Tales of the Federation Reborn 1

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Tales of the Federation Reborn 1 Page 80

by Chris Hechtl


  “That would be me,” she replied, finishing her scotch off before she set the glass down on the tray nearby.

  “You aren't serious. You are aware this will terminate your political career here, right?” Lars demanded. “Just when things will be shaking up? Hitting a golden period as some are predicting? You'll miss out on that and the credit,” he warned.

  “I'm looking long term, at the big picture,” Moira said with an indifferent shrug.

  “I see,” Lars said carefully. “And your family?”

  “Well, mom's dead, dad's in an assisted living facility, and my siblings are off with their own lives. I see them on the holidays since our schedules and lives don't intersect. I'll certainly miss them,” she said with a frown. “But I'll make it up to my nieces and nephews when I get back.”

  That made Lars crack a smile. “Planning to buy out a gift shop as compensation for your absence? I've tried that.”

  “And the bribe worked,” she said, smiling back. “A lot can be forgiven as long as you get the right gift,” she said. “Throw in stories of your adventures and pictures and they'll be excited and in awe,” she finished. He nodded. She made a brushing motion. “But that's something for later.”

  “Well, if you are going to do this, I suppose now is the time. The election is next year. You will be the senior civilian administrator going.”

  “Who is going from the military side?” Moira asked. Please don't let it be Zekowitz, she thought.

  “Well, you aren't the only one full of surprises it seems,” Lars said smiling. “I should make you wait, you'd enjoy the surprise, but I suppose you'd find out through your own sources,” he said.

  She crossed her arms and looked down her nose at him.

  His smile broadened slightly. He spread his hands. “Oh, what the hey. Admiral Zekowitz,” she groaned, “is being joined by Admiral Sienkov,” he said. That cut her groan off and made her stare at him in shock and surprise. He shrugged at her expression. “Apparently he's keen to get his hands into the military side and definitely get into the war. He's stepping down as CNO and secretary of the navy of course.”

  “Of course.”

  “He's going onto voluntary reserve for the duration of the flight, though Admiral Irons might tap him on the other side. Who knows,” Lars said with a shrug.

  “I'll miss you, you old grumpy bear,” Moira teased.

  “You aren't gone yet,” he mock growled. “And yeah, I'll miss arguing with you too, little lady,” Lars replied. “What I won't miss is the anxiety your scheming induces,” he said. She chuckled. “Though I probably should be anxious since you're moving into a much bigger political arena,” he observed.

  Her eyes narrowed.

  He chuckled. “I'm not the only one who has noted you are … ambitious Moira. And you are. And I'm also aware that things will change, not necessarily for the better,” he said, putting a hand up. “Once the medical side starts to get its feet under it.” She inhaled and exhaled sharply, making her nostrils dilate. “And you aren’t the only one to consider that factor, just the first to act. Hopefully not in haste, but I believe you thought your plan through.”

  “I'm still working out the details. There is too much of an unknown on the other side. And we have to get there first,” She said cautiously.

  “That you do,” the senator said soberly. He frowned then leaned over to her as his voice dropped into a conspiring tone. “You might do well to steer Admiral Sienkov and Caroline into a visit to Nuevo. It'll help you dust off some diplomatic skills there, make an impact there, and it'll go a ways with the Federation long term to bring them in as well. Save time and all that,” he said, leaning back. “You'll have them and Bek in your corner for whatever you go after in the political pond there. Just remember, you're throwing your hat in early, but there are already a lot of worlds established in the Federation now.”

  “And more coming every day. So we need to get our foot in the door. Get our place at the table. Especially if we're going to be the backbone of the Federation. Don't you think we deserve a place?”

  He nodded. They both knew it was more than that, more than patriotism driving her. Self-serving interests and a desire to be in power was a part and parcel of politics no matter what they clothed it in.

  She frowned, and then nodded. “I'll think about it,” she answered.

  “You do that.”

