by Chris Hechtl
He was relieved that they stuck to small talk initially. It was mostly abstract and vague. Neither one of them wanted to go into details. Oh, he knew she wanted him to go into details, but he couldn't and now knew better.
“Thanks for the heads-up by the way. Not that it did me much good,” she mock grumbled, punching him in the arm.
“Okay …” he said, rubbing his arm.
“I get why you couldn't spell it out for me. I know, competition, playing favorites, whatever,” she said, sounding annoyed. “You aren't forgiven but I get it.”
“Okay,” he said, glad he was dodging a bullet but ever aware that she probably had something up her sleeve. He didn't have long to wait to find out.
“I'm not saying you are off the hook. I'm just saying you owe me. And you can make a down payment on that.”
“Oh?” he asked suspiciously. “Just what do you think you can extract out of me?” he asked warily. “Not that I admit to owing you anything,” he added hastily.
April tried to get him to get her out of jury duty. “Oh, come on,” she teased, hugging him. “Just this once?”
“Yeah, no dear, sorry,” he said.
Her eyes glittered. “And why not?” her wheedling tone was noticeably absent.
“Because, that would be illegal. Besides, it could be good for you.”
“Oh?” she asked dubiously, arms crossed as she glowered at him.
He smiled innocently. “Do a story on the experience.” He didn't mention that there was a standard gag order on all trials while they were in session. If she got a long one, she wouldn't be able to say anything for a while. He personally doubted she'd get tapped. The moment she was seen either side would bounce her just because she was a reporter. “Not on how you tried to corrupt me into letting you out of it. It isn't up to me anyway.”
“Some powerful guy you are,” she mock pouted. He tickled her. She gasped and then retaliated, snickering as they play fought.
~~~^~~~
When the two organics engaged in sexual activities Protector maintained his vigilance but stepped down and filtered their audio commentary to the minimum. He turned the freed-up processors and memory to the paperwork piling up in the admiral's inbox. A judicious look noted that Captain Sprite had already organized it and filled in as many of the blanks as possible. He left them alone and then focused on correspondence.
There were staff in the Public Affairs Office who dealt with most of it. Captain Sprite also dealt with the higher-level material but she occasionally passed on something she thought the admiral should see. Some of it was cute or personal, so Protector scanned them for viruses and then left them alone.
Of course, security and ONI were monitoring things as well. Any crackpot's threats were filtered out and dealt with appropriately by the justice system. He scanned the rest and then turned to other duties. He checked on Proteus and then reluctantly opened up one processor net to the other A.I. to use to support his work while stepping in to monitor the admiral's internals while Proteus was engaged through the Wi-Fi.
~~~^~~~
April couldn't help but tease and toy with him later that evening as they relaxed in bed. She had no intention of letting him off the hook. “So, you can't get me out of it? Even after you left me out on the recent news? You know you owe me!” She pouted, propping herself up on one elbow to look at him.
He drowsily came around to full consciousness after her third poke and repeat of her demand. “Out of … are you still on that? Here I am worrying about the fleet, a plague, the senate, and what's for breakfast and you are on that?” he asked, catching on to her thread of conversation.
She sighed and flopped back to look at the ceiling.
“I'll take that as a yes,” he said in the ensuing silence. After a few moments, he poked her.
“Quit it. You are in the dog house here. You need to help me get out of this. I'm a busy woman. I can't be stuck in this. And how will it look for me to do it? And you to not help me get out of it?” she demanded.
“Stop being a brat and making a scene about it for one. Look, just get it done. It is annoying, but it has to be done. It is your civic duty as a member of the Federation.”
“Oh sure, play the patriotism card. See how far that gets you,” she mock growled.
“A capitalistic approach?” he asked.
“Irma said she wished it could go to homeless people or people out of work. They could use the money and shelter if it is a long trial. I mean, she's right. Food, shelter …,” she suggested. “We could do a trial period, start right away …,” she said suggestively, knowing it wouldn't get anywhere.
“It is open to both homeless people and unemployed people. It's not open to felons though. But every citizen has to participate as well. It is a small price for living in a democracy you know,” he said with a note of disapproval in his voice.
“Oh,” she said in a small voice, realizing she was sunk.
“The good news is, I doubt you'll be called, and there aren't a lot of suits going on. Most of the civil ones get settled out of court. The big ones are gearing up but will take years to sort out. And you can't be fired while serving on a jury. Knox knows he has to give you your old job back, with salary.”
“What about hardship?”
“You make a salary, a good one. It won't wash, babe,” he said as her index finger made circles on his chest. “Just think of it as doing research. Do a good story on it.”
“Harrumph,” she grumbled, clearly still in a pouting mood.
“Was that a good one or a bad one?” he asked with a mischievous smile.
“I'll let you know when I'm done. Just the idea of being stuck in a room full of people who don't want to be there is not my idea of a good time.” She made a face. She didn't like the idea of mixing it up with people who might have odd thoughts about bathing and dress and having to pretend to be nice to them …
Come to think of it, maybe it would be a good idea she thought, cutting herself off. She had worked as a field reporter for years dealing with far worse. Was she getting so stratified that she was losing touch? Perhaps. Maybe. That wouldn't do then. She'd lose her audience if she appeared too snooty and above them.
