by Chris Hechtl
“True. Be seated ladies and gentlemen, let's try to keep this short. Commander Sprite?” He asked.
Sprite was standing at ease on the table. She nodded to him and then dimmed the lights. The holo projection came up behind the admiral. The same image was squished down to two dimensions and fed to the tablets in front of each officer. “Admiral Irons and I have identified four mission goals of the fleet. They are as follows. One, rebuild the Federation and support the efforts to reconstitute the military branches and the government.”
“Simple to say, a bitch to do,” White muttered.
“Ahem, agreed,” Sprite said with a nod to the chimp. He snorted softly. “Two, protect the worlds under the navy's care from the Horath Empire as well as any other independent outfits or pirates in the area.” She looked about the room. “Again, easier said than done considering the current balance of forces,” she warned. Admiral Halsey nodded. “Three, recontact the other sectors of the galaxy and establish order in them. Subsection under that is to map the sectors as well as gather intelligence for future use,” she said.
“Logical. A bit tough to do. You are going long term there, sir,” Commodore Subert said with a look to the admirals.
“Yes. Balancing the mission parameters will be tricky initially. Once we get a handle on the Horath problem and get more support from the worlds under our protection that should change however,” Admiral Halsey said. Sprite nodded.
“The fourth mission is to help the civilians rebuild, and resurrect any species we can,” he said, nodding to some of the alien officers at the table. “And the fifth one is to find out what happened with the war, track down any Xeno's in the galaxy, and stamp them out,” Admiral Irons said.
The room temperature seemed to cool a few degrees with that flat statement. There was a grim growl from some including the neochimp.
“I want to add a sixth,” Commodore White said, raising a finger to get their attention. “Go to the Xeno galaxy and destroy them once and for all,” he said grimly.
“That should be the priority now,” Captain Lyon said grimly. Commander Howell nodded, as did Egon and White.
Admiral Halsey glanced at Admiral Irons. Irons shook his head. He instantly knew he was going to run into resistance. “No. We have to ensure our base first before we go off after them,” he said grimly.
“Revenge could leave us vulnerable to the Horathians to sweep the field behind us,” Sprite warned. “We should let sleeping dogs lie. At least for now,” she urged.
“The sleeping dogs you mentioned may be building up to destroy us once and for all commander,” Commodore Subert said. “And the admiral's point is also valid. We don't know if there are Xeno fleets still rampaging through this galaxy. Do we go off to destroy them and leave our galaxy to burn as the fleet did centuries ago?”
Admiral Irons had to admit that point ... both points were a valid concern.
“So, we need to rebuild to prevent that first! It makes no sense to send the meager force we have off on a suicide mission!” Captain Sampson said.
“It's not just that. There may still be Xeno fleets here. Remember their robotic fleet? Or ships. Assets of all sorts. We are in one sector of this galaxy,” Sprite reminded them. “Who knows what is going on elsewhere? It will take decades to insure the Milky Way is clear of infestation.”
“They could have set up colonies here. A bridgehead,” Commodore Subert said.
“It's a possibility, sir,” Commander Howell said quietly. “They could be anywhere.”
“Let's not get too paranoid just yet,” White said, holding up a restraining hand.
“Just because we haven't seen them doesn't mean they aren't out there. Even paranoids have real enemies. And they live longer.”
“Living in fear isn't life. It's just an existence,” the admiral said. “So, we're going to do something about it. Eventually. But for now we're going to stick to the small picture.”
“I know I'm not going to like the answer, but ... what assets do we have Admiral” Commodore White asked.
“I'll tell it to you straight. We're outnumbered at least twenty to one,” the admiral said. There was a small gasp in the room. He ignored it as Sprite put their Intel up for all to see. “Our intelligence is limited right now, but what we know is grim reading,” Irons said darkly. “In capital ships they have eight, we have two. We have two small but growing military yards and one small civilian repair yard. They have at least three yards in their home system that we know of. They have depth and large populations to draw personnel and workers from. We're just getting that going on our end, and we have a lot of territory to defend.”
“Damn,” White murmured, rubbing the whiskers on his chin. His brown eyes studied the star chart. He didn't like what he saw.
The admiral shook his head. “They have the initiative, and they know the area. They have been raiding shipping and worlds in the sector and surrounding sectors for centuries,” he stated.
Commodore White blinked and then shook his head. “Damn,” he muttered, over and over. It was clear he was a bit shaken. “Just two capital ships? That's it?”
“The navy isn't even a shadow of its former self. More of a ghost. But we're not giving up. They have some captured or suborned personnel on their side. That's new. But we have us here,” the admiral said.
“Frack,” Admiral Halsey muttered. Admiral Irons shot him a look.
“You mean we have you, Admiral,” White said eying him. “I'm command track. I don't have many engineering keys. I never did.”
“I was admin, that leaves me out,” Commodore Subert said. “I have very few,” he said shaking his head. He looked at Admiral Halsey.
“I have a lot of keys,” Halsey admitted. “Not as many as you do though sir,” he said with a nod to Admiral Irons.”
“I'm fighting for the wrong side,” a Veraxin officer joked.
