by John Ringo
"If the Tir is unable to agree to that statement he is more of a fool than he appears," Aelool said, making the Indowy grimace that equated to laughter.
"It is agreed," the Tir said, gritting his teeth again. "You are commander of Fleet Strike."
"Bit more than that," Mike said. "That's going to be my title but not my total function. For the time being, Fleet Strike is going to be the tail that wags. I need forces that can fight and that's my first job. But I also need a Fleet that can cover my back and support me on call every time, no fucking questions asked. Which is the dog I'm going to wag. One of them."
"For now," the Tir said.
"Bullshit," Mike said. "Because now everyone knows that you've got your claws in the rest of the Strike officers. Only officers I recommend are going to be trusted. You created this mess, this is your penance for it: Mike O'Neal calling the shots. Get that through your pointed head. Your decision-making days are over. These are 'take order' days. If you cannot grasp that, then I will formally request that Thomas lift the 'no violence' ban, wait until my daughter is done with you and request a replacement. Comments?"
"What is your point?" the Tir asked.
"During the Posleen War you guys fucked with us constantly," Mike said. "I don't know exactly why, I don't really care. All I care about is that you don't do it anymore. You need us like you've never needed us, even with the Posleen. The Posleen moved slow. These guys are moving like lightning. We don't have time for fuck around. And we don't have to take it anymore. Because the Himmit are going to make sure you're playing square. Aren't you, Rigas?"
"That is an acceptable task," Rigas said. "One ability I will reveal is that the AID net is anything but closed to us. Every communication the Darhel have made, that they think secret, is known to us. And virtually every communication that is nonelectronic. I am authorized to give you support in, as you said it, making them 'play fair.' "
"Tell whoever your boss is 'thanks,' " Mike said, nodding. "And you're going to start playing to the human's tune, not the other way around. Because right now I don't see us winning this thing. The only way we're going to is if everyone gets behind the wheel and pushes. Crabs, Darhel, Indowy and human."
"We have . . . obligations," the Darhel said nervously. The revelations of the Himmit had clearly shaken him.
"Yeah, including to me personally," Mike said. "Ones you're not fulfilling. We'll hold that one in abeyance, but it's only temporary. I'm going to order an audit as soon as it seems feasible. Something about perpetually owing me GNP from multiple planets. That sort of shit has to stop. I don't care how you do it, it has to stop. If you need somebody killed, see Cally. She'll be happy to assist."
"Starting with you," Cally said, buffing her nails and not looking up.
"Tam, I take it you've already expunged that goat-fuck you called a court-martial," Mike said.
"Can't, actually," the general said. "Colonel Leblanc is in possession of the relevant documents."
"Brought them along," Glennis said, smiling ferally.
"We'll finish up the paperwork later," Tam said. "Take it from this seat; the . . . loyalist faction considers you the only choice for commander of Fleet Strike."
"Oh, it's a hell of a lot more than that," Mike said, looking over at Admiral Hartono, who was still sitting mute. "Fleet's so fucked up we might as well scrap it. We're going to be hard put finding decent officers but I'm sure there are some. All the current commanders are going to be remanded to the Fleet Penal Facility, pending a full audit of their finances."
"I'm not sure I can permit that," Thomas said. "I gave assurances that they were to be given the same safe-conduct as the rest of the parties in this meeting."
"Great," Mike said. "As soon as the meeting's over, I'll have my personnel handle it. The Tir will shut down the ships to be boarded."
"Done," the Tir said, grinding his teeth.
"And you're in charge of the investigation," Mike said.
"What?" Cally snapped.
"Who better to know where the bodies are buried than the grave digger, daughter-of-mine?" Mike said, grinning at her. "I mean, it's not really an investigation, just a matter of punching the right buttons. But, Tir, I want the data to be solid. No fucking around with it. I'm sure there's enough real dirt that you won't have to. And I want a list of officers that aren't dirty. They may not be competent but it's a starting point."
"They are all quite junior," the Tir said. "We ensured that."
"They'll have to learn fast. Since the most advanced Indowy materials aren't available anyway, that means the Indowy need to change," Mike said, looking at Aelool.
"That will be hard to effect," the Bane Sidhe admitted. "And although I am a clan leader, I am a very junior one. The great clans will not even notice me."
"They'll notice the Tir, though," Mike said, looking at the Darhel. "There is this thing called 'mass production.' The Indowy seem to have never heard of it."
"The economic ramifications . . ." Tir Dol Ron said, grinding his teeth.
"Don't matter," Mike said. "Wiped out. Keep that in mind. Destroyed. Enslaved. You: Whining. Me: Not listening. Posleen forges can make everything except ACS armor. Yet there are hardly any in production. We both know why. That is changing. Right. Damned. Now."
"They're actually quite hard to convert," Thomas said. "They require . . ."
"An advanced mentat or a God King," Aelool said. "Get a God King and you can get as many forges running as you'd like. Keyed to accept input from humans, Indowy or even AIDs."
