Court-Martial (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 2)

by Chris Hechtl

  Admiral Childress threatened to have the T'clock admiral, as well as others who had talked out of turn against him, recalled to uniform and court-martialed. An email from JAG passed the warning around to them. That shut them up until the email went public.

  “Like rats deserting a ship,” Admiral Childress said as fresh resignations rained on his attempt at feeling at least a little closure over shutting the haters up. They weren't leaving so much in drips as they were droves, dozens, hundreds, thousands of them. It was playing hell with the manning tables he knew.

  “Be glad they are gone; we can fill their positions with our own people,” Admiral N'r'm'll stated.

  “And they aren't there sharpening a knife to stab in our back,” Admiral Childress agreed.

  “But that leaves the ones we don't know to do it. And we're having enough problems as it is,” Admiral Draken stated.

  @^@

  Rear Admiral Jean Callisto was forced to take over BuShips from Admiral Creator of Things when the bug resigned in protest. She was a human chimera, with long pointed ears dating back to her mixed high elf parentage, and her flat feline nose, downy spotted fur, and split lip.

  She had been the T'Clock's protégé for many years; however, her family worked for several of the civilian shipyards subcontractors. Two owed favors to Childress Industries. She had been promised a lucrative career as a manager once she retired from the navy but only if she didn't rock the boat. She did her best to keep her people calm and settle into her new role, though she regretted how she had gotten it.

  She checked the reports and then grimaced at what she had found. It wasn't news to her, but she knew others wouldn't like it. She checked the time. The next staff meeting was set for the following Monday. That was fine with her; it would give her some time to get her house in order.

  Gods of space knew she'd need every second of the weekend to try to make some headway in that regard. Given the situation and how the personnel were in flux how much progress was supremely doubtful however, but she was determined to give it her best shot.

  @^@

  On Sunday, retired Vice Admiral Latiff Revere was cornered by the media while he was off duty with his family. The vice admiral was well-known for his time in uniform. He was also well-known as a talking head in the media who had strangely gone silent. Instead of giving a composed no comment he tried some spin control. “This is all a big misunderstanding. Given the distances involved, things like that can happen. Admiral Irons can't be fully aware of what goes on here, and micromanaging Bek is wrong. Given time it will blow over and cooler heads will prevail. Please be patient and bear with us.”

  “With us, so you are with Admiral Childress and his faction?” The reporter asked, pouncing on his statement.

  “I … can't say at this time. I need to go,” the man said as he ducked away. His wife looked back, looking troubled, but her husband took her firmly by the arm and kept them going.

  “And there you have it,” The reporter said, turning back to the camera. “This is Hypatia Kin reporting. Back to you in the studio.”

  @^@

  Many of the retired officers who acted as talking heads for the media were split on what to do. Sometimes it all came down to the network they supported, but not all was as it seemed. Some were former patrons of some of the officers still in uniform. In a few cases, some had been wronged by them or driven out. Some supported Admiral Childress's position and right for Bek Republic independence. It was clear a few hoped that their support might be rewarded later. Others insisted he should resign, right or wrong, for the good of the navy and Bek.

  Polls started to be run on whether or not Bek should go independent. They were divided depending on who was asked and by whom. There was no clear majority, or if there was, the numbers were intentionally made vague in subsequent reporting.

  @^@

  Admiral Childress plotted various distractions to turn the public back his way. It took time before he hit upon the idea to create an incident with nanotech to get everyone firmly on his side. The new tech was dangerous, everyone knew that. There were enough horror stories about it, both in the past from the outer Federation as well as the last nanotech disaster that had happened right in Bek A well over six centuries prior. That wasn't fresh on everyone's minds, but a little juicing with the media might get them primed and remembering it when his show went off.

  If he showed just how dangerous it could be, then it would prove he had a valid point for dragging his feet with upgrading Bek and distributing the tech far and wide. After all, Nanotech was feared as much as fire and predators. Everyone, even predators, had a healthy fear of being eaten.

  The problem was he didn't know how to go about manufacturing an incident, nor how to keep control of it somehow. He didn't care about a body count as long as he and his strongest supporters were not involved.

  He planned to keep Sherman and the staff out of it, fearful of what the chimera would do. Besides, the fewer people that knew the better.

  He had to keep the plot tightly confined to people he absolutely trusted. A trip through his secret files for people who owed him special no-questions-asked favors who could pull it off yielded a few results. That meant he limited it to a certain branch within ONI and Captain Bailey, an early supporter of his who hated the new technology with a passion.

  But first, first his people had to find a means to make it happen and the right opportunity to do so.

  @^@

  The mass resignations continued up the chain of command as some officers realized they couldn't govern their commands effectively. Many rebelled against the situation, refusing orders with a simple statement that “you aren't in my chain of command, sorry.” They were eventually relieved of command, but that took time. The disruption was a serious problem for Admiral Draken's operations department.

  The resignations started to hit the senior staff with an argument breaking out again. Admiral Draken, Shren, and N'r'm'll, and others backed Childress.

