Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  “You can't condemn the man for being who and what he is,” Raphael stated.

  “I can try,” the chief of staff said, making the AG chuckle.

  “What about the other admirals?”

  “They are split as far as we can see. The political admirals are the ones behind Childress for the most part. The shooters are just laying low and trying to keep doing their jobs. There is a movement within the navy to go on Caroline for her return trip. I understand several officers have requested a transfer. Childress has granted a few of them, mainly to get them out of his hair and to clear their slot so he can put someone he trusts in their place,” Raphael stated. “If you aren't a supporter of Childress, you either get transferred to some out-of-the-way nasty post, you voluntarily submit your papers and retire, or you lay low and pretend to kiss his ass and hope he doesn't notice you aren't really feeling the love.”

  “Lovely,” L'r'kk growled.

  “Did you notice the passenger manifest?” Raphael asked. “I noticed one name that practically jumped out of the list,” he said, tapping one name on the list with his tablet then turning to show it to all of them.

  “Zekowitz—I was surprised honestly. I thought they were hurting for flag officers?”

  “Apparently, not. No, I was talking about this one,” the AG said, moving his finger and tapping again.

  Both Veraxins and the other people in the room stared at the small print. The AG flicked his finger to send the name to the wall screen. The WiFi link picked up the signal, recognized the source, and displayed it in large enough print for all to read.

  “This is going to get interesting. Admiral Irons sent his own admiral,” L'r'kk said. “The same Logan that you used as a precedent,” he said, turning an expectant look on his boss.

  “That can't be good,” the AG said with a nod. “It might be where Childress got his backbone from, but I'm not sure. This plan has obviously been in the works for months, well before Caroline's arrival. We also didn't know this Logan was coming.”

  “True, but we didn't know Caroline's true orders the first time. There might have been a heads-up in there somewhere,” Amanda murmured.

  “True,” Raphael admitted. He turned to their boss. “Sir, shouldn't we bring Nibs into the loop this time? She had a fit about it the last time,” he pointed out.

  “There is no time,” the Veraxin said. “Caroline is only planning to be here for a two-week layover according to what they just sent to us. Enough time to unload, give the crew some liberty, and then off again.” He signaled second-level reluctant acceptance. “It will take nineteen more days to get word to the vice president and another month or so for her to get here. Assuming she moved out right away that is. Caroline will be long gone by then.”

  “That is a pity. But they have an itinerary to keep it seems. She's a tight ship,” Amanda observed. She leaned forward and picked up her cup of tea and then sat back. She crossed her legs as she took a dainty sip and then let her hand drop to hold the cup in her lap.

  “Yes. Yes, she is. I wish her all of Lady Luck's blessings when she leaves of course,” the Veraxin said. He left unsaid his wish for luck was genuine and heartfelt. Hopefully, someone would bring word back to Admiral Irons about the situation, and he would take steps to do something about it. He didn't like the direction Admiral Childress was moving the navy in. But he was virtually powerless now that Admiral Irons was back in command to do anything about it. Admiral Childress had been almost gleefully pleased when he'd pointed that out to him.

  “We're sending a message, sir?” Amanda asked.

  “You can bet on it,” Raphael growled. “Did you get any luck arranging a meeting with one of her senior officers?” he asked, turning to the chief of staff.

  “No,” the Veraxin said, signaling disgust and irritation. “They are taking liberty on one of the military's habitats. We can't get someone with a message to them easily.”

  “We could come out and invite this Logan or one of the others directly. Spin it as a photo op,” Amanda suggested, looking at the president.

  “That is distinctly possible. I'm not certain about this Logan though. I'd like to meet him obviously, but I don't know the man or what his orders are,” the president said.

  “And the attempt to meet him will be an obvious ploy the other side will notice,” L'r'kk pointed out.

  “That too. If he is on our side, which I highly doubt given his history, we risk labeling him as an ally and a mark for Childress. If he isn't involved in Childress's plotting …”

  “We can't tell. We aren't deep enough to see that. For the moment he's based on the ship.”

  “We need to get someone close enough to him to give us a feel for him. Someone we trust,” Raphael stated.

  “Yeah, and who do we trust in the military?” Amanda said, shaking her head.

  “Yeah, there is the rub,” the AG sighed.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Thirty-six hours, Admiral Zekowitz thought as they debarked. Thirty-six hours of being in incommunicado limbo, sweating it out on the ship. If he'd had any misgivings about being home, they were definitely there now he thought.

  His misgivings were even greater once he had found out Admiral Childress had assumed command of the navy. Things didn't bode well for the future. “Sir, what is going on? What do we do?” Lieutenant Si asked.

  “I don't know. Lay low,” he said.

  “And Lieutenant Olson, sir? Commodore Logan?” she asked. “How long do I put them off for?” she asked.

  He grimaced. He figured she'd figure that part out. “You are busy. If the commodore comes direct to you, direct him to me,” he ordered. She nodded.

  Lieutenant Si knew her boss was troubled. She also wasn't certain what to make of the changes in the chain of command. They were supposed to be moving forward, but apparently, they'd taken a tremendous step backward since she and her admiral had left for Pyrax.

