by Chris Hechtl
“True. But that means we need to bring other worlds up. Like our own,” Chuck pointed out. “We need ansible coverage there. I remember you saying that your world didn't get nearly the same coverage during their recent medical drama,” he said.
Asif cocked his head thoughtfully and then nodded. “True. If they play it up though, then everyone will have their hands out.” He didn't bother to mention the budget item he'd gotten through for emergency funding to help his world. He was quite proud of it.
“Just so long as we're first. Or, in this case, second,” Chuck said with a grimace and nod to the video screen.
“Agreed. I think we need to look into the voting blocs again. Things are starting to firm up but if we get a lump of new players from Tau and Pi, that could change,” Asif stated.
“I know. You don't have to remind me. We can't delay Tir Na Nog too long or they'll take offense and it'll undermine attempts to draw them into our camp,” Chuck said with a sigh.
“Yeah, there is that,” his colleague said as they watched a media drone try to cover the high-pressure rescue at sea. “Turn it off, I'm getting seasick just watching it,” he grumbled, turning away.
Chuck snorted and picked at his own lunch but silently flicked a finger to one of his staff members to change the channel.
~~~^~~~
“Lucky Charms, you've got another sea rescue coming up. How are you on fuel?” HQ asked.
“We are …,” Mary checked the status. “Fifty-one minutes from Bingo,” she reported. She had a thread of concern about the engines. The transition from flight mode to hover was hard on them. So were periods of long hovers and then the transition to flight mode followed by the speed-up to get clear of the edge of the storm. Their constant flights were putting a strain on the transmission. It had generated a lot of heat in the brief fight.
Oil and thermal transfer technology helped to alleviate some of the stress but not all of it the crew knew. No engineering system was perfect, so the craft was tagged for an inspection when she got back to base.
“Roger that. You are getting a stand-down after this, orders. Your crew is well past their flight allowance time so don't argue or try to get on another bird.”
Bret frowned. “Wasn't going to,” he said when Mary looked over to him.
“By the way, you were on the media. You made Federation news so good job. You'll probably have to do the dog and pony circuit, but that's for later.”
“Joy,” Bret muttered as he wrestled with the stick to keep the bird on course.
~~~^~~~
“Shit, shower, and shave people, though for some not necessarily in that order,” Bret said as they finished the post flight checks and paperwork. He tried to pretend he couldn't see the entire event was being covered by the media. He knew that Mary had been muttering darkly about her helmet mussing her hair up. Both boys in the back were excited about getting on camera.
He could care less. He tucked his helmet under his arm as he exited the bird. Ground crew personnel had already wheeled the bird out of the storm and into the hangar. He had to duck under the scaffolding around it to check the exterior of the bird. The scaffolding allowed the mechanics easy access to the engines and electronics. Engines, rotors, and the transmission were the number one checks.
“If you don't mind, I'll throw in food and a nap in that mix too,” Ticker said. “Smile for the birdies,” he said, waving. Bret frowned until he felt Ticker physically turn him to face the camera. He smiled demurringly, waved sheepishly, and then brushed the hoist man's arm off and kept going.
“What's the hurry?”
“We've been grounded for the storm. That means we have ten hours of downtime coming to us. I plan to spend as much of it as I can, sleeping in my rack,” Bret said, clearly tired.
Mary snorted but followed. After a moment, Ticker and Shiftless did as well.
~~~^~~~
As the team slept, the first hurricane hit with full force. The media coverage shifted to views inside the storm. Talking weather persons were on all channels while daring reporters and camera crews tried to get the best shots they could.
Even before the outer eye wall, the worst part of the storm, had passed, the SAR teams were back in business. The SAR teams moved in despite the winds and danger, picking up the fallen and dropping search parties to look for survivors as the storm dropped in category level as it expended its energy on the coast. It worked its way up the coast slowly, though, defiantly still pounding at whatever it could get into range of. The media coverage of the aftermath began with talk of rebuilding not far behind.
