Chris Hechtl's Blog, page 13

Happy Holidays!

 Happy Holidays everyone!

Regeneration

 Sitrep:

Fortunes of War still has problems so I went with the launch of Bootstrap Colony 3 Regeneration.

  A bit of bitter irony, Regeneration has a lot of medical science in it. Something my late friend Julie could have used. We received word this morning that she passed away this morning after her fourth (or fifth or sixth) bout with cancer. She was a fun woman, an avid science fiction reader and fan. I'll miss her laugh and talking with her about this Weber or McCaffrey book or that author or movie or whatever. And I will miss her raiding my library to get caught up. :)

Rest in Peace Julie.

 

 

Less than a year has passed since the fateful events of the autumn conference. Some people have recovered from their injuries, some may never recover. Colonel Dunn and one of his conspirators were exiled but others escaped justice and fled. Now it is up to a determined group of people to see that they get justice.

Cassie O'Connell has been hell bent on justice for her losses since she woke. Her body was maimed in the terrible crime. Once she has a taste of vengeance and justice can she put it behind her and rise to a new challenge? Can she push science to the limit and beyond in order to heal more than herself?

Mitch Chambers and the rest of the community do what they can to support her but they are being pulled in many other directions as well. As the human communities continue to pull together new challenges and old await!

 

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0BPB7LZPH

B&N:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/rege...

BSC 3 Snippet 2

 I have but a moment...

Still in chapter 1:

Tropical Village

 

Tariq Powell moved with the others as they harvested the wheat. She paused to wipe sweat from her brow. This was their third harvest, the last before summer ended. They needed the wheat if they were to survive the winter.

The problem was that they had to harvest by hand. Her right hand flexed around the sickle. She looked to the field and sighed; they still had a half acre to go before they needed to quit for the night. Another two days of work if the weather held and they’d be done.

She looked back to the bundles behind her. She had stood them up in cones for the next person in line to come and pick them up. They only had so many hands so they were ranging well ahead of the pickup team.

She grimaced bitterly. Had the bastard white man helped them as he’d done earlier, things would have been different. She shook her head. So, they’d shorted him! So what! He’d had plenty; yet, he’d insisted on indebting them! Like they were slaves!

She didn’t blame the late Trinika for what she’d done. What was done was done. The bastards hadn’t forgiven them though, which had hurt. It had hurt worse when that purple fruit had come into their hands.

She shook her head as she wiped at her face with a handkerchief. It was old and worn, but she had no replacements. And that she could lay at the bastard white man too. He had blacklisted them for not paying him back and other communities had done the same for fear of his reprisals.

Well, she’d tried to pay him back for his indifference to their plight when the plant had killed her son and others. It had failed though. Her lower lip quivered. She didn’t regret her part in it. So, the rest of the world hated them and despised them? Ignored them? So be it. She was from the Caribbean; she was used to being ignored and mistreated.

She sniffed. Sure, they had played nice to the tourists that came with their money. Purely because they came with their money. But that was all for show. She shook her head and turned as the wind picked up. The heavy stalks of the wheat moved. She needed to get busy before she lost them.

Her left hand reached up to touch the sun and then put her fingers under it as if to measure its distance to the ground.

The good news was that since they had far fewer mouths to feed they’d planted less. But it still needed to be brought in, threshed, and then ground. All by hand. She grimaced at the thought of the promised equipment el Jefe, the colonel had promised. Now that was just ashes, another broken white man promise.

She heard a rustle and turned in the direction of the rows of crops that led to the distant tree line. She knew that they had been told not to plant so close to the trees because their shade would make the plants grow less. Well, they’d been right but her people had needed the room.

Now though … her hand tightened on her sickle, wondering what it was. She opened her mouth to yell something, usually a loud noise was enough to drive something off and get the attention of the guards. But then something sweet covered her mouth and nose as hard things pinned her arms. She inhaled to shriek but that was a mistake. The smell made her body instantly relax against her will.

She slumped, and her hand let the sickle slip from her nerveless fingers as she crumpled.

Hard hands made certain she was out with an injection before bundling her up and taking her off into the rows of wheat and then into the tree line beyond.

Behind them footprints of raptors were left behind to confuse those that would search for her long enough for them to get away.

----=^=^=@

New Falkland Island

 

“Package 1 acquired,” a voice said over the encrypted radio channel. Encryption wasn’t really required; they had a direct satellite link.

“Roger that,” Akira replied. He’d taken over the radio as Cassie had other concerns at the moment. He switched frequencies. “Package 1 acquired. You are a go Blue Team.”

Two clicks acknowledged him. He nodded, made a notation and then sent the go order to the Hercules.

----=^=^=@

Bootstrap Colony 3 Regenesis Snippet

 Sitrep: So, a number of factors have delayed the launch of Fortunes of War. Honestly, it's out of my hands. I am trying to get it sorted now. That is just 1 frustrating thing among many others going on. Sigh.

