by Chris Hechtl
Admiral Irons shook his head as the political fallout continued. Calls were still coming in to his office. Some wanted clarification, really stroking and reassurances that they'll win. That the boogey man was going to go away.
Unfortunately, he wasn't confident he could give them just yet, he thought, letting out a puttering sigh.
Protector noted his mood swings. His simulation of the admiral's thought process judged that a minor intervention might be in order to keep the man on track. Otherwise his carefully crafted schedule would be further ruined.
“A lot of wringing hands and strident voices going on lately, Admiral,” Protector stated cautiously. “But the secretary of state and cabinet had stepped in line and are making small headway.”
“And I'm glad we've got a public affairs department to handle the bulk of the rest of the clamor,” the admiral growled. He'd just had to deal with a trifecta of terrified senators from Triang and Senka. The meeting had been scheduled for work on getting them on board his latest trade proposal, but that had been derailed. He should have left it up to Moira or someone else he thought.
He definitely needed more staff he thought. A.I. could handle a lot, but they too had their limits, he reminded himself.
“Well, some of it at any rate. I'm getting a bit of the backlash as is Commander Sprite. We're all getting splattered,” Protector said, bringing him back to the conversation at hand. He shook himself.
“It comes with the job. We didn't choose the uniform to be liked or to make just the easy decisions,” Admiral Irons pointed out. “Sometimes we have to do the stuff they don't like.”
“Don't expect thanks though, sir,” Protector warned.
“I try not to. It'd be nice, but I've … learned not to,” the admiral stated, looking away pensively.
:::{)(}:::
“We got a bloody nose,” Governor Jeff Randall said as his chief of staff shook his head.
“Bloody nose hell! We got our asses chewed!” Daffyd Bruneski stated in thorough disgust. He'd never been a fan of the admiral or his navy and now that angst was coming out full bore.
“But we didn't completely lose. Those ships survived,” Jeff stressed.
“Yes. Most of them. I noticed he didn't release which ones or the casualty lists.”
“Because he needs to notify next of kin. It's a hell of a gut punch for a parent or spouse to find out their loved one died through the news media. Rather callous and I know Irons isn't like that.”
“True.”
“We should order those ships home.” Daffyd stared at Jeff as the governor started to protest. “What? They were built here! They belong here,” Daffyd said, stabbing a finger into the desk top.
“Well, technically no, some were built in Pyrax,” the governor stated.
“Details …”
“Second, if we recall them here, we abandon the star systems between here and there including Protodon.”
“Sucks to be them!”
“Which would mean we'd abandon the defenses and fortresses built in Protodon,” the governor continued as if the other hadn't spoken. That brought Daffyd up short. “Now, consider this, would you rather they fight elsewhere or here, right under our noses? You know, where a loose missile could wander into the space lanes? Kinetic weapon fire tearing apart the solar arrays? All our industry? Or heaven forbid, hit the planet?”
“You've made your point,” the burly chief of staff growled, looking away.
“I'm not happy either. Nor is the admiral. The good news is the fleet took a beating, but it didn't get destroyed. Now they are on the defense, yes, but they can ambush the enemy fleet when they jump into B-95a3. They can get some good licks in there, then fall back on Protodon and do it all over again; this time with a hell of a lot more firepower at their back!”
“You think the enemy admiral will stop?”
“He'll damn well have to! Our ships can repair faster, resupply faster. He has to know we've turned Protodon into a black hole. No, we send them what is needed. If you protest you'll be ignored, and when you are proven wrong, and trust me, if I know Irons, I know from experience you will be,” he said pointedly, “then you'll have egg on your face. Don't be that man.”
“All right, I'll keep my mouth shut,” Daffyd sighed.
“Okay,” Jeff said tugging on his lapel for a moment as he got himself under control. “For the record though, I'm not trying to gag you,” Daffyd stared at him. “I'm saying temper your thoughts and words. Don't react in haste and fear.”
Daffyd nodded grudgingly. “Understood.”
“Good. We need to listen to all sides.”
“As long as you actually listen,” Daffyd retorted.
“We take counsel from our fears and let them temper us as caution, but we do not let them stop us. We move on, continue to stride for a better tomorrow, a better future even when the risks seem great and overwhelming. For that is the only way to win,” Jeff murmured.
“Nice,” Daffyd stated. “It'll play well in the next election.”
“It's a quote from a famous federation president. I'll send you a link sometime,” Jeff said. “Now, what about our stance on education? I know the federation has tried to bring the other members up to our level while giving us a small amount to expand on our system. We've been modeling our alterations to the current establishment after careful review of federation standards—old federation standards. Is there anything we can do to step it up? Keep Antigua as the showpiece of the federation? Especially on that front?”
Daffyd frowned thoughtfully as he changed mental tracks. “Well, the education of our workforce will be vital in the future. The introduction to electronics is a part of that. Modernizing our educational system to reflect that is also important. I know Eternia has been our model; I suppose we can explore that some more, see what we can learn. Early exposure to math, language, and concept manipulation has proven of value, but we need to continue and build off that base or it slumps. We've seen that in four districts where they focused on early learning at the expense of the higher levels.”
