by Chris Hechtl
The various planetary governments were starting to speak publicly about the various missions of which hers was the current topic. Airea 3 was behind promoting the mission she found out. Their government had completed a study and was all for the plan since they could get a base plus trading partners in Tau, while also reducing the pirate threat to their star system. Open trade with Tau would mean their planet would become a strategic shipping node. She could understand why they were so eager.
But Shelby found out some other star systems did not want the mission to go off; most of those were seeing it as a drain. Some wanted the money for their own missions; for instance, Syntia's World was lobbying hard to make Pi the priority. Senka wanted its own shipyard and naval base and wanted to get into Sigma sector. ET wanted the money spent rebuilding their homeworld. She had personal experience there and knew those requests were bullshit. The requests from Protodon though … they'd been pounded repeatedly since they were on the front lines. That was questionable.
One way or another she would have to deal with it, either directly or indirectly. Hopefully, she wouldn't have to do anything direct; getting involved with politics was like swimming with sharks she knew. She had enough of her own sharks in uniform wanting a bite out of her hide as it was.
She'd picked up from Lieutenant Strongbirth that TF3.2 was still a paper study, but that didn't stop the commodore from wanting the command … and for her to lobby hard to go on offense to take pressure off Protodon. She was also buddies with Commander Ch'n'x, the female Veraxin Lemnos sleeper who currently occupied the G-1 Ops post. She supported the Eastern Front over Tau sector.
“The Tau sector mission is mandated by our president. We will do it. It is just a matter of when and what priorities come first,” Saul said, interjecting himself into their latest discussion as Shelby presented her revised plan.
“Okay, I get that,” Shelby said with a nod. “I wanted to make certain we're on the same page here.”
“And we will be. These modifications require study and approval first,” the chief of staff warned. “Don't expect immediate answers, Captain.”
“I see. I understand that it will take time. I've sent a copy to Admiral Irons as well,” Shelby said politely. That made Commander Garretaj stop and stare at her. “He authored the original mission; it seemed prudent to run everything through him first,” she said, spreading her hands in supplication.
Shelby sat back and took a sip of her coffee as the commander recovered and then changed the subject. She'd noted that there was going to be foot dragging involved, that was why she was being proactive and not passive about the situation. That Admiral Subert would turn a blind eye to the shifting priorities wasn't a surprise. She knew she'd taken a chance by going around him. It was not acceptable practice, but he was not the author or planner of the mission.
“I'll want to see these revisions to the plan plus your notes, Captain,” the admiral said suddenly, stepping into the discussion. “That way I'm up to speed when Admiral Irons invariably brings it up,” he said, smiling.
“They aren't revisions as much a clearer definition of the goals based on what my staff and I know along with what has been mentioned in meetings such as this one,” Shelby said, waving a hand to indicate the proceedings. “Ensign Prometheus helped us with some of the boiler plate. He pulled up some templates for us to use as guides, plus we picked up a few tricks from you, sir. Obviously, we need ONI's latest briefs and a clear definition on some of the vague parameters before we can come up with a final TOE,” she said.
“Based on what you have so far … it's a lot to take on,” Commander Ch'n'x complained. “You are asking for a lot of hulls. Hulls we need for other duties.”
“Prometheus can't be everywhere in the sector,” Shelby said simply. “We were also informed we are getting some ships and materials from Antigua to supplement what is being drawn from here. That will cut down on some of the pressure to supply everything from Pyrax,” she said with a nod to the heads of BuShips as well as the Admiral. “One of those is a hospital ship I've been informed. Well, that hospital ship will require escorts, which is why we have it on page four, paragraph nine in the outline,” she stated.
“I see we do need to go over this thoroughly. Among everything else we have to review,” the Veraxin commander complained.
“Deal with it,” Admiral Subert said with a nod to Shelby. “Your point about an escort for the hospital ship is valid, especially since Tau is a pirate haven. Good job. Moving on …”
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Commander Ch'n'x didn't like the way things were moving, and being caught out by Captain Logan made her more than a little annoyed by the other officer's attention to duty. She had her own priorities so she arranged a private meeting between herself and Commander V'x'n'll. “I'm calling in a favor,” Commander Ch'n'x said.
“I like that you are to the point considering I have a busy schedule and this was unexpected,” the other female Veraxin stated. “What can I do for you then?”
“It seems we've got a lot of ships in berths and skeleton crews with too much time on their hands. I'd like to kill two birds with one stone as the humans like to say.”
“Oh?” the other Veraxin asked, sitting back expectantly in her saddle. “What I'd like to do should help you a bit. I'd like to open those ships up to temporary hands to allow them to accrue some hands-on training with actual ships and shipboard assignments. They can help stand watches and become familiarized with the layout and duties on the ship while also picking up some of the skills from the skeleton watch. That will also give the skeleton watch some coverage so they can work on their own training as well as the ship's repairs or leave time, what have you,” she said as she passed over a chip.
“I see. Did you run this past BUPERS yet?” Commander V'x'n'll asked.
