Chris Hechtl's Blog, page 21

The Pi Effect Snippet 5

 Sitrep:

  The video project hit a snag, I goofed on placement of a prop and had to go back and reshoot 20 frames. That was annoying, but at least I caught it early.

  I am working on other elements and kicking myself because I didn't take advantage of the sales Daz3D had going. There are 3 figures I want for this video and they had been half off... and now are not. My bad. I guess it can wait a bit longer. I'm no where near that part anyway. :P

 

On to the snippet! Still in chapter 4:

 

~~(O)~~

Commodore Vestri Sindri nodded as he read the reports. So far so good. The first of the heavy cruisers was nearing completion. They'd had a few delays but nothing serious. Once they had her out of the finishing slip, the yard dogs would move into full swing to produce her sisters.

They had opted to build heavy cruisers over light cruisers because of the pirates. Light cruisers were good for scouting but that was being handled by the prowlers and other ships. Heavy cruisers were the true workhorses of the fleet.

There were four production runs of heavy cruisers planned and then he could switch to other ship designs. He was sure that many thought he was going to produce light cruisers next or even shoot for battle cruisers, but that wasn't his plan. He wanted escort and light carriers.

He was pretty sure Admiral Caine would sign off on the switch once he saw it. The cruiser yard wouldn't have much of a problem retooling to produce the line after all and he would welcome the additional firepower. Building the carriers would be tricky though.

At the moment, they didn't have a fighter factory. There was the one small production line of small craft, but it was currently churning out tugs and shuttles and would be doing so for the foreseable future. The fighters for the cruisers were going to be imported from Rho.

That had to change though in time. They needed local pilots, and they needed a source of fighters. The problem was where to get them?

Another issue was local sector politics. Word was getting around about New Cornwall's good fortune and some other star systems, most notably Tir Na Nog were up in arms over it. Even though they had scored a full naval hospital and the Marine base and training centers.

He shook his head.

Some people were not happy even when you gave them a lot of shit. They just put their hand out for more without so much as a thank you. He grimaced.

He had, he checked the schedule, another three weeks on site before he was supposed to ship back to Port Royal. Along the way, he was supposed to do a bit of check-ins and surprise inspections with the civilian contractors producing components in PB1-68 and Ganwon-do. If all was good as anticipated there, he would be in Port Royal for a few months and then back on the road to New Cornwall with a fresh set of keys from Admiral Logan.

He shook his head. Someone should send the damn things by secure courier, not make him burn the time to go back and forth. He'd complained to Horatio and even John over the ansible, but they'd just shrugged it off. He knew that they wanted his face time with the natives in PB1-68 and Ganwon-do to cement the Federation’s interests in the star systems, but geesh!

The good news was that he didn't have to travel by one of the freighters that was carrying cargo to Port Royal. He had a courier he could snag and use. It was due in a week. The crew would take three days to get to port and then would have the rest of the time up to their scheduled departure date as time off or time to resupply their ship.

He hoped they had improved their spades skills. The last run had been hopeless and boring. A fresh electronic library update would be nice too.

~~(O)~~

The Pi Effect Snippet 4

  Still rendering the next video project, the flashbacks are faster to render than the actual footage. (they are simple up to this point, single pic with FX for the most part) I am up to 12.5 minutes per frame and that is agonizing considering how much is left to go. :P Hopefully it is all worth it in the end!

   I ran into a snag with R2, I went to epoxy the body rings together and apparently waited too long, the JB weld dried in the tubes. So, I ordered a new one. Sigh.

Anyway, on to the snippet!

 

New Cornwall

 

Governor John Tremethyk smiled as the shuttle settled into its final decent. The fact that he wasn't afraid to take shuttle hops anymore was a nice thing. So too was the new shuttle, New Cornwall 1, as it was called, a blue and white livered shuttle built for exclusive government use.

No more having to take a commerical flight or military one he thought in amusement as he rubbed his jaw. He had a bit of stubble, but he'd deal with it later. It wasn't election time so he didn't mind looking a little scruffy.

