Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (96 page)

But it has to be done he reminded himself privately.

“I'd like to be like a kid and like your undivided attention, John, but I know you are up to something,” Phil said warily.

The admiral snorted. So much for subtly. “Nonsense. You and I both know Jersey and Amadeus are both out on training maneuvers at the moment.”

“And why not include Horatio?”

“Ah well, you have me there since this conversation is intended to be about his future,” the admiral replied. “Which is why it was necessary to exclude him. We need someone senior to go to Bek.”

“See a need fill a need, eh?” Phil asked, wrestling with the idea. He'd grown used to having Horatio around.

“Yes. I had considered ordering him here to receive an update key package. But we don't have time for that. You can do without him now in Pyrax, am I correct?” Admiral Irons asked. The last wasn't quite a question, more of a pointed hint.

Admiral Subert grunted. “If I have to, yes. I hate the idea of an indispensable man, but other than you he's it here. He's the glue holding a lot of things together. Without him … but we have to. We'll figure it out I suppose.”

“Good. Do so.”

“It will mean I'll need someone senior to take his place with the keys, Captain's rank.”

“And promotions aren't for another four months,” the admiral sighed. “Do you have candidates?”

“No. I hadn't thought of it.”

“You should have. We're all a heartbeat away from disaster; you know it. Having a contingency plan in place is important, Phil,” Admiral Irons stated.

“Point taken,” Admiral Subert said without rancor. “Do
you
have any candidates on your end?”

“Well, you aren't taking Vestri. I need him here. Kinja is good, and no, Yao is tied up with too many projects here. What about one of Horatio's deputies? I don't know them well enough to judge from this distance I'm afraid. I know there has been regular turnover as well.”

“I'll go over the list. Senior most might not be the best however. That might ruffle some feathers,” Phil warned. “I can slot Captain Firefly in if necessary. I'll need to lighten his load though, and he won't have a physical presence to inspect things. But he can manage a bunch of remote platforms to see things in various places in the yard far faster than Horatio or I ever could.”

“There is a thought,” Admiral Irons replied. “You could also see about Rear Admiral Zekowitz. He is an engineering admiral.”

“Getting him up to speed is going to be a nightmare, Admiral,” Phil replied. “And I'm not quite ready to hand him the keys to one of our shipyards so trustingly after just meeting him if you don't mind,” he said.

“Point taken,” Admiral Irons replied. “We can get him up to speed, implants and such and then send him off with Horatio I suppose.”

“Besides, he outranks me,” Phil replied, apparently missing the admiral's statement.

“Does that bother you the most?”

“No, but he's not making secret of it,” Phil replied.

“So, we need to find someone else and push them up.”

“Yes. I'm not happy about it, but …”

“And when are you not okay with doing that if the job needs doing? Especially if it saves you the trouble of doing it yourself?” Admiral Irons asked with a grin in his voice.

“Do I take it you finally agree with my shake-up?” Phil retorted.

“Let's just say it was a wake-up call I suppose. And it served its purpose. I got them. They got a slap to wake them out of their complacency, and things are moving along.”

“Nice to be appreciated I suppose,” Phil replied dryly. “What about the rank structure with Bek? How are we going to handle the integration?”

“With kid gloves,” Admiral Irons replied. “I need to look over what you've sent carefully. We need to draw this Vice Admiral Sienkov into the talks. Get the ball rolling quickly there. If the politicians see things rolling, they might step up their own pace to try to keep up.”

“Or get left behind? You do know you are on the political side of the fence as well, right?” Phil said.

“Don't remind me,” Admiral Irons groaned.

“I'll feel Sienkov and Zekowitz out. I'm still getting a handle on them. The
vice
admiral is touring San Diego and the academy, even doing some lectures while he is there. I'll see where he stands. Zekowitz has been given the initial implants and has passed the basic tests. He's up for more surgery but is currently pestering Horatio about the yard.”

“Understood. Keep me posted.”

“Aye aye, Admiral.”

“Thank you, Admiral,” Irons retorted. “Antigua out.”

---<>))))

“Fun fun fun,” Commodore Logan said, shaking his head as he dabbed at his chin with a napkin. “Thank you, the meal was as always filling,” he said, sitting back and patting his belly.

“As it should be,” Mama Valdez replied with a smile. “Now if we can only marry you off …,” she teased.

He shook his head as Junior and the others groaned. “Mama, please,” Junior protested.

