Federation Reborn 1: Battle Lines

by Chris Hechtl

  The admiral blinked. “I see.”

  “On the flip side, sir, Lieutenant Taylor is a good officer on paper. I won't go into detail with his record since I am not familiar with it, but I know he has less than a decade in uniform and less than four years practicing medicine. You can be the judge there, sir.”

  “I see.” The admiral looked away. “Your loyalty to your fellow officers is commendable, Captain.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “She really ran out? Just gave up all that for … what?”

  Horatio nodded. “It was that or resign, sir. We don't need that sort of negative publicity right now. You backed her into a corner by jumping her chain of command and treating her like crap, sir,” Horatio said quietly.

  The admiral eyed him. “Thank you for being honest with me, Captain.”

  Horatio met his eyes squarely. “Always, sir. I'm not a yes man. You need the straight dope to make the right decision as I was taught, no blinders or filters.”

  “I appreciate it,” the admiral grunted. He sat heavily.

  “We will miss her. She had a deft touch with personnel, students, and patients. I've known her since she was in diapers,” Horatio said with a grimace. “But perhaps her leaving is a good thing. It will allow her to spread her wings a bit. And from Antigua she can take center stage with managing and overhauling the health care system in the sector. Such as it is,” he said, shaking his head.

  “Okay, so that leaves some mighty big shoes to fill. And you pointed out Lieutenant Taylor is too junior to some of the others in medical, and they know it.”

  “If you wish to promote him over more senior officers, that is up to you, sir. Of course he was an ensign up until a few months ago I believe. So that might be construed as nepotism in some circles,” Horatio said mildly. Subert darkened a bit with a scowl. “And even if he was promoted to say a lieutenant commander's rank, he'd still be outranked by several of the current personnel. They have been in that grade longer than he has.” he warned. The admiral nodded grudgingly. “There have been a lot of changes and shifting about in people,” Horatio observed, spreading his hands apart in supplication. “I am not in personnel, so I don't know who is available now with the proper skill set to do the job, sir,” Horatio finally finished with a shrug.

  The admiral eyed him for a long moment. “I see. All right, go back to the yard then, Captain; we'll handle it. Dismissed,” Admiral Subert stated flatly.

  “Aye aye, sir,” Horatio said, coming to attention with a snap. He saluted, then about-faced and left. The admiral watched him go for a moment. When the door shut behind him, he shook his head and keyed his desktop monitor back on.

  ---<>---<>---

  Once medical, personnel, and the yard were reasonably under control, the new admiral turned his eyes to training. He saw it as a major break that there were so many problems and wasn't afraid to voice that. Matilda watched impotently as the admiral went around her to completely overhaul her setup, firing some of her people and even putting two up on charges for insubordination. The massive unrest and changes were hard to bear.

  She put in for a transfer to Agnosta after the last senior staff meeting. The admiral's chief of staff was not surprised by the transfer request when it came past his desk. He put it through to the admiral quietly. The admiral saw it and grunted.

  “They are dropping like flies, sir. Pretty soon you'll have the round pegs in the right holes.”

  “Yeah, but filling them is a problem. Damn it …. Can't these people handle a little criticism?”

  Saul saw an opening and decided to take a risk. What the hell, right, he reasoned; if the admiral didn't like it, he could fire him or he'd transfer. “To some degree, yes sir. But as you pointed out, they didn't come up in the navy. They don't have our traditions or training. Many have been making it up as they go along.”

  “Well, news for them, the traditions are theirs as well,” Subert said. He waved a hand. “Fine fine, approved. Find out who her exec is. Hopefully we can work with him or her.”

  “I think we have an ensign as the acting XO in that slot now, sir. The job usually calls for a lieutenant commander, but we're in short supply. There has been a lot of hemorrhaging due to Agnosta and Antigua and well, our arrival,” the chief of staff admitted. The admiral winced.

