Enemy of my Enemy (Horatio Logan Chronicles Book 1)

by Chris Hechtl

  The morning address hadn't gone over well with some of their senior passengers. They'd suddenly disdained eating at his table and had cloistered themselves in their quarters for their own discussions. That was fine with him.

  “I feel for the people we left behind,” Lieutenant Dvorsky said, breaking him out of his brief spat of wool gathering.

  “I do too. But he can look after himself,” the captain said. “I know we dropped him in the deep end of the shark tank. Hopefully, someone will throw him a life preserver,” he said, shaking his head. “I've got his report on chip. We'll pass it, the reports Falling Leaf compiled, and the chip from the Bekian administration over to the brass to sort out as soon as possible. Let them figure it out.”

  “Aye aye, sir.”

  “Sir, we're beginning to drop through the bands,” Ensign Caroline reported from the overhead. “We are on schedule to translate to real space,” the A.I. stated.

  “All right,” the captain said as he rose and tossed his linen napkin onto his plate. “We'll be there in a moment,” he said.

  “Two moments for one of us. I need to visit the little girl's room,” the XO quipped, making her skipper grin briefly in appreciation at her.

  “Shake a leg. We've got an appointment to keep,” the skipper said as he left the compartment.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Eleven weeks after leaving Bek, Caroline completed jumping the B104-109 chain and jumped back into the B-102C star system. "It seems every time we jump that chain we get better at it," Lieutenant Brock said with a smug smile.

  "Just keep breaking your record without breaking something on the ship, and I'll be happy Newt," the captain said. "Sensors?" he asked, looking over to CPO Zz'vv. The Veraxin had anticipated the question.

  "We've got the usual detritus and damaged ships, sir," the Veraxin reported. "Wait a minute … this is new …we've got an automated beacon, sir."

  "Oh? Comm?"

  "We're getting a hail from the ansible platform, Captain," Ensign Caroline, the ship's A.I. replied.

  "I see or don't," he said pointedly until Zz'vv put an image up on the main screen. It was blurry due to the extreme distance and gravitational lensing from their hyperspace wake.

  "Well, that can't be right," Oppie said.

  "Apparently, they couldn't get it further," Brock said.

  "Or they had a problem with the rapids," Ensign Tumilak said.

  "Essentially what I just said," Brock said reprovingly to the Neowalrus.

  "Must have missed that," the walrus replied in a mumble, twitching his bristling mustache.

  "Send our IFF to the platform. Let them know we're here," the captain ordered.

  "Aye aye, sir," the A.I. replied.

  "We'll send our report," the captain said. "Let our passengers know," he said, turning to the A.I.

  "Aye aye, sir," the A.I. stated again. "Done."

  "Sir, there is a log on board. We're downloading it now. Right off the top there is a warning that the ansible's bandwidth is extremely limited," the A.I. stated.

  "So no long speeches?" the captain quipped.

  "Eight bits per second, sir," Ensign Caroline replied. "Definitely not."

  "Yes, I see that," the captain replied with a frown. "We'll need to go over the report. Just send what needs to be sent," he stated.

  "The good news is it will continue to transmit even when we aren't here. We can load the buffer and let it transmit on its own, sir," the A.I. stated.

  "Well, there is that," the captain replied. "You said news?"

  "Apparently, there is a small news file. I'm just sent an inquiry. The closer we are the better the transmission rate will be," the A.I. replied.

  "Nice try, but we've got a date in Nuevo," the captain said with a sniff.

  "Well, that's not good," the A.I. stated.

  "Now what?"

  "Downloading for your review before I put it on the ship's data network, sir," the A.I. said. The captain blinked when a new file appeared in the inbox on his HUD.

  The captain frowned as he scanned the news from the Federation. It was brief. Caroline was still adding to it, but what he saw he didn't like. The news from the war front jumped out at him.

  "Well, that sucks," he muttered.

  "Sir?"

  "Pass the news to the bridge officers and our senior passengers. We'll open it to all eyes in a bit, Caroline," the captain ordered coolly.