  “There isn't anything we can do is there, sir?” she asked.

  “Not a damn thing Oprah,” he said with feeling. “Not a damn thing but duck and cover and hope for the best,” he said.

  “We should tell the commodore that, sir,” she said.

  He grimaced. “Horatio should know it already. If he hasn't figured it out, he's going to regret making waves,” he said. What he didn't say was that if he played a good boy and let Horatio be the brat and draw all the attention to himself Zek might be able to skate by under Childress's radar. He didn't know what he could do, but it was the only plan he had at the moment.

  He also knew it wasn't a good one. And the idea of throwing a good man like Horatio to the political wolves didn't make him feel very good about himself. But there weren't many other options available he reasoned. He blew out a slow raspberry.

  “That's what I thought,” Lieutenant Si murmured. He glanced at her and then away.

  Chapter 21

  Horatio and the passengers debarked Caroline and entered the Bekian billet system. It turned into a mess of misunderstandings and red tape that had Zek practically wringing his hands and ready to wring someone's neck. Horatio tried to take it in stride but even he was seething. They'd had enough time to plan for them; it wasn't like they didn't have advanced warning. And it wasn't like they didn't have the room.

  But finally they were settled in temporary officer housing for the officers and family housing for the civilians. They were told to take some time off to acclimate themselves, but all of the officers were itching to get things going.

  That was easier said than done they found. Every attempt to get anyone was thwarted. It seemed everyone was off for the weekend. Horatio was forced to study the blueprints of the station and yard and catch up on the news.

  He had to admit, Bek was a complex society. They had to be, with two planets in Bek A, Thebes and Memphis, and hundreds of lunar and space habitats and colonies spread out through the binary subsystem. He was amused that they'd finally settled on names that were apparently related to Egyptian mythology
like the star system's name.

  He flipped through the dozens of news broadcasts, but the talking heads repeating the same thing got under his skin in minutes.

  He'd grown tired of the news when the entire cycle had been dominated by Caroline's arrival. Only a shuttle crash on Bek's innermost and oldest planet Thebes had competed with it. The crash had splashed on the news, but when there was no immediate sign of foul play, the news cycle had switched back to the talking heads coverage of Caroline's return once more.

  He couldn't blame them in a way. He felt for the families of the 234 passengers and crew on that shuttle, but they'd gone down over water. There was no wreckage, no scene to splash over the news footage. In a way that was a blessing; they deserved to grieve privately.

  He flipped through the channels to see what passed for entertainment but was mostly disgusted. There were entire channels devoted to what they called “reality TV.” There were others that were supposed to be educational, but two of them had “mockumentaries” that basically meant fictional documentaries of monsters in the lakes of Bek A's second planet, Memphis.

  Which … bugged him he thought. He hated fake crap like that, too many idiots out there took it as fact. They didn't know any better and trusted the source. It made any other material the so-called science channel put up questionable.

  He instinctively tried to access the net to get information again but was stymied. The commander who ran the billet had promised to get them passwords to allow them access, but so far they hadn't done it. Despite his seniority no one was in a tearing hurry to get it done.

  Or, more likely, because it was the weekend they'd conveniently forgotten the subject and him. If he made a nuisance of himself, he'd draw attention to the problem, but he didn't want to make waves so soon after coming off the boat.

  Instead he decided to play the guest and enjoy the quiet while he planned the next series of moves he would have to execute once they put him to work. He'd managed to get a copy of Caroline's sensor files before he'd left the ship. The Bekian brass hadn't given him any files under the “secrecy” label, so he could only use what the ship had seen in order to try to plot out his next moves. That ate up a couple hours. When he finally set it aside, it was time for dinner.

  After dinner he took the time to check on the rest of the team. The officers seemed to be taking advantage of the time off, but each asked him when they were going to get to work. The civilians were more inclined to take advantage of the hotel they were in. He found a couple of them lounging about and heard that Galiet had dragged Bailey off to some dance club in the base. He shook his head and wished the Neochimps the best of luck. At least they were getting their pent-up whatever under control he thought with a trace of a smile.

  He took a stroll through the habitat's parks. They were pretty, night lit but pretty. The habitat was a rotating O'Neill colony that kept a normal day/night cycle for the people within. He'd been on a few O'Neill colonies but not in awhile. His last had been a brief virtual tour of a proposed colony in Pyrax. If he remembered right, the proposal had never gotten past the raising capital stage, he thought as he took a seat on a park bench.

  They even had some animals he noted. He could hear the hoot of an owl. There were small birds and the occasional scurry of a squirrel. Two squirrels came over to check him out and see if he had a handout.

  “You better scamper on home,” he said waving a hand to get them to go away. One took the hint and took off; the second cocked his head, came closer, and then took off. He looked over his shoulder to Horatio and then kept going. He heard a soft whispering flutter. Before he could open his mouth, a dark shape dropped through the thin trees. He saw the owl's head look up after a moment. Massive eyes blinked at him and then the head rotated almost 360 to check the animal's surroundings. After a moment, it gathered itself and lunged back into the air, its prey dangling from its claws.

