by Chris Hechtl
“That too is indeed a limiting factor,” Admiral Irons said, nodding to her avatar. “Nice of you to join us, Captain,” he said with a small smile.
“I've been monitoring the conversation but I've been tied up with a few other projects. Torpedoes would have the most impact, Admiral.”
“Ordinance handling would be a problem. We'd need to retrain some of our people. We'd also need to check the handling and containment methods on the ships that would hold the ordinance. Not to mention the munitions colliers expected to move them,” Otto warned.
“Regulations can be reviewed and the crews trained,” Sprite replied. “That takes time. Time which we'll have since it will be a while before the antimatter arrives, then more time to process it into the warheads. There will be some losses there,” she warned.
“There always is when handling antimatter. We'll deal with it,” the admiral stated.
“Anyway we can get it to Admiral White?” Monty asked. “I know he could use it,” he said.
“Unfortunately, no, not in the time we've got left before the enemy's expected arrival,” Admiral Sienkov replied. Otto grimaced but nodded in agreement.
“The courier brought back news that Admiral White abandoned B-95a3. He's due in to Protodon at any time,” Sprite reminded them.
“I know,” Admiral Irons said quietly.
:::{)(}:::
Prometheus's arrival in Pyrax triggered a promotion. Commander Shelby Logan was promoted to Captain JG when her ship returned to Pyrax for rest and refit. She had downloaded the news that she was on the list when they'd passed through Gaston, but the deliberations and final decision had been held while her ship had been in hyperspace to Pyrax.
One of the first things Shelby did once they docked was march herself over to Admiral Subert's office. Commander Garretaj slipped her into the admiral's schedule for a brief ceremony and link-up so Admiral Subert and Admiral Irons could download her new implant keys.
Admiral Irons had only a moment to congratulate her through the ansible before he had to depart. She managed to stammer a thanks before he signed off.
With the implant keys came new downloaded orders. She and her crew were going to be given long overdue liberty, and there would be some promotions and shuffling around of her personnel. But once that was finished and they reported back to duty, they were scheduled for a brief working-up exercise to blow the rust off before a new adventure.
The newly-minted junior grade captain had been designated as the future Tau sector naval commander. Her orders were to take Prometheus and a rebuilt and reinforced task force around the southern loop to Airea 3 and then into Tau. Her mission was planned to be a beachhead and an olive branch to the sector, building off the intelligence that hopefully the light cruisers Pugila and Belfast would provide them.
While making contacts with the locals and hopefully securing space around the shipways to Rho sector, she was to establish a base and new sector capital. Unfortunately, she was going to have her work cut out for her; her reinforced task force was to be used as security to protect Prometheus.
Which meant she wouldn't be able to draw them down to chase pirates. She'd have to figure something else out. She'd have her ship and industrial plant but only local resources and a finite amount of personnel to start with. Talk about making bricks without straw Shelby thought before she put the problems of the future aside to bask in the moment at hand.
Shelby grinned in bemusement as she looked at her shiny new rank insignia and the congratulations from friends that started to hit her inbox. When she departed the admiral's office, the staff room was filed with her officers and senior enlisted as well as personnel she knew. They applauded her.
“If you think I'm taking you all out for drinks, you've got another think coming,” she growled playfully, which sparked a laugh from the group.
Captain Firefly also passed on his congratulations. He was still considering signing on to the Tau mission since he'd been denied command or participation in the eastern front mission. If he did it would jog Shelby's elbow though, since he would be the senior officer and thus in command of the mission. But she would understand he thought.
He considered going on the mission as a fresh start, but it would mean taking on a crew and getting the Admiralty to light a fire under his mothballed ship's repair. Something they were loath to do apparently, quite possibly to let the story of her disastrous battle die down for a while, he wasn't certain.
Then there were the problems he knew lurked in the shadows and deep web of the star system's electronic net. Captain Sprite and the Xeno Wraith hunters couldn't guarantee the star system was clear of intrusion. He had recently picked up a sniff of the Wraith, most likely a clone or bot.
Whatever it was it had self-destructed before he'd managed to catch and analyze it fully. He had managed to get a contact report off to ONI. They were tight lipped about the incident. He speculated that civilian hardware in the star system had been compromised, but the ONI techs Commander Teague had dispatched had refused to speculate.
Should he go? He wasn't certain if he had a choice or not. He also didn't like the idea of leaving an enemy behind him. Either way the decision was out of his hands.
:::{)(}:::
Apparently the recent promotions were enough to kick start something loose in the Pyrax Congress. Governor Saladin called a press conference. “I'd like to apologize for not doing this sooner,” he said from his office as the cameras rolled. He made a show out of taking a parchment and signing it, using different pens for each syllable of his name until he was finished. “There. Fleet Admiral Irons, I have just singed the official pardon from Pyrax. You have me and my people's full apology for the mistreatment you endured and have continued to endure. You are an innocent man, and I hope this exoneration moves us all a step in the right direction,” he said.
He then went on to expound the virtues of Pyrax, how they'd turned over a new leaf, and how Pyrax should be the proper capital of the reborn federation. He waxed poetic about how the admiral had started that mission in Pyrax which had been the sector capital in the days of the old federation.
