by Chris Hechtl
“There is a problem in engineering. They managed to handle the sensor calibration issue and some software problems, but the fuel injectors needed cleaning.”
“Frack. And they waited until now? Or is this a schedule thing?”
“Regulations, Admiral,” Protector stated.
“Hang the frackin' regulations!” he snarled in reply, throwing his hands up in exasperation as he stormed off to engineering country.
He found the chief engineer working with a couple power room techs to clean the injectors. “Is there a problem, Chief?”
“Yes. Mandatory cleaning at a bad time,” the chief said, then looked up to the visitor. “Sir,” he said warily.
“Give over,” Admiral Irons ordered, holding his right hand out imperiously.
“Sir, this is delicate …”
“I've done my share of injector cleaning. Fortunately, I've got a short cut,” he said dryly as the chief warily handed the first injector over. “Proteus …”
“Cleaning the injectors. Aye, Admiral,” the A.I. said internally. The admiral's right arm turned silver and his hand changed to not only hold the device but probe it. That was mostly for show of his wide-eyed audience. Proteus was using nanites to go through the injector and scour it clean.
“Did you swap the backup injectors in?” the admiral asked as he watched the nanites work.
“They are in now. I need to swap them out with these.”
“You mean to tell me you didn't do this before?” Admiral Irons demanded as he set the device down. “All clean.” He picked up the other.
“We never got around to cleaning them. We're supposed to do that after two skips,” the chief replied. “It's a short run, but given we've never done this before better to be safe than sorry.”
“True in most cases,” Admiral Irons said, tone cool as Proteus finished the second set and he moved on to the third. He felt a presence behind him and checked his HUD. The captain's IFF was outside the compartment with Major Burrows.
“Chief, don't shirk jobs because they are tedious and time consuming,” Admiral Irons said as he surveyed the brushes and wires on the table around the jig. “You of all people should know that. You should know to handle small problems before they become bigger ones,” he growled.
The chief engineer stiffened.
“You can begin installing those,” Admiral Irons said as he finished the third and picked up the last one. “If you haven't noticed, we're on a time crunch here. Don't put stuff like this off again.”
“I wasn't …”
“Admiral, a moment?” a soft voice said from the doorway. Admiral Irons turned as he finished with the injector.
“Yes, Captain?” he asked. She indicated he should step out of the compartment. He frowned. “Get this done, Chief,” he said as handed the last part over a little heavier than he'd intended and then followed the captain out. He ducked through the hatch. He was surprised when the captain went back, reached in, and pulled it shut. He looked at her in surprise.
“Admiral, with all due respect, this is my ship. If you have a problem with my people, you come to me,” she said, tapping her chest significantly with her index finger.
His eyes narrowed. “I don't need a refresher on the chain of command, Captain,” the admiral growled.
“Sir,” she said stiffly.
“FYI, I didn't write him up. It was a verbal reprimand.”
“From a man he admires. A man he's doing his best to please while working twenty-hour shifts pushing this ship.”
The admiral frowned.
“I'm not giving him a pass either, but I know some things fall through the cracks sometimes. He's feeling guilty enough about overlooking something so basic. He's learned his lesson. Rubbing his nose in it in front of the crew is prejudicial to good discipline, sir.”
“I realize he's overworked. I've spent some time in engineering too, Captain.”
“Playing Admiral. Talking. Swapping the shit, old war stories, whatever. I've checked. You do help a lot, but they slack off when you get into lecture mode or when things seem slow. Leave them be. You have your job; they have theirs.”
The admiral's jaw worked for a moment.
“You are saying he needs to stand on his own.”
“Among other things, yes. I know we're in a rush, sir. So does he. No one needs the extra pressure. They'll get it done.”
“Right.”
“Better to get there in one piece than not at all, sir. We're no good to anyone if we're dead.”
“True.” He inhaled and then exhaled, getting control of his temper. “Okay, Captain, I've been schooled.”
“I'm sorry if I seemed out of line, sir.”
“I'll deal with my bruised ego. Let's get this show on the road.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
General Forth called through the tachyon system asking if they needed support.
“Should we send a tug?” he asked when he heard about the problem.
“No, I think we've got it,” Admiral Irons replied as he watched through the video cameras as the engineering crew worked on replacing the injectors and then locked the hardware down again.
“Forty-five minutes until jump,” the ship's A.I. stated over the intercom.
“We'll be out of your hair in less than an hour.”
“Safe sailing, Admiral.”
“Semper Fi, General. Keep kicking ass.”
“I intend to. You do the same in Bek.”
“Damn straight,” Admiral Irons growled.
Chapter 32
Second Fleet
The moment the enemy fleet began to emerge from hyper Captain Varbossa realized there was no point waiting any longer. As CIC was reporting the arrival, he was ordering his ship to power up her hyperdrive and come about.
“Time to get the hell out of dodge,” he said.
“Damn,” the XO murmured.
“Yeah. Tell me about it,” the captain sighed. He had a sudden thought and his finger tapped a button to open a channel to CIC. “I want everything we can see. Go full active while you've got the power. Keep the raw data; don't discount anything.”
