Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (13 page)

“Yes, sir. My people believe they pulled the humans out of stasis, then isolated them. Shipped them in to Horath first, then put them to work. Our INTEL says most are yard dogs, civilians,” he said.

“Which doesn't explain the unlocked hardware. But if they were construction workers, they could unlock some hardware. And show them how to build more.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Still no location on this
El Dorado
?” the admiral asked suddenly intent.

“No, sir. I'd let you know if we thought we had nailed it down.”

“I thought as much. Just checking,” the admiral said, sitting back in sudden defeat.

“The problem is people expect us to get what we don't
know
. The people we've captured and the databases can't tell us what they don't know, sir. It is frustrating. Some know about it, obviously, but it's word of mouth at best—scuttlebutt. A friend of a friend, that sort of thing. It isn't just a case of loose lips, though we're seeing some of that too.”

“Ah.”

“We know it is in Sigma. Somewhere in all that … clutter. Devastation. The void is vast and well …,” he shrugged helplessly. “We also know they've got a
Kaiju
coming in as well,” Monty said with a grimace.

“Damn,” the admiral murmured.

“Yes, sir. One of the ships the Gather Fleet found. It has been en route to Horath for decades,” he explained.

“Damn,” the admiral muttered. “I guess we can count our blessings that it isn't in Horath yet.”

“Yes, sir, there is that,” the captain said as he took another sip of his beer.

They made small talk for a little while, comparing life histories. Monty was ever respectful. Yorgi was fairly certain the other man knew what he was doing. The informal setting and alcohol was to put him at ease and to allow them to form a bond. He picked up on some of the resentment the other man still had but didn't comment on it initially.

“You're dancing around the subject,” Monty said taking another pull of his beer.

“And what's that?” the admiral asked mildly.

“Why I still have my job even though I never wanted it in the first place,” Monty replied wryly, studying the label on his long neck. “Why I did what I did.”

“It has come up in my thinking.”

“I … I always liked a mystery and spook stuff. But I never wanted the responsibility of sending people off to die without ever knowing if they did the job. To die, perhaps horribly, with no one knowing how they died or why. I knew it would eat at me. It does, but I also realized someone had to do it.”

“True enough,” the admiral said simply.

“I understand where Admiral Subert was coming from since he has a background in intelligence,” Monty said with a grimace. “I had fracked up—a lot.”

“You did what you could with what you had. You were learning on the job. Not easy. Same here. You were also overwhelmed with the data. Still are actually. I'm glad Irons cut you some slack.”

“Some say too much, sir. He's done the same about a lot of people and turned a blind eye to threats.” Monty grimaced. “That wasn't me talking bad about a superior officer.”

“That did sound a bit like it,” the admiral said coolly. “Too much beer?”

“No, sir,” Monty replied, immediately setting the bottle aside. “I don't know if you were briefed on his girlfriend …”

“The reporter? Yes.”

“Fully
briefed, sir?” Monty asked carefully, eying him curiously. It took a moment for the flag officer to stop and study him back to realize there was a bit more to the question and situation then he knew.

The flag officer frowned thoughtfully, curiosity awoken. “Fully … I know she is a leak due to her profession but …”

“She's
far
more than that, sir, far more than an easy security leak.” The captain stiffened. “I um … damn. My implants are pinging me. I'm getting a warning that I can't discuss it further, sir. Sorry, sir.” He shrugged.

“Well, you have intrigued me. I'll talk to Irons.”

“Yes, sir. Please do. You need to be fully briefed,” Monty said, changing the subject.

“I'll make certain it gets on my calendar.”

“Yes, sir.”

:::{)(}:::

Sprite was amused by quartz business that had recently started up. Someone had taken the idea of permanently etching crystals with information to what it had been in the days prior to the Xeno war.

She knew who too, John. Admiral Irons was determined to not let the dark ages happen again. Therefore, he had hired a company on Antigua Prime to laser etch quartz crystals with data. The process was a permanent one, done on the molecular level. A second laser could read the changes in the crystalline structure to get the information out.

It was almost useless for an A.I. who didn't just have to access the information, but add notations or other markers as realizations were made. But for some things, things that were bedrock to their society, she could see how having them in read-only memory would be appropriate.

The technology had been pioneered in the ancient days on Terra. It had also been used extensively by bug species and even the Taurens. Hard coded data was important to keep safe and involatile.

New Alexandria had taken that concept to the extreme. They had created glittering spires, bridges, and other monuments of sheet crystal throughout the star system. It had been a magnificent sight to behold, especially at night with LEDs and lasers lighting it all up in splendid displays of color.

There had even been a city dedicated to hard storage of data, appropriately called Crystal City.

Apparently the idea was trending and spreading throughout the federation. Admiral Irons had ordered data to be encoded and crystal monuments to be placed on every world or station. There were several monuments, one with basic information like history, science, medicine, and education. Another flashier version held the constitutions of the federation, both old and new.

She knew the one that touched the admiral's heart the most was the monument to the dead. This one was a monument unlike the first he'd dedicated in the previous year. This one was a shaft of crystal in space. Each layer was a list of names. Embedded with each were images of them, holograms, video, and their life story. So long as the monuments were there, they would not be forgotten. Their sacrifice wouldn't be forgotten.

:::{)(}:::

Admiral Irons realized he had a headache, a novel thing since he'd had implants. Also a rare thing since his nanites usually made adjustments like those to his BP. He knew he was frustrated by a number of things. His temper was growing shorter and getting the better of him, which exasperated the situation further.

