Federation Reborn 2: Pirate Rage (87 page)

Act III

Chapter
49

April grimaced as she read the latest news on the wire. Not much was happening; the only new thing was an intelligence conference scheduled at the growing naval base. She had found out about it through John ahead of time but had decided to resist letting it slip to her viewers.

Besides, she only had his word, no independent corroboration.

It was tempting to hint about it though; she'd seen a few people had come in on the convoys. She had seen a couple familiar faces from Pyrax around the Antigua Prime college quad on Friday.

No, she shook her head. She needed a prime time piece for the six o'clock but that probably wouldn't fly. Not with corporate … and definitely not with John. If he'd wanted people to know about it, he would have advertised it. Since it was an intelligence conference, it was undoubtedly hush hush for a reason.

Could she probe for the time line on TF22's planned offensive? She knew about it. By now it was an open secret … but no, there were no changes there, not in the past week. Admiral White was still training his forces.

She frowned thoughtfully. She was pretty sure that White wanted a bigger chunk of First Fleet and Third Fleet to complete his mission. He was right, but they had to defend those two star systems. Getting into the middle of that and kicking off a public outcry wouldn't help John … especially with all the flack he was still receiving from the Horathian's bombardment of ET, Protodon, and their escape.

She shook her head. No, she'd have to poll the other stations and see what they had. Maybe make some discrete calls and see what their competitors were doing.

If only she had a larger budget! She shook her red locks. If that tight-fisted bastard Knox would loosen up the advertising revenue he was rolling in, she would be able to hire a few more eyes and ears. She was entirely too reliant on her old sources, some of which were holding out their hands for more credits or had given her sketchy info or had sold the same info to her competitors.

She shook her head. It was easier when she had been a reporter on Anvil. Now things were complicated with the company going corporate and spending so much on setting up affiliates in other star systems while also buying ansible time to keep them interlinked.

She frowned thoughtfully. She could poke John a little … maybe ask about setting up independent civilian ansible networks? Knox would like the idea but not the cost. If John balked she could see herself turning on the charm and sweet reason to get him to follow her lead, she thought with a small smile. She wiggled a little at the thought.

An independent ansible network would theoretically free up the current net of some bandwidth while also being independent of the government. Set up and maintaining it though … she frowned thoughtfully. Maybe, maybe if she primed the pump and put some calls in with some friends in congress, felt them out, maybe it would work.

And maybe the Federation government would help pay for it too she thought with a slightly broader smile.

---<>))))

The intelligence conference was a rare thing; one that hadn't been held in recent memory actually. But it had to be done; they needed to get everyone on the right page, Monty mused. But to do that they had to gather as many intelligence officers, noncoms, and enlisted in one place. To drill into them what they knew and the importance of getting more information and confirmation of specific items of interest.

In other words, it was cards on the table time.

He didn't like it. In fact, he
hated
the idea. Not only was there risk involved in shipping so many intel officers to one place, but it was also a pain in the ass. But he had no choice; the admiral was right. The time for playing games was in the past; they needed to get accurate intel quickly or it could be game over.

His eyes roved the group to Commander Teague, then to Commander Lake and other familiar faces. They were there, some in the front row, others dispersed in the crowd with the fellow officers assigned to them. Officers and senior enlisted from almost every star system they had forces on were there.

They were going to hit a lot of topics. The intel dump from Protodon, Epsilon Triangula, and the latest intel from other star systems were only the tip of the iceberg. Hopefully by inducing cross pollination they'd make some advances.

One could only hope he thought.

He looked over to Commander Sung and nodded. Sung was a good sort, a better speaker than he was, and therefore Monty had dropped the speaker's position on his shoulders. He'd taken the assignment with a hint of relish, which told the captain that he'd found the right man for the job, or at least he hoped so.

They'd find out in a moment either way.

The commander nodded back and rose to his feet before he walked to the podium.

“Let us begin,” Commander George Sung said as he took his place. The group quieted and turned to him expectantly. He nodded to Lieutenant Fletcher. Commander Sprite was hovering somewhere around no doubt.

“It's about time,” Lieutenant Fletcher said, shaking his holographic head in disgust. “I know you don't like sharing information, sir, but we've got to get this sorted out ASAP. It's time to bring out our A game.”

“It's about time for a lot of things,” a familiar voice said from the back of the room. Training took over as the sophonts in the room lunged to what their species accredited to attention. For humans it was standing with their thumbs aligned with the seams of their trousers, stiff, head up, eyes front.

Fleet Admiral Irons smiled slightly as he walked down the room to the front where the commander stood, also standing at attention. “If you don't mind, I'll be doing some of this initial briefing, George,” he said, indicating the lectern.

“Uh, yes, sir,” the commander replied with a nod as he stepped aside. “The floor is yours, sir,” he said politely, indicating the room at large as he stepped up beside his boss. Monty saw him glance at him, but he only gave a miniscule shrug as if to say it was out of his hands.

“Thank you.” Admiral Irons said as he indicated the commander should grab a stool, then turned to the room at large. “At ease folks. Sit even. Let's get into this.” He waited for the rustle of bodies sitting or relaxing into a coil or other form before he started. “We know a bit about the enemy, but we haven't gotten into detail about it. Part of that is that we're still confirming what we know. The other parts are to: one, keep them from knowing what we know, and two, working our assets into and behind the lines to confirm things and get more details.”

He scowled slightly. “That's still an ongoing process. But I can tell you a bit of history, so try not to fall asleep. What we know is that Horath has had four groups in play.” He waited for the room to react, but they just watched him. A few were taking notes. “I'll upload the brief in a moment. It is eyes only at this moment.” He waited again, caught a few eyes and a few nods, then continued.

