by Chris Hechtl
“For where? We don't have the Norfolk facility set up for marines, Admiral.”
“For now he can do a stint at the college. No more than a week as a guest lecturer. Have him inspect and overhaul the officer training there too. Then I want him to hit the dirt and overhaul the prison. I want a thorough inspection. Have him work with Lieutenant Lake on that,” he said.
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Then I want him to hop a fight to the islands and look into building a marine training facility on one of them. A full base too.”
“That should be interesting for him since he's only held shipboard assignments so far,” Sprite reminded him.
“Then he better do some research while he has the chance.”
“So he can talk with Ensign Raynor? Good idea. She has a lot of the blueprints on base design in her files,” Sprite said. “She can lend him a hand. So can the gunny since he had time down on Hidoshi's world. But the ensign will be a major asset. Pardon the pun.”
“I see,” the admiral murmured.
“She's uploaded a great deal of information, Admiral. Petabytes of information about the history of the military and Federation. I am still processing it, including the material on the Xeno war.”
“Okay,” the admiral said with a nod.
When he exited his quarters the admiral checked in with Lieutenant Turner then headed out to his first job of the morning, Carnegie. He spent the morning using his keys to oversee more hyperdrive component manufacturing, then loaded a queue for reactor parts before he hopped a launch to Antigua Prime for his afternoon meeting with Taylor Warner.
The admiral was amused to find a certain bemused marine officer waiting for him when the launch docked. “Sir, welcome aboard,” the major said, saluting him. The admiral returned the salute then shook hands with him.
“Already on board, Rory? Good to see you haven't lost your ability to fall out in a hurry,” the admiral said.
“I was getting bored on the battlecruiser. This though ...” he shrugged uncomfortably.
“The sad news is you can't fall back on your armor when the staff or students get on your nerves,” the admiral teased. The captain snorted in amusement.
Once he had debarked from the battlecruiser he reverted back to his captain's rank. The marine was amused by the status change. “I'm so used to being called Major,” he quipped.
“Don't get used to being a captain. I believe you'll make Major permanently once we start growing faster,” the admiral said.
“I'll keep that in mind, sir,” the captain said with a nod.
“Go check in with the sergeant and get your quarters and situation squared away. If you have free time I want you to look into the big picture with the marines in the system. Give me a list on who needs to be moved where and any holes that need to be filled in the compliments. If you have someone in mind for promotion or issues with others, let Sprite know.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Now I get to go talk with Lieutenant Warner and his cohorts while you go chase college coeds and chase marines out of college frat houses and bars,” he said.
Rory froze then slowly grinned. The admiral snorted. “Make sure you wear your uniform. They'll love it,” he said wickedly.
“Aye aye, sir,” Rory said, now really amused.
“Give Raynor a hand. She's new. She's got the theory but is short on practice. Make sure she's squared away too. I know she is reserves and navy, but we've always relied on marines to help in the deportment training,” the admiral said.
Captain Gustov nodded with a twinkle.
“Dismissed captain,” the admiral said with a wave. The captain came to attention sharply, then picked up his space bag and kit and headed out at a walk.
“Glad he's landed on his feet.”
“He's a marine. They usually do,” the admiral murmured. “Now, what room am I going to this time?”
“Replicator 8,” Sprite replied. “They need you to build a new reactor core for a client and the governor hasn't finished setting up an industrial board. Once you finish you'll get a couple hours to play with the replicator.”
“A couple of hours?”
“The sooner you start the sooner you finish, Admiral. The quicker you do the longer you have until the next scheduled project comes up,” Sprite reminded him.
“Then let's get going,” he growled. He wanted to maximize the time he had for his “payment.”
Chapter 28
Commander Sindri checked the morning feed and swore viciously at the top header. “Ah bloody hellfire and brimstone,” he cursed. He kept cursing for a good five minutes until Lieutenant Gray came in.
“What's up boss?” Jory asked.
“Frack me. What the hell happened?” the dwarf demanded, waving his tablet. He threw it against the bulkhead. The plastic case shattered.
