Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (43 page)

"She isn't?" the commander asked surprised. "Sir, she's going to the
America
!"

The admiral nodded once. "Where she'll be moving on to another unit. It is a
temporary
training billet in RECON. She needs to brush up on her aforementioned space ops skills since she never had the opportunity to put them to use here."

He watched that dig go home. "You may want to think about that. Stop being so obstructionist to your subordinates. It …," he sighed, knowing the signs of obstinacy. "Never mind then. But do consider this," he tapped his rank insignia. "Flag rank carries privileges. I like what I see in the lieutenant, and she happens to fit a position I need filling. See a need, fill a need."

"Round peg in a round hole, where as he …," Protector said for his ears but he grunted and the young A.I. stopped. He watched the commander's face slowly turning red. He didn't need to see his infrared image to see the man had a temper and barely had a lid on it.

He wondered briefly if the man was about to do something monumentally stupid and career ending.

"I think anyone in your current unit could handle the daily run between bases, Commander,” the admiral said mildly.

"Sir with the Lieutenant transferring that leaves me shorthanded …"

"No it doesn't,
you
could do the run, at least until someone else comes along." he said, eyes narrowing. "A new graduating class will be available in two months. I'd suggest you use the run as a simple training run. Rotate it between your pilots so they don't get stale. Consider that an order, Commander."

"Aye aye, sir," the commander ground out, flexing his jaw.

"Anything else?" the admiral asked mildly, almost helpfully.

"No, sir," the commander replied tightly, now at attention.

"Dismissed then. Oh, one more thing," Irons paused as the commander palmed the lock open. "You may want to think about that chain of command thing you mentioned earlier. It goes in both directions.” he waggled a finger to the commander, to himself, and then back again. “Jumping your commander to come directly to me wasn't your wisest option."

The commander flushed, then nodded once. "Yes, sir. I see your point."

"Dismissed then." He waited until the commander had left, and then shook his head, slumping against the rail.

"Where do they find them?" Sprite asked, interjecting herself onto his HUD neatly. “Protector brought me up to speed.”

The admiral eyed her, then turned away, eyes distance. Finally, he exhaled slowly. "It takes all kinds to run a military. He's good at some aspects of his job. We need the bodies to fill the slots I'm afraid. We need to get someone to help him improve himself. He's taking his ire out on his people and that's not good."

"Which you pointed out to him. I bet a centi-cred he'll ignore everything you said and just smart over the way you said it. Getting a dressing down from you is an
interesting
experience."

"I …," he paused, snorting softly. "Yeah, that was a bit much to take in one dose."

"Most likely."

"Hmmm." After a moment the admiral shrugged the concern off. “His problem.” He plucked at his lower lip for a moment though.

"That hmmm sounds ominous," Sprite said warily. She exchanged looks with Protector.

"Oh I was just wondering about Lieutenant Susora, Midshipman Bright-day, and Midshipman what's his name um …"

"Midshipman, and as of tomorrow, newly promoted ensign David Hammerschtel," Protector supplied. He passed the officer's jackets to Sprite to review.

"Right, him. I wonder what sort of team they'd make?” the admiral mused, cocking his head.

"Intel, right?"

"Yes."

"You're … you're wondering about putting them in a recon ship? A
Prowler
? Granted they have some of the mindsets. Hammerschtel is a leader type, Day is an intel puke, and Susora could handle the piloting, but she's a loner. An intel team needs to be close-knit. They practically live in and breathe within a centimeter of each other for months at a time. We'd need a psych review to see if they'd mesh."

"Hmmm."

"And the young lieutenant has no experience in hyper or hyper nav. And the commander had a point. Her math is atrocious."

"An A.I. can handle the mat or smart computer systems. We can get her up to speed on the math. I'm surprised she hasn't done it herself. There are tricks every pilot should know. Programs to have in your implants ready to plug numbers in and all that."

"Blind spot. I'm not sure if it is her lack of literacy skills or test anxiety. I can't tell from her file," Sprite said.

