Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (64 page)

“Yes dear,” he said in surrender.

She huffed as he relinquished her finger. She flexed it a few times, then hooked it in his shirt. Her other hand stroked his side as she leaned up, tilting her head to kiss him. He returned the kiss.

When Captain Burrows coughed again, she broke the kiss, gave him a fulminating look then moved off with a wiggle. She looked over her shoulder and crocked her finger in an ancient come hither expression. He snorted and followed.

When she got him to a dead end alley, he was wary. She hooked his arm, pushed him inside against a wall, then kissed him again, more thoroughly that time. Burrows and the detail took up position blocking the alley. “There,” she said.

“Better,” John chuckled, wiping his mouth as his eyes locked onto her mischievous set of brown ones. “You're going to get me into trouble making me run late though.”

She waggled her eyebrows but kept a mock stern expression going. “Your problem. I'm done waiting,” she growled, pulling his head down for another kiss. After a moment he stopped fighting it.

---<>))))

Toni Chambers nodded as the piece finished playing, and the last frame froze and then became a thumbnail beside her at her anchor desk. She had worked hard to get a camera bot in place for the admiral's arrival, in a place where security wouldn't find it. It had witnessed his arrival and initial encounter with April. “As you can see, Admiral Irons seems to be more engaged with other things, some would call it distractions, than the running of the Federation. One would think after what happened in Protodon, Epsilon Triangula, and most recently in B452C, he would be a bit more focused. I'll leave it to you our viewers to decide. This is Toni Chambers, Galactic Spotlight News. Where the spotlight shines on everyone,” she said signing off.

The admiral flicked the video off with a thought to his implants. He leaned over to see April covering her mouth as she sat naked beside him. “Quit laughing, lady, this is serious.”

“It is. Oh it's serious,” she said mockingly.

“You …,” he sighed.

What he didn't understand was that she'd set Toni up to film it. It would play in her favor in a lot of ways. For one, it would let others know that the admiral was taken. Two, it would tweak him for ignoring her for so long. And three, it would actually help him by offsetting that allegation of child molestation that kept lingering over his head.

And four, it would put one in Toni's eye for trying to make a move on her. All she had to do is let Toni know who gave her the anonymous tip, and the woman would be spitting for some time she thought with a cat-like mental grin.

She just wished she could be the one to deliver the news in person just to see the expression on her face.

The admiral saw her look and frowned. “Someone's up to something,” he said, hands stroking her.

“Uh huh …,” she said, her own hands stroking his chest. “Someone else is too,” she said huskily. She moaned softly when he kissed her throat just the way she liked it. “You're getting good at this.”

“I should. I've had plenty of practice,” he said, still kissing, but moving down to her left collar.

“Looks like you should stay in practice then,” she murmured in his ear as her fingers stroked his back and broad shoulders. “You're not going anywhere for a while until you can prove you can stay in practice,” she murmured.

His chuckle was her only answer.

---<>))))

“Well! You are certainly a hard man to find these days,” Monty said, eying his target as he came into the bar and pulled up a stool. His target was still dressed in white, from his fedora hat sitting next to him to his suit, jacket, tie, pants, and shoes. The suit looked new too.

The other man grunted, still leaning over the brass bar rail, propping himself up with his elbows. He had a whiskey glass by his artificial hand and a cigar in the other. “Keeping a low profile is hard work. Especially in this day and age. It's been amateur hour you know that? And before I say where I've been … where the hell have you been, Captain?” he asked, turning to look at Monty squarely.

“Touché,” Monty replied. “I guess we've both gotten into more mischief than we should have.”

“When you warned me of that, I hadn't quite believed it. I thought, no one would be that stupid; they'd understand, right? Boy was I wrong,” Briggs replied, dipping the end of his stogy in his whiskey before he took a puff.

“They blew your cover? Is that what bothers you?” Monty asked quietly as the bartender came over and pushed a beer his way. He nodded in thanks.

“Blew it to hell and gone. That damn wolf chewed my ass rather publicly,” the cyborg growled in disgust. “No way I can get back in there now. You know, I built up not just my reputation but contacts. Years of work down the toilet.”

“No, we used it. And we're still using it. Locke has reforged some of the links with a few of your contacts. Those that survived.”