“That is part of the favor, I'd like you to consider it and pitch it yourself since you two are so in synch.”
“I see,” the G-3 said, indicating second-degree polite disbelief. “Okay, well, I will certainly look into this. It is actually a good idea; those ships are shorthanded. I know Lieutenant Strongbirth has been hitting the ships laid up rather heavily to keep the new hulls up on their manning tables. Rotating some personnel in from the schools might help her.”
“Okay.”
“I'll look into it. No promises on implementing it or a timetable.”
“I was actually hoping you'd do it soon,” Commander Ch'n'x stated.
“Ah. Well, I'll have to run it by her as I said. But I think it won't be too much of a burden,” the other Veraxin stated as she placed the chip in her desk's reader. The proposal came up, helpfully translated into Veraxin. A list of ships was with it. Prometheus was at the top of the list.
“I understand the crew of Prometheus are not happy about all the poaching, especially since they have a mission to Tau coming up. I'll definitely put this forward to the lieutenant shortly. I have a meeting with her in two hours.”
“Perfect,” the G-1 said, signaling first-degree acceptance and approval. “Thank you.”
“If this works out, we're square,” the G-3 said, swiveling one of her rear eyestalks to the other Veraxin. “Understood.”
“Square,” the other Veraxin said as she rose from her saddle. “Lunch tomorrow?”
“I think I can swing it,” the G-3 said, making a note in her schedule. “I'll see you then,” she said.
“See you then,” the G-1 replied quietly as she scuttled out. She waited until she was through the outer staff cubicle farms and into the lift before she allowed herself to gloat. If her plan worked half as well as she expected, it would tie up Prometheus and distract Captain Logan for some time.
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On Monday Cynthia found some of the new personnel who came on board were transients. Commander V'x'n'll, head of G-3 schools, had ordered it with the approval of BUPERS over the weekend. She wasn't happy; she wanted permanent hands, not kids fresh from the schools and ac
ademy and in-between assignments.
“They are legitimate, Commander,” Ensign Prometheus stated as he showed her their orders. “They are on board to learn some of the ship's systems, stand a watch, and get some seasoning cheaply without having to actually set sail.”
“I know that. In a way, it makes sense. I'm just not thrilled about not having people actually here permanently,” Cynthia grumbled as she stepped out of the way of a Satyre walking down the corridor. “Make a hole, Mister!” she barked.
“Ma'am, um …,” the Satyre moved to the side and braced to attention as she passed.
“Lessons in movement etiquette—the junior always gives way to the senior—are clearly in order, among other things,” the A.I. stated.
“It's all new. They've been in a classroom; their heads are filled with crap. Now they need the practical,” Cynthia grumbled as other personnel gave way for her. “How old are they, five?”
“Some are fairly young. We are also scheduled to have a camp out here over the weekend.”
“Joy. Please make sure I'm not around for that. And make sure they don't inadvertently hit something and blow the ship up,” the XO drawled as she made her way to her office.
“Well, the good news is, with the extra hands we can do something about the refit schedule. Lieutenant Kettle has already put a few of them to work. He's also making notes about who he'd like to ship with, the fast learners and the slow learners later,” the A.I. offered.
“Well, that is some good news. As long as the greenhorns don't muck …,” Cynthia winced as she heard metal clatter as something was dropped. “ …Up something important,” she ground out in a different tone of voice than she'd started the sentence with.
“I believe the situation is temporary; we have them for two days before they move on to the other ships. It's all exciting and new though,” the A.I. said soothingly. “Even you remember your first deployment,” he said.
“True,” the XO said as she glared at a greenhorn to get out of her way. “Which is why I won't eat any of them a new asshole if they keep. Getting. Out. Of. My. Way. Fast.” she growled, stepping around the young Veraxin.
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Shelby shook her head as she got word of the new hands. New temporary hands, but they were on board her ship so they were hers for the time being. The brass might consider her ship as a convenient classroom to help put the initial polish on the new graduate's skills before they are formally assigned a berth, but she realized right off she wanted to put them to use.
Which was why, after some thought she put a few of them to work in the scraping and painting parties going on around the ship. The robotic janitors could only handle so much; there were places they couldn't get to, which meant it was a team effort. A few of the middies she let stand watch on her bridge or at different posts on her ship under Ensign Prometheus's watchful eye. She even had lunch with a couple of them and then had some tactical sim or other exercises run past them before the end of the shift.
The following morning she heard Cynthia was working with Oz to get a few of the ship's replicators up and running to make some of their own repairs. They had advanced the list by several days in just one shift she noted with approval, though the teardown and rebuild of the waste recycling system was still far down the list. She made a mental note to be off ship when that was going on. She wasn't certain her sense of smell had fully recovered from the last time she'd been around such a project, and she wasn't in the mood to test it.
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Shelby was a bit surprised when her request to have Firefly assigned as one of her warships for the mission was denied. A few minutes after she got the email, she received a call from a familiar face. She tapped out an authorization and in less than a second Captain Firefly appeared on her desk holo projector. “I didn't know you'd answer me directly, Captain. It's been a while. Good to see you.”
