Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (44 page)

BOOK: Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage
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---<>))))

Lieutenant Qr'll'ck sent Admiral Irons an email a day later. He opened it and nodded as he scanned the contents. “So the band-aid will work. It'll only cost us in operational terms,” he murmured thoughtfully.

“You know that ship crews that are loyal to each other and their ships will defer maintenance to stay together, Admiral,” Protector warned.

The admiral raised an eyebrow. That was an unusual observation from the A.I.

“I don't see a problem,” he finally said. “If they push it too far, they'll know there will be hell to pay. Their lives are riding on the line. I know Vestri will be a bit put out over losing the personnel however. Borrowing from Peter and Paul and all that of course.” He smiled slightly. He knew that Vestri had been using the ship's compliments … especially their engineering compliments to get ships out of dock quicker. Or borrowing them to work on some of the new construction. Many hadn't gotten any liberty or leave time while their ship was in dock. Still, there hadn't been many complaints. At least not from those who had gotten a peek at the new construction at any rate.

Those that had complained had gotten an extra marker in their jacket for an extended liberty later. Everyone involved received some sort of a pay bonus, but those that had protested were dropped to the bottom of the list for slots in the new construction. He was curious about what Vestri would say when he found out that the bonuses were going to come out of his budget from now on. No more creative bookkeeping or shell games with the other departments. He'd gotten just a little too cute and smug about pushing the ships out that way.

Part of it was the captains too. No captain wanted their ship in dock longer than necessary. It looked bad in their record, and there was always that nagging helpless feeling. He got that, but their people needed downtime as well. Burning both ends of the candle worked for people like himself. Others … well, hell, even he deserved a break now and again!

He was fairly confident Otto and Matilda didn't mind the pace; most likely they were actively supporting it. They wanted the ships out in space to train and to man the jump points. But the constant space exposure and wear and tear on the equipment wasn't something they could ignore nor the wear on personnel.

“I think we can worry less about this. If these numbers are right, we'll have less ships but we'll have the larger ships on the line working up. We'll also have experienced crews for them as well.”

“Which means the smaller ships will be a reserve force? One the navy can man on an adhoc basis?” Otto asked.

“Exactly. In a pinch we can run a small ship with a crew of three or four. Ships with a dumb or smart A.I. can run with that easily, though they won't be able to jump. A gunship is moot there anyway.” The group nodded or signaled understanding. “It's risky, but in a crisis, it will work.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And we can do something about manning them at a later date. Say put someone who had been recently promoted in charge of them with a greenhorn crew. A couple of veterans to pass on knowledge and that's it. We can keep them here or at least local to gain experience.”

“That might work, sir.”

“And the best thing is we can draw on them again as needed. Yes, I think this will work,” the admiral said with a nod. I'm not sure about losing the platforms though.”

Less ships meant less platforms to distribute around the growing Federation of course. It also meant less platforms for people to accrue seasoning quickly. But it concentrated them in survivable platforms. Going into combat in a gunship, corvette, or frigate against a cruiser was tantamount suicide. He'd lost too damn many good people in Protodon that way. The admiral inhaled then exhaled slowly. “Crisis adverted, or at least contained. Next problem?”

---<>))))

“Now see here, Commander, what did I do? Nothing as far as I am concerned, nothing wrong! I shouldn't be punished for routine maintenance! Is the navy so hard up on ships that we're supposed to stay out past the safety ratings? You can see the engine has a micro fracture in it! That's thermal shock,
not
my fault!”

“Lieutenant …,” Lieutenant Commander V'ch'k was a deputy supervisor on the docks, holding down an entire sector during his shift. He didn't know why they'd dumped this little bit of bad news on his shoulders but the brass had done it or the irate officer had come to him first when no one else was ready to listen.

He didn't care. He just wanted to get it over and done with so he could focus on the next problem that urgently wanted his attention.

The lieutenant's eyes flashed. “I'm a ship's captain …”

“On board. And no, not right at this moment you aren't.
Lieutenant
,” the Veraxin stated. The lieutenant froze and then moved to stand at attention. “Better. As I was saying, this isn't anything to do with your performance.”

“So … why, sir?”

“You and your crew are going to be transferred.”

“Transferred? To some barge?” The human seemed to swell in indignation.

“As it happens, no. You're being promoted to lieutenant commander. Congratulations,” the bug said. “We're giving you
Warrior's Creed
. She's an
Arboth
class destroyer nearly completed.” and wasn't he glad he could hand that ship off to a crew now, he thought.

“Sir?” the newly minted lieutenant commander blinked in astonishment. “But … my crew …”

“You just got done working them up. I know. I've heard it before. A lot lately actually, given the new orders that have just been cut. Your crew will go through the promotion cycle too. Some will move on to other commands. You'll get the pick of what is left to form your new ship's company. I hope your reports are up-to-date and accurate.”

“I … see, sir,” Commander O'Toole replied thoughtfully. He was still wrestling with the idea of the promotion. Going from a gunship to a destroyer was ludicrous. But it was a hell of a jump! And he had to admit, he was overdue. He'd stuck to ole
Beta Betty
‘cause he had loved the gal and had a close-knit crew.

“Don't take it so hard. It's a ship. You're getting another. A bigger ship. A bigger crew. Promotion.”

“It's a tough call, sir.”

“You've grown used to your current role. You have been complacent. That state ends now. We need you to focus on the future.”

“Aye aye, sir. I think.” He scratched the back of his head thoughtfully.

The Veraxin eyed him. “You can handle it?”