He glanced over to Isabel Ferguson, his treasurer. She was one of two of his cabinet who had joined him for the ceremony, the other was Terry Watson, his minister of industry. They were capitalizing on the photo oppertunities of adding additional industry, and of course jobs and taxable income, to the economy.

Everyone was tickled by not one but two modern yards built in their star system recently. The military yard was the big dog, but the new civilian yard that Io 11had put in was nearly as important.

As was the space station they'd just visitied. The newly-built station was a factory station designed to make components for electronics to supply contractors in the yards as well as space industries across the star system and eventually the sector.

As long as nothing bad happened in the next two years, his next and final term was all but assured. He was pretty sure he would go down in local history as the man who ushered in New Cornwall's renniassance.

Of course it would be nice to secure their position as the sector capital. There hadn't been much on that front yet, but he was still hoping something would come about it soon.

In the meantime, he had a few things planned for beyond his final term. Nothing big, maybe some speaking gigs and motivational things. Dinners, maybe play the stateman thing and family man for a while. But if he could, he'd dip his toe in the bigger political pool. He was still feeling out how he could go about doing that.

He glanced over to the empty seat nearby. Another of his cabinet had hitched a ride up, but he had chosen to stay in space for the time being. Talk about big dogs he thought in amusement.

~~(O)~~

Rear Admiral Caine scratched at an itch behind a furry ear and then went back to looking on to the yard. Commodore Vestri Sindri was near. Vestri and Io 11had really turned their efforts around. The yard was growing explosively; their only limit was raw material now.

Well, that, credits to pay for it all and bodies to man the ships and yard modules. He flicked his ears and then shrugged internally. The money thing really wasn't his concern, the warm bodies were only partially his problem. Defending it all, now, that was his big concern.

He'd had his small sublight naval force to defend the star system before the Federation had shown up. He now knew how laughable that force was even if the Feds had given it professional courtesy. And his rank! Admiral! But they'd accepted his rank as a part of the process of taking New Cornwall in as a part of the Federation and placing the shipyard there.

The yard wasn't as big as the one in Antigua or in Pyrax. Not by a long shot. But it was a decent cruiser grade yard, and it was designed to grow over time into something bigger should the need arise.

He'd personally love to see it build capital ships but he didn't honestly see the need. Maybe in the future but not now.

His people had been retrained to take on ships that had come in from the Federation. A few hundred had been sent back to Rho to get more polish on them. So far they'd gotten a couple dozen back. He was a bit envious of them, getting the chance at really getting into the navy.

Until he felt the star system was secure and the local pirate threats reduced or eliminated, he was stuck in place. That was fine with him. He enjoyed watching his home grow and change. If he left and came back, it would be hard to accept all the changes that had been rought in his absence.

The first cruiser production run was in full swing. The new electronic factory station that the governor had just christened would play a large part in supplying them components to help speed up production. If there were no more hiccups on the molecular furnace station and transhab station being built, he'd see the yard's construction time cut by a third by the end of the quarter as Vestri promised.

He hoped so, though he was aware of external issues. And he still had the personnel side to deal with.

New Cornwall's Navy had at one time had its own training facilities. They'd had an academy, trade schools, the works. When they had joined the Federation, the navy had been folded into the Federation Navy. Rather than try to adapt the old facilities, the Federation had allocated money and materials to build new facilities.

Those facilities had been christened last year. He was grateful to them, though he was aware there were some ongoing issues. Teething issues with the staff and syllabus for one, minor protests and grumbling from the population were another. He hoped that the Federation had some people keeping an eye on that. He doubted it though; they only had a handful of government and law enforcement people in the star system at the moment.

He made a mental note to ask about that as he sat back in his chair.

Once they had two squadrons of cruisers in his home star system, he'd start to feel like a proper admiral. He knew he wasn't going to get them right away. Sure each ship would go through a series of working-up exercises and builder exercises in the star system, but most were already earmarked for picket or patrol duty across the sector.

What were those people going to see and endure? He couldn't help but envy them too. They were going to be the true investment that his people were putting into the Federation, the sector, and into the future.

