by Chris Hechtl
“Not all,” the bug said.
“Oh?”
“I know for a fact that some of the files survived because they are being used in the trial. But I've been told nothing relevant for this project is in them,” the bug said, clearly aggrieved by that.
“I see. Yes, very vexing.”
“I will make a note to try to interview the senior engineering officers and enlisted. Those that I am allowed access to,” the T'clock stated, making a note.
“I'd suggest you get with the engineers that came with us on Caroline. There were several that remained in the Republic,” Zek mused, rubbing his chin. “I know the navigator is here at the academy. He could go over the systems he knows. He probably doesn't know the details, but he can go over what you've got for stuff like the navigational systems.”
“That would be a big help,” the bug said with a nod.
“I'll get you his email address since I believe he is in class. If you need help coding, I can take a look at some of the files too. I can also pass it off to the middies as projects,” Zek said.
“That could also be useful, sir,” the T'clock said, sounding relieved by the help.
“Anything I can do to help. I like Ilmarinen; she's a good ship. Anything I can do to get her back shipshape is important. Don't hesitate to ask, Commander.”
“Aye aye, sir.”
@
After the commander left, a tentative plan formed in Zek's mind. It was nebulous and chancy, but, if he played his cards right, it might work. He'd have to be damn careful about how he moved though; he knew he was most likely being watched.
One thing right off, he needed to get Lieutenant V'l'r and Commander Thistle on board with getting Ilmarinen sorted out. Just a minor note to each should suffice he thought. It was in their best interest to get the ship back into flight so they might have a way to get word to the Federation.
How was a problem for another time he thought as a TA came in with a couple middies in tow. “Sir, a problem with the midterm projects. These two were asking if they could collaborate; apparently, they had been doing so already. I didn't see anything about it, but I thought we should run it past you …”
“We can talk about it,” Zek said with a nod.
Chapter 18
Commander Ferguson stood nervously as Admiral Childress came in to his office. It was early morning; he's slipped into the administration complex during the graveyard shift in order to get what needed to be done, done. He regretted not being armed. If people came to their senses and went with him, it wouldn't be needed.
At best, he was going to be a hero. At worst, he was going to have egg on his face, face a court-martial, and be cashiered. He might be throwing his career away, but so be it he thought as the door handle turned and Admiral Childress came into his office.
He rose from his chair and stood there, hiding his trembling by tucking his hands behind his back. Admiral Childress stopped dead at the sight of the intruder. “What the devil is this?” the other man said, narrowed eyes at the intruder. “Talk fast, I'm on a schedule.”
The commander lifted his chin defiantly. “Admiral Childress, I am relieving you of command.”
The admiral's eyes bulged in shock and anger. “What the frack do you think you're doing?” the admiral demanded, stunned someone would do that in his own office.
“Sir, you are relieved by order of Admiral Irons.”
“Get the hell out of my office,” the admiral roared as his yeoman and Admiral Draken came in.
“Admiral Childress is relieved under order of Admiral Irons, President of the Federation. I suggest you follow his order. We need to put an end to this,” the commander said with as much dignity as he could as the yeoman ducked out of the office.
“Commander, this isn't your job,” Sherman replied. “Stand down.”
“The hell you say. I want this man arrested. I want his ass fried,” Omar snarled, pointing an accusing finger at the commander as a Neodog MP arrived at a run into the office. He stopped short, staring.
“I've relieved Admiral Childress of command per Admiral Irons' orders,” the commander said quietly, staring at the MP. “Do your duty and escort him to the brig. We need to get this crap under control.”
“The hell you say,” Admiral Childress snarled. His wrath was a living presence. “Get him out of here!” he bellowed, face red in rage.
Sherman glanced at the Neodog as the sergeant on duty arrived. Sergeant Malip was a Neogorilla, someone who had served under Sherman for years. “Sir?” the sergeant asked.
“Commander, stand down. You are relieved,” Admiral Draken said.
“Get him out of here!” Admiral Childress bellowed in a full bull roar.
“Sir,” the sergeant said, holding a hand out to the commander. “Don't make this anymore difficult than it is.”
The commander stared at him, shocked that he'd failed. That they had failed. “Are you serious?”
“Come on,” the sergeant muttered.
The commander shook his head. “You will regret this. This is when you should be taking him down, following our orders, not his. His orders are illegal,” the commander persisted as the MPs took him by the biceps and physically pulled him out of the room.
Admiral Childress tossed his coat and cover into a chair, lip curled in rage. “Get out,” he snarled to the yeoman.
“Let him cool off,” Admiral Draken said as he shook his head and walked out as well.
@
News of Commander Ferguson's arrest percolated through the navy. It made its way to the families and from there to the web and then the media. Some people came to realize that no one in the administration was willing to relieve Childress, not even the military police. Some of the dependents vandalized Omar's home in a fit of protest. Rioting broke out at Childress’s shipyards and outside Reba's home, but the protesters were swiftly pushed away before they could do any real damage.
While the news spread, additional security was ordered to protect the naval administration complex and select area. Both of the homes of Admirals Childress and Draken and a select few were also given additional protection, even though they were in base housing.
