by Chris Hechtl
“Aye, sir.”
Phil's streamlining of the convoy escorts was also approved of. Having them do the turnaround in Briev saved time since Triang was defended. They didn't need to escort them all the way in. Briev didn't have a port to resupply from, but they could do that in Agnosta just fine.
Moving some of the Agnosta picket out in a forward deployment of B-452C he wasn't comfortable with. The small ships wouldn't be much of a deterrent to a large raiding force. Nor could they warn Agnosta quickly since their small size and small hyperdrive meant the larger ships could theoretically outrun them in hyper even if they had a head start. He frowned thoughtfully, toying with the idea of countermanding the order before he finally left it alone. He did make a note to keep an eye on the situation however.
He also approved the transfer of Bounty to Admiral White's command. They'd have to get the orders to catch up with the ship though since she was in transit playing shepherd to a convoy of fat freighters. Fortunately, the ansibles were helping out there.
Bounty was due into Triang with a convoy of personnel and ship components. Her orders had been for her to do a turnaround in the system; instead, she'd drop the sheep off under the protection of the picket there, refuel, and then head back to Briev and then on to B-452C and then Kathy's World and finally Protodon.
Ian would definitely approve he thought wryly. The man wanted action; he wanted to go on the offense. He'd get his chance the admiral thought as he played with his lips.
He wasn't comfortable about leaving Bounty out in the cold though. If White didn't take Protodon, Bounty could walk into a system expecting it to be in friendly control. Then again, the ship had proven she could look after herself. Ian knew what he was doing.
Admiral Irons was still getting used to being in command, not just of the navy but also the Federation. Sprite was calling it Interim Federation Acting President for the time being, at least until something catchier came along to yank his chain with he thought with a pang. She knew he was uncomfortable with the whole idea. He was saddled with it until he could arrange galaxy-wide elections to get it off his shoulders. That could take decades, possibly a century if he was unlucky he thought gloomily.
“Some people want power. They think of the thrill not the responsibility. They are idiots,” he murmured out loud.
“I wouldn't know sir, I am still too new,” Protector said mildly. Irons snorted.
“All right, what's next?”
“Governor Randall wants a meeting. I believe he wants to pick your brain on a few things and get some reassurances that things are still going according to plan.”
“Understood.”
---<>---<>---
Sprite realized her move out of Admiral Irons had been premature. It was a hassle having to be unplugged and carried to different locations with the admiral. But there was nothing she could do about it, Protector was in the driver's seat in the admiral's AI cores now. Proteus was there with him, and they were starting to bond.
She'd thought that the admiral would be able to use his keys to make things while she applied her portion of the keys through the net. Apparently that had been wishful thinking she thought. John could do small things; things that weren't too classified. Things he had already received his keys for before he had been exposed to Trinity. But it wasn't enough. So, he got to carry her around like some sort of fifth wheel. A security blanket? She threw the similes into a search engine and then after the first page came up deleted the entire thing as the distraction it was.
Commander Wong sent her another file to check. She tossed it into her automated checksum and pulled up the file they had copied from the Lemnos database. They hadn't gathered the entire database. That was far too much for Xavier to hold, but the admiral had taken on a selection of material he had thought would be immediately useful. Upgrades that would serve to help give them a slim advantage over the enemy. But the trice damned alien AI Wraith had sabotaged many of the files and blueprints in subtle ways. They were still finding the damage.
And her copy of the database wasn't trustworthy either. The old saying about garbage in, garbage out ran through her buffer as the file comparison concluded. Aha! One said a decimal point was out of place. The other said that two digits were transposed in another part of the reactor core. But which was correct? She wasn't certain so she flagged both and then sent them back to the commander with a note. She also sent a link to her comparison bot again. Hopefully, he'd get the message to do the check on his own and not lean on her. She was the admiral's chief of staff not a dumb computer tool.
“I see Admiral Subert is shaking things up,” Sprite said to the admiral.
The admiral blinked and then looked over to Sprite's core. It was on a hover cart next to his seat on the shuttle.
“Yes. Pyrax needed a good shake-up. We'll see how it goes. What are you up to?” he asked, setting his tablet aside for the moment.
“Oh the usual. Commander Wong wanted me to run another check on a blueprint. I've told him and told him where to do it, but he can't seem to figure it out.”
“He's delegating it.”
“I'm not in his chain of command. I outrank him!” Sprite pointed out.
“True.” The admiral cocked his head and then cleared his throat. “So, what did you find this time?”
“And you have no sympathy for either of us. Work it out. Typical,” Sprite said mockingly. “Fine, be that way. I uncovered more sabotage from the Xeno Wraith but no trace of AI,” she reported, sending a memo to Intelligence about her findings.
“Oh?”
“It was subtle. A decimal point out of place and some transposed digits. I'm not sure which is which so I flagged it for Commander Wong to look into. He can run a simulation and see which works best.”
“And then you'll know which copy to keep?”
“Yes.”
The admiral nodded. “And you let Fletcher know of course?”