But, in the meantime, Goodlifeguide did send BSC3 Regenesis back early. I checked, the manuscript is hopefully bug free. I can switch gears and launch that. I had planned for it to be published this month anyway, so, let's roll.

One snippet (maybe two) and then we'll look into the launch tomorrow afternoon or so.

 

Base

 

Jolie Havana monitored the video feeds from the drones. Pete was supposed to spell her for his shift soon, but she was pretty intent on the feed. She glanced at the screen on the side.

Each time a person looked up, she made a screen grab. She then zoomed in, drew a box around the face and then dumped it into their database.

They had a growing database of people in the Tropical Village and Dunn’s Fortress for comparison purposes. But the two that they wanted were hard to track. The AI within the computer compared the images to others to compile the database. It also applied facial recognition profiles and searched for two specific women, one in each village. The computer beeped, and she turned expecting a false hit.

She looked and a smile blossomed at the image of the Jamaican woman. The match came from the series of images from her visits to the Base. A 3D model had been constructed, and the computer had verified the dimensions within 4 percent of error.

“Gotcha,” she murmured.  “Well hello, Tariq,” she said maliciously as she turned and tapped at the computer. Within a moment, the image and location had been uploaded to the satellite and then to the Falklands. From there others would take things to their natural conclusion.

Hopefully she thought as she picked up a cup of tea and sipped it gently as she cradled the mug.

----=^=^=@

New Falkland Island

 

“So, she is alive,” Cassie O'Connell said coldly as she stared at the file Jolie had just transmitted. “I thought so. So much for the Tropics punishing her,” she said with an arctic chill in her voice.

“We already knew that when they refused to confirm her death,” a familiar voice said over her shoulder. She looked over to Klinger and then away.

Half of the military people were in on this dual operation or Op as they called it. It had taken all summer to organize it. That had given Cassie time to recover from her surgery.

She didn’t blame her mother for what had to have been done in order to save her life. No, she blamed others like the woman that was currently on her tablet screen—her and another.

They, Colonel Dunn, and Bob Newart had conspired to kill Mitch Chambers, the leader of the Base, as well as infest other people to cover their tracks. It was a heinous crime. She, her late fiancé Vance, and two teenage friends, Tish and Jayden, had inadvertently wandered into the line of fire. Vance, Tish, and Jayden had paid the price.

Mitch had gotten off lightly. He had only taken a sip of the alien concoction while the teens had taken turns guzzling it. Cassie’s fetus and many of her internal organs had been riddled by the parasites and eaten alive. Her mother had performed a brutal savage cut and burn surgery to save her life.

She had lost a lot and was horribly maimed. At the moment, the only reason alive was what kept her going, a desire for justice and revenge. She couldn’t get her love or her child or her body back. But she could and would make sure those who had committed the crimes would pay for it.

“For this to work, we’ve got to hit them within twelve hours of each other,” Gunny Usher stated.

She turned and nodded to him. Gunny Usher was one of the leaders of Crash Town in the southeast. He and Gunny Hodges of the Mountain Village were some of the Marines in the team.

“I’m taking the bitch. We’ll hit her during the harvest. With luck we’ll pull out before they notice she’s gone.”

“Right,” Klinger said with a nod. “We’ve got a truck ready.”

“Yeah. Is the chief ready for his part?”

“Yes. Gunny Hodges is ready too,” Akira Tanaka stated with a nod.

The chief and gunny had placed themselves well outside Dunn’s fortress with two support team members. They were monitoring the drone feed and the coming and goings from the fortress to map it thoroughly. They had already scouted a way in, though it was going to be tough weighed down with their gear.

Tougher still was the part where they had to get in undetected without killing anyone. Getting out was tricky. The primary plan seemed insane but was easier than trying to extract overland.

“The plan?” Cassie asked.

Akira looked to Gunny Usher, but the gunny nodded and let Cassie take the lead.

“A go. Both of them.”

A part of their delay had been rigging the Hercules to play its part and to get the airfields set up. At the moment, only three airfields on the planet could support the L-100 Hercules, one of which was right there. Warrant Brown and Jacklynn were slated to pilot the bird for the mission.

Once the modifications to the bird had been finished, they’d done a series of rehearsals to make sure the tech functioned as planned. Only an idiot believed it worked first thing like in the movies, so they’d planned for a bit of slack and even a backup extraction.

Hopefully, it wouldn’t be necessary. Where they were going, it was considered deep Injun territory. The enemy would no doubt roust like a hornet’s nest and come after them. The last thing anyone needed was to be driving in the bush with predators at night while people with guns were chasing them.

“No surprise that Doctor Pierre didn’t mention she was alive, just changed the subject,” Akira said with a sniff. Cassie nodded as her hating eyes bore into the woman’s image. They’d meet in person … hopefully soon.

“Let’s do this,” she said simply.

----=^=^=@

FOW Snippet 6

 Last one.

Sitrep: Still no word from Goodlifeguide yet.

