Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines

by Chris Hechtl

  He frowned thoughtfully, scratching at his chin. He liked that John had a goatee and wasn't so picky about facial hair. He was tempted to grow a beard or mustache just for the hell of it. He could just imagine Amadeus's reaction, he thought with a small smile.

  "At least we don't have a lot of stuff to do now that the holiday is in full swing, sir," Horatio said.

  Phil nodded. He'd done his services to the Federation on Federation Day and now it was time to kick back and relax. He'd insisted they get together to chat. They rarely got time together to just socialize, to relax and bond on some level. He cleared his throat and tried to think of some small talk. Finally he hit on something. “Think they'll have another race soon?” he asked tentatively.

  “I checked the schedule. I know … oh, you're asking about the navy team?” Horatio asked. The admiral nodded. He grimaced and then shrugged. The navy team was made up of volunteers who donated their time and paychecks to make entries into the world of space racing. They did it on their own time too, though Public Affairs was smoothing the way for them by allowing them so much liberty since they were naturally representing the navy.

  Their last race had been a bit of a disaster. Their pilot was still in the San Diego hospital recovering. She was going to spend some time in rehab. It hadn't been her fault, just bad luck that another racer had clipped her like that. Rubbing was a part of racing, but the unintended side effects were disastrous for many. She was lucky she had survived at all.

  “I think Junior wants to sign up. I've talked him out of it twice, but I know he wants in.”

  “Junior …”

  “Commander Valdez, Sergio,” the captain said helpfully.

  “The fighter jock?” the admiral asked, taking a pull of his beer. He looked around. He liked the barbeque atmosphere. It felt almost like they were groundside. Almost, he thought, looking up to the fake sky.

  “Yeah. He's always wanted to do it. He had a hot streak when he was younger. He tried to juice up the family's tug a few times. The last time he did it, he damn near got killed. He burned her up pretty bad.”

  “I see.” Phil wasn't sure what to say about that. It definitely needed looking into. He didn't like the idea of someone that reckless in charge of his fighters.

  “I helped his dad out a few times. I couldn't do it a lot though; the port admiral was watching through Smithy. So I sent them parts and help on the sly,” the captain explained. He smiled his thanks when a young woman took his empty plate and put it into a garbage robot for disposal, then moved on.

  “Going to get rid of that, sir?” he asked, pointing to the plate.

  “I'm saving it for some pie,” the admiral said, waving a hand over the plate.

  “Ah.” the captain nodded. He could appreciate that; he'd seen some apple pie on the desert table.

  “You knew them all?” Phil asked finally.

  “All?”

  “Thornby, Matilda, Montgomery, the rest,” the admiral asked as he set his beer down.

  Horatio snorted. “I've known all of them since they were in diapers. Some even longer than that,” the captain said. “I guess you could say, yeah. Jersey was one of the few exceptions.”

  “Which was why you called on them for the navy when the time came?” It was also why Horatio had turned a blind eye to their mistakes, he thought privately.

  “No,” the captain said, shaking his head. “They all stepped up. Monty was a bit reluctant to take an officer's position, but he did it anyway.” He smiled at the sky. “I used to tell them stories you see. Stories of our time. Of what the Federation had been like. They loved it. And Harris and Shelby started in with that tactical club,” he said shaking his head.

  “Tactical club. So the pieces were all there for John to pick up when he needed it?” Phil asked.

  Horatio nodded. “Pretty much. They were all excited about it. To some it seemed like a game. Jersey knew better; he had known war when he was younger. He has the scars to prove it. Valenko too,” he said, saluting the bear with his beer. The bear nodded sagely back. “But others were just caught up in the moment.” He took a swig of beer and then swished the bottle. “I do owe you a bit of an apology.”

  “Oh?”

  “I … I've been coasting from time to time. I know that. I did when John left. I was lost. I mean we were doing so well and then bam!” He shook his head. “Back to square one. Well, almost.”

