by Chris Hechtl
They'd settled on rebuilding four nodes: three on the bow all along the keel and one on the keel near the midship’s line.
Bailey had worked with Commander Walengrad to pull the node components out of the ship's cargo manifest and then the duo and the enlisted they had overseen had wrestled the parts to the ship's cramped engineering workshops to be repurposed.
Zek had overseen that part with Baxter and a few of the other experienced node techs. For Zek, Horatio judged it to be a hands-on learning experience. After all, he'd learned the theory of the modern nodes but had little hands-on experience to back it up. Now he had some, Horatio thought with pride.
Once they'd gotten the nodes replaced, their jobs weren't quite over. The helm team and grav techs worked to balance the load all over again and break the new nodes in, hopefully without actually breaking them, which, fortunately, hadn't come to pass. While that had been going on, the tired but elated teams had worked on making other repairs to the ship as well as reconditioning the old worn nodes to replace the hardware they'd pulled and used.
But now all that was over with, Horatio thought as the ship counted down to jump. The good news was, once they were in hyper it would hopefully be smoother sailing. They might even manage to make up lost time, though he doubted it.
~<><{<^>}><>~
"Still having issues with the history, Lieutenant?" Lieutenant Si asked, eyeing Pietro.
"I … yes, ma'am, I'm still coming to grips with it. It doesn't make sense. Not in the way you've explained it to me," he said with a shake of his head.
"What is tripping you up?"
"It's … it's just …," he grimaced then decided to take the plunge head first. "The thing I noticed is that there hasn't been any innovation in what, seven centuries? No new concepts or ideas. The think tanks and R&D companies are all about recreating modern tech. But that's just it; they haven't!" he threw his hands up in the air in exasperation.
"I see," Oprah said mildly as she crossed her arms and leaned against the door jam. "Part of it is, as you said, recreating modern tech. It is trickier than we thought. I mean, you folks in the outer Federation have been trying and failing for the same period."
"Yes, but in the outer Federation, at least here in Rho sector at any rate, we've been in the dark ages—agro worlds or worse. Some places like Pyrax and Antigua had tech but not much. It was all we could do to cling to what we had! You've got forty-seven billion people! All with a modern education, access to medical, the Encyclopedia Galactica, and the sleepers! And yet …," he waved an impotent hand to the screen.
Oprah frowned uncomfortably. She didn't like the thoughts he was evoking in her.
"Nothing. No advances, little that is on par with modern tech … What gives?"
"There wasn't nothing, just …," she frowned.
He sat back in his chair and stared at her. "Really," he said.
"Um, I, um, don't know …," her frown intensified. It was embarrassing, and she didn't like being put on the spot like that. "I don't know about classified tech. Even if I did, I couldn't tell you," she said as her face cleared. There, she had an out, she thought.
"Yeah, and you and I know that is a cop-out. If it was created centuries ago, eventually it would have hit the mainstream, and side projects would have been spun off to create new things. But again …," he waved a hand to the screen. "Nothing. Not even modern tech. If enough modern starships jumped in your defenders, with all their numbers they would be shredded." She scowled and opened her mouth but didn't get a chance to retort.
"Bek is stagnant. Just doing the status quo. So, my question is, why?" he asked, eyeing her.
"The ban …," she frowned. "I realize you are new, and well, some of what the Admiralty downloaded was a joke. But, there is a ban for a reason," she said stubbornly.
"So … that's it? Blinders? Tell people an entire field, and all it interacts with is off limits and no one does anything? Nothing at all?"
Oprah didn't say anything for a long moment as he stared at her. Finally, he gave up and looked at the screen. "What can I say Pietro? I don't know."
"Someone does. Someone should find out."
"Way above our pay grade fella. Asking questions like that can get you into trouble if you aren't careful."
"Um …"
"Diplomacy. You remember the word?" he nodded. "You can get away with that here with me now, but with someone else, especially a higher ranking officer in Bek …," she shook her head.
