by Chris Hechtl
Logan nodded. “As she should be. Good. Command out.”
“Firefly out.”
---( | ) --- ( | )---
April in a fit of pique, did a piece on Firefly's imminent departure into danger. It was breaking news, interrupting Governor Walker and an arranged debate. The public went into a tailspin, moving through confusion to various stages of hysteria and denial as the other media outlets got wind of the plan and checked their own sources for confirmation.
Some of the competing media outlets took on the story hesitantly, reluctantly, with outstretched arms. They didn't want to be burned. But when confirmation did come in, the spin doctors kicked in with polls on whether Firefly should go or not, and whether the navy was criminally insane.
Having done her duty as a reporter, April headed to her boss. She was shown right in and waited briefly as Knox finished putting a picture up.
While he fiddled with its orientation the red head looked around Knox's spacious office. This was the company's second move in a year. Each time upward, to larger more spacious quarters. This latest one came with an executive corner office, quite large, with windows looking out to the park deck below. It was plush, with a giant wall screen and even a wet bar. “My, you have been spoiled,” she murmured, as she continued to look around.
“Just a bit,” he chuckled looking around himself. “My wife is keeping me honest,” Knox replied, settling with the picture for now. He turned and sat.
“How is she?”
Knox frowned, cocking his head. He knew April was looking for an opening, but he'd settle for small talk. “Settling into the new house fine, but she's still uncomfortable with the social circles we're now traveling in. She's had some issues. They apparently turned their nose up to her for doing menial work.”
“Oh, ouch,” April said wincing.
“So,” he said, sitting in his overstuffed chair. “What's on your mind?” Knox asked. “As if I don't know. Let's get it off your chest. The answer is no.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. “You don't know me that well. You don't know what I'm asking.”
“Oh, but I do,” he said with a chuckle, moving side to side and then picking up a stylus. “You are an open book to some,” he said. She blushed angrily. “And I've been a reporter too. I'm not manning the anchor desk as often, but...” he shrugged. “I know that look. Still no.”
She studied him. He didn't flinch, which said a lot. She could usually charm her way out of or into anything, but he was holding firm, she could see it in his eyes. “You've put on weight,” she said, noting his bulging stomach.
He looked down and jiggled his tummy. “Too much time in a chair, not enough time in the gym Sonya said. And you're changing the subject. No.”
“Boss...”
He held up a finger and waggled it back and forth in a no-no sign. “Don't plead, don't beg. No. No whining either, you know I hate that.” He eyed her. “And no pouting,” he said, shaking the stylus at her. “You know I hate that too. And keep the flirts down. You know Sonya hates that.”
“Knox, I need this. This is the big one, the big thing.”
“No,” he said, voice sing songing the negative.
“Look, an embedded military correspondence on Firefly will do good for both us and the military.”
“No,” he said. “And that's not just coming from me April, Horatio said no.”
“Then I'll quit,” she growled, eyes flashing dangerously as she pulled out what she thought was her trump card.
“Then they'll really have no reason to have a civilian tag along,” he pointed out. He spread his hands. “Look April, I need you. You're one of my best people. You are popular, you normally don't play favorites, and you are becoming a celebrity in your own right. This isn't like you. What gives?”
She turned and looked away, crossing her arms. After a long minute she inhaled and exhaled slowly. “John may be there,” she said softly.
“John,” Knox said, frowning. “John...”
“The Admiral.”
“He...wait...April...”
She turned, eyes afire. “We got word from that ship that he was in Epsilon Triangula, about to do a long jump.”
“We did?”
“I did. From a confidential source. I promised not to post it. Besides, I didn't have confirmation.”
“You...” He scowled. He knew the game. He knew sometimes you had to wait on confirmation and you didn't breach a source; they might get burned or refuse to pass on tidbits later.
“John said he's taking Phoenix to Beta 100 omega. On the other side of us. From there he's headed south to Bek.”
“Bek.”
