by Adam Gaffen
Tamara’s hologram smiled. “My miners will be happy about that. Move an asteroid, not have to dig out the materials, and get paid?”
“Diana, animate it.” The rotating hologram started changing. “As demand grows, we expand to meet it, which increases supply, which should spur more exploration and more demand. Eventually we’ll have to start building the rest of the ships we’ll need, like bulk carriers and transports, which is another reason for the Forge. Those ships have to be civilian, not Starfleet, and they’re going to be huge. We’re talking a dozen kilometers long, maybe, for the tankers, and we can’t build them inside Njord.”
“Oh,” said a now-mollified Hecate.
“My estimate is six months for initial operations to commence,” Diana said. “Once functional, the Forge should be self-sustaining.”
The Forge blinked out, replaced by another figure.
“What in the name of Maeve is that?” said Whitmore.
“That is an Explorer-class Colonization cruiser,” Kendra replied with more than a touch of pride.
The ship was broad and long, with a triangular nose, two appendages which looked like pontoons amidships, and a blocky stern.
“It looks familiar,” Whitmore mused.
“Well, I may have been inspired by one of my shows,” Kendra admitted. “But it’s totally different on the inside.”
“How big?”
“Four kilometers long, two wide, nine hundred meters to her keel.”
“Why?”
“Colonization. This ship will be capable of carrying all the equipment, raw materials, livestock, personnel, and ships needed to seed a new colony in a single trip.”
“Is it a generation ship?” asked Kyran.
“No, warp-capable. Slow as hell out of warp, but she won’t need to be fast. Unarmed, too, except for her parasite craft. These,” and she pointed to the pontoons. “These are landing and launch bays. Imagine the shuttlebay on Endeavour, combined with the Njord launch system, and then expanded.”
“What’s underneath?”
“Ah. That’s part of Diana’s genius. We can attach a fabricator to her underside, between the bays, and transport it whole to the new system. Then the colony will really have a leg up.”
“You don’t think small, do you?” Kyra was admiring the design.
“No. No point. Small dreams lead to small realities. And this, Hecate, is gonna be your baby.”
“Me?” squeaked the AI.
“You. You’re in charge of construction of the lead ship in the class.”
“But I can’t handle that much!” she said. “I can manage the bay, sure, and the construction we’re doing now, but I’m really pretty stretched as is, and I don’t have the cycles to do more.”
“I think we have a solution for you. Diana? Would you like to tell her?”
Hecate’s avatar turned to Diana’s.
“We’re upgrading you to an Alpha processor,” said the AI without preamble, and Hecate’s face split into a huge grin.
“An ALPHA?”
“Yes, Hecate,” assured Kendra with a nearly matching grin. “Diana and Mac have been working on figuring out how to do the transfer, and they finally managed it yesterday. We have a brand new, out of the box Alpha core mounted with enough molycirc to give you as many cycles as Harpo.”
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeee!” she squealed. “I never dreamed, I mean, wow, this is amazing!”
“The question, Hecate,” Kendra said, cutting through the squeeing.
“Yes?”
“The question, Hecate, is will this be sufficient to manage the increased construction volume and tempo?”
“Oh, yes, absolutely, Admiral! I mean, Diana could almost manage it now along with the habitat, Alphas are so much more capable, and I’m glad she hasn’t taken over, but I won’t let you down, I promise!”
“Good. Then you won’t have any issues with the next project, either.” Diana caught the cue and the image changed a third time.
“And what is that?” said Kyra. “It looks a little like the Artemis assault shuttles.”
It was true; there was a resemblance, but where the assault shuttles were blocky, this was sleek and streamlined.
“Sort of. It’s a new class of ship which we’re rolling out: the Coyote scoutship.”
“A scoutship? Why?” asked Whitmore. “I thought the starships were for exploration, the Wolves for utility work, and the Direwolves for defense.”
