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Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3)

Page 12

by Chris Hechtl


  “Why?” Bengali asked.

  “We don't want to get people's hopes up, and we don't want them to be a target,” Sprite instantly answered.

  “Oh.”

  “Giving the doctors and those involved the chance to work quietly in peace takes the pressure off,” Admiral Irons stated. He held up a hand when he realized the Veraxin treasurer was about to object. “Yes, that is a good and bad thing. People sometimes work better with a deadline. But some things can't be rushed. Only heartache can happen if we push them too far too fast.”

  “I understand and concur. We don't want to get people's hopes up only to dash them. And it wouldn't look good for the administration,” the Veraxin stated.

  “No, no it wouldn't,” Sprite stated. “New construction,” she stated, looking significantly at the admiral.

  “And now we all know who's really calling the shots,” Admiral Irons quipped with a smile. That earned a brief chuckle. When it ended he flipped his tablet to that section. He glanced at it then nodded. “New construction is in three parts—civilian, military, and infrastructure—though we have subcategories for Bek since they are out of contact.”

  “True. For now,” Admiral Sienkov stated.

  “I was wondering if Bek has laid its first hyper-capable warship yet or commerce ship?” Captain Broken Antenna asked, looking directly at the intelligence minister.

  “Your guess is as good as mine, ma'am. I'm here not there. I know Admiral Irons,” he nodded politely to the fellow flag officer, “sent samples and materials to help us upgrade. How far along that project is, I don't know at this point. I guess you could say it depends on how much our people grasped the concepts and how much political support or problems came into play,” he said, glancing at Moira.

  “And that means?” George Custard asked.

  “He means not everyone in Bek was happy about being found. And there are some factions in the government who want us, excuse me,” Moira coughed into her hand. “Um, I meant Bek to remain isolated.”

  “Isolationists,” Sprite stated.

  “Horatio is going to have his work cut out for him then,” the admiral stated. He waved a hand. “Back to the subject,” he said when Protector blinked his clock on his HUD at him to get his attention, “before Protector and Sprite blow a gasket and our various staffs storm in gnashing their teeth over our screwing up their carefully crafted plans for the day,” he said with a grin. Sprite rolled her eyes. “Infrastructure is up to Sandra'kall as you know,” he said. “As far as civilian ships, I understand it is currently saturated, but a new collective is trying to get off the ground in Pyrax,” he said looking questioningly to the Centaurian. She nodded her massive head. “Okay. So, naval construction is on track here in Antigua and Pyrax. We've made good the damage to Bismark …”

  “Anything more on the investigation there?” Mister Custard asked, looking at Admiral Sienkov.

  “No.” the admiral stated.

  “Damn,” George replied.

  “Um, anyway,” the admiral said pointedly. “As I was saying, Bismark is out undergoing her builder's trials again. Her delay allowed her sister ship, Quirine, and division mate to catch up to her. Her commissioning ceremony will be in a month.”

  “A month?” George Custard asked, blinking in astonishment. “How astonishing!”

  “Yes, five weeks actually. The twentieth I think,” the admiral said glancing at Sprite. She nodded. “Sindri and his people pulled out all the stops. He's switched the capital ship line over to SDs now, super dreadnaughts,” he said by way of explanation to Bengali. The Neocat flicked his ears in acknowledgement.

  “Which are prohibitively expensive,” T'rel'n complained.

  “Heh. Wait until you see the cost of battle moons and battle planets,” Sprite teased.

  “Please spare me,” the Veraxin said warily.

  “I don't think we'll go there. Not hyperflight capable ones at any rate. For the moment we'll stick to the ones we currently have,” Admiral Irons stated.

  “So, not much change there,” Moira stated. “While you pointed that out, a thought occurred to me. I'm concerned about the stasis pod plan. The liner plan as well I suppose, but I keep getting the whole eggs in one basket feeling,” she said. “What happens if we lose a ship?”

  The admiral grimaced as he changed mental tracks. “Any ship with that number of people on it … you have to take every precaution. There is a lot of investment in it. The loss of life would be horrible as well.”