Horatio snorted.

“I hear you won't be with us much longer?” Mama asked. She got up and started to pick the dishes up. When Horatio tried to get up to help, she pushed him back down firmly and then went back to work.

He snorted. “Yes. I'm going to Bek with Rear Admiral Zekowitz as his second in command of the yard there apparently.”

“Oh? It seems … odd. The man is what, half your age, yet he outranks you?”

The commodore shrugged. “We're grafting their structure into ours. It's still a work in progress. He needs to get up to speed on everything, but he knows the basics so he's got the important stuff down. He's an able administrator. I'll do the hands-on to get things up to speed.”

“Just like you've been doing here,” Mama Valdez replied with a sniff. She finished piling the dishes and walked off with them to the kitchen.

“We'll get the yard turned around. What I'm not looking forward to is trying to get an ansible in there like Admiral Irons wants to do. It means transiting the rapids at the low octaves of alpha to keep it functional,” Horatio said, turning to Junior.

“Which means months in transit,” Junior stated, running the calculations in his head. “And there is no guarantee of success. Just getting there will be tricky.”

“No, no there isn't. I'm also going in virtually blind. I don't know much about the players beyond the scouting reports we've got. All I know is that they are enthusiastic to join up, have a functional yard, a massive population on several worlds and colonies … and no hyperdrives.”

The fighter captain winced theatrically. “Ouch.”

“Yes. They built up a massive war machine in anticipation of a Xeno fleet that never showed.”

“How, sir?” Captain Valdez asked in disbelief. “The keys …”

“Long before we had replicators we had other means of manufacturing. They bootstrapped it all, right up to crude fusion reactors that they put into service for the first time two decades ago.”

“Oh.”

“They are nothing if not determined. They've got grit, determination, and stubborn pride. They aren't afraid of getting their hands dirty, and they are eager to get back into the fold. I can work with that,” the commodore replied quietly.

“I'd say you can at that, sir,” the captain replied with a nod.

“What about you? Tired of being a staff weenie? Ready to take on the bridge of a starship?” Horatio asked, eying the captain.

“Well,” the captain drawled. “I'm not sure. I didn't spend a lot of time on
Firefly
,” he admitted. “And for some reason I never did get around to rotating out of my current command assignment. Some say I'm in a rut,” he said with a grin as he toyed with his beer.

“Or a cockpit,” the commodore replied, toying with his own beer bottle. “I did you a disservice in not broadening your horizons earlier. Now you are going to have to play catch-up.”

“As?”

“Well, I think you can handle a carrier deck,” the commodore replied.

“I'm a bit high in rank to take on a CAG post,” the captain mused.

The admiral snorted. “Who said anything about CAG? I'm talking captain's seat. You can handle that.”

“But fighter …”

“As I said, it's time to get past that. You've been complaining about not getting much seat time. You're lucky if you get what, an hour a week?”

“Two,” Junior said, clearly nettled by the idea of giving up the cockpit cold turkey.

“Well, the good news is, as a carrier skipper you can strap on a fighter or other craft when it suits you … provided,” he held up a restraining index finger, “provided you get permission from the CAG, you are still flight qualified, and you have the time.”

“I …”

“I understand even Admiral Irons takes on a ship from time to time,” Horatio said, taking a pull of his beer. “So if he can do that and everything else, I think you can hack it, right? And you can always strap on a sim seat and run op force against the wing anytime you want,” he said with a knowing grin.

“Okay,” Junior said, taking a deep breath and exhaling it. “Where do I sign?”

“Well,” Horatio said, studying him thoughtfully. “It's not my decision. I'm technically on leave for a week before we head out.”

“Leave?” Junior snorted. “Right, you?”

“Funny,” the commodore replied. “I thought I'd look up some old friends before I left. Got a problem with that, Captain?” he asked, eying the young man.

“No, sir,” the captain in question said, taking a pull of his beer.

“But, as it happens, I have an in with BUPERS and ops. And since I run the yard, or well, did up until I passed it on to Captain I'rll, I thought I'd put in a word for you. It seems we've got a fleet carrier begging for a skipper. She's about to launch in eight or nine weeks.”

“Argus? Me?” Junior demanded, eyes wide.

“Argus, yes you.”

“I'll take it!” Junior said.

“That's the spirit,” the commodore replied with a smile.