“Yes. I just sent a memo to Intelligence. I believe the commander will update the files for Pyrax once he's done his check,” she observed dryly.
“Good. You and the commander are our experts on electronics and coding,” the admiral observed. “You've finished stamping out the viruses in the net?”
“Those that are active. I've inoculated the firewalls, but I don't know if it will work well. I may be immune to the damn thing, but it did get into one of the best security networks in the Federation.”
“True, but we know it's in the net now. Somewhere.”
“It could be anywhere. The thing is called a Wraith for a reason,” Sprite said with her version of a sigh. “It could have even gotten into a ship's net—a civilian ship. I've told intel to watch for it.”
“Good,” the admiral nodded.
“And do you have any more clues about our current predicament? Or should I say, your promotion, Mister President?” Sprite asked with a hint of malicious amusement in her voice.
The admiral scowled blackly. “Not funny, Commander.”
“I think it's hilarious considering you've never run for office. What is that saying? If I am nominated, I will not run? If elected, I will not serve? Yet, here you are.”
“I don't have a choice,” the admiral sighed, rubbing his brow. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. He'd intended to dive into the upgrades and yard expansion when he got back from Lemnos. Instead he'd been torn between that, the damned virus, and the politics. At least Governor Randall was amused by it all. Amused and sympathetic once Irons let it be known he was going to saddle the governor with the job when he got the chance.
Sprite was as puzzled over the last President's bit of prescience as he was. It didn't make sense to either of them, and to an AI that was a troubling loop. After sifting through the various clues, she'd explored various ideas on time travel. She had dug up a few links, most of them had turned up bust. But one link to a project Janus had been interesting.
Unfortunately, she didn't have classification to get into the file. Admira
l Irons did, but he'd just shrugged it off when she'd brought it up and hadn't told her what was in the file.
She sulked a bit and went back to the beginning as the shuttle banked on its approach to the ground. She should remind the admiral that transit time to and from various places, including the planet, put him and her at risk, and it wasted time. She jotted out a reminder to herself, and then went back to musing.
The name implied something about doors. About beginnings and endings she inferred from the name, though that might be something else entirely. Some literalists were afoot with names, but some were randomly assigned or were deliberately assigned names that had nothing to do with the project. Some projects she questioned as well since they may have been inputted by the Xeno wraith.
“I don't know. It's a mystery,” the admiral said with a shrug. “Unfortunately, the files are either in another research facility or lost when Sol was destroyed.”
“You don't think there was a backup?” Sprite asked as they hit a patch of turbulence and then landed.
“No,” the admiral frowned. “Well, there could be, I don't know. And wherever this Janus was done, it could still be there, just …,” he shrugged, “abandoned or whatever. I don't know.”
“And you're not willing to tell me what it was?”
“I don't know, Commander. Something about a time travel project, I told you that. But there was a warning in the file to not tell anyone who doesn't have the proper classifications. And you ….”
“Don't. Understood.”
“Are you staying here or coming with me?”
Sprite thought for a brief microsecond. She had come along because the shuttle picking the admiral and her up from the destroyer production line had carried them to the planet. “I really do need to get back to work,” she stated.
“You could check out a robotic body, Sprite. Live a little,” he said.
She couldn't help but play a laugh track over the small speaker. “Are you serious? Be restricted to a couple of sensors? In a mechanical body? Pass. I'll jump into the net from here. See what I can see,” she said.
“Very well,” the admiral said, getting to his feet. “I'll order the bird secured then. Enjoy,” he stated.
“Yeah,” she said, already accessing the civilian net. She sent off a note to Cookie to alert her the admiral was dining out. Most likely he or Protector had forgotten that little necessity.
---<>---<>---
Edna Garrett aka “Cookie” received an email. She frowned. She had gotten used to electronic communications. She'd found texting and emails simple and quick but lacking in formality. They lacked the personal touch, the interaction between people. You couldn't tell much of tone or other cues from a simple message.
This one was from Sprite she realized. Commander Sprite she corrected herself with a slight frown. Her eyes traced over the lines and then she nodded. Well! She had the evening mostly to herself. The admiral wouldn't be returning until late into the evening if past history of such groundside trips were any sort of guide.
That meant that snip of a woman wouldn't be around she thought in approval. She relished the opportunity to tell her so when she called. Miss O'Niell seemed nice on the surface, but Edna could smell trouble on the red haired reporter. There was also something there; a hint of some coolness in the way the admiral and the AI treated the woman. She wasn't sure what it meant.
She did not approve of April but didn't say so. She had no problem with the older man, younger woman situation; after all, Irons didn't have anyone from his generation around who wasn't under his chain of command. No, there was something there she didn't like. An undercurrent she was picking up from Irons and Sprite, a sort of distancing he was doing from the woman. He took her favors and pleasure but was slightly cold and rebuffed her advances for information.
A knock on the door made her look up in surprise. She checked the video camera and then went to the door. “Yes, Chief?” she asked as she opened the door. She glanced at the pair of marine sentries and then to the Neo with polite interest.
“Is the admiral in?”
“No, I'm afraid he is out and about again.”
