Retribution (The Federation Reborn Book 3) (54 page)

Admiral Irons nodded slowly. The dwarf engineer was correct. Unfortunately, they couldn't hold her back.
“
I know
Bismark
still not 100 percent but enough to get her and her division mate under way now,” Admiral Irons stated. He turned to Otto. “Get her moving now, along with her
Quirinus
, the carriers, First Battle Cruiser Squadron, and all the supplies we can send to them.”

“Timeline?” Otto asked, lifting his stylus as he held his tablet up.

“I want them moving in less than twenty-four hours. Twelve if we can arrange it.” He turned to Commander Bloodhound. “You need to get your people cracking ASAP, Portia,” he warned.

“And if the Congress objects, sir?” Commander Bloodhound, the G-8 Logistics head asked.

Admiral Sienkov nodded. “He's doing what any good officer does. He's marching them to the sound of the guns.”

“Before the politicians get involved and howl bloody murder or try to stop it. The faster they get out of the system the better I'll feel,” Admiral Irons growled.

“Let's hope it's not too late by the time they arrive,” Otto said. “They are going to hustle in untried ships. Something could go wrong,” he warned.

“Yes. There is that. Fighting forward will keep the battle from happening
here
. That too is important,” Admiral Sienkov stressed, eying the other members of the naval staff. That statement extracted reluctant nods from some of them.

:::{)(}:::

“Admiral Irons, sir?” a familiar voice called over the link. Admiral Irons blinked and then looked up to see Captain Harris's holographic image projected in his office. “I'm sorry; I was indisposed when your call came through initially, sir,” Harris stated as he adjusted his uniform a bit.

“Caught you napping, Dwight?” The other man shrugged. “Relax, I know we all have to sleep sometime,” he said, waving a hand. “Jack in.” When the other man blinked and then did so, he nodded again. “Dwight, you know what's going on,” Admiral Irons said. The other man nodded. “Good. We can skip the small talk about how you and
Dawning of a New Day
are doing and get to the important stuff. You'll get the full briefing in an upload if you haven't already. I'm using my presidential authority to frock you to Commodore. Congratulations.” With that simple sentence, he uploaded the commands to alter the man's rank and give him the keys he would need for his new rank.

“Sir?” Harris asked in disbelief, eyes wide as he received the upload. The sudden elevation wasn't what he'd had envisioned for his future. He'd thought he'd have a nice ceremony, broadcast of course … but this …

“Relax, you were going to get it soon enough anyway,” the admiral replied wryly. “And you're going to see the rank as a curse as much as a gift soon enough, Dwight. You're taking command of
Bismark
and
Quirinus;
you can make up your mind if you want to transfer your flag to one of them or stay on
Dawning of a New Day.
Up to you. I'm dispatching a scratch flag staff for you now, and a replacement captain.

“I … if it is the same to you, sir, I've flown my lights on
Bismark,
but if you want this movement expedited, I don't want to take the time and swap ships and get the feel for her again. I suppose I can do that en route.”

“Good. You're taking the First Battle Cruiser Squadron with you as well as many carriers and supply ships I can scare up. Needless to say, you move at flank speed; the other ships can catch up in due time. We'll probably send a steady stream. You're going to send a courier back to B458 if Protodon is in danger of falling.”

“She won't be, sir. We'll see to that.”

“I'm counting on you ,Dwight. Kick ass.”

“I'll get it done, sir,” Harris said with a nod.

“You all will. Team effort,” the admiral said. “No glory, no riding to the rescue. Just stop the bastards.”

“Aye aye, sir.”

“Dismissed, Commodore with my congratulations. Now git before someone bitches about it.”

The newly-minted flag officer cracked a smile. “Aye aye, Admiral,” he replied. He saluted. Admiral Irons returned the salute and then struck it. The commodore struck his own smartly, then cut the channel.

:::{)(}:::

Protests began in Congress before he'd even announced that he intended to send the ships off. Apparently they were learning he thought in annoyance.

“We need those ships to defend the capital! The real federation!” A woman on the street said.

“And apparently Protodon isn't part of the federation,” the admiral murmured.

“Well, technically it isn't, Admiral,” Protector stated. “They are a protectorate and in negotiation to join. That isn't the same.”

“I'm not going to give up the ground. Not when we'll have to pay for it in blood twice and not when we'd get a damn black eye if we leave.”

“Classic catch twenty-two,” the A.I. replied.

“Exactly. Call a press conference,” he ordered.

“Shouldn't that come from Commander Sprite or Miss Liobat, sir?”

The admiral growled. “What do you think?” he finally asked.

“Putting in the call to Liobat and Commander Sprite and alerting the media, sir. When do you want it?”

“When are the ships getting under way?”

“Now, sir.”

“Give them an hour to get up and frothing, then I'll step out and do my best to nip this hysterical crap in the bud,” he said. “Preferably before it gets out of hand.”

“More so than it already is I hope,” Protector observed as he made the calls.

:::{)(}:::

“Was Second Fleet destroyed? Are you covering that up? Is the enemy sending a massive fleet against us?” a reporter demanded stridently.

“I …”

“So is the president going to make a statement? Or is he going to pass it to the Naval public affairs department?” a reporter asked as the admiral made his final approach to the press room. “So far we've gotten crap.”

Liobat started to answer but a mutter of consternation and some looks from people who caught the motion of his security detail taking their places outside the door stalled her response.

“I'll take that if you don't mind, Liobat,” the admiral said as he marched from behind the door and into the room without an announcement.

