Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (53 page)

"Are organic, Admiral. And since it is reported to have escaped with a skeleton crew from the yards while on drive test maneuvers, it might be that she didn't have a full complement at all. Possibly not even a full bridge watch of officers. They might all be civilians, lacking the discipline of the navy. Since they clung to life and didn't suicide, the crew would be more vulnerable to manipulation."

"You're talking about torture," he said darkly.

The A.I. shook her avatar's head. "Not even that, Admiral. Anyone offered a comfortable home, power, money, sexual intercourse, recreational drugs, or some other stimulus is more likely to cooperate," Sprite answered.

"True."

"Then there are the implants. If they only get bodies, how many had implants that self-destructed?"

He grimaced, eyes closed. "Here's a scary thought, what if they copy the implants? Copy and replicate them? They've been known to do that before." He was referring to the handful of pirates who had been captured with recycled implant technology inside them. Some had been crude copies; others had been ripped from other people. The recycled ghoulish part bothered him.

"The fail safes …"

"Aren't perfect," Irons replied. "You yourself pointed out the manipulation angle. And we both know the Xenos could copy someone's implants in a cloned body." His lips twisted in a sour smile. "Copy it often enough and you can try to hack the copies until one cracks and gives you what you want."

"Or they could reverse engineer it by breaking it down molecule by molecule and analyzing it that way," Sprite agreed.

"Somehow I think that's a bit above how far the Horaths have gotten industrial wise."

"You hope."

"Yes."

"That still leaves the information itself, codes to run the ship, replicators …." Her eyes went wide and then shifted back and forth rapidly. He waited. "A new combination of possibilities has presented itself to me.
If
they did get access to a shipyard tech's implants with the codes, they could unlock replicator passkeys …"

"To a lot of things we don't really want them to have access to. Yes, I got that idea too," the admiral growled.

"We're going to have to do something about this."

"Yes," the admiral hissed. “Yes, we are. What is the big question?” he grimaced.

There was a long silence. Finally, the admiral inhaled and then exhaled heavily. “This explains where they are getting the ships or at least puts that in a different light. And why they aren't as sensitive to losses as I first thought.”

“Possible. Again, it's a house of cards, Admiral. Supposition built on supposition.”

“It explains a few things we didn't understand. Like how they got around my lockouts in New Andres with the Kiev 221 load. It is, I agree, a house of cards, but if it rings true …”

“It's a distinct possibility.”

“Another thought just occurred to me,” he said looking a little bleak. “If that has happened with one ship …”

“You don't suppose there are more out there?” she asked, eyes looking bleak. “It is a possibility.”

“I'm wondering if any of them survived the attack on the Xenos.
Did
they run out of power? Are they just sitting somewhere waiting to be found?”

“And by who?” Sprite asked. “Who gets there first isn't necessarily the winner, Admiral. Not if the Xenos booby trapped it like that ship in Pyrax.” He shivered a little, meeting her eyes. She nodded slowly.

“Something we're going to have to find out soon,” he said.

“We've got only so many hands to juggle all the balls in the air, Admiral,” Protector reminded him gently.

“Yeah well, one of these days one of those balls is going to come down and hit us square in the head. Hit like a wrecking ball,” the admiral growled. “We've got to find a way to catch it or at least deflect it.”

“Bowling ball if we're lucky,” she said smirking a little. “Things like that happen. We have to try to have a reserve and anticipate it if at all possible. We're mortal, sir.” he sighed and nodded. He spent a few moments staring at the wall holo. He loved to see a shipyard in action; that was why he had this up. It was a live feed from the new destroyer production line. Work was going at an increasing pace. Now he was hoping it wasn't all for naught.

---<>))))

“Anything more on
El Dorado
?” the admiral asked, fighting to sound anxious at the next intelligence briefing.

“Good morning to you too, Admiral,” Monty said nodding politely to him. “I'm fine. And no, we haven't gotten anything else yet.”

“Damn it.”

“Moving on for the moment …,” Lieutenant Lake suggested pointedly. She shot her boss a warning look to not be so flippant. The
Olympus
had Admiral Irons on edge. She could understand why, at least in theory. The good news was that they had lead time now so they could prepare to move against it.

If that was even necessary, she reminded herself.

The admiral's nostrils flared. He fought the urge to bite Monty's head off. It died when Mrs. Garrett handed him a steaming cup of his favorite coffee. He took a sip on habit, then seemed to relax, exhaling slowly. “Fine, be that way I suppose. I'll bite. Small talk, I can do that I suppose. How is the weather? How are your people working out?” he asked after a moment.

Lieutenant Lake snorted. So did Monty. Finally, Monty replied with a shrug as he glanced at her and then back to the admiral. “Ah, about that, Admiral, I … um, in the future can you let me handle my own personnel or at least keep me in the loop when you start playing with my manning tables?” Monty asked carefully.

“Not you too,” he sighed, shaking his head.

“Me too what?” he asked confused.

“Never mind. What did I do this time?”

“You sent two greenhorns and a lieutenant fresh out of the advanced academy intel classes out on a wild goose chase.”

“Um …”

“
Daikoku
,” Sprite said helpfully.

“Yeah, I remember something about that,” he answered slowly, frowning. “I thought that since they were the ones to twig on it, they should be the ones to check it out. You have a problem with it?”

“I … in all honesty, Admiral, I'd like some notice when you do something like that. I had planned on sending a team when I heard, and a team was going to be sent to Pi sector irregardless. But I, well, jumping the gun and sending an analysis administrator and two greenhorns to do a field man's job …”

“In other words I stepped on your toes, and you're smacking my hand for it, Monty?” he asked with a straight face. He carefully set the coffee cup down as he stared at the other man.

“Hard to smack your hand, sir, since you outrank me.”

