Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (72 page)

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“Did you see all the ships there? They are building up a force. My question is, why Garth and why not Dead Drop?” Commander Roshou asked.

“I'm more concerned with scandalizing the lord and lady. Are we going to get that sort of reaction in the House and Senate?” the major asked, looking over to Admiral von Berk.

Admiral von Berk swirled his drink as he looked at the simulated fireplace. They'd even gone so far as to outfit the thing with river rock. Hopefully they were plastic shells; he couldn't see expending that sort of mass for show.

But then again, the old federation had been odd with little quirks like that, he thought.

“Sir?” Rick asked tentatively, cutting through his woolgathering.

“Sorry. Yes, I saw the ships. Garth seems abuzz with activity these days. I'm not sure why they are here; someone might have backstopped the majority of them,” he stated. “Politics no doubt. I don't know if the praetor is aware of it or not. His family's holdings are in Dead Drop after all.”

“I … see, sir,” the commander said.

“I sincerely doubt it. There may be more involved, who knows,” the admiral said downing his drink. “And yes, the lord's reaction bothered me. But they are a small sampling, not the entire government. Our orders were clear,” he said.

“Yes, sir. I just wish we were a part of whatever is going on. A balloon is going up, and we're missing it,” the major said.

“You just want to get some revenge,” the commander retorted.

The major turned to eye him and then shrugged. “So what if I am?” he asked. “You can't tell me you haven't the same thing in mind,” he said.

“Touché,” the commander murmured. “Knowing my luck I'd be stuck in the reinforcements or the fleet train,” he said with a grimace.

“Seeing that they are sending so much,” the admiral started then stopped. After a moment he shrugged. “I'd say I'm grateful that they are resupplying Cyrano so much. That they are taking the threat so seriously,” he growled.

“They are getting plenty of fire power and support while we got bupkis?” Major Eichmann complained. “Typical, the Gather Fleet brings in the best but gets dregs while Battle Fleet sucks it all up and demands more,” he snarled.

“It goes to show you, the Gather Fleet is on its way out. We should look into a transfer,” Commander Roshou replied thoughtfully. He glanced at his admiral. He wasn't certain if he wanted to continue to hold the man's coattail or not. He wasn't as confident that the admiral would get the hero's welcome that he was anticipating, and that made him a bit nervous. It could mean the admiral was in for a long drop … and he might get thrown in for good measure.

Not thoughts that helped him he thought, trying to put them aside.

The admiral grunted. He considered the option carefully. It wasn't as half-baked as it sounded. After a moment he nodded. “Not a bad idea. I know there has been a lot of talk about integrating the two navies for decades. Perhaps it is time,” he said finally as all eyes turned to him.

“If they are integrating them, can we transfer easily? Will we lose rank I wonder?” Rick asked thoughtfully.

“Who knows? For the time being, we do our jobs the best we can,” Major Eichmann replied. “As long as we still have them,” he muttered in an aside as the admiral walked out.

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Duchess Glennis Pardoll Tucket felt relief as she noted
Friar Tuck's
departure. It felt good to get the baroness and marquis out of her hair. Them and their families, she thought. She had been forced to backstop the liner, but it would be worth it just to have the two simpering fools out of her hair for the next six months or more she thought.

She smiled. And she'd managed to tuck in a few of her love letters to Frank as well. He was the real reason she'd wanted the liner stopped though. Their plan to skim off the reinforcements was working out quite well, she thought, eying the small but growing fleet in orbit of the planet and around the Dead Drop jump point.

She was her husband's partner, his XO. She ruled Garth in his stead while he continued his work as prime minister. It was a match made in heaven for each of them, politics and ambitions, all rolled into one convenient package. They might not get many chances to see each other in person, but they did treasure such times.

She smiled again as she read the report from
Friar Tuck
. Admiral De Gaulte had asked for more reinforcements, and he'd drawn down the supplies in Dead Drop. She nodded as she scanned the original and then ran some calculations again.

If she was careful, she could backstop the reinforcements and skim off a good 10 to 20 percent without anyone raising a fuss. It would be easier with cargo; skimming ships wasn't so simple. She'd wanted to take the entire force destined for Dead Drop, but Frank's accompanying letter had forbidden it. Instead she'd passed on most of the supplies and the damn frigates but had held onto a tithe of gunships and corvettes. Those wouldn't be missed much. If Captain Abernly did take note, well, she'd remind him of his debt to her to shut him up.

She frowned thoughtfully. Calling in the marker now was risky she knew. So was the game she and Frank were playing. It would certainly eventually make the ears of the praetor. Of that she was certain of. But better to build a fallback position in case Dead Drop fell … not that she expected it to.

But just in case, she thought, justification assured for the moment. She nodded once and then went back to work reading the report while typing notes into another file for later review.

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“Doctor, you are going to need to handle the politics involved while also handling the dog and pony show of your subjects and the advancement of the project. Are you certain you are up for it?” Admiral von Berk asked.

The doctor grimaced then nodded. “If I can find a balance, certainly. I do hope you can shield me as much as possible from the political hoopla though, sir. The more I can concentrate on my work, the faster we get results you see,” he said.

The admiral nodded grudgingly.

“I believe this will work, and we can make fine changes to each generation to bring them in line with our expectations. That will allow us to phase out or regulate the less … adaptable subjects to other duties,” the doctor said carefully.

“I know, Doctor,” the admiral said. “I'm concerned about how fast you can expand your subjects though,” he said.

