by Chris Hechtl
“Wow,” a midshipman gushed.
“My sentiments exactly,” another murmured.
Chapter 29
“Admiral, if Antigua hadn't worked out, would you have gone back to Pyrax? Or would you have gone elsewhere?” Lieutenant Turner asked as they finished up a lunch meeting.
“Bek,” Sprite said.
The admiral scowled briefly. He didn't want that brooded about. But the cat was now out of the bag.
“Bek?” Captain Vargess asked. He frowned thoughtfully. “I don't recognize the name.
“For good reason. She's an isolated system. Very hard to get to,” the admiral said.
"Why sir? If it's that far off the beaten path? Why go there at all?"
"Because of that very reason. Bek is hard to get to. It has not one, but two tough jumps to get to it. My original plan was to stop along the way, refuel, then make the jumps."
"But if no one has been there ... do we even know if it's still there?" Lieutenant Turner asked carefully. Irons just looked at him. "Um, sir?"
"Better. Yes, I know it's a long shot. I doubt refugees managed to get there, it was far too dangerous to get to with a large ship. But it has something going for it, a small repair yard."
"A what sir? A repair yard? A repair yard sir?" Captain Vargess asked, now excited.
"Yes."
The captain blinked in confusion, then shook his head. He glanced at Turner who shrugged helplessly. "How do you know this? I mean if no one has been there ..."
The Admiral smiled. "Because I'm the one who built it."
The light dawned as the captain's expression cleared suddenly. "Oh."
"It was in the early stages of the Xeno war. The admiralty wanted a couple of aces in the hole. Places off the beaten path where we could tuck a shipyard away and where traffic wouldn't give it away."
"Oh."
"Commander Sprite hasn't heard anything about Bek in any of the histories she picked up, so I'm confident it's still there. But we won't know for sure until someone gets there."
"So, are we? Going there I mean sir?"
"No," the Admiral said, shaking his head. "The passages are just too dangerous for these ships with green crews. You've got to be on top of your game to run the rapids. Even Ssilli and dolphins had a rough time of it. They loved it for the challenge."
"So, why go? If it's so dangerous sir, isn't it not worth the risk?"
"I was pretty much running out of places to set up shop. I figured there I could. I wasn't certain if I could pilot Phoenix through the rapids, but I assumed if I took it slow enough, I might be able to swing it. With a semi functional yard off the beaten path I could build ships and coordinate my efforts eventually with Pyrax."
"Ah," Lieutenant Turner said, nodding in understanding. “But that didn't happen. Here you are. Here we are.”
"Correct,” the admiral said with a tight smile. “We're not doing that. At least not for now. Bek will remain the road not traveled, and her position and information about her is to be classified gentlemen,” he said, eying both men sternly. They nodded, sobered. “Antigua has turned over a new leaf, they have formally requested us so we are going to stay here. And from here ... possibly somewhere else. At least some of us."
"You are serious, Admiral?" Sprite asked him through his implants. The Admiral nodded.
"I think it's time we put some ghosts to rest, once and for all."
"Aye sir, I think that sounds good."
...*...*...*...*...
Captain Karen Hoshi had a problem with her ship. Well, not her ship specifically, she was in better shape than she had been for centuries. Her crew were half ass and she knew it. The problem was twofold, hiring and where to go. Unfortunately she couldn't compete with the yard or Prime for experienced personnel; she had a lot of rookies on her meager payroll. A few she'd sacked because they had already gotten cold feet. She couldn't afford to advertise or put up sign up bonuses.
No one wanted to go on an unarmed freighter into pirate infested space. She was not sure what to do, after her experiences at the hands of the pirates she didn't want to either. She knew being paralyzed with indecision was not good for a woman in her position as captain. Caid was okay as a chief engineer, but he definitely wasn't Kinja. Her eyes closed for a moment. First Irina, now Kinja. She was starting to hate the military. Sure she'd broken up with Kinja but they had no right to steal her people! She shook her head and looked away sourly. She had at least stopped the rest of her experienced crew from jumping ship. It had been simple, in order to cut costs she had stopped mooring at the station. That had freed her up from the high mooring fees the stationers charged. It also prevented the crew from jumping ship easily. Their one and only shuttle was locked down too.