Despite my plan of my usual November and December off for holiday prep, I dived into Tauren Invasion. It is a rehash of the ground fighting in several locations plus prep and such from the Tauren-Federation war spanning the 5 books. There is a lot of material mixed into it too.

Anyway, I just did the second act yesterday, I was in my groove the past 2 days doing the entire act of 19 chapters in 2 days. (don't get cute, yes half of that was copy/paste) I'm still happy.

Oh, for you Bootstrap Colony fans out there, BSC3 has been sent to Rea the other day. Expect it out in December.

So, that being said, on to the snippet!

 

Atlas XIV, Sigma Sector

 

Catherine Ramichov, vice admiral of the Horathian fleet and self-acclaimed pirate empress,  smiled as she read the report of the incoming ships. Her audacious raid on the enemy's stargate had helped her in many interesting ways. It had provided the antimatter fuel she desperately needed to revive and move the battle moon for one.

It had crippled the enemy's gate in the sector too. It had hit their morale and hopefully kicked off another political crisis for their administration to have to handle. And it had caused a massive uptick in morale in her own people.

More importantly, people saw it as a bold strike against a seemingly invincible foe. One she had orchestrated. The only thing that would have been better was if she'd led the raid herself.

Well, you can't have everything she thought with a mental shrug.

Her people were done feeling sorry for themselves. She wanted to renew their sense of purpose, to return them to basics. The idea of an empire was out. There was no way they could take the Federation head on and win. She knew that deep down. The best they could do was to raid and hide.

Which was where this massive battle moon came in. It was her base of operations, the ultimate Tortuga, the ultimate pirate nest. But for it to remain her capital, it had to be kept hidden.

Unfortunately for her, the enemy was getting a little too close to it for comfort. They were good at ferreting out any ion trail her people left. Eventually, she knew that they'd find the right trail to her base. She hoped to be long gone by then.

In order to do that though, it was up to someone else. She decided it was deep enough into the evening to seek her out.

>>><><<< 

Newly minted Rear Admiral Elvira Varbossa stared at the report on her desk blankly. No matter how she looked it didn't change the things running around in her mind like flying pests.

"What's the problem?" a familiar contralto voice asked. She looked up to Catherine.

"It's just …" She paused to organize her thoughts. She was in her second trimester and got easily distracted. She was also emotional from the hormonal swings.

Catherine sashayed over to her and sat on the edge of her desk. A few of the papers moved or fell off the desk. Neither lady seemed to care. Elvira seemed to glow with her pregnancy. She was also off most of the meds. Doctor Nutell had added some hypnotic suggestions to help control her, but for the time being, they were not necessary.

They had ships under construction in the yard as well as the other projects. Admiral Hyman Preece had pulled Elivra off the yard projects to focus on the battle moon's repairs.

"Just what?" Catherine prompted gently. She could see the wheels turning in her lover's mind. She hoped that she wouldn't have to have Elvira adjusted again. She was coming along better now. She'd adapted and her depression had lifted with her workload increase and the pregnancy.

She always seemed happiest when she had a challenge in front of her, one that she could solve. It was when she had to face the bigger picture that she struggled. That was why Catherine was determined to keep Elvira focused on engineering as much as possible.

It did suck that she couldn't use her lover as a sounding board. Oh, she did in general but only vague comments about this subject or that, nothing detailed.

"Well, to be honest I didn't think we'd find the fuel. Getting it from the Federation …," Elvira shook her head in bemusement.

"I know, bold," Catherine said with a cheshire grin.

"Bold? Bold?!?" Elvira threw her head back and laughed. Her lover blinked at the reaction. "Bold?" she echoed again as she dashed a tear with the back of her hand a few seconds later. Catherine began to relax as she saw the humor in the reaction. She smiled indulgently and cocked her head.

"Got it out of your system?" Catherine asked as she offered a tissue.

Elvira took it and blew her nose. She snorted as she dabbed at the tip and then crumpled the paper up. "My father would have said beyond brass ones. Steel, hell, adamantium ones," she replied as she shook her head. "To go in there and steal …," she shook her head again.

Catherine smirked. "Well, we are pirates, stealing goes with the territory, right?"

Elvira snorted. "True." She waited a beat. "So, back to basics?"

Catherine nodded slightly. "Pretty much." It was why they were building cruisers. Ships with enough legs to get around but also to stand up to the Feds if necessary. But she'd put her foot down and had refused to build anything bigger than a battlecruiser.

"So," Elvira said as she crumpled the tissue up some more and tossed it in the trash. She ran her fingertips through her raven hair. It was silky and shined in the office light.

"So?" Catherine said as she crossed her arms. "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Honestly? I don't know," Elvira admitted. "I liked going legit. But …," she shrugged, clearly uncomfortable about the topic change.

"Really?" Catherine said in a slightly disappointed tone of voice.