“You too, Captain. I must say, the rank looks good on you,” Firefly stated.
Shelby preened a bit. “So, you heard about my request obviously?”
“Straight to business. Good, I have a Turing program for small talk loaded, but I prefer to get down to business as well. I appreciate the request, but I'm apparently needed here,” Captain Firefly said with a shake of his virtual head.
“Sorry, sir. I tried,” Shelby said, raising a hand in supplication.
“It would have confused the command chain unnecessarily, Captain,” Firefly said with a shrug.
Shelby grimaced. It wasn't quite true. He was a captain senior grade while she was a junior grade, but she nodded slowly anyway. “I see, sir. I think we could get along. We have before,” Shelby said.
“I know we have. I'm honestly not sure if I belong in my ship body anymore. I've spent a lot of time out of it as of late. I'll have to consider it carefully if such an opportunity arises in the future,” Firefly mused.
Shelby's eyes widened. “I didn't know that, sir,” she said.
“I might be, as your father likes to say, getting too big for my britches,” Firefly said. Shelby snorted. “Spending time in other hardware can do that. I've got a lot more processing power than on ship. It's a bit addictive,” Firefly admitted.
“So coming down-to-earth with us mere mortals might be a tough challenge,” Shelby said with a nod. “I see, sir.”
“I'll cross that bridge when I come to it I suppose,” the A.I. said. “The ironic thing is that Captain Mayweather and I were conspiring to get you into the hot seat here less than a year ago,” he said. Shelby's eyes went wide. “Obviously, that didn't happen. We heard about your planned mission and gave it up as a lost cause.”
“I see. Well, thank you for thinking of me, sir,” Shelby said.
“No problem. I do agree, having my ship sitting idle is not conducive to the war effort. It is a Resolution class after all. What to do about it is a big question,” Firefly mused.
“I hope the brass comes up with something and doesn't just sit on it,” Shelby said.
“I'll shoot a missive off. They can at least make good on the damage in-between other projects. Perhaps even upgrade the ship to Mark II status?” Firefly said.
“That would be the smart thing. That way if she is needed in a hurry she can be called upon to serve,” Shelby said. “With or without either of us.”
“Agreed.”
Chapter 5
The following day Shelby received an email with word of a shipment of ansibles for her and the Eastern Front. There were several Dora class ships coming from Antigua at their best speed. That was good news for her, though she knew they'd take a while getting to her.
She was less sanguine about the other email that informed her that she was getting a team from the secretary of state's office to go with her. They would act as an interface with the planetary populations.
That was all fine and dandy in some ways, but it shortcut her. There was some ambiguity about the chain of command. Also, she would have to provide security for them on the ground, and she was a tad light on Marines. She bit her lip, then sat down and started firing off emails as she outlined her thoughts and defined the problems from her perspective.
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Since the skipper was tied up in one meeting after another and they still didn't have a replacement chief engineer for Cynthia, she oversaw the refit of Prometheus. Most of what needed to be done were yard job projects that would have the ship opened up and laid up for weeks. That was okay. They weren't going anywhere anytime soon, but she had to admit privately that it distressed her a bit to see the ship helpless and torn up even if it wasn't her fault.
“I gotta admit, we're not finding much wrong. You keep on everything. The log is good, damn good,” Captain JG I'rll said as the Veraxin looked through the inspection window.
Cynthia sniffed as she eyed the bug. The Veraxin had been handpicked by Horatio to take over the yard. She was good, damn good. She should know; she'd served under I'rll twice while she'd done stints in the y
ard. “Of course. We're a factory ship; we take care of ourselves.”
“Oh, yeah, right,” the bug said absently.
“But some things we can't do while underway of course. And some things are best left to a dock,” Cynthia admitted with a nod to the captain. “You yard dogs can do a good job when you try, ma'am.”
“Gee, thanks,” Captain I'rll drawled dryly.
“You're welcome, Ma'am,” Cynthia replied with a cheery smile.
“We aim to please. And if it means getting you out of my nonexistent hair sooner …,” the captain said, “I'm all for that.”
“That's the spirit,” Cynthia replied as her smile became a grin.
“Don't mention it,” the bug drawled. “Well, we'll start buttoning her up on the next shift if everything holds true. Ensign Prometheus is doing well with the electronics swap I understand.”
What the captain meant was that the A.I. had managed to transfer smoothly to the new electronic hardware. He now had a larger domain with slightly faster processors. He had also undergone a series of patches and minor upgrades. He wasn't a full smart A.I., but he was on his way to evolve into one Cynthia knew.
“Good to know,” Cynthia replied with a nod as she saw the reflection of the ship's dorsal port engine pod. The shuttle was turning, no doubt to do a 180 around the ship as planned before they returned to the docking port.
She knew like Captain I'rll that they could do the same job in virtual or tapped into a drone's sensors. But it wasn't the same, she thought. Sometimes you had to see it with your own eyes; sometimes seeing it meant getting up close and seeing the details not just the big picture. Sometimes it meant a bit of hands-on.