  “True. Loosing ten or more thousand people would be hell. Trained personnel …,” Admiral Sienkov said soberly.

  “We have to proceed cautiously and not let our eagerness get the better of ourselves and the helm team. They need to learn to handle it. The good news is, every time they transit we learn a little more about what they are up against and what they can handle. But we can't send them in and expect them to set speed records either.”

  “True.” Broken Antenna said. “My implants are pinging,” she said apologetically.

  “We're just about done here. I think we can table the rest for next week?” the admiral asked as he rose to his feet. The cabinet secretaries nodded or signaled assent as they too rose. “Fine then. Have a good afternoon everyone,” he said with a nod.

  :::{)(}:::

  Moira didn't have a lot of time to digest how the cabinet meeting had gone. She was still adjusting to her new role, and her growing staff took charge of her the moment the meeting ended. She noted the auburn-haired Blake Bergen aka BB, her personal assistant, waiting for her with her security detail. They immediately fell in line with her as she walked to the lift. “Ma'am, we have a working lunch planned and then you have more in briefs. And I understand you've lined up additional sleep teaching to get yourself caught up on the agenda and various roles you have to fill, so I've blocked time for you to cut out early to get some sleep.”

  “I don't know if that's needed,” Moira stated.

  “Trust me, ma'am, as someone speaking from experience it is. Sleep teaching can be like trying to read a massive novel all at once.”

  “I see,” the secretary said. She glanced at her personal secretary. Assistant, she reminded herself. BB was a good man, a bit stiff and wimpy, but he got the job done. At least he had so far. And he was easy on the eyes. Pity the man was gay.

  “You've got various appointments throughout the afternoon, ma'am—two of them after lunch. Security also wants a word, and I know you want to talk to the senior staff about your first state visit. You aren't considering something as dangerous as Briev are you?”

  Moira slowed her stride, cocked her head, and thought hard. The name didn't make sense. Finally, she heaved a sigh. “Remind me again, Briev?” She glanced at BB in inquiry.

  If her assistant was annoyed with her memory, he didn't show it. “Briev is a star system. Monarchy, hostile to the federation and currently interdicted. They are allied with the Horathian Empire and have,” he wrinkled his nose in distaste. “apparently engaged in some genocidal practices over the past two century's ma'am. They are the closest headache star system we've got.”

  “Briev … didn't we pass through that star system on the way here?” Moira demanded.

  “Yes, ma'am. You did indeed,” the assistant said, bobbing a nod.

  “Oh okay. Well, I'll need a brief on them. More information than that of course, including a thumbnail history and the players. Emphasis on any interactions with the federation. Have we sent envoys to negotiate with them?”

  “No, ma'am.”

  “Okay. Who's number two?”

  Her assistant looked nonplused then glanced at his tablet. “Um, Avalon, Requiem, and Protodon are still on the fence and need more diplomatic work. But if you are talking about major headaches outside our reach, that would most likely be New Dublin. We have a ship out to visit them. If you are talking about problem star systems who have already joined, that would be ET, Halced 6, and Airea 3, ma'am, though New Texas has been playing a lot of annoy
ing games lately.”

  “Lovely,” the new secretary of state sighed.

  “I can have Miss Neuwirth give you a more in-depth brief. I believe she was planning one for later today or tomorrow. I don't think we know which way you wanted to jump, ma'am, in sector, in the half not connected yet, or in one of the neighboring sectors,” he said dubiously. “Strategy was up in the air so Mister Whitman has only performed minor outline work on plans until you indicate where you want to start.”

  Moira frowned for a moment. She ran the names through her implants and got a hit, Neuwirth was Nadine Neuwirth, her chief of staff. Whitman was Sebastian Whitman her policy advisor. She frowned thoughtfully as they loaded in the lift car. When the doors closed, one of the guards pressed the floor level and then they felt the slight flicker of motion indicating the car was in motion. “I think we'll start small and close to home. Build on small successes,” Moira stated.

  Her assistant nodded. “Wise, ma'am, very wise. Building on small successes will play well with the media and the confidence of the public,” he stated.