“So you suggest an across-the-board approach?” the governor asked.
“Yes, but an incremental one. Too much change too soon causes disaster. Teachers are only organic after all; we can't adapt fast enough when given new alien concepts to manage. Remember, they haven't been exposed to it all their lives; some are only getting to see things for the first time a few days or weeks before their students!”
“The teacher becomes the student. Quaint.”
“Isn't it just? I know a lot resent it too.”
“Tough for them. If they can't adapt, they need to get out of the way for those who can. But you said incremental, so I'm wondering what you have in mind.”
“Well, getting them used to electronics is important. Games have proven to make the adaptation easier because people take it as a mental challenge not an onerous one. It is in fun.”
The governor nodded. “Learning through games. An old practice I think?” he frowned then nodded. “I think my parents mentioned it.”
“Yes. It is a good learning tool. So is social media, but that can backfire. We've seen a sharp increase in cynicism, cyber bullying, and other problems there.”
The governor frowned. “I'll have to look into my kids experiences,” he murmured.
“Yes, parental controls to reduce exposure is probably important. We tend to shield our young, which is why they and we look back at those times with fondness,” Daffyd stated thoughtfully. “But back to the schooling, my staff is working on a series of workshops and camps for teachers. Places to learn in a loosely structured environment.”
“Loosely as in …”
“Remember, this is traditionally their off-time, so we were thinking a resort or summer camp. Family thing. Paid of course.”
“Right,” the governor drawled. “The media will have a field day about taxpayer money for resorts,” he warned.
“We can work it out. I did realize something
though,” the chief of staff stated.
“Oh?” Jeff asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“You help your children with their homework, right?” the governor nodded. “So in teaching them new concepts, the parents will be a bit out of their league. Some will learn the process themselves, if they are mentally flexible enough that is. Keeping that process alive will make them more adaptive as well.”
Jeff frowned thoughtfully. He hadn't honestly considered it from that angle before. “Interesting and better than trying to introduce sleep teaching which I understand has problems,” the governor stated.
Daffyd shuddered. “Don't get me started.”
“I won't. I like the idea of engaging both parent and child in games, learning games. We should explore that more.”
“Okay,” his chief of staff said, making a note as he nodded.
“Get me that workshop plan. You were thinking test areas first?”
Daffyd nodded again as he finished the note. Jeff hid a frown. His old friend had implants and even a tablet but still relied on pen and paper. Apparently the kids weren't the only ones who needed to learn. Repetition dulled the experience and made it easy, but you had to do it first and Daffyd was either not willing or fell back on old habits. But it wasn't the time to tease him about it he reminded himself.
Besides, the old grump would probably growl something about teaching an old dog new tricks, he thought cheerfully.
“Yes, we need tests to get the bugs out, then monitor, make adjustments, then broad spectrum once we know we've got the process down and then additional workshops each time to introduce each new concept. New younger teachers will be more adaptive.”
“Understood,” the governor replied. “Figure out where you'd like to start and let me know.”
“I will. Now …”
:::{)(}:::
Once Lieutenant Locke took over the Protodon ansible, Admiral Sienkov, Commander Lake, Fletcher, Captain Montgomery and the ONI staff went over the INTEL dump as it came in, sometimes downloading the raw extracts. Unfortunately, the information was the basic facts; the ansible was limited due to its bandwidth. In order to get the full story and all the details, they would have to wait for a ship to carry a copy of the report to them or agonize over the ships they were given. Each day they were given a little bit more information—either something the lieutenant thought they should know or something they had requested. The lieutenant kept it all brief however.
A courier had been dispatched with the full extracts within hours of it receiving the full download. But it would take weeks to get the information into the analyst's hands and then processed.
“So, what you’re telling me is, you have little to nothing new to add to the narrative,” Admiral Irons stated when Admiral Sienkov and Captain Montgomery met him for the weekly intelligence briefing.
“Pretty much. We're massaging what we've got with what we know, but it's frustrating.” He shook his head. “Admiral, Captain Montgomery and I have been discussing the situation.”
“The battle?”
“The bigger picture. As it stands I am the civilian head of intelligence without any people in the departments. I rely on ONI and public statements; essentially, I am a talking head.”
“And you're frustrated by that. You want more, Admiral?” Admiral Irons said. “I know you've taken on some duties at the academy and you've done an admirable job stepping up as my deputy with Home Fleet. Now what?”
“For the moment,” Captain Montgomery frowned, “I'd like Admiral Sienkov to take the reins. I'd like to learn from him.”
“Small window. You realize you need to oversee the civilian side as well, Yorgi,” Admiral Irons stated, looking at his fellow flag officer, “plus all the other talking head roles you play?”
“I get that. Essentially I want to take a bigger role in ONI. Tweak a few things while keeping Monty here on as my deputy to execute them. He can learn from the experience.”
Admiral Irons frowned. He glanced at Monty. Monty didn't seem too upset by the idea. “And when we receive intelligence officers and operatives from Senka? And what about Marine and Army INTEL? I know you haven't made much progress with the civilian department either,” he stated.
