by Chris Hechtl
It also confirmed that he was being closely monitored. He'd mentioned the project, but hadn't shown it to anyone beyond a few images. Everyone he'd shown it to had expressed polite interest but hadn't taken it further.
By the turn of the watch, he and Pietro had moved to a different office in the architectural section of the yard. They had no staff; their orders were vague on the subject. He went around turning lights on and checking things out for a bit. He let an elated Pietro off for the evening as he transferred the ship's blueprints into the computer network and then played detective to see how many video cameras and microphones he could find.
He wasn't surprised to find three. He was surprised to find at least three in every office. It begged the question as to why. They had to have a staff monitoring the feed, since they didn't like A.I. That alone told him they had a budget and serious power behind it all.
But again, why? It didn't make sense. But for the moment, he couldn't answer that question so he shut off the computers and lights and then left for a late dinner.
Chapter 30
Horatio called a staff meeting once he had a dozen personnel. He had four enlisted, two of them fresh out of enlisted training. He had two noncom techs, three dispirited naval architects, two yeomen, himself and Olson—five officers, eight enlisted. His own baker dozen of misfits.
He'd put in requests with BuPers to get some of the team. So far the requests had gone unanswered.
“Up until now we've been spinning our wheels. Today that changes,” he said as he turned the holo emitter on the table on. He could tell from the dull looks of some of the personnel that it was going to be a tough sell. Morale was going to be a problem. Everyone knew he was a pariah, and they were resigned or reluctant to help him. Some resented being stuck with him.
“This isn't going to be your ordinary paper study that goes nowhere. Get that through your heads now. We're going to have to find a way to not only build this ship, but also demonstration components leading up to the full scale ship.”
A familiar person raised his hands part ways to get the commodore's attention. “Sir, why a factory tender? Why not a transport? Didn't I hear that we needed them to get personnel and equipment through the rapids that way?” Lieutenant Olson asked as his hand dropped.
Horatio nodded. “Good point. The good news is we're building a modular design here. I have many of the blueprints memorized or in my implants,” Horatio said. “That includes the Dora, Liberty, and Cervidae classes. We're effectively shooting for a Liberty class using as much native built parts as we can get away with,” Horatio said. He replaced the image of the tender with a Liberty class. The ship slowly spun in place.
“A Dora is too small, though it would be a nice test bed. A Cervidae is too large; we'd never get funding. A ship the size of a Liberty, with most of the same specs, is just right. But we're going to have to improvise as I said.”
“Goldilocks,” Lieutenant Nadir Holbar murmured. Lieutenant Nadir was one of the three naval architects and the only one that was human. The other two were Lieutenant Commander Dreamer of Ships and Ensign Ashanti. Ensign Ashanti was fresh out of the academy and was still attending college. The Neolioness was young but eager, while the other two architects had a more sullen fatalistic attitude about them.
Dreamer of Ships was one of the best in BuShips but he was surly with a string of insubordination marks in his record. He was too good to fire, but he'd been passed over for promotion so often that he was on his way out as of the next cycle. He also had nowhere to go; scuttlebutt said he'd pissed off a lot of the civilian contractors.
Horatio could understand where the T'clock was coming from. He also appreciated that he was blunt. But he was a bit too pessimistic. Some pessimism was a good thing; it grounded the pie-in-the-sky people and forced them to see the worst case scenario as well as the best. But too much could poison a team.
Hopefully, maybe, he'd regain a sense of balance and a fresh commitment to his chosen profession. Horatio had seen what the bug had been ripped up about; he'd been right in every instance … just completely undiplomatic about pointing it out.
Fine. He could work with that he thought. He realized all eyes were on him and cleared his throat.
“Right,” Horatio replied with a nod. “I'd shoot for a Liberty clone, but I doubt we'd be able to build her from the keel up. So we're going the hybrid route. We'll make her as modular as possible. That way we can leave out the replicators and machine shops and turn future builds into freighters, hospital ships, or transports,” he explained.