~~~^~~~
April approved the stream of ground rescue coverage as it came in. She didn't get any sleep for days as she arranged for some of the coverage to go live while cherry-picking some of the best scenes to be archived for later discussion. She had several of her reporters embedded with a SAR team or two, while others were at refugee centers, the capital, and strategically located throughout the target zone.
She had wisely assigned the reporters to follow a mostly Neo unit. Neos like cats and dogs used their better senses to help find and rescue people. Their success rate made for great video.
“Take that GSN,” she murmured in satisfaction.
~~~^~~~
The hurricane influenced the weather systems inland, sending the occasional errant thunderstorm over the mountains and off to dump its load there. Lightning sparked forest fires which burned out of control in forests far away from the nearest town. The thunderstorms that sparked the blaze didn't dump enough rain to put it out unfortunately. Since all SAR was on duty on the hurricane the fires were left to grow out of control.
Those same fires became a threat to Wwee Gidong of Gidong Enterprises way of life. The lumber, paper, and media mogul owned vast stretches of forests, and when he was informed of the fires, he immediately demanded an accounting from the government.
Governor Randall wasn't happy when Daffyd put the call through to him. He listened to Wwee complain and then shrugged it off. “Look, I know it sucks. I know. We don't have the assets in the area to do anything at this time,” he said, checking the status board.
Daffyd made a clear wince in front of him. He glanced up to his chief of staff and then away.
“Well, that's unacceptable!”
“We have to save people first, then trees,” Jeff explained patiently. He decided not to rub salt in the wound and reminding the man that he'd gone to court and argued that his lands were private and therefore exempt from sustainable farming initiatives the government was putting forth.
When he hung up abruptly, Wwee sat back in his chair and fumed. He loved those forests and not just because of the raw materials in there. He also loved to hunt and fish with his family in them, and the very idea of seeing them turned to ash bothered the holy hell out of him.
“Why the hell did I ever back that man?” he snarled, angry. “One way or another, I'll make him pay for this,” he said, as he stared out the window of his log cabin to the smoke on the horizon. It threatened to block out the sun for kilometers around. The fires weren't coming his way but that could change in an instant.
“Marsha?! Nazin! Find me someone in media. Get me Jack. Tell him I want to take the gloves off with the government's handling of the hurricane as well as the fires! Find me some reporters to show homes being burned and the government not doing anything!”
“I'll show him,” he muttered as his assistants scurried into the room to do his bidding.
~~~^~~~
The following morning Jeff winced when Daffyd silently set a folded newspaper on the bloater in front of him. “What's this?” he asked, reading the headline. “Fires rage out of control. Corruption in the fire department …,” he said softly, and then his eyes darted up to the publisher's name.
“Gideon Press. Gidong's pet newsies. Joy,” he muttered with a shake of his head.
“We've got to do something. His holdings are at stake, sir.”
“We can't shift
anything off the SAR. I won't do that to save a single pine cone of his,” Jeff replied firmly. “But … order any fire departments in the area to help if they have assets available. I know Fire and Rescue is busy but see if you can get someone to put a quick word in on their end to make it official.”
“Yes, sir. It's a token effort at best.”
“It is only a sop to one man's ego until we can get the assets freed up to do more. Don't worry about it.”
“The man controls 10 percent of the planet's media. I'm worried. You should be too, sir. We don't need or want him as an enemy.”
“I know. But we aren't going to cut off our nose to spite our face, Daffyd! How would it look if we shifted SAR off to save his trees? The man refused to allow us to set up fire watch towers, he refused to put them up himself, he refused to help fund fire and rescue in the area, he called it a waste of time and resources! Well, now he's paying the piper, isn't he?”
“Yes, sir. Not that he cares. He's going to hold our feet to the fire over this one,” Daffyd warned.
