Full Circle Snippet 2

Sitrep:
Okay, I managed to iron out some of my issues with the S4 and got it printing again.
I am 1/2 of 1 story away from finishing Folklore. I'll hopefully get it finished in a day or 2.

On to the snippet!

Still in chapter 1:

Rear Admiral Bolt just thought he had problems. What he had was a mess.

Oh, they'd finally sorted out the initial pipeline of material flowing to the cruisers. He owed the design and help of the A.I., not to mention the funding from the Federation for that. But this new problem was a headache and a half bordering on a migraine.

They had just started production of the carriers. That was where the problems had come in, logistics was still getting a handle on supplying parts from the subcontractors for the new craft designs. They could barely keep up with demand at the assembly plants and someone was complaining that he didn't have parts to stockpile in the ships themselves.

He'd thought that some of the parts were universal. To some degree they were but not always apparently. There were also few replicators on the ships themselves, something Admiral Irons hadn't gotten around to sorting out in his brief visit.

That meant each of the ships had to be finished and fully fitted out at another time. Most likely that meant in the outer Federation—Pyrax no doubt.

But, there was a problem. Buschools was getting a handle on training finally. Admiral Aloysius had gotten with Admiral Ross over in operations to start air wing operations. They wanted to do it off of some of the fortresses and then move over to the carriers in a seamless transfer.

Good on paper but not when you needed to have the parts there on the damn fortress. It was bad enough they couldn't keep up with demand with the carriers, now the idiots wanted to add parts shipped to the fortresses as well? He shook his small head.

Lack of industrial replicators were a problem. When he had been in the star system, Admiral Irons had passed on as many keys to make more as possible. They had done so and were getting updates through the ansible but still lacked the components BUSHIPS needed in quantity. They were just barely keeping up with demand, and he didn't like that. He liked having a buffer. He knew some liked on-call demand for parts but he knew that it took lead time to make the damn widgets and get them to where they were supposed to be. Heaven help them if there was a delay in the process. No, that wasn't supposed to happen.

He shook his head angrily.

The one small bit of good news was that shipping between Bek A and B was picking up again, and shipping to B-102c and by extension to Nuevo and through the rapids was picking up steam. They'd even sent the first personal transports out. The plan was for the transports to move personnel through the rapids and then bring back a load of components that they lacked—things like hyperdrive components, fusion reactors, that sort of thing.

He'd take it. He'd take anything they could get. Now, if they could find a way to extend it to fighters, he'd be in much better shape than he was in at the moment.

Instead, he had to find a way to make omelets without any eggs.

~~(O)~~

Rear Admiral Ben Ross, head of Naval Operations in Bek A, felt like they were finally getting somewhere. Things were settling down. He was fairly confident they'd fully settle into the new routine once all of the trials had concluded.

So far, the worst of them was behind them. Omar Childress’s case had been rather cut and dried. His last-ditch assassination attempt of Admiral Irons had been particularly stupid. His defense had tried to spin it but had failed. He had been found guilty on all counts and had been sentenced to death. His court case had started the appeals process. His lawyers had argued that he'd been pushed over the edge and had a psychotic break. They'd tried everything to point fingers at Irons to no avail. Now they were trying to work the system and pointing to the absences in the Court of Appeals to cause delays or to get their client's case reduced to life in prison.

He shook his head at that. He knew who the case ultimately went to at the moment. There was no way Admiral Irons would spare the man.

The dragon chimera that had preceded him was already gone. He hadn't even tried to appeal his case. “Good riddance to bad rubbish,” he muttered.

Yes, things were returning to normal, but there were still plenty of issues to deal with. One of them was that in returning to normal some political animals were starting to rear their ugly heads again. But his current problem was working with a certain Neoorangutan to get training sorted out.

Specifically, training for the new craft. His idea to break them in and train them on a fortress while waiting for the carriers to get out of Buship's clutches had been nothing short of brilliant, or so he'd thought. He hadn't known someone like Bolt would pitch such a snit. The little Neodog had a point, but he was not amused at having his soap bubble popped so readily.

So much for plan A.

He shook his head and decided to leave the problem alone for a moment. He checked the latest strategic data—so far so good. The front was stalled at the moment. That would only last until the latest round of relief ships got to either side he knew.

It was always better to fight as far from home as possible even though it complicates logistics. Better to fight in someone else's backyard rather than your own. Fighting away from home protected your industry. But that meant fighting forward. He scratched his head. And that meant they needed pilots and crew to do it.

Which brought him back to the training issue. The pilots needed the stick time. Actual stick time, not just sim time in the newly rebuilt pilot training facilities. He knew there were still teething issues with implants and integrating pilots with Artoo units. Most of the old veteran pilots did not like to give up the stick. They were also having a lot of problems adjusting to the new ships and of course the implants.

That was Aloysius's problem of course, him and Paulette over in BUPERS. His problem was finding ways to have the people and ships together when they needed to be together and out training and running down bugs before they were shipped off to go through the rapids.

“Hawk, do we know what the problem is with the logistics? I know Bolt sent a long email, but he's always so damn long winded when he's in a snit.”

Ensign Hawk, his personal A.I., checked the email. “His primary problem is the lack of parts available in the pipeline, not just the lack of craft. There are now sufficient training craft but not enough parts to ship to the carriers as well as the fortress you have in mind, sir,” Hawk stated.

“I thought the parts were universal?”

“Some are. Some aren't. In order for a unit to be declared fit for operation IG has to sign off on things. That means they need the minimum inventory of parts. We're not seeing that. The subs can barely keep up with demand at the moment.”

“It sounds like we need to find more subs.”

“That isn't in my purview, sir. I believe that might be happening at some time. Other subs who survived the recession are trying to find funds to retool.”

“Okay, so, it's a problem. Solutions?”

“You could cut down your original idea. Instead of trying to mount an entire wing start with just a squadron. Baring that, a pair of craft. Build up from there,” the A.I. stated.

Ben nodded. “Good idea. It's far from ideal, but it's a step in the right direction. Okay, let's go with that. Now …”