by Chris Hechtl
“I told you so,” Irma said with a shake of her head.
April looked up from her desk and glared. “I didn't need to hear that,” she growled.
“Sometimes you do so you'll remember it later. A little salt in the wound to remind you to listen to the voice of wisdom later,” Irma replied smugly as she swapped tablets.
April balled up a piece of paper and threw it at her. Irma batted it away with the tablet and giggled. “Should I run bases now?” she asked with a grin.
“Oh, shut up and get out of here,” April laughed.
~~~^~~~
Senator Russell looked over to Senator Falconi as he adjusted his tie. “Sometimes I wonder about our profession. We spend half the time raising money, another chunk stroking egos and cutting deals, and another chunk in committee listening to one person or another gas on about this or that. Sometimes about crap I could care less about,” the New Texan grumbled.
“I know. I envy our good president sometimes,” Senator Falconi said.
The duo had agreed to attend a dinner where people paid per plate to sit and eat with them. The people even paid to have photos or conversations with the senators. The money went into their campaign accounts or slush funds minus the half that the hosting company charged for their services of course.
“Oh? How so?” Russell asked as he finished adjusting the bolo tie.
“You'll note that Irons doesn't do any fundraising. None at all,” Senator Falconi said. He was used to wearing a tie, but the New Texan's insistence on his bolo tie was a bit extreme for his tastes. He still remembered at least one guy who he'd personally seen killed by a garrote that looked remarkably similar to the thing.
“He doesn't do the normal politics that we take for granted,” the ET senator stated as he smiled to his date for the evening. “He's going to regret it.”
Russell snorted. “Why? He's already top dog. He's sitting on the throne. He'll step down when he's ready. He's made it clear he's not interested in running for office …”
Senator Falconi cocked his head. “But what if he becomes too comfortable? What if he becomes a tyrant?” he asked, leaning over to the shorter man. He had to privately admit he'd laid that seed extremely well judging from the other man's dark expression.
“Then we'll have to find a way to stop him. There are checks and balances built into the system. We'll have to find them and get them ready,” the New Texan growled.
“The only way to get him out is if he steps down or we have a full galactic senate that can impeach him. And we're decades, possibly centuries away from a full senate,” Senator Falconi stated as they made their way to the head of the reception line.
“Yeah. I know. So, we've got to deal with the here and now,” Russell said, but then they had to turn their attention and conversation to inane pleasantries with the guests.
~~~^~~~
Admiral Irons had another change of heart about his position on the new ship designs and armor. If the enemy was going old school, they would need to do so too. Armor plating angles, the cowling concepts, and other things would help. The new armor formulas might help as well.
He frowned. One of the things he'd recently done after careful reflection on the trip to and from Bek was to simplify the Lemnos composite armor design.
By taking out the Xeno protections, it had cut cost and complexity by over 60 percent. He also didn't trust the Xeno protections anyway; there was no telling what the wraith had done to subtly tamper with the design. There was also no way of telling how effective it would be until they met an actual Xeno attack.
By making the changes, it had cut production time down to a quarter as well, not something to be displeased about. Weight and integration had been reduced and simplified as well. All of that amounted to major savings across the board in his opinion. Since no one had seen the Xenos in centuries, he was less worried about running into them at the moment.
He had, however, left the new crystal lattice for energy and kinetic deflection and absorption in place. He had also left the vacuole pockets of inert gases to help dissipate energy, reduce spalling, and improve structural integrity.
There were always tradeoffs however. He frowned and then called up a familiar A.I.
“Proteus, has anyone run the armor against the use of rail guns?”
“Only minor simulations, Admiral. It is nice to talk to you,” the A.I. stated.
“Let's see if we can change that,” Admiral Irons said, ignoring the pleasantry in the heat of the moment.
“Sir?”
“I want a complete SIM package based on what the enemy is currently fielding. Extrapolate 20 percent better penetration and accuracy. Worst case scenario. Have BuShips and the Design Board look into it.”
“Yes, sir.”
~~~^~~~
Doctor Kraft nodded as he read the latest report about the vaccination efforts. Using the data from Dancer's report, they had created specific treatment methods as well as vaccines to counter the Horathian bioweapons. They would be the first line of defense against the Horathians.
Already they were releasing the vaccines and stockpiling supplies and materials to make the cures. Shipments were scheduled to go out to Tau and Pi to be used or stockpiled strategically.
The entire process wasn't without its own headaches however. Helen Richards had departed ET, so she was unaware of the shenanigans there. A report had been released that some of the manufacturers on ET had sold them what turned out to be a placebo vaccine at best. Some of the supplies checked had turned out to be not even sterilized saline water. He wasn't happy about that and was working with the Bureau to perform a crackdown on the culprits.
It was a problem, but one among many. Some shortages in supplies had caused a panic in the markets. That had run up the supply costs, which had led to hoarding and some other issues. And then some negative press had come out saying that he and others had cooked up the idea in some conspiracy theory to get rich.
He shook his head. It was just another fun day at the office it seemed.