  There were small gasps a moment later as the other officers downloaded and opened the news files.

  "I see what you mean, sir," Brock murmured.

  "Not good," Oppie said, shaking his head.

  "Understatement of the century," Brock replied.

  "True," Captain Perth stated, sitting back. Tumilak seemed ready to say something but held off.

  "I'm curious about how Nuevo and Bek will react to the news of this thing being here instead of where it was supposed to end up."

  "We'll probably be the ones to tell them. Nuevo is going to get the news first unless that transport went to … no, I see it turned around and went back to B101a1. Well, it'd be nice if they get this harbor pilot program going. I'll say one thing, they need more than just us doing it, like twenty or thirty ships. No way can one team do all the work," Oppie said. "Tumilak, you do good work, but again, I wish there were more of you."

  The Neowalrus shook his massive head. "Gods of space I hope they get more. I mean, I know a lot of people are signing on but …." He shrugged his shoulders making some of his blubber flex and wiggle.

  "You'd think more would sign-up from Epsilon Triangula," Brock murmured. "Especially after what happened."

  "I think after what happened to those that got captured they'd be a bit leery about signing up, sir," Ensign Kapueo Mahoe stated. He ran a hand over his mohawk fin as he nodded to Tumilak. "Ready for relief?"

  "Ready," the walrus said, turning over the helm to the Chimera. He got out of the grav tank and stretched.

  "I'm not looking forward to manning the con of a big ship. I mean, Caroline is nimble. She has military grade hardware. Something big," he flicked his flippers wide, "is going to be like flying a sky whale in a hurricane."

  "Never done it, never want to do it," Kapueo replied as he jacked in.

  "Spoil sport. Where's your sense of adventure?" Brock teased.

  "I lost it the last time we came through the rapids. I think I should get a lot of insurance out on my rubbery hide. Both in case of loss and in case I have a heart attack. Something tells me I'm going to need it," Tumilak said.

  "Can I be the beneficiary?" Kapueo asked in mock earnest.

  Tumilak frowned, eyeing him. His bristling mustache twitched.

  "I think he's serious," Brock snorted.

  "I am," Kapueo said, wide eyed.

  "You do realize, if we lose the ship you'd be on it too, Ensign," Captain Perth replied slowly from his seat.

  Kapueo cocked his head. "Well, yeah, that'd suck I suppose," he replied. Oppie rolled his eyes.

  "Right," Tumilak drawled. "Okay, joking aside, yeah, we need to discuss this with the admirals. I know we're supposed to be sailors and stuff, but there should be hazard pay or something—bonuses. I think I understand why the hyper navigation guild got started. People just take us for granted. Use us as a door mat. I'm not happy about that. I know you aren't either." the others shook their heads. "Right, didn't think so. And I think it is a loss of our talent to just be doing this, back and forth. Our careers are on hold. The stress alone …," he shook his massive head.

  "Yeah," Captain Perth said quietly. "It is something to be concerned about."

  "And we're back to my point about needing more people here," Brock sighed.

  "Right." Tumilak frowned. He turned to the fishman in the tank. "I tell you what. I'll contact my folks; you do yours, and so on. Friends, family, put the word out. See if any bite. We can talk to the Admiralty about maybe dangling sign-up bonuses or something."

  "Do their dirty work for them? Doesn't seem fai
r," Kapueo drawled.

  "You want to do this on your own?" Tumilak demanded. Kapueo shook his head, eyes wide. "I didn't think so."

  "That doesn't mean I'd wish it on anyone, even a Neodog."

  "Hey!" a Neodog rating barked from where she was seated. "I resemble that remark."

  "Misery loves company," the fishman said. "Sorry, sailor," he said with a look to the dog. The dog flicked her ears.

  "Time to get back to work, people. Nav, plot a course to the Nuevo jump point. Feed it to the helm when you've got it ready, and Helm, execute it at our best speed. Meanwhile," the captain got up and stretched. "I'll be in my ready room reading this," he said. "Oppie, you've got the conn."

