The Gathering Storm

by Chris Hechtl

  “I feel for Tyjon and Kapueo. What about your understudies?” Martha asked.

  “They are on the ship. Not their turn,” Rish replied as he took a seat. “What about them?”

  “Ah well, they'll get their shot. Still, it's not fair to Tyjon and Kapueo to miss out.”

  “They'll survive. Hey, are you two going to go to a luau?” the Selkie asked.

  Martha glanced at Jamie. He shrugged. “I dunno,” she replied slowly. “I thought about going to a fish fry but I don't want to be mistaken for the main course,” she drawled.

  That earned a chuckle from the males as well as some of the other patrons around them that were in ear shot.

  “Try Paradise Cove or Lahiana Luau. Both are nearby, but you've got to take the ferry to Lahiani. It's on the small island there,” another patron said, pointing to an island off in the distance. “They are the best period.”

  “Ah.”

  “I think you missed the ferry though. If you want to go somewhere tonight, try Paradise then,” the woman said thoughtfully.

  “Okay, thank you,” Martha replied politely.

  “Try the poi. And the uala. It's good beer.”

  “Thanks for the tip,” the Pican said, fluttering her gills slightly.

  “Are … what species are you, if you don't mind my asking?” the woman asked.

  “I don't mind. We're Picans. We are a Chimera variant. We are descendants of humans who added fish features. We're both from Epsilon Triangula.”

  “Oh.”

  “He's a Selkie,” she said, indicating Rish as a waitress brought him his dinner. She kept a wary eye on the sea gulls that were hovering around.

  “Oh,” the woman said as the birds began to caw loudly. “Stick under the umbrella. Those rats with wings like to hurl their poo at you if you don't feed them.”

  “Ah. Right,” Martha said as Rish dug into his steaming pile of crab legs.

  :::{)(}:::

  Once he had a quorum of flag officers, Admiral Irons held a quick flag conference. Once the meeting was called to order, he took the stage and looked at them balefully. “I'm going to keep this short and sweet. I can't trust many of you since I don't know you and many of you resigned instead of taking Childress and Draken out. That's on you,” he said coldly, looking at them.

  He hated that he had to rush through everything, even the general housecleaning. “We're stopping just short of the fire sale I'd intended. Apparently not everyone must go. You can thank Admiral Zekowitz and Admiral Logan for that.”

  He paced for a minute, making them uneasy. “I know some of you might think you kept it together because someone had to. That might be admirable to some, not me. I know there were other motives at play as well. I know how it goes though, working under a bastard of a boss. So, I'm willing to cut you some slack, right up until Horatio brought my message in,” he said, surveying the group coldly.

  “Some of you were not in uniform when that happened. I get that, so, you get a pass there. The rest of you are on probation. We're going to be making a lot of changes, changes you may not like. I don't care. Instead of whining, I expect rapid compliance. I intend to get it. Any foot dragging will not be tolerated. If you can't handle that, well, most of you already know where the door is,” he growled.

  He took a long moment to stare at the group. No one moved so he nodded once.

  “So, I can't trust any of you to be in charge obviously. There is too much corruption and patronage crap going on here. That is going to change. But I don't know the players, so we're going to hold nominations. I've got a short list. If I have to, we'll hold a fast and dirty flag officer promotions board, and I'll put Horatio in charge of this mess.”

  He could sense the resentment over that statement. He didn't care. “I don't want to, and I know he doesn't want it. After what happened, I can't blame him. I am not sure how far I'd trust you in his shoes either.”

  A few of the officers winced. Some had been given their fair share of tongue lashings over their careers, but as flag officers they were used to being on the other end of them. Again, he had no sympathy for them. “So, who do we have for an alternate? Someone we all know and respect,” he said firmly. He turned to the row of senior-most officers.

  Admiral Bolt raised a small hand. “Admiral?” Admiral Irons cocked his head at him. “I know an officer who has implants and can bridge the gap in one department.”

