Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (16 page)

“Yes,” Moira stated. “By all means,” she said with a nod.

“Good,” Captain Broken Antenna stated. “They don't need the water dweller pilots to ply space between Nuevo and Bek. From what I've read, Nuevo needs a kick to get them going.”

“Nuevo is a market Bek has exploited. But Nuevo hasn't been able to get any sort of balance in trade the other way unfortunately,” T'rel'n stated. “They are too dependent on industrial centers in Bek.”

“True,” Sandra'kall stated. “We will work on that.”

“Good in theory, but the credits have to come from somewhere,” T'rel'n stated peevishly.

“We'll work it out. But now you know how we're planning to move men, material and ships through the rapids. It will remain a bottleneck and will continue to be one for a while.”

“I imagine ships will stack up on either end. One would almost think finding another route in would be imperative,” Bengali stated.

“There is one other way in,” the admiral stated. That made a Moira and Admiral Sienkov stiffen and look at him warily. “I had considered it, but the entrance is highly dangerous. I'm also going to classify it.”

“Classify … are we allowed to at least know it?” Broken Antenna asked.

The admiral sized the alien insect up for a few moments then looked at Sprite. She spread her hands apart. “I don't see how it can hurt. The route itself can remain classified, Admiral. And anyone who does know the entrance point wouldn't want to go there anyway,” she stated.

Admiral Irons grunted as all eyes fell on him. Finally, he exhaled. “Fine, but you aren't going to like it.”

“Sir?” Broken Antenna asked carefully.

“Crellis,” he stated succulently.

That made everyone sit back and express a wave of revulsion and disbelief. He nodded as they cleared the air. “Right. No one will want to go there.
No
one
. So, I'll leave it at that.”

“I wonder if we should have built defenses on the jump point to … where does it go?” Admiral Sienkov demanded.

“Direct to Bek. It is a very long route, a bit convoluted and perilous. Definitely not for the faint of heart. It is why the rapids were used instead.” It wasn't quite true actually. The real jump point was in the empty star system of B-107, two jumps away from Crellis but one away from B-103c5. They didn't need to know the real location, just that it existed. If the news did ever get out, let someone look in the wrong and rather dangerous place he reasoned. It would certainly make most of them think more than twice about trying it.

“I can see that,” Bengali stated, bringing the admiral back to the here and now.

“Well, I don't. I've been in the rapids. If it is long, it's better than going through them!” Moira stated, shuddering theatrically.

“It would quadruple your time to get there in just that jump alone. And then you'd have to get there,” Sprite explained as if to a child. She replaced her image with a holo map. “To get to Crellis, you'd have to jump an additional five star systems southeast,” she said, highlighting the route, “then turn around and do the long jump. The geometry is such that you could probably jump from here as well,” she highlighted an empty star system two jumps in from Crellis. “But it is just, if not more, dangerous and uncharted.”

“Oh,” Moira stated.

“Best to go with what we've got,” Admiral Sienkov stated. The others nodded or signaled reluctant assent.

“In order to get more personnel out, we're discussing leasing a liner or using stasis pods to move the personnel in a timely manner. The stasis pod option isn't a popular one,” the admiral stated.

Moira shivered. “I should hope not! Though it would lessen life support costs. And it would definitely ease the anxiety quotient while in the rapids I suppose,” she said reluctantly.

“True,” the admiral stated. “The problem is the larger the ship is the bigger the helm team needs to be and the better they need to be. They can travel in the lower hyperbands but that stretches the transit time out and prolongs the damage to the ship and fatigue on the helm crew.”

“Which isn't good. Now I see why you mentioned a station on either end,” T'rel'n stated thoughtfully. “You are considering personnel, ships and cargo stacking up there?”

“Yes,” Captain Broken Antenna stated. “I see it too, especially with what, only two crews? Can we get more?”

“Eventually. There are a few in the pipeline, but only a few,” Sprite stated.

