"Yes, sir. We understand, sir!" Came the crisp, loud chorus.
"I will not forget this day. For this entire assignment, you will be rotating between tasks but always at my command. You have each had your first and last chance. Today's conduct will be recorded in each of your records, along with a reprimand.' Her voice was almost a low whisper, reinforcing her statement. 'This will be your first and only chance. I will recommend the discharge of any one of you that fouls up again. You will follow all regulations and protocol while in my command, or you will be gone. Do you understand?" She snapped the last question.
"Yes sir, we understand, sir." The group responded.
"Stand easy." She commanded and sidled from cadet to cadet matching nametags to information on the datapad she carried, asking questions of each person she confronted.
"Admiral on deck!" One yelled, and all snapped to attention simultaneously as Marie turned, jerked to attention, and saluted.
"As you were.' Admiral Bryant responded as he returned the salute and then continued. 'I came up here when I heard the raucous begin, to see what was going on. I intended to speak to each of you regarding your behavior, but I see it's not necessary. I do want to convey to you that each and every person attached to Boots Fleet is under my Command, whether directly or indirectly. That is to say, that when you are insolent to an Officer in my Command, you are impertinent to me. I will not tolerate it. Lieutenant Ste. Laurent has my complete confidence, as do all my Officers. If she is forced to recommend the discharge of anyone in her Command, I will honor the request. She will assign you duties for specific periods under the supervision of Department or Division Heads. While attached to those operations, you will follow protocol, but you are under her umbrella, always within her authority. I do not want a repeat of this type of behavior from any of you again. I personally selected each of you. I considered you the best of the graduating class. Your actions have humiliated me. They have made me look incapable of assessing personnel. I do not like being embarrassed. Do you understand, cadets?" He hissed the words.
"Yes sir, we understand, Admiral." The line chorused.
"What's your name cadet?" Bryant asked one body in the line.
"Kurt Brubacher, sir." The cadet responded.
"I thought so, Kurt. If I remember your file, you topped your class in all areas. I definitely expected more from you." The Admiral snorted.
"Group!" Marie snapped bringing everyone to attention, as the Admiral turned and headed for the door, without warning.
Marie turned back to the cadets methodically going about the work of finishing the documentation, she'd started before Bryant's entry. When finished, she stepped back.
"Attention!' She ordered. 'This lounge is for everyone aboard. You will not dominate it. You will spend time in your quarters boning up on Boots. You will devote time to learning about the Admiral. You will study protocol. There will be tests when we reach the Fleet. You may use the lounge for dinners and the occasional quiet limited social gathering from time to time but use common sense and discretion. Other people need to move about, and some even have work to do. You will not drink alcohol, while aboard this vessel. You will only drink during off-duty hours aboard an assigned ship, and you will maintain decorum at all times. You will keep assigned quarters neat and clean, and you'll wear clean and pressed uniforms at all times. You will show respect to all you come in contact with. I will tolerate no more of this. You are dismissed!" She snapped as she turned and walked out of the room with a sideways glance to ensure all the cadets remained at attention as she left.
"Remind me never to cross you, Sergeant Major." Bryant quietly wisecracked as she returned to her seat.
"Is that a crack...sir?!" She responded with flashing eyes.
"No, it isn't. As a matter of fact, if you listened carefully, you'd have noted a hint of fear and admiration in my voice. I am just glad you're not one of those drill sergeants who carry a riding crop. I went to lend a hand, but you didn't need it. The intrusion I made was to reinforce to them that there are consequences in treating any officer the way they did.' His smile faded as he reverted to a serious matter. 'Are you actually entering a formal reprimand in their files?" He asked.
"I don't know your view on it, Admiral, but I thought I'd keep it informal, for the time being. By that, I mean that I've recorded the incident and tied various infractions to the appropriate names. I've got it all in this little baby.' She tapped her datapad. 'But, I thought I'd only enter the reprimand to the official files of those who screw up again or don't perform - and backdate it at the time. I was planning to abandon the record for those who do well over the next months. Of course, I would defer to your judgment." Her intonation was questioning.
"As a matter of fact, that is what I'd have recommended. For some of them, it's the first time in the field in four years. It is very tempting to let loose, once you’re outside the Academy walls. I think you made your point, and I bet none of them will really louse-up again." He responded with a smile.
