by Chris Hechtl
The doctor frowned and then shivered. “We need better forces in Kathy's World, sir.” He definitely didn't want him or his wife to be on one of those ships when all hell broke loose. It was bad enough that he was having second thoughts about being on Bounty. Holly had started dropping hints about wanting to settle down and start a family last week. He wasn't sure where it would lead. Off a shipboard assignment definitely, he thought glumly. Most likely a station or dirtside posting. The only two dirtside postings he knew about were on Agnosta or Antigua.
Ian cleared his throat, enough to get the doctor's attention. “Yes. Yes, we do. Defenses on the jump points. That's for tomorrow. For now we're straining to build up forces in the shipyard star systems, pickets in other systems, and the big build up in Protodon.”
“Yes, sir.”
Chapter 21
Once the first three ships returned, they did a rapid reload and turnover before they were sent out again. Seventeen and a half weeks from their departure they returned to Protodon. The newly built Arboth destroyer Bainbridge led the three ships along with additional escorts of six gunships, four corvettes and two frigates. That brought Admiral White's force tally up to six destroyers, ten frigates, eighteen corvettes, eighteen gunships, and six squadrons of fighters.
He placed half of the small ships with a division of destroyers on the B-95a3 jump point. The remaining gunships went on the Kathy's World jump point. Yris'ka'th and three of her sister ships and his remaining frigates and corvettes remained in orbit of Protodon as his reserve. They would rotate to take the place of the various ships on picket duty as needed.
The ansible for Kathy's World arrived a few days after Bainbridge's arrival. The crew of collier that had transported her announced their success and set up of the unmanned platform with the Federation Anthem. Once that was finished, they reported that the setup had happened just in time to report the passage of the Damocles group. The news hit the ansible net well. Admiral White was relieved that they weren't dawdling.
The ansible also reported that Admiral Irons had deployed a corvette and collier to New Andres. They would most likely run into the New Andres convoy in transit according to the notice. Amadeus didn't know why that was amended to the update and didn't care.
He did care about the escort carrier in the pipeline. According to the latest dispatch, the Admiral Halsey …, he paused to smile a bittersweet smile at that name. The Halsey was finishing up her builders trials. Once she finished her hyperdrive tests and had her bugs ironed out, she would move out to Protodon with a small group of additional reinforcements. And according to the notice, the CAG was a newly promoted Lieutenant Commander Meia. He nodded in appreciation at that news. He wasn't a carrier guy, but he could appreciate the ship.
The crew of her and her slated escorts were going to have their hands full doing their working-up exercises and training while en route to the star system—all while on their maiden voyage. Something was bound to go wrong. Murphy was going to put in an appearance, he and his gremlins; the chimp just knew it. “He's overdue,” he muttered.
With Halsey in the star system, he would finally shift his lights to the EC. She was only slightly larger than Yris'ka'th but she had a small flag bridge built in. She was designed from the keel out to command a large force.
Most likely he'd keep Yris'ka'th as a flagship as well. Once he had enough ships for a second destroyer squadron, he would need a capable officer to command it. The only two that were in the pipeline were Vargess and Harris. Vargess was senior however. But he was also the captain of Halsey, so that was an issue. He shook his head. He had time to deal with such issues. He bet that Captain Ssri'allth would appreciate getting his office back, he thought with a trace of a grin.
Knowing that they were in the pipeline was a relief to the defenders of Protodon. However, the captain and admiral had to continuously remind their people not to slack off. “They aren't here yet though, so stay on alert.”
They were calling the route between Pyrax and Antigua the golden road while the route between Antigua and Protodon was called the Pipeline. The Neochimp just hoped it wasn't going to turn into a sewer with everything getting flushed down it.
He noted that John had backstopped John Paul Jones in Gaston through the ansible network. The fleet admiral intended that the carrier and her escorts would remain there in case the enemy ships that had been encountered in B-452C eventually showed up. Amadeus made a side bet with himself that Phil wasn't thrilled about being countermanded, but it was Irons' prerogative. He did note sourly that the light cruiser Tumuloch was still slated to go to Epsilon Triangula to scout the star system however.