  “And?” The admiral asked. “What does this have to do with me?”

  “When I heard you were coming here, I resented the hell out of it. I know I've been a stick in the mud; I've had my hands off. You've slapped my hands anyway, even when I did try to help,” he said.

  The admiral grunted. He was a bit embarrassed about that. Horatio had been trying to help, and sometimes he'd been acting as he should to get the problem fixed before the admiral had to step in to deal with it.

  “I … resented being demoted. You see, I finally felt like I'd grown into the role. That I finally belonged. And then …”

  “To have the rug pulled out from under you. Yeah, I get it,” the admiral said. He finished off his beer and then held it up. A waitress saw the motion and came over with a fresh one.

  “Glad I'm not driving,” the admiral said with a grin as he took a pull. “For my part, I admit I wasn't thrilled about having you. Having a jumped-up yeoman in a captain's hat.” he said.

  “Thanks.”

  “But I admit, you haven't done half bad,” he grudgingly admitted. “You could have done better, but you didn't have the training I had. You've made mistakes, but you've owned up for them. You were too conservative though.”

  “Yes.”

  “But you were making bricks without straw. I get that now. Building the military up from scratch,” the admiral said, shaking his head. “I just wish I could fill your shoes as easily as I thought I could,” he admitted darkly. “It's harder than I thought.”

  “Pretty much. As I said, the raw material was there, you just needed to know how to handle it. Now me, I've been here over a century. They know and respect me. I'm not an outsider lording it over them. I'm one of them telling them how it is, how it has to be. I do admit I've also handled the politics badly.” He grimaced. “Like John, I've tried to take a hands-off approach.”

  “As you should,” the admiral replied, saluting him with his bottle. “You did what you could with what you had. John left you in a lurch like that. He should have known better.”

  “True. I can't blame him though, sir,” Horatio said. “I'm not happy about it. But it's over and done with now.”

  “Yes it is.”

  “Can we work together now?” Horatio asked. “Partners?”

  The admiral eyed him and then stuck his hand out. “Not partners, we're not equals captain, at least not yet. But we're professionals. The enemy is out there,” he said, using the bottle to indicate the outside. “It's time we both remembered that,” he said gruffly.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Good. But if I ever catch you slacking again ….”

  “You'll kick my ass?” Horatio asked with a half-smile.

  “That'll be the least of your problems. But not today. Today we're going to enjoy the time off.”

  “It's been a while, sir,” Horatio admitted. He'd been surprised he had been invited.”

  “I know. I checked. You are worse than Saul. But I want you to take some time off from time to time. Just don't get as bad as Decius,” he stated dryly.

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Good. Now, racing I know about, but what's this I hear about a request for a sports team?” the admiral asked.

  “Well, there are some sports groups that have been around for a while,” Horatio admitted slowly. “Mostly pickup games in the colonies, but they've started a lively competition. And since we have the ansible, they want to transmit the games. We're not up to broadcasts of course, but ….”

  ---<>---<>---

  Wraith copy X49 noted the target's departure wit
h annoyance. It had a perfect hiding spot within the liner. It was within the Pyrax system so it could monitor the progress of the enemy. But its core had put a priority on reestablishing it's changeling in order to maintain its cover.

  X49 had found the perfect target in a human commander who had briefly visited. But no matter how often it had tried to subtly direct the human's attention to an area where it could infect him, it had failed. It could only do so from a nanite production center; one of the replicators the enemy had created. The machines had put a stranglehold on their tech bas, one that X49's creators had no doubt exploited during the war.

  But for the clone it was a problem; it meant it could only infect sources close to those machines. And it had to be careful about how many it did infect; the enemy was ever watchful.

  X49 calculated the odds of infecting an organic in the military as suboptimal unless the risk was worth the reward. But perhaps it should start with a lower life form? It found a target worth further investigation when it noted the passenger manifest of the next “cruise.” Perhaps an “enlisted” would have less defenses? It would have to explore that carefully.

