Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  He wasn't certain, but he knew the man was dead set on rebuilding the Federation. He had to be a part of it. With Lady Luck's blessing, he'd find a way he thought.

  And just maybe, maybe, he thought, rocking his chair side to side as he pensively looked at the map of Rho sector. Maybe in those twenty years or so, he'd rise high enough through the ranks so he'd get that CNO slot.

  Not a bad consolation prize, he thought with a predatory smile of anticipation.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Much to the befuddlement of Ensigns Jaroslaw and Weiss, modern implants were not being used or installed in naval personnel. That put them at a bit of a quandary since implant surgery was what the two surgeons specialized in.

  The two officers had enjoyed a week of liberty before they'd guiltily returned to Command 1 and then worked their way through the complex until they'd found someone in Bumedical to report to. It hadn't been easy; In fact, the entire process had been frustrating in the extreme. They'd found though that the two ensigns had been reassigned to Veterans Affairs instead of one of the major hospital complexes. Their job was to take care of veterans and their families.

  Which meant they'd been shuttled back down to the Thebes and set-up in the Dover City of all places to be a cog in a massive hospital complex. One that had dozens of staff members who were all overworked and underappreciated. “This isn't the job I signed up for,” Lee said, shaking her head as she considered the situation.

  “Me neither. Just do what you can with what we've got,” Tucker said doggedly.

  “Right.”

  The duo had gotten in late in the evening and had been assigned junior officer billets in an apartment complex on the edge of the hospital complex. It meant they had a living area, bathroom, and kitchenette that they shared with two other junior officers, but they were on opposite shifts so had yet to meet them. From the smell one of them was a Neodog; of that, Tucker was certain.

  Since they were new and junior, they had been originally assigned to handle in patient processing, the bottom of the pecking order for any doctor. The duo used the medical texts in their implants to diagnose maladies. Also, their implants allowed them to see through flesh easier. The two quickly became popular due to how accurate they were and their ability to access and update patients’ files electronically through their implants and because they could handle the huge load without complaint.

  After their first day, the hospital administrators had found out through the grapevine that they were both experienced surgeons. The two were reassigned to surgical duties.

  “We're definitely getting plenty of patient bedside training,” Lee mused as she raked at the inside of her ice cream bowl with her spoon, “or were. I saw what, a hundred patients in a single day? Doctor Lorn seemed impressed by my work ethic for some reason. I just wanted to get through the backlog of people. Some of them had been waiting long enough,” she said. She shivered.

  “True. I'm remembering what we went through in Pyrax. How we didn't get what we wanted and had to work for it. It's the only thing that fits,” Tucker said as he licked his spoon.

  “True.”

  “I feel for the patients though. I mean … did you get as many problem patients as I did?” he asked.

  She frowned thoughtfully. “By problem people, do you mean people with tissue rejection issues? If so, yes. Most of it was prosthetic issues. They have some odd problems and blind spots with that,” she said, shaking her head.

  “I know. We need better equipment,” he said.

  “Regen tanks for one,” she said.

  “Definitely,” Tucker replied with feeling. He looked over to where she was sitting on the chair cross-legged. “I think it freaks them out a bit that we can go a full shift without problems,” he said.

  “Implants, gotta love them,” Lee replied with a smile as she finished up. She looked up in concern. “I just got a ping,” she said.

  “Now what?”

  “It's in my inbox. Fresh orders ….” She closed her eyes and pulled open the e-mail. Her eyes moved back and forth under her lids. He waited for a moment, then got up and took her bowl and spoon and dropped them off in the kitchenette sink.

  “Damn it … damn it …,” Lee muttered.

  “What?” he demanded, sticking his neck into the room.

  “Damn,” she muttered in exasperation as she rose. “I've got to go,” she said, clearly not happy but resigned to something.

  “Go? Go where?”

  “The other planet. Memphis or whatever they call it,” she said. “I've been transferred there. To a hospital in Veterans Affairs there,” she said in disgust. “Apparently, they don't have any qualified surgeons there and need them.”