  Admiral Heals Quickly, head of BUMED, resigned in protest. Vice Admiral Ss'k'ttthhh and Brigadier General Yetmister declared their neutrality, though the vice admiral was clearly on Omar's side.

  Admiral Childress considered having his supporters kill the Naga to keep him from saying anything but backed off on the idea. Even if it worked, and there was no proof such an attempt would, there were no telling what sort of booby traps the admiral had set up in case of his untimely demise. Or hell, it could all be triggered if the damn snake died from food poisoning. No, he was in enough trouble already.

  @^@

  It took several days before Colton finally summoned the duo to his office. Once they were in, he nodded. “Good work you two. Now, let's get through this again. From the top,” he said as they each took a seat. He took notes as he debriefed Gemma and Fitz. When they finished, he paused and looked at a pad he'd written notes and questions on. “So, did either of you speak with Irons directly?”

  “No, sir.”

  “So how does the ansible work? Did you use it?”

  “We get a transmission in bits, ones and zeros,” Fitz explained, “by spinning half muons one way or another.” He used his hands to try to demonstrate the concept.

  “Okay …?”

  “The problem is the rapids make it difficult to transport the muons. So, they had to set up the platform in B-102c. There are only a couple left,” Gemma said, taking a turn.

  “I knew that,” Colton replied. “The orders? And how about voice?”

  “No voice or visual. What they worked out is a shorthand. It's a throwback to old-fashioned Morse code in a way. They send a text with the dialog, the computer on each end reads it in the person's voice. They added a talking head too. Quite ingenious really,” Fitz replied, effecting a Scottish bur in his voice.

  “That's it,” Colton replied, eyes lighting up. “That's our in.”

  “Sir?”

  “That's it. Don't you see? He didn't specifically
pass on the orders, a computer did.”

  “But, sir, that's how it was set up.”

  “Yes, but there could be anyone on the other end!”

  “With the admiral's authentication codes?”

  “Yes! We have access to them to verify his transmissions, right?” Colton replied. “They are encrypted with his personal key, right?”

  “But, sir, some of the personnel have met the man. It won't wash,” Gemma reminded him.

  “Don't worry about that. But this, this is what we needed. Good work you two.”

  “Sir, I don't know. I mean if we get caught up in this, eventually we'll get in deep trouble.”

  “Don't worry about it—above your pay grade,” Colton replied, tapping at his keyboard as he wrote an email.

  “Sir …”

  “If it comes to that, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. Now get out of here you two, go enjoy yourselves. I'll get back to you with a new assignment later,” he said.

  The duo looked at each other dubiously, then left the room quietly.

  Colton kept typing until they left, then paused. He frowned. “They are going native. I was afraid of that,” he murmured.

  Chapter 14

  The following Monday the Admiralty staff assembled to assess the damage. The news wasn't good on the face of it, Sherman thought, aware that each of his fellow admirals were dancing around the subject or being intentionally vague in order to cover for themselves or each other. But, they stuck to protocol and went around the room listening to each department head anyway. Somehow it had to break. The truth had to come out. The problem was, did they really know how badly the damage was or were they being vague because of they didn't? He wasn't certain.

  He looked over to Admiral Ss'k'ttthhh. The Naga closed two of his eyes. He was set to go last, but there remained the question if they'd get to the Naga—most likely not. That might be a good thing since most of ONI's spy activities had been centered on their own people and would most likely continue to be that way for the foreseeable future.

  Come to think of it, perhaps personal briefings from Ss'k'ttthhh or Hill would be nice. Something quiet and let him keep his briefs to the staff vague. Of the two, most likely it would be Hill he thought. Admiral Ss'k'ttthhh was keeping a decidedly low profile, sticking to the shadows and allowing Hill to sit in for him during the Admiralty meetings.

  He also made a mental note to make certain the Neochimp didn't coach her terminology with an us against the outer Federation vibe. They had enough trouble with their people as it was; there was no need to make more trouble for themselves by falling into that line of thinking. Heaven forbid if it came out into the open! It was bad enough that it was being bandied about by the fringe media as it was.

  Now, if he could just get that point across to Omar …. he fought a grimace as he glanced at the human at the head of the table and then away.

  “The good news is, the mass resignations have cut back on the competition for the remaining slots. And with so many ships laid up for upgrades, we can man most of the ships currently in active service. For how long though is a good question …” Rear Admiral Callisto stated, opening her part of the meeting as she shook her head and looked over to Admiral Nr'm'll, the head of BUPERS. The bug flicked his antenna at her in mild agreement.

  Jean had decided, after a long examination of her conscience, to remain in the Admiralty and nominally follow Childress and Draken. After all, someone had to keep a hand on the tiller. She knew she was going to catch flack over it. Shit always did run downhill. Most of it would be piled on Admiral Childress of course and then on to Admiral Draken for not relieving him.

  Undoubtedly, she'd catch her share, perhaps more than her fair share, but maybe, if she was supremely lucky when the shitstorm was well past, she might still have a job. Maybe even the job she currently occupied. Plus, with regen on the horizon, she might be able to hold onto it for decades or more.

  That was the only comforting thought and the only reason she could stomach putting up with Omar and his bullshit.