"And don't tell me the Indowy can't make more or something similar," Mike said.
"No," Thomas said. "Making something similar is actually quite easy. It requires, at best, a fourth level Sohon, not a seventh."
"So we should, within no more than a year, have more industrial capacity than we can possibly use," Mike said, looking at the Tir. "Because we don't have any soldiers left! Don't think I've forgotten watching my corps wiped out, you miserable pissant. And the one thing I would require in the way of retribution is Admiral Suntoro's head on a pike. Fortunately for everyone, he's already dead. Rigas?"
"Very," the Himmit said. "I can get recordings."
"Please do," Mike said. "I want to watch them over and over again. But right now we're already down to nearly nothing. Tam, forces?"
"Just what's here in the system and a scattering in others," the general said. "Which means, effectively, support troops."
"SheVas?"
"Zero. Lost them all on R-1496 Delta and none in the works."
"And that's squarely on my plate, but it was a battle, not a massacre. ACS?"
"Maybe a dozen suits left here and there," the general said. "Mostly in the training detachment. We even deactivated the local unit three years ago. They were all transferred to the Eleventh Corps."
"Consolidation divisions?"
"Three," Tam said. "Scattered to hell and gone, mostly in the reclamation zone which is in the opposite direction from the threat. Year or two to get them in-gathered if we've got the ships. And they're not exactly what I'd call first line forces, anyway."
"Legion?"
"I've got some couriers out looking for it. It's out in the Blight, too, but it's at least in one group. Basically, there's not a damned thing available between here and the enemy force. Really nothing between them and Gratoola. Well, there is a force of light armor and the fighters on the Moon. And the Fleet, for what good it will do us. In case you're not aware, it's mostly on paper. The admirals have been skimming the budget on the rest. Well, the admirals and the Darhel."
"Point one in your investigation, Tir," Mike said. "I believe that translates as Clerk. Well, I'm going to clerk the hell out of you. Get used to it."
"We will talk," the Tir said.
"Maybe in a couple of decades," Mike said. "If any of us survive. You're going to be too busy in the meantime. And by that time my appeal to the Aldenata will be reviewed."
"It has to be forwarded," the Tir grow
led. "Such appeals cannot come even from human Sohon. They must be made by a clan—"
"Leader," Aelool said, raising his hand. "Already done."
"What?" the Tir snarled. "I will—"
"What, call my debts?" the Indowy said, wrinkling his face again. "As a human would put it: Helllooo! Bane Sidhe! I've been off your books for decades. The appeal is already submitted. In fact, there are several small clan leaders associated with the Bane Sidhe. All of them have submitted the claim. And we will be lobbying others to do so."
"Okay, since that's settled," Mike said. "Tam, you're staying right where you're at."
"What?" Colonel Leblanc snapped.
"He's good at what he does," Mike said. "We need the quality. Tam, I take it the time for fuck-around's over?"
"With pleasure," the general said. "I reiterate: I was trying to hold things together. There's not much left to hold together, but that was my sole concern. Personally, I was overjoyed at the mutiny. Professionally, I didn't see it having a chance of working."
"Because of the AIDs," Mike said, looking over at the Tir. "Item the second—well, more like twelfth. Everything has to be reconfigured so the Darhel cannot tamper with it. No single group is to have that power."
"We'll just redesign that way," Tam said. "Most of the equipment's going to have to be completely changed. In the middle of the worst part of a war."
"For the time being I don't think the Darhel are going to screw with our stuff," Mike said, looking at the Tir again. "Are you?"
"When our central worlds are under threat?" the Tir asked. "Do you think us mad?"
"No, just control freaks," Mike said. "Be aware, the first sign of such tampering, or turning over information to the enemy, and the bloodbath against the Darhel will make the Hedren look like a day in the park. Pass that on. We will wipe you the fuck out, every last one. If so much as one of you betrays us in any way, you will all be held at fault. Do I make myself clear?"
"You are very clear," the Darhel said.
"Tam, you're going to have to turn these clerks into soldiers," Mike said. "And start a recall of any former Fleet Strike or other military personnel available in the system. Cally, we're going to need to include most of the fighting arm of the Bane Sidhe."
"Okay," Cally said after a moment's hesitation. "Most of them are former military. Given the situation, and the fact that we're stomping on the Darhel in the meantime, I don't see them bitching. Some of us, though, are purely civilian trained. Me for example."
"Places to use you," Mike said. "What do you have in the way of organizational types?"
"Again, mostly designed to support an insurgency," Aelool answered. "But we actually have quite a few Indowy that can be moved into bureaucratic and support positions. If they are needed. In nearby systems."
"We're going to need them," Mike said. "But they've got to be able to work with humans."
"The Indowy have become more accustomed to that," Aelool said. "Some still have issues, but we can get sufficient manpower for any support you request."
"Time, time, ask me for anything but time," Mike said. "Given the speed that the Hedren are spreading, if we're going to save any of the core worlds, we're going to have to speed things up, somehow."