“I see. So I'm not going back?”

“No. I've got something else in mind for you—a long range, very difficult mission. You're going to have to work your way behind the lines into Sigma sector and find out what we need to know. Then, you'll have to get it and possibly yourself back, hopefully in one piece.”

“The intel or my rather abused hide?”

“The data. The hide is optional, Michael,” Monty replied.

“Gee, thanks,” Briggs replied dryly.

“So, are you in?” Monty asked carefully.

“I don't know. I need to see what's involved. The budget for one, my support. Am I getting a promotion for risking my neck?”

“I suppose we can do all that,” the intelligence chief replied.

“And no more interference from the idiot brigade?”

“That I can't promise you,” Monty replied with a slight trace of a scowl. He took a draw of his beer and then set it back down on the cork coaster. “We're supposed to be working for them you know,” he reminded the undercover officer. “And they do pay the bills.”

“Right. I'll need a resupply.”

“So, you'll do it?”

“Let's just say I'm bored, and I'm not doing anything else,” the man in white replied with a faint British accent. “Am I going to get an upgrade before I toddle off into death and danger?”

“Again, I think something can be arranged,” Monty replied.

“Oh goody,” Briggs said with a slight smile.

Chapter
35

Just as they thought they had everything under control the light cruiser
Shepard
jumped in real space at the B-95a3 jump point broadcasting an alert. In their haste to get the news out, they almost forgot to broadcast their IFF. Fortunately, the orbital fortress was still clearing for action when they broadcast the IFF on the heels of their warning.

“That was a bit close!” Jojo said as she read the report. She swore as more details came in. “Wake the admiral,” she said. “We're going to need the staff, Berkowitz,” she said, looking at the Yeoman.

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a tight nod. He could tell the news wasn't good.

---<>))))

A few minutes later the admiral, staff, and his flag officer had assembled on the flag bridge. Amadeus was fully dressed. He re-read the warning of the incoming BCs.

“At least they beat them here,” Captain Vargess murmured.

“Yes, but by how long?” Commander Offenger demanded. The admiral frowned thoughtfully and opened his mouth to answer since the admiral seemed to be still digesting the news when fresh details came in. Apparently the LC had gotten a good peek at the
Derfflinger
class BCs. Enough to see that some of their damage had been patched over and repaired.

When the admiral received the details, he swore viciously. “Son of a monkey's uncle! Talk about timing!” They were getting pretty close to the window when Fourth Fleet was expected to arrive.

“You've got to admire the timing I suppose, sir,” Captain Vargess replied, also disgusted. “The spirits of space don't usually pick sides, and they can be perverse with their tricks in order to entertain themselves I suppose.”

“Maybe for you,” the chimp replied sourly, ignoring the comment about religion. “Suggestions on dividing our forces?”

“I'm not sure, sir. Obviously what we've got on the jump points now …,” Trajan scowled, playing with the plot. The rear admiral watched him patiently. “I was going to say put everything on the B-95a3 jump point but that might not work,” he mused.

“Explain.”

“They know there are defenses there. They'll jump long or short or off one side or another. My money is short and high. No one wants to come in on the plane of the ecliptic; it means you can use some planetary bodies as shielding or slingshots, but it means the enemy can do the same.”

“It also means you can't retreat easily,” Jojo supplied.

“That too,” Trajan said as the admiral shot her a look to not interrupt.

“You think they'll jump high?” the admiral asked, cocking his head.

“It's natural to seek the high ground. To attack from above. Psychological advantage and all that,” the captain replied, still eying the map. He played with it until he had a high viewpoint above the plane of the ecliptic. The admiral exchanged an amused look with his staff and then crossed his arms. His thumb flicked over his lips and then he grunted. Trajan was right. Predators fell into two types: those who followed birds and struck from on high, and those who were like sharks who struck from below. Human military training had emphasized taking the high ground for thousands of years. By now it was practically integrated in their DNA. “Continue, Captain.”

“It won't work against the task force either. They are skipping so they can jump away from the kill basket of course.”

“Of course.”

“We can widen the basket but then we won't have enough in one place to saturate their defenses. We open ourselves up to the age-old defeat in detail.”

“Funny how that comes up a lot,” the admiral said.