  "Aye aye, sir," Oppie said. "Brock, Tumilak, go get your downtime while you can."

  "Aye aye," both officers said. Brock cracked his knuckles. "I'm looking for a burger. You?"

  "A nice salmon steak would be nice, fried with a bit of lemon," the walrus replied.

  Brock snorted. "To each his own I guess. Chess after?"

  The ensign eyed him and then shrugged. "Sure, if you don't cheat this time," he growled.

  "Muwha? Would I do that?" the navigator demanded, hand over his heart. Oppie snorted loudly. "You stay out of this!" he mock growled as the officers headed to the door. "I'll have you know I'm as innocent as the new fallen snow!" he said.

  "Yeah, snow that's tinged with yellow maybe," Tumilak growled. That sparked a soft laugh from the captain.

  "Captain, please! Don't encourage him!"

  "I'm not. He's doing fine on his own," the captain replied as they left the bridge.

  Oppie shook his head. "Newt did get that course plotted, right?" he demanded.

  "Plotted and I'm executing it now, sir," Kapueo replied.

  "Next time let's be a bit more formal about it. You know, for the log," the Neoorangutan said as he logged off his station and moseyed over to the hot seat. "Caroline, the boss will want us to transmit an abbreviated log, correct?"

  "It's what he said, sir," she replied.

  "You might want to work on that. Recommend the same for our passengers. Can you truncate Commodore Logan's reports?" he asked.

  "Those are encrypted so no. I can break them into packets though."

  "Better run that past the skipper first," the Neoape replied as he settled himself in the chair.

  "Best speed to the jump point, sir?" Kapueo asked.

  "Yes," the Neoape replied.

  "Aye aye, sir. Course plotted and executing now. Full impulse," the ensign stated for the record. He flicked his fingers, and the ship got underway.

  "Now that we're moving, you …," Oppie heard a familiar groan. He grinned slightly. "Now now, Ensign, you know it's for the best."

  "If you say so, sir. I just think you like pounding me into sushi," the fishman protested. But he already had the tactical sim program loaded Oppie noted.

  "You know you have to keep up with your studies. And since dawdling along in subspace is dead easy for you, you can work on catching up on your training. We can't have you falling behind, can we?"

  "Sure," the Chimera drawled. "Keep telling yourself that, sir," he sighed theatrically as the Neoape loaded a favorite one on one scenario.

  Chapter 32

  Horatio worked on a series of side projects related to the ship design in order to help retool the navy's subcontractors to modern standards. He liked it in that it gave him a chance to meet the players involved. He didn't like that the navy was so reliant on the subcontractors to build and supply the fleet.

  The modern navy, both from the old Federation and the new, had kept that to less than half as much as possible. Being dependent on a civilian contractor meant lobbyists, graft, and corruption invariably infested the process. By keeping at least 51 percent of the production within the hands of the navy, they could keep costs down and get the job done with a minimum of interference.

  At least, that had been the theory. Now he was wondering if it had ever really met reality the way the starry eyed people had expected it to do. Somehow he now had his doubts, he thought darkly.

  Whenever they seemed to hit a wall with the hyperdrive, Horatio had them switch to another problem while he did an end run around the logjam. He snuck some of the stuff to Galiet and Bailey to run past them and get their input. Since he knew ONI was most likely watching and waiting for him to trip up, he knew he couldn't trust the vid chat, and both of the Neochimps were busy so he had to arrange periodic visits groundside to run the problems past them.

  He was careful to keep his questions related to general hyperspace issues. Each visit he stored their conversation internally and played it back internally to answer problems in the design process with the staff. Any of their questions or problems they brought up or ran into he did likewise.

  The third week into the project he took on another problem. He had to fight to get the ship named. A named ship class had more of a chance to get somewhere; it had appeal. If enough civilian contractors got behind it, they'd unleash their lobbyists to help push it through the red tape as well he knew.

  But really, he was tired of the alpha numeric project study they'd been saddled with. It was a mouthful that just about everyone in the staff tended to forget or trip up on.