“The good news is, we can use them to run cargo and people to Bek B,” Lieutenant Olson said. That earned a startled murmur from the group. Bright eyes stared at him. The young man shrugged. “Think about it. A three-week trip in sublight can be shortened to what, a day?” he asked, glancing at the commodore.
“A couple of hours actually,” Horatio said with a nod. “You don't even need to get up to the high octaves. The first octave of Alpha would cut the journey time tremendously,” he explained.
“Right. So with faster ships it cuts transit time down for information, materials, and personnel,” Lieutenant Olson said.
“We're going to break the ship down by components. Don't focus on the impossible of one problem or we'll never get anywhere,” Horatio cautioned.
“Can we do it, sir? We don't have the parts. We barely have a budget!” Commander Dreamer of Ships said, clearly exasperated and already stressed by the big picture. His antenna flicked in agitation.
“Will they even let us take this far?” Lieutenant Holbar asked, eyeing him. Ashanti's bright gold eyes seemed to dim as her brows knit and her ears went back in concern.
“Let me worry about the last. For now, take your focus off the big picture and finished product. Start by small steps. Baby steps. Small problems. Knock them down one by one. For instance, we have ODN conduit in quantity,” he said. He used a pointer to pull up a list and then check that item off the list.
“ODN and most of the fittings, sir. The processors and electronics need work to be updated,” Nadir suggested, playing along.
“Right. But as they stand we can check off communications and a good chunk of the electronics suite,” Horatio said, doing so.
Lieutenant Olson nodded. He was clearly starting to pick up some excitement. “Plumbing is the same,” he said, using a finger to check that off. “Seating, bunks … Thermal though …” he frowned. “I'm not sure there.”
Horatio put a question mark on that item.
“Light, air, yeah, life support is easy,” Dreamer of Ships suggested. “I can do them in my sleep.”
“We could do with some improvements. Minor things save energy. Over an entire ship that's a big thing to the power budget,” Nadir suggested. She looked at the commander. The bug twitched his antenna. She turned her attention on their boss. “I've seen some of what is considered modern. I think we can make some changes there. I know everyone would love to get their hands on better sublight drives and fusion reactors.”
Horatio nodded. “Good.” He jotted that down in a side note.
Nadir's dark brown eyes brightened as she snapped her fingers. “Whatever changes we do make, if we do them right, they can plug into existing ships. So they too can get upgraded,” she said. She turned to Horatio. “There is a selling point there, sir.”
“So this isn't an entire waste of time and an exercise in futility,” the T'clock commander said with a nod. “Okay,” he drawled. “Sensors …”
“Leave them out for now,” Horatio suggested. “Off the shelf will work in some cases, but we might be able to make some improvements.”
“So, plasma conduits … no, modern is better …,” the T'clock said, clearly nettled by the distinction, but starting to get into the mood.
“Don't get an inferiority complex. We might have to go stock initially, and then plug in more modern gear later. We'll see what works and what doesn't. Like I said, this project relies on using as much stoc
k hardware as we can get away with,” Horatio said. Heads nodded.
“Yeah, I can see us doing this, at least most of it. That leaves the gravitic nodes, hyperspace sensors, and hyperdrive though,” Dreamer of Ships said.
“Those … I admit we might have to get off the shelf,” Horatio said slowly. “I don't know if any of the former starships are still around. If they are, we might be able to pull the components and recondition them. Baring that we can see about what Caroline brought in with her.”
“And if they don't work, sir?” Nadir asked, eyeing him.
“Then we switch to plan C,” Horatio replied.
“Plan C, sir?” Ashanti asked; ears erect expressing her curiosity.
“We make them. From scratch if necessary. I've worked on enough in my day, and I know we've got a couple hyperspace engineers and PHDs running around this star system.”
The Neolioness nodded.