“I'm going to miss you Horatio,” Junior said as his mother came out of the kitchen. She wrapped her arms around his neck crowing over his good fortune.

“I'll be back. Eventually,” Horatio said as Mama Valdez got out of control.

---<>))))

Amadeus scratched his head and tugged on a long ear as he read the reports of Bek and news that there were fresh officers to contend with. “I'm not sure to take everything said at face value here,” he said.

“We've got images and such, sir,” Kyle replied, looking at his admiral with concern. “It's not faked …”

“I know. But we don't know them. I'm normally a hard charger, but in this case I say caution should be the order of the day. Move in slowly; don't embrace them totally.”

“Being standoffish might throw them off, sir,” Kyle stated. “We need them.”

“Possibly. But if they know how the game works, then they'll know we'll need time to adjust just like they will.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to see an ansible there. And hell, if I could I'd visit,” the Neochimp flag officer said. His staff stared at him. “I said visit people, not stay. I wouldn't mind playing some of the war games they mentioned.” He grinned ferally. “See how they stack up.” That earned a few chuckles and nods. “I doubt their hardware is up to our standards. It's probably below even the Horathians. It's going to take time and investment to get them up to speed.”

“Time and investment that would be better channeled into other venues, sir?” Garfield asked.

“You said it; I didn't. I honestly don't know at this point. We're too far away, I'm only getting the little you see. We're not getting the full details.”

“No, sir. But it is a hopeful sign. And an additional shipyard …”

“Is definitely appealing I'll grant you that. We'll see what the future brings I suppose,” the admiral said, letting the matter drop. “Now come on, we've got a mission to plan and execute. We've given that Prowler enough lead time. I want us underway on schedule, and I want things to go off without a hitch. Invariably things go wrong, so let's see if we can find some weak points and plug them before they bite us in the ass.”

Chapter
56

As news spread of Bek and Nuevo the media clamored for reactions from the man on the street as well as those in power. Governor Piper's hat throwing and exuberant “Hot dog!” got the most chuckles and replay of them all however.

Some were all for the inclusion, others indifferent. A few were lightly hostile to the idea. Those garnered the most coverage for some cynical reason.

---<>))))

Governor Randall smiled to his cabinet as they finished their brunch and discussed the situation. Inevitably the discussion turned to matters off world as it always did. That was fine with him. Many of the cabinet members assumed he would make room for them somehow when he inevitably moved up the ladder into space.

He let them think that. Some of them were right, but he wasn't about to say who. He didn't want to poison the reactions of those he intended to leave behind in his wake. For now, he needed them.

Bek was on everyone's mind. He let them discuss it, wrangling the topic as he sat back and sipped his coffee.

A small corner of his mind was amused by their dress and fashion sense. The women like his lovely wife sitting with her legs crossed near him still wore Victorian style long dresses though things were changing. The styles were more daring, the colors and fabrics more modern. The men wore a mix of Victorian fashion with more modern styling. Of the two he thought the men were getting the better of the deal.

Antigua had its own sense of style and wasn't about to take on the spacer's fashions wholesale right away. Many of his countrymen and women were stubborn, and it was endearing that they clung to traditional garb. Some might think it was misplaced, but he saw it as quaint and practical … while also making a statement that they would not forget where they came from while also pointing to where they intended to go.

Besides, some of the outfits the spacers wore were quite bland and tasteless. Some left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

He wasn't certain how he would handle his wife in trousers. He'd seen her in them a few times, like when she chose to wear them when she went riding or playing sports with the kids. But to wear them all the time? He thought something would be lost, a part of the feminine charm. A little bit of mystery at the idea of what was under the dress … and the knowledge that it was only his to see.

His supporters and staff worried that Admiral Irons would want to go to Bek since more space industry was there. The governor snorted and shook his head at the idea. “No, he's invested here. The ansible and yard are here.”

“But there is more security. There is less politics … he can do a lot there.”

The governor shook his head. “No, I know the man. He's here for the duration. Relax.”

“You are certain of this?”

“As much as any of us can be. He's not going to run. Not unless he has no other choice. Bek is not where he needs to be. We just need to make sure of that for him.”

Mister Daly eyed him. “If you say so.” The big man was still a bit shook up over the mess in his chemical works. He'd vowed to hire additional security while also firing his existing structure … something the governor hadn't recommended but had decided to stay out of. Scapegoating the man wouldn't help, and it would draw attention to him, making him look like he was guilty of something.