In time he knew that the academy and enlisted training facilities would get recruits from all over the sector. So far they'd only had a few from nearby star systems, but that would change in time. He sure hoped so. The time they spent going to Rho was too much. A year in stasis? He could use them here!

His ears flicked. Of course, in five years that might change he reminded himself.

"Penny for your thoughts, sir?" his A.I. asked.

"Just ruminating, Roe, I'm fine."

"Okay. I'm sorry to interrupt but you have a few new files in your inbox."

The admiral nodded as he sat up straight. Having an A.I. in his implants was something he'd gotten used to but still bugged him on a very private level. At least Roe was nice about being there. He'd opted for a dumb A.I. so the ensign was going to grow slow. That was good; he needed an internal yeoman more than a virtual flag lieutenant.

"Okay, let's see what the damage is," he said as he wriggled his fingers and prepared himself for what was to come.

~~(O)~~

The Pi Effect Snippet 3

 Sitrep: So, I spent Monday working on a submission for the Daz International Women's Day render contest. It didn't quite render as planned but I got it out and submitted. :)

I had to take a break while the handyman fixed the water heater (bad thermister) so, hot water is back. Very cool... or should I say hot? lol

Anyway, I made some progress on the R2 but I ran into some issues and it looks like I'm going to have to slow or stop for a while. Bummer.

 

Hawkwood

 

Captain Raymond Bordou strolled through his ship and gave the occasional nod to his crew. The walk wasn't really an inspection, just a stroll to get some of his frustration out. He was suffering a lot of frustration these days.

The captain of the Admiral Hipper class heavy cruiser Hawkwoodhad left Horath full of life and eager for his mission. He had been senior officer of a six cruiser escort for three plague ships. He'd left his family behind to perform the mission even though it would be years before he'd return. He'd been tasked with the duty, however onerous it was, and he'd been determined to see it through.

No longer.

They hadn't received a warm reception in Devil's Playground or Tortuga Pi. That hadn't stopped him from showing his orders and making it clear he was determined to carry them out. What he hadn't counted on was the Federation's presence in the sector. They had just gotten the news that Port Royal had fallen.

He'd had a row with the admiral over being stopped and effectively turned into a fighting force to hold the Federation at bay. That hadn't been his mission. Admiral Suirez had stripped his force down to the three plague ships and Hawkwoodwhen he'd insisted the mission had to continue. The admiral had then sent them up to Devil's Anus.

He'd spent months fuming over that and over the strict orders not to deliver the payload of plague to the two worlds in the thirteen jumps north to Devil's Anus. That had been annoying but “Rear Admiral Blackfoot” had countersigned the order when he'd arrived.

Worse, she'd told him not to spread the plagues along the jump line west. His orders had said he couldn't salt plague on worlds the local pirates designated so he had to agree to her order.

She'd ordered him to head west and then south from PK5-136 into what was assumed as Federation friendly territory. He'd initially agreed; it would make sense to get behind the enemy lines and sow the plagues and disrupt their civilization that way.

It hadn't quite worked out that way however.

It had taken him nearly a year to get to PK5-136 and then south. But they had picked up rumors of the Federation and news of a battle in Horath along the way. He'd slowed down for supplies and to get more information since any data they picked up about the enemy could be valuable to Imperial Intelligence. Just knowing when a ship had come in and if it was on a set schedule might help the pirates in the area to ambush them … if he could get them off the stick to try it.

He'd sat his task force in PG9-137 before continuing. He'd considered heading south through the hidden jump chain in PG6-134, but the other captains had been less than confident about their survival in the jump chain. He had to admit, they were right, their ships weren't really set up to run the risks involved in running through destroyed star systems to get to where they needed to be. Worse, they'd come out and have to head to PR9-70 to the west. It was a space-only colony, and he was pretty sure that the enemy would be there, which was why he'd sat in orbit of Pk5-136 for so long while he considered his options.