Not that she was willing to admit any of that. There was a point of pride in not getting what she wanted out of him. She'd needle him about it and then use it to bend him to her will on something else. Something that mattered more in the future if necessary.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that will work, lady, she thought.
“Huh. Are you sure?” he asked, teasing her slightly. She looked up at him questioningly. “You aren't the least little bit interested in being in on a murder trial? Seeing it from the inside?”
“There is a gag order,” she said.
“Ah, so you did your homework,” he said in approval.
She snorted and poked him. After a moment, she rolled over to poke his tummy and left side. She preferred to sleep on his left side but had somehow ended up on his right in the aftermath of their latest lovemaking.
“Hey,” he protested, catching her finger with his hand. “Careful, that's where this started, remember?”
They playfully played tug-of-war with her finger before she kissed him and then when that didn't work, nipped him to distract him long enough to retrieve her finger.
“Owe! You play rough!” he protested as she climbed back on top of him to look down at him. She grinned at him and snapped her teeth.
“Serves you right for not getting me out of it,” she mock pouted, claws toying with his chest.
“Oh?” he demanded as his hands came up from behind her. His fingers dug into her sides to tickle her into a better mood. She writhed and complained, fighting it before his relentless assault rendered her into a fit of giggles and then peals of shrieking laughter as she finally surrendered.
“You are going to pay for that!” she said ominously, curling her fingers into claws as her eyes glittered.
He grinned at her. “
Here we go again,” he got out before she shut him up with a kiss.
Chapter 15
Second Fleet
The Second Fleet picket at the B-97c jump point went briefly to high alert when two unknown ships jumped into the Dd01ns star system. Their tension eased suddenly when IFFs came from the two ships. Kittyhawk and her destroyer escort had arrived.
~~~^~~~
Commander Nax, captain of the Kittyhawk, looked on to the fleet. His pleasure at beating out the other ships to the star system and winning their little side bet was fading quickly. They'd be along in a day or so, but that hardly mattered. Apparently, something had happened, something to delay the advance. He looked over to the communication's section.
“We're getting an update from the picket ships now, sir. Orders are on top. We are to rendezvous with the fleet,” the rating reported.
“Nav, plot us a course. Helm execute when you are ready. Comm, coordinate with Captain V'x'ss.”
A series of aye aye, sir, and a verbal repeat of his orders came from the three individuals. Then the comm tech frowned. “Sir, we have encrypted material for you to read,” the tech said brows knit in concern.
“I've got it too,” Orville stated from his place at the plot board. “Oh. Damn,” he said out loud.
The captain's eyes cut to the A.I. “I take it …,” he cut himself off with a frown. He rose and waved to an ensign. “You have the bridge. I'll be in my office,” he said as he left the compartment to read the download. He also intended to give Orville a bit of a piece of his mind for that outburst. No doubt it was already winging its way through the ship. That wasn't like the A.I. to do something like that.
~~~^~~~
Commodore Trajan Vargess was almost gleeful at the information of the arrival of Kittyhawk. Apparently, they'd made good time and had even beat out the forces in the pipeline. Hopefully, the others would be along shortly.
He knew that Kittyhawk had some of the most experienced pilots in the carrier fleet. Many were overdue for promotion and new assignments. A part of him hated what he was doing to Commander Wilder, but it wasn't a big part. Right alongside it was that glee, and on the other side was just a little sympathetic malice at her eventual gnashing teeth. She's a big girl, she'll deal with it, he thought as he pulled up Kittyhawk's last known roster and began to issue orders based on his plans.
~~~^~~~
Warrant Officer Hurranna heard something was up, but she was too busy checking in with her pilots to do much about it. She looked over to Commander Wilder. Jerrica was a bit long to CAG on the CEV; she was pretty sure the human woman would move on to a bigger ship when they got back to the land of the free. But until then Jerrica's career was stalled.
She watched as the Alert 5 fighters were launched and then another pair were brought on deck to replace them. The two fighters would patrol around the ships as they moved into the inner star system. With the fleet securing the anchorage, it wasn't technically necessary, but the pilots needed the stick time after a long time in hyper. Besides, it was operational procedure to cover the ships.
Even if the assignment was dull, she mused.
“Got a moment?” a familiar voice asked from behind her. She turned and smiled and flicked her ears at the commander. “For you, ma'am, any time,” she said.
“Walk with me,” the commander ordered in a solemn voice. Hurranna lifted one eyebrow but dutifully fell in line with the woman. She had to practically skip to keep up with the other woman's longer legs though.
“We're losing Jane. She and most of her squadron are going over to the fleet carriers. We're also losing our bombers.”
“What gives, ma'am?”
Jerrica sent her a download as they walked. Hurranna took a moment to open it and then read it. It was brief. She didn't like it, and her ears went back as she read the part about Kittyhawk's wing being torn apart.
“So, they get their asses chewed and we get to fill in the blanks? That sucks, ma'am. We're a damn good wing,” she grumbled.
