by Chris Hechtl
“And I don't want the bill for appropriations tied up in court,” Avery agreed with a grimace.
“Me neither,” Russell admitted. “That A.I. lady helped me out with the beef issue. I don't want that turning around and biting me in the ass.”
“Or the hand. Your supporters would be pissed,” Cheyenne said in malicious amusement, sipping from her straw.
He flicked ash from his cigar tip then took a puff. “True. Too true,” he admitted.
“So, we have to tread carefully. We can all agree on that.”
“And temper our people from doing or saying anything rash,” Russell stated.
“Also true. We need a series of plans. How to deal with them, how to deal with Irons if he doesn't come back, and what to do when he does. He's obviously going to need to make up some ground. How is he going to do that?”
“Back up a minute. If he doesn't come back, how do we work with Sema? And does Sienkov stay a fleet admiral? How is that supposed to work?”
“I think we need to make some notes and have our respective staffs start asking questions,” Avery said slowly.
“And watch the media, they too might be asking them now,” Russell said. The other two Senators nodded.
“We can work this by remaining calm and confident, get some points there, plus try to stick with a business as usual. The entire galaxy shouldn't come to a stop because the admiral went gallivanting off to save his friend.”
“It does show him as reckless, doesn't it?” Cheyenne asked slowly.
“It does. We can play that a little with an undercurrent. But do we really want to come out against him?”
“Not until we know one way or another if he's coming back and if he'll survive the political fallout afterwards,” Avery stated firmly.
:::{)(}:::
“This is insane.”
“I know,” Jeff said with a shake of his head. “My staff is getting swamped with calls and we're locals, not involved directly with the Federation government. But everyone wants a comment.”
“I see that. I think … I …,” his wife paused. He looked expectantly at her. “Okay, don't take this the wrong way,” she finally started to say.
“But you think I made a strategic mistake staying put over taking the vice presidency when it was offered to me?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow skyward.
She nodded quietly.
“We discussed it. We didn't want the girls exposed to that. We didn't want to burn out too quickly,” he said quietly.
“I know. It's a case of seeing it in hindsight. If anything happens to him Secretary Sema takes over.”
“I know,” he replied. “Will that be so bad?”
“The problem, Jeff, is that she's ambitious.”
“And we aren't?” he chuckled.
“We're different. Everyone knows she wants the presidency. Now she effectively has it. It is one thing to have it in the hands of someone like Irons who doesn't want the job but sees his duty to take it and perform its functions until he can rebuild the galactic government and step down. But she's …”
“A political animal. And politicians rarely give up power so easily.”
His wife nodded again. He could see she was troubled by the idea. He went over and took her in his arms and hugged her for a moment. “It'll be okay,” he murmured.
“But what if it won't be? What if she draws it out? We don't know how long it will take to set up the Federation properly. Irons had a different tool box to play with than she does. She …”
“Shh,” he murmured, rubbing his back and hugging her until her protests quieted. He felt her heave a sigh and then sighed himself, nuzzling her hair. “For the moment, it's out of our hands. The best we can do is try to endure. But yeah, when he gets back,”
She pushed against him until he loosened his grip so she could look at him with troubled eyes. “I said when, not if. I have faith in John,” he said firmly. She nodded. “I'll reconsider the future. We will,” he corrected himself. “Deal?”
“Deal,” she murmured, hugging him again.
:::{)(}:::
While Admiral Irons was away, Sprite decided to settle something once and for all. After all, he wasn't around to stop her. So when she had the spare processor cycles, she turned them to explore a vexing problem that had haunted her buffers for entirely too long. She turned her attention to the Meia clones once more.
They were definitely clones, of that the medics had confirmed when she had examined the body of Horathian Lieutenant Mable Robinson. She'd seen the initial ONI reports before the commodore had slapped an ethics issue on the whole thing and shut her down. Monty had shrugged such concerns off in favor of the information needed for the front.
There were a lot of questions though, unanswered ones, some of which she needed a medic to explain. For instance, if they were clones, did they go through an accelerated growth program? Such practices were a two-edged sword. The subjects continued to age at a fast rate unless the process was stabilized by anti-geriatric treatments. Those were tougher than the usual applications to normal organics.
A copy meant genetic damage, since no copy was perfect. They were also more vulnerable to radiation, growth problems, cancers, and various ailments. But there were none on record.
A search of the databases available to her was still ongoing. Unfortunately, she only had access to the industrial star systems since they were further along with compiling the data. But some star systems were taking a fresh start to such data and weren't bothering to scan their old records into the system.
That meant she had no way of knowing how many more of the clones were out there and how long they had been appearing in the sector. Were they a Horathian experiment? Or a Xeno one? She had to know one way or another.
But when she tried to use her influence, it backfired. She hit a wall with the medics. Overrides were delayed and passed on to higher up the command chain. The commodore called her direct instead of answering her email.
“We've been over this, Captain. The answer is still no,” Commodore Thornby said tiredly.