“And I do,” the governor stated, checking his pocket watch. He dropped it back into his pocket. He didn't need it; the time was on his HUD. But making a show of it reminded the others that his time was valuable and they all had other things on their schedule to do. “If there is anything else?” he asked politely, but with a hint of warning that his time and patience had limits they were fast approaching.

“You'll feel him out?”

“As if there is a need,” Charlie Rockefeller said. “If the governor says it is fine, it is fine.”

Charlie was head of the industrial board. He had to put up with Daly among others, but he had thick enough skin to do so. In fact he was a chimera, with skin created from carotene formed into iridescent scales that covered his body. The scales flexed when he moved, causing a shimmering effect. They were also hard and helped to shield the man from the heat of the forges he used to attend in his youth.

“Still, I believe you should reconsider the VP slot. If it goes to someone in Bek …,” Mister Daly said suggestively. “You'll have greater competition when it comes time for the real election.”

The governor frowned thoughtfully. He knew the copper baron was trying to set himself up for a run at the governor's seat when Jeff finally let it go. He doubted the other man would get it despite the fortunes he would undoubtedly spend trying to get it. People were fickle, and they knew the man wasn't just a penny pinching miser, he was also hard to work for. Brutal some said.

Sometimes he regretted taking him on as an industrial adviser and political contributor. “That is by far the least of my worries at the moment. That is far into the future. A decade or more at the way things are going.”

“You have to admit, Bek's introduction is a bonus. A very welcome one with their tech basis and military. And when we throw in Nuevo …. We are really doing this, aren't we?” Sandra asked, shaking her head. She shook her head with a faraway expression on her face. “It still seems like a dream.”

“Well, if it is, I'm not sure I want to wake up. There are some nightmare portions I admit, but overall, we're getting to see a new tomorrow. I for one am looking forward to it,” the governor said, rising out of his chair. He nodded to them. “Gentlemen, ladies. A good day to you,” he said simply.

They murmured similar sentiments and then exited the room. His wife lingered, gave him a small smile, but then blended in with the mixed group as they murmured and walked out.

Jeff turned to look out the window for a moment while his staff policed the wreckage of their coffee and snacks and then laid out the briefing for the next meeting. Invariably his eyes turned upward to the sky above. “You better not run for the boonies, John. I've got too much riding on you. We all do,” he growled.

“Sir, your eleven o'clock is here. Security is sticky about passing them though …”

“Send them in,” the governor said over his shoulder. He heard a murmur and rustle of fabric behind him. He turned and nodded once, mouth turning into a trace of a smile. “Madam, a pleasure I assure you …”

---<>))))

The ruling board of shareholders filed into Ralph's grill and bar one by one over the course of a half hour as they got off their regular shift in whatever other job they had. The topic of reforming the company had been bandied about for a while. Commander Sprite's suggestion had only brought it out into the open.

They were constantly dealing with investors. On the one hand, they had to; they needed the fresh capital in order to keep expanding. But that capital came with unwanted strings. The investors wanted control as well. Some weren't willing to give it up.

“I like being my own boss,” Savo said, opening the conversation as he sat down at the bar. “I know we've talked about it but …”

“Damn power hungry, money grubbing bastards trying to steal everything we've done,” Petunia growled.

“Well, we've got to do something or be left behind. I've heard chatter of some groups wanting to set up their own yard in competition to us,” Clio stated from the holographic board nearby.

Savo turned to look at her. She spread her hands apart and then between them news reports popped up as if by magic.

“And now we've got more competition. Bek,” Alice said, cleaning the bar. “It's a problem,” she drawled. “Mark my words, these people are good and ready to springboard into things here. They see the market, and they've got the yard. Once they are brought up-to-date …,” she tisked tisked.

“They aren't here yet,” Yuri replied. The Veraxin pilot clacked her jaws a few times. She was representing the pilot union since her boss was in her tug somewhere in the belt as usual.

“No, but they are now on the horizon,” the Neogorilla growled sourly.

“Then we need to step up our game. Where did we stick that message from Commander Sprite again? Maybe we shouldn't have dismissed all of it so quickly.”

“I can look it up. Um, for the record though, Alice and I are um …”

“Getting cold feet?”

“No, it's not that!” Ralph said. “It's just, okay, we're investors and all, but this isn't our thing, you know? We're into the restaurant business. So, I was thinking that well, we'd sell to someone who did know and, um, invest in a chain of restaurants,” Ralph said. “Bars and stuff you know,” he said.