Protector cut into the admiral's scheduled reading session for him to view the news as it played out over the ansible. Admiral Irons saw the press conference and was amused by it.
“A pardon? For what? I wasn't tried, I didn't commit a crime …,” he shook his head.
“Apparently someone wasn't thinking of that, sir.”
“No, they weren't. They are giving fresh justification to the charges all over again,” the admiral mused.
“Hopefully it doesn't come to that,” the A.I. aide stated. “Ah, Press Secretary Liobat was about to hold the daily brief. Apparently she is being hit with questions about it.” The A.I. changed the video over to the press secretary.
“Well, first off, Admiral Irons had proven time and time again that he was innocent all along. A cursory viewing of his unedited and unfiltered sensor and video files, as well as a reading of the testimony of his A.I. and several of the people involved prove that,” Liobat pointed out. Admiral Irons nodded. He was glad she had left out part about how the admiral had full immunity since he was acting president.
“Is this an olive branch to get the admiral over to Pyrax? To relocate the capital?” a reporter from Knox News asked.
“Oh I'd say yes. A means to grab attention and to sell us on this idea. Wrangling on where the location of the capital is or will be has been going on off and on for a while.” Liobat's ears flicked. “Obviously Antigua has the inside tract here,” she said slyly, evoking a chuckle from the audience of reporters.
“Antigua is the center of communication, all of our ansibles lead here as you know. Production of ansibles is here. It is also the largest industrial center, now eclipsing Pyrax,” she stated. “Local GDP supports that.”
“The other contenders, Epsilon Triangula, Pyrax, and Bek, haven't stopped soliciting to move the capital however,” a reporter from Galactic Spotlight N
ews pointed out.
“We live in a nation that guarantees the freedom of speech. I expect the politicking will continue,” the press secretary said as she concluded her statement.
The reporters switched to the anchors, then talking heads for a moment. Various so-called experts weighed in on the pardon as well as moving the capital. But then Knox News and GSN managed to ambush Secretary Sema for her opinion.
“Oh boy. Wanna bet she'll push to move the capital to Bek?” Admiral Irons drawled.
“Bek is the most secure star system, Admiral,” Protector pointed out.
“Yes, which is a two-edged sword. The rapids constrict movement in and out too much. We'd lose momentum in order to attain a sense of security. Possibly a false one,” the admiral rumbled. “Not going to happen. I'm not going to pull up stakes and move this late in the game,” he growled as he watched the woman turn and pause to address the reporter's questions.
Moira surprised the admiral and audience by putting the matter off however. “We can debate it, we can vote on it, we can do a lot of things. But not now. For now, we need to focus on the fight to come. We're by no means out of the woods. As many of you know, we received word of a fresh battle. We need to focus all of our effort on providing the supplies and personnel to the war front.”
She surveyed the group sternly. “After the war is won, we can bring this debate up once more if we wish. But not before.”
Admiral Irons grinned. He could have cheered; he probably would have if he'd been there. At the least his smile of approval and satisfaction would have lit the room and probably thrown her message off. All the better to be where he was, watching the press conference in his office.
“Sir, the meeting is about to start,” the A.I. reminded him.
“So much for the brief,” the admiral said as he stood. He tucked the tablet under his arm anyway, grabbed his coat and then exited his office with his retinue of staff and security falling in around him.
:::{)(}:::
Once the press conference was finished, he turned his attention to the future. Not the immediate future, but the long term one, something people neglected to look at. He had been trained to take the long view as an officer. To plan the immediate, leave that in the hands of his staff and noncoms to execute, while he looked to the next moves ahead.
Which led him to his present dilemma. At present production rate, Antigua was estimated to run clear of belt and resources in twenty to thirty years. Then they would run through the Oort cloud ten years after that. After that they would then need to break up small moons or look elsewhere for raw materials.
It was therefore essential for long-term planning to start planning at the present time to ease into a logistics change instead of having a sharp disruptive change later Admiral Irons knew. It would mean some headaches, but in supplementing the raw material intake, it would draw out the local resources for a longer period. Work on economy and shipments of raw material from Senka.
Which was why he was having the conference. They needed to wrap their heads around the problem and keep an eye to the future. He hoped they'd keep competition and chest beating to the minimum. And that they took the problem seriously but didn't panic about it.
The closest resources had already been hit hard by Antigua Prime and the other factory cities/industrial concerns. The military complexes feeding the naval yard had marked a lot of rocks, including many of the large rocks that would have been fed on for years by the small industrial plants. Even the Yard Dogs had their own claims.
Recently the industrial centers had begun buying existing claims, some sight unseen. Speculation was starting to rear its ugly head. It was a concern of the natives including Governor Randall. The governor was worried that if the resources were played out too soon it would turn his star system into a backwater and force the admiral to move the capital.
Hence the meeting, Admiral Irons said as they finished the usual meet and greet. “Gentlemen, ladies,” he said nodding to the group as they took a seat. “I know we're all busy so let's get into it.”