  She had no idea what Childress held on Draken to allow him to continue leading the navy even though Irons himself had ordered him to be fired. She knew Draken's neck was in the noose right alongside their nominal boss though. Hill as well she thought, glancing at the Neochimp and then away.

  Her boss Admiral Creator of Things had been a good bug. But he hadn't been able to stand Childress once the broadcast had hit home. She knew that. She also knew he wasn't happy about refitting obsolete ships. A majority of them should be scrapped.

  Her predecessor had made minor upgrades, most of it in anticipation of allowing the personnel to train on the hardware in anticipation of eventually upgrading to true starships. But that hadn't happened.

  “Money is getting tight; we're already well over budget with the refits,” Admiral Draken rumbled.

  “We should scrap the ships that are too old for an easy refit and settle on the newer ones. And halt all production of new ships,” Jean stated.

  She wasn't prepared for the glare from Admiral Childress but did her best to answer his glower with a level calm gaze. He didn't like her in charge of BUSHIPS, but he had no choice. She was next in seniority and hadn't resigned in favor of someone he knew better. She was borderline insubordinate to him and tended to refer decisions to Admiral Draken instead of him as if he wasn't in the room. Both knew the lack of ship contracts was a sore point with his mother and the other shipyard owners who were backing him.

  Really, what she was doing was testing the waters. She did her best not to appear to hold her breath as they all waited to see what Omar would do. Would he be stupid enough to send her packing? Did he have a choice?

  Admiral Childress clenched and unclenched his fists under the table as he tried to put a lid on his temper. He was tempted to send her packing or to have Admiral Shren draw up charges and court-martial her as well, but Sherman and Patty had talked him repeatedly out of that impulsive act. He ground his teeth and then took a deep breath before he said anything.

  “No, we're not cutting back on production. That will be highly disruptive to our suppliers and the economy.”

  “The refits are taking up much of that slack and then some,” Admiral Draken interjected.

  Omar turned a “who's side are you on glower” his way. The red Chimera just ignored it.

  “The answer is no. The matter is closed. Move on.”

  “Okay, well,” Jean said as she turned to Admiral N'r'm'll. “I think I'm stealing some of BUPERS thunder so …,” she nodded to him. “You have the floor, Admiral.”

  “Thank you,” the Veraxin said, signaling second-degree thanks and agreement. There was an undertone of relief in his gestures as well, most likely that the argument hadn't come to someone getting relieved. “As Admiral Callisto pointed out, the competition for the remaining ship slots has decreased due to the … downsizing of the fleet,” the Veraxin said diplomatically. “The downsizing has caused problems in some areas.”

  “Such as?” Admiral Childress demanded.

  “The officer corps has been disrupted as has the chain of command. But the real impact is in enlisted and especially noncommissioned personnel. Personnel who have their contracts up are not re-upping despite the incentives we're dangling out there. We're hemorrhaging experienced personnel, and the people moving into their slots are still learning their jobs. It is starting to effect operations and other places,” the Veraxin said.

  “He's right,” Admiral Draken stated. Admiral Childress glanced at him and then away.

  “The noncom losses are especially troubling since we have so much invested in their training. They are the true guiding hand in the navy. They nurture the enlisted while also executing the orders of the officers above them. I've received a lot of complaints about it.”

  “If they go, they go,” Admiral Childress replied with a feigned shrug of indifference. “We'll make it up.”

  “We could retain some forcefully. For the good
of the service,” Admiral Hill suggested.

  “They are already at the breaking point. They don't want to be in and resent the hell out of what we're doing. If push comes to shove we'll be in more trouble than we're already in. I don't want a junior shoving a knife in our back,” the Veraxin stated.

  “So, they go. Period,” Admiral Childress replied flatly. The Neochimp admiral seemed ready to object but eventually gave it up as a lost cause and settled herself down. She turned back to the Veraxin, wondering what else was coming.

  “Morale is rock bottom,” the Veraxin continued. “And not likely to pick up.”

  “We can work on that. We have a series of exercises planned, plus the fleet grading and war games in two months,” Admiral Draken stated. “Morale always picks up around then.”

  “Actually, Admiral, it is usually on an upward slope at this time as preparations are made for the training,” Admiral N'r'm'll, the Veraxin head of BUPERS corrected him. “We're seeing the exact opposite. And the trend is speeding up. If it gets too ingrained, we'll have serious discipline problems.”

  “People are slacking off. Officers aren't training as they should,” Rear Admiral C'v'll, the Veraxin academy commandant and acting head of BuSchools said.

  “Then we need to come down on them. Set a few examples. Put the fear of us into them so they know who is boss again. Restore order and they'll come around. They won't like it, but I'm fine with that,” Admiral Childress said. He looked at the elf in their midst, Admiral Shren, the Judge Advocate General, also known as TJAG.

  “My investigators are tapped out all over the fleet,” he stated calmly. He didn't bother to mention NCIS was still scrambling to stay together after ONI's stunt. “We are also handling problems of insubordination and a lot of the discharges. It has quite frankly overwhelmed the legal system at this point. Many are deliberately acting up to get a Big Chicken Dinner.”