by Chris Hechtl
What he didn't like was that his choice for a person to be on the list had been left off. Saul might be his chief of staff but he was doing an excellent job at it, even though he'd had to learn the process along the way. But he had little ship experience and virtually no combat experience under his belt. Those were multipliers for other officers.
He'd also recently been promoted to full commander after the last round of promotions six months ago. Technically he had at least a year or more before he could be slipped on the captain's list. But that didn't stop the admiral from resenting that he couldn't. Saul was good people.
Admiral Irons' choice of one of them had him torn. He didn't like the nepotism involved, though he knew John would take a step back and abstain from deliberations with her.
“It's … going to be a headache and a half. We'll see how it goes. For the moment we don't have to worry about the Bekians since they went to Nuevo. So, I need to check on progress with the yard, then the latest exercise with Third Fleet. Any problems at the academy, Captain?” he asked.
Firefly shook his holographic head. “No, sir. Recruiting is up for the quarter. Most of it is coming from our system though. I think we've reached a saturation point in system … at least until the next generation grows up.”
“Which will be a while,” Phil replied with a frown. “No new intelligence from the prison?”
“No sir. Captain Teague would have alerted us.”
“Okay, there is that,” the admiral replied. “And the political front is shockingly quiet for once. I'm almost afraid to ask why.”
“Don't, sir. Don't look gift horses in the mouth, sir,” his chief of staff warned.
“It's not so much that as getting bit in the ass by not seeing something coming. I hate the idea of being blindsided, so keep an ear out, will you?”
“Of course, sir.”
“Fine then. Moving on,” the admiral drawled, ticking off points on his internal list.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral Irons stopped what he was doing when Iab brought him news of the Caroline report. “I'm glad they made it, though we already knew they'd gotten through the rapids.”
“Yes, sir,” Sprite stated.
Admiral Irons scanned the report and then grunted. “So, two more flag officers: a commodore and a rear admiral. Glad to hear it. The more the merrier,” he said with a nod. “We need them. I'm betting both are Battle Fleet officers. Amadeus could use them,” he said.
“I'm pretty sure some won't agree with that, Admiral,” Sprite said.
The admiral raised an eyebrow in surprise. He turned to face her holographic avatar. “Oh?”
“A lot of people may feel threatened by them. Suddenly unknown people put in charge of them? No background, no foundation … and remember, some like Harris were looking forward to moving up through the ranks. This will slow things down. There will be some resentment over it.”
“It might. We're still planning on promotions, remember? The board meets this week,” he reminded her.
Sprite nodded. She had access to the file. She'd noted her own name was on it. “True.”
“Then they don't have much to worry about. We're talking a pair of flag officers, not an army of them. Though I could use that too.”
“I'd say we'd be in a case of having too many chiefs and not enough Indians if we did hit that scenario, sir,” Protector stated.
Both Admiral Irons and Sprite cracked a smile at the quip. “Point. So, get the staff to go over the report. I know it's going to take time to come in. Let public affairs know Caroline reported in and is on its way to Nuevo. Just something light, they don't need all the details,” he said.
“Yes, sir,” Sprite replied with a nod.
“After that, you had a brief for me to read?”
“Yes, sir. Several actually. I know you have bios to read over as well. But there are several proposals in your inbox. And we have one minor dilemma.”
“Oh?”
“We received a complaint from a delegation. Public affairs handled it, but apparently not well enough it seems. It was passed over to Secretary Sema who just sent it back to us. A minor HEAT round, sir,” Sprite warned.
“About?” the admiral asked cautiously.
“It's not what you think. Apparently, we have a destroyer with a name that the delegates and senators from New Texas and Syntia's World, as well as Avalon are in objection to.” She put a name list up. The name that was second from launch blinked at him.
“Nate Champion? It doesn't ring a bell. Okay, I'll bite, why?”
“History, Admiral,” Sprite said. “You don't know the story?”
“Forgive me if I don't know everyone,” the admiral replied dryly.
“Okay, it is ancient Earth history in this case.”
“And you know this …”
“It is in the Encyclopedia Galactica. The story has been referenced many times due to problems during the colonization period.”
“Okay … still lost,” he said as she put an image of a man in western clothing up with a bio.
“Nathon D. Champion became a martyr in the ancient territory of Wyoming in North America during the Johnson Cattle War of 1892. That's the Earth year.”
The admiral pursed his lips.
“He was a rancher who stood up against the cattlemen and cattle barons who claimed the cattle on the range. He stood a heroic last stand in a cabin and held off twenty-three men with just a revolver for an entire night before they set fire to the cabin. He wrote a moving letter during that period while under fire.”
“Hence the martyr. The little guy standing up to big brother?”
“Or in this case, a group of corrupt, self-serving, ruthless people. The barons got off even though they had drawn up an assassination list of seventy names. They bribed court members, witnesses, and even killed or intimidated witnesses.”
“So there is a big edge of sympathy there,” the admiral said with a nod.
“Correct. And so we have a problem. Nate Champion standing off a group of armed men is a good story. But the people in charge of those planets, and probably a few others, don't like it. They don't like the reminder. And since two of the delegates and one of the senators from New Texas are cattle barons …”
“We have a diplomatic problem. I'd tell them to go pound sand, but you have something else in mind?” he asked.