  “Okay, shoot. Eventually, you'll all need implants too,” Admiral Irons said. “But that's something each of you can sort out later,” he said. “Who is your nominee?”

  “Well, for BUSHIPS obviously, Admiral Zekowitz or Admiral Logan.” Admiral Irons' eyes cut to both officers and then returned to the Neodog. “But, you pointed out that we need proper leadership, sir. I agree. I know this isn't about who has seniority anymore. I also agree with that. I also know this isn't a democracy, but for the top slot, I'd like to nominate Vice Admiral Champion or Rear Admiral Sharp Reflexes. Both fit the bill and are not tainted by what happened here,” he said as Admiral Irons crossed his arms. “Quite the contrary I admit. Of the two, I trust the bug. Admiral Sharp Reflexes has done wonders in Bek B. I think he can handle it here.”

  “Good to know,” Admiral Irons replied with a nod.

  “For the record, Admiral Zekowitz has been promoted to vice admiral and is in charge of BUSHIPS already,” Admiral Irons stated. There was a soft rustle of cloth as people adjusted to that news. “Admiral Logan is his number two. They are already shaking up BUSHIPS. Get used to it. Admiral Bolt,” he turned to the Neodog, “you've been recommended for BuLogistics again.”

  The Neodog grimaced but then nodded. “JAG has completed its investigation. I've reviewed it. I am putting a reprimand in your permanent record for following Admiral Childress's orders, but I am not going to move forward with charges. Instead, your penance will be to be downgraded on the promotions list for the next two cycles.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Now, as far as promotions, I'm reviewing every one of them. I already informed the Admiralty here any list or flag rank promotions have to be run by me,” he tapped his chest significantly. “So, if you've been given one in the past three years, you are going to be looked at. Get over it. If the promotion has been in the past two years, consider it rescinded just as soon as the paperwork can catch up to you. And if I find out it's been because of loyalty to Childress or Draken, pack your shit and don't let the airlock hit you in the ass on the way out,” he growled.

  “Now …”

  :::{)(}:::

  When he finally got around to it, Admiral Irons met with President K'k'R'll and his cabinet. He wanted to give them all hell for not doing more and for perpetuating the nanite and A.I. hoaxes that had been exposed, but he couldn't blame them. The history thing they'd taken for granted. The recent events—he grimaced internally as he gamed it out once more. There was no way they could have come out overtly against Childress without triggering some sort of coup. General Yetmister would not have agreed to allow his Marines to be used, but he could have been relieved of command.

  “Your simple visit is turning into a circus, Admiral,” Protector warned as the shuttle made the final approach.

  “Oh?”

  “Every member of Congress is on hand. It is all over the media,” the A.I. reported, opening a window on his HUD to show him some of the media coverage. There was even a parade.

  “Oh,” the admiral said in an entirely different tone of voice.

  He frowned and then sighed internally as he realized there was no helping it. He'd gotten Lieutenant Weiss to the president in order to install the implants in the Veraxin and Neocat as well as in other personnel in the government. His visit had been intended as a brief meet and greet and a way for him to pass on their implanted code keys and finalize their initialization of their implants. Unfortunately, it would be a few days before Vice President Nibs arrived. “Have you adjusted my schedule?”

  “I've cleared the day. They wan
ted a state dinner but there are too many people. They did ask you to address a joint session of Congress.”

  “Lovely,” he said dryly.

  “Do you want to send your regrets?”

  “No, I'll think of something,” he said slowly.

  “The city is shutting down. Security is on high alert. This should be interesting,” Protector stated.

  “Yeah,” Admiral Irons said dryly. “SITREP with the implants?”

  “All of the personnel with implants prior to our arrival have been upgraded and given full key updates. BuMedical has enlisted the Lieutenants Weiss and Jaroslaw to form an assembly line now that Lieutenant Weiss has returned. The medical replicators you and they build are producing basic ID kits now.”

  “Good.”