“You can't fight for the other side. They kill any nonhumans. Even uplifts,” Sprite interjected. “They have set up a policy of extermination even Hitler and Skynet would be proud of.”
“Skynet was out to kill all life, Commander. Including humans,” Admiral Halsey reminded her.
“True. I stand corrected.”
“We're wandering a bit off topic here. Horath has a super dreadnaught, another dreadnaught, a battleship the Shen Long, at least five battlecruisers that we know of, as well as other capital ships we aren't sure of or don't have a clue about. We've taken one away from them, the Maine. We also have one Tauren battleship under reconstruction in Pyrax. That's it for our battle line assets at this time. Everything else is smaller or under construction. And since I'm here, their construction is frozen or severely limited.”
“So why are you here then?” Commodore Subert asked. “Not that I want to appear ungrateful or anything, Admiral. Sometimes I wish you'd left us to the sleep of ages though. This ... this galaxy we've awoken to,” he shook his head. “It's a nightmare. A pale shadow of its former self.”
“But with care we can return it to its former glory,” Sprite replied. “Commodore, Admiral Irons has laid the initial groundwork with his travels. The objective was to scout the area, establish ties with the communities and their leaders, help them rebuild, and reawaken the idea of a central civilization. The meme that they can rebuild, that there is hope. That they can fight back and build a better tomorrow for their children. That seed is sprouting nicely. Now it needs care and tending for it to grow.”
“I think we need to recess to consider that. And get a fair and accurate account of your travels, Admiral,” Commodore Subert said, looking at the Fleet Admiral. Irons frowned slightly, then nodded diplomatically.
...*...*...*...*...
Commodore Subert and White lingered in the wardroom with Commander Howell after the mission meeting. White was clearly unhappy about the results of the mission brief and made no bones about saying so to the other officers. “I like hard fights but I still think we need to be fighting the damn Xenos,” White said.
“That's the last war. We don't know if they even exist at all,” Subert stated.
“That's right, we don't. One way or another we need to find out.”
“So what, abandon the yards? Take a bunch of ships and go off who knows where poking at shadows?” Subert asked, eying the chimp.
“Sir, should we even be discussing this?” Commander Howell asked carefully.
“He's venting. Let him vent,” Subert said, sounding like the voice of experience.
The chimp's fur rose in indignation. He bared his canines for a moment but then looked away, visibly getting control of himself.
“Well, something has to be done. We can't go on like this forever,” Commander Howell said flatly as Captain Lyon rejoined them.
“What are you saying?” The marine asked carefully. “What'd I miss?”
“Irons.”
“Ohh,” the Marine said with a nod. “Yeah, him. His reputation and the reality leaves a lot to be desired,” he said. “He's not living up to his billing at all,” he said shaking his head.
“Careful captain,” White warned with a growl. He turned to the commander. “What are you after?”
“I'm saying we need to clear the air. Get it out, every nitty little thing he's done and pick it over. Get over it and then move on. If he doesn't like it, he can resign,” the commander said. “I've reviewed some of the files. It makes for very disturbing reading,” he said.
“Something has to be done,” Subert murmured. Whatever the admiral had done was getting about in the officers and enlisted now. It was undermining his authority. Even he had fallen into a resentful attitude during the last meeting.
“Agreed,” White said with an air of resignation. “We have to talk to him.”
“I'm not happy about it; it's borderline insubordination or mutiny. It is definitely prejudicial to his authority,” Commodore Subert mused. “And it could poison our relationships with him down the road.”
“You're seriously worried about a career?” White asked with a snort. Subert had to smile over that idea.
“If we frame it correctly sir, it should defang the emotional issue,” the commander said carefully. The other officers looked at him. “We've done such things in the past after all. A review board to review Admiral Irons past actions to 'clear the air'.”
“I'm not so sure. That is pretty close to a drumhead court martial of our own superior officer. We weren't there.”
“But we have his recordings and statement to base his actions on,” Howell argued.
“But we can't call witnesses. Neither side can,” Captain Lyon argued, clearly on the fence about the idea.
“Put it off for now,” Commodore Subert said when his implant bot beeped. “That's my schedule keeper reminding me I need to be somewhere else. I imagine the same goes for all of you. For now, stop this discussion. Don't let it travel down the chain of command.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Lyon replied immediately. White and Howell murmured similar assurances. Subert nodded and left the compartment feeling troubled.
...*...*...*...*...
The Watcher identified a potential method of removing one of the threats. It was ironic that the files from the personal history of the organic Irons gave it the idea. It would take a minimum input of aide from the Watcher's host to get the job done. And a little tinkering with the video records would keep the host's record clear. It set the trap and then waited patiently to spring.
...*...*...*...*...
While the admirals worked on selecting what data and pieces of equipment to take with them, Commodore Subert, Yao, and the chief set teams loose to tear into the station. They were to survey the equipment then the choice equipment would be disconnected and bundled for later transport to Antigua. Admiral Irons planned to send Admiral Halsey back to the station with a small engineering team and convoy to loot the station of valuable equipment. The industrial centers and labs alone would be worth their weight in any valuable ore one could think of. The data cores were priceless.