“Shoot her a suggestion e-mail. See if she bites. I'm curious if she's got the right mentality. She is a hell of an instinctive pilot, but she needs to be more.”

“Yes, sir.”

"We're getting off track here though. I'm wondering what sort of team they would make."

"Scout teams take time and experience and are carefully set up, Admiral. They take years to shake down," Sprite cautioned.

"And these three lack seasoning. I know. Ensign Hammerschtel is also lacking in seniority for the command slot as well. Still it is a thought."

"I'll make a note and pass it on to the intel shop for their files, sir," Protector suggested.

"Right, now before we were so rudely interrupted, I was about to ask you about the
Dawning of a New Day
; that seems an odd name for a warship, let alone a battle cruiser."

"Try it in its native Veraxin. She chittered a moment. He blinked. "It was put forward by the Veraxin delegation …"

"Ah, that explains it," he said, bemused. "I should of known." He'd run into that a lot before his, hell their long sleep. Ships were named by many species. Traditionally a ship of a given class followed a formula. For example, a
Dora
class tender had ships with female names. Or as another example, a
Cervidae
class tender had names like
Elk
,
Antelope
,
Moose
, or
Reindeer
. Some were named in Inuit or another native American language just to complicate things further.

More popular ships were named for famous people, places, or objects. Some were based on mythology of a specific species.

There were so many ships, and some names were repeated often so some ships such as
Kiev
had a numerical designation with it as well. Such as
Kiev 221
.

"Committee naming is a bit odd. But it was a request of theirs when Icornia was inducted into the Federation," Sprite said.

"Icornia?" he asked.

A holo of Seti Alpha appeared on his desk. It spun slowly until a triangular shaped continent in the southern hemisphere faced him. The continent was highlighted.

"Small continent on Seti Alpha 4. About the size of Australia. Populated by Veraxins due to its desert condition. I believe other desert dwelling sophonts have started to emigrate there."

"And they became a power because?" the admiral asked carefully.

"World convention. They had the largest organized political block on their planet. Also they have some of the highest levels of education on the planet."

"Ah," he nodded, amused once more.

"Ensign Bright-day is from there I believe."

"Huh."

"The ship has a history, Admiral. The name I mean. It was a name traditionally kept in commission due to its historical significance in several battles."

"Oh." he shrugged. He didn't have a problem with it then. "Okay. Whatever works I suppose.” He knew that some horse trading had to be done to get things done. Naming a ship was minor, and if it cemented support for the navy, all the better. “Just don't expect the crew and others to go by the Veraxin name or the translation easily. I'll bet credits to donuts the crew will come up with a pet name before she goes on her builder's trials."

"Probably," Sprite said amused. "I'm betting
Sunny
or something will be tagged. It's not much different than
Spirit of America
."

Spirit of America
was their first full carrier build. She had finished her builder’s exercises and was working on her working-up exercises. A fleet carrier
Argus
, named after the first carrier created by the ancient British was in the works. The delay to switch from standard carrier to fleet carrier had cost them several months of production time. Hopefully, the larger ships would be worth it in the end Irons thought.

"
Ghost
ship
or the
Dutchmann
. I never did get into names like that," Irons said shaking his head as he continued the conversation. Naming a ship was traditional. It was a way for the crew to bond with each other and their vessel, to show they cared. It was also a sometimes easier name for a ship than say,
Admiral Raymond Spruance
for instance. Though some of the names the crews tended to come up with were downright demeaning from time to time.

"That's because you've had a tendency to line officer or base postings, Admiral, not carrier ops or command."

"True."

“And you're more interested in building and repairing the ships, not manning them.”

“True as well,” he said with a nod.

"We're still having issues with the relief ships designated to go to ET,” Sprite reported. The admiral scowled. “We've got the hospital ship and repair ship, but the tenders are going to have to come from somewhere. There aren't any currently in the pipeline, and even if there were we'd have to wait on them to finish working up. That means we've got to pull them from one of the convoys,” she warned.

He grunted. That was a … well, not a worse fear, but bad enough he supposed. “And their cargo?”