“Sir? What about a cyber attack?”
“Sensors only obviously,” the captain replied testily. “Eyes open, ears shut.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“So, we are returning to Dead Drop?”
“No. we'll fall back one jump.”
“Hopefully, there isn't a ship in transit now on its way to relieve us,” the XO said dubiously.
“Their problem. I don't want to stick around. They could launch fighters and bombers at any time. It'll take a couple days to get across the solar system, but I want to be long gone by then.”
“Yes, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
“The tin can is running,” Captain Fudge said. “I think he jumped the gun though. We're getting active sensors here.”
“Wouldn't you? After seeing what's coming behind us?” Captain Jeeves said with a chuckle.
“True,” Captain Fudge replied.
“IFF received. Second Fleet telemetry link established,” the ship's A.I. reported. “A request for the status log has been made.”
“That was quick. Send it,” the captain replied with a nod.
“We need to bring up our jammers. Jam this joker's long-range probes. Keep him from seeing the fleet in detail.”
“Not our call. I'll put the request in though,” Captain Fudge said, typing out the request to the flagship along with a request for new orders.
:::{)(}:::
“Augusta is requesting to jam the enemy's sensor sweeps,” Kyle stated. “And they want fresh orders sir,” the OPS officer said, turning to the admiral.
“We should have thought of that. Order them to do it. Order the screen to do the same. Situation report?”
“Only one enemy ship in sight. It is running.”
“Understood.”
Garfield had looked up at the s
ighting report but grimaced, ears half flat. “Darn.”
The admiral turned and gave him a sidelong look. “You'll get your chance again.”
“I know,” the Neocat said, flicking his ears and then straightening his shoulders. “I just hate the idea of any of them getting away. What they do to civilian traffic,” he shook his head.
Amadeus grimaced but then nodded in mute agreement.
:::{)(}:::
“Sir, enemy fleet is now jamming our sensor sweeps. Long range lidar and radar are useless.”
“We're coming about anyway. Keep trying. Can you learn anything from the jamming?”
“We are taking notes, sir,” the lieutenant replied, sounding dubious.
“Good man,” the captain replied with a nod.
“Engineering report. We are at 25 percent power with the hyperdrive. Power is increasing by 1 percent per minute,” the chief engineer said.
“Why so slow?” the XO demanded.
“A lot of power is going to the long-range sensors,” the engineer replied. “And I'm down a couple of plasma conduits. We're working on a fix now.”
“Ah,” the XO said, looking at Captain Varbossa.
“No hurry,” the captain replied with a shrug. “Keep probing.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
Two hours later CIC reported the Horathian's departure. Kyle snorted. “Did we get anything out of it?” he asked, apparently annoyed to let the snoop go.
“Not that we know of. She was too far out to get more of a fingerprint. We knew she was an Arboth,” CIC reported. “We didn't have enough to go beyond that. Augusta and Whodiddy tried as well, but the range is too long, sir.”
“They certainly had long enough to do so,” Aleck grumbled.
“Did anyone try to upload a virus?” Garfield asked, interrupting the human. “I wish they'd stuck around. I would have sent in a couple of recon drones and a broadside. Just one going in ballistic could have done the job.”
“Or wasted ammo,” Aleck replied.
“Whose side are you on?”
“I don't like firing at something unless it's there,” Aleck replied.
“Do us both a favor, I'll handle the weapons, you stick to what you are good at,” the Neocat growled.
“That's enough of that,” the admiral interjected. “Leopold?”
“No sign of any reception of our virus packages. I seeded some into the jamming as well. Again, no sign of receipt.”
“Understood,” the admiral grunted, clearly irritated at the failure.
“Well, it was worth a shot,” Aleck replied with a shrug as he looked away.
:::{)(}:::
Captain Valdez stalked the corridors of his ship, more to stretch his legs and refocus his eyes from the endless paperwork than on the lookout for anything in particular.
Besides, he'd been taught that a little showing of the senior officer sometimes got people to behave. They never knew when he or the CAG might show up. Case in point, he thought as he turned as he heard a couple of pilots grumbling at the intersection nearby. “Here we go again. Hurry up and wait.”
“Yeah.” They stopped short when they saw the captain. “Sir!” they said, popping to attention. He snorted and stepped to one side and indicated they should join him. Once they were clear of the main path, he cocked his head. Each of the pilots came to parade rest.
Junior studied them. They were clean and fit. Good. They definitely didn't want to be dinged by him for their appearance. He could access their records but didn't bother.
“Story of the life in the navy, gentlemen. Infinite boredom punctuated by brief moments of sheer terror. Get over it.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Are you two up?”
“We're back up, sir. We were headed to the sim deck.”
“If you are back up, you sit in the ready room and do paperwork until your shift ends. Unless you were authorized to get some sim time in?”
“No, sir. We saw an opening in the schedule.”
“Let a buddy know. You two go where you are supposed to be. I'd hate for you to miss a call or burn time to get to your birds from the sim deck.”