  * * * *

  Captain Perth was aware that there was a great deal of discussion on what to do and how to go about making changes in the Bek society. He was just glad the President finally let the media know that Caroline had arrived.

  That had been a secret fear of his, that they'd take the gifts, then sequester the crew, make them disappear, and then tear Caroline apart. He was glad the paranoia could be put to rest now that they were in the public eye.

  There wasn't much of a backlash at keeping them hidden. The talking heads were a bit annoyed, but he could see it going over well, at least initially. They were probably still getting over the consternation at finally being no longer alone in the galaxy once more he thought.

  “Give them time and they'll come around to finger pointing; they always do,” Admiral Sienkov said cynically.

  “Undoubtedly, sir,” the captain observed.

  “Did you like your meeting with Professor Windswept?”

  “The doctor? I'm still at a loss on the titles to be honest, sir,” the captain said cautiously. He'd indeed met the High Elf sleeper, the senior most sleeper left alive. She had been rather quiet and reserved.

  “She's … quiet,” he said carefully.

  “I'm wondering if she is concerned she is no longer needed,” the admiral said. The captain frowned. “For ages she's been the last word on the Federation and technology. She's been awoken during political or other crises and then put to work solving the problem or finding a solution we missed. She is rather good at it.”

  “I … see, sir.”

  “Now she might not think she is needed. I'm not sure. I know the president's office is tapping her to go over the downloads.”

  “I see, sir. Did she by any chance get a chance to look them over before our meeting?”

  “No, she wanted it cold like that. To see you without any prejudices,” the admiral said. He shrugged at the captain's expression. “Her words not mine.”

  “Oh.” Captain Perth shrugged and sipped his drink. “Is she going to be one of the delegates?”

  “Gods of space no,” the captain replied, chuckling. “What gave you that idea? We wouldn't risk her blue hide. No.” He shook his head.

  “Oh.”

  “We'll figure it out. We always do,” the admiral exhaled, admiring his glass and the ice within. “You are quite famous. You've got requests coming into the naval public affairs office. Thousands for interviews.”

  “I heard, sir. And a couple marriage proposals,” the captain said with a laugh.

  “Don't laugh, I bet some are serious,” the admiral said, cracking a smile.

  “Loren would kill me, sir. Or at the least have me castrated for even thinking about it,” the captain said. That earned another chuckle from the admiral.

  “Yeah, Spouses can be like that,” the admiral murmured. “Especially if you leave them for a long deployment,” he observed. “Absence does make the heart grow fonder,” he said before taking a sip of scotch.

  “A very long one in this case, sir. A dangerous one, but she knew who and what she was marrying so she can't complain about that,” he said, wrinkling his nose. Which was true, but she had probably thought that he'd be deployed in the yard or on the defense in Pyrax, not sent abroad. “She's a college professor at Anvil College. I didn't get much time with her on leave. Not nearly as much as I would have liked and certainly not as much as she would have liked,” he said wryly. Which was true, but she hadn't known he'd be coming back. She'd tried to re-arrange her schedule but he'd had to leave right around the time the final terms were being handed out. He shook his head
. “I've got a lot of leave time accumulated. She's going to want to kick my ass into the nearest airlock after a week or two of me using it.”

  “Probably just to get you to stop moping about being bored and underfoot,” the admiral observed, grinning. The captain chuckled. “I see some things never change there either.”

  “No sir, they don't,” the captain said, eyes straying to the television and the media broadcast. The sound was off but he could see the talking heads and the people in the background going apeshit. Some literally depending on the species. They were wildly popular it seemed.

  “I'm surprised it didn't slip out earlier,” Admiral Sienkov said, shaking his head in wonder once the news release hit its stride. The media going wild was putting it mildly. Everyone had given up on the Federation ever returning. One of the reasons they hadn't invested in starship technology was the desire not to draw the Xeno wrath down upon themselves.

  Now that was all swept under the rug apparently, all in the heat of the moment.