“Still replicating it all. We're also gathering personnel for the hospital ship. Doctor Thornby wanted to go but I forwarded your order for her to stay ashore. She wasn't happy.”

“I imagine not,” the admiral murmured. “We're going to need protection for them. And Phil is right, Centennial probably got hammered in passing.
Again
,” he said darkly.

“Quite possibly,” Sprite said, starting to pull up a ship list.

“I believe you're going to be late for your nine-thirty appointment, Admiral …" Protector warned.

"And it's good to be the admiral. Can't get into trouble for being late," he said smiling as he left the blister.

"Funny, sir. I'll let them know you are on your way," Sprite said dryly. She rolled her eyes to Protector then disappeared.

Chapter
25

“And how are we doing this fine morning?” the admiral asked at the morning staff meeting. He now had multiple staff meetings a week, but the two that were the most important he had every Monday. One was for the navy and the other for the Cabinet. The intelligence briefing he received from Monty was a close third in importance.

“I'd be doing better if you would stop building so many damn ships and stations or at least slow the pace down a bit,” newly promoted First Lieutenant Qr'll'ck said, shaking her Veraxin head in a human mannerism as she watched the admiral take a steaming cup of coffee from the human female steward. He nodded politely to Cookie and then turned back to the group.

“Oh?” Admiral Irons asked, clearly amused.

“It's the small ships as much as the big ones. Manning them is a problem, specifically officers.”

“Oh,” Admiral Irons replied in an entirely different tone. He set the cup down and laid his hands on the table top. “That bad?”

“Bad enough,” the lieutenant stated, clacking her mandibles in her species version of a grimace. She waved a true hand at his expression. “We've got enough personnel in the pipeline to man the ships for the next quarter. But we're going to be short in some places. Not a lot, but a bit. And many of them won't be experienced spacers. In fact, about
half
of our personnel won't be experienced spacers at all. They are coming from agro colonies, Admiral.”

“With no technical background. But data dumps …”

“Can only get you so far, Admiral,” she replied, signaling second-level polite disagreement. “You know experience tells.” He nodded once in agreement. “It takes
time
to get that seasoning. Throwing them at the new construction is a bad idea. They don't know what to look for, the little problems, that sort of thing. We're also pushing our leadership too hard, pushing some up higher than they can handle.”

“Deal with it,” the admiral said flatly.

She clacked her mandibles again but didn't take the flat statement as an insult. “Oh, I am, sir, but I'm letting you know we're opening ourselves up for some problems down the road. Enlisted is less of a problem than the officers however. And finding qualified navigators are a pain in the ass.
Everyone
wants to be a tactical officer.” She rolled her eyestalks in an adopted human expression he recognized.

“It's the fastest way to command track,” Admiral Irons stated. “It has a second duty slot to accrue bridge time,” he said.

“Yes but tactical slot isn't used nearly as much as navigation or engineering. Those are day-to-day jobs. Unglamorous jobs, and in the case of astronavigation, major mental ones.”

“Aren't you rotating the midshipman through each slot in turn? To make sure they get a good feel for each position? They have to handle them all if they want to climb the chain of command,” Nara observed as she entered the room. “Morning Qr'll'ck
,
Admiral,” she said with a slight smile. Admiral Irons looked up and nodded to her. She cocked her head and then smiled to the steward and her silent question of coffee. Mrs. Garrett didn't smile, but she did present the cup with a slight flourish.

“Oh we are. And we're doing it for the ensigns as well. But some are better at one field or gravitate back to it. And we're getting preferences from captains. They want what they want, and they want people they trust in the right slot. Which leaves others wanting … which they of course complain about.”

“Are they passing the tests?” Lieutenant Fletcher asked mildly.

“Of course they are!” Matilda replied, clearly affronted by the A.I.'s inference.

“No offense, Commander,” the A.I. replied.

“Barely,” Qr'll'ck replied. “They could do better. And they aren't getting the time in the other departments like they should. They need more seasoning.” She clacked her mandibles. “Swapping out the ship companies that have settled in for a longer period is what is needed. Some are growing stale; some on the pickets are overdue for a promotion and transfer.”