Admiral Sienkov grimaced. “That's the other thing I'd like to do. What I'd like is to borrow Monty here as well as Fletcher, Teague, and Lake to get those other departments framed out in outline form. My taking on a greater role in ONI will allow him to handle a few things there that I honestly have little to no experience doing.”
“So, in your eyes it is a win-win. You are each taking on parts that the other is weak on while trying to learn from the process at the same time,” Admiral Irons stated.
“Something like that I suppose you could say,” Yorgi drawled.
“Admiral Subert has also made inquiries about ONI sir. I … was wondering if he was considering reassignment as its head eventually. When his tenure in Pyrax was up,” Monty stated quietly.
Admiral Irons frowned thoughtfully. Phil had indeed made some noises but no overtures to step down from his current posting. “I can talk to him. I can't leave Pyrax uncovered though, which is some mighty big shoes to fill obviously.”
“It is something to consider for the future, sir,” Yorgi stated. “I know we have several dozen good flag officers in Bek eager to come out and strut their stuff. Putting one in charge of Pyrax would allow Admiral Subert to be freed up.”
“And you, Monty? The two of you don't exactly get along you know,” Admiral Irons reminded him.
Monty frowned then shrugged. “It wasn't personal, sir; we are all here to do a job. I've been learning on the job. Each of us also take a different approach to it. A shake-up is probably in order.”
“And what would you do, sit back and teach?” Admiral Irons asked, eying him. They both knew Monty wouldn't last well with Phil in charge. He got on extremely well with Yorgi, but Phil … Phil, Admiral Irons had misgivings about.
“I … was about to say we can cross that bridge when we come to it, sir. But I was considering an ONI sector station position. Take command of a group and insert us into a sector, then let me set up networks and send back intelligence about what we learn.”
Admiral Irons frowned as he sat back and thought about that sort of scenario. It made sense in some way. It would put Monty out of Phil's reach initially, give him his head to use his own initiative, and he had obviously learned something from setting up the network in Rho sector. Giving him the chance to prove himself with a blank slate and some help would make sense.
“Okay. Do you have a sector in mind?” the admiral asked. “Just curious. Nothing is written in stone as of yet you understand,” he warned.
Monty frowned then shrugged. “I'd like to go to Sigma to find El Dorado,” he said but then grimaced. “The problem is it'd take years to get there going the long route. Another idea is Pi, since I'd be going in the right direction,” he said. Admiral Irons nodded. “But I understand you are considering Tau as a priority over the other sectors.”
“What gave you that idea?” Admiral Irons asked, taken aback.
Monty smiled. “I read the extract on your plans for Commander Logan and Prometheus,” he stated. “You want them to do a little more work in the southwestern part of the sector with an eye to going into Tau and cleaning it up. Set up bases and act as a sheriff to bring law to the lawless, that sort of thing. She'll need eyes and ears, sir.”
“That is … something to consider,” Admiral Irons stated, nodding slowly. “You've given me a bit to think about, you realize that right?”
“Yes, sir. Fortunately, we've got plenty of time, sir.”
“Yes, yes we do,” Admiral Sienkov stated. “At least for that. If we don't get this meeting finished I think our keepers are going to be insufferable,” he said.
Admiral Irons snorted then nodded. “Okay, so, you have the basic frame of the battle in B-97A, and I assume you've run it past Otto and the tactical computers to sim out what we
know so far. That's helped generate a list of questions for you. What else?”
“Well …”
:::{)(}:::
Two days after the news of the battle of B-97A came in to Protodon, a small bit of good news arrived as a fresh contact was forged. Admiral Irons got the news from Iab, the Neochimp secretary of communications. He stopped what he was doing to read the Neochimp's email.
The ship transporting the ansible links to Bek and Nuevo had only got as far as B102C before it had to stop. The journey through the rapids had left them with only 12 half-muons left in 1 of the Ansible cores so there was no point continuing on; the rest would be lost if they had tried. The limited connection would allow limited ability to communicate with the capital; therefore, Captain Greta Barnes of the Dora class Sally Ride made the hard call.
Her people set up shop in B102C. They deployed the platform and then carefully placed the ansible inside. When they were finished, the connection was down to eight bytes due to the additional jostling of the final transfer and connections. Bek and Nuevo would need to talk with capital with couriers to the ansible or low priority regular message traffic carried by ships that risked the rapids.
“Admiral, it's good news,” Sprite said.
“A small bit, yes,” he replied with a straight face.
“Very funny,” she drawled as her avatar rolled her eyes. “The other bit of good news is that her helm crew can be transferred to another ship to back up your harbor pilot concept, sir,” she stated.
“Once Sally Ride gets out of there you mean,” the admiral reminded her. “Still, there are what, three chimeras and two Agnosta selkies on board? That is good I suppose.”
“Though it will make further deployments of ansible cores not as smooth I suppose,” Sprite reminded him.
He frowned thoughtfully then shrugged. “For the moment, Bek has priority.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
“News on Horatio?” Admiral Irons inquired. Commodore Horatio Logan was on board the light cruiser Caroline en route to Bek. The light cruiser was carrying more manufacturing gear as well as data packets and officers to begin to bring Bek up to full federation member status.