  Tucker frowned. “When?”

  “Apparently, the orders are ASAP. I'm supposed to report there tomorrow, so I guess I have to pack and catch a flight,” Lee said. She stretched. She looked good in her pajamas he noted. Not that he'd make a move on her; she'd made it clear they were friends and colleagues, not anything else.

  He wrinkled his nose as he came into the room and then leaned against the doorway with his shoulder. “Tomorrow … to cross the star system?”

  Lee grimaced as she scratched her head and fluffed her short hair. “I know. It's a bit of a stretch. I'll be reporting in late,” she said. She shook her head at that thought. “First they won't use us, now …,” she shook her head again, this time in frustration. “So, yeah, I'd better haul ass if I want to catch my shuttle flight,” she said, already performing a mental inventory. “I'm glad I didn't fully unpack I guess.”

  “Right,” Tucker drawled. “Well, good luck,” he said, extending a hand. “Keep in touch,” he said gruffly.

  “Right. Hang in there,” Lee said as she shook it, and then took off at a trot for her room. “Frackity frack, I've gotta pack. Again!”

  He snorted as he shook his head and went to deal with the dishes.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Admiral Draken checked the latest ONI report. According to the spy agency, no transfer of information had been allowed; no chips had been passed, though several attempts had been made to contact the ship through the naval switchboard. Each attempt had been noted, traced, recorded, and logged. None had been allowed.

  Every encounter with the crew had been recorded. There had been one incident with Lieutenant Dvorsky, but otherwise all was clear. There had been a few unauthorized radio transmissions; all had been traced to the crew and passengers with implants attempting to get WiFi access. They had been verbally reprimanded and issued links that allowed them to access the network's public routers while being closely monitored by ONI cyberists.

  He was certain they hadn't gotten anything to the ship but couldn't and wouldn't bet his life on it.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Captain Perth was not sure about antics of Bekian Admiralty or his own people in getting around them. He didn't like what he'd seen, and the more he stayed, the more paranoid he and his people were becoming. Not good, he knew.

  He'd had the crew go over all the cargo and fuel that had been taken on board with a fine tooth comb. Nothing had presented itself as dangerous in anyway, but it was safe to be sure he thought.

  Which bothered him too. He really was getting paranoid. But he also knew paranoia wasn't completely crazy. It was a survival trait. Even paranoid people had enemies … as the recent changes in the Bek navy had demonstrated.

  He hadn't liked the clogged switchboard. His people had complained bitterly about it. Which was probably why some of the people had gone to such clandestine lengths to get information into his hands.

  He now had two chips: one from the Bekian president, another from Commodore Logan. He knew he had to get them into the hands of Admiral Irons. He definitely didn't like what was going on in Bek and obviously, the others didn't either.

  Most likely they were reports, which were a practical cry for help he thought.

  He just had to deliver them in one piece.

  ~<><{<^>}><>
~

  Horatio made certain he talked with each of the senior Bekian officers who were assigned to go with Caroline to Pyrax. He wanted a chance to feel them out a bit, but found that he only had a few minutes while they were boarding. He wasn't happy that both flag officers had insisted on bringing a chief of staff with them and that Rear Admiral V'r'z'll had even managed to get an ensign assigned to her staff as well. But there was nothing he could do about it.

  He'd sized her up right off. She was a stickler, a shooter but a prickly one like Admiral Subert. Things were going to get interesting once she got to Pyrax. He wasn't certain, but he thought she had a problem with implant tech. He didn't have enough time or the right opening though to find out for certain.

  Commodore Hector Ortiz was one of the few mustangs to ever get above captain's rank in the navy. He was good, damn good in tactical. But he was also entangled in a marriage to another naval officer, a recently promoted Captain JG Rhianna Ortiz. The captain had some time in the hot seat, but she'd spent the past four years in staff positions. She was overdue to be rotated back into the battle line. Unfortunately, due to the changes in the fleet, no command had been available for her. She would do well in Pyrax he noted.