“Can we recruit more? I'd think if we offered them the right incentives they'd jump at the chance,” Moira stated.

“It's not that simple. Waving credits only helps some people. For the water dwellers, they live hand to mouth. Some barely understand the concept of credits. And living in space for them is harsh and challenging. Living under military discipline makes it even harder,” the admiral stated.

Admiral Sienkov nodded. He remembered an entry about a Neosealion helmswoman, something about her not wanting to be in the navy after being drafted? He made a mental note to look into it.

“Part of the problem is we can't force them to be helmsman either,” Sprite said, apparently echoing the intelligence minister's thoughts. “We received some backlash on that already.”

“Lovely,” Moira sighed, pursing her lips in annoyance. “So they are as much of a pain in the ass as they were before the war,” she grumbled.

“To each his or her own. What about the Ssilli project? Project Resurrection? And didn't I read some expenditure reports on Agnosta?” T'rel'n asked, looking at Doctor Kraft.

“That is … a long-term project I suppose you could say,” Doctor Kraft said. He seemed to gulp then turned and burped into his hand. “Excuse me, sorry, I shouldn't have had tomatoes on my eggs I guess,” he said.

Admiral Irons cracked a small smile of sympathy.

“Um, yes, anyway, I understand Doctor Thornby,” he glanced at Admiral Irons, “has made some significant progress, but they have a very high mortality rate. Unfortunately, it looks like an artificial environment is the only way to ensure species reproduction at this point, unless that Ssilli world can be found,” he stated. He spread his hands apart. “But from the autopsy reports I've seen, it's not a permanent solution there either. Both bodies had high traces of metal poisoning. The seas are rough on that planet as well.”

“So, no answer there. And even if they were being hatched, they'd still take years to grow up and then they'd have to decide if they wanted to join or not,” Moira stated.

“Freedom and all its privileges,” the admiral stated. “No one is a slave.”

Moira frowned then nodded. “My apologies if I implied otherwise.”

“You didn't. I wanted to make sure we're all on the same page,” the admiral stated.

“We are a bit off topic and need to move this along,” Sprite said politely. “Table this. I can forward you a brief. But it will be brief since we're keeping a lot of Project Resurrection classified for the moment,” she stated.

“Why?” Bengali asked.

“We don't want to get people's hopes up, and we don't want them to be a target,” Sprite instantly answered.

“Oh.”

“Giving the doctors and those involved the chance to work quietly in peace takes the pressure off,” Admiral Irons stated. He held up a hand when he realized the Veraxin treasurer was about to object. “Yes, that is a good and bad thing. People sometimes work better with a deadline. But some things can't be rushed. Only heartache can happen if we push them too far too fast.”

“I understand and concur. We don't want to get people's hopes up only to dash them. And it wouldn't look good for the administration,” the Veraxin stated.

“No, no it wouldn't,” Sprite stated. “New construction,” she stated, looking significantly at the admiral.

“And now we all know who's really calling the shots,” Admiral Irons quipped with a smile. That earned a brief chuckle. When it ended he flipped his tablet to that section. He glanced at it then nodded. “New construction is in three parts—civilian, military, and infrastructure—though we have subcategories for Bek since they are out of contact.”

“True. For now,” Admiral Sienkov stated.

“I was wondering if Bek has laid its first hyper-capable warship yet or commerce ship?” Captain Broken Antenna asked, looking directly at the intelligence minister.

“Your guess is as good as mine, ma'am. I'm here not there. I know Admiral Irons,” he nodded politely to the fellow flag officer, “sent samples and materials to help us upgrade. How far along that project is, I don't know at this point. I guess you could say it depends on how much our people grasped the concepts and how much political support or problems came into play,” he said, glancing at Moira.

“And that means?” George Custard asked.

“He means not everyone in Bek was happy about being found. And there are some factions in the government who want us, excuse me,” Moira coughed into her hand. “Um, I meant Bek to remain isolated.”