“They are. But this gets to my long-range planning, Colonel.” Whitmore heard her rank and looked more closely. Kendra might be new to military-style protocols, preferring informality whenever possible, but Whitmore had realized Kendra was actually quite skilled at manipulating those protocols. She simply chose whether or not to use them, and not at a whim as it might appear at first. When she used someone’s rank it was Kendra’s, no, the Admiral’s, way of saying, “This is important. Pay attention.”
Whitmore did.
“The Coyote will be warp-capable, with a fourth-generation drive. According to Val this drive is both smaller and more efficient than anything we’ve mounted to date. They’ll be as fast as Enterprise but with a power requirement half that of the Defiant. Part of that is the smaller ship, but mostly it’s design refinements. All of which means we can put a warp drive into a ship that’s only a little bigger than a Wolf, which is important. I love the Wolves, but they’re utility ships these days. No offense, Flashdance.”
The CAG, who had been feeling quite left out, focused on Kendra. “None taken, Admiral.”
“Wolves are great little ships, but they’re purely in-system ships, and sublight at that. It would take half of forever to properly survey a system in a Wolf, or even with a whole squadron, and we’re going to be hard-pressed to supply enough to the colonies as it is for utility work.”
“The Coyotes get used for system survey?”
“That’s one use, yes. With their warp drive they can cover more space and complete the surveys faster, which means if there’s a rogue asteroid which will smack into our colony in five years we might actually find out in time to do something. The systems that we can colonize will have a bunch of other planets, asteroids, and cosmic junk. Tying up a starship to poke around the details of 40 Eridani, for example, makes no sense.”
She nodded at Diana, and the image was replaced by a starfield.
“This is the local group. All the stars within five hundred light years, or six days’ cruise for Endeavour.”
She nodded again, and green lights appeared around a number of the stars.
“This represents stars which we believe may have habitable planets. As you can see, there’s quite a number of them, but they’re unevenly spaced. These will be initially scouted by starships, followed by Coyotes, and then, if suitable, an Explorer. As you can see, for every one habitable system, though, there are probably a dozen uninhabitable.”
Another nod, and the rest of the stars lit red.
“We don’t want to waste time on the primary wave of exploration with these systems. Oh, I’m sure they’re fascinating, from the scientific side, but to get the people excited we need to be living places, not just visiting. This is where the Coyotes will really shine.”
“I get it,” said Flashdance. “We establish hubs at the colonies, and send the Coyotes out to do the rest of the local exploring.”
“Local being a relative term, yes. A dozen light years or so,” agreed Kendra. “Send an Explorer out, loaded to the gills, and launch a bunch of Coyotes out to poke around the neighborhood.”
“What sort of crew will the Coyotes have? And whose command will they fall under, Colonel Whitmore or me?” asked Shannon.
“Excellent question,” Kendra said. “Minimum crew is one; they’re designed to have an integral Beta AI to handle most of the routine functions, much like the Epsilons in the Direwolves. Optimal crew is four, and maximum crew is eight.”
“Weaponry?” Whitmore asked.
“A pair of 1 mW lasers,
under the cockpit on a moveable mount. Coating of CeeSea for defense, plus the same shielding as on a Defiant.”
“Well,” said Whitmore. “Much as I’d love to have a few dozen of these, I think they fall more under the jurisdiction of the CAG.”
“One more question, Admiral.”
“Sure, Flashdance.”
“When do they come into service?”
“Well, there’s the rub. We need test pilots before we can get them approved, and then we’ll need to convert those test pilots into IP’s, and without stealing too badly from our current forces.” Kendra turned her best sensie-star smile on Shannon. “Any suggestions, Commander?”
“I’ll have a list to you in a day. Mmm, make that the end of the week. Might shake up the existing squadrons a bit, though.”
“They’re your people for a reason, Flashdance.”
“Any other surprises, Admiral?” Whitmore said.
“Let’s see. Vulcan’s Forge, Explorer, Hecate’s upgrade, Coyotes. Oh, yes. One more.”
“When do you have time to do all this?” mused Whitmore.
“I don’t sleep much; never have. Turns out it’s one of the little bennies of my heritage. So I spend the extra time planning. Drives Cass nuts.”