  ---<>---<>---

  “Getting lonely, sir?” Lieutenant Lavot teased, eying the grizzly.

  Captain Valenko snorted. From a bear it was quite impressive. “Why do you say that?”

  “Aren't all your old cohorts getting into mischief elsewhere now?” Jeremy asked from the shuttle seat next to him.

  “Pretty much,” the bear replied. He shrugged. He knew Hurranna and Deja were having the time of their lives on Kittyhawk. Sergei was supposedly in Agnosta. The rest were with him or scattered to the winds like Jethro.

  “Well, I think we've got this JAG case wrapped up. You signed off on the plea, and the Admiral shouldn't have a problem. At least I hope not,” Jeremy said, waving the tablet he'd had on his knees. Getting Fortress Two sorted out had been a pain, but it had been necessary. The accusations of smuggling had been unfounded, but they had found evidence of insubordination in the corporal's attitude towards the lieutenant commander as well as to their own investigation. His surly attitude had poisoned the air in the fortress and had undermined the commander's authority. It was enough to bust the corporal down to lance corporal and then transfer him with a hard warning to clean up his act.

  “Never underestimate a hard nose by the book personality, Lieutenant. Some like to make an example of people to scare everyone else straight.”

  “True,” Jeremy replied with a grimace. “Well, it's going to get even lonelier here soon enough.”

  “Oh?” The bear turned to look at the human.

  Jeremy shrugged under that mild brown-eyed gaze. “Yeah, I've been transferred to Antigua. I'm supposed to do a stint in Agnosta and take a quick look at stuff in Triang, but I bet I'll be busting my ass in Antigua. I heard they are still putting the pieces of things together there—all while trying to make things work.” He grimaced.

  “Joy.”

  “Well, it could be worse,” the human said with a wry grin. “I could be twiddling my thumbs on a ship right about now. Trying to do paperwork and stuff while investigating petty theft or chasing the crew as they play hide the still,” he joked.

  “True,” the bear rumbled.

  “What are you going to do?”

  “Do? I don't know,” the bear admitted. “My duty of course.”

  “Yeah but …,” the human hesitated. He'd heard Valenko had been tapped by many of the Neos left in the star system as some sort of guide. He had tried to help, but he couldn't and wouldn't divide his loyalties or take too much attention away from his duties as the senior marine in the star system.

  “I know they want me to quit—to run for office or something,” the bear said with a snort. He shook his massive head. “Not happening.”

  “Ah. I see.”

  “You can take the bear out of the corps over his dead body. And there are going to be a lot of dead bodies to go right along with his,” the bear said with a shrug. “I think I've got things sorted out. They are at least keeping their heads down and have restored their honor and mindsets. We'll see if it keeps and for how long.”

  “Ah.”

  “I'd like my own platoon not …,” the bear waved a hand paw. “This,” he said in disgust. There were detachments in the annex, San Diego, the starships, and the orbital fortresses, plus midshipmen going to school at the Anvil College. He had been used to dealing with a squad or small group; this was too much of a hassle. He spent more than half his time doing paperwork or in transit. He knew he was getting soft and flabby.

  “When you pass through Agnosta, put a good word in for me with Colonel Forth please. I need to get out of here before I go so stale I blow away,” the bear said.

  “I will,” the lieutenant replied with a nod of understanding. “I'll be seeing you when I see you I suppose.”

  “I hope not.” Jeremy looked hurt briefly. “If I do that means someone somewhere seriously fracked up.” the human snorted. “Cleaning up Jethro's mess was bad enough,” he said, shaking his head.

  The lieutenant rolled his eyes in agreement. The investigations in that incident were still ongoing. Agent Sekim was handling it since there were classified elements in the mix.

  “Good luck, sir,” Jeremy said. He saluted the bear. The bear sketched a return salute.