“Isolationists,” Sprite stated.

“Horatio is going to have his work cut out for him then,” the admiral stated. He waved a hand. “Back to the subject,” he said when Protector blinked his clock on his HUD at him to get his attention, “before Protector and Sprite blow a gasket and our various staffs storm in gnashing their teeth over our screwing up their carefully crafted plans for the day,” he said with a grin. Sprite rolled her eyes. “Infrastructure is up to Sandra'kall as you know,” he said. “As far as civilian ships, I understand it is currently saturated, but a new collective is trying to get off the ground in Pyrax,” he said looking questioningly to the Centaurian. She nodded her massive head. “Okay. So, naval construction is on track here in Antigua and Pyrax. We've made good the damage to
Bismark
…”

“Anything more on the investigation there?” Mister Custard asked, looking at Admiral Sienkov.

“No.” the admiral stated.

“Damn,” George replied.

“Um, anyway,” the admiral said pointedly. “As I was saying,
Bismark
is out undergoing her builder's trials again. Her delay allowed her sister ship,
Quirine
,
and division mate to catch up to her. Her commissioning ceremony will be in a month.”

“A
month
?” George Custard asked, blinking in astonishment. “How astonishing!”

“Yes, five weeks actually. The twentieth I think,” the admiral said glancing at Sprite. She nodded. “Sindri and his people pulled out all the stops. He's switched the capital ship line over to SDs now, super dreadnaughts,” he said by way of explanation to Bengali. The Neocat flicked his ears in acknowledgement.

“Which are prohibitively expensive,” T'rel'n complained.

“Heh. Wait until you see the cost of battle moons and battle planets,” Sprite teased.

“Please spare me,” the Veraxin said warily.

“I don't think we'll go there. Not hyperflight capable ones at any rate. For the moment we'll stick to the ones we currently have,” Admiral Irons stated.

“So, not much change there,” Moira stated. “While you pointed that out, a thought occurred to me. I'm concerned about the stasis pod plan. The liner plan as well I suppose, but I keep getting the whole eggs in one basket feeling,” she said. “What happens if we lose a ship?”

The admiral grimaced as he changed mental tracks. “Any ship with that number of people on it … you have to take every precaution. There is a lot of investment in it. The loss of life would be horrible as well.”

“True. Loosing ten or more thousand people would be hell. Trained personnel …,” Admiral Sienkov said soberly.

“We have to proceed cautiously and not let our eagerness get the better of ourselves and the helm team. They need to learn to handle it. The good news is, every time they transit we learn a little more about what they are up against and what they can handle. But we can't send them in and expect them to set speed records either.”

“True.” Broken Antenna said. “My implants are pinging,” she said apologetically.

“We're just about done here. I think we can table the rest for next week?” the admiral asked as he rose to his feet. The cabinet secretaries nodded or signaled assent as they too rose. “Fine then. Have a good afternoon everyone,” he said with a nod.

:::{)(}:::

Moira didn't have a lot of time to digest how the cabinet meeting had gone. She was still adjusting to her new role, and her growing staff took charge of her the moment the meeting ended. She noted the auburn-haired Blake Bergen aka BB, her personal assistant, waiting for her with her security detail. They immediately fell in line with her as she walked to the lift. “Ma'am, we have a working lunch planned and then you have more in briefs. And I understand you've lined up additional sleep teaching to get yourself caught up on the agenda and various roles you have to fill, so I've blocked time for you to cut out early to get some sleep.”

“I don't know if that's needed,” Moira stated.

“Trust me, ma'am, as someone speaking from experience it is. Sleep teaching can be like trying to read a massive novel all at once.”

“I see,” the secretary said. She glanced at her personal secretary. Assistant, she reminded herself. BB was a good man, a bit stiff and wimpy, but he got the job done. At least he had so far. And he was easy on the eyes. Pity the man was gay.