by Chris Hechtl
“Don't ask stupid questions you already know the answer to. You just make yourself look foolish,” she replied with a bite to her tone of voice. He flushed slightly at the rebuke but nodded.
“So, what do we do?” Ch'k'n'll the Veraxin CEO of Snipclick Enterprises asked. “Do we continue to support him?”
“The move is his. I doubt he'll back down considering I haven't gotten any calls. He isn't whining to me, so I'll give him that much credit. Whatever happens we're stuck with him and the path he's put us on,” Mrs. Childress drawled. “Heaven help us all if it really does go to civil war.”
“Well, from our perspective that can only be considered a good thing. War is …,” Ch'k'n'll cut himself off as Reba leveled a cold look his way.
Heads around the table grimaced in acknowledgment. She rose slowly from her seat. “If you'll excuse me, I've got a date with my doctor.”
“Found a path forward?” Jules asked as he rose from his seat in polite company.
Reba gave him a smile. She appreciated his attempt at being a gentleman. “You know it. He's taken some of the medical knowledge that Caroline graciously gifted us, and it has given me a new lease on life. One I'll be willing to show you later,” she said wickedly. He sputtered as she patted him on the cheek and then left the room. He looked around the room for support but found everyone looked the other way.
“Right,” he drawled. “Someone please tell me she's joking,” he muttered under his breath. There was a soft chuckle from one of the retired admirals but no denials. “Frack.”
“No matter what she and her son say, we need to make contingency plans,” Admiral Open Eyes stated. The T'clock admiral had retired from the navy over a decade prior to take on a manager's position with one of the subcontractors of the major suppliers to the navy like Snipclick and Fabian. His antenna bobbed as he turned his heart-shaped head to Vice Admiral Fohad Amir, his counterpart.
“Agreed,” the other retired admiral said. “Obviously, we didn't count on Irons’ resolve and decision to meddle in our affairs so deeply. We need a series of GOTH plans now and a way to distance ourselves from Childress when this blows up in his face. The cleaner the better in my opinion, so we don't get splattered with the mess.”
“When not if,” Jules pointed out.
“Exactly,” the T'clock stated.
“Agreed,” Vice Admiral Latiff Revere murmured in agreement. Jules surveyed the room and noted others nodding. “Obviously, we need to stop this headlong plunge and reassess the situation.”
“I'd love to. Unfortunately, I don't think it is up to us,” Jules murmured.
@
Ingrid Sema shook her head as she used the remote to surf through the various media channels. The news was on every channel, burying any other story out there. Everyone was waiting to see what Childress would do. To some, they were still waiting, but it was clear to her that Childress had answered the question without a word. He wasn't going anywhere. That was clear from the additional security at the naval bases on the ground.
What Sven and the government were going to do about that she wasn't certain. Obviously, they had to walk a fine line between Childress and Irons. On the one hand, they wanted him out and would gleefully drop-kick the asshole out if they could. Unfortunately, they couldn't. Worse yet, Omar held the keys to the navy. He had spent over a year putting his people into key control positions.
But, the navy was a massive organization. His people couldn't be everywhere could they? She was fairly certain they were playing the patron tree game for all they were worth, but this was different now. Irons was involved, and he'd come out against Childress. Would one of his people stick a knife in his back in order to step over him? That would be the smart move long term, but she wasn't certain that it would happen.
No, she mused, it was too easy. It was wishful thinking on her part to even consider it would happen. So, it wouldn't. They had to plan accordingly. The question was, how?
“Should we continue with the shopping, madam?” a familiar voice asked from the door. She was startled by the interruption to her thoughts as she turned to Monroe, the Neojaguar butler of the family.
“No, I think we're going to stay home today. The roads look decidedly unsavory today,” she said firmly. “I think I'll keep the kids home too,” she said coming to a decision. “They can attend virtually.”
“Very well, ma'am, I'll inform Draven,” the Neocat replied in a droll voice.
“Still practicing the voice?” she teased.
“Trying to at any rate,” he said with a sniff.
“It doesn't quite suit you. If your face was long, whiskers long,” she made drooping hand motions. “Maybe have your eyelids half closed …”
His ears flicked in humor. “I'll take it under advisement, mum.”
“Cute. That's putting me in my place quite neatly,” she said.
“I do try,” he said with that droll voice. “Are you worried about what is going on?” he asked her, nodding his chin to the vid screen.
She turned back to see someone climbing onto a car and waving a flag of the Federation with glee as others rocked the car and chanted, “Childress out!” with their fists in the air.
“It does. They might have Irons on their side, and passion obviously. But Childress is the one with the guns and the means to use them.”
The cat's eyes went wide. “Surely it won't come to that!” he said, aghast.
“I don't know. I just don't know,” she replied as she shook her head. And, that's the scariest thing of all she realized. Her family were power brokers; they were most comfortable directing politics and their civilization.
