by Chris Hechtl
The admiral had insisted Sprite drill them remorselessly on the precision astrogation. He wanted to make an immediate and impressive statement to the solar system. There was something to be said about making a good first impression. Well, in his case second. The AI had teased him about MacArthur, even going so far as to show him a transcript of his speech when he returned to the Philippines. He'd dryly told her he'd take it under advisement.
When they arrived they were immediately interrogated by the nervous escort frigate Hecate. The modified manta class escort frigate had been left on picket duty with two manta and two Horseshoe class frigates to keep her company along with a massive two kilometer diameter asteroid. “Admiral, the frigates are powered up but they lack a hyperdrive,” CIC reported.
“All of them?” the admiral asked.
“All of the old ones. Hecate's is reading as functional. According to Firefly's report all but two of the captured warships lack a functional hyperdrive. Most lack proper reactors and critical systems sir,” the chief reminded him. “Sir, we're getting lidar hits from all of the warships and the asteroid.”
“An orbital fort,” Irons murmured. He nodded in approval. They had been busy.
“Thank you, Chief Dylard,” Sprite stated. Irons nodded once more. As he watched the plot sparkled as more information came in through her sensors to be processed by her computers and crew. A minefield around the jump point was highlighted. It was thin, very thin, but it was indeed there. Irons nodded.
“We're being interrogated. Sending IFF now,” Lobsterman reported.
“Make certain you send the right one,” Sprite quipped. The admiral nodded. Getting the two mixed up would be one hell of a mess and leave them in a pickle.
“Admiral, we're being hailed by Hecate,” Lobsterman reported a moment later.
“Shall I take it?” Captain Samuel asked, looking at him through the camera. Irons shook his head.
“No. I'll take it,” he said. He settled himself and then stood, hands behind his back. “I'm ready,” he said, sending a signal to record.
“You are on,” Sprite said on his HUD.
“This is Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons on the flag bridge of the battlecruiser Maine. I believe you've been expecting us?” he asked as he smiled slightly. “It's good to be back,” he finally said. “Oh,” he turned and waved a hand expansively. Just as they'd rehearsed Sprite placed a holo of the fleet where his hand had been. “I also brought some friends,” he said.
When Admiral Irons responded personally to the hail the corvette's captain was ecstatic and relieved. “It's good to see you, Admiral: Captain Ssri'allth said over the link. The admiral smiled. He was grateful to see First Lieutenant Ssri'allth as Hecate's captain. The Naga was one of the few stasis survivors from White Star, a derelict and booby trapped ship that had been left behind in Pyrax. He and the crew of Firefly had rescued them a few months after the battle at the Agnosta jump point. It seemed the Naga was settling in nicely.
“I think I'm glad I didn't pull an unexpected drill on you,” the admiral said, nodding to the plot and friendly icons. “It looks like you have been busy,” he said.
Their arrival was the biggest friendly arrival in Antigua memory, even beyond the recent convoys. Hecate and the other picket ships had been justifiably nervous at first over their arrival despite the advanced warning Sprite judged. Besides, everyone could use a little extra training time as she observed the fleet net integrate the new ships. Their status spread sheets came up for her viewing. She scanned them while listening to the conversation.
“True, very true, sir,” the Naga replied, swishing his tail. There was a slight chatter of background conversation behind him, most of it excited about the arrival of the fleet. “We were quite nervous when you appeared so suddenly. We had expected Xavier but ...” His four eyes moved about then he shook his head. “Ah. I see they are with you!”
“Yes. Long story short, they were chased by pirates into the Triang system,” the admiral said. He nodded when the Naga froze. The chatter ended abruptly. “Yes,” the admiral said quietly. “They managed to destroy one of the enemy's corvettes but were getting chased all over the star system when we showed up,” he said, smiling a tight lipped smile.
“And the pirates?”
“One got away,” the admiral admitted. The rest we blew into very small pieces,” he said.
