by Chris Hechtl
“I see,” he said slowly, suddenly wary.
“The idea is to have it in case you get picked up by pirates or the Xenos, sir. The Xenos would take you apart or try to turn you into a meat puppet.” The admiral shivered. “Some of the horror stories I've heard about the pirates is almost as bad.”
“I can imagine. I suppose one wouldn't want to have to live through that.”
“Being torn apart in acid? No,” the lieutenant replied. The Neodog's ears went back and his eyes widened. The young woman nodded once. “That's actually mild.”
“Damn.”
“Admiral Irons has set the new standard in flag implants. I don't know the details; unfortunately, most are still classified.”
“I have classification access,” the admiral rumbled.
“I have implants, sir. My implants won't let me get into discussing it with you without a response from your implants.”
“They won't?”
“No, sir.”
“What about other security features?”
“They will monitor you in case you are skirting or breaking the law. If you become a security risk the implants will recommend an investigation.”
“But they can't read your mind?”
“No. Just monitor your feelings. If you feel guilty about doing something for instance, it might raise a flag. I guess there are a lot of false positives for security to sort through every week.”
“Quite possibly.”
“The rest of the implants depend on the user as I mentioned,” she said briskly, changing the subject. “Enhanced strength, changes to your metabolism, Marines get those and some naval officers. They get stronger bones and other things. The order is to give a modular package so they can be adjusted and upgraded later since the navy and Marines are growing so explosively.”
“I see.”
“Enhanced senses, vision, audio, Wi-Fi access. I can get email direct to me. The same for files. It saves time; I don't have to go to a terminal. And I can write files if necessary.”
“Interesting.”
“For a senior officer, it makes securing classified material easier. You get it and you are the only one to access it.”
“Your eyes only indeed.”
“Yes, sir. The HUD is up to the user. Mine allows me to see things in different spectrums. When I do surgery, I can zoom my vision in. I can also overlay a patient's psychical structure over my vision on the fly.”
“Handy,” the admiral murmured.
“It can be, sir, since we have to deal with so many different species. The HUD can feed me the patient's vital signs and alert me if there is a problem. I opted for a few of the extra sensor packages to let me see and feel for problems like blood clots and such.”
“Good to know,” the admiral said as he knitted his fingers in front of him. “What about engineers?”
“Each can be tailored to a specific user. Engineers could have blueprints in their memory. So, you could access them and have an overlay schematic as I described.” the admiral nodded. “They can see hot spots, danger zones, radiation, that sorts of things.”
“All good. Okay then,” he said, making a note.
“Do … you want an implant package, sir?” she asked cautiously.
He looked up and then shook his head. “Me? No. Not at this time.”
“Is there anything else, sir?”
“No, not at this time. That will be all, Lieutenant.”
“Thank you, sir. Have a good day, sir,” she replied as she headed for the door.
“You too, Lieutenant,” he said mildly as he watched her go. When she was gone, he frowned and then pulled up the recording. He would need to save it and then compare it to what they had on file.
@
When Lee left she grimaced as she realized the intent of the admiral. She had wondered about his curiosity, but being called on the spot, she hadn't had time to explore why he was curious. Now, as she walked through the corridors back to the lift, she considered his questions all over again.
She realized that his thrust had been less about implants in general and more aimed at flag officers and engineers. That, she realized belatedly, meant that the information could come back to haunt them or Admiral Logan. Her money was on Admiral Logan. She bit her lip as she realized she couldn't do anything about it either.
@
“Okay, so, we have to work on three strategic situations. The first is with Bek B,” Admiral Draken said, laying out the problems to the staff during their next conference. “The second is internal conflict, which is ongoing and doesn't seem to be letting up. Having an external threat may change that. But, it could make it even worse.”
“And now you want to add the Federation to the mix?” Admiral Callisto asked, quirking an eyebrow upwards.
“We have to,” Admiral Hill pointed out. “We've got no choice based on that transmission.”
“The alleged transmission you mean,” Admiral Culberg said snidely. Admiral Draken shot him a quelling look.
More than one person shifted uncomfortably as Admiral Childress grunted like an irritable boar. A few eyes shifted his way. “Quit needling and get with the program,” Omar growled, lowering a fist to the table. “This is self-defense.”
“No war has ever been won on the defense,” Admiral C'v'll pointed out.
“Oh, we're at war with the Federation now?” Admiral Culberg demanded.
“No. We're not at war, but we need to plan for a possible misguided attack,” Sherman said before Omar or someone else could put his or her foot further in their mouth. He needed a positive experience. “So, this is a way for us to consider our options. I don't want to bring our staffs into this until I'm sure we're all on the same page.”
“I noticed a few missing people,” Admiral Culberg said, turning to the empty seat where the Neogorilla head of the Marines usually sat.
“Let's just say we don't know where everyone's loyalties lie and do not want to push things to far,” Admiral Draken said dryly, shooting Omar an appealing look. “So, let's focus on the Federation for the moment. What do we know? What is working to our advantage?”