@
Sven Sema rubbed his brow as he considered the situation from the government's point of view. The president was trying to walk a fine line between Childress and Irons. The words like coup, civil war, and such were being bandied about, first in hushed tones, but louder and louder as people started to take the threats seriously.
Recently the president had come out in a brief press conference to call for calm. “I understand passions are running high in the streets right now,” the Veraxin stated. “There are those out there who wish to demonstrate. They can use their First Amendment rights to protest. That is indeed their right, and I support it. But,” he said sternly, swiveling all four eyes at the camera. “ …When they get violent or involve property damage, the police will be there to shut it down. And organizers will be held responsible if they can't keep the hooligans in check. The protests are not a license for wholesale rioting and a loss of law and order!”
Since the government hadn't known much more, the president had not allowed any questions. He was back in his office, dealing with other issues. But, they had become aware through their own sources in the navy, that Admiral Logan was under arrest. That was an ominous sign, an ominous sign indeed.
Politicians, both past and present, were coming out of the woodwork and taking sides with the talking heads. Some were clearly fearful of what it all meant. The question remained, what would Childress do? Was he unhinged or power mad? Was he going to take over?
He wasn't certain. The media wasn't holding back; they were milking the drama for all it was worth. The idea of the navy splintering into a civil war was deeply troubling. Even more so was the threat of Childress using the navy against a population center. Would he? Would the people he ordered follow through with that order? What about the families on the ground, would such a threat cause the civil war within the Bekian Navy?
All good questions. Unfortunately, he didn't have any answers.
@
Twenty-four hours after the broadcast was received by Command One, Captain Prescott put out a blunt statement. “The Admiralty is reviewing the order, but it is in high opinion that it is an invalid order. Therefore, Admiral Childress will not be stepping down. Please remain calm and return to your normal routine as investigators sort out the situation further. When we have more news, we will let you know.
That is all.”
And with that statement, the media and population centers went quiet for a moment as they realized just how dangerous a situation they had just entered in was.
Chapter 3
Commander Valentine Lockyear considered the bust a possible make or break moment in her career. It had to be handled just so, which was why she'd gotten involved despite Sargento's protests. Sure, he'd been the JAG who had made the arrest, but she planned to ram the charges home. She knew she didn't have the rank to prosecute the charges in such a high-profile case, but her zeal would make her look good to Admiral Shren.
But first, they had to make it all happen. The senior-most NCIS agent in the command station at the jump point had taken the lead as she had in the investigation. Agent Ahuja was a good Neodog, smart, and he knew which way to push things and how hard. He'd learned from his mistakes as a junior agent.
At least, she hoped so. She knew some of his team was not happy about being caught in the middle. His computer specialist, Agent Tau Sito, seemed oblivious initially, too intent on securing the ship's computers. He was supervising a team of techs as they sifted through the files and bookmarked material for the investigation team to look into more carefully.
It was going to be a long week she knew, long and tiring. She had to make certain they got in as much material as possible, so she had to crack the whip and keep cracking it. That meant they were in for double and triple shifts.
She glanced at Sargento. He had wised-up after his initial protest at her involvement, realizing it was better to work with her than piss her off further. That was a good sign; it meant he wasn't interested in undermining the investigation out of spite.
“Of course you can use the wardroom for interrogations,” Captain Clayton stated.
“Good. You do understand that will mean it will be off limits to the officers and crew during the voyage. An inconvenience,” Commander Dauplin stated, “but a necessary one I'm afraid.
The captain nodded grimly. He had highlighted a few things for the brass to read in the download of the ship's log and his reports, which might be why Childress hadn't been relieved. But it didn't look like it was helping him or his career any. He turned his head to see Agent Sito supervise another agent as the wardroom was wired by the NCIS team for audio and visual recording. They also used it as a temporary office in-between interrogations he knew.
The one good thing about the ship running so shorthanded was that there was plenty of space to put the unwanted investigation team and the MPs up. They also had office space to use.
“We'll need to interview everyone. For the moment, we're still in the initial stages of gathering evidence and getting the first impressions. I'm afraid we'll have to make multiple interviews when a point comes up that we need to explore further,” Valentine said mildly.
The captain hesitated slightly but then nodded in earnest. “Whatever you need.”
“Good,” the woman said with a nod. “We'll start with what we know and then work backwards from there. Command One is drawing up a list of things they want us to look into, and of course, our team will be going over the files and anything that comes up during the interviews. Please keep the people separate and have them refrain from talking to each other about the cases and investigation.”
“I'll do my best, but scuttlebutt has a mind of its own,” the captain muttered.
She pursed her lips but didn't say anything in response to that.
@
They had intended to interrogate Horatio and the bridge crew right off, but Agent Ahuja decided to hit some of the junior officers who were off duty first to get a feel for their temperament and their attitudes towards Horatio and the investigation. Some of the crew were contemptuous of their role, others nervous about also being targeted.