“Fixed defenses aren't going to play much in this battle I'm afraid. It's all mobile. My thoughts are to spread a net of AWAC and fighters at both locations and vector in fighters and bombers the instant a ship comes out of hyper. Possible C fraction KEW strikes but I don't know if they'll be effective. And we'll have to watch for them as well.”

“Agreed. But that won't do much.” The admiral's jaw worked. The reminder that the enemy had no compunction about striking the planet with a KEW strike wasn't something he wanted to think about but something he was forced to take into consideration in his planning.

“No, sir, it won't. I think they'll need time to recycle their drives before they can jump back out. Time to plot a fresh course based on the data they have. Otherwise, they'd skip in hyper and never come out in real space at all,” Trajan mused.

The admiral nodded. “We're in a catch-22, caught between two fronts, you know that?”

“Yes, sir. I'm not even thinking of the political fallout if we fail now. I just
want
the bastards,” Trajan growled. Others muttered or nodded agreement.

“You and me both. I'm not sure how we can do that though,” Amadeus mused.

---<>))))

Admiral Irons saw the ansible attack warning report and swore viciously himself. He knew the implications. It meant Amadeus had to split his forces to cover both jump points at the same time. Three times if you counted a covering force for Protodon in case the pirates shot at the planet again.

He checked the schedule and then worked his jaw. There was no way, no way in hell he could get additional forces in to TF22 to help.
Maine's
division was en route but would undoubtedly arrive too little too late to do any good.

The same for
Kittyhawk
. It was in the hands of the Neochimp now he thought.

---<>))))

“Is it right to put all of our assets above the plane? If we stayed in the plane of the ecliptic we could respond either way,” Commander Kyle Offenger said as they finished their drinks. Kyle was a bit of a stiff neck; some would think of him as a by-the-book prig. But his abrasive personality wasn't a concern of the admiral. The man had a reputation of digging in and getting things done. He had kept that reputation when he'd joined the admiral's staff as the admiral's G-1 Ops officer. He'd rolled up his sleeves and dug into the training of the fleet, slotting in new units as they came online. He was tireless and a perfectionist, but he got results.

Amadeus frowned thoughtfully then shook his head. “No, Trajan is right. If we stay on the elliptical plane, we're going to be stuck trying to play catch-up either way they jump.” He eyed where the flag captain would normally have been seated. Captain Vargess had been called away to deal with a minor but irritating personal clash that had turned violent. It had started out as a potential captain's mast issue, but one of the hot heads had demanded a full JAG court martial. Since the XO had been peripherally involved, the captain had dived in to sort it out. The timing had sucked, but the captain wasn't known for his attendance to formal dinners. He liked to get his hands dirty.

“Yes, sir, but it's space. There is no up or down,” the commander reminded him.

“But you're forgetting they are human. The natural inclination is to orient yourself in space. Usually they find some sort of frame of reference, like the planet orbits and how they spin. We take natural references from that,” the Neochimp explained. “And he is also correct in pointing out that humans are more inclined to jump from on high than below. To see what they can see from above before they commit.”

“I see. But they could double think this scenario, sir,” the commander warned, swirling his drink.

“And we could too. We have to commit either way.”

“And if we're wrong?” the commander asked. The implications in his tone were clear, not if they were wrong, but if the admiral was wrong, Amadeus thought. It was ultimately his decision, and the fallout would rest squarely on him.

“Then we are wrong,” he said heavily. “We are mortal. We gamble; it's part of the reason we wear this uniform. Calculated risks, Commander,” the admiral said in a slightly frosty tone of voice. He knew the commander had cooled off since he'd tried to take over Jojo's position as the admiral's chief of staff and push her into the admiral's flag lieutenant slot. Technically he should have allowed him, but he had grown accustomed to Jojo and she knew how he thought. He hadn't been willing to break in a new chief of staff, and he also hadn't been willing to break Jojo down to staff lieutenant. She'd done an outstanding job where she was, and he didn't want to do her or her career the disservice for her loyalty.

He wondered briefly if it was inhibiting his ability to bond with his new staff. Quite possibly. He also knew he couldn't hold onto Jojo forever. Eventually she would need to return to the officer pool for a fresh assignment before she grew stale or it inhibited her career.