The Naga's tail twitched as his crew broke out into cheers. They quieted after a moment. “That is very good to hear sir. The planet?”
“I'll send you the full report, Lieutenant,” Sprite interjected. “Triang is still there thanks to the heroic sacrifice of one of our pilots,” she said. The joyful mood grew a little somber. Irons nodded.
“That's right. But we're here now.”
“Admiral, I wish to welcome you to the Antigua system. I have a personal message from Governor Randall for you.”
“That was fast,” Sprite said dryly.
“You were expected. That news slipped out some time ago,” the Naga admitted. “Shall I transmit it?”
“Indeed do,” the admiral said with a tight nod. He cocked his head as the transmission came in. He nodded. “We have it, Captain, my thanks.”
“No sir, thank you. We are transmitting the course for your fleet to follow through the minefield as well as the IFF keys,” the Naga stated.
“Thank you Captain. Maine out.” Irons turned to Sprite's avatar. “Post jump chores Commander, Captain,” he said to the open link to Captain Samuel. The captain nodded. “Have nav shape a course for the planet. Execute when it is ready,” he ordered. “I'm going to take this in my quarters,” he said after a moment.
“Not your office?” Sprite asked carefully.
“I think I need to do some personal business first. And I may need a shower after,” he said, exiting the flag bridge.
“Jitters,” Sprite teased in his ear as he walked to the admiral's quarters. He ignored the jibe.
When he got to his quarters he pulled the sweater Sprite and his steward had insisted he wore and tossed it onto the bed. He hit the head, washed up and then came out. He paced for a moment then decided the best thing to do was to get it over with. “Play it,” he growled, taking a seat on the bed.
A window appeared on his HUD, then it filled his view as he rested his hands on his knees. The Governor stood there, paused for the moment. Irons inhaled and exhaled as the image began to play.
Governor Randall appeared older, there were a few more lines on his face, more crow's feet, definitely a bit of bags under his eyes. More salt in his hair, and he had an air of ... not quite finality, but resolution. Instinctively the admiral sat straighter.
“Admiral Irons, I'd like to formally apologize for my past behavior during the election. It was inexcusable. I should have listened to you. You were right,” the governor said, making the admiral blink in surprise. He hadn't expected the governor to eat crow that quickly. His previous messages had danced around the subject.
Governor Randall's eyes closed, and Irons realized it was in pain. “Lords of space I know you were right. I knew then too, but I played the game I was taught. I honestly didn't think I'd push you out. It wasn't my attention. I wanted to play the underdog, to illustrate the person in charge as bad in compare ... you know, now, it really doesn't matter does it?” he asked, opening his eyes and sucking in a breath. Irons nodded slightly.
“I want to formally ask you to remain in this system. We need you here. The ... the Federation needs you here sir.” He shook his head. “If Firefly hadn't arrived when she did we'd be slaves to Horath or worse,” he said, jaw working. “You were right. And you were right to leave. I know that now. Had you stayed I or one of my supporters would have tied your hands to keep from going back on my word. In other words, I screwed up. Big time. But now, with your help, maybe we can fix it. It's not too late.” He stared imploringly into the camera.
He seemed to swell, to gather himself. Irons noted the man had good stage presence. It was there, like a liv
ing thing. The feeling that you wanted to help the man, to walk in his shadow and make the universe a better place. He nodded. Apparently the governor's abilities had matured in his absence. “Admiral, I realize now, we need to work together. You were right, the barbarians are at our gates. They want everything we have. You were right to point out that the price of freedom is ever vigilance. We need to protect our people from those who would do them harm while returning the light of civilization to the masses who have dwelled in the darkness of poverty and apathy for far too long. We both have the same dream of a better tomorrow. Let's build it together,” the governor said in earnest. Irons nodded.
“I'll be waiting for your call, sir.” The transmission ended.
“Now I know why I liked that guy,” Sprite murmured.
“He definitely talks a good game. Let's see if he really is willing to deliver,” the admiral replied cautiously. He still wasn't sure and was feeling out the situation from moment to moment. He realized he had to shit or get off the pot soon though. He glanced at the door to the head and then snorted softly at his own thoughts.