He'd considered going north to Dante's Playground, but there were precious few worlds to perform his mission on. He was stymied. Which was why after sitting for so long he was headed back to Devil's Anus without anything to show for it.

That sucked.

He winced in memory at the run to Long Views in the south. The crew had been muttering about the stories they'd picked up on the colonies they'd passed through. He'd been slow on censoring them. That was his fault.

He'd initially discounted the reports as enemy propaganda but they'd been consistent. Worse, the news had come in at Long Views that Horath had been destroyed. He'd been shaken by the news, and the sight of a Federation picket ship had been enough of an incentive for him to turn tail and run north again back to PK5-136 and then back to PG9-137.

He'd spent the voyage back north contemplating the news. He'd had his XO pull everything together. Jamey Schultz was a good sort; she'd enlisted Lieutenant Tion as their resident skeptic to double check everything.

What they had shown him had brought up more questions. How had the Federation gone from a scavenged fleet to a full battle fleet that had bested Horath? What had happened? From the media reports they had shown him, it was clear that Horath had indeed been invaded. There were plenty of shots and video of Horath with landmarks they recognized.

Which meant the news that Horath had been nova bombed even worse.

What had happened to his family? Did any of them get out? There were stories of a pirate empress and of her retreat with a fleet of ships. What had happened there?

He shook his head. He personally doubted any of his family had survived, which left him little to nothing.

He looked over to where Clouse, his yeoman/steward, was clearing the dishes. No, that wasn't quite right. He had Hawkwood, his adopted family, his duty, and most importantly of all—vengeance.

His eyes grew cold as he stared out into the simulation of hyperspace on the window video screen nearby. He also had the means to exact vengeance; he just needed the right opportunity.

~~(O)~~

The Pi Effect Snippet 2

 Sitrep:

  The new video is slow going. Render time is averaging 7.5 minutes and I have spot checked and seen render times in other sequences as high as 18 minutes. (wince) The flashback sequences are faster since most are still shots... though some of the very complex animated ones are going to be fun to make let alone render. I haven't hit them yet but I'm getting close. 

   So, I'm averaging 50-60 frames a day if I am lucky. Hopefully I can get this done before... well, you'll see. :)

 Hopefully, though not soon. :)

  Anyway, I have no hot water, the tank died Saturday (that was a VERY COLD shower Saturday! and FAST! I found out the tank was busted the hard way!) lol so I'm dealing with that while also working on my R2, models I printed, the video project, and looking at entering that Daz3D contest as a last minute entry. (as if I don't have enough on my plate!)

Goodlifeguide said we should see the book back by Thursday. So, on to the snippet!

 

 

Tortuga

 

Rear Admiral Pacito Suirez scowled as he read the latest report. Two more ships had gone missing, both privateers. So much for trusting them he thought acidly.

He controlled a half a dozen star systems around Tortuga. They supplied the base, and he had placed ships in orbit as an early warning system to alert him if trouble came in their direction. So far they had paid off in scaring off a handful of nosy Fed prowlers and tin cans that had been sent his way.

Commander Yuri Sin had gotten better at rebuilding ships, so much better that he'd gotten a few back into commission. That had allowed the heavy worlder admiral to decide to secure the space further out around Tortuga and set up additional pickets. But the ships that were on picket duty were not out looting and plundering. In other words, there was no profit in being a glorified guard. And with the Federation bearing down on them, it behooved them to be elsewhere.

Anywhere else.

It didn't help that their own side was spreading plagues. He shook his head. Talk about cutting their own throats. Who wanted to go down to a world that was riddled with death? They might be pirates but they were not stupid! Horath hadn't created any sort of vaccine system for them, and the threat of it getting up to infect a ship was just too big a risk for anyone.

He growled softly. Stupid. It was all stupid and all above his pay grade. But he was the one stuck holding the bag.

Well, he needed more insurance on loyalty. He put out an alert to the other commands to let them know about the missing ships in case they turned up. That would be passed on to the other two pirate bases in the sector on the next ship that went out.