“You know about the pirates. They call themselves the Gather Fleet. You know about the real fleet, their Home Fleet. For the past several years, we've only dealt with the pirates. They were out there, and still are, roving this and other sectors, scouting for materials, doing some horrible things, and stealing what they can.”

“But, we now know there is a difference between the pirate fleet and the Home Fleet. Home fleet is more in line with navy traditions and is tougher. The makeup is Terran level I should point out of course.” he smiled a thin smile as he crossed his arms and rubbed the tip of his nose with his thumb. “Now, the other two elements we've only gotten wind of in the past year, though we've encountered one on Epsilon Triangula.”

He grimaced deeply, remembering the Xeno plague. The thousands that had died there. “They are a series of ships working ahead of the pirates as scouts, spies, couriers, and saboteurs.” There were a few grunts at that. More than one person was aware of the threat of detailed intelligence of their yards falling into the wrong hands. Now the idea of sabotage had to be contemplated.

“We've had to deal with that recently with the latest attack on
Bismark
. But I'll get around to that, or the commander will in a bit,” the admiral stated flatly, glancing at the commander and then back to the room full of officers and noncom enlisted.

“That is not to be confused with their first through Fourth Fleet we've encountered. The previous fleets were conquerors. Fourth Fleet was a raiding force after specific targeted material or people.” His bleak thoughts turned briefly to Mara and the others with her before he forced himself to move on.

“The fourth group we only just got confirmation of on Protodon, though there were indications here in Antigua,” he stated. “Apparently the spy ships dropped off people or they moved through regular freighter traffic to a post. Then they set up a partisan column there to support the spies, and eventually support any invasion force. They were, or I should say, are there to do the initial spade work. To make sure the enemy has a ripe place to land and take root.”

He grimaced. “They take the disillusioned, the young people if possible, and twist them into fitting what they need. On Protodon they became a sort of Hitler youth slash Neo-Nazi, slash bigoted group in various classes and cultures of the planet. It ranges from the poor class right up to the rich. Humans of course,” he said with a black scowl.

“They are laying the groundwork for the invasions that follow. They make it easier for the invaders to have the intel they need, plus the local conditions and a group of partisans to draw on as a reserve or cannon fodder.”

“They secure the planet, take every weapon into their armory, then go about their genocidal plans. It ropes the partisans in deeper and deeper.”

“That's sick,” a lieutenant muttered.

“It's one of the ways Hitler was so successful. Brainwashing, propaganda, the need to be powerful, and the idea that you are making a better world if you follow along and do as you are told. Unfortunately, it works.” The admiral grimaced. “There was an experiment, a psychological one some oh, two thousand or so years ago on old Earth. A scientist wanted to see what it would take to make people turn evil—normal, ordinary people, given a moral dilemma. They were conditioned to obey while they tortured another person.”

“And this is science?”

“The victim in this case was an actor or actress who screamed when the subject pressed a button. Then they followed a script. You'd be surprised how much self-justification and such went into the various levels of it. That and denial that they were doing anything wrong.”

More than one face grimaced at that idea.

“The Horathians can use both, the carrot and stick. Reward compliance and good behavior, punish those who refuse to obey or participate with harsh measures. Whatever it takes.”

“That's still sick.”

“You say that from this perspective. You aren't there. It's easy for us to judge here and now. There? When you see someone holding a gun to your wife or daughter? Or you need the medicine to keep them alive? Food to keep them fed?” The admiral glanced at the commander then to the group, then away. “I'm not happy about it, but I can see the reasoning from both perspectives. That doesn't change the fact that what they are doing is wrong. Anyway, we'll deal with it when we have to, where we have to,” the admiral said. He nodded firmly. “Moving on.”

“Our intelligence people that were inserted there and elsewhere confirmed the groups, and we are now looking for them on other member worlds. Some are rather easy to spot from their outspoken bigotry. We will monitor them and if necessary round them up.”

He paused, then shook his head as he began to pace. Heads turned, locked onto his presence. “They are a worry, a big one after what happened with
Bismark
.”

“But,” he paused and turned to them. “We've got a fifth group, one we are still trying to get a handle on. Up until this moment it has been highly classified and compartmentalized. I am now reading you in to what it is,
El Dorado
.” He waited a beat as they reacted slightly. After a moment he nodded once and the room quieted once more. “You know a little about it I bet. We've been pushing POW interviews and database searches hard for it. It is real; it does exist. Unfortunately, they are on the other side of the lines, so we can't get much detail on them, and the computer databases are mum about it.”

“Sir, nothing?” a lieutenant asked from the back of the room. People turned to her.

“Nothing from the pirate ships. The various groups were compartmentalized. Those who didn't have a need to know,
didn't
. And the Horathians did their best to prevent bleed over from one group to the other. There were some exceptions of course, and we've picked up one or two but they aren't talking much. What we have picked up is from our prisoners, so it makes the source and thus the intelligence highly suspect at the moment. Some of it is contradictory; some of it is supportive. Weeding that out to get a clear picture is something you folks will be working on.”

“Naval Intelligence, also known as ONI, or the Office of Naval Intelligence,” Admiral Irons slipped a glance to the commanders and then to the captain. “Is still working on various projects. You folks will be focused on that. Anything else you find you bookmark and pass on to the work groups assigned to them. We've got people building up a picture of life on Horath, the conquered planets and such. Low level enlisted or others can do the dirty work there.
You
folks may have the toughest and most vital assignment. We only know it as the code name now,
El Dorado
. We know in general what it is, and we don't like it. Go out there and figure it out, where it is, and what's involved. From what we do know, it's a game changer. Somehow they have used it to unlock our replicator technology.” There was a small gasp at that news.