“Do you have any reply in mind for him, sir?” Sprite asked.
“I've thought of several,” the admiral replied, rubbing his jaw.
“Recording when you are ready,” the AI said. “Unless of course you want me to debug a prepared script?” She asked.
He snorted. “You know I haven't written one. Otherwise you would have already read it and critiqued it.”
“True.”
“Okay, here goes,” he said as the light above the camera on his desk came alive. He turned to fully face it. “This is Admiral Irons to Governor Randall. I'd like to compliment you on your successful election win,” he said with a slight wry twist of his lips. “...and the hard work you and your people have done here in the system since I left.” His voice dropped a bit into a cool stern warning. “I agree, the barbarians are at the gates. We just fought off an attack on Convoy 3 with Xavier in the Triang system and encountered a pirate presence in two other star systems on the way here,” he said by way of warning. “According to our intelligence the Horathians know about Antigua, or soon will. I will discuss the ramifications with you once the fleet has entered orbit.” His lips twisted a bit. “I wish you and your family good health. Long live the Federation,” he said. He nodded to Sprite as the green light turned red.
“Nice. Neutral, short and sweet with a bit of news that should scare the bejeezers out of him. Or at least make him wake up and pay attention to what you have to say,” Sprite said in approval.
“Cute.” Irons shook his head. “Send it,” he said.
“Compressing the file. Do you mind if it goes out on an encrypted channel or Omni broadcast?” She asked.
“Considering we haven't given them our encryption key, send it as is. But if you can send it to the station as well as to the planet that might be wise.”
“In case he is currently on the station?” Sprite asked. He shrugged. “Very well. Done,” she said. “I thought you were going to leave a ship behind to picket the jump point?” She asked.
The admiral shook his head. One of his contingency plans had been to leave Tweedle Dee behind to protect the Triang jump point. “No,” he said. “I think they've got it covered enough as is.”
“I do wish we'd shipped parts out to those ships though,” Sprite said. “They could use them.”
“One thing at a time, Commander,” the admiral said as he picked up a tablet. “More paperwork?”
“But of course,” Sprite quipped. He shook his head in resignation and dug in.
...*...*...*...*...
He checked the plot once he was finished the latest round of paperwork Sprite had inflicted on him. When he did he grunted in not quite surprise. He'd known intellectually the ships were there, but he'd expected a lot of them to be in mothballs near the Yard. Five ships were indeed mothballed, their drives and power plants cool. But apparently the natives and fleet had other ideas about the rest of the ships. Even though they were a bit beat up they were still put into service. He nodded in approval.
CIC was still filling the plot as the fleet moved further into the star system. The more they saw the more impressed the admiral was. The star system was alive with life and renewed purpose. The Antiguan’s have been busy in his absence he noted as the CIC plotted a few more drive signatures and mass readings. A few of the IFF's sparkled.
The converted factory ship Ramona Remora was in the system between the two destroyers. According to their sensors flights of shuttles were moving between the three vessels as well as the orbital scrapyard.
One of the large freighters without a hyperdrive was supposed to be out with the miners. He picked its IFF out, along with a converted transport carrying people to and from the ship. The freighter was being used as a staging ground for the tugs and miners in the belt. He'd have to do something about that, there were other purposes for that ship. The same for the transport carrying people and goods to resupply it. As he watched a second pair, another freighter and transport were picked out on the other side of the solar system.
Two of the other converted troop transports were making runs between the station and orbit of the planet. The last one was apparently making a return flight from the asteroid fort near the B-450 jump point. Again, a grave misuse of their resources, but he understood why. According to their records all the troop transports in the system lacked a functional hyperdrive. In fact a majority of the starships in the system lacked a hyperdrive or sufficient power to get into hyper. Or even grav nodes to put up a proper shield he thought as his eyes fell on Cutlass and Viper. He shook his head. Well, the good news was that they'd uploaded a repair list to Firefly and an updated one to Horatio in Convoy 3a. Convoy 3b had been carrying some of the supplies they had needed and he had manufactured a lot more of them in Triang orbit while the fleet had been anchored there. Once he was settled in work crews could break them out and install them while he used the two factory ships to build the remaining parts they needed.
