by Chris Hechtl
He nodded. They were running what they knew for certain through the Crusher's computers and bumping up the realism to compensate for the outdated intelligence. It made sense to train harder than what they might actually encounter. He fully approved.
When the sim concluded, he took lunch with some of the officers involved. He picked at his salad as he listened to them discuss the sim, critique their own performances, then wind down to discuss the navy situation in general. “It's weird in a way. We had three castes, now we've got what, four?” a lieutenant commander asked. “There is the old guard, the sleepers, the new guard, and those who have gone through the academy. Now we've got Bekians,” he said, nodding his chin to the admiral in their midst.
“Don't forget mustangs and college graduates,” another officer suggested.
“Yeah, them too. The mustangs have a better grasp of things than the college grads do though. I'm on the fence about the grads,” the commander said with a shake of his head.
“What's wrong with that? I'm a college grad,” a female Neogorilla asked, popping a carrot into her mouth to masticate it.
“Um, nothing wrong in that you are an officer. But no offense, you don't have the same experience the rest of us academy grads do.”
“So? I'd think the different perspectives are welcome. We're all one big happy family right?” the Neogorilla asked with a wave of her hand that made a couple tablemates on either side duck instinctively.
“Yeah, something like that,” the commander drawled.
Zek frowned thoughtfully. He was a bit put out that not every officer went through the academy. A few of the mustangs were teaching there as well. It bothered him that they didn't have the skills and polish that he took for granted.
“What about Captain Harris? Or some of the others?”
“What about them?”
“We have to start somewhere. Captain Harris was taught by Commodore Logan and his daughter. He learned tactics and strategy and ran a military club on Anvil before he became an officer. He's new guard, but he never attended college or the academy. He's taught at both though.”
“True. And Captain Mayweather did too.”
“Yeah, well, we all know what happened to her,” A commander said darkly.
“Enough of that. Everyone makes mistakes. She did and fully admitted it. She walked into a trap and got her ass handed to her. It happens.”
“Yeah, but if one of us had been there …”
“There were plenty of academy grads on Firefly at the time. No one knew. Remember also, Captain Firefly, Captain Mayweather, and her bridge crew were our most experienced veterans and even they didn't see it coming.”
“True,” another officer agreed thoughtfully.
“I didn't know they never attended the academy. I thought they took makeup courses,” Zek rumbled quietly. All eyes turned to him. “I'm not sure I like just handing a civilian an officer's commission and the responsibility it goes with it.”
“I believe they did take classes, sir. I don't know for certain though,” the Neogorilla commander replied.
“They took makeup classes to fill the voids in their education and taught many classes that they were experts in. They passed all the tests, sir. Many administered them. Captain Harris was one of the academy instructors for years,” Captain Firefly interjected from the overhead PA, making many look up in surprise. That made everyone sit up straight. “Since you are having a conversation about me I was flagged,” he said.
“Sorry, sir. Didn't mean to bother you,” a lieutenant said.
“I wanted to set the record straight,” the captain replied.
“But they never learned the traditions. Instead they've been making it up as they go along,” Zek said, not ready to let the subject go so easily. The idea bothered him, nagged at him.
“True. Unfortunately, sir, there weren't a lot of people around to teach them those traditions,” Captain Firefly pointed out. “We ran into the same problem during the Xeno war. We had to take raw recruits and turn them into enlisted, noncoms, and officers with little or no training. Sometimes they had a day or more to learn their post. Many went into combat without implants,” Captain Firefly stated.
“And they set the tone for the rest to follow!” Zek said in exasperation, ignoring the A.I. captain's statement for the moment.
“It is a learning curve. You have to have people in place to train the next generation behind. What did you want to do, have everyone cycled through the academy first? We needed ships and crews to man them right away. Pyrax was under attack at the time,” Captain Firefly stated. “As I said, it was like the Xeno war all over again, sir.”
Zek looked at the ceiling in utter confusion. “You mentioned that a moment ago.
“During the latter stages of the Xeno war people were drafted into the military. We had no choice, we needed the warm bodies. The merchant spacers were the second best to get grabbed, right behind the old retired veterans.” The admiral nodded. “But the planetary types … Many had no appreciable skills and didn't have the mindset for the job let alone being in space. But still they served, they had to, we had no other choice. People were mustanged to fill in the voids too. During the war it was recorded that there are people who started off as ensigns and ended up as admirals in under a year!”
Zek blanched. “That … that's insane.”
“Such is war. Needs must and all that. Some say quality-like cream rises to the top. I think of it as attrition, and someone had to fill in the voids. And the more untrained they were, the more losses the Federation suffered due to their ignorance, impatience, and such.”
The rear admiral nodded emphatically in agreement. “I know. You are making my point.” He worked his jaw. It was one reason he didn't like or trust A.I. They were programmed and selected as officers. They didn't go to the academy either. How can one be programmed with that sort of experience? Answer, they couldn't he thought acidly.