“That's … actually a good idea,” Taylor Warner said slowly.

“It is?” Petunia demanded.

“Yeah, it is. We need change, new blood. If he sells to someone who can bring that in, a fresh perspective, then maybe we can still keep core control while building the business and making it good for when Bek comes online.”

“I think there are enough shipyards,” Savo muttered.

“I think the galaxy is a big place and competition is good,” Hishina said. “We're at saturation and can't expand. This is a good thing. None of us are willing to give up our other jobs either. I certainly am not.”

“If you say so lady. I have my doubts,” Petunia replied, nose in the air.

Hishina saw the look and sighed. “I'm sorry you don't agree. But I too cannot dedicate my time to this company as much as I'd like to. I know Lieutenant Warner can't either.”

“No,” Taylor replied, shaking his head. “And I know you, Em, and I all have a conflict of interest with Antigua Prime even though the station doesn't produce many ships.”

“Probably because we've downplayed the importance and emphasized building infrastructure and civilian goods for the planet,” Hishina replied with a smile. “Are you and Rasha considering selling?”

Taylor cocked his head. He knew the others were listening. “Not … not all of it. Possibly a portion of our shares. Rasha is too tied up with the Federation government now.”

“How is she doing?” Savo asked.

“Good. Busy. I hardly see her which sucks,” the cyber said. “We talk every day but it's hard enough being a cyber. Now with our different jobs …,” he shrugged.

“Should we call this meeting to order?” Ralph asked. “I think everyone who is going to be here is here,” he said, glancing at Alice.

“I'll … Howi just said he's busy. I'm texting the others to get a nose count,” Hishina replied. “Admiral Irons is busy and has given Lieutenant Warner his proxy again,” she said as if she was reading off a list.

“Again. He too should probably sell out—conflict of interest and all that,” Taylor said, spreading his hands apart in supplication.

“If it's the money …,” Savo said.

Taylor shook his head. “What do we care about dividends and money? It's all numbers at this point. Where am I going to spend it?” he asked, smiling mirthlessly. “It is a tool, nothing more. To be honest I've wanted to spend a bit more time at the academy lecturing.”

“You mean gasing on about the past,” Petunia teased.

“That too I suppose,” Taylor replied with a grin. “Inspiring the youth is how I like to look at it,” he said primly. “I'm old, Em too, though you didn't hear that one from me,” he said severely enough to make them all smile or clack their mandibles in amusement. “I think it's time for a bit of youth and vigor now that we've shown what is possible.”

“Shown the way. So, you are stepping aside?” Hishina asked, sounding patient.

“I'm texting Em now. I haven't discussed this with …,” he paused. “Okay, she um, said whatever I want is fine with her. Huh.”

“You did mention she's busy, which is why she gives you her proxy,” Hishina replied.

“True. Are you going to bow out as well?” Taylor asked, looking at his fellow cyber.

“I'm … thinking I'd like to stay on. I like to help. I may take more of a back seat once things begin to move,” Hishina said carefully.

“Understood. So, shall we get to the agenda?”

“Let's make this official and call this board of directors meeting to order first,” Alice said.

“Well hurry up. We've got a restaurant to run, and the dinner crush will be hitting us soon,” Ralph said peevishly.

“I see what you mean about getting our house in order,” Savo said. He for one liked being in the yard more than in a suit doing board business. He took pride in the tours, loved seeing the new ships and projects flowing in, but hated not being able to get his hands dirty. “I think we all have a lot to think about. Our priorities … where our hearts are I suppose,” he said gruffly. He eyed a few of them. “That being said, let's get this meeting going before Ralph blows a blood vessel,” he said with a half-smile towards the bartender.

Ralph tossed a bar rag his way. He chuckled.

“And maybe, we can add building a proper board room or something to the agenda,” Ralph growled.

“Like you'd want to meet anywhere else,” Alice teased. “Your life is in this bar,” she said eying him.

“But if we're out, or at least cut back, that isn't a problem, is it?” Ralph asked her, challenging her. She nodded. “Good. So, added to the agenda, a hab module with a board room.”

“We'll have to find that in the budget,” Petunia sighed. She picked at the stale peanuts in front of her then shrugged her massive shoulders. “But I suppose change is inevitable. And I'd much rather be in a space suit over a monkey suit any day,” she growled.