  Moira nodded. She liked that it played well with him, and his reasoning was sound. “Very well. Have um …”

  “Miss Neuwirth. She was a professor and arbitrator, ma'am. She's good.”

  “Fine, fine. Have her report to me during lunch. I need to get a handle on the senior staff and job.”

  “Yes, ma'am.”

  Moira nodded as they continued walking. Apparently being secretary was going to come with its own challenges that would draw her away from the center of power. So be it. It might even be for the best since she wanted to establish her credentials with all the various worlds over time and build up support for the next phase of her career.

  But for now she had to bury that. She had to focus on the here and now, she reminded herself.

  :::{)(}:::

  Commodore Horatio Logan felt a sense of relief and renewed purpose as Caroline arrived in Bek. Once the ship flashed her IFF to the orbital fortresses and fleet he felt the easing of tension on the bridge.

  “We're receiving a hail, sir. It's orders to meet up with another escort and move out to the command fortress in Bek component A, sir,” a comm rating reported.

  “Feed the course to navigation,” the Neochimp captain ordered.

  “Aye, sir,” the rating replied.

  The captain turned to the commodore. “If you're expecting fan fair, I'm sorry to say you'll be sadly mistaken, Commodore,” Captain Perth said. “They are all business here it seems.”

  “That's okay. I'm not a peacock, I'm here to do a job,” Horatio stated, still eying the massive ships around the jump point zone. The Bekians hadn't built anything larger than a super dreadnaught, but they'd pressed the tonnage envelope there he could tell. He didn't have the ship's mass readings, but his engineering trained eyes and mind told him the titans were packed with hardware.

  And since they didn't have hyperdrives, their power systems were set up to power their sublight drives, shields, and energy weapons.

  The captain eyed him and then nodded. “Good to hear, sir.”

  “It's one thing to see your last report and read the downloads we received from them. Quite another to see it in real life. I'm impressed by what they've accomplished,” the commodore admitted.

  “That's because you only had a few years and a small group to start with in Pyrax, sir. Given seven centuries like they had and I bet you'd have done better, sir,” the captain said loyally.

  The commodore cracked a brief smile, but he could see the comparison irked his fellow flag officer. “Admiral Zekowitz, should we contact anyone in particular? Begin the download?”

  “I think we can give them a brief contact report. Sort of lay the ground work,” the rear admiral stated with a nod. “The details can wait until we're closer and more secure,” he said.

  “You heard that,” the commodore asked, looking at the captain.

  “Aye, sir. We'll be ready for your transmission when you are,” Captain Perth stated with a nod.

  “Course plotted and laid in. We have two tin-can sized craft moving along the flight path, sir,” Lieutenant Brock stated.

  “Feed the course to the helm and move us out then Mister Brock,” the captain said formally.

  “Aye aye, sir,” the lieutenant replied.

  :::{)(}:::

  The officers and star system government reacted to Caroline's arrival as well as the surprise of having a flag officer on board. Some were elated, some not so sure. “At least they didn't bring Moira back,” Senator Lars Thurgunsson said. “We can be grateful for that.”

  “You're just happy about that, I can tell. Tickled pink she's out of your hair and on the big stage. Or I should say, on another stage and no longer in direct competition with you anymore,” K'k'R'll, Veraxin president and governor of Bek component A stated. “The truth is; she just left us all in the dust. Her gamble paid off it seems.”

  The chairman of the industrial oversight committee blinked. “I …”

  “What, you were so focused on just seeing her backside you didn't think of that? We just got word in the download she's the new secretary of state,” the Veraxin stated succulently. He clacked his mandibles a few times.

  Lars frowned thoughtfully then nodded grudgingly. “I honestly didn't see that. Shortsighted I admit. The odds of their surviving to get back …”

  “Apparently they have a good helm team over there. We'll have to take a long hard look at that,” the Veraxin stated. “Very carefully.”

  Lars grimaced. “Yes, sir, that we will.”

  :::{)(}:::

  The government and military downloaded the news briefs and plans from Caroline's secure database through a secure whisker laser. It took time for the various staffs to process and digest the petabytes of content. Some members of the government and the Bekian admiralty were still unhappy about the interloper in their midst.