  “Now I understand what John went through. Why anyone would want this job …,” Subert shook his head. “They've got to be insane.”

  ---<>---<>---

  Matilda took the news of the approval with a nod. She didn't mention anything to the media who mobbed the college looking for a story. She only politely informed them to speak with the navy's public affairs department.

  Her initial transfer was to Agnosta to oversee and overhaul the marine officer's and advanced college training courses there. She boarded the next available freighter and left.

  She regretted not giving Horatio a hug. The old dinosaur could use all the luck he could get. She felt bad about running out on him, but she had had enough.

  Trixie had considered a naval career until Admiral Subert's arrival. She had to admit; some of her rants had possibly poisoned the girl towards the man and towards a naval career. That was fine. She felt for the girl though. She was determined to finish out the semester before she transferred to graduate studies in Antigua.

  ---<>---<>---

  The backers of the refurbished star liner project Oasis of Space XCIV and investors trying to force the purchase of the captured civilian ships attempted to get Admiral Subert to help them. There were six of them, five men and one very strikingly beautiful woman. The woman was rather scantily dressed in a cut-down business suit. She was pure eye candy he thought, but what an eyeful! Hormones rose to the surface, attempting to scramble his orderly thought processes just from her scent and sight alone. He used his implants to ruthlessly put his hormones into check.

  He listened politely as they laid out their case. They hadn't been able to get some of the ships out into deep space or out of the solar system. The star liner could go around the star system, but that was it. They didn't want to risk going out of the star system without a full overhaul. They also needed trained personnel to man the ship's bridge and engineering.

  “So you want what exactly from me? I'm sorry, but all of our slips are full. Our repair slips are also full right now,” Admiral Subert stated. He wasn't sure what possessed Saul to allow the group into his office and presence.

  “That is another problem. All of the best and brightest seem to be going into the navy. We need to change that,” one of the backers complained. According to the admiral's HUD, the man was a representative of Dean Industries. They were tied up in that whole Walker debacle. He turned his head. Another man was a representative of Madra according to the files. Again, a Walker link.

  He wrinkled his nose slightly. “Not from my perspective you don't,” the admiral snorted.

  “They are getting paid more. They have the educational incentive, the medical and retirement benefits … how can we compete with that??” He shook his head. “What do you expect, that's why we get the dregs. And they get to shoot weapons.” He waved a hand in disgust.

  “They get to lay their lives on the line to protect civilians like you,” the admiral said tartly as his temper started to fray.

  It was obvious to Phil that they were eager to take advantage of the shake-up in the navy. He, however, was unmoved. At least one of them he recognized as being under some sort of cloud. He'd read some of the research; one of the industrial magnets had been in the whole Walker mess. This guy had been involved in it too, but they hadn't been able to nail his ass yet. He didn't want to have anything to do with him or any cause he championed. He crossed his arms as he sat back and listened to their spiel, then when they tapered off he leaned forward onto his elbows and put his hands together gently. “The answer is no,” he said simply.

  The striking young woman immediately pouted. She had been there as some sort of alluring eye candy the admiral ju
dged dispassionately. He'd seen that game played before; get the target's hormones up and they'll be ready to agree to anything. Normally they softened a target up before they went in for the kill though. They'd been too eager he thought in silent mental bemusement.

  “We thought you would be amenable to reason,” the young woman said softly with a simper and slight wiggle and jiggle. The admiral snorted softly when she bent to give him an eyeful of cleavage.

  He knitted his fingers together and met her blue eyes with his own steady green ones. “You thought wrong. My priority is to protect shipping, not to promote it. We are having a difficult enough time doing that as it is.”

  One of the lawyers frowned. “But Admiral Irons said he wanted to rebuild the Federation ….”

  “Admiral Irons is not here. I am,” Phil said, eyes cutting briefly to the lawyer and then back to the woman. He could feel a test of wills there and wasn't going to back down. He put that all in his look. He could see her glitter, her self-assurance that he'd be putty in her hands suddenly break slightly. Her mouth turned into a thin line.