“Now, let's break down the other pieces of equipment. Commander, you know the life support, can you identify the minor sections we could update and modernize? As I said, small steps,” Horatio said as the T'clock bobbed a human style nod with his massive head.
“Okay,” Horatio said, turning to the others. “Nadir, I read in your file that you have some plasma conduit design experience as well as reactor experience. Start there. Start by familiarizing yourself with modern equipment. Take notes on what you think we can apply to present hardware.”
“Do we have access to those files, sir?” Nadir asked.
“Yes,” Horatio replied with a smile. “We've got a small server. You've all been on it. Up until this point, we've been settling in and you've been finishing off old projects. Now we begin.” He turned to Ashanti. “I realize you lack experience Ensign, but I'm going to throw you in the deep end.”
“Yes, sir,” she said, visibly gulping.
“Not as deep as you may think actually. I'm not going to give you an impossible task. I want you to look into the sublight drive issue. Compare it in block form to modern sublight drives. Try to identify systems we can bring over.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Each of you has a week to get on those projects. We don't have a timetable as of yet, so just basic deadlines. I'd like to see some forward progress though by the end of the month,” he said.
“This month sir or …,” CPO V'v'n asked. The Veraxin like many of the enlisted had remained silent during the presentation and discussion. He knew from his file that the bug had good solid hands-on experience in the machine shops as well as most of the engineering departments. That might come in handy when it came time to prototype demonstration models.
“A standard month from today,” Horatio said heavily. They stiffened. “I realize you are used to months or years getting the job done and bigger staffs. We're lean and mean. Don't get bogged down in the nuts and bolts. Stick to the main systems,” he said. He turned and pulled up a flow chart of a ship's systems. “We break them down individually, and then build on them. We'll get there.”
“Yes, sir. What sort of progress do you want to see though? A full ship schematic is a bit much,” Dreamer of Ship's said cautiously.
“Well, as to that,” Horatio tapped the controls of the holographic projector again. A silver blob came up and pulsed. “I'd like you all to meet another member of our team. Technically, he isn't a he, and he's not official. This is Mercury. He is a prototype engineering tool Admiral Irons created and then passed on to me. He's going to help us out immensely,” he said.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Admiral Hill heard the recording of Horatio's meeting. The idea was outlandish, most likely impossible, but she couldn't help but be intrigued by it. She tried to bring it up at the next senior staff meeting, but Admiral Childress had been impatient and had shut her down.
Instead she'd run the whole idea, including the recording, past Admiral Draken later that day. She'd been surprised when the Ops admiral had agreed to Horatio's workman-like approach to the problem. “I see where he's going with this. It's a good selling point,” Admiral Draken said with a nod. “I don't think Omar or anyone else has thought about that angle. Just the A to B skips alone would bring both components closer together. We'd be able to provide news and orders …,” Admiral Draken nodded.
“So we're not going to interfere?” the Neochimp admiral asked carefully.
“We do not,” the Red Chimera said with a shake of his head. “In fact, we're going to support them.”
“Sir?”
“Trust me. Omar's tied up in making sure he has complete control of the navy. He won't miss this.”
“If you say so, sir,” Admiral Hill said dubiously.
“It'll work out. Believe me; by the time they get this ship design worked out, he'll be on board. By the time it is built, he'll take the credit.”
Patty nodded cautiously. She was reminded of the old saying, “It is easier to ask for forgiveness than permission.” It was a dangerous move though, one that could turn around and bite them in the ass. The best way to be forgiven was to let your boss take credit however.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Omar shook his head as he looked at the future. The clean bloodless coup he'd arranged was turning into a quagmire of personal vendettas and barely seen character assassinations. A lot of people knew their career and the future of the navy was riding on his efforts. No one was dumb enough to come out overtly against him, which meant he had to keep an eye on those who could sabotage his efforts.
He was more and more distracted by the problem within his own ranks and lacked an easy fix to the problem. He doubted a true easy fix even existed.