“Ma'am, any plans?”
“No.” She sighed, shooting the acting chief engineer a sour look. She regretted the break up with Kinja every day now. She shouldn't have been a bitch about it. She'd been on a power trip and now it was biting her in the ass.
“Well, we can't just sit here!” Caid told her in exasperation. “Every day we're burning fuel. At this rate we won't have enough to get anywhere!”
“We'll figure something out. For now this system is safe,” the captain said. “Shut up and go fix something,” she ordered.
“Aye aye, ma'am,” he said sarcastically as he stomped out.
...*...*...*...*...
April smiled politely to Governor Randall as they shook hands. “It's a pleasure to meet you again, sir,” she said.
“A pleasure to see you as well Miss O'Neill,” he said with a nod as he indicated they take a seat. He was dressed in a comfortable woolen sweater and khaki pants. April could hear Mrs. Randall shushing the kids in the other room.
“This is certainly different,” April said, looking around the room. They were in the governor's retreat, a cabin in a secluded area on the planet. “Quaint,” she said, not used to the log cabin look.
“For spacers it is ... primitive I suppose,” the governor replied with a smile. “We all need our places to go to unwind. This also serves as a nice place to have a relaxing talk,” he said, indicating the river stone fireplace with the crackling fire.
April nodded. The informal setting would play well with the audience she thought. “Thank you sir for allowing me into your home,” she said with another gracious nod.
“You're welcome.”
“Now,” she said, taking a stylus out and tapping it against her chin as she crossed her legs. “Shall we get started?”
“Of course,” he said with a smile.
“I understand you are working on the budget proposal now that the talks with Admiral Irons have concluded. Do you think you are going to have trouble passing the budget this year? I understand there are a lot of changes,” she said.
“The changes to the tax code is going to be a headache to implement,” the governor admitted. “But we're on it. Paying for the entire budget won't be so onerous as some assemblymen are assuming,” he said with a gentle shake of his head. “Our economy has nearly doubled in the previous two quarters and is set to quadruple since the admiral arrived. I see no signs of it slowing down. In fact I believe it will grow from there exponentially as the admiral predicted. When we throw trade in with other star systems I am confident we'll be well into the black and then some.”
“So you may consider a tax break later on?”
“I don't honestly know at this point. The projections are tentative and we are still in the learning process.”
“Thank you sir.”
“I understand you are in a ... call it a special relationship with the admiral?” the governor asked. April blushed slightly at the turn of events. The governor smiled as her eyes cut to her hovering camera bot. “Sorry, I didn't mean to catch you out Miss O'Neill,” he said.
“Oh yes he did,” Sandra said from the doorway as one of the rambunctious kids got past her. The little girl climbed into her father's lap and grinned up at him. He smiled indulgently
and wrapped an arm around her lap. He tweaked one of her pigtails so she rounded on him with a glower. His innocent look didn't fool her for a minute. She shook a small finger at him then turned away. The three-year-old grinned infectiously at April as her dad got her wriggling with shrewd tickling fingers. “Daddy!” she protested, giggling.
April couldn't help but smile. That tiny elfin face with the dimples and freckles was impossible to resist. And that giggle! She chuckled softly. Inside though, she was pretty sure the 'fireside chat' had been carefully scripted by the governor and his staff no matter the apparent spontaneity of the events. The governor wanted to come across as a professional, but also as a family man she thought with a slight hint of cynicism but approval in her thoughts. “It really boils down to what we wish to pay for our freedom, like the admiral said. What price peace and prosperity?” the governor asked. “I know a lot of people are complaining about the costs, they see it going into space and not spent here. I understand that. But it is going out there to protect what is here,” he said, cuddling his daughter. She turned and gave him a kiss on his cheek. “Family is important. Protecting, educating them is vital, it is our job. All of our jobs,” he said as he bounced the little girl on his knee. She giggled, clinging to his leg. “For they are our future,” he said softly.