  “Oops, too late,” Horatio murmured. He rose and continued his walk.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  The following Monday they reported for duty and had to settle into temporary offices far from the yard. That was when Horatio and the others discovered Bek's taste for Byzantine office politics.

  Horatio had found out almost by chance that they were not one big happy family in the republic. Components A and B were nearly at an economic and a media war with each other. There was sort of a cold war going on between the two-star system siblings. Component A as the older and parent colony was in control of 70 percent of the industrial complex, and from what he'd been able to dig up, the citizens and leaders of component B resented that. B resented being exploited and its own social and economic needs ignored. The leaders and public in B also resented being shortchanged in budgets and in representation. They also didn't like it that the central government was in A. By the time they got news of a decision, it had been voted on and they hadn't been allowed input. Their sparse population was a factor there.

  There was little anyone could do about representation. That came down to population, and there was just more in A than B. The exploitation … he shook his head. Again, not much he or anyone could do. The industrial companies were shipping Bek A a steady stream of raw or semiprocessed material to the smelters to process from the mines in component B as well as the thick outer Oort cloud of rocks and ice.

  Industrial leaders in A kept the prices so low that investing in building industry in B wasn't cost effective. They also kept a lock on the politics involved, giving themselves tax breaks in A over industry in B.

  Well, that should be evened out. But no one said life and politics was about being fair, so it might not change at all he thought with a grimace. And again, it wasn't his place to intervene he reminded himself. He had enough problems with the politicians in the navy. He knew Admiral Irons wanted ansibles in each component eventually. That would cut down on the communication time, but he had only sent two ansible cores, one for Bek and one for Nuevo. For the time being, they'd have to make do.

  He shook his head as he returned to his own problem. The politics in the navy … it was really something else. The shakeup was a game changer. Some said it was why his mission was in limbo, but he wasn't certain of that. And he couldn't get to anyone who could give him a straight answer. Political admirals were ruling the damn navy and tying things up into knots.

  He'd expected a few, and he'd instinctively known that political animals would rise to the top of the navy. That had been the norm in the old Federation as well. They scratched each other's backs and festered in the system. The people who actually got the job done preferred to be left alone to do the job. That left the political animals gravitating to the staff positions and then rising through the ranks virtually unchecked.

  The political animals also knew where the bodies were buried and had connections. They were all about making favors or calling them in. He shook his head. “John, what have you gotten me into,” he murmured.

  “Did you say something, Commodore?” Lieutenant Olson asked, suddenly intent on his charge in case he was needed.

  “Eh? No, just thinking out loud,” the commodore replied.

  He returned to his ruminations as the passenger shuttle continued its flight. He could and probably should be working on rehearsing his proposals and speeches but bugger that. He'd rather try to figure out the players.

  Unfortunately, he didn't have a lot to go on. Zek hadn't been very helpful in that regard. He'd given him some words of caution, but now that he was getting into the thick of things, he could have honestly used a better briefing. Unfortunately, ONI and the powers at home had only the list of officers and chain of command to give him. Some had bios, which had been a little helpful; many had just been name entries, not even a photo or hologram.

  He shook his head. “Did you get any more out of Lieutenant Si? Does she or Admiral Zekowitz have contacts to clue us in on what is going on and what the Admiralty's plans are for us?” he asked, turning to his flag lieutenant.

  “Um …,” O
lson shrugged.

  “Or the people we're supposed to be working with?” Horatio added to jump start the lieutenant's memory. “Offices, that sort of thing?”

  Olson's face cleared but he looked unhappy about breaking the news he had. “Oh, no, sir. Sorry, Lieutenant Si put me off.”

  Horatio wuffled a frustrated sigh. He should have known he thought. Zek was playing turtle or something. Or he didn't want to pass on anything to Horatio in case it wasn't true. “Of course she did. Was she uncomfortable the last time?”

  Lieutenant Olson nodded. “Yes, sir.”

  “Because she was worried loose talk would find its way back to bite her in the ass. We're floundering around here in the dark. I don't like it.” Horatio looked away, suddenly pensive. Nothing was going as planned. He felt like he was in zero G floundering around without a handhold or a way to maneuver. And he had a sneaking suspicion he could add a leaky suit to that analogy.

  “No, sir. I can understand that. Anything on building your staff?”

  Horatio snorted. “Heh. For the moment you are it.”

  Lieutenant Olson's face worked. “Lucky me I suppose, sir.”

  “I know you want some help. I'm trying, honest. Do some digging on your own. Talk to the people in the breakroom, noncoms or enlisted sailors. Keep it light. See what you can come up with, the players. See if you can tap the chief's net and others if you have to. We need intel, and we need to get this project moving. It's been stalled for too long.”

  “Aye aye, sir,” Lieutenant Olson said dubiously.

  Horatio noted the doubt in the junior officer's face and sighed internally. He too wasn't sure about the odds of their success.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  “So, how are our guests? Did they behave themselves?” Admiral Draken asked, eyeing Admiral Hill as she came into his office.