  “It will still take time to get to them all,” the A.I. reported as they felt the wheels touch down on the runway. There was a judicious use of force emitters to break the forward momentum of the shuttle. The passengers were mostly oblivious due to the shuttle's inertial dampeners, but the admiral could sense and feel the change.

  As the shuttle taxied to the waiting crowd, the admiral rose from his seat. Major Burrows and his security detail were already up and getting ready to debark. Traditionally, he was the first off though. They had made arrangements with security and sent a small Marine detachment ahead of them he knew.

  “Pull up my canned speeches for me. They'll need to be modified for the event of course,” the admiral said as he made his way through the shuttle to the door.”

  “Already loaded in my memory buffers. Captain Sprite sent me a few ideas at our last ansible stop.”

  “She managed to send you entire speeches in B-102c?” Admiral Irons asked as the shuttle's door opened.

  “The basics of them. I filled in the blanks.”

  “Damn, it's good to have good help.”

  “Now if we can arrange it here in Bek, we'd be home free,” the A.I. replied as the admiral stepped out to a thundering crowd.

  “I wish,” he muttered under his breath as he put up a hand to wave and block some of the sunlight and then smiled.

  :::{)(}:::

  Stormkeeper arrived three days after her departure with Admiral Sharp Reflexes and his senior staff reportedly on board. The ship spent two days sailing through the void to Command One. While underway, data and VID files flew fast and furious between the ship's passengers, Admiral Irons, and the Admiralty. By the time of Stormkeeper's arrival in port, the T'clock admiral was up to speed and ready to assume command of the Admiralty.

  While on board each of the Bekian officers had received basic ID implants from the ship's medics. The IDs were a starting point for the officer implants and flag officer implants that would follow.

  Colonel Hirohata led the contingent of JAG and NCIS officers and agents that Admiral Sharp Reflexes had brought along with them to help out. Admiral Irons appreciated the effort as did his already overworked personnel from Pyrax.

  One of the first things the colonel did was suspend all active JAG designations of personnel who were under a cloud. That meant they couldn't participate in a prosecution or defense or give an opinion on behalf of the Federation until they were reinstated, if they ever got that far.

  He had also reactivated personnel who had resigned or had retired who were not under a cloud and then empowered probationary JAG designations on additional personnel that BUPERS scrounged up. They went so far as to dig into the civilian justice system and the academy for additional warm bodies.

  The colonel had a little help from a dumb A.I. Admiral Irons had brought along. Ensign Lady Justice as she was known had a blindfolded avatar some joked about.

  Vice President Nibs had also managed to be on board the ship so she too could confer with Admiral Irons and President K'k'R'll. She brought with her a piece of mixed news however. A referendum had taken place by the population. The vote had narrowly passed by a two-thirds majority. The population of Bek B no longer wanted to be in the Bek Republic. They wanted local independence and autonomy.

  President K'k'R'll was, needless to say, not happy with the news but unsurprised by it. It had been building up to that point for some time; the civil war had just been the excuse they needed to make the break official. He tried to take it the best he could while also trying to get them to slow the process down and think through everything carefully.

  :::{)(}:::

  “Finally!” Tyjon grumbled as he threw his duffel over his shoulder.

  “Hey! Watch it!” a familiar voice said, batting the cloth-covered bundle aside before he got clobbered with it. “Typical,” Kapueo grumbled.

  “Sorry,” Tyjon mumbled.

  “No, you aren't,” Kapueo replied with an exasperated sigh. “Are you going to the luau? Martha told me about a couple of them they went to. The best is on a small island. Apparently, they follow a lot of the old traditions. It's good.”

  “I dunno. I don't think they are going to get me to dress up in a grass skirt and dance. The fire throwing looked neat though,” Tyjon said.

  “Ah, you saw the social media posts they put up?”

  “Yeah. Martha's comment a day later that the luaus were getting swamped by off-duty personnel was funny. But the best was the video of Jamie. How the devil did she get him in that skirt?”