"It's not the pirate thing or the loss of life. I think it was smart; you set their gate project back by years according to the report while also stealing the antimatter. Two birds with one stone."

Catherine nodded but grimaced slightly. The idea had been to take the damn gate out. That hadn't happened but she'd take damaging it and slowing the Feds up. The antimatter made a great consolation prize.

"Egg on their navy's face is a third stone," she murmured.

Elvira blinked and then nodded. "Politics," she said. "I tend to forget that side of the equation," she admitted wryly.

"No surprise there since you are the techno nerd," Catherine replied with a teasing grin. "How about you leave me to the strategy and the politics and I leave you to play with your spanners?"

Elvira snorted.

"Come on, we make a good team that way," Catherine invited. "Remember?" she asked with an inviting lilt in her voice.

Elvira nodded and looked away. She bit her lip slightly.

"Hey, come on," Catherine used a finger to draw her lover's chin back to her so they could look at each other. "What gives?"

"It's … it's just the danger involved."

"We won."

"Did we? Sure, we won the battle. But we also pissed them off. They are going to be even more determined to find us. And they now have a fresh trail to follow."

Catherine's finger dropped. They stared into each other's eyes. She saw the shadows of concern and doubt in her lover's eyes. After a moment, she nodded. "That's true," she finally admitted as she looked up and away. "I can't help that. Without risk there is no reward," she said quietly.

Elvira bit her lip again.

"Which leads us back to you. The pressure is on you to perform. We need that hyperdrive back up and running."

Elvira rolled her eyes and sat back. "I knew it was coming back to me. That's the pressure side; it's coming back to me. I'm an engineer but this is …," she indicated the ship.

"If anyone can get this thing moving again, it's you," Catherine said.

"You have no idea how much is involved. Fuel was just one variable in a very complex equation. We've got to rebuild systems, fix stuff that we tore out as salvage, tune the force emitters on the outer shell …," she shook her head.

Catherine winced.

"Sensors, alignment of sensors … computer systems … who is going to run this tub?"

"Let me worry about that," Catherine said.

Elvira sighed. "Okay, I'll handle the hardware. Sure, fine."

"Hey, team remember?"

Elvira nodded after a moment.

"So … what do you need?"

"Well, we've been working on what we can. The systems to the northern quadrant were taken out by Commander Cho. He did a good job, he took them out carefully and documented everything."

Catherine nodded. Cho had been methodical but slow. Her father had gotten impatient and had ordered him replaced. Cho's replacement Captain Forest had taken a slash and burn approach to systems that the giant battle moon was no longer going to use.

The components had either been used to repair other parts of the station or as fodder for her manufacturing. She couldn't blame the captain, it wasn't like there were a lot of high quality material sources around the battle moon. In fact there were none, the moon had dropped out of hyperspace in deep space and had taken centuries to drift to her present position.

"Once we get the hyperdrive going we can get out of this crack. Hit the reset and really screwup their search pattern for us," Catherine said.

Elvira snorted. "We can only go so far," she warned.

Catherine frowned as she got up and went behind her lover and began to rub her shoulders to relax her. "What do you mean?" she asked after a moment.

"I ran the calculations. If we can get this tub moving at peak efficiency, we can move her about one to three hundred light years."

"Three hundred light years … so not into another sector?" Catherine left the idea of getting the battle moon into top condition aside for the moment. She knew that was a pipe dream. She was dismayed by the fuel needed though.

Elvira shook her head. "No. Not even close. And I said three hundred is the top end. It is more likely closer to one hundred light years. That's a one-shot jump, which I doubt we can do anyway since we'd be flying more or less blind. I can show you the numbers if you want."

"Email it to me. What about following the jump lines?" Catherine asked thoughtfully as she considered the problem. There was always a way; you just needed to work the problem. If you were stuck, you needed to take a step back, reassess, and then look at ways to solve the problem out of the box.

"Um …," Elvira's head was lowered, and she had begun to give in to her lover's minstrations. "What?"

"A conventional jump? Going through star systems?" Catherine prompted. "Shorter hops?"

"We can maybe get this ship in and out of hyperspace once. That is where the big fuel suck is going to hit us. Two-thirds of the fuel will go for just one entrance into hyperspace. The rest of the antimatter will help sustain systems until we can get the hyperspace collectors online. Ifwe can get them online."

"If we can't?" Catherine prompted when Elvira fell silent.

"Eh? Oh, then it is going to be a very short trip," Elvira supplied.

"Oh."

"The hyperspace collectors won't get us far, just enough of a trickle charge to keep us in hyperspace for a while. Maybe cover 50 to 60 percent of the energy budget needed to sustain us in hyperspace. That is where the rest of the fuel will go, to propel us forward and to keep us in hyper as long as possible."

"Oh."

"If we took the conventional path, wouldn't that expose us to the enemy?"

"Ah, yeah. Crap," Catherine sighed softly. She'd thought of that but then disregarded the issue.

"Yeah. We'd eventually end up dead in space. A sitting duck."