Once of the pilots grimaced ever so slightly. The other stood at attention. Both nodded. “Aye aye, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
:::{)(}:::
Second Fleet settled in quickly and began to run a cycle of resupply, virtual exercises, and downtime under Commander Kyle Offenger's stern eye and hand. The ships that had not been returned to Protodon had managed to get themselves up to 95 percent. There was still some work to do of course; there always was, plus the ongoing maintenance in the fleet.
The few ONI officers in the fleet reported to First Lieutenant Gaudino to continue to process the mountains of data they had. In between running their own ships, the A.I. in the fleet used their spare processing cycles and memory to help.
She had little to report during the staff's daily meetings. Nothing earth shattering. Most of the other staff members stuck to a business as usual tone in their reports. There were a few things that were brought up however.
“I'm wonder about the schedule for couriers. We just left B-97a, so they should catch up to us shortly, right?” Newly promoted First Lieutenant Aleck Rowland asked. “Should we consider setting up an ansible when the transport arrives?
“I don't know. We've only got so many,” Kyle stated slowly. “I don't think we should waste them just because we don't like the time spent on the couriers to B101a1. Besides, the couriers are going to come and go anyway.”
“But they are there to be used. And they can make more, right?” Aleck persisted, looking over to the admiral for support.
He didn't find any. The Neochimp shook his head. “No, we can continue to use couriers to remain in contact.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Ch'v'tt replied, making a note.
“This system sucks. We don't have a lot of natural resources to draw off of. It's too diffused,” Garfield complained.
There was a snort from another furred being at the table. The Neogorilla dwarfed the small cat. “You mean you can't play hide and seek in it,” Kelly teased, brown eyes twinkling.
“That too,” Garfield replied with a shrug. “It's just as bad in the next system over I believe.” He looked over to Aleck. The staff navigator grimaced and nodded.
“That's why this jump chain isn't occupied. There is little here, and the systems just serve as way points for those who pass through,” Aleck stated.
“Point,” the Neocat acknowledged, flicking his ears.
“We can't get fuel here so order the ships and especially the small craft to watch fuel expenditures. I want everyone caught up on training and maintenance. If I find out later someone slacked off when they had this time, I'll be pissed,” Admiral White growled. Heads nodded around the table. Kyle made a scratching motion on the tablet in front of him. It was apparent that he had wanted to bring up more exercises and was now disregarding the idea.
“Sir, are we going to wait for authorization to attack?” Ch'v'tt asked.
“Given that Admiral Irons is … elsewhere and incommunicado for a while, no,” Admiral White said with a shake of his head. That made a few people sit up straight in surprise at that news. None of them had known Admiral Irons was away. Speculation ran through their minds and on some of their faces, but he rolled right on without explanation. “I have full authorization to go as far as Garth. I intend to if the opportunity arises.”
“Yes, sir.”
“We're just waiting on that prowler report.”
“Can we move the light cruisers into the next star system over?” Garfield asked.
“As soon as we cycle them through the fleet train first,” Kyle said. “Their crews deserve some downtime too.”
“Um, I was considering switching them out or even switching in a couple heavy cruisers to give them the experience too,” the Veraxin stated.
Amadeus glanced at his operational offi
cer and then back to his chief of staff. He nodded. “Good idea.”
“Yeah, it is,” Kyle admitted. “I get stuck in the idea of keeping them as squadrons. I guess it can't hurt.”
“They'll do fine. Did you see anywhere in the fleet orders if Shepard's division is going to get relieved?” Admiral White asked.
“No …?” Kyle said, accessing the fleet orders and then running a search on the name. After a moment, he shook his head. “No, sir.”
Amadeus grimaced. “Apparently, they've fallen through the cracks again. I swear; people forget the pickets need to be rotated regularly. Okay, write an order for two light cruisers or other cruisers to replace them if they haven't already. Draw them from Protodon,” he said as Kyle opened his mouth to protest. The human's mouth closed and he nodded.
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Good. Find out about the reinforcements too. I'd like to get Quirinus back before we move in to Dead Drop.”
“Is Bismark getting lonely, sir?” Garfield teased.
“No,” Leopold stated from the holographic projector. It lit and his Tauren avatar appeared. “But I would appreciate the help in kicking some pirate ass.”
“I'm pulling her schedule up now, sir. I believe even if she gets priority turnaround in Antigua she'll still be running working-up exercises before coming back here. So, we won't expect her for at least four or five months—six at the outside.”
“If they send her at all. Technically, I was supposed to be sent back too,” Leopold pointed out dryly.
“Ah yeah, borrowed. I did forget that,” Garfield replied, coughing into a furred fist to hide a grin.
“Cute,” Leopold said, eyeing the Neocat as the Neocat straightened. “I have no complaints about the assignment however,” he said, turning his monocle to the admiral.
“Good to know,” the admiral said, addressing his comment to the ship's A.I. before he turned to his chief of staff. “Write up a request on her—her or a replacement ship.”
“I highly doubt they'll send Sun Tzu, sir,” the Veraxin chittered, mandibles flexing as his truehands signaled first-degree doubt.