“Let him try. Make sure you tell a few friendly newsies about what I said, in confidence of course. Remind them about all that. He'll be even more pissed, but if he wants to play, well, he'll get eaten alive.”
“I don't know. He's slippery. But it'll definitely make life interesting,” Daffyd said dubiously as he left the room.
Chapter 5
Airea 3
Six months after departing the Trajin cluster, an explosion of energy and light announced the arrival of the courier ship Dancer at the heliopause of Airea 3. The little ship's crew broadcast her IFF. When she was cleared by the two frigates and defenses picketing the jump point, she moved into the star system, transmitting her clearances to Airea 3's government and sending a stream of data to the ansible.
Two days later the ship was close enough to the ansible platform to fully upload her report to it. The ansible platform had been transmitting the information as it came in, but with the full logs, its buffers were full.
With their duty complete, the Veraxin captain requested liberty on the planet for her weary crew. "We have been in this tiny ship for twenty standard months, six days, and nine hours. That has to be something of a record. Can we please, pretty please get off now?"
A shuttle was dispatched from the small but growing trade station in orbit of the planet to take the crew off for some well-deserved liberty.
~~~^~~~
Antigua:
An emergency cabinet meeting was called when the news reached Antigua through the ansible. For once Admiral Irons didn't allow the staff to attend virtually from wherever they were in the star system if they were mobile. It meant a delay as they rearranged their schedules and flew to the Executive Station also known as White Station, but so be it. The delay allowed more of Dancer's log to be uploaded anyway; he transmitted the relevant portions to the cabinet secretaries in a series of highly encrypted and classified transmissions. Only Admiral Sienkov got the full and raw data as it streamed in. Admiral Irons also knew that a lot of questions would be raised in the media as they took note of the unusual call for attendance. For the moment, he had slapped a high security classification on everything. Let them speculate about the war front and spin it however they please. Liobat would just rightfully deny it and leave them guessing.
"It's got to be them. It has got to be," Yorgi said as the cabinet settled down in the wardroom around the large table. "It's the only thing that fits. A ship that is clean? A carrier of this plague? But, it spreads the disease that widespread across species? But, it doesn't affect humans? There are just too many coincidences. This is enemy action," he said with a snarl as he stabbed his index finger into the tabletop meaningfully.
"Do we have anything to confirm that with intelligence?" Broken Antenna asked, looking at the admiral.
"I can check," Yorgi said as a soft sound made him stop. He turned to the secretary of state. She was still a bit stunned by the news but rallying.
"Oh my gods," Moira said, shaking her head, eyes sick with dread. "This has been confirmed?"
"Like the courier would lie?" Broken Antenna demanded, waggling her one good antenna and mandibles.
Moira blinked, and then her eyes narrowed at that sarcastic response from the T'clock. It was the final tonic she needed to wake her out of the nightmare her mind had been trapped in.
"Sorry, but you had that coming. Yes, it has been confirmed," the T'clock stated.
The secretary of state opened her mouth with her own tart rejoinder but closed it after a moment. She nodded once and then turned to look expectantly at the doctor.
"We've sent everything to the medics in ET and Pyrax," Doctor Kraft stated. "I'd like the courier to go to ET with the full download, but I understand that the medics in Airea 3 are already going over things while the data is being transmitted via the ansible. I understand Doctor Taylor couldn't get samples, but I'd still like them to get the details direct from the courier's databases."
"Bastards," Yorgi snarled, clenching his fists, still furious over the situation.
"To do this they aren't human. I'm sorry," George Custard shook his head. "They deserve no mercy."
"Not even their children?" T'rel'n, the Veraxin treasurer demanded. "Surely, they haven't had a chance to do this and shouldn't be punished for the sins of their parents, right?"
"You know what I mean," the agriculture secretary said crossly.
"We saw a taste of this in ET, so technically, we shouldn't be surprised," Doctor Kraft said slowly. All eyes turned to him. "It is appalling and horrifying that anyone would consider it though."