  It took the better part of a week before he finally got it through the red tape. He'd carefully chosen a name that wasn't on the rolls in Bek or in the outer Federation. Ilmarinen, the eternal hammerer, named for a Terran Finnish god of the forge who had been reputed to be unlucky in love.

  Admiral Creator of Things had signed off on the name with a single comment to put it to bed and move on. That had quelled most of the discussion from the peanut gallery. Some had been amused by it. When Lieutenant Si ran it past her boss, Admiral Zekowitz nodded in approval. She made certain his approval got back through the grapevine to the commodore however.

  By the beginning of the second month, the knockdown of all the problems that cropped up shook Commander Dreamer of Ships out of his pessimism. Horatio turned the T'clock loose on the detailed design stages of the sections of the ship that were fully blocked out while the rest of the team continued working on the thornier issues.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  “Do you think this will work?” Sven asked, clearly worried about the plan. “I think it is too much to ask for to get a knockout punch right off, sir,” he said, eyeing his Veraxin boss.

  “No, it won't. Not initially. But it will expose his shenanigans and make him and his supporters uncomfortable. They'll scurry about trying to prove they are doing something.

  “And Logan?”

  “That's why we'll use reporters we know ONI know are in our pockets. Soo it won't come back to him,” L'r'kk said.

  “Yes, sir,” Sven said.

  “You don't like exposing him? Possibly using him?”

  “He's an honorable man caught in a horrible situation, sir. I know we'll do what is best for Bek, but I'd like to think we'll try to not sacrifice someone like him unless we have to.”

  “For the greater good we might.”

  “Let's just hope it doesn't come to that, sir,” Sven said.

  ~<><{<^>}><>~

  Monday, the third broke with a series of explosive articles. It started as a small rain, a drizzle of blog and forum posts that quickly led to reporters picking up the story and running with it. They couldn't resist the itch to get involved. The public knew the media were like Terran sharks. Whenever they scented blood in the water, they circled and from time to time bit to see what tasted good and to see if their prey was wounded enough to make a mistake.

  The thrust of the series of stories was simple, that Childress wasn't following orders of Irons or the present administration. Since it was the administration itself that had leaked the story, it had a great deal of backing. Admiral Childress's civilian supporters were caught off guard and couldn't kill the stories fast enough to do their side any good. Each attempt to do so only added credence that there was something there to it. />
  The morning was capped with an expose article showcasing Childress defying orders with a bullet point presentation on the orders and what he hadn't done. It hit the morning news like a bombshell, citing unnamed sources in the administration and the navy which pushed it into the associated press where everyone picked it up.

  The proof the media pointed to was damning enough, there was a lack of things getting to the public. In industry there was a lack of equipment retooling, and a lack of production of modern parts and equipment despite the small smattering of changes that had started up the month prior. It wasn't good enough, and everyone knew it. They also accused the navy administration of mismanagement, citing sources that said that Commodore Logan and Rear Admiral Zekowitz were not being used as they should.

  Zek read the article and groaned. He hoped it would get buried, but the major media outlets picked it up. That was too much to ask for however. By 9 a.m. in the capital, the buzz had continued to build and had hit the morning press briefing by the Bekian administration. The press secretary didn't deny “relations were strained” and with that as a backhanded confirmation, the story took on a life of its own and began to swell, taking over the other networks, including those in the pocket of Childress and his supporters.

  The friendly media outlets took on the story with kid gloves, making certain to put the story out as allegations and unfounded rumors. They tried to spin it, but they only added to the questions others began to ask.

  Admiral Childress was forced to play defense with the navy's public affairs department. He put out a simple blunt statement stating that the orders from Admiral Irons were classified. That didn't help kill the story, quite the contrary as Captain Prescott pointed out.

  When the captain was pressed, she blamed Admiral Sienkov and Admiral Pashenkov for not initiating changes on their watch. “We're working on the problem,” she said, which fueled the flames with a partial admission that there was a problem. She tried to spin it by an admission stating that “the recent shake-ups in the chain of command were still causing problems.”