The admiral nodded once. “True.”

“I'm getting some indications this isn't an isolated incident though,” he said thoughtfully, eying him. He grimaced.

“You're saying I need to delegate more and stop jumping the chain of command,” the admiral said carefully. Sprite nodded. “Not helping, Commander,” he growled, eying her.

“In a word, yes, Admiral, or at least give the appearance of doing so.” Monty grimaced. “Trusting us, your subordinates would be nice.” The admiral winced. “If it continues it could undermine the authority of officers …”

He held up a hand, and Monty froze at the sight of the scowl on his face. “You're right; I have become a little too involved. I'll try to curtail that, but I'm not going to insulate myself with layers of people below me. I'm a hands-on person, and I like it that way.”

“What he means is he'll revert to type over time,” Sprite said helpfully. Irons scowl deepened and then he shrugged.

“Noted, Commander, I'll take it under advisement. If you have additional team members or assets for the
Daikoku
mission, I suggest you come up with a supplementary plan and submit it to me ASAP.”

Monty nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“What else?”

“Not much on the POW front. Not many fresh leads to go off of I'm afraid,” Lieutenant Lake said, taking up the cue her boss shot her with a look. She looked at her tablet. “The data we have on Nuevo Madrid is heavily dated I'm afraid. I know there is a destroyer division in there, as well as a frigate, possibly a corvette division. There is some space industry as you already know.”

“Okay.”

“We've passed the intel to Admiral White's intelligence office for further review. We've gotten minor updates from the intelligence sources in other star systems. Protodon believes they've narrowed down a couple more caches of enemy equipment and weapons. They've also found a safe house and are watching it.”

“Good.”

“On the political front, I know you are still dealing with the fallout from ET as well as the
Bismark
.”

“Not the navy's most shining moment in either case,” Sprite said.

“No. But polls are slowly returning to normal trends. Everyone is hopeful of a new future and are willing to have you at the helm of it. Even those who were 'respectfully against you taking charge' are resigned to it now it seems.”

“Good.” The admiral took a sip of coffee.

“Two more governors are en route as of this morning,” Monty reported, glancing at his tablet. “Avalon has reportedly sent in an observer team again.”

“They apparently don't trust the first?” Sprite asked. She blinked “Oh. Never mind.”

“I don't like the sound of that oh,” Admiral Irons said.

“What she means is, that the Avalonian court has changed hands again. A new grand duke is in charge as regent. There is some … unknown factors involved in the political process. What we do know is that the old team is no longer trusted.”

“Lovely,” the admiral sighed. “Next you're going to tell me they'll request asylum.”

“Quite possible,” Monty replied dryly. He caught the admiral's sour expression and shrugged it off.

“We have intel teams ready to go to Tau and Pi sector. They are waiting on available shipping in some cases or are already en route.” Monty checked his tablet. “Let's see, no changes in the training, no accidents or sabotage investigations.”

“All good,” the admiral said. “No news is sometimes good news,” he said as Lieutenant Lake took a sip of her coffee.

“Yes, sir,” she replied with a nod as she set the mug down. “Strong,” She coughed.

“It's how I like it. Navy grade paint stripper,” the admiral said with a brief smile. She snorted.

“No new ships have come in to ports that we are watching as of 0800 this morning. The six convoys … sorry, seven,” Monty corrected himself. “
Seven
are en route and on schedule.” He reported, hitting the last point on their usual routine. “And no sign of enemy activity, planned or otherwise.”

The admiral nodded once. They'd hit all the high points. “Good, dismissed then. Get me more on
El Dorado
, ASAP. That's Priority One now,” he emphasized again.

“You mean Two,” Sprite said, eying him with mock severity as the two human officers rose from their seats. “Priority One is still the possible imminent invasion of our controlled space,” she reminded the group.

“I stand corrected,” the admiral said with a slight head bow in her direction.

“Don't mention it, sir,” she said with a sweet smile his way. He snorted mentally. He was finally getting his mental balance he realized. The little byplay of humor helped.

He waited until they had left before he exhaled noisily.

“I wasn't going to say anything about the personnel thing, at least not yet,” Sprite said. “I thought I'd already soured the well enough and you needed time to be reminded in other ways.”

“Consider my hand slapped. I'm surprised at the source, but Monty's been … growing I suppose you could say. He's definitely a bit more mature than I remember him in Pyrax,” the admiral mused, looking at the shipyard view again. After a long moment of study, he finally shook his head and picked his mug of coffee up with one hand, and the tablet with the other. “He's right though. I've spent so much time hands-on …”

“That you need to learn to step back, which you have. You're not out there building every ship, running every mission. You're not on
America
or
Caroline
now. It is hard to send others into harm's way. I know it. But that is the job of a flag officer—the job of the president.”

“You would remind me of that,” Irons said with a grimace.

“Sometimes you need the reminding. Your adventure time is over, Admiral. It is time to lead. Not necessarily from the front, but to lead.”

“You mean herding cats,” he growled.

She grinned. “That too.”

“Right,” he straightened his shoulders. “Enough feeling sorry for ourselves. I can't go back and live my glory days. Fine. It is past time others had their time in the spotlight, even if it burns them. Okay. I'll … live with it I suppose. What's next?”

Sprite eyed him for a moment then nodded. “Well, you've still got ten free minutes before your next scheduled appointment,” she said. “Do you want to go over the list of candidates for the remaining open cabinet postings?” He shook his head. “Yeah, I thought not. You're going to have to eventually, Admiral; you can't kick the can down the road forever,” she scolded mildly. He eyed her. “Very well. If you'd prefer,” she made a slight curtsy motion. “We can go over the brief D'red has sent over for setting up the Justice Department. He's still trying to find a balance between hiring civilian attorneys to fill the slots and resisting using military attorneys.”