“If you didn't do anything wrong, don't worry about it and tell the truth. That's all you need to do,” Agent Ahuja said mildly when someone balked.
“You don't have the right to refuse to answer questions,” the JAG said when someone balked and wanted to speak to an attorney first. “You are under military discipline and will obey.”
That usually worked to break resistance. Anyone who still held out was set aside for the moment. They were not the true target of the investigation, but balking at answering questions was enough to flush their career anyway.
@
Some officers had to be handled delicately. There were some questions that couldn't be put off however, the Neodog thought. And some people, no matter how high they were, could be open to the same charges, he thought, glancing at the officer's vital signs in his old-fashioned reading glasses.
It was a simple trick but an effective one. The subject being interviewed was monitored remotely. Their vital signs were fed into a computer and then outputted wirelessly to his reading glasses. He had to pretend to read something from time to time with them of course. They were also useful for his people out of the room to feed him information or questions.
“Once you were cleared from hyperspace and your IFF had been accepted, why didn't you stop him from transmitting, Captain?” Agent Ahuja asked, cocking his head politely to the officer across the table from him.
Captain Clayton grimaced. “First, he's a rear admiral and I'm a ship's captain. He outranked me.”
The Neodog's ears flicked. “We're still settling the rank issue. But for the moment, we'll go with that. Continue.”
“Second, I didn't know the content of the message ahead of time. I know he was sent to Bek by Admiral Irons, but I didn't know what he was going to transmit. I wish now that I'd been more forceful talking him out of it.” He left unsaid that he had a general idea of what the content was. He had known things would go bad but not this bad. It was every officer for himself.
“We've seen the bridge logs. Based on those a court would determine that you did know the contents, Captain,” Agent Ahuja warned.
“I knew that he wanted to make a broadband transmission to the star system, which went against protocol. It was, is, something you don't do without clearing it ahead of time with high command. He didn't. I knew that, and that was why I protested.”
“I see.”
“I'm not happy about the message. I don't know what is going on outside this ship; your people have locked down our communications.” He felt like a prisoner on his own ship, and the feeling didn't set well with him.
“We're monitoring them for you. There is no need for concern. For the moment, you will remain incommunicado as we continue the investigation. We do not want your crew to violate the investigation. When you have need of communicating with the dock, we will arrange it.”
The captain bobbed a nervous nod. “Understood,” he said grudgingly. “We will eventually be able to talk with our families though? We've been out of contact for months. It is wearing on the crew. They are eager to get home and see their families.”
“I'm sure. We'll have to do individual briefings and warn them not to talk about the cases with anyone though,” the Neodog warned. The captain grimaced. He knew they wanted to put the fear of Childress and repercussions down on everyone, but what was going on was too juicy to hold back. Someone somewhere would eventually talk. It was inevitable, like the solar wind.
“If you can put in your own warnings, we'd appreciate it.”
“I'll certainly do so,” the captain said.
“Good. Okay, now, back to the events on the station …”
@
Horatio grimaced as he finished another session with the NCIS agents. He didn't hold much back other than his personal recordings. Technically, he could pass them over to clear things up, but from the tenor of their questions, he felt they would just use them as more ammunition against him. They were certainly out for his neck.
Trying to dance around the facts was a headache. Many times he caught himself when they tried to lead him into some false admission of guilt. He didn't like that crap. That wasn't the way things were supposed to be
done. That wasn't the way an investigation was supposed to be done. It was supposed to be fair and impartial. Just the facts. This reeked of trouble. Just being called commodore by the JAG pissed him off. At least the agents called him “sir.”
Judging from his implants and the occasional bit he'd overheard, they were on course for Command One. But, to his dismay, no one had relieved Childress. It was the worst-case scenario or close enough to it to keep him up at night.
Well, that and the squished and stinky foam mattress in the brig.
@
“Why do you keep going back to the events on the station?” Valentine asked as she came in and sat on the edge of the agent's desk.
“Because I think it is important,” the Neodog replied absently as he continued to read the report in front of him. He'd left the hatch door ajar because he liked the breeze and sometimes heard things in passing that others didn't want him to hear. But doing so was a two-edged sword.
The woman crossed her arms. “More important than following our orders?” she asked mildly.
Agent Ahuja looked up to her and then cocked his head and flicked his ears as he looked away. He had been sent out to the jump point not as a promotion but to get rid of him by the previous administration. This investigation was his way to get into the new administration's good graces, just like her. “To be honest the transmission is pretty cut and dried. We've got the confirmation codes; it is from Admiral Irons. Everything is above board there.”
“So?” the JAG investigator demanded.
“So, we can't legally touch him for that. It will just fall apart. But his actions on this Harbor Station have not been reviewed. And the Xeno virus is alarming enough to grab anyone's attention.”
“It is. But they resolved it. It was also reviewed by the Admiralty. He transmitted his report through the ansible. He was also in another star system, so Admiral Childress doesn't have jurisdiction.”