“I wonder why,” Flashdance said, grinning.
“Anyways. Davie.”
“Admiral?”
“I need you.”
“Anything, Admiral.”
“Good. Diana, official Starfleet log. Colonel Davie Whitmore promoted to Admiral, Starfleet Defense. Admiral Kendra Cassidy transferred to Starfleet Exploration while retaining overall command.”
“Logged. Congratulations, Admiral Whitmore.”
Whitmore, whose eyes had gone wider and wider through the exchange, exploded.
“Oberon blast you, Kendra, you sandbagged me!”
“You’re right. But I also realized, when Cass and I had to be separated, that I needed to turn over the running of this war to a professional. You.”
“You’re not leaving me holding the bag!”
“No, Admiral, I’m not. I wouldn’t. With the warp buoys in place in all our systems I’m reachable if you really want to consult with me for some reason. Can’t imagine why; you’ve probably forgotten more about large-scale combat than I’ll ever know.”
“Not to appear too full of myself, but your logic is sound.”
“So again, from me this time. Congratulations, Admiral.”
This time Whitmore said, “Thank you, Admiral. I assume I have a free hand on filling out my staff?”
“Of course. You have someone in mind for your exec?”
“Yes. Jill McKnight; she’s been part of the staff since Diana, from what Kyran says, and she’s got the breadth of experience I need.”
“Oh, I know her. Good choice.”
“Diana, let Jill know I’d like to see her in my office in a half hour?”
“Certainly, Admiral.”
“And prepare a uniform for her with her new rank.”
“Of course, Admiral. What rank?”
“Colonel.”
Flashdance, looking back and forth between them, said, “You two need another rank. Fleet Admiral, or something. Reduce confusion.”
Kendra and Davie both laughed.
“We’ll work something out,” said Kendra. “Unless there’s anything else?”
Nobody spoke.
“Good. Admiral Whitmore, mind the shop.”
“Where are you going?”
“I’ve got a Direwolf I need to practice in.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cislunar Space
Stardate 12008.16
“I’m glad you agreed,” said Stone to Newling.
“I didn’t think we had much choice, and as much as I hate to leave my people, you’re absolutely correct.”
“Always nice to hear. About what?”
“Needing to meet Kendra, and the timing. If my cousin is going to try anything sneaky against our people, it’s going to be soon, and I’m going to be busier than I am now.”
She glanced about her, looking for eavesdroppers, but the Wolf was relatively empty. Only one of her new bodyguards was accompanying her, and he was professionally ignoring their conversation. Stone had vetoed any other members of the rebellion joining them, which left just a single Marine in the back, returning to Njord with a broken leg for medical treatment.
“What can you tell me about her?” she asked, quietly.
“What d’ye mean?”
“What is she like? Oh, I read the bio, but it doesn’t tell me anything about Kendra Cassidy, the person.”
“Ah. Well, when I met her –”
“Attention, in-bound Wolf, identify yourself,” came a voice over the internal speakers.
“This is CM Adams on the Zhukov; identify yourself!”
“Direwolf 1314 on intercept course.”
“1314?” asked Stone. There was something familiar about the voice, but why wasn’t the Direwolf assigned to a squadron?
The same question apparently occurred to Hangover, and she was comming the Njord.
“Njord, Zhukov.”
“Go ahead, Zhukov.” Stone thought this was Colona, but she couldn’t be sure.
“I have a Direwolf demanding identification.”
“That would be the CAP, Zhukov.”
“Negative, Njord, not the CAP, not part of a squadron.”
“Huh? They’re all part of a squadron?”
“She identified herself as Direwolf 1314, Njord. Please advise.”
“Hold one, Zhukov.”
There was a long moment of silence.
“Zhukov, be advised, Direwolf 1314 is piloted by Admiral Cassidy.”
“What?” exclaimed Stone and Adams at the same time.
“She’s a fighter pilot?” said Newling.
“Not last I knew,” Stone answered, reaching out with her ‘plant.
Kendra, what are you doing?