The Neocat gaped at him then smiled as she stepped aside from the podium. “Of course, sir.” She bowed slightly then stepped back and behind him.

“Good evening,” Admiral Irons said as he took the podium. He rested both hands on the lectern. He was shooting from the hip here and knew it could be dangerous, but he had to make a point. “Be seated. This is going to be a short statement, no questions,” he said. He paused when that evoked a murmur of protest. “You can submit questions to Liobat and my staff for clarification afterward, folks. I came here to make a point,” he said.

He could sense Liobat's wince and soft inhale of protest at his blunt approach. He ignored both warning signs.

“Yesterday a courier arrived in Protodon bearing news of a battle in B-97A. Our forces were almost caught off guard by a heavily armed Horathian fleet. A
Prowler
managed to get a warning to our people of the danger only moments before the Horathians arrived behind her. The crew of that
Prowler
died to get that warning to Second Fleet,” he said heavily.

“Their sacrifice was not in vain.” He paused to let that sink in a moment before continuing.

“We're still downloading the details through the ansible and sorting them out. I can tell you that Rear Admiral White did indeed fight a running battle when he decided to retreat. Yes, the enemy's force has a pair of dreadnaughts in its arsenal. No, Second Fleet was not destroyed,” he said pointedly.

“Admiral White managed to turn his fleet and retreat to the B-95A3 jump point. In doing so a running battle was engaged. Fighters, bombers, and warships were lost on both sides of the conflict, but up until the end of the battle when Second Fleet had to slow down, our losses were relatively light. Only when they were forced to slow and charge their hyperdrives did they take mounting damage that destroyed several of our capital ships,” he said.

“We are not at this time going to release the names of the ships that were damaged or destroyed. We will release them when the time is right. What I can tell you is that, although they were beaten, they aren't broken nor defeated. We got sucker punched.”

“That leaves us to the second part, where the news was broken to the public in a … less than official manner by an overenthusiastic officer. She made a mistake, and people panicked on Protodon. That is unfortunate. There wasn't a cause to do so at that time. Nor do I foresee one in the future.”

“Now I see the same panic rising here. People who should know better are getting overexcited and losing their composure and abandoning logic to well, let's not call it hysterics, but I will label it as over reacting. That is unfortunate.”

He paused for a moment to survey the audience both in the room and behind the cameras.

“I know some of you are nervous, afraid even. Yes, we've taken a hit. A blow, not to our body, but to our pride. Hundreds of our sons and daughters are dead. Hundreds more are injured. But their comrades are going to continue fighting there—fighting for your freedom. We need to send them the ships and personnel needed to help continue that fight and stop it from getting
here
,” he said, staring into the camera.

“As many of you know, I'm into martial arts,” he said with a faint smile. “One of the last things you learn is how to punch. Before that, you have to learn how to deflect or block a punch. And you have to learn to take it—to take the punishment. This is a defining moment in anyone to have been hurt. Do we get back up and fight? Or do we react in fear and retreat?”

He shook his head. Retreating means running. And once you start that path, it is difficult to stop and reverse it. So, we're not running. Admiral White knows how to take a punch. Second Fleet has been punched and punched hard. They are in the process of getting back on their feet. They may need to fall back on Protodon,” he started to lean forward. “But I promise you this; it won't go further than that. They will defend Protodon. It is one of our core worlds. The navy has spent the past several years turning the B-95a3 jump zone into a minefield with fortresses, fighters, and weapons that can break this pirate fleet.”

“I'm pretty certain like you, Admiral White doesn't just want this enemy fleet broken, he wants it
obliterated
. And I'm going to send him everything I can to make
sure
that happens.” He grimly surveyed his audience of reporters before he nodded. “That is all,” he said firmly.

:::{)(}:::

April O'Neill winced from behind her anchor desk as she watched John's speech. He seemed pissed and definitely ready to take on all comers. That wasn't good, but he had to show a brave face.

She wasn't happy that he hadn't clued her in something big was going on. She'd already gotten confirmation of most of the story from Knox News affiliate in Protodon. John hadn't given her a heads-up and that irked her. “So, April, what do you think?”

“I think the Horathians are in trouble,” she said to her co-host as she smiled. It was an off-the-cuff reaction. That earned a startled chuckle from her partner. “Honestly, folks, we know a little more than we did before. We also know that the navy is going to come back swinging as the admiral promised.”

“So, you think the speculation was unfounded? They were right that there was a battle,” George replied.

She smiled. “Of course they were right; we'd already gotten confirmation from our Knox News affiliate in Protodon. And we received confirmation from the president's press secretary that it had occurred, just no release on the details.”

“Do you think your … relationship, shall we say, is um, coloring your reaction? Tempering it?”

“I think nothing of the sort. Look, I know, John, she said as she turned to address the camera. “We all do to some degree by now. He is blunt; he can't lie. He's horrible at it. When he says something, you know he's going to do his damndest to pull it off. You can take that as a given, folks. I can tell you he's pissed, and I for one do not want to be on the receiving end of that anger when it finally reaches its intended destination.”

“Should Admiral White resign? Be relieved?”

“At this point we don't know the facts other than the ones we've been presented. I understand the administration is still downloading them through the ansible even as we speak. When they are ready, they'll release a more detailed statement. However,” she flicked her hand in an aborted motion to touch her ear. “I understand we have Senator Mayfair of Pyrax on hold. “Senator?” she asked.

The camera switched to a stock image of the senator from their media files. “Can you hear me?” a querulous voice asked.