"We Sohon can communicate in more or less realtime over interstellar distances," Thomas said. "But we cannot carry large groups any faster."
"I may be able to help with . . . movement," Rigas said. "I can make no guarantees. But if it is permitted, we may be able to move your divisions, for example, at a higher rate than you would anticipate. I can give the Indowy a new engine design capable of faster movement between stars. And in sublight drive. We also . . . will release our cloaking ability to you."
"You guys must be really stressed about these Hedren," Mike said.
"That would be a way of stating it, yes," Rigas said. "Clarification. We do not fear the Hedren Tyranny with the exception of their Sohon capability. We even have methods of dealing with that to an extent. We could probably defeat the Hedren with minimal losses. We simply wish you to deal with them if you can. Dealing with them ourselves would mean revealing capabilities we wish to hide. It is possible that the Hedren are not the only threats we may face in the near future. Others may be . . . worse. We are retaining our capabilities against that day. Think of us as a reserve in the event that the Hedren are fleeing a more formidable force. Do you use your reserve immediately?"
"At what point do you guys step in?" Mike asked.
"Only if there is a more formidable threat than the Hedren," the Himmit said. "That is nonnegotiable. I hate to say this in such a charged atmosphere, but we will not act further even to save all of your races. With the exception of the support we are offering, you are on your own."
"Nothing new about that," Mike said with a snort. "Tir, is there one honest man in Second Fleet? One that you'd also judge as competent."
"We were aggressive in our suborning of Fleet," the Tir admitted. "And we are very efficient. However, there are a few officers that may suit your needs."
"Dump their service records and your reasons for trying to weed them out onto the Fleet Strike personnel net, flagged to my attention," Mike said.
"Already done," the Tir said. "I had anticipated that request."
"Wasn't a request," Mike said. "And you're done flitting around. Tam, go tell General Cordell, gently, that I'm taking over his office. Cally, start your recall. Have them all report to Fleet Strike headquarters. Tommy, brevet rank of major. You're in charge pending someone of higher rank and experience. Colonel Leblanc."
"Sir?"
"Get back to the Moon. Then Titan. Spread the word that there's a new regime in town. We're all kissy face now."
"That's going to be . . . interesting," the colonel said.
"You figured out how to start a mutiny," Mike said. "Now you get to enjoy the fruits. General Leblanc."
"Get this," Mike said as Cally came in the door. He was looking at his monitor and shaking his head. "Fleet Lieutenant Takao Takagi. Formerly Fleet Strike. His carrier got mauled in second Barwhon, he was a wing-commander, and there just wasn't a pilot slot available. Transferred to Fleet as a lieutenant commander. Rose to the rank of captain, commanded the supermonitor Akara at Induri Four. One of the officers on the 'reconnaissance in force' that raised the Siege of Earth. Reduced to rank of lieutenant junior grade in the post-war cutback. Promoted once since. In forty fucking years. He's currently a morale and welfare officer on the Lincoln. Darhel list him as 'highly competent and highly duty oriented.' Which for them is a double danger sign."
"Where is he right now?"
"In detention," Mike said. "He got rounded up along with all the other officers when the Strike forces boarded the ships. I've already sent a message to have him report to me. There are some other guys but this is the one that the Darhel hate the most. Once I figured that out, it was easy to sort the database."
"Figures," Cally said, chuckling. "I looked into the slabs. There were two that were captured intact by the Darhel when we had to cut and run. They couldn't get them working but now that we're in the mix we can get them up. The Tir has them in transit. But that's it for now. Making one is a high-level Sohon operation, but I got a chance to talk to Thomas. He says that he can get a production run started on them pretty quick. But the closest planet to do the work is Induri. Which means two months' transit time. He wasn't sure on production time, but he figured six weeks."
"Anything else you guys have to throw into the kitty?" Mike asked.
"We got some pretty nice camouflage suits off the Himmit," Cally said. "I talked to Aelool about those. They didn't want to offend the Himmit before by copying them. Now that we're getting so much more support, he's put out the word to get cracking on them. They're easier. We may be able to use Posleen forges for production. It will give us the same cloaking capability as the Hedren. Might get us one surprise but that's about it."
"You know any human businessmen who aren't totally corrupt?"
Mike asked, apparently at random.
"There's a guy in Panama, of all places," Cally said. "He was the dictator for a while during the war but he's pretty much a straight arrow. Let me elaborate; if he pulls some shit, and he may, it will be to advance the war effort, not to hinder it. North American or European? None that I know of. Any that were . . . duty oriented, as you put it, got pushed out or buried long ago. There are some Japanese that aren't too bad, but they're still pretty shifty. I mean, I wouldn't totally trust them. What do you need one for?"
"I can't plan the production and run the war," Mike said. "I need an industrialist to head up, oh, a War Board. Figure out stuff like the forges, how to get running. Indowy, how to get efficient."
