by Chris Hechtl
“How do you know that?” he asked suspiciously.
“I'm basing it on the admiral's schedule. His medical appointments have been pushed back twice so far. There may be a conflict with Captain Thornby however.”
“Nara?”
“She's one of the best surgeons and one of the few cleared in Antigua to perform the update.”
“He shouldn't need an update. He should just get the damn A.I. installed.” Admiral Irons pursed his lips. “Sorry, that didn't come out right.”
“Based on your vital signs you are frustrated. Understandable, Admiral, no offense taken.”
“Good.”
He still had the feeling that Yorgi was stalling and delaying. “Put me on his schedule. Get me his A.I. from Captain Sprite. Get her scheduled for it too. We'll do this together.”
“When do you want to do this? You are booked for the next two months.”
“Clear something. I want it done within the next two days. Enough is enough.”
“I can shift a few things around. Done. You have a two-hour window. However, I can't speak for the other parties involved, Admiral.”
“Damn it. It's like herding cats.”
“I heard that,” a familiar female voice replied in his ear. He blinked as Sprite appeared in holo form in front of him. “I may be female, but I am not an organic. Don't go there,” she teased.
He held his hands up. “I wasn't going to. But, now that you are here …”
“Protector filled me in. It's why I'm here. Yes, I can make myself available. I have an A.I. core online. He specified a dumb A.I. that is minimally intrusive. He has the basic security ones already.”
“What is this about medical being involved?”
“He has the very basic flag officer implants, not the ONI specific ones. They need to be installed, but he's rescheduled quite a few times.”
“No one likes going under the knife,” Admiral Irons grumbled. “And we have been busy.”
“Not too busy for this. He can read briefings while recovering just as easily as he can in his office,” Sprite stated. “And with an A.I. he can teach him or her to filter for him.”
“Agreed. So, I'm guessing this is a psych issue?”
“Considering he is Bekian quite possibly. But, it is a bit more than that, Admiral. It is highly invasive. You are a special case. You didn't mind sharing your body with us.”
“I did, but I got over it. I saw the advantages, and you were smart enough to not rub my nose in it.”
“Agreed,” Sprite said. Protector nodded.
“Get Nara or another qualified medic up here if he is feeling antsy. We'll use my nanites if necessary. Have the hardware, medics, and you on hand. Now we need the patient.”
“Fortunately, his schedule states he is going to be in the naval complex going over briefings for the next week,” Captain Sprite said.
“Perfect. Tomorrow?”
“Captain Thornby will be here by tomorrow evening if I get her to clear her schedule now.”
“Do it. Let's get this done and over with and him on his way,” the admiral growled.
“Aye aye, sir.”
“Inform Admiral Sienkov he's got a medical date. Let him know I'm the one pushing this so he can't balk. His frocking is only temporary. It is supposed to be less than one year.”
“Yes, sir. Message sent. I've informed his yeoman to clear that time period and to restructure his following days to allow him to recuperate. Not that it is that invasive.”
“No, but dealing with a juvenile A.I. can be trying. We'll see how he handles it.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
:::{)(}:::
Yorgi looked nervous as he looked on to Admiral Irons. The admiral was in a medical smock, not that he needed it. His nanites guaranteed he wouldn't be infectious to anyone.
“Okay, here is the deal. Nara is going to focus on the physical implant update. Sprite, Protector and I will upload your new A.I. and initialize it. Do you have a gender preference?”
“Um …?”
“The A.I. will make the final decision, but you two will be together so it's sort of like a marriage.”
“Female then,” Yorgi said. His attempt to delay with a pre-op had failed utterly. Like it or not he was going to get a visitor.
“Female. Human?” Admiral Irons asked.
Yorgi glanced at him and then gave a short choppy nod.
“Okay,” Captain Sprite said. “I've logged both preferences. This A.I. will not be as feisty as me since she will start as a dumb A.I. You already know she'll act as your security as well as your chief of staff. Trust me; the idea will grow on you in time, Admiral.”
“If you say so,” he muttered.
“Then let's begin,” Nara said. “I've got to catch the red eye in two hours to get back to the planet. We're at a delicate cycle with the Ssilli now …”
“If it's a problem we can …,” Yorgi sat up, but she firmly pressed him back down. “But …,” she put a finger to her lips. He sighed.
“No pain, Yorgi, I promise. I've been through it too,” Admiral Irons said.
The other admiral gulped as a mask descended over his face. He was asked to count backward as Admiral Irons jacked into his right arm. His vision fogged, and he was out.
:::{)(}:::
When Yorgi awoke an SBA was nearby checking his readings. The attendant smiled and finished what he was doing and then went to report that the admiral was awake.
“Fleet Admiral, my name is Midshipman Geni. I'm your A.I. chief of staff,” a soft contralto voice said in his ear. He blinked as an icon appeared on his HUD. His vision cleared quickly. He went from feeling lethargic to remarkably good in short order. He was surprised; he had been under anesthesia before and usually was groggy for days. A few times they had gotten the anti-nausea meds wrong and he'd spent entirely too much time paying tribute to the porcelain god.