Jory winced. “I'm guessing you read the report.”
“Is that what you call it?” Sindri demanded. “One tap of an OMS and he impaled himself onto a girder?”
“Yes,” Jory said, shaking his head. “Right through his helmet. Even with modern medicine there was nothing the medics could do to save him,” the lieutenant said. “He was green, a new kid on his first week in the yard.”
“Frack,” Sindri muttered, closing his eyes. He heard and sensed Jory going over to pick up the broken tablet. “Leave it. I'll get it later,” he growled.
“I've already got most of it sir,” Jory replied quietly. “Captain Vargess and that JAG lawyer called to say they are working on expediting the investigation. It's pretty cut and dried, they have his suit's black box plus video feeds from several camera angles.”
“He wasn't tired or anything?” Vestri rumbled, opening his eyes.
“Not a bit that I'm aware of. Just ... green. He made a mistake and he paid for it,” the lieutenant said, spreading his encumbered hands in helplessness.
“Paid heavily for his mistake. Damn it,” Vestri said. “I'll contact the family.”
“It's being handled sir by OPS and a contact team.”
“Good,” Vestri said. “Get me a new tablet. I need to write a letter to the family.”
Jory nodded. “Aye aye, sir,” he said soberly as he left.
...*...*...*...*...
“How is he taking it?” the admiral asked as Lieutenant Turner handed him his report. He'd already noted that the yard's temporary work stoppage for the investigation had cost them a day. Restarting wasn't so simple for some processes, though it had let some of the industry to stockpile a bit of equipment and material. It put the gunship line and first corvette two days behind on their due date he noted.
“Commander Sindri? Or space apprentice Fallon's mates?” Turner asked.
“Both. Either or. I'm more worried about Sindri. I know this will affect morale. Hopefully they'll take safety a little more seriously from now on.”
“Until the next accident,” Sprite said darkly. “What happened wasn't anyone else's fault. Fallon misguided himself and over-corrected. Some people believe their implants or some AI will save them. Even computers have limits.”
“Nice of you to admit that,” the admiral said as Turner opened and closed his mouth. He turned back to the lieutenant.
“Sir, I know Commander Sindri is ... taking it hard. He's been on everyone about safety, even ordering a mandatory recheck of everyone's piloting skills.”
“Good for him.”
“It's throwing the schedule into chaos though,” Sprite warned.
“Shit happens. Sometimes you have to show people you are trying to prevent it from happening again in order to move on,” the admiral ground out. He saw Turner flinch slightly. “Fallon's crew?”
“His boss got hammered when he went off shift. A few of the others did too. They ended up in a bar fight at O'Malleys. They are sleeping it off in the drunk tank.”
“Sheriff Derrango had a few words about them too,” Sprite interjected.
“I'll call Sindri. Are you headed o
ut?”
“To the planet, yes, sir,” Turner replied with a nod.
“Dismissed then. Don't miss your shuttle,” Irons said.
“I'll certainly try not to sir,” Turner replied over his shoulder as he trotted out.
After a long minute of staring at a report and not really comprehending it the Admiral set it down with a sigh. “Put a call in to Vestri,” he murmured. “See if he's available.”
“He's in his office,” Sprite said. “Connecting you now sir,” she said as the wall screen lit up with the dwarf's broad face.
“Admiral, sir. What can I do for you,” Vestri said gruffly.
“Having a rough week, Vestri?” Irons asked softly.
The dwarf eyed him for a moment then grunted. “Damn straight. Bloody sucks,” he muttered. “Please tell me you aren't calling to pat me on the back.”
“Far from it,” the admiral replied. He mentally set aside the idea of a counseling session with Vestri. He wasn't mentally prepared for it. “Though I think you should get some counseling once the dust settles.”
“It's a bitch loosing someone.”
“That it is. I know we've had accidents before. On the ships and here. But ...” the admiral shook his head.