  Admiral Toronto grimaced as he contemplated his glass. He'd been rotated out of his last assignment for a headquarters posting. He hated working at the admiralty, the closer you got to the seat of power the more byzantine the logic and crap … it gave him headaches. He knew for instance that Georgi was in a power struggle with Admiral Childress. The old dinosaur had clawed his way out of retirement and was working to take control of the navy once more. He knew better than to take sides in that sort of clash between titans. Georgi's delay tactics with the medics were the only thing keeping Childress at bay... and they both knew it wouldn't last forever. “Zek getting implants and keys I get. But this other guy …,” the silverback Neogorilla shook his massive head. “He's an outsider and a commodore; what was Admiral Irons thinking??”

  “Apparently he's all they can send?” Vice Admiral Georgi Pashenkov asked. The Neowolf scratched at an itch behind his ear. “Or the easiest to send? Or he's someone they are glad to be rid of? Like Zek?”

  “Check that again. According to our most recent download, other than Yorgi Sienkov, there are precisely four other flag officers in the entire Federation! Five if you include Admiral Irons who is currently sitting in the president's chair,” the Neogorilla stated. “I'm thinking of transferring if I can arrange it. There is definitely a lot of room for promotion there,” he said in admiring tone. It would get him out of the byzentine politics of the Bekian navy, but he knew his family group wouldn't countersign the move.

  “I … where did you see that?” the Neowolf vice admiral asked, setting his glass down.

  The Neogorilla silently passed over the file. The vice admiral stared at it dumbly, reading it and then re-reading it. Admiral Toronto snorted after a moment. “Reading it over and over isn't going to make it untrue.”

  “No, it doesn't. I'm just … well, stunned. I knew they were hard up but …”

  “Apparently very much so. Until a few months ago this commodore was a senior grade captain. He's come up through the ranks since Admiral Irons made him a commander. Before that he was a power room tech and before that
, a yeoman.”

  “Are you serious?” the Neowolf demanded ears flat as he stared at the Neogorilla. Clearly he was aghast at the concept. It wasn't impossible in Bek for an enlisted to mustang, but it was extraordinarily rare.

  Admiral Toronto nodded. “Very.”

  “And Admiral Irons sent him here? What was he thinking?” the Neowolf demanded, reading the man's history again. His eyes flicked over the details in the man's bio.

  “You really didn't pay attention to the history, did you? Horatio Logan is the guy the admiral left in charge of Pyrax when he was exiled. The man built up the shipyard while also building ship hulls by the hundreds. He packed warehouses full of parts that he had the keys to produce—dozens of warehouses, factories, the works. The man found ways around his key limits.”

  “Seems like he'll fit in here then,” the vice admiral stated with a nod.

  “Heh, I hadn't actually thought of that. Except he's a mustang.”

  “Yeah that is a strike against him,” Georgi said then he yipped as his eyes caught something odd. He scrolled back and then looked hard at the dates. “I see what you mean. But he's not an ordinary mustang. He's a sleeper too!”

  “Okay, now it's my turn to be shown up it seems,” Admiral Toronto said with a frown as he pulled up the commodore's biography. The vice admiral pointed to the entry as well as to the man's birthday. “I admit; I missed that.”

  “Touché. I guess we're even,” the Neowolf replied dryly. “We've got too much data dumped on us. Too many things to process.”

  “Stop making excuses for yourself. Next you'll be blaming your age or staff. Yes, we miss things, we're only mortal. But we can do better, I'm pretty sure that's what his message is going to be.”

  “Right,” the Neowolf drawled. “This ought to be good.”

  Admiral Toronto picked up and swirled his glass thoughtfully.

  “What?”

  “I'm just wondering if Irons is having the same problems we are,” Admiral Toronto said. The vice admiral looked at him curiously. “Think about it. We're resenting Logan as an outsider. What about from their side? You have to admit, sending our people to Pyrax and beyond must make a few careerists suddenly put out. People they don't know, never trained with are suddenly there, being promoted ahead of them for slots they wanted.”

 

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