But, things were different this time around. He appreciated that as he sat up slowly.
“You are okay. I've cleared your system. Swelling is low. There is no sign of infection. Vital signs are normal,” the A.I. reported, showing him his vital signs. He glanced at the machine next to his bed and saw they matched. He grunted.
“See? You can trust me.”
“I don't know you.”
“That makes two of us,” the A.I. replied. “I guess we've got time to get acquainted; you are scheduled to take the next convoy to Pyrax. It has just come in, sir.”
“Wonderful,” he grumbled as a doctor came over to check on him. “I take it I'm good?” he asked sourly.
“Any sign of problems, sir?” the doctor asked, checking the readings and then the tablet feed.
“No. Where are my clothes?”
“In the closet,” the doctor said, indicating the closet nearby. The admiral turned his head to it and then slowly slid his bare feet out from under the blankets. “You really should stay a night for observation. I can understand if you don't want to do so, but it is normal procedure,” the doctor said with a hint of reproach in his voice.
“Not happening. I've got work to do.”
“Can I help, Admiral? Commander Fletcher and Captain Sprite have kept me up-to-date with uploads,” Geni stated.
“No. Yes,” he grunted as he waddled to the bathroom. “Shut up for a minute,” he said as he used his heel to kick the door shut for privacy. He heard a muffled grunt and then the doctor retreated.
“What …? Oh,” the A.I. said as she cut herself off. “Privacy mode engaged,” she said.
He let out an internal sigh of approval as he unloaded his bladder. This was definitely going to take a lot of getting used to he thought. He wasn't certain he could forgive John for making him go through it.
Chapter 19
Dead Drop
“I've come to a decision, one I've delayed overlong. I've decided to send the fresh light cruisers to scout the B-97b star system and to possibly raid the enemy's rear as a delaying action. I know it's a risk,
” he said as he surveyed his staff and senior officers. “But it's one I'm willing to take,” Admiral De Gaulte stated quietly.
“Are you sure it's wise, sir? The enemy could show up at any time,” Commodore Rabideau warned.
So far they hadn't received any reinforcements from home. Garth had sent two freighters loaded with material to help them repair the fleet. They had been welcome surprises to the sailors, most of the equipment had been old, but it was appreciated, as were the fighters the duchess had sent as well. They might be ancient and had lacked pilots as well as supporting material, but they were doing something about that.
A single courier had arrived with news from home yesterday morning. There had been some mention of another convoy and singleton reinforcements, but nothing more substantial than a possible squadron of destroyers.
Which reinforced the concern about deploying some of the ships they had. Cyrano was very much aware of the idea of defeat in detail.
“I think they are licking their wounds like us. Which is why I'm going to send a ship and courier to B-97c as well.”
“Well, we are raiders; we can do it,” Berney said with a smile that didn't reach his eyes. Heads nodded around the table. He turned to the admiral. “I think we can do it, sir. At the least it will force them to defend against that vector.”
“If the captains play their cards right, they might be able to get in behind enemy lines without the enemy knowing how they did it,” Myron said hopefully.
“Let's not get our hopes up. They've got star charts just like we do. I'm cutting the orders to have them go no further than B-95a3. They are to hit only single ships and preferably at range.”
“What about their fighters?” Myron asked.
“No. All fighters are going to remain in Nimitz. We need to rebuild her wing.”
The TAO grimaced but then nodded as he made a note. The fleet carrier's original wing had been decimated in the fighting. Only two fighters had survived. The wing had started out at half strength from the beginning; half of her decks had been filled with assault shuttles to aide in the landings. Those shuttles had been sent groundside. The pilots had been pressed into service to man the fighters Dead Drop and Garth had scrounged up.
They weren't that great either, there was a reason they were flying shuttles and not fighters or bombers. It also left gaping holes in the support squadron. It meant transfer of cargo and personnel was spotty, and he could forget about in-flight refueling until he found replacements up to the task.
Fighters had been stripped from all of the ships, especially the new ships that had come in with Commodore Rabideau. Even with all of them in Nimitz, the fleet carrier wasn't up to one-third strength. They also lacked bombers, and what fighters they had were a hodge-podge of fighter classes, many of them in poor repair. Parts were scarce. Calling the fighter pilots from the ground rough was being over generous. They were still getting organized, and their skills were subpar. Many were technically unfit, being overweight or well past their prime in other ways. The admiral didn't care; he needed the warm bodies.
The two transports filled with Marines had been stripped of usable personnel and sent home with the remaining wounded. A few of the wounded were traumatized sailors. Dealing with that had been rough on everyone involved. There was some dark mutterings and suspicions that they were faking it. Assurances that they would be tested at home didn't alleviate the concerns.
Berney surveyed the group. He could see he wasn't the only one who hated to see the ships go, but any sort of delay on the enemy's attack was considered a good thing. They still had at least a week or so before the courier with news of the battle and retreat got to the empire.
He just wasn't certain if the ships would survive the experience or not.
“I'm also sending one of the couriers and one of the fresh destroyers to B-97c to picket the star system,” Admiral De Gaulte said as he indicated another pair of ships. Mouths opened in surprise at that announcement. “The courier will wait outside of the range of the other ship, more than an AU out from the jump point. They can remain in contact by whisker laser.”