The admiral frowned thoughtfully. She was describing a turning out, which would help in some ways to distribute the accumulated wisdom but thin it where he needed it.

“Traditionally the ATO is the training officer on a ship, overseen by the XO. We'll have to remind them that their careers are dependent at making sure those skills are kept up-to-date in their students.”

“That's a lovely thought,” Matilda said with a sour look.

“We've had two cases of cheating. JAG is handling it.” Matilda's grimace deepened.

“Great,” Nara drawled, eying her longtime friend to get her to settle down. Matilda took any problems as a personal attack lately. “What about the mustangs? Are they taking up some of the slack?”

“Yes and no,” Qr'll'ck replied slowly. Nara cocked her head slightly and raised an eyebrow at the bug. “Each time we mustang a noncom we lose that leadership position to gain a new one. They can be run through the abbreviated course faster than those that start out in the academy track however, usually six to nine months. But then they have to acclimatize on a ship or instillation. There have been teething issues with applying their rank. None have gone overboard, but a few have had issues,” the Veraxin explained.

“But they are dealing with it. So not really something we need to look into,” Sprite pointed out, moving the topic along. “Do you have a fix in mind?”

“We need to pick one thing. Either the small ships, the stations and fortresses, or the capital ships. The capital ships are rolling out faster than we can man them. You keep picking up the pace,” she turned accusing eyes on Sindri, “without the rest of us being able to do so. I have only so many warm or cold blooded bodies to go around.”

“Sucks to be you,” Sindri said with an indifferent shrug. “We need those ships.”

“A ship is only as good as her crew,” Qr'll'ck retorted, eyes glittering.

“And we can't make up the differences with A.I., not going to happen,” Sprite said as the admiral opened his mouth up. “So, we will have to sail with smaller crew sizes.”

“Short crews means holes in the watch bills,” First Lieutenant Otto Turner warned. He had stepped into Trajan's shoes as bue ops but was woefully light on rank for the position. Unfortunately, they needed every commander and lieutenant commander they could find manning ships and fortress command, Irons thought as the lieutenant stirred his coffee and spoke. “ …Which exhausts the crew over short periods of time and can lead to dangerous situations. I'd rather not see a preventable accident happen. Especially if, it is fatal.”

“Agreed,” Admiral Irons rumbled. “The ships we have in dock for repair or refit. Anything that is going to take more than a week to repair pull the crew.” He saw Sindri's broad nostrils dilate in protest but ignored it. Instead he turned to the department head of BUPERS. He nodded to the female Veraxin. “You can promote and distribute them as needed from there.”

She bobbed a human nod back as she made a note.

“Sir?” Sindri asked, eyes wide in surprise. “That's not going to go over well. It's also going to slow the repairs down,” he warned. “We're also going to undoubtedly run into some ass covering. People who want to stay in their ship will paper over problems to do so. That could be dangerous.”

“Tough. We've been doing it for a while now but with ships that needed a long overhaul like
Damocles
and
Yris'ka'th
. Now that changes. We pull most of the crew, or all of them, and either plug them into the gaps of the new construction or scatter them to new commands. Promote where we can of course. The smaller ships get less of a priority to repair or refit. We'll turn them out when we can.”

“Then rebuild the ships compliments from scratch as a case-by-case basis, sir?” Otto asked. The admiral nodded. “Could work,” he said, glancing at the Veraxin female.

“We're starting to run the refit cycle now for the gunships, corvettes, and frigates that have been in space for a year or longer. That will yank a lot of ships out of space. It will also fill up the docks,” Sindri warned, now peeved. He didn't like leaving those ships just floating there. Not when he could put something else there, something under construction.

John nodded. The crews from those ships were drops in a bucket, especially the gunships. But they would add up since there were so many redundant positions across them all. “I know. And I know it sucks. But we need the capital ships more. You're the one pushing the pace to build super dreadnaughts. This is penance I suppose.”

“Shit,” Sindri replied with some feeling. He should have known getting so excited would have come back to bite him in the ass somehow, someway.