  He didn't hide his amusement at his win. She was going from temptress to bitch quickly. Just because she wasn't going to get her way.

  “And Captain Logan ….”

  “Isn't in this seat. I am. I am in charge.” He suddenly had a bit of grudging respect for the captain. To have to put up with this? John was right; it well and truly was a snake pit.

  Mister Sanchez blinked at him and then pursed his lips with a sour expression. “I see.”

  “If there is nothing else, my yeoman will show you out. Good day, ladies, gentlemen,” Phil said with a curt nod of dismissal. He waited until they filed out and the yeoman shut the door softly behind them.

  “Sir, are you sure about creating enemies like that?” Saul asked, turning back to the admiral. The admiral shot him a look of disapproval. “They are leading men and women in the business and industrial community, sir.”

  The admiral frowned. That explained how they'd gotten through to him, Saul had let them in. He knew the game; the chief of staff had been playing the long game, building up contacts in the business and industrial complex to use later. Many officers did that, especially those involved in R&D and procurement. Procurement was rife with corruption or had been back in the day. The whole game of wining and dining officers with promises of lucrative jobs once they retired in return for military contracts was an old ancient game he knew all too well. He'd seen enough of that crap in the capital. He wasn't certain if he liked a recurrence or not.

  “I am of two minds about that.” He cocked his head and then shrugged. “Okay, more than two reasons,” he said holding up his hand. He ticked them off, one point per finger. “One, they will do their best to take advantage of us. I've seen the type and recognize it. Two, they will never pay us back. Three,” he frowned then shook his head. “Three, we're in this to build warships and to defend the Federation—not to help them get rich. Four, if we did help them, they'd be out there running around this sector and possibly neighboring ones getting into trouble. Can you imagine that liner filled with passengers running into a pirate?”

  “They'd need an escort,” the commander said slowly. He winced.

  “Exactly,” the admiral drawled, “which we can't afford to do. Or we'd have to arm them, which I refuse to do. No, they can sink or swim on their own. When we have the time and if they put up the credits maybe, maybe, we'd help them, if we had the yard space. I doubt it. For now they are on their own.”

  “I see, sir. I agree,” the commander said with a nod.

  “Next time don't bring someone like that in to me.”

  “Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

  “Don't be sorry; just don't waste my time.”

  Again the commander winced. The admiral turned away to look out the window. It was a magnificent view of the shipyard. The dance of small craft were like fireflies in the night sky. He crossed his hands behind him and clenched his fists.

  Saul felt a thrill of fear. He'd tried to help out; he'd thought by scratching the business people's back he'd gain a favor for himself and the admiral in the future. But now he realized his true loyalties were with the navy.

  “I have a lot more respect for Horatio now,” the admiral murmured after a long moment. The commander caught a hint of the admiral's reflection in the window. “I've been reading the notes and reports he had written. He's put up with a lot in this system. John was right; this place is a cesspit,” he murmured.

  Which was true but not nearly as bad as he'd feared. He'd seen worse. It was not as bad as some star systems he had been forced to work in but bad enough. “I think I owe the man an apology. And I think I need to pick his brain again about the players involved.”

  “Do you want me to arrange a meeting, sir?”

  The admiral turned and waved such considerations away. “For the moment it will keep. Any word on TF22?”

  “No, sir.”

  Admiral Subert pulled out his chair and took his seat once more. He checked his implant clock and accessed the timetable. “They should be getting to Protodon anytime now,” the admiral murmured.

  ---<>---<>---

  When Doctor Thornby's freighter arrived in Agnosta, the Admiral ordered her to return to Pyrax. She immediately appealed to Admiral Irons and Colonel Forth.

  “Your transfer is legal. He didn't sign off on it, but that's his problem. He made it clear that anyone who wanted out could quit and be transferred or could resign their commission,” Colonel Forth told her.