  He was looking forward to going, if only to get his own eyes on the raw intel. He wanted to know just what had happened to the Xenos in the Milky Way. He highly doubted they'd just upped and left to save their homeworlds in their own galaxy.

  Even if they'd taken most of their fleets, they could have left something behind. An automated fleet to continue where they'd left off. Which wasn't a pleasant thought, but one that had to be considered and dealt with carefully.

  “It did in the military communities I bet. That's natural. I too am surprised it lasted this long, especially with your numbers. You would have thought someone would have told a spouse with loose lips or something,” Captain Perth said.

  “I see some things haven't changed,” the elderly admiral said wryly.

  “No sir. And the media and public keeping us on our toes and some people honest is probably a good thing. At least they tell themselves that on a daily basis,” the captain said, smiling. The admiral snorted.

  * * * *

  Once they were made official, Captain Perth and his officers took a rather public tour of some of the ships and facilities. The yard was fascinating as were some of the changes that were being wrought. “As we speak engineering teams are going over the databases you brought with you. We're working out how best to slot in this technology without major disruptions to everything,” Admiral Zekowitz stated.

  “I see that, sir. I noticed some modular components, but some will need a redesign once smaller more efficient components come into use.”

  “We tried to be modular throughout, but we had to design around existing components of course. Fortunately, we kept the Federation standards like universal data ports, coding, airlocks, markings, and such. But some things we carefully avoided.”

  “I was wondering about that. You could do more with replicators. I was, well, quite frankly surprised you didn't try for them. You have the basic understandings,” the ship captain said, indicating the industrial center they were touring. “And you have the research and development ability. Plus, you know it's been done before and even how.”

  “But we haven't taken it that far,” the admiral said as Captain Bailey seemed annoyed. “I know.” He turned to indicate the molecular furnace. “Everything you see here has been built up the hard traditional way just as Admiral Irons taught us. It's helped us avoid some of the pitfalls the Federation, the old Federation fell into. It is our way of learning from our shared past while avoiding them,” he explained.

  Captain Perth nodded. Behind and off to his left a small molecular furnace was tearing apart a wad of asteroid. There were hundreds of such furnaces, all running in rows around the gantry they were walking along. Each took in a chunk of heated raw material; super heated it until it was molten, then spun it to allow the materials to gradually band together like an ancient jaw breaker. Then robotic arms peeled the ball, sending each layer of raw material to be further refined and processed until only a core of silicon was left. That was either fed into a fusion reactor or used in electronics.

  With the tech they'd brought along, the Bekians could eventually create grav emitters to replace the robotic arms. They could then spin and tear apart the raw material without even having to touch it. That would save time and a lot of wear on equipment.

  But it was complex. The grav emitters came from a complex tech base and would require careful monitoring and eventual maintenance to keep their peak efficiency. All of that meant an investment. It also meant the simple methods would be sold off or discarded.

  And he'd found that even though the simple methods were brute force and inefficient compared to the Federation's standards, they still got the job done.

  “I can see about a dozen different things that can be done to improve efficiency here and elsewhere,” Chief Galavant said excitedly. He was so excited his tail wagged, slapping Captain Bailey in the leg until he realized his error. “Oh sorry, sir,” he said, glancing at the captain and then to the admiral. “Nanotech will be a major boon.”

  “We don't want it,” Captain Bailey growled instantly.

  Captain Perth frowned thoughtfully as Chief Galavant turned in confusion to the captain.

  “Some things are not worth the cost or risk,” the captain said with a dirty look. “As the admiral said, we're going to learn from our mistakes, nor make new ones.”

  “I … don't quite understand but okay,” the chief engineer said, turning back in confusion to the engineering admiral.

  “A case of too much too soon, Chief,” Captain Perth stated smoothly. “Moving on,” he said, covering the faux pas with a slight motion to the tour leader.

  “As you will, sir,” the lieutenant said. “This way,” she said quietly, motioning them into an open freight elevator. “Please keep your appendages inside the platform. People tend to lose them with alarming frequency when they get excited or whatever,” the lieutenant said.