  “Don't let your ass hit you on the way out, Lieutenant,” the bear grumbled softly as the human left.

  ---<>---<>---

  Sergio Valdez grinned as he practically strutted to his family's sector. They had half a sector of Anvil, way beyond anything they had had before. Over two hundred people worked for his father, something he was proud of. He grinned at his aunt and mom when they saw him.

  “Junior!” Mamma said with a happy smile. He stopped and pointed to his new rank tabs. “What?” she asked, cocking her head and frowning.

  “You got promoted?” his aunt demanded, voice rising in surprise.

  “To commander. I think they had to. I'm the senior fighter pilot after all; it was only a matter of time. Admiral Irons sent me his approval,” he said. Both women gaped at him. He smiled. “I guess I'm moving up in the world,” he said with a shrug and wider grin as the two women engulfed him in a hug.

  “Come on. You're just in time for dinner,” his mother said, looking up to him. Her left hand reached up to brush his short hair. He couldn't help but chuckle at that familiar gesture. “You need feeding up, boy; you haven't been coming around often enough,” she said. He sniffed; he could smell her enchiladas from the entrance. He tucked her under his arm as they walked inside.

  Chapter 25

  Amadeus felt a profound sense of relief when he got the report that Admiral Halsey and the Arboth class Osborne arrived leading a small convoy. The ships held some reinforcements for the marines as well as new much anticipated assault craft.

  He was more interested in the warships, however. He ordered Jojo to oversee the unloading of the convoy. She grinned and took charge of that while he greeted Captain Vargess and newly promoted Lieutenant Commander Meia. The young woman had been recently promoted to lead the fighter wing as their CAG.

  He couldn't help but smile as the two officers came over on a shuttle when the carrier made orbit. “Damn good to see you both,” Amadeus said, exchanging salutes and then shaking their hands.

  “It's good to be back, Admiral,” Meia said softly.

  “I'm glad to have you back, Commander. You've been missed.”

  “Yes, sir. I've been working on a plan to shuttle the fighters that we can't hold through Halsey. But the problem is we'll run short on fuel and supplies quickly. I'm not sure what to do about it however,” she said immediately.

  Amadeus blinked in surprise and then looked to Vargess. The human chuckled. “She's been on that since we left Antigua, sir.”

  “Ah. Well, unfortunately I didn't come up through carrier ops so I'm not sure how to handle it,” the admiral admitted. “So we'll be breaking ground ag
ain together.”

  “Aye, sir,” Meia said, clearly a little nettled.

  “According to the manifests of the two colliers you escorted in, one has a half a load of munitions and parts for the fighter wings.”

  “Which won't last long, sir, if we have a big furball,” Meia said. “I've got two squadrons of Cobra fighters, a half squadron of bombers, and a half squadron of support craft. But you've got six squadrons of Cobras here in the system.”

  “I know. The good news is the Cobras won't be used as anti-shipping, at least not most of them,” the admiral replied, indicating they should follow them. “We'll leave that to the bombers and say … one squadron of fighters?”

  “I'm still working that out, sir,” Meia said with a cautious nod. She'd had one squadron training on anti-shipping strikes before she'd left for Antigua. “I've seen the bombers; they are better at it. They are designed for it.”

  “But the marines may need them for the ground ops too,” Captain Vargess said as they walked.

  The Neochimp looked over his shoulder to the captain. He shrugged at the admiral's expression. “It's a thought. I know the major might put a call in on occasion.”

  “You know Pendeckle?” the admiral asked. He liked the marine; the guy had no problem getting his hands dirty. He had a bit of an issue managing his forces though. He was light on officers he thought. At least he'd returned the marine complements to their ships he thought.

  “I've known him, sir. Not well,” Vargess admitted. “The assault craft he's getting should go a long ways to help him out. But they only have a light ordinance package. I'm betting they will shoot themselves dry within a week or less,” he said.