“Yes. We need to do a bit of horse trading with them. We get them to back off on the crap they are pulling in Congress, and we in turn dump the name down a rabbit hole.”
“I'm not comfortable … hell,” Irons sighed. “Okay, it's just a name.” He waved a hand.
“So you are okay with it?”
“If they are willing to give up their first amendment rights on their own accord … without any pressure from us.”
“It's their idea actually.”
“Fine then,” the admiral said.
As he watched the name blinked and then was deleted. A new name was put into its place.
“Now you get to tell Vestri why we did that and BUPERS, and anyone else who calls to ask why without mentioning the deal so it doesn't go public,” Protector stated.
“Wrong, the commander gets to do that. I've got other things on my agenda,” the admiral said, waving them away as he picked up a tablet. “I've got …,” he checked the time, “an hour to go through these briefs and check the bios before lunch. Enjoy,” he said.
“Aye aye, sir,” Protector and Sprite said in unison. Sprite visibly winced.
“And here we go with the inquiries,” Sprite murmured.
Irons ignored her. Instead he propped his feet up on the edge of his desk and hummed as he read the brief.
Chapter 26
Admiral Irons had enough captains to keep his hands out of the lower rank promotions board. He was glad that he had to only contend with the flag rank promotion board. It had taken a lot of patience and some politicking to get the other officers to finish deliberating and vote on the three can
didates they'd had narrowed it down to.
Once they finished BUPERS passed the news to the Public Affairs Department who then announced the lists in the Fleet Times publication the following morning. The actual promotion ceremonies were to be carried out by the end of the week. Where possible they would be done in a lump sum to simplify things.
Technically he knew that everyone deserved their day to shine individually. Unfortunately, he didn't have the time or patience to handle individual ceremonies. He'd be at it all day every day for a week if they tried that.
There would be promotion ceremonies held in each star system that had people who had been promoted. Admiral White's command had been sent the list of personnel to promote. The list had been based on their last performance reviews.
Along with the promotions list had come an award ceremony for those found worthy. Many of the awards went to those in Second Fleet. Amadeus would have to attend to them when he had time. Those that were awarded posthumously would be sent to the person's family along with the flag of the federation.
There was one ceremony he relished attending however. Commander Sprite had been promoted to Captain Junior Grade. Sprite's ceremony was simple. Nata'roka, Fletcher, Protector, Proteus, Mnemosyne, and others who couldn't be physically present attended virtually. Captain Thornby and others were there in person.
When the ceremony was complete, Sprite's rank insignia changed to a captain's insignia. The symbol was a silver Terran eagle with a shield. Embedded on the shield was the flag of the federation. Her formal uniform changed slightly as a new rocker was added to her shoulder boards and her cuffs.
Doctor Thornby was one of the first to congratulate her once the applause died down. “I wish for once I could shake your hand, Captain. You've more than earned it.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the A.I. replied. “Thank you.”
“One more A.I. captain. It's about time, Admiral,” Mnemosyne stated, eying Admiral Irons.
The admiral shrugged such comments off. “They walk their own road and earn the rank just like everyone else. Some take a bit longer than others, but they know it,” he said, nodding to Fletcher, Protector, Proteus, and Sprite. The A.I. officers nodded back. “I'm proud of them and their achievements. Many more to come,” he said, pitching his voice to the group as a whole.
“Here here,” the Ssilli avatar seconded. “Not to put a damper on this, but are you regretting promoting flag officers without being there, Admiral?” the alien asked, turning an eyestalk his way.
“No,” the admiral replied with a shake of his head. “Harris earned his; he'll find out when he gets to Protodon. I already transmitted him his keys so he's good. We can do something formal later.” He left unsaid that if there was a later for the officer.
“And Trajan will get his promotion when word gets to Second Fleet,” Sprite said with a polite smile.
The admiral nodded. “As for the other …,” he shrugged. “Admiral Subert will handle the promotion in good time.” He said. “But we're here for Captain Sprite. Traditionally, I believe the captain is owed a drink. But that's obviously not going to happen,” he said with a grin her way.
“There were a few times I'd wished I'd had the ability, believe me,” Sprite drawled. That earned a chuckle.
“But, since we can't do that, and we've got the rest of the evening off …”
“How did you manage to arrange that?” Nara demanded. “You taking time off? My word, the galaxy is going to come to a screeching halt!”
Irons snorted. “As I was saying, we've got the evening off, so let us organics go get a drink in the young lady's honor, and then we can exchange some stories about her. I know it's unfair that she can modulate or turn off her emotional emulator, but it'll still be fun,” he teased.
“Just a warning, I can and will retaliate. And I know some doozies about you, sir,” Sprite replied with a grin.
“Ahem, um …,” Irons squirmed, which made the audience chuckle again. “Well, ah …,” he rubbed the back of his neck.
“Come on. You can face it like a man,” Nara said. He snorted.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral Subert kept his face expressionless as the Veraxin marched into the compartment. They exchanged salutes. “Captain X'll'rr, It is my honor and duty to promote you to commodore,” he stated, removing her golden eagle insignia off her harness to replace it with a five-pointed silver star he took from the jeweler's box Saul was holding for him.
