Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (12 page)

“Not just organics. We too like to have a hand in shaping our own destiny,” Fletcher replied.

“True,” Protector stated. “But we cannot in good conscience not pass the woman. The sins of the father are banned.”

“It is indeed. And it goes both ways as well. Admiral Irons faced a similar problem during the first part of the Xeno war, did he not?” Fletcher asked, signaling the question was for Sprite.

“I wasn't activated during that time period. I have only the same historical access you do,” Sprite replied.

“But you have access to his memoirs or files. His memories,” Fletcher continued. “You both do,” he stated.

“The admiral's thoughts are private,” Protector stated primly. “I too am too new to know what happened during that time period,” he stated.

“And you both have to protect the man,” Fletcher stated.

“I know one of the reasons he accepted the redoubt assignment was to get away from mainstream politics since he had been tainted,” Sprite said slowly. “Beyond that I cannot say. Moving on.”

“Agreed. But you see my point.”

“I can't concede that she isn't some sort of sleeper, even one unknowing. Many Xeno sleepers were programmed that way. And every argument that she isn't a Xeno changeling of some sort can be countered to some degree,” Sprite stated. She still didn't trust the woman. The more she tried to endear herself and work her way into the political process, the more it bothered the A.I. She had downloaded the woman's bio into her active memory and had wrote a series of scripts to keep it up-to-date and to check the status of ONI's ghost mind project on a regular basis.

“I see. Well, she will be in a position to be a spy or do damage, but her access to restricted files will be watched of course,” Fletcher stated.

“I believe as a senior member of the government we should recommend she be assigned an A.I. personal assistant. One that can also act as a watchdog,” Protector stated.

“Agreed. I believe Admiral Irons was considering that option,” Fletcher stated. “I know every member of his cabinet and every Star System governor who has received implants has some sort of watchdog program within their implant hardware and software.”

“All military personnel also have them. They can be suborned or bypassed. History has proven that,” Sprite stated.

“True. Which is why ONI is requiring scheduled as well as random security reviews. Given those precautions I vote we pass her and move on.”

“Seconded,” Protector said with a microsecond of hesitation.

Sprite noted her schedule. She had precisely two more seconds to argue the point before her full attention was needed elsewhere. She also noted she was outvoted. But she couldn't go on record as opposing it in case that was ever brought to the woman's attention. She could make an enemy, a powerful one that could hamper the admiral's actions in the future. “Fine, I agree as well. Happy?”

“Someone needs adjustments to their emotional modulators,” Fletcher stated. “Next case.”

“Yes, next,” Sprite replied, adjusting herself.

Chapter 6

Admiral Sienkov did his best to feel out Captain Montgomery and then find a way to bond with the man. He could appreciate all that the man had gone through; he'd been dumped into the mix with little or no training, support, and then the man responsible for making sure he got it right took off for parts unknown.

He hadn't wanted the job, that much was certain from reading the initial setup of ONI. He'd finally given in and taken the top slot, then gotten his head handed to him by Admiral Subert. It wasn't a fair situation, but life wasn't fair. Right way, wrong way, Navy way he reminded himself.

Even if some people had to learn on the job.

He wasn't sure he'd forgive Admiral Irons for cutting out like that. He wasn't sure he himself could … although there was something to be said about all's well that ends well. Best to leave the situation alone.

They'd gotten lucky; there was no other way of putting it.

ONI had too much on its plate. He knew that. Not only did they have limited resources and personnel, but they also had too much tasking, too many irons in the fire. Analyzing the enemy ships, movement, politics, players, building a better picture of the enemy society, inserting personnel and A.I. into that to perform missions … plus monitor their own people, do background checks, interview the POWs, go through their databases, and keep an eye on the rather lively politics and politicians rising in the federation.

One of the biggest things that had vexed him, that had apparently vexed Phil Subert and others, was that they didn't have a proper grasp of the enemy. ONI had captured a lot of personnel and databases after all, one would think they could and should have built a good idea of what they were dealing with.

Apparently, as he'd settled in, he'd found it hadn't been that easy. Not only had the people been learning on the job, but they'd had to learn what questions to ask … and the limits on the answers they were given. Drawing conclusions was messy if their source material was inaccurate, so believing what the POWs said was tough.

The ships initially captured, such as those from the battle of Pyrax had come from ships drawn from the Gather Fleet. Apparently the two service branches kept separate databases and didn't interact. In a way that made sense since the Gather Fleet, the true pirates, he thought with a mentally curled lip, were out and about being the scourge of the galaxy while the Battle Fleet were at home protecting it.

Of course the Battle Fleet was built from the salvaged or captured ships that the Gather Fleet brought in but not the personnel. Apparently they were clannish, with navy families that stuck to one branch or the other with few crossovers. So getting information about Battle Fleet out of Gather Fleet POWs was tentative at best.

Then there was the nature of the information both in the interviews and the databases. It was all out of date. The task force that had attacked Pyrax had been en route there for almost a decade before it had arrived so had no knowledge of events and things in Horath during their absence.

To date, their most accurate and up-to-date information had been procured from the capture of the personnel from the
Nevada
task force and Fourth Fleet survivors. They had finally gotten full copies of the information along with the actual POWs when they'd been shipped to Antigua.

But the analysists were swamped. They had too much information and not enough people to process and integrate it all. Hence the practice of “borrowing” middies and INTEL students from time to time.

He made another mental note to find a way to accelerate the civilian INTEL branches. Where to get the personnel, the budget though …

“It's nice to unwind, sir. Present company accepted,” Monty said saluting the admiral with a beer. The admiral snorted. It had taken the captain several days to agree to a quiet evening over beers with his boss.