"Okay, I'll mind my P's and Q's," he said.
"And try to get your boss to be … discrete if he has the same questions," she urged. He stared at her and then nodded slowly.
She hoped and prayed he took her warning to heart. Something told her though it wouldn't be enough.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Zek saw the ship countdown and grinned. He was tired, his hands hurt from the occasional nick and cut, but he felt on top of the world. They'd done it; they'd managed to rebuild four nodes in a week's time, all while still underway. They weren't going to make up the time lost; he was sure of that. But it was time well spent now that he'd seen the damage to those nodes.
The Federation's modern nodes were far more advanced than the ones used in Bek. He knew that. They also had more redundant systems and had some impressive backup systems that could take up the slack.
They were also far more powerful and had a lot more finesse. He'd never imagined such finesse in such a tiny package. The main node generated the bulk of the field, but the shaper nodes arranged in a ring around them shaped and tuned the field strength, while also tying it into neighboring nodes. It was all a fine dance of parts, software, and power balancing.
It was also far more complex than it would be if it had been strictly a sublight shield node. He knew that, but he'd seen the advantages. Their modern hardware meant the system was far more efficient, but it also meant it was prone to more wear and had to be looked after constantly.
“ … one, we have hyperspace translation. Wait one … we have insertion to the first octave of alpha band. No problems currently detected,” Ensign Caroline said over the intercom.
He grimaced slightly as he heard that. That was the flip side of having the more complex nodes; you almost had to have the proper computer support to handle them. An organic simply couldn't keep up, not with the demand, which meant his people were going to have to change.
He wasn't sure if they could though.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Horatio got to know Bailey and his wife Galiet better, Bailey tended to haunt engineering since he had little to do. The Neochimp was also quite good on the salle mat, though he tended to use brute force over finesse every time. Only Oppie the TACO could best him on a regular basis. The last time Horatio had tangled with the Neochimp, he'd needed time in sickbay and a soak in one of the ship's few hot tubs to get over the bout. He decided after that to bow out of such challenges. He didn't need another visit to the wannabe chiropractors and sadists who called themselves medics. He swore they inflicted more pain just to remind him not to come into their clutches again.
Horatio knew that the Neochimp was still friends with Admiral Irons, an item they had in common, though Bailey had rare and intermittent contact with the admiral since his departure. Their mutual friendship had sparked after Destiny had brought him information about a breach in security. The Neochimp had signed on as a reservist, but the reserve ship had been too busy on her regular run for him to ever be activated.
At least, that was, until now.
“I gotta ask,” he said, eyeing the pair as they held hands. “I thought you loved Destiny and the life you were leading there? Why the change?”
“Well,” Bailey drawled, “it was just that. Routine. Back and forth. The occasional downtime in Pyrax to refit,” he looked at his wife, “But we never really got to take advantage of that time since I was the chief engineer,” he stated.
Horatio nodded slowly.
“Sylvia just had her second child. Destiny wa
s getting crowded, and well, we couldn't all be on board,” Galiet explained, taking up the narrative. “She and Clennie wanted time with the other kids to, I don't know, settle down for a bit. The kids are getting older, so we wanted them to experience a fuller education, not just what they had on Destiny.”
“I see,” the commodore replied with a nod. “And you being here though? That doesn't quite fit in, you know,” he said.
Galiet shot her husband a moderately exasperated look. “That's his fault.”
“Guilty,” Bailey said, holding his free hand up. “I got bored truth to tell. Bored out of my gourd once I got off Destiny.” He jerked his thumb at his wife who pretended to try to bite it until he snatched it back. “This one here was busy with her own career after graduating, so …” he shrugged helplessly. Galiet looked briefly apologetic before her face resolved into a firm stubborn look. Apparently, it was an old argument. Horatio could understand it; Bailey was a doer, an engineer. It was hard to change career paths. It was even harder to take a side seat while your partner stepped up and had her time in the spotlight to shine.