Admiral Irons smiled thinly in sympathy. “Create a reservation area, set up some security, and we'll moor them there. Eventually we'll need a proper reservation area with a docking tube and habitat, but that's for later when we can tidy things up. When we have more time,” he said with a twisted smile. “One way or another we'll figure it out.” He turned to Matilda. “We need to fast track some of your students, the ones who can handle it.”

Matilda nodded. “We have some in the pipeline. We don't hold many back unless there is a significant deficiency in their knowledge or skill base to do so. If they can handle the job …,” she shrugged.

“I know. Look at pushing the next graduating class out a semester early if possible. Skip the flourishes and polishing if you need to. They can pick some of that up as midshipman. We'll have to dial back the midshipman cruises as well. Push the promotions list up a bit.” He turned to the female Veraxin.

“How far?” she asked.

“I'm not sure yet,” the admiral said slowly, eying the personnel officer. “How bad are we looking at?”

“We will be short on the next two battle cruisers. We're already short on two of the carriers. Pilots and maintenance crews were my next point I was going to bring up.”

“I'm guessing everyone wants to be a fighter pilot. They hate the idea of being a trash hauler?” Otto asked with a sniff.

“Got it in one. Flying a tug, anything other than a fighter is unglamorous. Even the bomber crews are unhappy.”

“At least they are getting the opportunity to fly,” Vestri said sourly. “They should be grateful.”

“Oh some are. But they want more.”

“They'll have to be patient. And if they don't have it, then they don't have it. But those that keep applying … see if you can steer them to sims and see what becomes of it,” Admiral Irons said.

“On the idea that if they are determined enough they are worth watching?” Sprite asked.

“Yes. If they've got the drive, we'll give them a chance to prove themselves in simulators before we run them through training. Speaking of which, you are working with Jersey on setting up the pilot programs on Agnosta? MAWTS-1? There, not here?” He was referring to the Marine Aviation, Weapons, and Tactics Squadron, the premier training unit of the Marine aviator; it was the jarhead's equivalent of Miramar's Top Gun. Phil had recently retooled the facility in the San Diego base and was after him for proper trainers as flight instructors.

“The colonel did point out rightly that it is a
Marine
training facility, Admiral. He's got the people there, and the basic facilities setup. He just needs the hardware and instructors,” Matilda explained cautiously.

“I see.” The admiral nodded. “We'll have to pull some people from fleet to serve as instructors. They'll hate it,” he held up a hand to forestall any comments. “But they'll get over it. We'll rotate the duty assignment if necessary to keep their skills fresh. I assume they'll learn the basics on the ground, then we'll have to do something about real world training in space?”

Otto nodded with a frown of foreboding. “Yes, sir. A carrier …”

“Or a space station outfitted to be like a carrier,” Sprite said, interrupting him. Otto looked at the A.I.'s avatar curiously. “They have space-based training facilities already to train the marines in EVA, boarding, and space combat. Why not take it a step further? Build a station that is a flight deck and hangar. Let them do traps on that or better yet, a fortress. Upgrade one of the ones being built at the B452c jump point to full carrier status.”

“It's easier and cheaper than sending them a carrier and tying it down I suppose,” Sindri said in agreement. He nodded when the admiral turned to look his way. “We can ship the components. Skim them off the production lines or hell, out of the warehouses now. We've got a small surplus,” he said checking his implants.

“We do. Your people are two ships ahead on the launchers and traps. The rest is shell and basic gear,” Sprite reported after checking the logistic records ahead of him.

“Then we can handle sending one out,” Sindri said.

“Good.”

“The marines are using mostly enlisted and noncom personnel for pilots,” Otto said thoughtfully. “I don't see why we can't open that up for the various roles here and on the carriers, sir.” he cocked his head as he considered the option carefully from all angles. The admiral's eyes narrowed. His fingers twitched as if to drum on the tabletop but he restrained himself. “I mean, we can mustang them later on a case-by-case basis. But if they have the skills now, let's by all means use them.”

“Look into that. What's next on the agenda?”