by Chris Hechtl
The good news was that the intel from the Neos and the Rainbow resistance cell had allowed his small scratch force of Marines to take out a lot of the organized Horathian resistance. They had some issues in the cities and towns, but there were no signs of organized resistance in the hinterlands.
Of course, that was usually when all things went to hell. And, when word of the navy's pulling out got to the natives, they'd certainly have an excuse to get restless. The locals who had been won over to their side would get justifiably nervous. The supporters of the Horathians might get embolden to try something frisky.
He wrote a note to his people warning them of that—not that they wouldn't figure it out on their own.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Commodore I'r'll noted the last shuttle lift from Dead Drop just as she boarded the courier. She had left the blueprints for the additional work in the system with the picket force engineers—not that she expected them to do much. They would have their hands full running and maintaining their ships.
Still, it would be nice to see them put a few more modules together on the station or do something to improve the spaceports groundside.
Her courier was the last to leave; she'd left it a bit overlong to wrap-up some paperwork and to allow the crew to get some additional liberty. Not that they could do much with only a few safe zones on the planet to play in.
The convoy of support ships were already en route to the jump point to Garth as was the Dora ansible transport. Of course her courier would outrun them all in hyper.
She had managed to confirm that she would be the senior engineering officer in Garth once she arrived. That was good; she wouldn't catch any flack from anyone else. She had managed to download the engineering goals from Antigua. They had also given her a budget. She would need to spend the trip to Garth working out her priorities. Hopefully by the time of her arrival, she'd have a plan in place.
And hopefully, the yahoos of the regular fleet hadn't blown up anything she needed before she got there.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Lu Chu'ng Hock, aka Rainbow 4, shook his head as he heard another complaint. "Look, Mrs. Patterson, I get it. I do. But it's not up to me or you. And I know you are upset. But I have to tell you, I'm really rather busy," he said, indicating the desk. As one of the resistance, he'd been tapped to help reform the government. His skills at leadership and business began and ended with his involvement with his family's line of restaurants though. He was feeling a bit overwhelmed by the project.
Mrs. Patterson sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a hanky. "It's just, I had such grand plans!"
"I know," he said with a nod. "And you can still fulfill them, but it will take a bit longer to achieve them. Keep working on your goals. We're still going to get support from the Federation government to rebuild."
"We are?" she asked, looking up at him with sudden dawning hope. He tried to ignore the sight of greed in her green eyes too.
"Yes," he said with a nod. He didn't like being beholden to any government. None of the others in the government did either, but they weren't going to turn the charity down either.
"My late husband did a great job with his furniture and picture frame business …," Mrs. Patterson waved a hand.
"I bet he did. You said you are rebuilding it and looking to export?" he asked as he went and got her a cup of tea.
She nodded as he handed it to her. "Such a polite boy," she murmured, relaxing. "I'd planned to do enough business to export some of our goods. Dead Drop has plenty of trees, and I'm employing dozens of people …"
Lu nodded. That was certainly true and the main reason he's been forced to put up with the sniveling woman and get her to calm down and sort herself out.
"I was even exploring some light fixture designs. There is a lot of call for plastics and glass, but I know some contacts in the glass blowing business I can work with," she said. "But the nonsense over all the restrictions!" she waved a helpless hand, nearly spilling her tea.
"I'm sure you'll work your way through them. There are automated systems to help," he said.
"But, I thought that was where you came in?" she asked, lower lip quivering.
"I am supposed to oversee a small part of the rebuilding of businesses. I am still learning the finance side," he admitted. What he really wanted to do was to be in the military. But someone in the Federation State Department had pushed for him to be utilized on his homeworld for the time being.
He'd tried to complain, but he'd been quietly counseled to go with the flow for the moment and not make waves or future enemies.
"It's also this stupidity over incandescent lights over LEDs. And scanning? Security checks? Import and export fees?" she shook her head. "Taxes?"
He frowned. "I'm not sure about the lights," he said with a helpless shrug. The rest are a part of exporting or importing goods I believe." He pulled up the files and then nodded. "Yes. Everything has to pass through a security screening. They scan the goods. There are lists of goods that are banned."
She nodded.
"The fees are normal. We're discussing fees for our world too to help pay for the rebuilding," he said.
She blinked and pursed her lips. He could tell from her set expression she wasn't pleased over that news.
"Not a lot," he said hastily. "A half credit or less depending on the item. There are no export fees I believe, at least, not from us. And you don't have to pay import fees at ports where the goods pass through, just carriage and storage unless you go with a shipping company."
She nodded.
"Currently, we're one jump away from the frontlines, so we can't get much help from the growing Federation merchant houses. Once the front stabilizes in Garth, we'll be cleared for civilian traffic," he explained.
She nodded again.
"And, the merchant houses can help with the paperwork. You can negotiate with them through the ansible."