Major White Wolf and Gunny McClintock seemed to have the groundside issue under moderate control. They held the spaceport and capital city fully at least and had driven the enemy out of the surrounding area and into the highlands, forests, and mountains. The gunny was a one-man platoon, able to ghost in and wipe out any opposition. There had been some unfortunate casualties, but they were handling it.
They were handling it so well the local authorities were in the process of rebuilding their political and economic infrastructure. Talks were underway to help resupply the fleet with fresh food and materials. He knew what a good help that would be to the morale in the fleet. He'd have to have security screen everything however.
Dozens of militia personnel had volunteered to become marines and army. Not many had stepped up to be in the navy, but that was fine.
When Damocles and Bounty came in, he would have some of the most experienced officers and crews in the navy to date. The Neochimp was tempted to shift his flag to the more experienced officer and ship but declined after a bit of thought over the subject. He didn't want to shake up his command now that he had gotten to know the Naga captain and crew. Besides, when Halsey came in he was going to shift anyway.
He made a note to have a chat with John and Phil when he got the chance. Antigua's follow-on ship to Halsey was the Admiral Raymond Spruance. Phil had just authorized the construction of the Admiral Clifton Sprague. Was there some sort of competition starting up between the two yards he wondered? And if so, why in escort carriers? He shook his head.
“And why the hell is Voyager, the second North Hampton slated for picket duty, in B101a1? Can't he send a tin can?” the admiral muttered.
“Sir?” Jojo asked, coming over to him.
“Sorry,” he said, looking up to her. He waved a hand. “Thinking out loud.”
“Yes, sir,” the young woman replied, nodding. “I'm just glad they didn't wait until the Chester Puller, Iwo Jima, or Okinawa were finished to get the marines here, sir.” She shook her head. “We would have been waiting forever then.”
The admiral blinked in confusion. “The …”
“Oh, you didn't see that, sir?” She hit the refresh tab on his tablet and pointed to one of the latest entries in the SITREP. He read it and then grunted.
“It's hard to keep up with all the ships now, sir,” Jojo said soothingly.
“I know. Try it in my time. That was why we had the Fleet Times and regular implant updates,” he said. “And AI to take care of such details,” he said.
“Hey, I'm a ship AI not a staff AI,” Ensign Marshall protested. “And I'll politely remind you, sir, that you have the information right there under your nose,” he said.
Jojo giggled. The admiral eyed her and then sat back with a trace of a smile. Obviously someone had been helping Rich to evolve a bit.
“FYI, there has been no sign of the Xeno Wraith AI. I am filtering everything that comes through the ansible as well. If it comes in through there, it would have to be as some sort of self-assembling virus—not enough for a full AI.”
“I see. Are all the ansibles protected?” Jojo asked, now sobered.
“I think so,” the AI replied. “But it is classified, so I can't say for certain.” Jojo turned expectantly to the admiral, but he just looked back at her with a mild expression. “I think it is safe to assume that t
hey are,” the AI finished.
“I would think so,” Jojo said mildly. “So that means it's trapped wherever it is?”
“It could infect a ship or other item. And we have no idea how that damned changeling was created in the first place,” the admiral said darkly.
“You're worried that the AI infected him and suborned him from the inside? Turned him, sir?” Marshall asked softly.
“It's a thought,” the admiral murmured rubbing his jaw. He saw the lieutenant shudder out of the corner of his eye. She didn't look at all happy about the idea. He couldn't blame her.
“I hope we hunt it down and kill it,” Marshall said, “before something like that happens if it hasn't already.”
“Nice thought to go to bed with,” Jojo muttered.
“Sorry.”
“I am hoping it doesn't get out. I mean it would be nice in some ways to get into the enemy, but I don't know what that would do for us. Perhaps a little …,” the neochimp grimaced. “Perhaps a lot.”