~~~^~~~
Jory got word about the renewed interest in his designs. He took heart in it. When he heard who had initiated it, he went to Admiral Irons with excitement.
Admiral Irons nodded to the commander. “Can I do something for you, Commander?”
“I heard you were interested in my recent designs, sir. I thought we could collaborate,” Jory said fighting from looking too eager.
Admiral Irons snorted. “I have to some degree. I'm looking at some of the changes to the armor, simplifying it.”
“Sir?” Jory asked, looking deflated.
“Not the overall design, though I'm not sure about the cowlings and your idea that they will make maintenance and repair easier. I am impressed with the simulations you've run. You've even done a couple 3D prints and real-world tests. That is impressive.”
“Yes, sir. It seemed to be the next step,” Jory stated. “They did well.”
“It is. And they did indeed, a mark above current designs. Unfortunately, we can't get too wrapped up in it. I'm not ready to commit yard space to a prototype at this time—not while Horath hasn't been beaten fully back. We can't afford a distraction.”
“I understand, sir,” Jory said, deflating a little.
Admiral Irons smiled slightly, recognizing the signs of disappointment. “Play with the old designs. Apply this to them,” he said as he pushed over a chip with the armor formulas. “See if you can tighten them up a little. Bring the nacelles in or create a package with all of them in one section in the stern. Try the cowling concept too. But I want engineering checks, structural integrity checks, and others not just checking for sensors, mass, maneuvering, and weapon windows. What happens if it takes a hit? Will a bad enough hit cripple it or will it be torn apart? That sort of thing.”
“Understood, sir,” Jory said as he pocketed the chip in his breast pocket.
“And, Commander,” the admiral said.
Jory frowned and cocked
his head as he considered those ideas. “Sir?”
“Don't stop dreaming, Jory. We'll get there. When we get some breathing room, we'll try it. Until then it's all paper studies and simulations to help refine the design. Just be patient.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Jory replied with a nod.
“Dismissed then.”
“Thank you, sir. Sorry to bother you,” Jory said as he made his way out.
Chapter 45
Eastern Front
Rear Admiral V'r'z'll considered her sharply limited options. She had to privately admit she was not happy about being told to sit tight. Her mandibles twitched, as did her truehands, but she forced them to be still as she listened to the staff report.
Being on a short leash sucked but it was her fault. She regretted leaving Garth every day. She had come to realize that she had had enough firepower to do the job, but her mounting losses had stunned her into retreating. It galled her to lose like that, even if the navy was playing it up like a draw.
She had followed orders and dispatched a prowler to scout Garth. It would be arriving in two weeks. She'd delayed it with the hopes of the Admiralty letting her go in after it but that hadn't happened. Instead she'd been told she would have to wait on a resupply convoy and relief forces from Pyrax to get to her and then reorganize before she was allowed back in.
All the while Dead Drop was open. She knew Admiral White was hesitating on moving in. Obviously, De Gaulte was in Garth, but for how much longer? Would he divide his force to try to cover both star systems and wait on reinforcements?
It was just as well that she was on a short leash. Though sometimes she wished she was in the Neochimp's saddle. She would have moved in on Dead Drop and picketed the star system, denying it to the enemy and forcing De Gaulte to come to her.
“The B-87R picket has reported the Firefly mission has arrived. They will be passing through shortly,” Commander Pizey reported.
“They made good time. It's a pity the Admiralty is only sending them to New Horizon and not to Finagle. I thought Shredder has New Horizon sown up?” T'rll asked.
“Finagle might be too close for comfort for the Admiralty to swallow. Captain Firefly only has a CruRon, two supply ships and a CEV with him. If he moved in and the Horathians found out, they'd almost certainly have to send a force in to drive him out. It would be a nice diversion, but it would force the Finagle jump line wide open. They'd have to picket the star system to keep him from coming back,” the Veraxin admiral stated as all eyes politely turned to her. “We want to close that jump line but only when the time is right.”
“And remember, we don't have intel on Finagle. We don't know what sort of picket is there. New Horizon was more or less unguarded so we could move in easily,” T'rll said.
Commander Pizey stiffened in indignation of the reminder.
“Agreed,” the Veraxin admiral stated, cutting the commander off before he could say anything. “I understand a mission is in the works to lock that star system down. It is why we're only getting a third of our promised reinforcements. The rest will have to lock Finagle down.”
“And go to Sigma and Pi,” Commander Pizey agreed with a nod.
“Exactly. The good news is Bek is producing finally, and we're going to be getting some of those ships. When is a big question. The rapids are still a major bottleneck.”
“So, we sit and wait while Second Fleet is on deck,” Chi'th stated.
“Pretty much. We've got a trap laid at the jump point. We have supplies coming but I'd like to see if we can augment that. I know this star system lacks water but look into other forms as well as rocks we can melt down,” the admiral stated.
“On it, ma'am,” the Veraxin quartermaster stated. “We've got a solid map of the star system. There are a lot of rocks but they are poor for metals. We'll see what is under the layers even if we have to blow them apart in the process.”