“Yes they are sir,” she said.
When the interview concluded they rose and shook hands. The kids made April a little uncomfortable. “Perhaps next time you can come without the cameras. Off duty?” Sandra invited. “And with the admiral of course,” she said.
April snorted. “Getting him to take time off is rough, ma'am. I see him perhaps once a week if I am lucky,” she said, shaking her head.
“I know the feeling,” Sandra said, smiling sympathetically as she patted and rubbed her husband's shoulder from behind. He reached up and patted her fingers. “But they are worth it. Great men.”
“Great women too,” the governor said, turning to wrap her in his arms. She smiled as he kissed her.
“And don't you ever forget it bub,” Sandra mock growled. That got a chuckle from all the adults.
...*...*...*...*...
Sprite was amused that Lieandra hadn't moved from Antigua. “She's just sitting there,” Sprite said when she checked in with OPS. “So is Le More,” she said. “No flight plans, they haven't taken on fuel or cargo. They aren't moored to the stations anymore due to the mooring fees I bet.”
“I know,” Lieutenant Turner replied. He sat back and crossed his arms.
“Ship's that sit still aren't making money. They still burn fuel for their reactors, even though they are only powering life support and the minimum ship functions. Wear and tear on the equipment ... They suck up food, water can be recycled. But still, they aren't earning anything. I bet the crew is restless too.”
“She's stuck. Both of them. Captain Yan'Kelly should have gone with the New Andres group. Or done something,” he said shaking his head. “As far as Le More, I believe someone mentioned in a bar that Captain Hoshi had nixed going with the convoy to Pyrax but now regretted it,” the OPS officer said.
“Sucks to be her. She could have gone south with the New Andres group like you said, or with our convoy to Pyrax. But she doesn't want to run the gauntlet at Centennial. She could have tagged along with Io 11 ...”
“No, I heard scuttlebutt that Io 11's group nixed that,” the AI said. She had heard a bit more than that actually, Io had told her in a parting e-mail.
“Interesting,” the lieutenant said with a snort. “But hardly surprising given captain Hoshi's reputation.”
“And her ship is slower than their ships. They'd be a drag.”
“Ah.” Lieutenant Turner nodded thoughtfully. “Think she'll try to tag along with the next convoy?”
“Most likely yes. From there she'll go south into Seti Alpha 4. But unless ET and Gaston are secure she won't know how far to go.”
“Could she be waiting for the next convoy to go out? Not the one coming in, does she expect us to send another? We've got all those ships just sitting there as well ma'am,” he reminded her.
“I know. And we have the same problem, fuel and maintenance. The crews are on skeleton anchor watch, those that are just sitting at anchor. But the admiral is running the rest back and forth to the belt.”
“For now, ma'am. But they are starships. I thought we were going to go on the offense with them. But that's not going to happen anytime soon is it?” he asked, searching her virtual face. She shook her head slightly. “No, thought not,” he said and then exhaled slowly. “Well. We've had a few inquiries to purchase them. Not many, people do not want to risk their necks out there.”
“They aren't for sale,” Sprite said flatly. In a war freighters acted as tenders and transports. They were precious because yard space was devoted to building warships. They were the life blood of an interstellar civilization as well as a fleet.
“This sector isn't safe anymore anyway,” Turner said, making a face.
“I know. We're working on that.” Turner nodded as the hatch opened. He turned to it.