Marie had never actually seen any of the combat rated deep space vessels until the instant they exited the jump point outside the Eta Bootis system on Wednesday, February 2, 2248. She'd been on several bridge simulators when she took the Academy Command Program and had studied technical drawings of all the different classes of ships. But, this was different. She was genuinely stunned at the size of the vessels in the fleet, all parked outside the Murphid system heliosphere. She counted twenty leviathans, presuming the most grandiose and imposing to be the Carriers. They sat in groups of ten, doubtlessly each nest a Task Force. From her port side perspective, she counted fifteen decks of portals, as they approached the Columbia, which according to the literature exceeded three hundred and fifty meters long and one hundred and fifty meters abeam. Two huge retractable ramps were extended from the sides like wings. These were probably used for launching and receiving the one hundred ten fighter craft held in the cavernous hangar bays and were likely matched by mates extending from the starboard side. Her graphite and gun metal gray motif, dotted by numerous gun placements, torpedo launch doors, missile launchers, hundreds of passive sensors, antennae, emitters, escape pods, hundreds of thruster packs, the IP engine, and the AMPE propulsion system, all combined in achieving a genuinely aggressive appearance. Marie remembered reading that, two five-terawatt fusion reactors supported by two one-hundred-megawatt fission reactors supplied power and particles for all the Carrier’s systems, including the artificial gravity generators, all three engines, weapons, and all support systems, lighting, and heating for the craft. Depending on the Carrier, six thousand to sixty-five hundred people resided on the ship, including nearly half of a full brigade of OESA Marines complete with aviation, heavy artillery, and armored ground support. All vessels employed a similar design theme, with a gap in the nose of decks two through four for weaponry installations, and a massive door in the bow of deck three or four for shuttle bays, depending on the class of ship.
Marie had been told that a full platoon of Marines and two percent of the Fleet's personnel were the latest models of Dr. Black's sentient artificially intelligent androids, though they would be imperceptible to anyone but a physician with the appropriate examination and diagnostic equipment.
To the right through the view window, Marie could see a vessel she was certain was a "sub," sitting just aft of the big Carrier. These were special little ships, usually operating in fully cloaked mode. They were never discussed or mentioned in Fleet descriptions. In fact, she was surprised this particular asset was visible. Looking about, she noted that both vessels of this class were uncloaked. Marie wondered if this was proper tactical protocol. The whole concept of this type of craft is its stealthy nature. It would take a considerable effort to achieve fully covert status. Each "sub" would need to take long circuitous routes to throw any watchers off their tails when it went dark.
In full daily field dress attire, Bryant stood in the bridge hatchway watching his personal craft's bridge team as th
ey docked with the Columbia. Commander Hurst was piloting the ship herself and did an impressive job. Contact with the behemoth was nearly undetectable. George filed away a mental memo about Hurst. She seemed like a good candidate for promotion. He moved to the hatchway. As Senior Officer, he was supposed to represent those aboard the vessel to the captain of the Columbia when the hatch opened.
"Vice Admiral George Bryant and a party of sixty-eight requesting permission to come aboard, Captain." He snapped to the man he recognized as Captain Steven Nichols.
Nichols snapped to attention and saluted. "Permission Granted, Admiral, and welcome aboard, sir.' Then looking over his right shoulder, he snapped. 'Boatswain.'
The three note call to order was played as the Admiral approached the docking bay receiving line. Two Flag-level Officers and more than forty Senior Officers presented themselves in full dress uniform, saluting the arriving Fleet Commander. Bryant returned the salutes, then took the time to meet each one and introduced Marie to all.
"Captain Nichols, can you have my pennant moved from my personal craft to the Columbia? She will be the flagship of the Fleet." He ordered after half an hour of introductions.
"Aye, Admiral," Nichols responded smartly.
"These are orders and itinerary for the rest of today. We need to get this moving, right away, since the day is already so far along." He said as he tapped his data pad transmitting a prepared message to each Commodore's personal data pad.
"I will want time with Commodore Stevens, Commodore Tonaka, Captain Tahu Moahu and Commander Olivia Hurst, before the upcoming events. I will need to see the Commodores immediately, while Moahu and Hurst stand by. Shall we say, fifteen minutes from now in my office? And Commodores, please have your subs begin covert maneuvering and go dark. We don't want them visible ever, if possible."
"Aye, Admiral." the two Flag Officers responded in chorus.
"Post these orders Fleet-wide, forthwith, please. I assume command of Boots Fleet under these directives, immediately.' He said as he tapped his pad to forward the command order placing him in charge of Boots to Nichols, Stevens, and Tonaka. 'Please note the orders and date in your logs. All security codes are rescinded, temporarily. We must move fast to reduce the time we are defenseless."