  “So, what do I do?”

  “The next convoy to Antigua isn't due for another month. I'll handle it,” he said. He put in a reply to the Admiral when he ordered the doctor to be forcibly returned to Pyrax.

  “He did?” Nara asked, aghast. “Is he seriously considering court-martialing me?”

  “You notice this is from him, not JAG,” the colonel pointed out. He picked up the tablet on his desk. “This is my reply to him.”

  “Admiral, I have taken Commander Thornby on as a temporary professor and medical observer to the base here. She is busy overhauling my facilities here. I am going to do due diligence with my command, my personnel, and my facilities. I suggest you do the same. I am the commander in this star system. Your authority ends in Pyrax. Best regards, Lieutenant Colonel Forth.”

  “Let's see how he takes that,” the colonel murmured as he set the tablet down.

  “Jersey ….”

  “It's already done, Nara. I transmitted that through the ansible this morning. It is out of your hands now. If the man wants to fight …,” he smiled a shark-like smile. “If I know anything, I know a marine loves a good fight.”

  “I guess so. But don't put your ass in a sling over this.” She shook her head slowly. “It's not worth it, Jersey, I'll resign before it gets to that point.”

  “I didn't care for the guy anyway,” Jersey said, waving a hand. “Now come on. You've got to get to work on the hospital and facilities here and in orbit.” He caught her expression and snorted. “What, you thought I was kidding? I'm not going to have you sit around and mope!” She smiled her thanks and bobbed a nod. “You've got a month before the next regular convoy is scheduled to come in. I expect good things.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied with a smile as she dashed a tear. She'd almost wished to return to Pyrax. She already felt horribly guilty about running out on everyone. But being kept busy may cure that she thought wryly. He certainly wanted to get his credit's worth out of her visit!

  “And when you've done all that, I want you to go over the sample team's work for your project Resurrection,” the colonel mused. “Project Destiny has stalled. I know the admiral ordered us to leave the orca and whales alone, but I thought if we preserved some of the carcasses that wash up on shore you or other scientists would have fresh, or well, decaying flesh to use to clone them.”

  She blinked in surprise. “Are you serious?”

  He turned to her. “What?”

>   “You have orca here?” she asked, voice rising in excitement. “And whales?”

  “You didn't know?” he asked. She shook her head. He frowned but then swore as his implants pinged. “Great, now I've done it. I think I just screwed the pooch. The admiral didn't tell me it was classified. At least I don't remember it,” he said, rubbing his brow in frustration.

  “Oh, Jersey,” Nara said in concern, eyes soulful as she considered the trouble he'd just walked into.

  He waved a dismissive hand. “I'll deal with it. But I'd like you to take charge of the samples we've gathered. The bodies are frozen; they aren't going anywhere. But with what you've got on file for the various cetacean species plus some DNA from living survivors, it should help you jumpstart that project.” He frowned again then set his jaw.

  She got a ping on her implants, a warning they were straying into classified territory. “Enough, Colonel,” she murmured. “We'll get it done,” she said. He nodded curtly and then had an Ensign assigned to her.

  ---<>---<>---

  Admiral Subert fumed over the colonel's reply. He was ready to draw up papers for insubordination when Saul handed him a tablet. “What now?”

  “It's an order from Fleet Admiral Irons.”

  “Oh? What now?”

  “All transfers from Pyrax have been approved, including and especially Doctor Thornby.”

  The admiral scrolled through the document and then grunted. He handed the tablet back without a word and walked off. So much for that he thought.

  Chapter 10

  Captain Shantell Mueller, captain of the Derfflinger class battle cruiser Nevada, was quite pleased with her command. Oh, it could be better. She was playing second fiddle to Captain Post on the Massachusetts, but Arnold was a good captain, a good officer. He'd led their division to victory twice in the last emperor's exercises, which was why they were on their present assignment.