In the meantime, he decided he needed to review the loyalties of the warships still under his control. He needed better insurance. He had some of their families here, but any pirate worth their salt would be willing to cut their own ties if it meant their survival or hell, profit.

He shook his head. Sometimes he wondered if his side was the real winning side or not. He snorted. Who was he kidding? He knew they were not on the side of angels. He'd known that for ages.

~~(O)~~

Commander Yuri Sin felt like he needed a shower after coming out of a meeting with Lieutenant Bung. The fat greasy bastard was sweating more and more; most likely because he felt the same thing that he did, that there was a noose slowly tightening around their necks.

Well, the fat bastard wasn't wrong. But the engineering commander was doing his level best to keep the noose from getting a grip. If the quartermaster could just see that and keep his sticky fingers to himself, they'd be better off.

Hell, if Bung didn't learn it soon he fully intended to teach him the hard way, he thought with a pang as he wandered back to his office.

He was surprised to find Captain Charice Rico there waiting for him. He raised an eyebrow in inquiry. She held up a memory chip and put it on his blotter.

"You could have had a courier drop that off," he said as he went to his cabinet, unlocked it with his thumbprint and pulled out an unmarked bottle. As an engineer, he knew about all of the stills in the base and on the ships. He was frequently bribed with tipple and knew who made the best. He kept some for relaxation or trade.

He poured her a drink. She smiled and took it as she sat down.

"If I send it by courier or through the net, you would forget it or you'd conveniently lose it. This way I know that you know you got it."

He sighed. "Okay, what is it going to cost me?" he asked as he swirled his drink.

"The usual, time and due dillegence," she said as she took a sip.

"Sounds expensive," he growled as he took a gulp. Liquid lava hit his larynx. He ignored the flash of pain. "Any more word on survivors?" he asked after a moment to make sure he wouldn't cough or anything.

She shook her head, face set in stone.

He sighed a little. "Thought not," he said, knocking the glass back and then pouring them each another.

All of the pirates were still grappling over the loss of Horath. It was especially hard on those who were from Horath like the admiral and a lot of the command staff.

Billions had died. The pirates had a list of survivors going around. It was updated occasionally when a courier came in from Sigma.

"I still don't understand why they did it," she said.

He nodded. They'd gotten past the numb stunned disbelief and worked through the various stages of grief. He had accepted the loss as well as the loss of any plans for an empire. That begged the question why he was still doing his job.

The answer was simple, there wasn't much else to do. Besides, he loved his job. Even if it meant the occasional repulsive visit with a certain fat leech of a quartermaster.

"Any change to the story?" he asked.

She shook her head.

"Thought not," he said, knocking the glass back again. The empress claimed the Federation had nova bombed Horath. They had picked up a different story. Admiral Suirez had ordered the story suppressed, which just made it more salacious and interesting for those who heard it. It was an open secret now that the Federation disputed the empress's version of events.

According to what the Federation had released to the planets in No-Man's Land between Tortuga and Port Royal when they'd made contact, the GSN and other news agencies stated that the empress had countered Irons' threat with her own and then followed through when they had invaded the planet.

They hadn't held back the punches, including the fact that over half of their Second Fleet had been lost as well as a good chunk of their best and brightest on the ground. That included many who were still listed as MIA. The occasional ship straggled in or was found even to this day five years later, but the odds of survival were getting vanishingly slim for anyone still left out in the cold.

"I don't know who to believe," the captain admitted.

"But, given the choice between the two?" Yuri asked, examining his glass.

"Well, let's see, lying bitch who schemed and killed her whole family to get into power? Versus the Federation?" She shook her head.

"Yeah, when you put it that way …," he shook his head. Funny how you could trust the other side to tell the truth over your own people. What did that say about their society?

He shied away from that thought.

She took a sip of her drink and stared into it. "I know."

"So, what do we do?" he finally asked. They were in a familiar discussion point. It was a rut, one they found themselves in at least once a week if not more. He was pretty sure a lot of people were asking the same question.

There were a few people who had gotten out. They had headed north to Devil's Anus and parts unknown. He wished them the best of luck. Deserters according to the admiral. They might be rats deserting a sinking ship, but they were the smart ones.