"Aye, sir." Nichols acknowledged with a nod.
George made his way to the Flag Bridge, introducing himself to those he contacted in the passageways. On the Flag Bridge, he made a point of quick introductions with the entire bridge crew and took extra time with Captain Nichols and Marine Brigadier Malcolm. Finally arriving at his expansive, glass-walled office, he placed his data pad to the desk console and tapped on the screen entering his password when prompted. In the blink of an eye, his orders and command codes were a matter of Boots Fleet records as all others were rescinded. He was now in operational command of the Fleet. George tapped off a quick note to all Fleet Headquarters advising that all authority rested with him only - temporarily.
"Commodore Thomas Stevens reporting as ordered, Admiral." Like Frick and Frack, Stevens was at attention just inside the doorway with Grace Tonaka at his side. He was very tall, and Grace was on the short side.
"Great, I want to speak with you both. Grab a seat. When I agreed to the Boots assignment, I had a couple of provisos. The first was to establish a new level of command within the Fleet. We will now operate with a Deputy Fleet Commander who I will issue level nine security codes to, for ninety-five percent of Fleet operations. Initially, the Deputy Fleet Commander will also run a Carrier Group. However, I will make a proposition to the C&C through Quadrant Command within six months. If accepted, it will create the need for two Task Force Commanders instead of the Deputy Fleet Commander. I looked over the personnel records from Theatre Five and Boots Fleet records and realized the two of you were pretty much, equally qualified for the initial position, but I can choose only one. So, I have elected to go with Tom. This is not a slight to you Grace. When the Task Force concept is a reality, you will get a promotion, too. Though I would like to keep you here, you are welcome to seek an elevated position elsewhere. I wouldn't blame you. You are qualified. But, I'd like you to stay, and you will be rewarded for it soon. In the meantime, you would typically report directly to me, but Tom would be your superior if I am unavailable. The Deputy Fleet Commander assignment will be filled by a Rear Admiral, so Tom will be promoted. When the Fleet changes to Task Force Commands, Tom will be reassigned to one Task Force and, Grace will be promoted to Rear Admiral and appointed to the other one. How do you feel about it, Grace?" Bryant held her gaze through the entire recital with only momentary glimpses at Stevens.
"Well sir, I was excited when I heard you were coming. I wanted to serve with you. And, as far as I knew there wasn't any promotion involved. Nothing's really changed. I'd like to stay on as a Group Commander. I am most interested to hear about the Task Force idea. What will each Task Force look like?" She asked.
"You're jumping ahead a little. I have a couple of additional meetings. I want you both in for them. When those issues have been resolved, we will discuss the Fleet's future.' Bryant was chuckling. 'Thanks for agreeing to stay Grace. I wanted to work with you, too. I have big plans, for the future, and several Boots personnel should be a part of them.' He turned to Commodore Stevens. 'Tom, are you still okay with the promotion and assignment? It's a big job, for the time being. You'll still have your Group, and you'll take on some of the Fleet Commanders portfolios."
"I'm all right, sir. I've got big shoulders. Besides, it's not forever, by the sounds of it." He said with a smile.
"That's great. So, you'll move your Flag to Grenada, Tom and Grace will transfer her pennant to Columbia. That way, if we split into Groups, there is Fleet Command on both teams. And no it's not forever - six to eight months. The need is there now, but we need time to show the higher-ups how to do it. I'll explain when we do the Task Force meeting. I have re-issued your authorization codes for your appropriate appointments.' George said as he tapped his pad. 'Right now, I need a Chief of Staff. Bill took his Chief and Adjutant with him. My Canada Group Chief is staying put. Grace, I believe you have a Captain Tahu Moahu serving in the Grenada Group?" Bryant asked.
"Yes, sir. He's Captain of the Cruiser Tanagra. He's an excellent officer. He hasn't got the tactical aptitude to Command a Group, but he's a wonderful Ship's Captain - knows people - follows orders – smart as a whip - has an immense capacity for work - earns loyalty. He's from 51 Pegasus D." She responded.