Ordinarily Protector or Proteus would have adjusted his BP and administered measures to stop the headache. He checked as he made the adjustments manually. Protector was in a conference and Proteus was in a class.

The dumb A.I. had come a long way since he'd been first envisioned as an engineering tool and design aide, he thought. He checked the class—Theoretical Engineering System Design. He nodded, appropriate given the A.I.'s core programming. Next on his schedule were Engineering Diagnostics and Repair 101, also appropriate. Apparently Proteus had stretched himself, but stuck to his roots in the process. Probably a good thing, he thought, envisioning the silver blob trying to teach history or math.

He was tempted to play hookey. To audit the class just to see the reactions of the students. He wouldn't mind being a fly on the wall but it wouldn't be worth it. What he'd wanted to see had already transpired, the student's initial reactions to the novel experience of having an A.I. and silver holographic blob as their instruction. The hands-on must be interesting he mused.

He shook his head. Did they have trouble with their digestive tracts when Proteus got moving too much? He snorted at the whimsical thought. It was so fascinating to see their reaction to what he took for granted. The wonder was … good for him. Unfortunately, it was in the middle of the semester. He made a note to check at the beginning days of the next semester if he had the time.

To see that wonder … it was refreshing. Everything new for people like them but yet old. He noted the students were both young and old. He nodded. Good.

Slightly reinvigorated by the momentary distraction, he took a deep breath and then went to work on the next project.

:::{)(}:::

The admiral read the morning news brief and nodded in appreciation as he took a sip of coffee.
Pelican,
the
Moth
class freighter he'd been on board briefly during his travels with
Io 11
had finally turned up in Triang of all places. He shook his head. It had taken them over a decade to get from Avalon to Triang. He sat back and whistled softly to himself. It had taken them nearly thirteen
years
to jump a measly four star systems! They'd spent three whole years in hyper going from Senka to Triang! He shook his head. The mind boggled at such traveling at such a slow plodding pace! Their itinerary said they'd made long layovers in orbit of New Texas and Syntia's World... he frowned thoughtfully and did the math. It didn't add up. Wherever they were, they weren't talking about it either, he noticed. He tried to put the thought out of his mind for the moment. He checked who was on
Pelican
.

...And found of course Captain Albright was still in charge. He and his Chief Engineer Garth had tagged the admiral's name and were trading on it with the Triang people. Along the way they'd picked up news of the new federation and some of the things the navy did. And he'd put in a request with the naval station in Triang for his ship to be repaired and upgraded. He'd also put out ads that his ship could haul cargo cheap.

Cheap, yes, but damn slow, the admiral thought with a shake of his head. Time sensitive cargo need not apply, nor people.

The admiral snorted at the track of his thoughts as well as what inspired them. Apparently word was indeed getting around that the navy was doing free safety inspections and minor repairs. But it was being blown out of proportion and some elements were now treating a courtesy as a right. He made a note to have a chat with Liobat over at public affairs about straightening out those perceptions. The Neolioness had taken over the public affairs department from Sprite … not that the commander didn't continue to dabble and stick her nose in occasionally to “help out.”

So, the lioness occasionally didn't quite complain but pointedly hinted that such help was unwanted.

Hard on the heels of
Pelican's
arrival were a series of requests coming in to explore new markets in the neighboring sectors. It meant the various corporations wanted to exploit their neighbors in other sectors—but only when the shipping was there—and the shippers wouldn't go unless it was safe to do so, which meant the navy needed to make it safe. And of course they had to find a way to pay for it all while fighting a war on the opposite front.

There was something wrong with sending badly-needed personnel and ships in the opposite direction from the front. Apparently no one had heard the ancient saying “march to the sound of the guns.”

Irons pursed his lips in humor. Or they knew there was no sound in space. Whatever, he thought. It was indeed the navy's job to make space safe or at least as safe as they could make it. He'd find a way.

His current tentative plan involved
Prometheus
and a revamped task force. He knew Phil wouldn't be thrilled about losing the production capacity the ship represented, but it was past time to do something about Tau sector.

He'd put the request from the Airea 3 delegates for a naval base in their star system off for a while longer. That one was going to be hotly debated as well. Perhaps he could combine both? Two birds with one stone? Have her stage from Airea 3 initially then move in to the sector when they found a better, more central star system to work from? It was possible, he thought. And she could work on some of the defenses in Airea 3 and their infrastructure while the scouts were at work during the first phase. He nodded and made a note to explore that plan in-depth further.

“Admiral Sienkov is here for his ten o'clock, sir,” Protector stated from the holographic image projector built into the admiral's desk.

The admiral looked up. “Have Yeoman Lajoy show him in.”

He rose when the admiral entered. He smiled briefly as the admiral came to attention, and then waved the man to take a seat. “Coffee?”

“Pass for the moment,” the admiral said, waving a hand and jutting his bottom lip out a little.

The admiral could see the other flag officer was slightly agitated. “That'll do, Uma, thank you. Tell Cookie to come by with a pot in an hour,” he said, waving a dismissive hand airily.

“Aye aye, Admiral,” the yeoman replied dutifully. She knew the admiral practically ran on the black stuff. Any other sophonts would have had their guts tied up by so much caffeine. It didn't seem to bother the admiral in the slightest, though he did occasionally ask for a minor change. Silently she departed, closing the hatch behind her.