“No, I'm pointing out that needs must. But I'm also pointing out that we are training. And we're making damn sure everyone gets the best education that we can give them. Never stop learning. It's the greatest lesson anyone can learn, sir.”
“Oh.”
“Napoleon said it best. There is a marshal’s baton in every knapsack,” Commander Ovenstien said. “At least, I think that's the quote. Anyway, you get the general idea,” he said with a diffident shrug. “The way we're expanding we need people. Badly.” He looked at the Neogorilla. “And yes, I admit the different perspectives are a help as much of a hindrance,” he said. “I still wish we had a common playing field.”
“We do. As officers who know their duty and wish to perform it to their utmost,” the Neogorilla said slowly.
“Never measure someone else's passion for doing the job without knowing them,” a lieutenant murmured.
“Agreed,” Captain Firefly said. “I remember seeing a lot of dirt siders who burned briefly. And I remember seeing others who rose to the occasion. You never know what makes you organics tick until they are thrown into the crucible and forced to change and rise to the occasion or be burned away as distaff.
“I … see,” Zek said. “So, I guess it's a good idea we get them from my home star system.”
“I suppose so, sir. If we get enough of them, it might put a crimp in how fast people are being promoted these days. I'm not sure. It hasn't happened yet though.”
Chapter 10
The latest convoy came with more than just the usual freighters. A group of three other ships came as well. These were marine troop transports built in the Pyrax yard and dispatched to Agnosta to pick up the troops there. Two other ships had been captured from the Horathians and had been in the yard being overhauled and refitted. A few of the freighters had passengers that would crossload to those transports once they docked.
Warships were intended to be assigned to escort them to their destination. By all rights they were going in the same direction initially as Caroline but would head north instead of sout
h when they got to B101a1.
They were also going to be leaving Pyrax long after Caroline was gone he knew. “I'd heard you were about to invade … Destria was it?” Admiral Zekowitz asked as he turned to Commander Garretaj and the other senior officers. “But I wasn't certain what to make of it.”
“Believe it, sir,” Saul said with a tight nod. “It's been a long time coming, but we're finally seeing it happen.”
“Well, it's not happening just yet,” Admiral Subert said. “They still need to take on some troops here and cargo. We need to shift cargo around between the ships, and the two transports that were caught need to be run through their paces first.”
“I believe Colonel Harley is champing at the bit to get going, sir,” Saul said.
“She can wait.”
“I'm not sure the bars in port can survive a couple thousand bored marines, sir,” Saul said with a shake of his head.
“I'm not going to bump up the priority any higher than I have. They'll have to behave themselves,” the admiral said tightly. He snorted after a moment. “Marines, right? Oh who am I kidding?” he said in exasperation.
“True,” Zek replied, glad they'd found a small modicum of ground in common. His eyes lit on the transport. He frowned, and then as a mental exercise he downloaded the blueprints to his implants but struggled to view them without getting overwhelmed. “Damn it …”
“Problems, sir?”
“Trying to get the specs on those ships.”
“Each holds a brigade,” the admiral stated. “The ship that is longer is the command ship.”
“The General Murtough. Named after the famous general from the First A.I. war, sir,” Saul interjected. “The other two ships are the Iwo Jima and the Chester Puller aka Chesty,” he said.
“Right,” Admiral Subert said. “Each carries a brigade as I said, and the command ship also carries a larger hospital complex, command facilities, drones, better communications, and better computers.”
Admiral Zekowitz frowned thoughtfully. It was hard to grasp that many marines in one place. “They really need so many? A full division?”
“To invade the planet, they most likely will need a second division to come in and pick up where they leave off, sir,” Saul explained. The Bekian admiral stared at him. “We're talking about sending a division of forces against an enemy division. One that has been embedded for some time and has raised three or four times their number in local partisan supports. We know they have one platoon of powered armor with them. We don't know exactly how they were outfitted, but it can't be good, sir.”
The rear admiral had the grace to blush. “Oh,” was all he got out. He was clearly out of his element and started to realize that fact.
“Oh, we've got them on hardware, and I know we're better trained despite some people thinking otherwise. It's not a question of quality. It is quantity, and they've been on the ground longer. We'll have the high ground of course, but they'll know the lay of the land and will have an intelligence network. They'll have hostages too. Our people are going in with limited and definitely out-of-date intelligence.”
“Lovely.”
“I know, sir. I don't envy them. But they are marines; that is what they are trained for.”
“Once they have the planet mostly secured, those ships will ferry back the heavily wounded and recruits. They'll drop the wounded off here, and the recruits will be processed. The army and marine recruits will ride the ships the rest of the way to Agnosta where hopefully, an army unit will have been stood up and will be ready to load and come in to take over for them so the marines can pull back for rest and refit before they move on to the next planet to invade,” Admiral Subert explained.
“Ah,” Zek said thoughtfully. “If I remember correctly, there are over a dozen planets to invade? And I imagine some will be harder than others?”