“I know but it is out of my hands. There is more. You are going to be transferred too. Your squadron is getting torn up. Anyone with seniority is going to be put up for squadron command. But, there is a problem since you are a warrant and some of the navy fliers on the other carriers, not to mention some brass, aren't thrilled about the idea.”
“Oh.”
“And since all of your pilots are noncommissioned or warrants, that is also an issue apparently.”
Hurranna turned to her. “Their problem, ma'am. We're here to fly and fight. Tell them to get over it and put their big-boy britches on and tell them to try to keep up.”
Jerrica stared at her and then grinned. “I'll tell them that. And you stay safe.”
“I didn't join up to stay safe, ma'am. But I'll do my best to come back. I always do.”
“Good. You do that then,” the CAG said as she went into her office. “Dismissed.”
~~~^~~~
First Lieutenant Jane Darling winced as her orders came in officially. Jerrica had given her the heads-up. She had done the same for the other squadron commanders but she didn't have to like it. Kittyhawk had been her home for a long time. The ship had the most experienced pilots though, and the other carriers needed them.
She had known eventually they'd be kicked out of the nest. At least she and her squadron were mostly going to be held together and were destined for a carrier rather than an orbital fortress that many pilots secretly feared or being grounded, which was infinitely worse.
She knew a few of the pilots were excited while others were pissed. Scuttlebutt was already making the rounds about some of the plane captains and flight crew going over as well since they knew the birds. That meant the entire carrier was going to be shook up and hung out to dry.
“At least they are keeping us in our planes,” she muttered. She had already been hit with requests for details and reassurances that some of the pilots weren't going to be dumped in a shuttle or bomber.
“I bet the skipper is pissed he won that bet,” she said with a shake of her head as Hurranna entered the pilot's ready room.
Hurranna slowed up and then flicked her ears as she caught on. “You think this wouldn't have happened if we'd gotten here last? They'd hit the others first?”
“Something like that. I don't envy the CAG though. She's stuck.”
“I know,” Hurranna said. “It doesn't seem fair.”
“But its orders,” Jane said. “When do you ship out?”
“Tomorrow. You?”
“The day after. To a damn battle cruiser, not even a carrier.”
Hurranna shook her head in sympathy.
“Think we've got time to put the squadron through their paces? Get some rust blown off so we don't look like complete amateurs when we get there?” Hurranna asked.
Jane slowly smiled. “Sounds good to me. It'll also keep our people from getting too excited and all hot and bothered about the transfers. I'll run it past the CAG and get back to you,” she said as she put a text message in through her implants.
~~~^~~~
Wilbur sent an exchange of data to Orville and then entered a virtual conference with the other A.I.
“So, it is confirmed? The flight crews too?”
“Yes. We're getting their dregs mostly. The CAG is the only pilot not being reassigned to another ship. It almost seems unfair to her,” Orville stated.
“She and the captain have been here the longest. At least, for organics that is,” Wilbur agreed.
“Longer than either of us. Most likely we will be sent back to Protodon without ever seeing more combat. The current plan is to send CEVs to ferry craft to the main line units.”
“I bet the CAG is just eating that up. First, they take her command away from her and then they send her packing to pick up a fresh load of pups to break in. By the time she does and we get back here, they'll take them away from her, and we'll start the process all over again,” Wilbur stated.
“Right way, wrong
way, navy way. Whatever happens we'll make it work.”
“It still doesn't seem right,” Wilbur stated before he cut the channel.
~~~^~~~
In order to blow off steam, keep up his PT forms and to set a good example, Admiral White worked out regularly. He usually stuck to a routine, one day in the weight room, another jogging and then boxing or on the matt if he was feeling particularly vicious.
Most of the staff were smart enough to avoid him on boxing day. Those he did encounter laughingly waved off his invitations to spar. “You beat us up enough in the conference room, sir. Pass,” Kyle said with a shake of his head.
“I'm glad you are working out, Commander,” the admiral said, turning to the orange Neocat on the treadmill. Garfield was huffing and puffing to music through his implants.
“Eh?” the cat asked, swiveling an ear and then turning his head. He lost his focus though and went down. He flopped off the treadmill to the deck and then gasped theatrically.
The admiral snorted. “I spoke too soon,” he said with a shake of his head as Kyle grinned at him and rolled his eyes.
“He's such a ham,” Kelly murmured from her seat on the bench press.
“That he is. What do you say, Commander? Want to box?” the admiral asked with a grin.
Garfield sat up and then rolled to his feet with a groan. He thrashed his tail as he massaged his right leg. “I don't think so, sir. You'd mostly unload on air, and I'd be boxing something near and dear to your heart,” the Neocat said, pretending to box a hanging bag.
That earned a chuckle and laugh from the compartment. The admiral snorted and then laughed along with them. “Touché,” he muttered with a shake of his head.
“If that invite is still good, I might take it up, sir,” Kelly said as she laid back. Her spotter was a Marine silverback. She shook her arms out and then gripped the barbell. “Let me finish this set,” the spook offered.
The Neochimp watched her lift the two-hundred-kilo weight and pump it easily. “Um, on second thought …,” he drawled, scratching his head. That earned another chuckle from the group.