“The problem with being on the defense is the attacker has the initiative and can call the shots. The good news is; the Federation can't get through the rapids easily, so we've got time. And we've got plenty of firepower here,” Admiral Callisto said slowly. Heads nodded around the table.
“Yes. But the bad news is, it's Irons. If they do send ships and if we get into a firefight, it will be the final spark for our own internal civil war, if it doesn't blow up sooner. I'm not at all convinced it won't,” Admiral Hill warned.
“It won't come to that. The good thing is; we've already fumigated a lot of critical positions since we took office. And, the resignations are having a side benefit; they are taking people that are against us out of the equation.”
“True.”
“So, what is our end goal here? How do we win if we can't go on the offense? The rapids are a two-edged sword.”
“For the moment, we concentrate on getting our own house in order. Strategically, we make it clear we won't go down. We'll have to do something, find some sort of, I don't know, common ground with the government of course,” Admiral Draken stated. “But we're too big to take out by the Federation.”
“So, we somehow make it clear to Irons we're too big and to leave us alone. Then what? He just goes away tamely?” Admiral Hill demanded.
“Yes.”
“Or, if he doesn't, we let our people who want out to go. That takes them out of the equation. But we are neutral in the conflict, and they can't order us. We're … I guess allies?” Admiral Draken suggested, looking at Admiral Childress. The other man grunted but didn't commit to anything. “It is something we clearly need to work out.”
“Clearly,” the Neochimp drawled.
“I'm wondering about the rest of the nexus. What do we do about it?” Admiral Draken asked.
“We need to do som
ething about the Harbor Station,” Admiral Hill said slowly. “Our people are there. It isn't right to leave them high and dry. Also, securing that star system means we keep the cork in the bottleneck.”
“And Nuevo? What about them?” Admiral Draken asked.
“We can either get them on our side, invade, or leave them alone. I'm not sure,” the Neochimp said lamely.
“Clearly more thought is in order,” Admiral Childress said snidely. The Neochimp flushed slightly at having her taunt thrown back at her.
“The problem is we can't project much power. We've got three hyperdrives, plus parts that were salvaged. Three starships. We can eventually make more … once we get our house in order.”
“Then I suggest we get focused on that first,” Admiral Childress said firmly, redirecting the conversation to constructive lines.
@
Jean grimaced once the conference session was over. She didn't like where things were going, not at all. It was bad enough that Childress was tearing apart the Republic but to go up against Irons and the Federation?
Well, if word got out about what they were planning to do, it might be the straw that finally broke the camel's back and forced Omar and Sherman out. She knew she wasn't the only one not happy about the idea, and that was just on the senior staff.
She could count on Shren, Draken, C'v'll, Hill, and N'r'm'll to back Childress without question. They were his to command. And somewhere in there she had to put herself and the others. Further in the back of the line but still there.
She shook her head. She knew better than to access her own retirement package. That would be a tip off to ONI that she was looking for a way out. She'd be on the outside looking in within hours of doing so, if she wasn't arrested for what she knew.
Besides, based on what she'd heard, the retirement packages had evaporated in the economic implosion. She'd be lucky if she could find a job once she was out of the navy too. She'd be blackballed by all the industrialists, especially those backing Childress.
No, for good or ill she was stuck with the hand she was dealt. It was time to move on and consider other options she reminded herself.
She did see one positive out of the planning session. She wasn't certain what Melvin was up to, but she'd picked up on his chatter in the forums. It had to be him pushing questions about what was going on in the Sargasso system. The families of those left behind there were certainly coming out to ask what was to be done about them. Many didn't have powerful patrons, but her point about not knowing what was going on might resonate with Hill and the others.
Which meant that Omar might do something about it, if only to shut them up. Once they got some intel on what was going on in Bek B he might sign off on sending a ship to the Sargasso star system for additional intel there. Once he had it, he'd most likely act on either threat, depending on which was more important to him.
But, the attempt would be a double-edged blade that would be turned against him she knew. His sending a ship would alert the Federation presence there. They would know that something had gone wrong with Logan's arrival and well that would mean some changes on that side, right?
She paused, running her fingertips over her legs to make sure that she was clean as a new thought struck her. Was that Melvin's plan? To get the word out? She shook her head as she undressed. Her discarded uniform left an untidy mess on the floor. It might be, she thought as she picked through her closet. She wanted a civilian dress, something nice but not too revealing for her dinner date. She modeled a few in front of the mirror until she found one that fit her mood, or at least the mood she wanted to be in shortly.
Childress was a damn fool she thought as she changed. If they became a serious threat to Irons, all Irons would need to do would be to Nova bomb the star system. She paused as she picked up her shoes and pursed her lips in thought. Should she tell them? Freak them out? It would spook them she knew, might even get Draken to shut Childress down, but it might get them to do something stupid as well. Slowly she shook her head, discarding that idea as a bad one.