“Yes, sir,” Saul said. “And that's a dozen that we know about. ONI is certain there are many more.”
“Shit,” Zek murmured.
“Yes, sir. It's not going to be pleasant for them. But before they can do their jobs, we have got to send our people in to secure the orbitals.”
Zek nodded.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Once the convoy was sorted out, Admiral Zek saw reloading of the ships to bring cargo back to Agnosta, as well as the loading of the three ships destined for B101a1. The marines were third in priority and apparently, the female Colonel hadn't been happy about that.
The convoy to Agnosta was mildly interesting. He'd had a small hand in some of it, he'd learned to apply his implants with the industrial centers and replicators and some of his work was on pallets or in crates and ready to ship out.
Personnel were coming in from all over as well. There were a few civilian passengers as well; most of them had something to do with the government though. The main priority was the loads of military equipment and personnel headed to Agnosta to be shipped out to Triang and from there on to Antigua.
He noted that despite his other duties and a dedicated logistics department, Horatio couldn't help but dabble in and oversee some of the logistics and planning. Most of what he had a hand in was related to the ship parts.
Horatio stepped up with him to attend the last minute meetings as the ships finished their preparations. Zek was amused to see that Horatio also took notes of the design of the B101a1 station for possible use to build the B-102c station, though Zek was certain someone else would get handed that project. Most likely from the Bek side, there was no way Irons would countersign sending a very valuable and highly fragile factory ship through the rapids to build the damn thing.
Zek also got involved after he noted Horatio's preoccupation with the project. He became interested in the project when he realized the station was a partially modular canned design, but they were being flexible about the overall design. It intrigued him and allowed him to scratch some of his designing engineer itch he'd always had.
He liked the idea of the station, though he didn't like the exposure it meant for their people. But he agreed that the enemy would have to have a significant force and large amount of water dweller helmsmen to get them through the rapids and into Bek.
“Even if they got there, it'd have to be a hell of a force to knock out what we've got sir,” Lieutenant Si pointed out.
“True. Very true.”
~<><{<^>}><>~
All work ceased for the flag officers though when Admiral Subert called an all hands on deck for a commissioning ceremony. Three ships—one of them a battle cruiser, the other two were a light cruiser and destroyer respectively—had finished their builders’ trials and were ready for commissioning before their crews took formal ownership and started their working-up exercises.
Admiral Subert insisted they have a formal occasion. It annoyed Horatio, but he knew the crew deserved some pomp and circumstance to put up with, and the inevitable party that would follow would be a good place for everyone to unwind and get rewarded for their troubles and sacrifices.
He listened with half an ear as Admiral Subert took the podium and gave a brief speech commemorating the occasion. He stood at attention with the others as the admiral droned on, and then got near the end.
“Usually we do this one ship at a time. Each ship deserves her day to shine. But in this day and time, we are pushing the ships out as quickly as we can make them. The crews to man them just as fast it seems,” he said with a slight dark tone in his voice.
Horatio noted that the media outlets had been invited and were on hand to record the entire ceremony. He suddenly realized it might not have been up to Admiral Subert to hold the occasion. Admiral Irons might have ordered it as a public relations move and to bolster the navy's image.
He missed the tail end of the speech. But when the rear admiral stopped talking the silence snapped him out of his woolgathering to look at the podium once more.
Admiral Subert theatrically pressed a button on the podium and turned to the viewing wall. A bottle of champagne wa
s ejected at each of the bows of the ships. They flew through space, tumbling slightly before they hit the sides of each ship and exploded in a spray of glass and quickly freezing liquid.
At the reception, Horatio took a champagne glass and made the rounds, giving in to what he believed was his duty. “Another moment to have a party and play dress up it seems,” Horatio said in his dress uniform, complete with fruit salad.
“You look good anyway, sir,” Commander Teague teased. “Better than the rest of us,” she said, indicating her nearly bereft lapel.
“We should get you out of the office and into the field then if you want more fruit salad,” Horatio observed.
“Pass. I like my job right where it is, thank you,” she said with a shake of her head. He smiled politely.
“Then don't complain,” he teased. She snorted.
Horatio decided to make the rounds in two more circuits, then beat a hasty retreat to anywhere but the reception. On his second pass, he ran into Rear Admiral Zekowitz. For the first time, he realized that the rear admiral didn't have much of a fruit salad either.
Since the rear admiral was distracted with a conversation with a reporter, Horatio took a moment of internal thought to realize why. Zek had been in engineering, staff or teaching according to his scantly anointed record. He'd done a few sails as an engineer, but after he got to captain he'd been bumped out of the ships and fortresses to run on the other side of the track. He had little notations about exercises in his record like the captains he and Admiral Sienkov had brought along with him. No notations of valor in a disaster or recovery either. Those could be just good or bad luck depending on your viewpoint Horatio knew.
Most of the medals were, therefore, conduct and service medals. He nodded.
