildings as they helped to rebuild. Everyone there knew they were a target and were living in a security zone complete with drones and cameras. But they didn't care if they could put food on the table and their families were safe.
The engineers had started to rebuild public works and businesses, even some apartment complexes with the native construction crews. He had a budget but still hadn't found someone to hand the mess off to so he could focus on the hunt for this General K.
He frowned when Jenny, the young lass he'd hired as an assistant, came to him with a tablet and a problem. The lass was no Marissa, but she was getting better at being his executive assistant. He wiggled his mustache and then looked at the tablet. "They don't like the curriculum?"
"No, sir. The teachers are refusing to teach some of it."
"Then get different ones. They have only problems with history and propaganda?"
"Yes, sir. And some aren't happy about having the Federation flag flown."
"They'll come around in time. I believe we're focusing on the basics though?"
She nodded.
"Then what's the problem; they don't like the parts about Neos?"
She grimaced. "To some it's propaganda."
"Correction, what they were fed was propaganda. We're setting the record straight," he said with a sigh. She flinched. "Don't worry about it, lass; we'll get it sorted out," he said gently, patting her on the arm and then moving to his office.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Rear Admiral Hal Cartwright was quiet as he was escorted into the POW camp. He'd expected to be shipped out right away, but apparently, that hadn't been the case. Not many ships were leaving Garth. They were waiting on shipping. Until then they'd been housed on his former command in a series of cargo holds. Earlier that morning they'd boarded shuttles to be transported to the lunar colony.
He had initially hoped they'd be shipped to the ground where they might be rescued by any Horathians fighting as resistance there. It had been a wild daydream, completely improbable. He'd even toyed with the idea of the enemy using them as bait to draw the Horathians in. Rescue had been a stupid thing to hope for and one dashed when he'd seen their ultimate destination. Apparently, the Feds weren't fools.
Once there they'd been escorted to an obviously new section. Some of the engineers were openly admiring the newly-built facility. He did appreciate the creature comforts, but he'd much rather have a flag deck under his feet.
He wasn't sure why he was still alive. Why any of them were still alive for that matter. Apparently, the enemy saw something of value in them. At least they were different than his people. His would have been getting their sick and twisted jollies from prisoners before killing them or sending them to be slaves or gladiators back home.
He felt a little bit ashamed over that thought.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Admiral V'r'z'll checked on the status of the fleet. Her engineers on Stennis were busy sorting the ship out. The fleet train was making great headway with the ship. She had sent over shipments of parts from her other carriers to help with repairs. It was her hope that possession would mean nine tenths of the law with the Admiralty.
She wasn't happy about the order to get an A.I. She had, however, opted for the minimum, a dumb A.I. As the doctor had explained it, the A.I. would be a fully-awakened sentient being in time. She hadn't been aware that she'd had a limited A.I. within her implants and within her speech centers the entire time. It made her superstitions, and issues with having a full A.I. seem petty.
They didn't even have to put her under the knife since she had a flag officer's full implants. They just needed to finish the download and then give the A.I. time to integrate and build its own neural network. For the first few weeks of its existence, the A.I. would spend time sleeping to integrate new experiences, but since it wasn't a 'smart' A.I., It would be a bit like a new baby but grow far faster than any organic. As a dumb A.I., she had been assured that the maturity level would be even faster. She would be able to use the A.I. as a member of her staff within days of their integration.
She was curious about that. She was curious about how it would make her more efficient and what it could mean to her future career.
-~~~///^\~~~-
General Kissinger shook his head as he read Agent N'gumo's report again. He'd authorized only soft intelligence gathering methods. So far, they were getting int
el, but it was mostly what they already knew.
For instance, the fleet trains had arrived and were busy. The Federation was sending additional convoys and divisions of army and Marines to complete the invasion of the planet. The Feds had announced that on the news.
So, getting it from pillow talk from the sailors just confirmed the propaganda. The girls and boys were establishing links though, so that was a good thing.
One bit of news he hadn't known about were the losses at the H002 jump point. He'd initially been pleased that the Empire had managed to hurt the feds, but when the numbers had come in, he'd been appalled. Forty-seven imperial warships had faced off against thirty-two Fed navy ships. The numbers might be close until you factored in the tonnages involved. The Feds had only eight battle cruisers while the empire had fielded twenty. Yet the Feds, despite being ambushed, had put up such a fight that only one imperial ship, Stennis, had survived to surrender. The fact that nine imperial support ships had managed to escape wasn't much of a consolation prize.
If the Feds could do that with such a small force and with surprise on his people's side, what did it say about future battles when the Feds really got their feet under them?
And, more importantly to him at least, what did it mean for him and his forces on the ground when proper Federation ground forces arrived to dig him out?
Something told him he wasn't going to like the answer to either of those questions.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Captain Ozman nodded to a pair of reservists and retirees. They were hardly what she'd consider frontline troops but that was probably a good thing. No one suspected someone that old could be trouble.
They were gearing up to fight a terrorist guerilla war. Fortunately, food was plentiful, they had no shortage of taps into the Fed's efforts to feed the population. They even had a modest stockpile of food. What they didn't have were uniforms, weapons, and other equipment of war.