For Neochimps it had to be really rough with their polygamous marriage groups Horatio thought as Bailey continued his narrative. “I'd considered hitting you up to take on a yard slip. I just didn't like the idea of drowning in paperwork. I did consult work when I got off Destiny, you know,” he waved a hand. Horatio nodded. “And I taught and took classes at the college and academy. I played consultant with you as you know too,” he said.
Horatio nodded. Whenever the navy was swamped, he'd been forced to call in outside experts to fill the gap. Bailey had been one of those people. The Neochimp's reserve commission had facilitated that.
“He wanted adventure. A time for us to reconnect, sort of another honeymoon,” Galiet said. She glowered at her husband. “This isn't quite the pleasure cruise I'd expected or been led to believe however,” she growled mockingly.
“Want some cheese with that whine?” Bailey said with a grin. She poked him and then punched him in the shoulder. He oofed then chuffed in response.
“Well, once we get things sorted out, we can see about you two getting some time alone. Maybe visit one of the planets or space resorts or something,” Horatio said.
“I'm a spacer born and bred. I'm not sure about running around on the ground,” Bailey admitted. “The last time I hit planet-side I got wicked hay fever,” he growled.
“We'll sort it out. Maybe go hit the ski slopes or the beach or something,” Galiet murmured, eyeing him imploringly.
Bailey eyed her, clearly horrified by the idea. Horatio smiled in sympathy. “You aren't serious! You want for us to break a leg or neck or something?”
“Oh I don't know,” she drawled. “I think it'll be fun. Besides,” she grinned wickedly at him. “The chalets, warm fire, warm drink,” her voice dropped into a husky promise as her free hand stroked his arm.
“Um, okay, not totally sold but …”
She leaned over to him and whispered in his ear. Horatio ducked his head, smiling and chuckling to himself.
Bailey groaned loud enough to attract attention and making the commodore look up. The Neochimp adjusted himself a bit then crossed his short legs. Galiet grinned at him evilly. “Evil, wicked woman,” he muttered. If anything her smile just broadened. Her green eyes glittered with mischief. “You are so going to pay for that,” he muttered.
“Um …,” Horatio chuckled.
“Later, dear,” Galiet said sweetly to her husband. Horatio snorted. She turned and gave the commodore a wink. “Now, where were we, sir?”
“Yes, any other topic would be nice right about now so I can get certain things under control again,” Bailey said gruffly.
Galiet's eyes turned devilish. Horatio chuckled again, shaking his head. “You two need a room, and yes I know you don't have one to yourselves. At least, not yet,” he said. “In the meantime, I guess we do have work to do,” he said almost apologetically.
Bailey nodded.
“So, with that being said …”
ACT II
Chapter 17
Commodore Horatio Logan felt a sense of relief and renewed purpose as Caroline arrived in Bek. Once the ship flashed her IFF to the orbital fortresses and fleet he felt the easing of tension on the bridge.
"We're receiving a hail, sir. It's orders to meet up with another escort and move out to the command fortress in Bek component A, sir," a comm rating reported.
"Feed the course to navigation," the Neochimp captain ordered.
"Aye, sir," the rating replied.
The captain turned to the commodore. "If you're expecting fan fair, I'm sorry to say you'll be sadly mistaken, Commodore," Captain Perth said. "They are all business here it seems."
"That's okay. I'm not a peacock; I'm here to do a job," Horatio stated, still eyeing the massive ships around the jump point zone. The Bekians hadn't built anything larger than a super dreadnaught, but they'd pressed the tonnage envelope there he could tell. He didn't have the ship's mass readings, but his engineering trained eyes and mind told him the titans were packed with hardware.
And since they didn't have hyperdrives, their power systems were set-up to power their sublight drives, shields, and energy weapons.
The captain eyed him and then nodded. "Good to hear, sir."
"It's one thing to see your last report and read the downloads we received from them. Quite another to see it in real life. I'm impressed by what they've accomplished," the commodore admitted.