"So … all on a roll of the dice," Catherine murmured. Her hands stilled as she held her lover's shoulders gently. Once they moved, they'd be out of fuel again … if they survived the experience. She'd then have to figure out how to get more.

She doubted that the Federation would be so obliging to allow her to raid them like that again.

"Pretty much. What was that line about risk and reward?" Elvira asked as she opened her eyes and turned to her lover.

"Oh shut up," Catherine chuckled as she gently squeezed Elvira's shoulders.

Elvira sniffed.

>>><><<<

FOW Snippet 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."

>>><><<< 

FOW Snippet 4

 

 

Antigua

 

"Admiral, it's time," Protector reported quietly.

"And by time you mean …?" Admiral Irons asked as he set his tablet down. He was only human so he occasionally needed a reminder, especially when juggling so many balls like he did as president.

"Mayweather Station, sir. The Taurens have found the ansible and are closing in on it."

The admiral nodded as the holographic avatar of Sprite came online on his desk. One by one other avatars appeared as well.

"A full house," Admiral Irons said as he turned to Commander Enki. "Status report?"

"They are a few minutes out from the ansible platform. Robots are inbound to the platform."

"Ah."

"Once we lose the platform, we lose the real-time intelligence gathering in the star system," Sprite stated.

"It can't be helped. We knew this day might come eventually," Admiral Irons stated. "The picket commander is aware?"

"Yes, sir."

"Okay, let's do this then. See what you can do to delay the inevitable," he said with a nod to Commander Enki.

The AI nodded back.

Admiral Irons sat back to watch the fireworks. That was the best he could describe it. They were losing a priceless intelligence and communication asset but they were at least going to inflict some pain and loss on the enemy during the process as well.

"Spread the love," he murmured quietly. Sprite glanced at him and then back to the feed Enki was providing to them.

>>><><<< 

Mayweather Station

 

Admiral Brewster watched the ship in the slip. They finally had a decent slip going. The repair ships were doing a good job of making repairs. They were a bit short on supplies though. He could see the wisdom of the Federation Navy sending out industrial replicators on their ships and in their fleet train.

The replicators that had been in the base had all been deadlined. No tech had managed to figure out how to get them working again despite a one-month-liberty pass bounty on it.

He shrugged the matter aside with a flap of his ears. No matter.

If the ansible transport coming in his direction was on schedule, it should be one jump away shortly. He was waiting for the ax to fall; he knew that once the ansible got to him he'd get ass chewing and micromanaging from the administration and the Admiralty. Not to mention any sort of hearing thrown together by Congress.

In other words, his days were numbered.

Once the ansible got to him, he'd probably get reamed a bit before being relieved of command and shipped back in disgrace. He had been working with his JAG office on a defense. They had estimated the charges and built around each. Of course, he had access to all of the direct evidence; he'd avoided the desire to tamper with anything. It wasn't like it mattered in the end. If the powerful bulls in command wanted his head, he knew it was theirs for the taking.

“Herd Leader, the drone has been launched.”

He grunted, flapping his ears and tail in confusion before he turned to his chief of staff.

“The drone? To capture the enemy ansible?” his chief of staff prompted.

“Ah. Well, fine, keep me posted,” he ordered, and then went back to ruminating as he stared out the window.

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Loki Rest in Peace

 With a heavy heart we had to say goodbye to my cuddle buddy Loki.

He came to me as an early Birthday gift in 2002. He had been abused by the family who had him before us. He was a sweet buddy to me though.

When we first got him he growled and fussed. Baby put him in a headlock and gave him a bath a few times and he finally settled down.

He had his own way of being a brat.

He had a thing for pens and when he wanted attention he didn't take not right now for an answer! Keyboard or no keyboard!

He will be missed by all who knew him, but especially me.

FOW Snippet 3

Chapter 3

 

Antigua

 

Jeff Randall, Vice President of the Federation stared out the window as he examined his life choices. He was an average sized human dressed in slacks and an open collar shirt. His homeworld's beauty embraced him, making him feel... well, not quite at peace but as close as it came to it these days.

So far so good, he reflected. He was second fiddle to Admiral Irons, but that just meant he was one step away from the presidency. He could live with that, after all, he'd had anti-geriatric treatments and would live for centuries.

His wife had also been treated to stablize her aging, but out of their pocket. It had been expensive, and initially they'd both resented that the Federation hadn't paid for it. Intellectually he understood though, it would have opened up a political dynasty issue that they didn't want to fight over. At least the Federation had allowed her to get it, normally the only paths for a civilian to get such treatment was to either A, join the military, or B, get into office, or C, emigrate and become a colonist somewhere. Admiral Irons had worked in an acception for the spouse of someone in the military or government service, but with the caveat that they pay out of their own pocket. He and his wife had managed to afford it, along with paying for the kids to go to college.