“Yes,” the governor exhaled. “It's been brought to my attention that this is a problem but a long-term one. I'm not sure about how to fix it. Obviously trying to curtail growth would fall under the heading of a bad thing.”
“Definitely,” Alice said. Admiral Irons looked over to the waitress turned business woman. She had done a damn good job representing the Yard Dogs. She had no legal training, but she was a good negotiator. She and her husband had sold most of their shares in the company as part of the recent deal, but she'd been kept on to consult when needed.
“We don't want to fall in the same boat Protodon found itself in when they let their belt get cleaned out,” Emily Berkheart said. The cyber was representing Antigua Prime's holdings.
“Definitely not,” Governor Randall said. “We need to think of the future as the admiral said. Not only our own but our children's as well,” he said.
“We can break up moons and even dwarf planets for raw materials,” Minister Cartwright suggested.
“Let's hope it doesn't come to that, at least for a long time,” Governor Randall said, clearly uncomfortable with the idea.
“I've taken a few small steps, but they are small,” Admiral Irons stated. All eyes turned to him. “I recently ordered a destroyer to begin to explore the nearby uninhabited star systems that have been abandoned or never settled.” he said.
Minister Cartwright nodded. Emily's image flickered, but she seemed relieved. Admiral Irons nodded to her. “Those of us who have been around the block with this problem know some of the steps involved in dealing with it. Essentially expansion, first to the Oort cloud, then outer heliopause, breaking down moons and planets, and shipping in material from neighboring star systems until the economics become untenable,” the admiral said. The plan was age old—to send ships in to tear the star system apart and ship the processed materials back to Antigua's voracious appetite.
“He means when the profit loss ratio no longer supports it,” Emily said with a smile to Alice.
“I know what he's saying. The cost of transport would be prohibitive. It's why factory ships and smelter ships were built. Mobile industrial plants have a leg up on us.”
“But are limited in their size,” Admiral Irons said in rejoinder. “You can have a lot of them sure; they can swarm a star system like Protodon. But each can only produce so much so fast. They are individually limited in utility. Though,” he smiled, “they can toss up temporary works, even detach their industrial plant to become space stations and use the ship itself and tugs to feed and expand the plant. I've seen and used that model several times before.”
“If I read the brief right, didn't they have this problem in Terra as well?” Alice asked. “And the other star systems?”
Admiral Irons nodded. “They ran dry of native materials over time due to the voracious appetite of the industrial plants. A lot of material was exported in the form of products or starships; I bet they had the problem during the war.”
“Oh most definitely,” Emily replied with a nod.
“You can eventually eat your own seed corn when you are down to the last bits. Recycle of course, but then recycle your expansion, pull up stakes and move on.”
“That is if you are mobile, which we are not,” Minister Cartwright pointed out. “I think my idea of breaking up moons should be considered a matter of last resort. I bet we'll have some harsh protests from the public if we do,” he warned, looking at the governor.
The governor nodded. “We who live on the ground like a familiar night sky. And there is a concern that the debris from the process would endanger the planet I suppose,” he said.
“Not to mention removing so much mass from the solar system could cause long-term stability issues,” Admiral Irons noted. “But part of your concern is if the industry goes elsewhere, so will the jobs.”
“Yes. It will mean exporting a large percentage of our economy; to have it in star systems nearby w
ould be tantamount to losing it,” Jeff replied with a reluctant nod. “And eventually, that would sap our population and lead to our eventual decline.”
“Not something any of us want,” Minister Cartwright stated. There was a murmur of agreement from the others around the table.
“Well, economic trade will help defray some of the material loss, but it is dependent on how much comes in and in what state. Naturally other star systems are going to want a balance of trade and to improve their own economy,” Admiral Irons stated.
“And they won't sell us the material cheap,” Emily said.
“Exactly. Not with the cost of freight involved. I expect raw material will cost more than locally obtained material for some time, which will repress it's use … at least until speculation makes others look elsewhere to maintain a steady supply,” T'rel'n stated.
“So, is that where we stand? Balance growth with eventual decline?” Alice asked, seemingly nonplused at the idea. “I mean, we can create mobile shipyards, but I know it won't be enough. We'd be like gypsies,” she said shaking her head.
Admiral Irons nodded. What she was suggesting would be rough on the workforce. Protecting them had been a problem as well. It was one of the reasons the navy had evolved the idea to build battle moons to do the job all in one he thought with a grimace.
“So …”
“When the Terran star system began to run low on material, they went to the Centauri star systems. There were terraformed planets there, but they hadn't held up well. Or I should say, the population hadn't,” Admiral Irons stated. “If I remember my history correctly, they were bought out, resettled, then the star system was picked clean. The Veraxins and Taurens did something similar before the federation was born as well.”
“Vultures,” someone muttered darkly.
“It happens,” Admiral Irons stated. “So, recycle, conserve, reuse, find alternative materials, and find an alternative supply. Supplement the existing supply.”
“And how do we handle the imports? If we just let them run wild, the fees will get out of control,” Minister Cartwright warned. “To the point where we won't import anything,” he warned.