  He took the time to shake each of their hands. “I'd upload a list of people to contact once you are in Pyrax, but I don't know who will be there when you get there. Things are in flux almost as much there as here. Some more so since many ships are being forwarded to Second Fleet.”

  “Yes sir,” Commodore Ortiz said. He glanced at his wife. “We'll get it done, sir.”

  “Good. Ask the crew for contacts on the trip back. I'm sure they can recommend some friends and some good places to eat,” Horatio said. “Watch out for some of the eateries on Anvil,” he said, rolling his eyes. “The meat is questionable, and it is heavily spiced. The same for the alcohol,” he warned.

  “We'll keep that in mind, sir,” the captain replied with a nod.

  “I like hot,” her husband said.

  “And you pay for it later. And I pay for it by listening to you whine about it,” she reminded him. He rolled his eyes but didn't reply.

  “You should get back in time before the launch of the Eastern Front mission and possibly the Tau mission,” Horatio mused. “I've uploaded a letter of recommendation for all of you,” he said with a nod to the Veraxin rear admiral.

  “Thank you, Commodore. That was unnecessary. We hardly know you,” the Veraxin said.

  Horatio shrugged it off. “You'll have to play catch up with tech and starship handling if you want a posting in either command. You'll have plenty of time to read, so good luck there,” he said with a nod.

  He knew if any of the officers were like Zek they'd have a hell of a time getting one of those postings in time. But then again, if either mission was unduly delayed by other concerns … he mentally shrugged such considerations aside.

  “Thank you for the heads-up, sir. We knew this wasn't going to be a pleasure cruise. Reading will help I suppose,” the captain said, wrinkling her nose.

  “Good. The faster you are up to speed, the faster you can grab a command. There are a lot of good ships coming out of the yard.”

  “I thought Pyrax was a carrier yard?” Commodore Ortiz asked.

  “Yes, and carriers are good ships,” Horatio said. “But Pyrax also produces battle cruisers as well.”

  “I am a battle fleet officer,” the Veraxin rear admiral said.

  Horatio eyed her and then slowly nodded. “They'll find a place for you, ma'am. Perhaps in command of First or Third fleet,” he suggested.

  She signaled second-level assent.

  “Good luck here,” Commodore Ortiz said gruffly. “You'll need it,” he said as he extended his hand.

  Horatio took it. They shook hands, and then he nodded to the other officers as they left. Once they were gone, the older man blew his cheeks in and out a few times then turned away. “Don't I know it,” he muttered.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Caroline spent two weeks in port. During that time, the crew enjoyed some downside liberty as work crews emptied out the cargo they'd brought with them and then resupplied the ship. Three days before they were scheduled to depart, they were told they would be taking on additional passengers.

  A decision in the Bekian Admiralty had been made to send twenty-four middies to start the process in an exchange program, along with seven naval officers, two commanders, three ship captains, and two flag officers. Also three naval noncoms, a single Neodog marine officer, two marine noncoms, and five civilian delegates joined them over the following two days.

  "Looks like we're going to be full up. Are we still stopping at Nuevo, sir?" Lieutenant Oppenheimer asked. Of all the crew, he was the least enthused about leaving. He'd been enjoying his time in the tactical wing of the Admiralty. The Neoorangutan had gotten his clock cleaned in many of the early engagements, but he'd held his own in the more complex ones. And those that involved hyperspace had been a cake walk.

  He like many of the senior officers had been asked to do guest lectures at the Bek Academy. They'd done their duty on some of the evenings despite officially being on liberty. They'd even taken some time for media interviews.

  It was hard for him to leave. Unfair even, he'd met a nice sheila, a female Orang who had such pretty eyes, an Aussie accent, and wicked fingers. His large lips couldn't help but smile slightly in fond memory.

  "Our orders specify a stop. Diplomatic reasons," Captain Perth stated.

  Oppie sighed. The captain looked him over and shook his head. "I know that sound. Love problems," he said.