They were officially empty nesters, something they were both starting to explore and get used to. Just not having to worry about disrupting the kids plans was great. It definitely made his work-home life balance a little easier to deal with. He did miss the kids, but he checked in when he could. They were horrible about doing that though, which was typical for their generation. They were getting wrapped up in their own adventures and stretching their wings as they explored what this new civilization had to offer.

He envied them a little, he thought as he stared off to the slowly setting sun. He envied them but understood what it had taken to get them this far. It was normal for every generation to improve things for the next. His had made the leap to as close to old Federation standards of living, medicine, and education as possible.

If any of the kids wanted to get anti-geriatric treatments they'd have to find their own path. There were several available to them, including the easiest, military service. He shuddered mentally at the thought of one of his kids going off to war. Bad enough that he didn't see them for a month or more but knowing they would go off to get shot at... it had to be difficult for any parent to handle.

Fortunately, he didn't have to deal with it. The kids had all gotten into college with an eye to civilian careers. He winced at the thought of them changing career tracks though. The costs were getting high. But it was all a part of the process of their finding themselves and their way, he reminded himself firmly.

At least they keep their grades up, he thought as he felt a gentle breeze.

That was another good thing about being second fiddle to John, he could still spend time on the planet of his birth. John was anchored to White Station entirely too much these days.

He was going to be traveling again soon though. They had a six month block to travel Rho. Sandra was finally coming around to looking forward to it as a second, or was it third honeymoon? He snorted wryly at the thought.

The following year he was destined to travel around Pi sector. It was one part to show his face and make connections, and another to show the people that the administration cared about them. Obviously John couldn't do it, so guess who was elected? Not that he minded. Well, he did mind the idea of traveling around dangerous space, but the navy was getting a handle on that. He wouldn't go far either, and they'd have a warship escort the entire time.

Hopefully when the other gates came online they'd have the process down and maybe even find a way to juice Federation Two's speed a bit more.

That would be nice, he thought as his hair ruffled in the evening breeze.

His HUD blinked to get his attention and he turned away from the glory of the sunset to look into the shadows of the balcony nearby to see what his AI was trying to show him. He snorted at the minor headline and dismissed it for the moment.

Politics might be the bane of some, but for him it was the lifeblood of his existance. He'd started out getting into politics in order to improve things for his family and for his community, and eventually the world.

When Admiral Irons had come years ago he'd seen the opportunity to strike. At the time he'd seen Irons as an authority figure standing in the way of his ambitions. He had used that as a way to rally some figures on his planet in order to catapult him to the governorship of the planet.

He hadn't anticipated that Admiral Irons would take the attacks personally. Nor had he anticipated that the Admiral would not be hobbled. Instead of setting aside his plans to build a Navy in Antigua Irons had shocked him and his followers by leaving. He'd gone off to find another place to start the Federation and it had taken the starch out of his plans.

He'd been embittered for a time, but the attack by the pirates had awakened him. He'd spent a lot of sleepless nights in fear of what they'd do next. He'd realized his short-sighted stupidity had nearly cost him everything he'd worked for and more. The rescue by the heavy cruiser Firefly had become the thing of modern legend. He had been humbled and had requested that the admiral return.

Fortunately the spirits had been listening and the admiral had returned from his adventures with a core fleet.

Antigua was at the forefront of change in the sector. He had seen it and felt his chest swell with pride. His view had expanded during his time running for the Vice Presidency, and beyond when he'd settled into the new position.

The firestorms the administration had weathered after Horath had been destroyed had been tough on many. To his surprise, Admiral Irons had grown a thicker skin and had not buckled under the constant pressure to resign. He had remained neutral, not coming to the defense of the administration for fear of alianating certain political parties.

He'd done it out of political expendency, in order to cover all bases in case the admiral did eventually step down. He knew the game, he had to keep all of his options open. He had tried to keep up his personal relationship with John and make it clear it wasn't personal. Their relationship had cooled a little though. They were still friends though.

He snorted to himself as his eyes went back to the headline on his HUD. Himalaya's government settling in. That was rich, the population there was under five hundred people. Most of the people there had gotten off the planet as soon as they could. The remaining mountaineers were trying to forge a government on the planet when there were few people there and not much of an economy. It was amusing to see certain parties trying to prop up as many star systems as possible in order to build a bloc of voters for the sector.

The same for two of the other star systems in that culdesac. New Brunswick was better off, but not by much. The Ssilli on Aquarius had no organized government to speak of. Another group being propped up and pushed to organize. He shook his head in mild annoyance. At least the Ssilli had a strong growing economy. Some of their young were joining the Federation military as pilots and navigators. Some of those people were sending their credits back to their homeworld to help clean it up and modernize it.

Already their population had quadrupled since contact had been initiated. The Ssilli colony on Antigua were considering moving there or to the seas of Agnosta.

At least he'd finally killed the movement to get unpopulated star systems to be accepted as voting members! That had been a foolhardy ploy by the kingmakers in congress. They hadn't realized that it could set a precedent and open the door to the same practice in the other sectors.