“Yes, sir,” the commander said stiffening.

“Relax, Kyle,” the admiral said. “I know the risks, and I know I'll have my ass in a sling if we're wrong. I'm more concerned with if we're right though.”

“You don't think two BCs, two squadrons of destroyers, and a light cruiser can take them on, sir? Even though they are damaged?” The fleet was on high alert. The BCs were racing across the star system to squat on the B95a3 jump point.

Lieutenant Commander Garfield, the 3346th admiral's flag tactical officer or FTO looked like he could spit a hairball, Jojo thought as she glanced his way. As tactical officer the orange Neocat knew better than most how well they could fight. Her eyes roved to the Neogorilla 1st Lieutenant Kelly Gaudino, their G-2 intelligence officer, then to Second Lieutenant Aleck Rowland, the staff navigational officer. All of them seemed politely intrigued with the idea. Her eyes roved down through the ship's compliment of officers to the pair of middies trying to keep themselves small and insignificant at the far end of the table. She banished a smile of sympathy before it could touch her lips. At least she hadn't had to put up with this nonsense fresh out of the academy she thought.

Amadeus frowned thoughtfully as he looked at his drink. The latest convoy had come with two
Arboth
class destroyers to fill out his first destroyer squadron as well as the second. Apparently Admiral Irons had ordered the ships to come forward in divisions to make training easier. It slowed down his replacements but sped up how much he needed to train them on his end.

They also knew that
Justice
and
Quenor
were on their way. Phil had held onto them a little too long however, so they had missed out on catching the pirates in B452c and would miss the action when the enemy got to Protodon as well.

Admiral Irons had also gotten off the stick as well. He'd sent out reinforcements including
Maine
and
Taurek Ne Dor
to help flesh out his forces. “A day late and a dollar short,” Amadeus murmured, checking their schedule again. It was too much to hope for a last minute reprieve in that regard. Nope, they weren't due for another four weeks.

“Sir?”

“Sorry, wool gathering I suppose. Thinking of how the BCs in the pipeline would have been nice to have had right about now,” the admiral replied as the steward finished clearing the wreckage of the meal. “Good job C'v'll,” the admiral said with a nod to the Veraxin.

“Thank you, sir,” the Veraxin replied. “We do try to please,” he said.

“You do, you do,” he said with a brief smile before his eyes returned to his ops officer. “I'd say that they think they can take us on. They don't know what we've got, though I bet they know we've been reinforced. It's why I want to keep the BCs cloaked.”

“Aces in the hole?”

“Yes. If we play our cards right, we can get them to commit and then pounce.”

“It's worth a shot, sir.”

“Yes. And don't forget,” the admiral smiled. “We've got full squadrons on both battle cruisers as well as half squadrons on the tin cans. That's a fighter wing. They don't have bombers, but we can sortie the bombers from the fortress too, stage them through our hangars and resources.”

The commander nodded. “Yes, sir.”

“I think they aren't going to like what we've got. Not at all,” the admiral said. He held up his glass as his Veraxin steward topped it off. “A toast ladies and gentlemen,” he said, ignoring the slight dismay from the midshipman tucked away at the opposite end of the table. The middies traditionally lead the toast, but he had something else in mind. “To the Federation of course but also to victory,” he said.

“To victory,” the other officers replied, smiling as they drank.

---<>))))

The two
Derfflinger
class battle cruisers
Nevada
and
Massachusetts
arrived outside the normal jump zone from B-95a3 in neat formation, one million kilometers apart. They quickly moved together for mutual support.

Not only had they made the jump short of the normal zone, but they'd also placed their ships high and outside the heliopause to get a better view of the star system while also keeping the enemy off balance. But to their surprise they found ships already there waiting forty million kilometers out in a rough half sphere between them and the inner system. “It looks like we've been anticipated,” Captain Post said as their sensor feeds stabilized and began to return meaningful data.

“Yes, sir. And, sir, they have been heavily reinforced. We're still getting a handle on the sensors as they come in, our hyperwake is still distorting them up a fare-thee-well. But we've got enough mass readings to tell at least two of the ships on course from the Kathy's World jump point are big,
Capital
ship class,” the CIC rating stated.