“Bek. A small system that fell off the map it seems. He's headed there. Through Beta 101a1. Where the pirates are.”
Knox inhaled and exhaled slowly. “I see,” he finally said, catching on.
“No, you don't. It's not just a taxi thing. I'm not doing this just for...” she ran an angry hand through her red hair. “Argth!”
“Settle down,” Knox said. He sighed, shaking his head as he toyed with a stylus. “This doesn't change anything. He's a big boy, he'll look after himself. We have to trust that.”
“You aren't worried he's flying into a trap?”
“Yes. No. I don't know. With the Admiral?” He shook his head and tossed the stylus down onto his blotter. It rolled to the edge. He lunged and caught it before it fell off. He grimaced and set it down on the blotter again. “Stay,” he said firmly.
That little act helped April restore her center a little. She smiled slightly at her boss's antics.
“Look April, he's a big boy, he can take care of himself. I bet if he sees the fleet he'll jump here. Or he'll turn around or something. He's not going to tangle with them. I mean...let's hope not.”
“Yeah, well, I know John. He's...powerful.”
“I know. I've met him too remember? And yeah, I know about his AI. I know he could probably do something nasty to that fleet, but he's only one man. He has to know attacking it solo is a losing proposition.”
“Yeah well...”
“Request denied. You are too close to it, and besides,” Knox frowned. “I already heard from Horatio. He called personally and told me to tell you no.”
April's face fell. She bit her lip. “Damn.”
“Yeah. No reporters. They aren't chancing anyone on this. It's supposed to be a reconnaissance raid, jump in, see what's going on, hit what they can, then run like hell. So chances are...” he shrugged.
“Do you think...”
“I think they are treating this as a potential suicide mission just in case. Which if I was in their shoes, I wouldn't go. But...” he shook his head. “You can never understand the military mind.”
“Chance favors the bold,” April murmured. Knox gave her a long look and then waved her off.
“Go, get out of here. I've got to work on this damn spread sheet. Since the navy has set up contact with Antigua and they want to join this New Federation, we've got to expand. I need someone to set the desk up there.”
“An entire system?” April asked. “My we have been growing.”
Knox snorted. “We started small, but yeah, we've grown into quite a mighty ever tree haven't we? And spreading, which leads to growing pains. This is one of them,” he indicated the tablet. “I need a familiar face to run the anchor desk. I'm going to take volunteers soon.”
“Count me out. I'm interested in being in the field.”
“Yeah well, I'll still pencil you in. We'll need field reporters there too.”
She opened her mouth and then closed it. “I thought you said I'm popular here?”
He shook his head. “No, as a roving reporter, you are popular with the public at large. Which is now a lot of other systems. Gaston sent a request for you to visit and do interviews.”
“They did?”
“Yeah, on that ship that came in, the Mariah's Mischief. They brought in the mail. I got it and thought you'd want
to go just to catch the Admiral's trail.”
“But you never told me...” her eyes flashed angrily. He spread his hands.
“Don't be that way, April. Honest. I can't have you off chasing him throughout the sector. The expense alone...”
“I get it,” she said angrily, teeth tight. “Fine,” she snarled.
“Go. Get. Just go. Before one of us says something else we'll regret,” he said waving a dismissive hand. She turned and left, slamming the door behind her so hard one of his plaques fell. He winced but didn't say anything.
Chapter 10
Admiral Irons’ speech in Antigua became a major viral download once people got word of it. It and the presentation Commander Sprite had created proving the Admiral's innocence were the two top downloads, with hundreds of thousands,and then millions of hits. The various media outlets picked them up, with each picking them apart and spinning one part or another for their own benefit.
The renewal of interest in the Admiral and the military altered the public perceptions. Some media outlets were cautious about interpreting the polls, pointing out that a swing one way or another wouldn't matter in the long term.