Myron grimaced along with many of the others. As TAO he knew what the admiral was ordering. He was essentially offering up the DD as bait, but he couldn't help it. They needed the lead time and information and the courier didn't have the right long-range sensors to monitor the star system. The destroyer should be able to see a ship arriving and react in time to get the news to the courier and then jump herself. He nodded slowly.
“Good,” the admiral said, noting grudging approval in the faces and manner of his staff. “I want all four ships supplied and off within twenty-four hours. That shouldn't be a problem, correct?” he asked, turning to Berney.
“No, sir. All of the ships are in good condition,” he said as he checked the status boards. He nodded once. “They are topped off. The raiders could extend their range and time in the combat zone by vampiring whatever they capture. Should we issue orders to take prizes?”
“Only if they can do so without drawing down their crew too much. They can stash the ships and material. But, they are to use their discretion. The idea is to deny it to the enemy. Get in, get out without being seen is optimal.”
Myron nodded. “If they can do it and mask their ion trails in the process of retreating, they can possibly do it again.”
“Agreed.”
“We can't underestimate the enemy's sensors though, sir. They've got damn good sensors—full Federation tech,” Captain Lovejoy warned.
“Agreed. They'll just have to be careful and take that into account. Ambush scenarios will have to be very carefully constructed. They will need to take advantage of the star system's orbital bodies and conditions,” Admiral De Gaulte stated. Myron nodded and made a note to get the last sensor scans of each star system to the ships. “Captain, my last order concerns you.” Captain Lovejoy blinked. “We've cleaned your ships out, and Berney has poached your people. I'm going to send you back to Garth. If you can pick up a load, bring it here. If not, head on to the Empire for more support.”
“What about a partial load? I don't know how stingy the duchess will be, sir,” the captain warned.
“Use your best judgment. We need everything and anything.”
“Understood, sir.”
“Should we ship the shuttles back, sir?” Berney asked carefully.
“No. I want this done now. They are being used on the planet anyway,” the admiral stated.
Which was true enough, the chief of staff mused as he nodded. The maintenance people had stripped out the weapons and other gear and turned the assault shuttles into cargo haulers to move material up from the gravity well of the planet. They couldn't haul a lot, but they were a supplement to Dead Drop's limited number of shuttles.
Hopefully, this will work, Admiral De Gaulte thought. “Let's do this people,” he rumbled, clapping his hands together and then settling in to go over the details.
:::{)(}:::
Garth
Duchess Tucket was surprised by the arrival of another courier vessel from Dead Drop. When she ordered the ship to stop and receive her mail she was surprised when the order was countermanded.
She was further surprised when she put a call in to demand answers and was put through to Princess Catherine Ramichov.
“Your Majesty!” she said, eyes wide in surprise. “I didn't know you were on board!”
“I was sent back by Admiral De Gaulte to make certain the court knew of the grave danger it now faces,” Catherine said. “This is not the time to play games. We must band together like never before or the empire will fall.”
“So, it is that dangerous?” the duchess asked. She had to wait for the response. It was hard on her, quite possibly one of the hardest things she'd had to endure in years. The short nod from Catherine was almost missed.
“It is bad. Dead Drop and Admiral De Gaulte will do their best. You should send them anything that you can. They will need it.”
“
I'll see what else I can do. I already sent two freighters loaded with material to help,” the duchess murmured, looking away. She finally looked up and straightened her shoulders. “My condolences on your loss princess,” Duchess Tucket murmured.
Catherine stiffened ever so slightly, but then nodded in return when that message got to her. “My thanks, Duchess. I have had plenty of time to grieve. We must prepare for the war that is coming. I fear it is far harsher than we'd planned.”
“I see,” Glennis replied as smoothly as she could. Inwardly she cursed. They both knew it was bad, but pointing it out to her, was that really necessary? She kept her face impassive as they made some polite small talk. She knew there was no point offering to board the ship with the princess. The princess had no intention of stopping the little ship.
“I have been pressing for additional reinforcements. I don't know if my prayers will be answered,” Glennis stated.
Catherine kept her eyes from narrowing. She cocked her head as speculation ran through her head. Undoubtedly, the duchess had been alarmed by the losses. She probably had been stripping some of their reinforcements from the convoys for her own purposes. Her eyes dropped to the star system repeater plot near her right knee. She could see several dozen starships in the system, along with dozens of gunships. The little gunships wouldn't serve much use in the coming battle in Dead Drop. She frowned thoughtfully.
“I'll see what I can send on to Dead Drop. We only just got the shipyards back online here. It will be some time before we can make parts from the downloads we've received from home. We obviously can't make them to the same quality as the home system's industry,” the duchess droned on.
“Every little bit helps,” Catherine murmured. She came to a decision and pulled up a list. She scanned it once and then sent it to the duchess. “I'm sending you a list of urgently needed parts. Anything you can get to them will be appreciated. I will make certain you are compensated. Those parts could make the difference between the loss of Dead Drop and quite possibly Garth.”