Admiral Childress was furious when his wife moved out and the base's dependents took a dim view of the additional security.
@
Brigadier General Yetmister considered his options carefully. On the one hand, the marine general couldn't act legally since the orders from Admiral Irons had not been directed to him. Admiral Draken or Admiral Shren should have stepped up and taken Omar out, but they obviously didn't want to do so. The MPs should have as well, but they apparently owed too much loyalty to Sherman and Omar. He shook his head. Both men had been thorough in fumigating the command structure and administration complex and placing in their own people with personal loyalty to them. That wasn't good; it meant there was no one to trust there.
It was eminently proven with the arrest of that stupid commander. The kid had meant well but … he shook his massive head, grimacing in annoyance. If the kid had a lick of strategic sense, he would have checked the situation out and then gotten back up before moving ahead with his plan. Just going in like that with what, certainty that they'd do the right thing wrapped around him? He was lucky he didn't get shot. If they'd wanted Childress out, they would have done it without the commander's reminder. The MPs guarding the complex were armed and loyal to Draken obviously. If he sent his Marines in armed, there could very well be a shooting incident, quite possible sparking the civil war he very much wanted to avoid.
His hands balled in frustration briefly. “Stupid,” he muttered. In going in half-cocked and trying to take on Childress alone, the kid had done what the general hadn't wanted, he'd made Omar realize he was vulnerable. Even more vulnerable to a lone gunman intent on ending him permanently too judging from the orders and crap going on at admin. Security was constricting around admin. Additional layers were being added. Paranoia was setting in with a
vengeance, and some people were running around like headless chickens, wondering if their careers were going to survive it all. Unfortunately, Omar's paranoia was justified; he really did have enemies out to get him.
The problem was the general had no intention of going after him to cut off the head of the snake unless he was certain of victory. Too much could go wrong. And obviously, he had to take out more than just Childress if he was to succeed. He ran a frustrated hand through his fur. No, a complete top-to-bottom housecleaning was needed.
And he wasn't set up to do that sort of thing. “Who's the guy who needed an honest man?” he muttered, shaking his head. “Sir, we've got more problems with discipline,” Lieutenant Colonel Gnoll said, sticking his Neohyena head through the general's open door to look at his boss.
“Of course you do,” the general sighed, shelving the mutiny plan for the moment. “Where do we need to play fireman now?”
“Well …,” the colonel drawled as he slipped fully into the office and held out a tablet. “We're having trouble on some of the campuses, but the real problem is in Echo Charlie Base …”
@
Concern that the admiral would declare martial law and take over the civilian government. The administration was warned by Admiral Childress's backers and their friends in the Republican congress and cabinet to stay out of the mess. Decide to keep quiet. Not happy however.
Try to stall for time. Have to plan, try to figure out what moves they could make and more importantly, who they could trust to make them. The warning brought home the realization that Childress still had supporters in the industry and politics, despite the shaky ground he was on.
Dealing with that was another matter. Just identifying all the players was problematic, the chief of staff realized with a pang. But they needed to do so, the sooner the better.
@
The various media outlets continued to talk about the situation. The break with the government had already been talked to death; it was resurrected as ONI safe houses were identified publicly. Some were attacked by the public. Police officers were called in to defend the property; however, many did little to stop the wreckage.
The civilian supporters of Admiral Childress couldn't control all of the media, and struggled to steer their own people. Their own talking heads tried to blow the break off or spin it. Why they aren't talking about it or taking it seriously was rapidly becoming a problem. The level of cynicism in the population guaranteed at least a small group would be skeptical of what was going on and the orders from Admiral Irons.
Despite the problems, Admiral Childress rammed through promotions of some of his supporters through the system in job lots. Some went out to relieve people of questionable loyalty or to fill vacant positions.
Admiral Draken took the opportunity to cement better control of the naval forces and bases in Bek B. He dispatched three dozen officers, some recently promoted to captain or flag rank to Bek B with orders to take control there and relieve undesirable elements of their command and then send them back to Bek A for processing. They boarded a pair of naval supply ships for the month-long journey to the other component of the Republic since the starships were unavailable.
When Admiral Draken was apprised of the problems of maintaining control over that distance without more up-to-date intelligence, he issued orders to begin rebuilding the starships. Their crews had been looted of personnel to man the active fleet, but he ordered Admiral N'r'm'll to begin finding appropriate people to man them.
Admiral Callisto was more than happy to sick her yard dogs on the three starships. There was no new construction so her people were idle doing repair work. That was in fact a problem with Childress's supporters; they weren't getting the contracts to build ships anymore and the lack of income was starting to hit them.
Admiral Callisto balked at building additional sublight warships however. She kept steering the idea into committees and design reviews to stall for time while she tried to find someone to work on the starships.
It took two days to reassemble the computer design team and ship architects who had worked on the Ilmarinen project. Many had left the service, but a small core of personnel remained in uniform. They were quickly overwhelmed with the enormity of rebuilding the computer networks on all three ships. The fact that the ships were starships, not ordinary sublight ships was not lost on them either.