Their current ploy was to delay the acceptance of star systems to their ranks. That was slowly erroding though under the steady pressure of other star systems who had endured the same treatment.

The new movement that was growing was to colonize. They were looking at finding ways to colonize some of the uninhabited star systems in order to maintain parity with the other sectors. He snorted to himself. They'd have a lot of hurdles to overcome, including all the rules they'd set up to delay the process. A solid economy running for five years was the biggest. A population above a certain number was another. A self-sufficient one was the biggest.

He shook his head as he turned back to the sunset. A soft sound of breathing and then hands snaking their way around his hips made his lips twitch in a smile. He twisted slightly as he felt his wife's lovely head settle on his side. "Hi," he murmured.

"Hi yourself," she said with a soft husky tone of voice. She smelled nice and had a flowing silk outfit on that fluttered in the evening breeze nicely. It was funny, three decades ago he was the mayor of Doonburg and they dressed in Victorian fashion. She would have been scandalized then at her current wardrobe. He enjoyed it, and from the gleam in her eyes when she found something new to tantalize him, he knew she did too.

He turned and kissed the top of her head gently and then went back to looking at the sunset with her, content in the moment.

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FOW Snippet 2

Chapter 2

 

Antigua

 

Fleet Admiral John Henry Irons felt the ambiguity in his thoughts and paused to try to sort it out.

He was 2 meters tall when standing, and had a classic human build maintained by his implants. He occasionally worked out with martial arts in order to maintain his body, or so he liked to pretend.

In all honesty his nanites would keep him perfectly preserved for as long as necessary. He just liked to work out from time to time.

He was a dark brunette with a goatee. Those could change in seconds if he wished but he kept them for consistency with the public. The goatee had come about during the Bounty incident in B101a1.

He had been an engineering admiral before his cybernetic upgrades and time in stasis. When he'd woke he'd found that he'd been promoted to Fleet Admiral and then had started a series of adventures that had led him to the presidency. Sometimes he had to wonder about the universe and how the Spirits worked things out.

He'd done an okay job so far though, well, with a few missteps and stumbles but that was to be expected. The Federation was growing, that was the important thing. Despite currently fighting two wars.

 He rocked from side to side in his chair as he recapped his situation. His assessment came down to 1 thing, he was concerned about being pulled in too many directions. The navy had committments in Rho, cleaning up the sector and picketing essential systems, in the north in Pi sector, fighting the pirates there and expanding the Federation's sphere of influence, in the north east in Sigma sector, where the pirate leadership was hiding, and the new war in Tau sector to their south west with the Tauren Confederation.

For six long years he'd been trying to make bricks with precious little straw. His lips twitched in an almost smile at the analogy. Apt, he thought as he turned away.

It wasn't his fault, well, not entirely, he corrected himself. He'd given Catherine Ramichov, the new pirate empress the fodder she'd needed to twist his words and muddy the historical record. He shook his head in annoyance.

He had threatened her father Pyotr with a bluff to strike his star system with a Nova bomb if the fighting got too intense. He'd been pushing to get through the pyschotic meglomaniac's mania, to force his hand or to force those around him to perform a coup and take him out of power in order to open negotiations.

Well, it hadn't entirely been a bluff, he thought darkly. He would have pulled a President Truman and used the bomb if the fighting had gotten too intense in the wretched star system and if casualties had soared. But the forces he'd sent in had been more or less holding their own at the time of Catherine's strike.

He was certain that his threat had played into her hands. She'd performed a coup against her own family and taken control... and orchestrated an orderly evacuation. The utter ruthlessness of slaughtering her own family was both shocking and brilliant. Only when it was clear that her planet was inevitably going to fall and his people were too deep in and committed to pull back had she struck.

His face worked again as he grimaced once more. To be honest he had known that the pirates had most likely captured nova bombs at some point. Naval Intelligence had theorized it and had 'unconfirmed reports' but that was it. But the idea that they'd managed to penetrate and bypass all of the security systems in order to allow her to use it... that hadn't come to mind. That was his mistake. He'd been too confident that they were inert.

The placement had also been an issue. He'd expected a ship to carry the bomb to the star. Instead she'd parked it hidden inside a space station. He doubted even Amadeus had anticipated such a threat. How could he have? They'd all thought Catherine had been bluffing to stall for time or for political capital.

When the nova bomb had gone off it had thrown the star system into chaos. Most of the pirate fleet had been away from any jump point and had died or scattered to deep space. Half of Second fleet had died along with their commanding officer, his friend Admiral Amadeus White. Other fine officers and enlisted had died as well. Marines and Army units had been trapped on the planet. Only a smattering of the units had managed to escape.

Not so for Catherine. She'd staged ships in deep space near the Finagle jump point. Amadeus had apparently figured that out and had put Admiral Dwight Harris on the problem while Fifth Fleet moved into Finagle to cut off retreat there. They hadn't anticipated the number of ships however, or their ability to escape.