The Governor was angry when he got the latest poll results. His industrial backers were worried, wanting the Navy to do something. Chico Lake of Lake Electronics and Robert Dean of Dean's Aerospace, along with the slim and snake-like Madra were there with him. They had pointedly taken the time out of their busy schedules to hear his call and Commander Logan's response to it.
Chico Lake was a big man; despite the advances in diet and genetic engineered metabolism he had still managed to grow a spare tire around his middle. He loved bling, wearing gold rings and a heavy gold chain around his neck. He wore a blood red shirt, unbuttoned down almost to his navel. His pants were black, with a gold chain in one pocket. When he was annoyed he liked to take the chain out and smack it into his hand meaningfully.
Robert Dean was a contrast to Lake, a slim consummate professional in a sharply tailored charcoal business suit. He'd kicked together a repair shop out of his family's business years ago. Not wanting to be a grease monkey his whole life, he'd instead gained investors, did a bit of off the books work, and some accounting shenanigans with overtime to rise to a manager's chair and then expand.
Some said he'd risen over the back of his own family as well. Quite a few of his cousins had died in accidents or suddenly quit and sold off their shares in the business for a song to him over the past ten years until he was sole owner of the company. It was said that he owned his own molecular furnace and put it to use recycling other forms of meat products from time to time.
When the Admiral had kicked things into gear four years ago it had been Dean who had seen the opportunity quicker than most and had acted on it. He'd snagged as many contracts to make repairs as he could. His people had gotten on the factory ship Hephaestus and used it to their own advantage until the damn Navy had stepped in and taken her back.
Madra was a ghost white apparition. He had white skin, but long flowing black hair. He dressed in a white kimono suit. His face was long, with snake-like irises.
Madra owned an investment group as well as holdings in several power companies. He had tried to purchase the solar concerns the Navy had created, even at one time attempting to force their concession through the court only to be stymied. Not to be undone he had looked to other ways to achieving his goals.
Madra had a finger in every pie it was said. Nelson theorized that he did so that he could be on the inside, gaining valued intelligence and to play one group off on another. His hooks were deep into Walker's campaign finance; he had his own man in as financial director of Walker's re-election campaign.
“Are we ready for this?” Walker growled, taking a seat behind his desk after shaking each of his backer's hands.
“Yes, sir, we're ready to place the call when you are. We'll have to keep it short though, the astrography in the area isn't...” Nelson's slightly whiny voice petered off as his boss gave him a cold look of disdain. “Well, we'll do our best, sir,” he said quietly.
“Fine, fine then, put the call in to the Navy and that bastard Logan. Let's get this over with,” Walker growled.
“We're connected, sir. He's online now,” Nelson said softly, pointing to the camera. “You're live in five...” he counted down with one hand and then reached over to press the on button.
Walker scowled briefly, batting the hand aside. “Ah, Logan. Good day,” he said.
“Good day to you Governor Walker. What's on your mind?” Commander Logan drawled.
Lake snorted softly off camera. Walker's eyes cut to him and then back to the image of the Commander. Commander Logan looked old, like some ancient spacer. He was in a blue trimmed officer uniform behind a desk.
“I know we've got some issues with time so, I'll get right to the point,” Walker said. “I know about the attack. It would have been nice if you'd briefed me before I'd heard about it in the media.”
“We've yet to confirm there even is an attack coming, Governor.”
“Oh? So it's all rumor?” The Governor said.
Madra looked amused. Lake frowned, leaning back on the plush couch he was on, one arm outstretched on the back rest. He toyed with the drink he had in his hand.
“No, we've got additional independent confirmation from several sources actually,” Commander Logan replied. “I won't go into details because I don't want to compromise the investigation or its sources.”
“Ah, I see,” the Governor replied awkwardly. Dean made a motion with his hands for him to get on with it. He frowned but nodded slightly in response.
“So, what is this about an attack? You aren't standing on the defense?”
“No,” Logan replied with an amused sniff. “No war has ever been won while sitting on the defense, Governor. I believe in hitting and hitting hard. I'm tired of being a target. I'd think you'd feel the same way.”