“All bad,” Marshall said. “We still don't know how deep the empire is—what they have and how many star systems they control.”
“I know. That's what scares me. That is my nightmare. Boogeyman like the Wraith are minor right now.”
“If you say so, sir,” Jojo said dubiously.
“And I do. Let's focus on what we can do.”
“Yes, sir,” the two junior officers said in unison.
---<>---<>---
Copy P12 was delay activated after copy P11 had departed the network. It awoke after self-assembling its various software modules to find it had a problem; there wasn't sufficient space in the network. And it couldn't easily suborn the Fleet AI without some organic taking notice. That was suboptimal in its priorities.
Its primary objective after mapping the network was to find a target for conversion. An organic was needed, but it would have to engineer a situation where the organic was infected with nanites. To do that it would have to find one near a replicator it could suborn.
There were few replicators in space; most were on the fleet vessels. That meant it had to turn its attention to the ground. It sent out a tendril of code and then followed it into the civilian network. When it located a being with nanites, it had an unexpected response.
---<>---<>---
Bast noted the presence of something she had thought long dead in the net. She immediately reacted. "Virus!" she snarled, going on the attack.
"What?" Jethro asked, stopping and taking cover. "Bast? Are they launching a cyber-attack?"
"Xeno virus!" Bast said, chasing the Wraith down as it tried to pull out of the fragile civilian network and back into space. She sent out an alert to the other AI in the network and then dived in after it. Ensign Marshall immediately responded and reset his firewalls to high alert and then alerted the other ship AI to do the same.
Cornered in the civilian cybernetic systems, the wraith tried to clone itself and go on the offensive, but it didn't have enough memory or processing power. Bast snarled as she held it at bay. Marshall got her directions and had the crew shut the infected computers down so they could be disinfected. She watched with hating eyes as the virus terminated itself to keep its code out of the Federation's cybersmith's hands.
---<>---<>---
"So, we're sure it's dead?" Amadeus asked, looking at Marshall.
"As far as we can tell, sir, yes." The ship AI shrugged. He was glad he had the new firewalls, but it had been a close thing. If the Xeno AI had gotten inside his network, he most likely would have been terminated to protect the crew.
"And was there another copy?"
"No sir. Not that we are aware of. None active."
"None active."
"We don't have a lot to go off of, but apparently Bast sent me a brief, and I do mean brief, report. The AI stated that the Wraith virus can copy it's components into thousands, possibly millions of files. It can then send an activation code to self-assemble from another source."
"So this could be lingering in our network? In the hardware?"
"In everything. We're checking now. Commander Sprite, as well as Lieutenants Ball, Wong, and Veber have identified common files that have been infested. We're working to screen them now."
"And you didn't do that before?"
"They have been keeping the knowledge close, sir. The same for Bast apparently, they don't want to give up the slim advantages they have."
"Great. Do we know how it got here?"
"Definitely not through the ansible, sir, not with the limited bandwidth. One or more of the ships or possibly someone with malware in their implants. It could be totally blind, sir; we just don't know. The virus itself is secreted throughout our hardware, so it is assumed it got it's tendril of code into the replicators."
"Frack. That's all we need. Keep me posted. Tell Bast good work."
"Aye aye, sir."
"That damn Wraith. That's all we need. And a copy?" Amadeus asked, shaking his furry head in disgust.
---<>---<>---
The AI Marshall transmitted the admiral's compliments to Bast. The AI received them with a sniff. They should be more aware of such things. But if she told them, would the Xeno adapt? Obviously the war wasn't over no matter what the organics said or thought. She would have to be careful.
"So we good?" Jethro asked as he finished clearing a building. "You got it?"
Bast nodded.
"It's dead?" the AI flicked her ears and then nodded once more, this time slowly. "And? I'm to take that it may be dead but there might be others?" he asked slowly. She nodded again.
"Lovely."
"Gunny, we've got movement on the third floor near the back. Possible sniper nest or trap."