His eyes went bleak as he stared at the ceiling for a long moment. That was another intelligence failure, but one he didn't put much blame on any one particular person or group. They'd known that the pirates had been collecting water dwellers to enhance their ship handling and navigation, they hadn't anticipated the scale that the pirates had gone into cloning those poor enslaved people.

Catherine's retreat with the water dwellers had allowed her core fleet to bypass the Fifth Fleet set in Finagle to trap her. She'd fled into the outer reaches of Sigma, and the finger pointing back home had begun.

Ships had scattered through deep space, all fleeing the dying star. The navy had been forced to split into 2 groups, 1 on search and rescue, the other giving chase to Catherine's fleeing fleet.

His political enemies had tried to shame him into resigning over the fiasco. He'd flat out refused. He'd weathered the storm for years. When it was clear he wasn't going anywhere they had done the next best thing to hamstring him though, cutting funding and support to the bone for the military. The forces in Sigma had been left to try to find the pirates without additional support or relief. That had allowed Catherine's trail to go cold. That had added to the arsenal of political ammunition his opponents had tried to use against his administration. The fact that they had a hand in it didn't seem to apply.

Catherine's bold attack on the Sigma gate star system had awakened them to her threat. It had also made for another round of political attacks on him, but the media had finally come around and pointed out that Congress had limited the deployments in Sigma. The rounds of committee hearings that his opponents had orchestrated had embarrassed them when that came to light.

The demands by partisans supporting the military to give them the tools and ships needed had finally begun to make some headway. But the real kicker had been Tau.

The war in Tau had finally gotten congress to let them off the leash. The idea of another Xenophobic species going on a rampage to conquer the sector and threaten the Federation had been a wake up call. His political opponents were in full retreat. Congress had authorized the funds and the mobilization to go to war.

Bek, Pyrax, Antigua and other shipyards were back into full production. Ships were steadily moving out of Bek again to Pyrax. They were staging there to build new fleets. From there they would go to the gate system.

For the moment they couldn't get to Tau or Sigma so he had authorized task forces into Pi to run the pirates out of that sector. It was good training and good PR, though it didn't look good that they were headed in the wrong direction. That would change in time though.

He also wanted to build a fleet to replace Second Fleet. That would allow Dwight Harris to bring his people home for a much deserved rest and refit. Not that some would want to go, many wanted to finish the mission. He understood their bitter desire for vengence. But it was unhealthy to hold onto it for so long without any sort of results. The psych people were pushing for more downtime for Second Fleet. They were getting more strident about it... as were some of the families of the sailors and marines. He couldn't blame them.

He made a soft puttering sound. That was a problem for another time. He'd agreed with Dwight that he could stay in Sigma until the gate was completed and relief forces could arrive in a timely manner to relieve him. Now that project was delayed by years due to the recent attack.

The attack did reawaken Dwight's desire for revenge again. He was limited on what he could do though, he had the defensive committments and relief forces were too far away to get to him. Fifth fleet was picketing the western side of Rho but... he grimaced.

They couldn't be strong everywhere. That was obvious. And this was the other jaw of the trap Catherine's raid had set off. Political forces were pushing for stronger pickets in Sigma and in the western reaches of Rho... and of course that made others want more just to keep up.

Keeping up with the Jone's, he thought in disgust. They didn't need it, but they sure wanted it because others were getting attention. He sighed heavily.

That was another factor in the political arena. Established star systems in Rho, and the power bases some had built had felt threatened by the growing block of voters in other sectors. It was watering down their power base and control of the Federal government. They had found ways to limit that by delaying votes to allow star systems to join the Federation.

They had also put restrictions on the star systems as well. The latest was that the system's economy had to be solvent for a period of 5 years before they could be considered for membership. That was being challenged in the courts.

He understood the cynicism at the heart of the arguement. Rho was the core sector, it was where the Reborn Federation had started. Now they were going to eventually be overshadowed by larger sectors. The neighboring 3 sectors had far smaller populations compared to Rho but there were many more occupied star systems. That would wrestle control away from established power blocks in the senate at the very least.

Representation was still in the hands of Rho, at least for now. Most of that was due to Bek's dense population. There was some undercurrent of resentment there, though that was changing as the sector's power brokers continued to try to unite their power block.

They had yet to get everyone on board. Some star systems stubbornly wanted to stay neutral and outside of the Federation. Some probably thought they could benefit from trade and commerce through their star system without having to pay taxes. He snorted.

Now that the Federation was settling down he knew that was a short sighted point of view. It was easy to bypass a reciliant star system if necessary, effectively blockading them.

Some of those neutral star systems had been in the hands of the pirates though, so they had caretaker governments for the time being. They resented the Federation's 'interference' almost more than the pirates. He shook his head.

That was just more fun for the boys and girls over at the state department, he thought as he picked up a tablet and got back to reading the position paper he was supposed to absorb.

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