“True. And I do like the idea of getting some of our own back,” Walker admitted. “Especially against the pirates,” he said frowning. “But aren't you, well, what is your plan anyway?” he asked, interrupting himself.
“Classified. I can say we're planning a spoiler raid.”
“Using Firefly and other assets? So, you're stripping the defenses bare to do this? You do realize they could very well pass the enemy in transit? Or they could be one system beyond? We don't know.”
“Which is why we're going to do the raid. It's a reconnaissance in force, Mister Governor.”
“And thus leaving us vulnerable. You're going to take our strongest asset...”
“Firefly isn't our strongest asset, Governor,” Logan interrupted.
“Don't interrupt me,” Walker growled. “Where was I, oh yes,” he said frowning. “No, I absolutely forbid this...this foolish act of senility. Going to Agnosta was dangerous enough, deliberately stripping our defense...”
“Governor, as I said, we're not stripping our defenses. I hadn't even planned on Firefly being here,” the Commander said patiently. “When she went to Antigua...”
“And that's another thing! That damn stupid run to...to Agnosta!”
“Antigua sir. No, it wasn't stupid.”
“They...we need that ship here! Where she belongs! Standing shoulder to shoulder defending our people! Not some strangers!” Walker growled.
“Oh hell no! First off, Firefly did the right thing. You really want the pirates to have that station? A full-on factory city? Can you just imagine what they'd do with it?” Logan demanded.
Walker's eyes cut to his industrialist backers. Lake made a motion of agreement with his fingers. Dean winced and then nodded. Madra said nothing.
“Hell no, we're not standing on the defense here; like I said, I believe in taking the fight to the enemy. That's what Firefly's going to do. She's going to find out what is there, rip them a new one, then run for home. If they are stupid enough to follow, well, that's their funeral isn't it?” he asked, with a feral smile
. “I've got my people putting in the goodies for them to walk into.”
“It'll be a slaughter,” Nelson murmured.
“Who asked you,” Walker growled, glaring at his chief of staff. Nelson hunched his shoulders, head down as he clutched at his tablet.
“What you are saying, the risk involved. No. It's suicide. We'll lose Firefly for sure and this system. You are gambling the lives of everyone here...”
“Hell no, spoiler attack, we're going to jump them before they can get here and pound them into rubble. I'd rather have the battle there, but here it's on our turf under our own rules and time. Or as close as we can arrange it like that,” Logan said, shrugging.
“I order you...” Walker started, voice rising in a crescendo of fury. He didn't like to be stymied, and in front of his backers, he knew his impotency could be the death of his career, if not his own very real death.
“It's funny. You kick us in peace time, but now that war is at your front door, you scream, hoot, holler, yelp, and make all sorts of noises. Well Governor, space is a vacuum, sound doesn't travel in it. And guess what? There is a lot of that between you and me. I'm the Commander in charge of the Navy assets in this system. I say go. Firefly goes. End of discussion,” Logan replied coldly, stepping on the Governor's signal with his own override.
“I see,” the Governor said coldly, glancing at the others. He hit the mute button with a stab of a manicured finger.
Nelson, the chief of staff, spread his hands apart helplessly. “Hey, you wanted him to do something, he's doing it. On his own. Either get behind him or step aside. You'll get run over by the polls if you don't, sir. If this gets public, you'll look like a fool,” the Governor's chief of staff warned.
The Governor's eyes cut to the industrialists. They nodded reluctantly. He hit the mute button again. “You still there, Commander?”
“Yes. I have nothing better to do then sit around listening to myself talk,” Horatio replied with a drawl.
“Insolent as usual. I've reconsidered the situation, Commander. Although my concerns that Firefly will pass the ships in transit are still there, I believe your arguments are sound. You are correct, something has to be done. I approve of your decision, Commander,” the Governor said, sitting up straight as he smoothed his shirt.