That said a lot about him, didn't it? he thought in amusement as he poured another glass.

Charice shook herself, regaining her composure. "Do? We do our damn jobs. It sucks, but this is the hand we've been dealt. The Feds won't give us a break. I'm not going to roll over and surrender so they can trot me out an airlock without the benefit of a suit."

"True. I agree. Why should we make it easier for them to kill us? Besides, if we can kill a few of them along the way?" He smirked. One thing that the Feds had done was get everyone off the stick. They were doing more than what had been done in centuries. They were accomplishing incredible things. A part of it had to do with the tech transfers that had come before and after Hawkwood'svisit but not all.

He had been muddling around, not really pushing his job until the Feds had scouted Tortuga and they'd gotten reports of the same at the other bases. Funny that. What was the saying? Something about the prospect of a hanging concentrating a man's thoughts? Well, it worked. It had also brought some people together.

Of course the news that Horath had fallen and been destroyed had shattered some. But others had been grimly determined to get some sort of payback. It wasn't like they could find a job anywhere else after all.

He paused to wonder again if the Feds had deliberately released the information about Horath where they could pick it up in order to hurt their morale. It was possible. The empress bitch hadn't denied it either. She'd even pinned it on the Feds, which had confirmed it to those who had still been in denial.

"Glad you do. Let's get back to work then," she said, setting the glass down and nodding firmly to herself.

"It'd be nicer if we could just stick to the old code," he said, knocking the glass back and then putting the glasses and bottle away.

"Ah?" she asked. "Dare I ask?"

"Fight to run away," he said as he locked the cabinet. He knew any decent engineer could get into it without damaging the contents. Anyone else would probably try the crowbar route. If they did, they'd find little left by the time they got the thing open, but he was borrowing trouble thinking about that.

She wrinkled her nose. "Nice thought. I'd be careful running that one up the flagpole though. But I agree. We should have an exit strategy. Her highness might want us to 'hold the line' but you noticed she ran from Horath? And is hiding somewhere in Sigma? Her neck isn't on the line. Ours is. She hasn't done anything for us except cut orders."

She shook her head. The problem was Admiral Suirez had come up through the ranks as a battlefleet officer before a scandal twenty-five or so years ago had forced him to switch services to the Gather Fleet. He'd given up his dream of commanding fleets in favor of staying in a service and commanding a fleet base.

Tortuga in other words and since he was ranking officer in the sector, Pi was his to command. But a lot of his legitimacy went with his power base and with his ties to Horath. Horath was gone, but the empress was still there. Some still listened to her. She was the “port in the storm” for many to this day.

Many still insisted she was right and ignored any contrary opinions. More than one person had been killed in an agruement over that.

He grunted. "It's not up to either of us. But yeah, good idea. Getting certain people to set up a GOTH plan though?"

The captain grimaced. "True. I don't know what the admiral is thinking these days. He's playing his cards close to his vest," she admitted. That was never good, especially with her since she was his chief of staff. She was supposed to be his XO, his sounding board, and his confidant. He was shutting her out more and more with his glacial eyes and cold demeanor.

Yuri nodded with a grimace. "But I think it is only prudent to keep our exit strategies open and ready to implement if we need them."

Charice nodded once.

Yuri slapped his thighs with his hands. "Well, for the moment, we've got time. The Feds are content to stay in Port Royal."

"Yeah, but that begs the question, what are they doing there? I hate it when they are just sitting on their laurels like that. They are too quiet, which makes me nervous."

"Me too. They have to be doing something," he said and then hesitated.

"You think they are up to something?" Charice asked, cocking her head. She was curious about his unique viewpoint and what he might have to say.

"If we're not gathering intelligence, who is to know?" Yuri shook his head. Charice winced. "I think we need to find out before whatever they are doing comes and bites us in the ass."