"Prometheus's tactical officer is correct though; it is a cheap and effective method to conquer a region, at the least destabilize it. It makes you wonder about the timing. Did they do it to throw us off? Or because they lack the resources to conquer those areas?" Yorgi asked, turning a significant look to Admiral Irons.
"They are stymied by us. They aren't so much interested in conquest now as destroying everything. Burning it all down just like the Xenos," George said.
"I'll take exception to that. We've confirmed that this plague, whatever it is, hasn't targeted humans specifically," Doctor Kraft warned.
"So?" George demanded.
Yorgi put his hand out to cut them off. "If this is in all of Tau sector, do we have anything about it being in Pi or the other sectors?" he asked, turning to Doctor Kraft.
"No. Nothing," the doctor said, shaking his head. "I checked with the listed symptoms with the outbreaks on Syntia's World; they don't match there either. I thought I'd head that off before someone asked," he said, looking around the room.
"Good to know," Admiral Irons said with a nod.
"We need to get in and stop them. Stop Horath permanently. Nova bomb them since we can't get in easily without catastrophic losses," Secretary Martindale said. "Do whatever it takes to end this," the Neochimp secretary of energy said darkly, looking from one naval officer to the other.
"This is inexcusable. Genocide on such scale," Moira was clearly distressed.
"Can we even get in to bomb them?" Broken Antenna asked.
"Should we stoop to their level?" Doctor Kraft asked carefully. He was shocked and a bit dismayed about the idea of nova bombing Horath but not surprised. And if any population deserved it, then it was that one he reminded himself. But, as a doctor, the idea of such destruction and death was anathema to his entire core.
"Hell yes, if it stops something like this!" Yorgi snarled, clenching and unclenching his fists in rage.
"I know what you are feeling, honestly I do, Yorgi, all of you," Admiral Irons said as he looked around the room. "I went through it during the Xeno War and on ET," Admiral Irons said. "But, bombing Horath won't stop what is happening in Tau and possible elsewhere now. It is revenge, and yes, it is punishment."
"Agreed. It is like locking the barn doors after the horses and branacks have escaped," George said with a sniff.
"Exactly. It would giv
e me a sense of satisfaction I admit, but that's my dark side," Admiral Irons said. "And it would stop them from pulling anything else out of their labs there in Horath."
"Cut the head off the snake," Yorgi said, looking directly at the admiral.
"For the moment, let's table that discussion and do as you suggested a moment ago, Admiral, work on the here and now," Doctor Kraft said. "What can we do to help? Obviously, we need hospital ships to get in there fast. We also need to interdict any shipping that comes out of Tau. They'll have to be quarantined and thoroughly vetted."
"Agreed," Admiral Irons said with a nod. "We're going to need to send every available hospital ship in to Tau. They'll need escorts though," he said with a grimace.
"Not really a good time to pull support away from the war fronts," Yorgi sighed. "But, we can't send them in bare ass naked I know," he said.
"I'll put a call in to crash develop some additional hospital ships. We'll farm it out to the civilian yards too," Admiral Irons said, glancing at his HUD to Protector. The A.I. nodded and made a note.
"That will take time. Every moment we wait means the plague spreads. People are people; they run from something like this. When they do, they inevitably spread it further and faster. By the time we get in, it could get into Upsilon or even here," Doctor Kraft said.
"Fire break," Dreams of Tomorrow, the Gashg secretary of science and technology, said. All eyes turned to her. "The commodore needs to get out ahead and cut off the ship or ships spreading the plague. Cut them off and quarantine those already exposed, not work from behind and play catchup."
"I think we can trust the commodore to figure that part out," Admiral Irons said. He turned to the doctor. "We can and will send Good Hope and Florence Nightingale to them as soon as possible. We'll strip the sector of all hospital ships for the moment; we can always build more. I'll have orders issued for their movement as well as any hospital ships currently in the pipeline to get to Tau stat."