“Use energy weapons not missiles for target practice,” the admiral warned. The quartermaster signaled first-degree agreement.
“Are we still moving forward with the training exercises next week, ma'am?” Commander Pizey asked.
“Yes, but I want to reduce fuel consumption unless we can get a fresh supply here or elsewhere. Sims for half of it.” He nodded.
“Are they still considering the OTBP and Konohagakure missions, ma'am?” Lieutenant Lately asked.
The admiral swiveled an eyestalk to the lieutenant. She studied the woman for a moment and then signaled second-degree possibility mixed with third-degree insecurity. It was her species equivalent of a shrug.
“Not our problem unless they call on navy fire support,” Commander Pizey stated.
“Ah, yes, sir,” the lieutenant murmured with a nod. “I just thought the Ark Royal might want to know if there is some payback coming,” she stated.
“Oh, you can count on that,” the chief of staff growled. “It'll most likely come late, but better than never,” he said grimly. “I guess the same applies to us,” he said.
“Eventually, yes,” the admiral stated as she dismissed them.
~~~^~~~
Captain Jon Durning was still wondering how his ship had been so unlucky as to draw the short straw on the scouting assignment. It should have gone to Reprisal. After all, Captain Waters had been there before; she therefore knew the territory and could plan accordingly. Had the admiral listened? Of course not!
His Arboth class destroyer, the Denver Sullivan, was from the second squadron of home-built destroyers. He was quite proud of her, but he wished she wasn't so damn temperamental. They'd had their working-up exercises cut short when they'd deployed to Garth. But on the way there, the drive had picked up a harmonic, and they'd been forced to undergo repair in Garth's yard. Garth's yard had recently come back on line, and Captain Ozman looked like a hard charger. She had a lot of Gather Fleet ships to wade through, but she promised Denver's repairs were a relatively straight forward operation. They just had to open her up and get at the problem.
It had been a bit of a wait too, something he hadn't been thrilled about until he'd heard about the action in Dead Drop. A lot of ships there had gotten chewed up, most of them small fry like his ship. That and his time in one of the duchess's ski chalets had convinced him that playing hurry up and wait at the yard wasn't all that bad.
He'd thought his luck was good when they'd gotten clear and no more problems had been detected. He'd thought that had been really good when the enemy had shown up and his ship had survived while the yard had not. If they had come three weeks earlier, his butt would have been toast.
But, then Lady Luck had thrown him a curveball. That usually happened when you were riding her blessings; eventually, you were set up for a fall. No matter how much he tried to convince himself, he didn't see the Bf994 mission as a good one.
Which was why he was being conservative. He had planned to jump in one AU out from the center of the jump point zone, do a quick scan of the star system, and if the enemy was there, run like hell.
Unfortunately, that was when his time with Lady Luck's blessings had ended, and he'd had the first inklings that things were definitely not going to go off smoothly.
Like for instance the navigator's apologetic report that they had run over the mark and were on the outer edge of the jump zone, precisely where he didn't want to be.
He should have known things were going too smoothly, he thought, mentally kicking himself. Their hyper jumps weren't exactly precise with the mix of old Federation civilian, military grade gear as well as home brewed stuff. Asking for that sort of precision had been asking for trouble apparently.
Well, it might not matter. He had another few seconds as his ship stood down from jump and went to battle stations, then another agonizing ten seconds before his sensors could clear the dissipating energy of their hyper wake. That wasn't enough for the enemy to react surely. By the time some picket did see them, he'd get a scan and run like hell.
That was the plan at any rate, he
thought before a fresh thought about how no plan survives contact with the enemy surfaced within his mind and stubbornly refused to leave.
~~~^~~~
TF3.2's escorts and cruisers formed a sphere over one AU across around the jump point zone. They were far enough out to ensnare any ship that came in to the general area. Each ship was also running silent. Those with more advanced stealth systems were closer in.
The moment the Horathian destroyer jumped in all ships oriented on it. Whisker lasers communicated between the nearest ships. They maneuvered quickly, accelerating up to speed and then cutting their engines to run silent again before the hyper wake cleared the enemy's sensors.
Their objective was simple, to get in close enough to launch missiles.
While they did that, two ships between the fleet and the newcomer dropped their stealth and moved in slowly.
~~~^~~~
“Hyper wake clearing long-range sensors. One-million-kilometer perimeter cleared,” CIC reported. “We are receiving neutrino emissions in the star system. They are in the inner star system approximately one AU away from the parent star in a cluster,” the rating stated, voice going taut with tension.
“So, they did stick around,” the XO murmured. “Makes sense.”
The captain looked over to her. He didn't need to hear the obvious. Toni must be nervous he reflected. She wasn't the only one though.
“Two-million-kilometer perimeter cleared. No sign of a picket yet,” CIC reported.
“Did they forget us?” the XO asked.
The captain shook his head. “We could only hope to get that lucky. Helm, back us off. We need to get clear of the jump point but stay in the vicinity just in case they come after us. Something tells us we're not going to be here long.”