FOW Snippet 5

 

Chapter 5

 

Sigma Capital

 

Vice Admiral Dwight Harris was not having a good day. Hell with day, week, no year, he thought pensively as he stared bleakly at a star chart. Eight and a half months had passed since the attack on the Sigma gate complex. There had been hearing after hearing on the matter. There had been demands for him and the other officers involved to be shipped back to face such witchhunts in person. Fortunately, Admiral Irons had their back.

That was contingent on getting results, which wasn't happening. He grimaced. They'd lost the trail of the enemy. The pirates were getting good at avoiding patrols, skipping in and out the outer star systems, and even dropping out of hyperspace and into deep space to reorient. But his people were closing in. Each time they used an unfamiliar jump line the Federation learned it. Well, learned points about it.

They had yet to capture a more recent navigational database. The enemy had overhauled their security proceedures, especially in regards to their navigational data. He couldn't blame them. They were playing it smart with the location of their new jump lines and especially the location of their main base, the so called El Dorado, also known as the battle moon Atlas XIV.

"We have a new contact report coming in through the ansible, sir," his AI reported.

"Oh?" He couldn't even pretend to hope it was good news.

"Red Snapper reporting a chase of the enemy. They picked them up in the 61 star system."

"They caught them?" he asked, sitting up straight.

"Ah, correction, by pick up I mean picked up their trail," the AI corrected.

"Oh," the admiral replied in a deflated tone of voice.

"They chased them for some time before the enemy escaped for good in the SG65-8 star system. Speculation is that they were headed to 72. Shall I see if there are any ships in that vicinity?"

"When was this?"

"Approximately six weeks ago."

"Harumph," he replied thoughtfully. After a moment of thought, he nodded. "Let all ships in the vicinity know maybe one can pick up their trail. What are they looking for?"

"A light cruiser. I am sending out the bulletin now," the AI stated.

"Good. Did they at least get a piece of them?" Dwight asked.

"No, sir. The captain did question how the enemy could stay ahead of them and escape as they did."

The admiral frowned thoughtfully. "Tell her to go back through her intelligence briefings. The enemy has water dwellers—enslaved water dwellers manning their helm."

"Aye, sir. Message sent."

"Anything else?"

"There have been six pirate sightings in the past twenty-four-hour-period. None have been confirmed. There are sixty-one more requests for additional pickets," the AI responded.

The admiral scrubbed at his face in frustration. "Typical, jumping at ghosts or making the shit up out of whole cloth in order to get a bigger picket. I can't squeeze more blood out of this particular turnip. Not unless we get more ships in the pipeline."

The AI wisely said nothing.

"Which isn't going to happen unless someone redeploys Fifth Fleet. But that won't happen because it will leave the western reaches of Rho and essentially that entire sector vulnerable to penetration." He shook his head wearily.

At one point, he'd lusted after this job. Now he had more time to see it for the pitfalls and was wary of it. He snorted harshly at his train of thought.

He didn't regret Shelby and Admiral Logan recruiting him. Not even when he'd had shitty assignments or had been passed over by Renee for command of Firefly. He'd gotten his commands eventually and had worked his way up to his first star. He still regretted her death though; she'd deserved better.

He hadn't had a chance to look up the old group, but he was pretty certain there were a lot fewer of them to go around these days. Many were scattered to the winds, or, as some would say, the four corners of the Reborn Federation.

He had Commodore Firefly sitting nearby, covering his western reaches and the north to south jump line. Other than that … he shrugged such thoughts aside.

"Admiral Sergento is still undergoing testimony with the committee," the AI reported.

He scowled over that one. Isabella had made a few mistakes but she'd done everything more or less by the book. Congress was just trying to make the navy look bad.

"Anything else?"

"You have an intelligence briefing tomorrow."

"Good. Do they have anything?"

"Checking … nothing reported."

"So, another touchy feel good, we got nothing meeting?"

"I wouldn't characterize it as that."

"Check with Michael. If it's a standard report that they have nothing, tell him I'll pass, and we can do it through email. I want him to report when they actually have something, not to touch base and say nothing today."

"Aye aye, sir. Email away."

"Good."

"Admiral Briggs is currently out of Delphi station at the time being. Admiral Montgomery is in house but currently busy. He sends his thanks."

"Yeah, right." Monty was the other member of the old guard in the sector, a member of the Pyrax group that had been recruited by Admiral Irons. It was nice to occasionally shoot the breeze with him, but not at the moment. Not when they were just retreading old ground.

Other officers might want the meeting to exert their dominance or to vent their spleen over the lack of progress. He knew that screaming, albeit cathartic from time to time wasn't going to change the laws of physics and make things happen sooner than they would. Sure, it could motivate some people, but he didn't see it that way.

He saw it as a loss of control and that sort of thing rubbed him the wrong way. He'd seen and heard stories about certain people doing that sort of thing from Bek. The book said it was theater; he doubted that. Anyway, it wasn't his style.

Like a lot of graduates of Pyrax he'd tried to model his career as close to his mentor, Admiral Irons, as possible. He knew they'd never match up, there was too many differences and besides, he was tactical track not engineering. But he liked how the admiral earned respect and got things done. He could command respect because he had put in the effort and earned it.

Admiral Irons was also known for standing up for his people, another thing that a certain frustrated flag officer admired. He rarely shit on someone unless they richly deserved it.

So, if Admiral Irons could keep from bawling his ass out or throwing him to the wolves, he'd do the same to his own people for as long as he could.

"Something needs to break and damn soon," he growled.

"You do realize that wishing for something to happen is a fool’s errand? And tempting Murphy?"

"Ah, that is not what I meant. And thanks for the reminder, I now have that joyous thing to wonder about. Jinxing our janx is not how I want to finish my day, thank you."

"Yes, sir."

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