“One slip. The kid was impatient. He had her on manual. His OMS was sticky he said. He should have come back and racked the suit and done something else. But he ...”
“Had something to prove. And he wanted to get the job done. He knew it was important,” the admiral said.
“Damn this ... war. Whatever it is,” Sindri muttered. “Everyone's in a blasted hurry. Getting my kids killed. For what?”
“To win. To make sure we don't lose,” the admiral said, shaking his head. “It's not your fault Vestri. It's not really his fault. Shit happens to good people.”
“I knew lady luck would only be with us for so long. Up until now we've been lucky,” Sindri said.
“But luck doesn't last forever. Loosing someone sucks. I know. You have to learn from it and move on.”
Vestri shook his head. “That's cold.”
The admiral worked his jaw then nodded slightly. “That's war. I hate it too. And no, you'll never get over it. Not fully. Just do your damnedest to make sure it doesn't happen again.”
Vestri nodded grimly. “You can count on that, Admiral.”
“And of course, the downside of that is it never happens the same way twice. Not unless it is a damn dangerous job,” Sprite said in an aside to the admiral once Sindri signed off.
“Don't I know it,” he sighed. “Funeral arrangements?”
“Being handled. Full military honors as you insisted admiral. The family wants to keep it private though. The media is trying to be respectful of that in their time of grief.”
“You mean they are saying that but actually jockeying for a better shot?”
“Something like that. I've cut out the satellites passing over the area at the time so they can't use it. And the cemetery has high walls. Security will be on hand and well, the marines will have rifles for the salute.”
“They better not use them on the media. Think of that mess,” the admiral replied.
“Well, the good news there is that they wouldn't have far to go to clean the mess up,” Sprite said. He growled. “Okay, moving on ...”
...*...*...*...*...
When interest in the navy waned slightly Sprite released a series of interviews and media files to reignite things. Some of it was documentaries of their travels with scenes she had culled from the video record and not passed on to the media. That kicked up renewed interest.
She then got the admiral to do a series of interviews with Toni Chambers and April and the growing media and promo work for navy recruiting. The other reporters were polite and a bit awed by him. Apparently there was no resentment over his abandoning the system.
"Sorry." Irons didn't look up as the reporter apologized and then apologized again.
"Oh, sorry," Irons said as the throat clearing and Sprite's none too subtle flash on his HUD got his attention. "Reading a report. You were saying?"
"I ... wanted to apologize for last time, Admiral."
"Last time?" Irons asked, turning to the sheepish reporter. The young man ran a hand over the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable with the situation.
"Yeah, my editor and the station owners put me up to that hatchet job."
Sprite blinked on his HUD. "He's talking about your first visit," she informed him.
Dawning comprehension flashed over the Admiral's face briefly. He nodded. "It's all right. We all do our jobs, or try to do so. I think we can put that behind us right?" he asked, looking at the young man and then his camera crew setting up.
The light guy shrugged. The sound tech turned, checking her equipment.
"Yes, sir," the producer said, putting his earphones on. "We're on in thirty seconds folks. Shake a leg! Get the lead out!" he said turning and glaring at a few of the slower people. Men and women began to move at a much brisker pace.
The reporter settled into the chair across from the Admiral and then nodded as a makeup artist came in with a pad and took some of the shine off his right cheek. The lighting tech added a shade as well. Irons snorted.
"So we're good?"
"Believe it or not, I've been around the block a few decades," the Admiral replied with an amused half smile. "We're good. Keep it clean and honest and I'm cool. Believe it or not, I'm dating one of your colleagues."
"You're engaged to a reporter?" the reporter asked, eyes wide. What a scoop he thought as the crew turned to them.
"No, that's not what I said. I am, or was dating a reporter."
"You were. You mean you don't know?"
"Well ... it happened on Destiny. It's a long story ..."
The producer waved and started counting down from ten. Irons snorted and nodded to the camera. "Which I can fill you in later," the Admiral said.
"Definitely!" the reporter said. "This I want to hear. Is he as good looking as me?"