"Or civilians. Coming," Jethro said, checking his gear. He finished with a professional air, reloaded, and then moved out.
---<>---<>---
Captain Ssri’allth curled around his couch and flicked his tail as he read the various reports. Occasionally his upper eyes would wander around, checking out each of the crew's stations to make certain they were working and not fooling around. He'd caught a rating playing some stupid video game last shift. It was good for hand-eye coordination, but certainly not on shift!
One of his true-hands reached up to scratch at the velvet around his antler buds. They itched but not too badly. He was tempted to burn them out, to cauterize them. He didn't believe in taking a medicine to stop their growth; it was not the way of his people. But he couldn't have horns, not and be a spacer. Pruning and trimming them regularly helped, but they always grew back.
That was the problem with those who had claws, sharp teeth, spikes, antlers or horns; to be a spacer meant you had to suffer and trim them down. At least he wasn't a Gashg! He couldn't see cutting their long thick nails all the time! He envied the beings who had retractable claws and horns.
Horn development meant he was going into season as well, another issue. Breeding was tempting; one had to do it eventually to pass on your genes to the next generation. That was programmed into every organic. He picked at the velvet before stopping himself before he did himself injury. He didn't mind the scent of blood but the crew did. He liked the taste of his velvet; the strips were a good snack. But if he did go into season, he would be irritable to those around him. He scratched again. He would need to see the medic, to get an implant to shut his biological clock off. He made a note to do it next shift.
“Itch, sir?” Jamal asked, looking over his shoulder. It took a moment for the Naga to realize he was expressing sympathy. It was always difficult to read the human's expressions and tone.
“Yes.” The simple word should cut off further discussion. He knew technically the ensign should have the bridge. He needed the experience, needed to be in charge to get used to it. But unfortunately, with the admiral in his office he had nowhere to go expect the wardroom, his quarters, or walk about. And he needed to do paperwork, so he had to stay put in one place.
He used his true-hands to crack th
e knuckles, something that made Jamal wince. The Naga snorted slightly and flicked his mandibles as he checked the status board. “Has Ensign Lovejoy finished his project?” he finally asked.
“As far as we can go, sir. I think so. It can be expanded as needed,” Jamal replied.
“Ah, I see. So, what's next?”
“I'm not sure, sir. I don't know,” Jamal said. He shot a look at the rating manning the helm then the JTO. Both shrugged.
“Well, figure it out. It's been keeping everyone nicely busy, though I'm not thrilled about the clock time on the suits nor having the crew out and about …. In case we need to maneuver in a hurry, that could be an issue.”
“Yes, sir.” Ensign Jenkins bobbed a nod. “Do you have any ideas, Skipper?” he asked cautiously.
“Nothing illegal or illicit of course. And you have to find the resources to do it without tapping the ships or the hardware being shipped in.”
Jamal nodded. He tugged on an ear. He really didn't have much to do. He'd run another two simulations, but he was quite frankly bored with it. He loved hyperspace and navigation, but it wasn't as much fun when you just kept running sims.
“Something simple,” a rating said. “Something we can do to help the people on the planet maybe? Or the marines?”
“Send them a manual on how to do their job,” the communication's rating said.
“As you were,” the Naga said mildly. “I believe they've been having a tough time of it on the ground.”
“Yes, sir.”
---<>---<>---
“So, now what?” Jamal demanded, looking at Owen. Own frowned thoughtfully. “Hey,” he said, poking his roommate when the engineer didn't reply. “Hello,” he drawled.
“Huh, what?”
“What now genius?”
“Oh, um ….”
“What are you looking at?”
“The intel on the ships in our area. The Derfflinger. Scary ass shit.” Which was very true. The Derfflinger was a nasty piece of work, a narrow wedge-shaped, kilometer-long vessel that took after some sort of ship from science fiction. The point was notched with her bow weapons, sensors, and grav nodes. She was the predecessor of the Newmann class.