He'd known her for a bit on Lemnos. She had been a ship captain, one of the shooters like Amadeus that had been brought on board to bring a down-to-earth perspective on the pie-in-the-sky ideas that the Think Tank usually came up with. He'd managed to score her to take on the First BC squadron after she'd had some time off and then a short refresher at the academy crusher. She'd done an excellent job handling Venezuela and then Peru.
The Veraxin scuttled back a step and then saluted once more. He returned the salute.
“Commodore, by now you've downloaded your orders. But for the audience,” he said, nodding to the cameras around the room. He'd been talked into it by public affairs and Saul. He regretted the hoopla, but it wasn't about him so he did his best to get over it. “You are now in command of the First and Second Battle Cruiser Squadrons. You're going to be busy, Commodore,” he said.
“Thank you, sir,” the Veraxin buzzed back.
Admiral Subert nodded as she made a sharp right turn and then stepped over to the side. She stopped and turned to stand next to newly promoted Captain JG Ss'rik'thh. The Naga held himself erect as proper etiquette dictated. He would be acting as her junior in Second Squadron.
On the other side of the Veraxin was newly promoted Captain SG Liota Chavez. The Bekian looked pleased but bemused by the ceremony. Her promotion had been overdue, and she would be taking the reins of the battle cruiser Peru shortly, taking the place of the newly-minted Veraxin commodore. Peru and her division mate were to be detached to form the nucleus of the Fourth Battle Cruiser Squadron in a few months.
On the other side of her was Junior Valdez. The young man had been promoted to senior grade captain despite the admiral's misgivings about his limited amount of time-in-grade. But he was also their best candidate for a carrier admiral. He was certainly doing fine with Argus.
Admiral Subert turned and nodded slightly to Saul who used his implants to call the next and final recipient in.
After they exchanged salutes, Saul handed him another black velvet box. “Captain Samese, it is my honor and duty to promote you to the rank of commodore,” he stated.
The Neogorilla nodded. “Thank you, sir,” he said softly.
“You've done an excellent job in the fortresses. Keep up the good work, Commodore,” the admiral stated.
“Thank you, sir,” the Neogorilla stated. He saluted the admiral. The admiral returned the salute.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral Irons was surprised to find a different sort of news article hit the media the following morning. The crew of Molly had worked out a deal to set up a civilian yard in Epsilon Triangula. They filed papers the evening before through the ansible and were working to set up a corporation. Apparently they had been in secret talks for several weeks.
According to the article, the new as yet unnamed corporation would get major tax write-offs and protection from Governor Tweed. Governor Weng in Senka expressed disappointment over coming in second. It surprised Irons that they'd been bidding at all. He'd been so focused on other things he'd missed it apparently. He shook his head as he continued to read the article while he ate breakfast.
Cookie saw his distraction but didn't object beyond a sniff. He looked up briefly then went back to reading.
Apparently they had even brought in the crew that had wanted to salvage the yard modules. Faith planned to transport them to Epsilon Triangula in several loads along with the components for the third and fourth ships they'd laid down.
He nodded. That explained where the spare hyperdrive components he'd made h
ad went. With Tweed in their corner, he could appoint an industrial board and license them to make starship components … just as soon as the heavy weight governor found the time to get to him to get his implants that was.
For the moment they were going to have to purchase the drive components from Antigua. He wondered if they'd thought of that? Possibly. It would definitely stimulate trade he thought. Shipping would be needed to flow from Antigua south through the jump line, through Centennial and Gaston. Unless she thought they'd get them from Pyrax? He wondered if they'd thought it through, he thought as he sat back and picked up his coffee. He used his thumb to hit play on the video link.
He couldn't help but crack a smile at seeing Faith right off. Her Celtic burr was noticeably absent … well, mostly.
“Why do you want to give up being a ship captain?” the reporter asked. “I am here with Captain Meikle. Captain, I thought it was your life dream to run a starship. Now you are going to do this? Why?” she asked.
“Ack, don' fast yourself,” Faith drawled. “To be honest, I've always been an engineer at heart,” Faith said with her trademark Celtic bur waving a dismissive hand. “I'm going to turn Molly's reins over to Shandra. She's got what it takes to handle the filly. I'm more interested in settling down for a while and building ships.” She shrugged. “Besides, I told Doc Clarissa I'd look after Mindy while her daughter went to medical school groundside.”
The admiral rolled his eyes. Faith was going to have her hands full he thought.
“Why did you choose ET over Senka or elsewhere?” the reporter from Galactic Spotlight News asked.
“Well, to be honest, ET's past history of corruption made us think twice. Senka offered us a sweet deal too. But they are on the front lines, and we took a vote. None of us want that sort of exposure. ET's banks and government offered us loans and insurance to get us up and running, and they've promised hands off. The planet has a lot of population we can draw on for hiring, plus we're already working out manufacturing deals with the industrial concerns on the planet. Plus, like I said, we've got access to the college and medical campus here. I think it's a win-win here.”