She frowned. "I don't like that. I don't like the idea of typing into that thing and trying to negotiate something so delicate. I mean it's so dry! So impersonal! We don't get to know each other, feel the other side out, make connections …." She shook her head.
"Well," he drawled cocking his head. "You could send someone to do the negotiating for you or if someone comes here wine and dine them here," he suggested.
She smiled brightly. "Such a devious boy," she gushed.
He chuckled at her charm.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Lieutenant Sri Savenan grimaced as he read the report. It would have been nice to get a bug in, but a third-hand account was the best he could get.
"So, they are pulling out. That's confirmed. But the Marines are coming in. So, we're going to be occupied," he said, looking at Ensign Jane Smith, his acting second-in-command.
She nodded as she brushed a bit of dirt and dandruff out of her short hair.
They had precious few officers and enlisted left in what some called the Horathian Resistance. Things were tight. They were still fighting but only harassing attacks. Asymmetrical warfare the lieutenant called it.
The Feds had proven time and time again that there was no way to directly confront them and win. Which meant they were forced to go to ground and try other methods of making themselves felt.
"The idea of sending nasty packages in their mail is out," he said, turning to Sergeant Barnes. The sergeant raised an eyebrow. "According to this," the lieutenant tapped the handwritten report from their spy in the Paterson company. "They scan everything."
"We might find a way around it," the sergeant rumbled, tucking an arm against his chest and rubbing his goatee.
Sri ignored the thoughtful look and the goatee. All of his people, especially the men, were looking decidedly scruffy these days. The ladies lacked makeup; the men had stopped shaving. He was tempted to call them on it, but the beards kept them a bit warmer in winter and were useful to help blend in to the population.
"Where are we with the resupply?"
"We're managed to get a f
ew more civilian firearms. Also that raid on that police depot last month," Jane reported. "Most of those were stunners and nonlethals though as you know," she said.
Sri grimaced but then nodded.
"If they are pulling out, people are going to be scared. We can use that," Sergeant Jinx stated. He was still a bit battered from the aborted spaceport attack. "We've got a small window before their real heavy forces come in and finish the job. The question is, do we act or do we hide and wait?"
"I don't think the navy is going to come and save our sorry asses anytime soon," Corporal Siller growled. He glanced at the two officers. "No offense."
"None taken. I happen to agree with you; the navy has other concerns," Sri stated mildly. "If Garth has truly fallen, the enemy is only a few jumps away from the homeworld itself."
"So, what do we do? Play our part and get martyred? They'd never even know we did it for them, if we were to do so," Sergeant Jinx said. "Or look after our own and play the long game?"
"I want to know a bit more about what we're up against before I make that decision. But for the moment we play the long game. Keep gathering resources and intelligence and look for a weak link in their chain we can exploit," Sri stated firmly.
The others around the room reluctantly nodded.
-~~~///^\~~~-
Ten days after the courier that brought the news of Garth's fall came a second courier arrived with news of the battle of the H001 jump point and Renee Mayweather's death. The little ship transmitted her IFF and then began uploading her logs and dispatches to the ansible. She just missed the departure of the convoys and Commodore I'r'll's courier.
Chapter 4
Antigua
Sometimes it sucked to be the CNO as well as the president and the secretary of war, especially times like this when he was called to discuss their war preparations in a closed-door Senate hearing.
He could have had the discussion in White Station. But they wanted the discussion on the record. He was fairly certain they just wanted to pull rank and remind him of the equality of the branches of government.
He had no problem with that—no problem at all. He had planned on releasing more and more power to the legislative branch as they rebuilt it. But they weren't quite there yet. They were far from a full galactic quorum. Sometimes he had to remind them of that. Until they had the full quorum, he would continue to exercise his emergency powers if necessary.
For the moment though, he decided to play nice and stick to answering their questions.
The root issue was money. More than one senator and congressman wasn't happy about how much money was going to the military. Many saw that money going to waste now that they were winning the war. They wanted that money to go to their homes to turn them into palaces and such.
Only a few played lip service to the idea that their freedom to want those things was bought and paid for by the very war machine they saw themselves in competition with.
He was polite as Senator Opie Merkoski, an up-and-coming senator from Hidoshi's World set the tone of the hearing. It was clear that the senator was a bit exasperated by the number of ships in the various fleets. Most likely he was the reason behind the hearing. Admiral Irons knew that some had pushed for an open hearing, but since they might be discussing sensitive material, he'd insisted on a closed-door hearing.
"How much more? You realize they cost real credits, right Admiral? Not just the ships, but the equipment, the manpower …"
"And the training, and the support structure, yes, Senator, I know this. I've been around the block a few decades," the admiral stated, taking some of the sting out of that statement with an ever-so-brief smile. "The answer is, as much as necessary. More is better. More means we can overwhelm the enemy. More means we won't be underestimating them hopefully. More means we have more defense in depth. More means we can free up resources and ships to defend strategic areas, locking them down and preventing the enemy from passing through to hit us from behind. More means we can send ships to different locations to do more things."