“That is honestly not my field, Admiral,” the doctor admitted. The admiral stared at him. He spread his hands in supplication. “I'm a doctor of psychology, not OBGYN or genetics,” he admitted. “Obviously host mothers will be out of the question. I highly doubt we'll be able to find any Horathian willing to bring one to term. I suppose we could find someone financially desperate, but it could have complications.” he mused. “It would be safer and more efficient to use artificial wombs. That would allow us to continue to use the subjects we currently have. I don't know how many are available though.”

The admiral nodded slowly.

“Do you think anyone got the prize before we did?” the doctor asked with a slightly worried tone of voice.

“I don't know, sir. The prize was for water dwellers and A.I. I think people would focus on the A.I. over the water dwellers due to the scope of the problem of handling the water dwellers. But we were specifically tasked with finding both.”

“But we only found the one,” the doctor reminded him.

“I know. But we did capture a lot of databases including one from this new federation. There are some software kits in them. Commander Roshou flagged them. They should help on that front,” he said.

The doctor nodded. Due to the crude A.I.s in the Horathian ships, they were not as efficient as federation ships. The lack of an A.I. hampered their fighting, hyperspace range, and abilities across the board. It was also tied into the skillset of the crews though, the better the crew the more efficient they were, but the admiralty was aware that the A.I. tied things together.

They didn't want smart A.I. however. A smart A.I. could rebel. He frowned thoughtfully. “Sometimes I wish I'd explored that field a bit more,” he admitted. After a moment he shrugged. “Ah well, the road not traveled I suppose. We need to focus on our own achievement,” he said.

The admiral nodded again.

“Our training continues. We haven't hit any resistance or bumps; I think we're past most of them, though we might hit some if our subjects get a negative reaction in Horath. We're going to need to sequester them quickly and quietly, sir,” the doctor warned.

“Of course,” the admiral murmured. “I wish you could have performed some reconstructive surgery. Removed some of their odd appendages and such. Made them look more … human,” he said.

The doctor frowned. “To do so would reduce their abilities to be in the water. I admit it would help with some of our programming and identity issues that crop up. Mara is our best subject, sir. Combine her DNA with some of the clones we've found, and we should have fantastic pilots and helmsman.”

“In a generation or more,” the admiral growled. “Even with force growth, it will take years to get them up to speed and educating them as well,” he shook his head.

“True. I'll be involved in their training of course,” the doctor said smugly. “I'm afraid this is the last of my adventures, at least for the foreseeable future, quite possibly forever. I don't see a downside, no offense,” he said with a small smile and bow to the admiral. “Although I've enjoyed your company immensely, sir, I would very much like to get to some place safe and perform my work in security and comfort with a lot more resources than a ship can provide,” he said.

“Agreed, Doctor,” the admiral said with a snort. He wouldn't miss the doctor. Quite the contrary.

“Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go over these new educational practices I downloaded while we were in Garth orbit,” the doctor said, rising from his seat. “There have been some remarkable advances in shaping and molding our youth while bringing them closer to federation standards in math and engineering. I am curious about what I can use to apply to my subjects,” he said with some relish.

“Don't forget to do your rounds, Doctor,” the admiral warned.

The doctor nodded. “It might do you some good to get out and stretch your legs, sir, if you don't mind my saying so. Escorting the water dwellers is simple. They are rather placid after all. It has become slightly more difficult with the additional passengers however. Someone with your rank and stature would make others give way.”

“I'll consider it.”

“It is beneath your station I know, sir. Just a thought,” the doctor said as he paused near the hatch. He nodded once when the admiral didn't say anything and then departed without a further word.

Chapter 29

“Admiral,” Protector said from the desktop.

“Yes?” Admiral Irons asked, not looking up from the report he'd been reading.

“In this case I suppose I am addressing Admiral Sienkov first,” the A.I. said, using his avatar to face Admiral Sienkov.

“Yes?” the admiral asked, looking up from his seat.

“Fortress command had reported a courier arrival at the B459c jump point. It is transmitting a high priority message for ONI eyes only. It is the courier with the download from Second Fleet, sir.”

“About time,” the admiral growled.

“They report that warships will be following soon, sir,” the A.I. stated, turning his holographic image to Admiral Irons.

“Good,” the admiral said.

“It'll be some time before they get to us. Two, three days,” Admiral Sienkov mused.

“So …,” Admiral Irons asked.

“So, I'm wondering if I should order Lieutenant Locke to stop the download or not,” Yorgi replied.

“Well, it'd be nice to preserve some of the ansible connection,” Admiral Irons said with a snort.

“Okay. I just hate waiting for something I know is coming but is still out of reach. And I can't get them to upload it to us with a whisker laser since it's encrypted and protected,” he sighed.

“Right. Just going to have to exercise some patience,” Admiral Irons replied with a brief smile. “ETA on the wounded ships is still the same, Protector?” he asked, addressing the A.I.

“Aye, sir. Barring any unforeseen difficulties in transit along the way. The first will get here in another two weeks,” the A.I. reported.

“Very well. Now, since Monty can handle the download, let's say you and I stick to our schedule before someone tracks us down and scowls at us for wandering off of it,” Admiral Irons said with a twist of his lips.

“Oh, very well. If only to not to have to listen to the long suffering sighs,” Yorgi replied picking his tablet up again. But he couldn't help but put an image of the plot up to see the status of the courier's progress across the star system.

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Courier
UFDV-010S
returned to Protodon ahead of the retreating Second Fleet beating their previous transit record by nearly fifteen minutes. “I see we beat them,” Monica said with an indulgent smile to her crew. They'd pulled out all the stops to get their warning off to Protodon as quickly as possible. “Damn fine work, folks,” she said in approval.