  "Long distance relationship, sir."

  "We'll be back to … well, B101a1 eventually," the captain said.

  "She's actually here, sir. A girl I met in a navy bar," he said. "Bartender. She showed me the town."

  "Right," Captain Perth drawled, finally catching on. "Well, Oppie, I'm glad you've got a girl in port. And, with any luck you'll see her again, just as soon as we get back here."

  "Yes, sir. Not soon enough in my opinion. No offense, Skipper, but can I get a transfer here?" Oppie asked suddenly.

  "We're supposed to be getting personnel out of the nexus, not putting them in," Captain Perth reminded him.

  "Oh, you got it bad," Newt drawled, shaking his head from over by the navigation station. Oppie and the captain looked over to him. "Should we start singing the KISS song?" he teased. "What was her name again?" he asked with a grin.

  "Never you mind," Oppie mock growled, brown eyes flashing.

  "Lieutenant Brock, do we have a course plotted?" the captain asked formally.

  "Plotted by the Bekian harbor patrol, sir," the navigator replied with a curt nod.

  "Good. Go over that one more time before we get underway. Then get a running plot going on our jump. See if you can squeeze some speed out for our love-struck shipmate here," he said, squeezing the Neoorangutan shoulder briefly.

  "On it," Newt said. He waited until the captain sat down then smiled. "K … I … S … S …," he started in a stage whisper. That earned a snicker from the bridge watch.

  Oppie just shook his head at the ribbing.

  Chapter 26

  It was clear after Caroline had jumped that the Bekians were done catering to the new arrivals. Within an hour of Caroline's departure, Bailey, Galiet, and the other consultants had found a bill and a pointed note from the hotel that they needed to pay up or find other lodging.

  Fortunately, by that time Galiet had gotten a small check for her work as a guest speaker. That had allowed them to have provable income. They'd used their savings to pay off the bill, and then moved out to a rather expensive and tiny apartment near the college campus on the planet.

  They let Baxter and a few of the other team members crash with them for awhile until one by one they each got a job and vacated. Bailey found a job as a consultant with a start-up. It paid on salary, but he'd taken the job since he hadn't been happy with some of the other offers that had been pres
ented to him. The other offers had been to run an R&D think tank. They paid well, but he had come to install the hardware and teach people to make and use it, not to research it. That was total bullpucky. Besides, what was a civilian outfit doing with military grade hardware anyway?

  No, he'd begged off and instead taken the start-up job. They had big dreams, and with his help, they were already making great strides on hardware and software. If they could get the test project off the ground, they'd attract investors; at least, that was the plan.

  He was still concerned about the company's pie-in-the-sky dreams, but he rolled with them for the moment. Everything had settled down into something of a routine when Galiet stormed into their apartment and slammed the door once she found out the news that they wouldn't be working on hyperdrives at all. And her college-speaking position had put her off for a month but had offered to send her to other campuses in their network, but she had to pay her own way to get there, plus her own lodging.

  “Bad day?” he asked. He'd already gotten an update at lunch. Apparently, she hadn't gotten anywhere in her attempt to attract attention in the afternoon.

  She shook her head. “It was like hitting a wall—a concrete wall. They were just …,” she wrung her hands in the air in frustration and then threw them out to her sides. “It's like they don't give a shit! Now that Caroline's gone, it’s like, situation normal, everyone go back to whatever you were doing!” she said.

  Bailey grimaced but nodded. He knew the feeling.

  “Look, if they don't want us here, fine. Obviously they don't, we're being shut out. We'll go back to Pyrax where we can be of use!”

  “We can't, babe, that ship has sailed,” Bailey said miserably. She looked at him, then slumped beside him. “Some honeymoon,” she sighed.

  “I know.”

  “I'm going to call someone. Anyone. Zekowitz. It’s obvious Commodore Logan can't do anything. He's like us, looking from the outside. It's like … like they are a clique. A group of kids who shut us out because we're not cool or something,” Galiet said, clearly still fuming.