  “You don't say,” the ship captain said, turning to look out as they rose through the industrial facility. Ranks upon ranks of molecular furnaces passed by, entire levels dedicated to ripping apart the raw materials to feed the higher industrial services.

  “Up until a half century ago, we didn't have artificial gravity in this facility,” the lieutenant said. “If you look down, you'll notice the grating is covering our grav plates. They aren't as efficient as modern standards, but they get the job done. And as the admiral pointed out, we did plan for them and integrated them once the technology became widely available,” she said.

  “I see,” the captain said, looking down. He turned to glance at Angie. She was doing her best to look interested, but he knew her. She was a shooter, straight and simple. Engineering was just the blacksmith forging the weapon for someone like her to wield in the field.

  “I can download my software. I've got some tricks and tools you can use to improve efficiency and cut down on power draw. Squeeze a bit more out of them,” Chief Galavant said, looking at the admiral.

  “Undoubtedly it is in the database and more, Chief,” Captain Bailey said nastily.

  “Possibly,” Captain Perth said, noting the chief engineer's tail and ears droop. He took on a decidedly hangdog expression. His good intentions were working okay with Admiral Zekowitz, but they appeared to nettle others like Captain Bailey he noted. People who were happy with what they'd achieved on their own and proud of it, he thought.

  “Doctor Naroob is with your medics,” Captain Perth said, changing the subject. “Admiral Sienkov arranged liberty for my crew while the politics get sorted out. I'd like to extend my thanks to him as well as to the SPs who will be keeping an eye on them.”

  “They've been bottled up long enough. They're liable to go off like a loose warhead once they reach port and the first strip of bars,” Angie said, rolling her eyes.

  That earned an earthy chuckle from some of the delegation. “Sailors are like that. I'm glad to see we've got something else in common,” Admiral Zekowitz said. “They are going to be mobbed by the media and
well wishers.”

  “I wouldn't be surprised, sir. And I'm betting a few will come back with shit eating grins and some rather interesting stories to tell each other in the head,” Angie said, rolling her eyes again.

  “Again common ground,” the admiral replied with another chuckle. “Chief, when we get a chance, I'd like to pick your brain on what we can do. In fact, write up a full report. It might help wiser heads decide what we can get into quickly and what may take longer and more thought to sort out.”

  “Thank you, sir,” the chief said.

  * * * *

  “It's gratifying to see so many species,” Doctor Naroob said, nodding to a few medics in passing. He'd signed enough autographs his hand was starting to ache. Hopefully someone hadn't slipped him some document or loan application in the mix; he'd been so harried he wasn't sure.

  “The Leaf Bugs, Flea Leggers, High Elves, and others have a lot to do with that,” Doctor Haven said. The neochimp scratched behind her ear then shrugged.

  “Oh?”

  “Leaf Bugs are exquisite geneticists. They were brought on to handle some of the terraforming duties with the High Elves,” his tour guide explained patiently. “They sequestered the artificial wombs we had to rebuild the populations of the species with the least number while also securing and maintaining genetic samples to maintain biodiversity. They did some modifications to keep the species, including their own, from dying out as well.”

  “I see,” the doctor said, nodding. His eyes caught sight of a cluster of Leaf Bugs in the quad outside the window. There were four, and they looked like the insects they were. They were vertical, a triangular shape with four legs underneath and two arms in front of their four eye stalks. Their vertical sides were covered in bio-engineered algae that helped to feed them. They were accomplished farmers. It was no surprise that they'd been brought in to handle the plant side of the terraforming projects.

  What was surprising was that they'd extended their skills in microbiology and genetics to biology. He frowned then a stray memory dropped into place as he re-read their entry in the medical files he had in his implants. It shouldn't have been he thought, noting the entry on how they'd bioengineered themselves several times before the Xeno war. Their work on their own gill slits to allow them to breathe regular air as well as filter out toxins and breathe various atmospheres was well documented.

 

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