“Doctor, she is a possible security threat,” Sprite said carefully. “As you know, another clone has been found. This one was in Horathian service. There could be others. One way or another I'd like to put this to bed so I can direct those resources investigating the issue elsewhere.”
“I'm not sure if you should be wheedling me as a doctor or as a curious Commodore Captain,” Nara replied, eyeing the A.I.'s holographic avatar. “Playing on my patriotism and curiosity has obviously only gotten you this far. I'm also certain there are plenty of issues with exploring this. If she was a clone, then I'd be hearing this from ONI, and there would be an official investigation.”
“I'm trying to keep this low key. I don't want to disrupt her career or look bad if I'm wrong,” Sprite said, pulling up her decision tree and abandoning other prepared arguments as she realized the doctor was proving obstinate. She realized she should have tried a junior medic, one more easily pliable. One unaware of the situation.
She didn't like the idea that even she could make mistakes.
“I don't think so,” Nara said, eyes narrowed. “I think you are fishing for proof.”
“That's what I'm trying to do!” Sprite admitted. “I need to know one way or another!”
“Prove it with her actions.”
“Can't she be a sleeper? Or all of them?”
“That is possible,” Nara admitted. “You can get an anonymous sample I suppose. I could check for signs of cloning. But, humans cloned themselves for centuries too Captain,” the doctor said, focusing on the A.I. “I dealt with it on Anvil remember?” she said patiently as the A.I. nodded. “Cloning is not proof of evil. It is how they are created and what their programming is …”
“I know, Doctor.”
“Then you know it isn't completely illegal either despite all the restrictions on it.”
“True but …”
“And I don't have enough samples
for a comparison. I'd need something to compare them to.”
“True. But, you can look?”
“I can if Admiral Irons signs off on it, which I don't see happening.”
“Damn it.”
“Right. I thought so. You tried an end run around him, didn't you?”
“I was trying to solve this mystery. I don't like unanswered questions, especially when security is a part of the question.”
“Potential security problem. She passed all the entry tests, didn't she?” Nara asked. She pulled the woman's profile up and nodded. She felt Sprite try to gain access and denied her. “Uh-uh,” she said, closing the file.
“What did you find?”
“To help you with your curiosity, she passed all the entry exams, both medical and psychological with flying colors. There is no sign of Xeno tampering, Captain. Now, before there is a formal complaint filed, I suggest you drop this. I strongly suggest it,” she said in a warning tone of voice.
“The commander doesn't know about this,” Sprite replied.
“No, but I do. I can and will file an ethics complaint if you persist in this harassment and persecution. She is a person and has rights too. Until we have definitive signs of wrong doing, she enjoys the same protections under the constitution as the rest of us. So, drop it.” she said in a firm voice.
Sprite's avatar grimaced in annoyance.
“That's an order, Captain. Focus on your duties and complete them with the same determination you are trying to apply here.”
“Very well,” Sprite grumbled, cutting the channel.
Nara shook her head as she felt the A.I. recede from her system. Once she was certain the A.I. was clear, she reset the security system. She couldn't be too careful that the A.I. hadn't planted a script to open a port for a back door. Then she opened the young woman's file again. She pursed her lips as she pulled up the genetic file.
She scanned it into another program and ran a quick test. Nothing of note came up. There were no signs of abnormal aging either. She frowned thoughtfully, tapping the desk top.
“Commodore, we have a scheduling conflict. You said one item on your schedule has priority, but I can't seem to access it,” her Yeoman said, interrupting her thoughts.
“Huh? Um, yes?”
“Sorry, ma'am, am I disturbing you? You weren't online …”
“No, no. I'm fine,” Nara said as she waved the yeoman forward. “What's the problem?”
“This,” the yeoman said, indicating a block of time. Nara saw it and her HUD overlaid the schedule and decrypted the block. She frowned. “That's classified time. I can't tell you. No, you can't break into it; you've got to work around it.”
The yeoman blinked and then nodded slowly. “Can I …?”
“No,” Nara said, cutting him off. “Sorry, but I just had this conversation. I don't need anyone else being nosy. No. Just work around it. If it is a problem, whatever else needs to be moved is moved.”
“Understood, ma'am,” the yeoman replied with a dutiful nod as he retreated.
Nara sat back after he left and shook her head.
Chapter 41
B-97a
The two Horathian light cruisers were surprised when a pair of Federation colliers jumped into the empty star system from B101a1. Captain Bates swore as he realized both ships were off position. They'd had to maneuver to pick over a tiny ice ball they'd found, and it was just the luck that the damn ships had appeared before they could get back into position.
Worse, both ships had been maneuvering too. They'd shut down their emissions immediately, but the hails from the colliers had let them know that someone was in the star system. An attempt to bluff had failed miserably; the collier crews had seen through it and had turned to run. They'd taken divergent courses to do so.
Mother-in-Law had been out of position to intercept her target. Both light cruisers lacked fighters too; the fighters had been stripped out long ago. That meant Throat Slasher could only run down one of the lumbering ships.