But as they worked they started to run into the occasional accident and problem, increasing in danger. Brown outs in the electrical grid were common, as were the occasional overload when OPS failed to rout the power correctly. Still, they were making progress. And if Irons would just hurry the hell up they could get the hell out of here Jarol thought. He was looking forward to a long walk on the beach with Amanda. She promised him a glorious sunset. If they got back in time they'd be able to visit her home town before the winter season hit. Hell if he'd walk on a winter beach! Too damn cold for his bones, he thought with a pucker of his lips.
He couldn't help but smile slightly. Maybe it was the antidepressants, maybe it was just having a lovely woman showering him with attention. Maybe it was the coonie she'd smuggled on board for him to pet for a while. He wasn't sure. He felt good though. He nodded to a rating in passing then kept walking down the companionway. He rounded a corner just in time for the EPS conduit across the wall from him to explode into his chest. He didn't even have time to scream as superheated plasma melted his torso into ruin.
...*...*...*...*...
“What the frack happened??” White snarled, stomping into the wardroom.
“That's what we're trying to figure out Amadeus,” Commodore Subert said, shaking his head. He picked up his empty cup of coffee and went for a refill. He knew where the chimp was coming from, he was thrown for a loop and didn't know what to do. Finding someone or something to blame was natural.
“It was an accident. Something maintenance overlooked in that conduit. Or time. Seven centuries is a long time for metal fatigue to set in,” Egon said.
“A plasma burst in that particular part of the station at the exact time he was passing through the area?” Sprite asked carefully.
“What are you saying, Commander? Accidents do happen unfortunately. And sometimes good people get caught up in the works,” Winston said.
“You of all people should be a bit more suspicious of the circumstances,” Sprite reminded him. “Ten seconds before and he would have known it was there. A second after he'd passed through the area and he would have been fine.”
“Murphy ...”
“There is more to it than that,” Sprite said doggedly. She turned to the admiral as the officers froze. “Admiral, the camera and sensor feeds in the accident area were offline. Just them. And only for the one minute time period before, during, and after the accident.”
“After of course because they were blown to smithereens or melted into ruin,” the security officer said with a shake of his head. “I see where you are going, and I agree, Commander. But we have to eliminate the other circumstances first. Could the sensor malfunction have been a genuine malfunction, Commander?” Commander Howell asked carefully. “We've had a lot of brown outs and some accidents,” he said. “And as captain Egon has said, this facility is old. The sensors going down could have been the first sign that there was an imminent failure in the works,” he said.
“Possibly. But it cannot be ruled either way. But here is something else,” Sprite said. She pulled up a link. They frowned at the blinking icon.
“Okay, what are we looking at?” the admiral asked.
“This is Admiral Halsey's implants. His security AI has been wiped,” Sprite said flatly.
“A necessary precaution when one of us is terminated,” Winston replied. Commander Howell nodded.
“But not immediately after an accident, there has to be something for intelligence to access to determine the cause,” Sprite explained. “And before you say anything, I checked the protocols carefully. I tried to access his implants to assess his injuries within ten seconds of the plasma burst. I didn't trigger the self destruct. That tells me someone else attempted illicit access prior to my arrival and that triggered the security AI's lobotomy programming,” she said. “But not to the point where it used his nanite package to do a full meltdown. And this happened just after he died.”
“Just enough to w
ipe any recordings and files he had?” Winston asked as Sprite handed him the time line she had assembled. “I see your point, Commander.”
“Foul play,” Commander Howell murmured. “You are right. That doesn't happen by accident,” he said, turning to the admiral.
“No. No it doesn't,” Sprite said. “Once, twice coincidence but this ...”
“I don't like it.”
“I can vouch for our people sir,” Captain Lyon said loyally. “I know them. They wouldn't do this,” he said, eying Captain Sampson.
“And therefore mine would captain?” Sampson asked, eyes flashing.
“First there are no my people or his people. We're all military, start acting like it,” the admiral said. “I'll put Defender on it.”
“Sir, with all due respect this is our job,” Commander Howell said firmly. He looked at Winston. The AI nodded. “Let us do our job sir,” Howell said.
The admiral nodded reluctantly. “All right. Take the marines and Defender then. But find out who did this.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Tread carefully. We don't need or want a witch hunt. If it gets out we have a traitor among us people will tear each other apart,” Phil warned, holding a finger up as he set his coffee down with his other hand.
“Understood.”
“It could be a mental issue? Not so much a serial killer ...” White paused when Phil groaned. “What?” he demanded, turning on the other flag officer.
“So don't go there Amadeus, please. Don't jump to conclusions. I agree, it could be someone dangerously unhinged by the war, the time lost, or ... other factors,” he said, carefully not looking at Captain Sampson. “We don't know.”
“And we can't afford to rule anyone out,” Winston said. “We're on it. Try to keep speculation to a minimum. And don't discuss this with others,” he warned.
“Agreed. Dismissed,” the admiral ordered.
After the officers filed out the admiral stared out the view port for a long moment.