“We backslid. I don't know why we didn't try to make water dwellers. I think ethics might have been involved but most likely politics. But as I was saying, we backslid, and the priority was always the defenses, not hyperdrives. We didn't want to go out and poke the bear and lead them back to us.”

“I see, sir.”

“I know we made mistakes. Bad ones in some cases, and we were probably a little too cautious in others. But after getting bit once or twice, we had good cause to be cautious. And it probably didn't help that our guiding hand was a very conservative historian who knew all about the First A.I. War,” the admiral said.

“Meaning the dangers of A.I. running amok as well as nanites, sir?”

“Yes. We had one incident of a senile A.I. That was scary enough.” He shivered. “Before my time actually.”

“I haven't gone that far back. I'm guessing the burned-hand teaching method was involved though,” the captain said.

The admiral nodded. “Something like that. So, as I said, we backslid pretty far.” The admiral paused to take a sip of his beer.

“It was worse out here, Admiral,” Monty replied. “I spent a few years as a child on an agro world with animal-drawn power—no electric, nothing. Everything mechanical was either animal, wind or water powered. I think a lot of the colonies went that deep into the dark ages because they were terraformed so they didn't have oil or other fuel sources.” He grimaced. “Starships and electric lighting came something of a shock to me.”

“I … see,” the admiral drawled. He paused as he processed those concepts and then shrugged. “That explains why the education sucks. Except the college education. Top notch. They rely on data dumps and implants heavily though.”

“Something I noticed Bek doesn't have. Cybernetics I mean,” the captain said. “Another burned hand thing?”

“We have ID implants for security,” the admiral said, waving a hand. He paused to examine it briefly. His hand was no longer gnarled and aged; it was almost back to what it had been in his youth. Remarkable, a small corner of his mind thought as he continued the conversation. “And yes, I'm playing catch-up with my implants. Among other things,” he said, taking another pull of his beer. “I told Izimay, my late wife, we'd grow old together. We did. But when she passed … I couldn't stay in Bek. Not if I could get away. The idea of going back to that lonely house into retirement …,” he shook his head.

“So, you get a second shot.”

“Yes.”

“And more personnel. Though I understand we keep losing people to ship deployments. I think I need to talk to a few people about getting more A.I. support. Fletcher and a couple dumb A.I. aren't enough, not nearly enough.”

“Yes, sir,” Monty said.

“And we need to reduce our tasking. But that means getting the civilian INTEL organizations off and running. I understand Admiral Irons is reluctant to do so since it would draw attention to them in the political arena. It would also mean having some redundant effort and some power struggles he'd liked to avoid. Keeping everything under one umbrella is nice in theory but it isn't working out. ONI is too saturated, too busy juggling too many missions.”

“Yes, sir. I'm glad you understand,” the captain said wryly.

“Oh, I understand,” Yorgi said, snorting dryly. “It's doing something about it that's the hard part.”

“Yes, sir. That it is,” Monty drawled, taking a pull of his beer. “I don't think we'll ever get a handle on the location of every ship in the Gather fleet. At least we've got a better handle on the Battle Fleet war book, even if it is out of date.”

The admiral nodded. “Yes. I hadn't anticipated them deploying capital ships so soon. I'm at a loss as to how they are managing it.”

“From what I understand,” Monty said musingly, looking up, eyes distant as he focused on the problem, “the Gather Fleet would find a ship, either capture her or salvage a derelict. They'd put a prize crew on her and if possible get her functional enough to limp home. But if she couldn't under her own power, they'd get word back to a Pirate Den; we're still getting probable locations on those by the way,” he said in an aside.

Admiral Sienkov nodded sagely.

“Anyway, they would get word there, and if possible the den would ship in a salvage crew to assess the ship and make further repairs. If they had hardware, most of it civilian, they'd use it. Otherwise, they'd have to send home to Horath for someone to send out a ship with a big enough hyperdrive and the components to go with it.”

“Ah,” the admiral said. “Now see, that part I got.”

“Yes, sir. They would use the gear to get the ship back, then yank it and send it out to the next ship while their yard did what they could with the ship. Which was why our numbers were off. Many of the ships were listed as in mothballs or as sublight only with civilian hardware.”

“But that changed.”

“Yes, sir. Can you imagine it though?” Monty asked. “They've got to have dozens, potentially hundreds of ships still coming in. And how many did they lose in the process? And their crews?” He shook his head.

“Right,” the admiral drawled, thinking the problem over. “So, you assumed you had less than what we're dealing with?”

“I'm remembering what ASSume stands for, sir,” Monty said with a snort. Yorgi grimaced but nodded. “As to where they got the parts, I'm thinking it is
El Dorado
. I don't think they shipped them in though.”

“Oh?”

“A few years ago
Firefly
ran into a
Cutlass
class destroyer in New Andres,” he said. He related the story of the engagement. “After it, we, we meaning ONI and Admiral Irons, was puzzled by how they could unlock his hardware. He'd sent a care package in
Kiev 221
you see.”

“And they got past the lockouts. I see,” the admiral mused, rubbing his chin.

“Yes, sir. We found out there had been sleepers on board. We're not sure what possessed them to help the pirates though.”

“Brainwashing?”

“Any sign of captivity and someone's implants prompt the host to suicide. Any attempt to bypass them and it will suicide the host on its own. Any use of chemical or other means triggers it …”

“So they did something else—something psychological. Tricky to pull off, but apparently it's doable,” he said.