Admiral Draken had Ops; Admiral N'r'm'll had BuPers. Admiral C'v'll was the academy commandant. Brigade General Sharif Yetmister was in charge of the marines, but the Neogorilla hardly mattered in the greater scheme of things.
Rear Admiral Bolt had control of Bulogistics, Rear Admiral Toronto was back in Fortress command but keeping an eye on things in Command 1, and Rear Admiral Sharp Reflexes was in charge of the Carriers.
Rear Admiral Hill was still in charge of ONI, at least that was until Vice Admiral Ss'k'ttthhh was finished with his antigeriatric treatments. Getting the Naga admiral onto his team had taken a lot of diplomacy. He'd been tempted to just can him, but the snake knew where too many bodies were buried. Firing him would have started a nuclear exchange that would have devastated the navy and caused a huge black eye that he didn't want.
Once he returned to service, the vice admiral would be the only one of his senior staff to get the treatments, which was another problem. He had promised to get his retired supporters back in service with full antigeriatric treatments, as well as treatments for a selection of their supporters to cement his control. He'd intended to place them where he wanted, including replace Admiral Creator of Things in BuShips. Instead, he'd been dealt a setback in that part of his plan.
He'd found out that Admiral Pashenkov or someone in Bumedical had used up most of the antigeriatric treatments on flag officers and captains while he'd still been going through the various steps to get his commission reactivated. He was furious about the situation. That had taken a major carrot out of his hands and given it to someone else. An enemy most likely people allied with Georgi.
None of the officers who had undergone the treatments were fully in his camp either; he knew it despite their assurances to do their duty. He wasn't certain who some of them were backing. A few were obviously in the Neowolf's camp.
He had planned to punish the Neowolf to make an example out of him, but the wolf had gone on an extended leave the same day Omar had kicked him out of office. According to N'r'm'll, Georgi had nearly a year's leave on the books, so he'd be gone awhile. That was fine; when he did come back he'd find the smallest, nastiest, out-of-the-way posting for him. Drop him there and forget he ever existed. Somewhere cold, an ice moon posting maybe, he thought.
According to Bumedical, they only had three treatments left, but not for any of his people. Vice Admira
l Fohad Amir couldn't receive it; the man was on his third cloned liver. He couldn't stop the booze and had been banned on receiving a fourth.
Nor could he get a treatment to Admiral Latiff Revere or Open Eyes as promised. The two retired officers had stopped calling to find out when they were going to get their treatments. They probably thought he'd used and then discarded them. Essentially he had but not because he'd wanted to do so. His hands were tied.
The lack of more antigeriatric treatments meant he didn't have enough to do his supporters, and they all wanted what was left. They were even jockeying for it amongst themselves. And to top that off, his wife was on his ass about it. She was threatening a divorce, which wouldn't look good on his record. She was barely speaking to him, which was fodder for the gossip squad.
He couldn't give her the treatments. Irons had reinforced that order. The first order had been made public by Admiral Pashenkov; the treatments were for incentives to career military personnel. He agreed in theory; there had to be some incentive to put the uniform on. But it made his home life a living hell.
Not being able to keep his promise to his supporters and his wife was severely undercutting his credibility. None had left his camp yet, but the bitterness was plain when he saw their slow reaction time to his orders. Kicking them when they were down would just hasten their leaving.
He rubbed his brow. Irons had also put a freeze on promotions for anyone above captain's grade, which was a problem. Everyone captain's grade and up had to be run through him and his office for final approval. There went another carrot out of his dwindling supply. He couldn't ignore the order since it had come in on Caroline's first arrival and was public knowledge. In fact, that had been one of the reasons he'd managed to get people to back his power play.
~<><{<^>}><>~
Building the tender turned out to be a little more complicated than Horatio had expected. He'd been in on the design of multiple ships, so he knew how the process worked. They were streamlining the design spiral however.