Irons turned in surprise as the producer waved to indicate they were on the air. The Admiral closed his mouth and snorted as the reporter started the introduction.
"And we're on the air with Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons, hero of Pyrax and Antigua ..."
...*...*...*...*...
Sprite appeared on the admiral's desk and shook her virtual head after she finished her latest call. “You know that is the second group this week after the factory ships?” she asked, interrupting the admiral's chat with Captain Samuel, Lieutenant Nobeki, Ensign Raynor, and Ensign Hr'tz.
“The same groups?” the admiral asked, raising a hand to stop the conversation. The captain seemed a bit put out over the interruption. She didn't say anything however.
“No! That's just it, they are start ups! They want to buy, lease, or borrow the ships or even just time on them! They even want low interest loans to do it!”
“They can't negotiate with Prime?” Lieutenant Nobeki asked. “Wait, no creds?” She sniffed in derision.
“Apparently not. Not when they barely have enough creds to make the call here,” Sprite said with a shake of her head. “Or they don't want to pay the prices. The general idea is that now that we've got the yard up and running we don't need the ships anymore.”
The admiral snorted. “Hardly. We're just getting started.”
“Yeah I know that. You know that. Try telling them that. I have, it just doesn't sink in. I know some organics have thick heads ...” She shook her head. “I do have to admire their determination. I just wish it wasn't directed my way,” she said.
“Sucks to be you,” the admiral replied with a small smile.
“Cute,” Sprite replied with a grumble.
“Admiral, what are we going to do with the factory ships once they are no longer of use here?” Captain Samuel asked.
“Well, that is a matter of opinion. They will always have a use here, if only to supplement what the yard industry is producing, or make o
ne off equipment, expand the yard, or make equipment to stockpile for the convoys,” the admiral said. The captain nodded. She crossed her legs and sat back, knowing there was more to it than that.
Carnegie had recently finished setting up the docking slips last week, and then turned her attention to the fuel stations. After finishing the expansion program there yesterday the admiral had turned her crew loose on Prime for forty-eight hours of liberty before they would start up on making a new run of mining tugs and equipment to expand their industrial base.
While most of the crew were off blowing their pay in the casinos, bars, and theme parks on the station the admiral had sicked Andrew the ship's AI as well as his army of mechs as well as the skeleton crew on catching up on deferred maintenance. It would soon be her turn to repair and refit and he'd wanted to get a head start on the survey. The ship had been repaired on an adhoc basis on the go since they'd picked her up in B101a1. He'd managed a major refit in b100 omega, but the constant need for her services had made it only a partial job.
“We've got a thousand and one jobs for her to do,” the admiral said. “Defensive projects for one,” he said with a wave of his hand. “The answer is no. If they can't understand it, then take the gloves off.”
“Aye aye, Admiral. I'm actually relishing the next time one of their people call and get a bit pushy or whiny,” Sprite said with a smile.
“Where did the pirates pick her up in the first place?” Lieutenant Nobeki asked, raising an eyebrow. Ensign Raynor nodded. The admiral noted the historian was rather eager to know as well. His lips puckered in a slight smile.
“You could look it up, it is in her file. But the short story is it looks like the pirates picked her up near Crellis some time ago,” the admiral said.
“Crellis?” Naomi asked, wrinkling her nose. “Sounds familiar.”
“Dead system. The Xeno's wiped the planet out during the war. The population was evacuated. Those that survived. The entire system is quarantined due to all the nanites in the system.”
“Crellis ... Crellis ... It's not ringing any bells.”
“Here,” Sprite said, pulling up a star chart. A circle icon karated a blinking star on the lower right of the sector. The image zoomed in to it. “It's a single jump chain to this sector from the Xeno Stargate. One of the first discovered actually. The entire chain was laced with nanites and hyper mines though so it's dangerous space. Both sides did it. Even hyperspace is a death trap. But our Intel says that the Stargate was definitely destroyed. Not that it did us any good. The Xenos figured out how to connect to the rest of the gate network somehow,” she said darkly.