"That's because you only had a few years and a small group to start with in Pyrax, sir. Given seven centuries like they had and I bet you'd have done better, sir," the captain said loyally.
The commodore cracked a brief smile, but he could see the comparison irked his fellow flag officer. "Admiral Zekowitz, should we contact anyone in particular? Begin the download?"
"I think we can give them a brief contact report. Sort of lay the groundwork," the rear admiral stated with a nod. "The details can wait until we're closer and more secure," he said.
"You heard that?" the commodore asked, looking at the captain.
"Aye, sir. We'll be ready for your transmission when you are," Captain Perth stated with a nod.
"Course plotted and laid in. We have two tin-can-sized craft moving along the flight path, sir," Lieutenant Brock stated.
"Feed the course to the helm and move us out then, Mister Brock," the captain said formally.
"Aye aye, sir," the lieutenant replied.
~<><{<^>}><>~
The officers and star system government reacted to Caroline's arrival as well as the surprise of having a flag officer on board. Some were elated, some not so sure. "At least they didn't bring Moira back," Senator Lars Thurgunsson said. "We can be grateful for that."
"You're just happy about that, I can tell. Tickled pink she's out of your hair and on the big stage. Or I should say, on another stage and no longer in direct competition with you anymore," K'k'R'll, Veraxin president and governor of Bek component A stated. "The truth is, she just left us all in the dust. Her gamble paid off it seems."
The chairman of the industrial oversight committee blinked. "I …"
"What, you were so focused on just seeing her backside you didn't think of that? We just got word in the download she's a shoe-in to be the new Secretary of State," the Veraxin stated succulently. He clacked his mandibles a few times.
Lars frowned thoughtfully then nodded grudgingly. Moira would easily sail through the vetting and confirmation process, whatever that was. Any and all her skeletons were buried here in Bek, safely out or reach of any opponents she made in Antigua. "I honestly didn't see that. Shortsighted I admit. The odds of their surviving to get back …"
"Apparently, they have a good helm team over there. We'll have to take a long hard look at that," the Veraxin stated. "Very carefully."
Lars grimaced. "Yes, sir, that we will."
~<><{<^>}><>~
The government and military downloa
ded the news briefs and plans from Caroline's secure database through a secure whisker laser. It took time for the various staffs to process and digest the petabytes of content. Some members of the government and the Bekian Admiralty were still unhappy about the interloper in their midst.
Admiral Toronto grimaced as he contemplated his glass. He'd been rotated out of his last assignment for a headquarters posting. He hated working at the Admiralty. The closer you got to the seat of power the more byzantine the logic and crap; it gave him headaches. He knew for instance that Georgi was in a power struggle with Admiral Childress. The old dinosaur had clawed his way out of retirement and was working to take control of the navy once more. He knew better than to take sides in that sort of clash between titans. Georgi's delay tactics with the medics were the only thing keeping Childress at bay … and they both knew it wouldn't last forever. "Zek getting implants and keys I get. But this other guy …," the silverback Neogorilla shook his massive head. "He's an outsider and a commodore; what was Admiral Irons thinking??"
"Apparently, he's all they can send?" Vice Admiral Georgi Pashenkov asked. The Neowolf scratched at an itch behind his ear. "Or the easiest to send? Or he's someone they are glad to be rid of? Like Zek?"
"Check that again. According to our most recent download, other than Yorgi Sienkov, there are precisely four other flag officers in the entire Federation! Five if you include Admiral Irons who is currently sitting in the president's chair," the Neogorilla stated. "I'm thinking of transferring if I can arrange it. There is definitely a lot of room for promotion there," he said in an admiring tone. It would get him out of the byzantine politics of the Bekian navy, but he knew his family group wouldn't countersign the move.
"I … where did you see that?" the Neowolf vice admiral asked, setting his glass down.
The Neogorilla silently passed over the file. The vice admiral stared at it dumbly, reading it, and then re-reading it. Admiral Toronto snorted after a moment. "Reading it over and over isn't going to make it untrue."