"Yes, I read good things in your evaluations, of him. Tom, I would like to take him from you, since he'd be your man, now. I will promote him to Commodore and make him my Chief of Staff. I have a suggestion for a replacement. In the nearly one month I was at Headquarters, I spent lots of time building a plan and going over personnel records. Almost two weeks ago, I came across the Moahu file and realized that he had the skills needed for a good Chief of Staff. So, I went on looking at possible replacements, for the Tanagra. In the end, it will be your decision, Tom. But, we have someone in the Fleet who has the credentials but has been passed over for promotion at Admiral Stephenson's insistence. His Admiral's Craft is commanded by an Officer who has held all the senior positions in all our Warship classes, except a Carrier. Bill did not want to move her because he liked having her in charge of his craft. I discussed it with him. He regrets it, knowing that he unintentionally slowed her career. He asked me to look after it. Anyway, I am recommending Olivia Hurst to replace Moahu. Take a look at her file. She has worked for Grace, here, and was under Captain Nichol's command, before. So, talk to them, too. In the end, I will accept your decision, but please take a good look. She deserves it." He finished.
"Tom, she is an outstanding Commander. Before Nichols took the Columbia, she was his exec on the Frigate Toronto. He spoke very highly of her. Of course, she ran Bill's vessel for the past three years so we all kind of lost track of her. But she really is good." Grace finished as Tom looked at his datapad, which he'd raised to eye level during Bry
ant's monolog.
"Don't be so polite, people. I won't let you push me around. But, consider it a done deal. Let's promote her to Captain, today. I'll write the request for promotion and reassignment when we break up." Stevens responded with a genuinely warm smile.
"Great. Now, let's get Captain Moahu in here." Bryant said.
Grace fetched him from the place he had occupied on the Bridge just outside the Fleet Commander's Office.
" Captain Tahu Moahu reporting as ordered, sir." The Captain was erect, at attention, and very formal.
"Relax Captain. Please take a seat. When rank is not a concern, how do you like to be referred to?" Bryant asked.
"Most people call me Moe in general conversation, sir." The Pegasian responded stiffly.
"Well, I think I will call you Moe, and you may call me George when we are in private. We will be working very closely together - I hope." George said with a casual smile.
"What do you mean, sir?" Moahu asked stiffly.
"Moe, I want to promote you and make you my Chief of Staff. The Chief's job is a tough one. In your case, you would also do the job of an Adjutant. So, you'd be busy. And, we'll be making a very intricate proposal to the Quadrant Three Commander and the C&C. Your team will lay all the groundwork for it. Are you interested?" The Admiral asked.
"I think so, sir. I am not really sure because it's all a little vague." Tahu responded.
"Okay then, I will try to give you a little more data. But first, I must reiterate to you all that meetings in the privacy of this office will be informal, after the initial contact. I am George to all of you, inside these walls.
An adjutant is like the communications officer for a Command. That position prepares all reports, posts all messages, and conveys all orders from the Commanding Officer. The Chief’s position is a lot bigger.
Anyway, the Fleet Commander has a large Staff at his disposal. They run Fleet accounting, payroll, legal, acquisition and purchasing, medical, security, intelligence, personnel, logistics, tactical, and a few other departments at the policy level. Each has a Manager and a Staff. The Chief of Staff runs that Staff for the Fleet Commander, through those Managers. In addition, you and the Staff will be responsible for preparing all the Fleet orders and ensuring they are carried out. It is your job to make sure that all orders and communications comply with OESA Rules and Regulations. Everyone in the Fleet is at your disposal to aid in carrying out my commands. The Fleet Commander's Chief of Staff is his right hand. When he speaks, he is speaking for the Commander. Counting your position, there are six hundred and sixty-five personnel in my Staff. It is a mirror of Theatre, Quadrant, and Headquarters Staffs. Except, they get larger at each more senior level. Headquarter's staff is over eleven thousand. You will also have to liaise your Staff with the new Deputy Fleet Command Staff and the Group Staffs. As far as the proposal goes that I spoke of, I cannot be too detailed, until you accept. But, I can say that the OESA is taxed beyond its limits, right now. No one seems to be able to come up with a cost-efficient means of increasing our capabilities. Each Fleet Commander has been tapped for ideas, but none seem practical so far. As soon as I was asked by Admiral Stephenson, I had an idea, but I need to make a case for it. You will help build that case. It will be a big undertaking with a short timeframe. You would be elevated in rank to Commodore. That carries a pay rate thirty percent higher than yours is, now. And, you will have a lot more authority and prestige. You will move to "Flag" quarters, on the Columbia and you'll have your own yeomen and stewards. If you prove to be as good as I believe you will be, I will bring you with me as I rise through the ranks. Each promotion for me would mean an elevation for you. At each level, the Staff is considerably larger than the one below. However, after a couple of years or one more increase, you'd no longer be eligible for a Field Command. You would always be administration with a maximum achievable rank of Vice Admiral." Bryant finished.
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