“Working on what, sir, ma'am?” Lieutenant JG Robin Siegel asked as she entered the compartment. She was a short woman topped by short curly black locks with purple tips. She was one of the new crop that had come in on the Fuentes convoy. Even though the woman was small, she was very, vibrant, a dynamo of energy at work. She had been shy at first, but once Turner had drawn some input out of her she'd blossomed. He'd made a comment about her being a little introverted in a new situation, feeling it out until she came out of her shell. Sprite eyed her, sizing her up in a brief microsecond. Perhaps she would be a good flag lieutenant she thought. She considered the idea carefully, checking the young woman's dossier. She was an ROTC grad from Anvil University. She'd minored in ancient military history as well as martial arts and musical theory. She had spent her midshipman's cruise on Fuentes before she'd been transferred to operations. She'd then taken an OPS position in the B101a1 fortress before being promoted and shipped out to Antigua for another run in Ops. With a little coaching the young woman might be able to hit it off with the admiral. She also made a notation in the woman's file that she should broaden her career slightly with a tour in some of the other departments starting with intelligence. Lieutenant Lake could certainly use the woman's energy and enthusiasm.
“On the situation,” Sprite said, indicating the star map.
“Ma'am, could we hire Lieandra to make milk runs?” the jig asked, pointing a long finger to the map.
“Milk runs?” Turner asked, wrinkling his nose.
“Sure. From here to Triang and back. They could run supplies to the picket there at least, maybe people back and forth. The fleet picked up a lot of recruits in Triang right? Wanna bet there are more waiting there now?”
“We ordered the convoy going to Pyrax to stop and pick as many up as they could and ship carry them to Agnosta for the marine boot camp and on to Pyrax for the navy schools and academy.”
Turner turned to the AI Commander. “It's a good idea, ma'am. Throw them a bone. Keep them busy, fund them and resupply our people.”
“What about Le More?”
“Their problem,” Turner said. “Though we might open the bid on the contract. Or hire both,” he said, eying Commander Sprite.
“I'll talk to the admiral. Good idea, Lieutenant,” Sprite said with a nod to the jig. The young lady squirmed in pleasure.
...*...*...*...*...
Sprite picked through the new group Fuentes had brought in. Most of the group had gone either to the yard or to fill in the holes in the ship's compliments. But now that she had time, she picked through the line up for potential staff officers.
She found one right away, a Veraxin junior lieutenant to take over Bupersonnel from her. She had done a brief stint in Bupersonnel in Pyrax as an ensign before she had transferred to a corvette for a tour of ship duty, then to the yard as a personnel manager. She was good, quite good at her job. Apparently
lieutenant Qr'll'ck was friends with Lieutenant Siegel having spent some class time together. The two of them got along quite well and seemed to be on the same wavelength when problems came up.
She had polled the new crop and come up with a few more warm bodies to fill staff positions. Another officer had taken over Bucommunications from Sprite, Ensign Ch't'te, a Veraxin. The bug was rather chatty which explained why he was in communications. He was also quite unusual to look at, his chitten was a deep bluish purple with yellow highlights instead of the usual brown or red colors. Apparently he was a descendant of a family that had tinkered with their genetics in their past.
Doctor Che was acting head of Bumedical, which brought her up to her current conversation. The human female wasn't thrilled about taking the position; she made it clear she was out of her element. “I'm a doctor, not an administrator. Find someone who can do it,” the doctor growled again, eyes flashing.
“We're working on it,” Sprite replied, checking the roster once more. No names popped out at her. Che was right; she wasn't an administrator. She was a good doctor, but not an admin type.
“I know. Work faster, Commander. I don't want this job. It is too much of a hassle.”
“I know that,” Sprite said tartly. “Sometimes we have to do things we don't like, step up until someone comes along to relieve you. Do the best you can. Unfortunately the only two sources of navy medics are Epsilon Triangula, and Pyrax. So you will have to be patient, Doctor,” Sprite informed her patiently.
She couldn't blame the doctor, Sprite thought as she signed off. And doing her job from Maine while she was out melting rocks was a pain in the ass. At least the admiral had stopped using the tugs to move the things she thought. For now they would be moved through ballistics. They would move them with a tug or ship or nuclear kick in the rear, then slow them down when they got to where they were going. The process took longer but used less fuel. And it also didn't tie up precious tugs for months on end.
But coordinating from the belt was a pain. They had the tachyon link but that only went to the destroyers and yard, not to the planet or smaller ships. So routing a two way conversation was a problem unless it was e-mail.