“Ah,” Chief Riley Quigon, neo gorilla, said with a resigned shake of his massive head. “I was hoping to bend his ear about a problem I've been having.”
“A problem, Chief? I can let the admiral know. Or you can email him,” Edna stated. “I can request Commander Sprite put you on his schedule for a conference …,” she stated with a hint of a suggestion in her voice.
“No, no, it's … darn it, no it's not all right. I'm just butting heads with people who don't know any better. I'll give Commander Sprite a call then.”
“Very well. Good day then,” the older woman said primly, closing the door.
---<>---<>---
The chief walked away dissatisfied. He was having trouble with Ensign Olivia Raynor, LTJG Robin Siegel, and Sergeant Sn'll. The Veraxin bug in particular was a royal pain in his furry ass. The Veraxin marine had a chip on his shoulder; he thought he knew it all about training. They were constantly butting heads over training.
If training was his only problem, he'd be … well, not quite in heaven but close. He had some civilian issues to deal with as well, stuff he wasn't comfortable talking to John about. Maybe over a couple of beers … if they were off duty and out of uniform. How did one talk to a buddy—he assumed they were still friends—how did he talk to the man about the proposals he was getting from gorilla family groups? Some were pretty forward. He snuffled a snort and kept walking. He could just imagine how that conversation would go. He shook his head. He'd get a handle on it, one way or another.
He passed Commander Sindri and paused. The dwarf paused as well. “Just come from the admiral's quarters I take it?” Sindri asked.
“Yes sir,” the chief replied, coming to attention. “He's not in. He's ‘out and about,’” he quoted.
Sindri glared at him and then shook his head. “Damn it.”
“I take it you have a problem too?”
“Something like that,” the engineering commander stated in a deep baritone.
“Anything I can do to help, Commander?”
“Just … adjusting to things,” the commander replied with an uncomfortable shrug. He looked about them briefly.
The Neogorilla nodded sagely. “I see. I'm having similar problems,” he stated. “If you need my help, let me know. I can straighten some problems out without it getting official sometimes, sir.”
“Good to know. I'll think it over then,” the commander rumbled. He rolled his shoulder and then smacked his fists together. “I think since I can't bitch about the problems and get them off my chest I'll go work out some of my frustrations in the gym.”
“Interesting,” the chief said, cocking his head. “Want some company?”
“Um …,” the dwarf sized him up and then snorted. “Sure, why not?”
---<>---<>---
Sindri felt battered and bruised but gratified a few hours later. “Gods of space I'm going to feel that in the morning,” he said, rolling his shoulder and flexing his bicep. Mixing it up with a gorilla did get one's frustrations out, but boy, was it painful.
He had all sorts of issues. Adjusting to his new boss for instance. The viruses were getting sorted out; they no longer had problems with the fighter or small ship production. He was still leery about the software though.
Lately he'd been having issues with some of the sleepers as well as Lieutenant Commander Tra’jeki and Lieutenant Waters Brightly in fortress command. Both officers wanted more resources devoted to their commands. More than what was budgeted.
Then there was Lieutenant JG Qr'll'ck, a female Veraxin and one of his deputies in the yard. She was a hard charger, but she ran roughshod over her people. So much so that BUPERS was getting buried in transfers from time to time. Every time he gave a few of the whiners some space and downtime, she wised up for a day or so. She'd come to realize she needed them when she didn't have them aro
und to snarl at. But then once they were back and things went back into high gear she'd forget after a couple of days, and the process would start all over again.
Kinja, his other deputy, didn't have that problem. She was still playing catch-up, but she was a good boss. He shook his head. If he could take Kinja's attitude and transplant it into Qr'll'ck or the bug's knowledge into Kinja, or hell, both, they'd be outstanding.
They couldn't get along together though. They were like two bulls in a china shop he thought. And then there was Lieutenant, no Lieutenant Commander Wong. The newly promoted raven Chimera was pretty full of himself. He did know his shit, and since he was another friend of Irons, Sindri did his best to get along with the man—bird, man, whatever. At least he was getting some of the headaches that damned Xeno virus had done with its sabotage under control. They were still getting a handle on all the changes and problems though. And everything had to run through Wong, which caused a huge bottleneck.
His first foray into destroyer construction with Yris'ka'th had been a hit with the admirals, but he hadn't been able to follow it up with a sister ship like he had hoped he would. They'd pulled out all the stops to get just the one ship out the lock while also keeping up with their planned schedules. He could see and understand what John had been talking about with the plan. One step at a time. Baby steps.
He also knew he'd burned out a few people in the process of building the ship. True it sucked to lose the personnel once they'd been trained, but he reasoned it was better to find the weak links in the chain and replace them before they really got going. They thought that had been pressure? He snorted as he flexed his hands. They didn't know what real pressure was!
He shook his massive head. The destroyer production line was finally up and running. John had finished keying in the first production run of parts the prior shift so that meant he could leave it to Kinja to oversee the process. Oh there would be some teething issues, there always were, but he was fairly confident they'd get it done.