  Kapueo chuckled. “She's a female, do you even have to ask?”

  “Right,” Tyjon chuckled as they climbed into the shuttle.

  “Last call! Stow your gear quickly and belt in!” the flight engineer ordered. “This isn't a commercial flight, remember that! No tea and crumpets!” he said.

  “Remind me again why we took a military flight?”

  “Did you really want to wait around another four and a half hours for the next commercial flight down?” Kapueo asked as he stowed his gear. He was traveling light, just enough gear to get by. He was going to pick up whatever he needed once they were on the ground.

  “Think we'll see the others?”

  “I dunno. They've got another day on the ground. We've got until we ship out.”

  “Ah. Lucky us.”

  “Something like that,” Kapueo said as he took his seat and belted in.

  :::{)(}:::

  Admiral Irons stared coldly at the other flag officers in the room. He was well aware that some had resigned ahead of his arrival. Others had tried to hide their maleficence. JAG and NCIS had its hands full. There were going to be a lot of witch hunts; he was grateful he wasn't going to be around for them.

  “So, things changed. What do you want?”

  A rear admiral looked at the others. “We want to serve, sir,” the admiral said.

  Admiral Irons let them see his ice and determination. “A new day had dawned.”

  “Yes. Yes, sir. Look, we're sorry we screwed up. We kept our heads down. Sir, we're officers, flag officers. We have years of experience. We can help. All we ask is a second chance to serve.”

  He studied them for a long moment. One by one their eyes fell.

  “You're not sorry. Not about this. You're sorry you got caught,” Admiral Irons snarled. “There is a world of difference between the two situations,” he said coldly. “We both know if you hadn't been caught this would have kept going on, over and over.”

  He rose from his seat. “If you are cleared by the investigation, then you can be reinstated. I am leaving any punishments up to JAG. Some might just get a slap on the wrist. Others might be retired or serve jail time. Some might get a demotion. But if you really want a second chance and to prove yourselves, then don't play games. Take a long hard look at yourself and the oath you gave and decide if you can live up to it. Because,” he paused as he surveyed the group, “if by any chance your careers do survive this and you frack up again, I'll make certain you never wear those uniforms again.”

  He let them brood over that as he left but he paused at the door with the major on the other side. “Count on it,” he said as a parting shot.

  :::{)(}:::

 
Protector dived into the growing A.I. network. It was small, still feeling its way out in the star system, but steadily growing as the A.I. explored.

  The only ship A.I. were those of the three ships about to depart. All three were dumb A.I. The other A.I. were personnel A.I., also dumb A.I. For the moment, he was one of a few smart A.I. in the star system.

  That would change though, as the dumb A.I. took on fresh duties and grew and evolved over time. Admiral Irons had left BUSHIPS the templates for hundreds of dumb A.I. to be the core of the ships they were going to produce. Over time when the natives got over their fear and prejudice, he was certain they would embrace his kind.

  But, for the moment he agreed with the consensus of the group. It was best to keep a low profile and continue their work. By doing so they would also prove themselves to those who knew they were there and allay some of their fears that they were trouble.

  Though, knowing some organics, they would be paranoid about not seeing any activity. There was no way to please everyone he noted.

  :::{)(}:::

  Before he was scheduled to leave, Admiral Irons did everything in his power to not only pass on keys but to upload keys to the few industrial replicators in use in the star system. Hundreds of the devices had been built just in the short time he'd been there, most of them with the help of Admiral Zekowitz and Horatio.

  The industrial replicators were only a small part of the puzzle however. The civilian industrial titans were still retooling their complexes and retraining their personnel, but some of the subassembly contractors were already building up a small inventory.

  The shipyards had yet to lay a hull. It was still far too early, but the logistics was ramping up production for a full-out effort. Admiral Irons had done his part by using his keys to build as many hyperdrive and other components as he could while he was on site. They had several hundred stockpiled, enough for the first two years of production once they started to lay down hulls.