But, the threat of a Nova bomb might spark someone to act. Or, it might get people to reluctantly rally around Childress if only for their own survival she thought. Not good.
No. She steadied herself with one hand as she lifted her foot and slipped a shoe on, then another. She wiggled her toes; glad to be out of her uniform shoes but also missing the room she'd had in them.
Her phone beeped, making her smile. She looked over to it and saw the text from her date. Jake was sweet and playful. She finger-combed her hair and then typed out a quick frisky text before she went to adjust her makeup. “All good things come to those who wait,” she texted. Make him wait, that was what her mother had always taught her. The boys needed to learn patience, and she took perverse pleasure in exasperating them. It would all be worth it when he got that first look at her she thought, smoothing her dress and then checking her room. She always got a kick out of that hungry expression.
She wasn't certain if they would end up back at her place, his, or a hotel, but she wanted to be sure the maid had changed the sheets. She nodded after a cursory inspection. All good. So were the contents of her “naughty” drawer.
She picked up her purse and phone and then headed to the door as he texted her again, warning her that the restaurant didn't hold appointments past the hour.
“Coming,” she typed back as she left the building, glad of the distraction.
“Save that for later,” he responded, making her giggle as she grabbed her stole and headed to the lift.
Chapter 27
Captain Clayton breathed a sigh of relief when Ilmarinen emerged from her brief test flight on the outskirts of the Bek B component. They were several AU outside of where they wanted to be, but that was to be expected. Not bad considering he had only managed to hold onto one of his original helm team and one of his junior navigators. The rest of the helm and navigational team were new, some straight from the academy. It was a bit disconcerting to put his life and the life of his crew in the hands of kids who were barely young enough to do adult hygiene.
“Securing from jump,” the ops officer stated.
“Maintain a charge on the hyper capacitors. CIC, let us know what is around us,” the captain ordered.
“Aye aye, sir,” the CIC rating replied.
“Sir, do we broadcast our IFF?” his comm officer asked carefully.
“No. Just consider this a training exercise for them. We're to observe and then return only,” he said flatly.
“Yes, sir,” the comm officer replied stiffly.
@
“Sir, we've got an unscheduled hyperspace emergence on the outskirts of the star system. It looks like it is on a direct heading back to Bek B,” CIC reported.
The T'clock admiral looked up and wiggled his antenna and mandibles as he considered the datum. He looked at the system plot. A blinking dot told him where the ship was. He read the data around the icon and then zoomed out to the nearest ships. He selected several of the picket ships he had established and then narrowed his focus on the two closest to the unidentified ship. “Have … Falcuta and Kukri intercept.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Has the ship broadcast an IFF?” the admiral asked.
“No, sir. She's just sitting there.”
The T'clock exchanged a look with his chief of staff. Both looked resigned and fatalistic about the news.
“ID?” the admiral finally asked.
“She looks like some sort of a factory ship from this distance. Definitely not Harmony of Space,” the tech reported.
“Okay. That would most likely make her Ilmarinen. Curious that she's just sitting there. Engineering casualty?” the admiral asked. He was starting to allow hope to creep into his mind that she had a problem. If she had and if they could catch her … she'd go a long way to upgrading the fleet and furthering the plan to build a courier.
“I don't know, sir. Should we ask?” the rating asked as
the chief of staff came into the command center.
“If they haven't broadcast an IFF let alone an emergency hail, something is up. Yes, broadcast to them asking if they need assistance.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
@
“Sir, we're receiving a hail from Bek B's Command One fortress. They are asking if we need assistance. They are identifying us by name.”
“So, they know we are here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“And they know who we are. Given there are only a handful of starships, that's no surprise,” the captain said dryly. “Status on those two ships?” he asked, tapping his repeater plot with one finger. He didn't like that they were so close.
“The destroyers began to maneuver before we received the message. They are on an intercept course now, sir.”
“So, they know we are here and sent two tin cans off to us before asking us if anything is wrong,” Captain Clayton rumbled, tucking his chin onto his fist and chest.
“To be fair, sir, we haven't broadcast our IFF or sent them a hail,” his XO reminded him.
“I'm aware of that,” the captain replied tartly. “Bring us about. We need to return,” he ordered. “Begin charging the hyperdrive and computing a return course.”
The surprised navigator nodded. “Aye aye, sir.”
“Sir, the engineers are still sorting out the sensor recordings from our recent jump. I don't know if we can charge the hyperdrive,” the XO warned. “The capacitors are at half charge, but they are checking everything thoroughly, especially the sensors to make sure we don't have any problems.”
The captain turned a glower on the XO. “They damn well better not have a problem. Get down there and tell them to get moving. I mean now. I don't want those ships to get into firing distance of us.”
The XO gulped and rose out of his chair. “Aye aye, sir.”
@
“They have come about, sir,” the CIC tech reported. “We're receiving an increased energy signature from the ship. Thermal has increased slightly, but there is gravitational lensing going on not consistent with a wedge.”