Newly-promoted Commander Dreamer of Ships freely admitted he was in over his head. “I need programmers; I need more people. Electricians can plug some of the hardware in, but we don't even know what is missing! They didn't leave us a blueprint!”
“So, you are saying we need experts,” Admiral Callisto said.
“Exactly. The engineers on Ilmarinen can help since they've been trying to keep their ship together. Of the three, that one is at least 10 percent, give or take,” the bug stated. “We can do a lot more there. The other two though …,” he shook his head. “The liner had way too many computer systems in it. I don't know where to start.”
The admiral grimaced. “Okay, I'll have our people look into them.”
“I know there were engineers who came over in Caroline. If any of them are still around, I could sure use their help,” the bug said pointedly.
“I'll see what I can do,” Admiral Callisto said, making a note. She knew some had gone on the ship and had remained behind in the Harbor Station. One of the engineers was a chief engineer in Bek B. She made a note to see about transferring her back to BUSHIPS. The last was in logistics, and he was off limits. Admiral Draken had ordered he be left there.
“I think Admiral Zekowitz had a hand in some of the design work on Ilmarinen, ma'am,” the T'clock stated. “You could ask him or Admiral Logan.”
“Commodore Logan thank you, Commander,” the admiral said sharply.
“My apologies, ma'am.”
“Logan is obviously out. But I'll take your idea of Admiral Zekowitz under advisement,” she replied. She knew Zek. She had never served with him, but she'd known him by reputation. He was quite but a good engineer. He was also rotting away at the academy. She floated the idea of getting him back into BUSHIPS. She doubted she'd get her way; after all, he'd been to the outer Federation and was therefore tainted in some eyes.
“For the moment, go ahead and pick his brain when you can. Do you even have a flow chart on the other ships?”
“No, ma'am. The basics, yes, but not the details. Most of it we borrowed from Ilmarinen's blueprints. Can we get a copy of Mercury?”
“Mercury?” she asked, cocking her head.
“The admiral, excuse me, commodore's A.I. He installed it in the computers, but someone took it out. It's a dumb A.I. created by Admiral Irons. It is a design aide to help the user build and repair starships.”
“My, that would be useful,” Admiral Callisto murmured as she made a note. “I'll see what I can do, but knowing cyber security it is probably long gone, just like the original hardware from those ships,” she said with a grimace.
The T'clock bobbed his antenna and then gave a human-style nod. “Understood.”
“Anything else?”
“A budget, ma'am?”
“I'll take it up with the powers that be,” she replied. “Email me a list of anything else you need.”
“Aye aye, ma'am.”
Chapter 19
Horatio realized he'd bunkered down mentally and adapted when the routine didn't bother him, and he started to respond to the calls and habits instinctively. A part of his mind didn't like it, but he knew he didn't have a choice—adapt or die. Besides, he'd been through hell before on Anvil. The prison was as dangerous, but he had that time on Anvil and the knowledge that he'd survived it to remind him he could get through the prison system too.
He was unsurprised when his roommate was reassigned. They said it was a transfer, but he kept a straight face as Bernie packed, giving off every sign of both frustration and relief.
“I'd like to wish you good luck with your next
assignment, Agent, but I can't really put my heart into it,” Horatio said as Bernie finished packing.
Bernie stared at him. Horatio smiled thinly. “Have a good day,” he said. Bernie just shook his head and walked out. Outside the cell, he turned his torso to look at Horatio and then shook his head when the guard indicated he should get moving. Horatio could see the other man muttering dark things as he walked off. He snorted softly to himself.
Of course they left the recording devices in place. That was fine; he knew where they were. What he was surprised by was the sudden influx of prisoners that threatened to overwhelm the system. Within days of Berny's departure, the cellblock began to fill up. The guards tried hot bunking at one point, only for some dark protests and some threats of a riot to cause a general lockdown to ice everyone down for forty-eight hours. After that, the excess prisoners were filtered out.
While he was on lockdown, the judge selection process began.
@
Three judges were selected from the available pool. Admiral Childress involved himself in the selection process right from the beginning. Given that Horatio was a flag officer, the judges had to be flag officers as well. The jury had to have senior officers as well.
Unfortunately, the judge and jury pool were highly limited and even more limited by his own selection process. Because it was a capital case, three judges had to be impaneled to proceed. He found his three judges in two flag officers, Rear Admiral Harry, “the hanging judge,” Thurgrad, a JAG who was a former protégé of Admiral Vice Admiral Fohad Amir. Rear Admiral Wally Silvestri was the other officer, also human. He was almost a nonentity of an officer, known for keeping his head down and going with the flow.
To round out the trio, he was forced to accept a marine colonel, Chase Talia, a NeoRottweiler who had been an active duty marine before he had gone to college and become a JAG. All three were male and Terran, which he saw in his favor, though the marine was light for the case. The marine would not like anyone disobeying orders. He wasn't certain how well things would go, but he knew the other two judges could and would outvote the marine if necessary.