The human grunted, then nodded once, straightening his shoulders. “I'll give it my best shot, sir.”

“That's the spirit.”

“Sir, about
Beta 441
…,” he eyed the bug. “What's going to happen to her?” he asked warily.

The Veraxin recognized the tone and intent. Many crew members became rather attached to their ships. He saw it as a home but one of metal and plastic that could and should be replaced as needed. They had too much sentiment however. “She's not going to be listed for disposal if that is what you are worried about. She might be picked over for parts for a while, but we need every ship so we'll get her sorted out and back into space eventually,” the commander said, knowing where the question was leading. “You aren't the first one to ask about their ship by the way. It serves you well. Now extend that same love and courtesy to your new command, Captain.”

The human nodded briefly. “Thank you, sir. I will.”

“Good. Get going. Most of your crew are on liberty. Dismissed with my compliments,” the commander said, exchanging salutes with the lieutenant commander.

Once the Commander was gone, the bug sat down on his saddle. “Another one done. That's the third today. I hope we're done soon.”

---<>))))

First Lieutenant Jory Gray grinned at his shiny new insignia on his collar, then to the toys he had in his office. He was thoroughly enjoying his job with BuShips. He'd thought he'd miss being in a reactor room but no. All the classes at the college had also paid off; he was a ship designer, something he'd only dreamed about.

No more roof repair for him! He shivered slightly. No more rickety scaffolding, ancient chimneys, rotten wood … nope. He had a nice clean office, desk covered in model ships, components, holographic projectors, vid screens and the like, and a headache every evening. But it was still awesome.

His eyes turned to the model of the
Fletcher
and then to the
Victory
and
Liberty
models.
His
designs. Oh, the admiral had put his two cents worth in, and his A.I. Proteus had been a major helping hand with it all. A few specialists here and there had also contributed a bit. But
he'd
been the one to push them through the design process, to baby and nurture them along. To figure out how to get around the problems, to work out the building process and logistics too. To get them into prototype production past Commander Sindri's doubts.

It was too cool. He couldn't help but grin again. Was there any doubt that he
loved
his job?

---<>))))

Sprite received intel from
Firefly
when the intel packet finally came in on Convoy 81. She, of course, passed on a copy to Monty and the intelligence department for further in-depth review. They already had the report from Commander Teague's office, the look at the raw data and comparison of what their own analysts came up with might draw some interesting things out of it however. Things the Pyrax group might have missed.

Things that they could compare with data drawn from their own collection of POWs and databases she thought.

She however had other concerns for the moment. She dumped the highlights then ran her program again. They hit immediately. She ran the comparison not expecting a perfect match but instead the comparison program got a direct hit with a 98.44 percent probability. The voice comparison was the same for all three subjects, but the percentages weren't perfect matches. The visual match though was the clincher.

She took the information to Admiral Irons during the next Intelligence briefing. He wasn't interested until she put forth the idea of possible changeling clones being sent into the sector. That forced him to take the issue seriously. He sat back as she presented her case to the group. “Don't you see? Both sides are picking them up. Look at the back stories! The XO on
Io 11
was found in a back alley. Reportedly she'd jumped ship after they tried to sell her and her stasis pod at auction. Then there is Commander Meia, who was also found in a stasis pod as a child,” she said. “She was found here and was approximately the same age as the first,” she said pulling up the plot and putting a blinking X on it. It was East of B101a1. “And now this lady!”

“We don't know that. We don't know if she has the same back story,” Captain Montgomery said quietly. “You're drawing conclusions on assumptions.”

“But the face and voice fit!”

“I agree that is definitely odd. One person having the same face but
three
? But it is a big galaxy,” Commander Lake said, tugging on an ear.

“It could be a simple case of triplets,” Fletcher stated blandly.

“Et tu, Lieutenant?” Sprite demanded.

“No one is saying you aren't right. They are playing devil's advocate. We have Commander Meia's blood and genetic profile on file. Run them past medical and see what they say.”

“Yes, sir.”

“And Commander,” Irons said as the others turned to other matters. “Remember, innocent until proven guilty.”

“But if it is a changeling nest?”

He nodded, now grim. “That is a possibility. But don't destroy a woman's career and possibly her
life
over assumptions built on assumptions. Remember, Meia had no implants before she joined up. She also went through our induction process. That included a full vetting and rather thorough security review. You have gone over it, right? Checking for any signs? Yet you didn't report anything so I am assuming you didn't find anything.”

She slowly nodded. “Meia was on
Bounty
, Admiral. The security review was limited.”

“But she's passed one other since that time period,” Fletcher supplied, checking the review notes.

“I agree; we need to know more. But until we get our hands on this lady or someone else, we'll have to deal with it as a coincidence.”

“I recommend we do an interview with Commander Meia. See if we can draw out more of her back history, sir,” Monty said, surprising some. He held up a restraining hand. “I'm not saying you are right Commander; I'm saying we can look into her history. I too would like to put the matter to bed once and for all. Can we scan her?” he asked. “I mean, check for nanites or something?”

“She was scanned on
Bounty
when she joined up,” Sprite admitted.

“So if she is a changeling she had no nanites. No implants. So … what does that tell us? Were there any normal clones? I'm not sure of the value …,” Monty frowned.

“I don't know,” Commander Lake said.

“I will …,” Lieutenant Fletcher stopped himself. “I was going to say look into the matter further but the best databases we had on changelings are on Lemnos. We have the directories, but they are now considered highly suspect after the events there.”

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