Oh, hi, Mikki, are you on the Wolf?
Yes. Why are you in a Direwolf?
I learned how to fly; they’re a blast! I’ll escort you in.
You learned to fly.
Yeah! I was bored. Wait a minute, Njord is messaging.
“Apparently she was bored,” Stone said to Newling.
“Bored.”
“Yes.”
Newling shook her head. “And I thought my family’s eccentric.”
WOLVES AND DIREWOLVES had different bays within the larger landing bay which comprised the top third of Njord.
Kendra ignored it, pacing the Zhukov all the way to touchdown before pirouetting and settling in on the port side of the larger Wolf. The bay had barely repressurized when her canopy popped open and she was climbing down, fully dressed in what looked to be proper gear. Stone and Newling watched, waiting for their airlock to open.
The OutLook agent exited first and immediately dropped into a fighting stance when he saw the unexpected figure.
“Whoa, whoa, stand down,” placated Kendra, raising her hands to her shoulders. “At ease. Mikki, a little help!”
“Maybe you shouldn’t jump the queue, Admiral,” Stone said, putting just a hint of emphasis on the rank. The agent relaxed and took a place next to Newling who had moved slowly onto the deck.
“Thank you; I’ll keep that in mind. Hi!” Kendra turned to beam at Newling. “I’m Kendra. I run this lash-up, despite all my efforts to get out of it. And you are?”
“Surprised? You’re nothing like I expected,” Newling answered.
“I have that effect on people,” Kendra said. “Hi Mikki. What brings you back?”
“Her,” said Stone, pointing to Newling. “Admiral Kendra Cassidy, I’d like you to meet Autumn Newling.”
“Damn. Sorry, Autumn, I should have recognized you from your avatar.” She stuck out her hand. “Welcome to Njord.”
Newling tentatively stuck hers out and grasped Kendra’s, nearly toppling in the process.
“Whoa!”
Kendra caught her and steadied her. “Diana, reduce gravity in the bay to Luna normal!”
Newling straightened as the gravity lessened. “Thank you. I didn’t know you could do that.”
“We can do lots of things people don’t expect,” said Kendra. “I think the first order of business is a visit to sickbay and get you an implant and a booster.”
“Booster?” This was moving far too quickly for Newling.
“Protect you against disease and give your nanobots a head start. Can’t have the first leader of Free Luna dying from a cold.”
“Nanobots?”
“Relax; it doesn’t hurt. Diana, adjust gravity as needed between here and sickbay.”
“Yes, Admiral.”
“Diana? Is that...?”
“The station AI. A friend of Mike’s.” This was the right thing to say, as some of the panic left Newling’s face.
“Don’t worry,” Stone said as they started to move towards the hatch. “It’s quick and easy, just like I told you. Your jaw will ache for a couple days, but nothing a basic painkiller won’t fix, and then you’ll be good to go.”
“So, Autumn. Nice to meet you, finally. Sorry if I scared you, but I saw the Wolf coming up from Luna and couldn’t resist.”
“Why were you out in a Direwolf again?” asked Stone.
“I told you, I was bored, so I learned how to fly one. They’re lots of fun. Oh, Autumn, I have a second seat. If we have time, I can take you out for a quick run. Whaddya say?”
Stone spoke first.
“I think you should let the lass get her bearings before you shoot into space with her.”
“Fine, fine. What about you, Mikki?”
“Oh, no. I’m not climbing into a ship you’re piloting. I rode with you in the Bugatti, remember?”
Kendra didn’t have a quick reply for that.
“HOW DO YOU FEEL?”
She opened her eyes. Pity; she’d been quite enjoying her nap.
The doctor; well, she assumed he was a doctor. He was in what she recognized as official Starfleet uniform, with blue highlights. Whoever he was, he peered into Newling’s eyes, checking for reactions.
“Pretty good. My jaw hurts.”
This drew a sniff from the doctor. “Naturally. Your implant has been placed in the left side of your mandible. That’s your lower jaw,” he added with a note of disdain.