The remaining ship managed to get clear and jump back to B101a1 as Throat Slasher shot up the other collier. Captain Bates was grateful that his Tactical Department had figured out enough of the ship's layout to target the critical components of the ship without blowing it up. The small crew was dead, but her cargo was more or less intact and ripe for the pickings as was her fuel supply. Her life support was a different story though.
“I'm hoping they've got more than a shipment of TP on board,” Captain Bates said. “Though we're getting a bit low there too,” he said with a grin as his crew cheered. “Away the shuttle. Secure that wreck and patch her fuel and life support tanks pronto.”
The XO nodded and began to issue orders as the captain opened the laser link to Mother-in-Law. “So? I'd say beers are on you but I think we're out of it. We'll say you owe me, Rick,” he said.
“Great. Now we've got a problem though,” Captain White sighed in disgust. “That other ship got away, remember?”
“Eventually we do,” Captain Bates replied as he nodded to his XO to allow the shuttle to depart.
“Eventually could be in a month or so depending on what is in B101a1. We don't know what is there, remember? The captured databases we lifted off that collier were useless. They were encrypted.”
“True,” Captain Bates replied grudgingly. “But they won't want to uncover B101a1.”
“But they've got to have reinforcements coming in to Second Fleet eventually and ships going the other way. I'm surprised we haven't seen them yet.”
“And we're going to be pushed out eventually. Where do we go? You and I know we're in a crack. B101a1 has some sort of picket. Their Second Fleet could be in DD01ns by now, cutting off our retreat.”
“True.”
“So, that's it? We quit?” Captain Bates asked.
“What more do you want? We need fuel and food. We're low on supplies despite scavenging from the wrecks. We can't stay on here forever,” Captain White pointed out.
“They were supposed to send us a resupply,” Captain Bates said stubbornly as he watched a shuttle head over to the wreck.
“Yeah, if they could. Remember what I said about DD01ns? We have no idea who occupies it now. The Feds could be there intercepting everything sent to us. If they are smart, they'll figure out we're here eventually. All those ships are going to be missed sometime.”
The senior captain turned away from the view port and to the comm channel. He frowned. “Frack. You are right,” he finally admitted.
“So?”
Captain Bates realized he had to make the call. “So, I'm still senior. I say we wait another two weeks, depending on what the quartermasters say. Scavenge this ship and see what we can do with it and how much more we can stretch things. I'll have my CIC run a sim on how far we can get on it.”
“Great,” Captain White sighed.
“It's not perfect. But don't panic into running too soon. Remember, that collier isn't fast. It's also got to find help in B101a1 and then they've got to get it here. We've got time.”
“Okay. True,” Captain White replied grudgingly. “Just as long as we're not here when they show up.”
“Agreed. But I'd love to be a fly on the wall when they do show up and find an empty star system,” he chuckled. “Imagine them spending days scanning and probing it, then wondering where we went.”
Captain Bates chuckled in reply.
:::{)(}:::
Dead Drop
Commodore Rabideau rushed onto the bridge just as the klaxons were cut off abruptly. “Report,” he barked.
“Sorry, sir. Unexpected arrival at the DD01ns star system. We just received an IFF though, it's Widow's Playmate,” the ship's captain explained.
“Widow's Playmate?” the commodore echoed with a frown as enlisted and junior officers squeezed past him to get to their posts. He wrinkled his nose as the last vestiges of sleep clogged his synapses. “Drawing a blank.”
“She's a tin can, sir. She was the ship assigne
d to watch over B-97c,” the captain replied.
“Oh.” The commodore frowned and then realized what the ship's arrival could imply. “Oh,” he said in a much darker tone of voice. The captain looked at him sharply.
“Get them to send us their log. Find out why they didn't meet up with the courier and supply ship,” the commodore ordered.
The captain stiffened and then nodded slowly.
“While you are doing that, also alert Executioner of their arrival and append the log as we get it.”
“Aye aye, sir,” the captain replied quietly.
:::{)(}:::
Admiral De Gaulte frowned as he read the report. The news that the Federation's Second Fleet was in B-97c wasn't a surprise. He could tell from his staff that they were reacting with fear despite their reinforcements.
That sucked. He had to remind himself they'd been beaten; it played heavily in their minds. Being beaten and being reinforced haphazardly as they were was not good for morale. They needed more fighters, more capital ships, defensive instillations, anything, everything.
“We're still processing the raw data that the tin can brought back. The range was long; I do wish they'd waited a little longer before retreating. I understand the need to get the information back to us but …,” he shrugged and grimaced.
“What's done is done,” Berney replied with a shrug. “What about the courier and freighter?”
“They said there was no sign of them. They might have picked up the ion trail in DD01ns but we haven't processed that yet. It's not a priority.”
“Agreed. But if they didn't see them, that means the ships were in hyper and they passed each other.
“With any luck, they'll get in and manage to turn around and get the hell out fast,” Admiral De Gaulte rumbled. All eyes fell to him. He could stand the probing looks. He had to hold out for the positive to keep morale up. “Remember, they were supposed to jump well short of the jump point. They could have gotten away.”