"What about after? What happens to these pretty ships after the war is finished? Didn't I read somewhere that the battle fleets won't be needed and you'll have to build thousands of cruisers to patrol the galaxy?"
"What about it? We're not there yet," the admiral stated. "Right now we've got two paths ahead of us. The first is a frontal assault right behind their Retribution Fleet. A frontal assault will be a brutal slugging match. They have orbital fortresses and their star system is stuffed with war material they've stolen from across the galaxy. Thousands, quite possibly hundreds of thousands of people, will die to take that star system."
More than one senator looked aghast at that announcement.
"We obviously don't have that now nor do we want to send our people into such a holocaust without softening the enemy up. That means we need to blockade them while preparing for a siege."
"And how do you propose to do that?"
"A blockade works on several levels. First, we'll have to place mines in hyperspace to kill their ships. And we'll have to have defenses where we expect them to come out in hyper if they get past the mines," the admiral stated.
"The idea is to bottle them up and contain them while we forge the final weapons needed to finish them off," the admiral stated. "By bottling them up, we'll cut them off from resources from outside their star system. But they'll become more determined than ever to break the blockade and reestablish that contact while also going on the offense," he stated.
He looked away for a long moment. After a few throat clearings from his audience, he turned back to them. "The problem with a blockade is that it is tempting to think the problem is solved," he said flatly. He could see a few vital signs react to that statement. "People want to forget about them, but they are still there. Still conspiring. Still building up their force in order to go back on the offensive. Meanwhile, our people have some breathing room. But they can't rest on their laurels either. We need to use that time wisely."
"I understand that," Senator Merkoski stated.
"What about the plague?" Senator Potts asked.
"We don't know if they sent a ship or ships out with it. But blockading them will mean stopping them from sending more or sending worse plagues out," the admiral stated.
Senator Potts shivered ever so slightly.
"For some it doesn't mean we can't stop more from coming out. There are ways for them to do that. But it does stop them from getting commands out. It stops ships and resources from going into them, thus strangling their supplies to their yard. They will only be able to draw on what they have in the system for support, material, and personnel as I said before."
"Unless someone can arrange a break-in, right?"
"Highly unlikely. Unless they got the warning out that we're blockading them, they'll send dribs and drabs from Sigma, which we can hopefully deal with. Remember, they are slower than us in hyper. They are still playing catch-up."
"Ah."
Senator Pott's eyes flared. "That's right! We do run rings around them. So, we can use that, right?"
"We can and we are."
Senator Merkoski gave his colleague a quelling look and then returned to the admiral. "Back to the blockade …"
"It's to buy us time. Time to build up our Sunday punch, the weapon to knock out their defenses and force them to their knees with the minimum amount of casualties."
"And how do you propose to do that?"
"One step at a time, Senator. Starting with attritioning them and teaching them a few hard lessons. Breaking their will is a big factor. But we're back to the ships you asked about. In order to eventually end this once and for all, we need those ships. We need them and the sailors to man them."
"And the soldiers to die to take their world?"
"Hopefully not many will die. We're not at that point."
"Not yet at any rate," Senator Potts said.
"No, not yet."
-~~~///^\~~~-
"Well!
That didn't quite go as planned," Senator Potts said, glaring at Senator Merkoski.
"Settle down, Alicia, it's just round one of a very long battle," he said airily as he poured himself a drink. He offered her a drink, but she shook her head.
"I still want to know where all the money is going. My staff has been looking into the finances. We've been rubber stamping everything. Did you see how much discretionary funding the navy has? It's high. Very high."
"And it's going to get higher," Senator Merkoski said as he finished pouring himself a drink and then capped the bottle. He swirled it and then took a sip.
"Yeah, but I took an interest after that meeting with Professor Gwildor. He had a point, even a small fraction of that money could be used for a science vessel or for other things," she said, clearly annoyed.
Opie grimaced as he put his drink down. He didn't believe for a second that Alicia had any interest in a science vessel. She'd just latched onto the numbers. "How much is a lot?"
"A lot. We don't know where the money goes, just that he's spending it. We've got blocks," she said.
He frowned thoughtfully. "Send me the file. I'll have my people take a look. Maybe we can break it down. And maybe we can pry some information out of the good admiral about just where some of this money is going."
Alicia snorted. "Yeah, good luck with that."
-~~~///^\~~~-
Admiral Irons was finally feeling like he could relax. The hearing had gone relatively well. They really couldn't give him too much of a hard time when they'd just had a victory. There wasn't much of a point to do so in a closed-door hearing. They weren't going to be happy about the next step in the plan though, but too bad.
The first squadron of prowlers were nearly finished with their working-up exercises. They'd been outfitted and the first convoys were on route. He was nearly ready to release the squadron to begin their movement once their crews had some liberty. It was going to be a long sail to the front, and they deserved time with their families.