CIC reported not one but three separate gas giant refineries, with tugs running between them and the station like long trails of ants. More tugs were running trails to automated scooping vessels that were scooping planets and comets in the system for other volatiles.
Antigua Prime wasn't the only station in orbit of the planet anymore either. There were several, many of them simple cargo depots in direct orbit of the planet. Tugs moved cargo out to and from them. Then shuttles docked with the stations to move the cargo to and from orbit.
There were even stations in the belt, one good sized one he picked up on right away. Another asteroid base, it didn't flash a military IFF however. It was opposite the two tenders forming a triangle. The admiral nodded. That was the way to go he judged, replace the ships with a couple of asteroid stations.
As they approached the station, CIC noted the skeleton of the building shipyards. Not only had they rebuilt the original slips but they had expanded. The Admiral whistled appreciatively. His eyes gleamed in approval.
They didn't have his replicator key codes but they had managed to find ways to compensate. They had done what they could with what they had, building the basic structures, habitats, and powering them with solar panels. Several of the drydocks are light brightly as if to welcome them. He could work with them. The question was, were they willing to work with him?
...*...*...*...*...
“We missed something,” the admiral murmured, pulling on his ear.
“Now what?” Sprite asked.
“We missed something,” he said, looking at the plot. “Something ...” he frowned and focused in on Collier 9. That is it,” he said, stabbing a finger at the icon.
“What? The captured ship?”
“Exactly. What do we normally find on a captured ship, Commander?”
“Pirates? Their prize crew?”
“Exactly. But that was one of their ships, so no prize crew. No, the crew is it. No slaves,” he finally sa
id, snapping his fingers.
Sprite frowned thoughtfully. “You did mention it was one of their ships, Admiral.”
“Yes. Yes I know. But they captured Kiev 221 remember? They didn't want anyone off that ship?”
Sprite nodded in understanding. “I see where this is going. They didn't have a need for trained spacers. At least not on that ship.”
“Exactly.”
“We missed something else, Admiral,” the AI said. He raised an eyebrow in inquiry. “Thousands of people relocated from Kiev 221 to Antigua Prime,” she said softly. He stiffened. She nodded again, this time somberly. “Exactly.”
“We can't contact them individually,” he said. “And they deserve a heads-up. Send them an e-mail.”
“An e-mail?”
“It's the best we can do. News is going to break about our events soon enough. I'd rather they know in advance. I don't know where they are, but hopefully we can give them some comfort, or they'll find comfort in each other.”
“Understood,” Sprite said softly. A letter appeared beside her. Words began to flow. “We regret to inform you of the loss of Kiev 221. We do not at this time know if there are any survivors ...”
“Yeah,” the admiral sighed softly. Sometimes he hated his job.
...*...*...*...*...
When they were a day out from the planet and space station Lobsterman reported an incoming call from Antigua Prime. Irons dreaded taking the call until he heard a familiar warm voice. “It's good to see you, Admiral,” Taylor Warner said as the holo image stabilized. His normally serene wife Rasha was there with him, as was Doctor Megan Trask and Sheriff Derrango.
“Greetings, Admiral,” the Sheriff said. He looked off camera. “Whoops! I have to go, problem in the promenade. Nice seeing you!” He said and disappeared. Doctor Trask snorted.
“It's damn good to see you, Admiral. More than you could ever know,” Megan murmured, smiling politely. “We've been a mess since you left. And things were hairy when the pirates showed up.”
“I can imagine,” the admiral replied. He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “Sorry I wasn't here to help,” he said. He wasn't sure how to bring up John Henry's loss to his parents. They both seemed ... calm. At peace.