The captain thought about that and nodded. She fully agreed with him and had tried to do that very thing. So far they hadn't gotten anywhere though. The only intelligence they got was picked up from planets in No Man's Land. Getting a ship in close to check though was tricky. No ship that had gotten close had come back. "True. You think they are assembling a fleet to come after us and bounce us out once and for all?"

"Possibly. I'd say probably myself," Yuri admitted.

"Eventually. They have to consolidate what they have and deal with the threat from the north with Dante's Playground," she reminded him.

"And the plagues. Yes, I know. I still don't trust them. Ignorance in this case is definitely not bliss," he growled. They both knew that the plagues were infuriating the population against them. But it was a distraction.

"If they got their fleet torn up in Horath, how could they come after us?" Charice asked carefully.

Yuri frowned thoughtfully. "That was five years ago. They can build more ships," he reminded her. She grimaced but nodded. "There were also a lot of wrecks in Port Royal. They could rebuild those."

She wrinkled her nose. "Yeah, but they were wrecks. The best stuff got sent here or is stuck at one of the other places or was sent on to Horath long ago. They'd also need people to crew them."

Commander Sin shrugged. "I don't know what to tell you other than to point to their history."

She blinked in confusion. "History?"

"Look at what this Admiral Irons did to get to this point. He salvaged ships in Pyrax to stop the task force sent there to take it. Then he salvaged more ships and built a navy that took on and beat Horath."

The captain scowled but nodded.

"Now whoever is in charge at Port Royal has all of those ships at their disposal. According to their own reports, they got hurt bad at Horath, and yeah, they probably threw a lot into chasing the empress down, but they can still send a few ships this way, especially if they want to cut off her retreat in this direction."

"True," the captain said slowly. She nodded. That made sense, a lot of sense actually.

"I can dredge up a list of ships there. See what they might have to work with. It would be a start."

She blinked and then nodded. "Better than what intel is throwing us. No news is good news," she said, throwing her hands up in disgust. Why the admiral went with them she had no idea.

"Seriously?" Yuri demanded, staring at her in surprise. "Aren't they tracking the Fed ships? Getting a location and number? Giving us an indication of where they are going and what they might target next? You know, intelligence things?"

The captain shook her head. "Obviously you haven't been to many of the meetings as of late," she said. It was a well known fact that Yuri used every excuse in the book to avoid meetings. Usually he was out somewhere in the yard “delayed” or off on a ship when one came up. The time lag made it impossible for him to attend except virtually or by sending a canned report of his department's activities.

He scowled and then began to curse.

She snorted. "Careful. You might get stuck in their job too."

"Pass," Yuri growled. "I like my gig thank you very much."

"Okay. Get me that list and then you have my permission to play with your spanners," she said, lips puckering in a slight smile as she stood up. "But only until dinner time and then you are to wash up," she teased, holding up a finger.

He rolled his eyes but smiled. "Yes, mom," he chuckled as they parted ways.

~~(O)~~

The Pi Effect Snippet 1

 So, it's that time again, time for snippets!

I just got through the edits after Rea passed the manuscript back to me. It is off to Goodlifeguide.

I am working on another video project (and my R2) for a bit. I should start the next book sometime next week.

Anyway, on to the snippet!

 

Port Royal

 

Vice Admiral Horatio Logan stared at the schedule. So far so good but they were hanging in there by the skin of their teeth and tips of their fingernails.

He snorted at his thought. He had started the project with the factory ships Ptah, Io 11, and the engineering spaces on the various ships in the Hero's Riseflotilla. Oh, and the mountain of material that had come in from Rho. Building the industry to build the Dyson shell and the industry to build the gate had been a bitch. But there was a reason he'd released Io 11 and Ptahto other duties; they were no longer needed. The industry was self-sustaining at this point.

Well, with a bit of help from shipments from Rho of course. Like the convoy that had recently come in. Six more large and eighteen smaller force emitters had arrived. They were halfway to building the gate at this point and he was happy.

It had only cost them a half a dozen moons, an unknown number of asteroids, and a couple of dwarf planets, not to mention a lot of the stockpiled material the pirates had stolen and hoarded to get there on his end.

He checked the latest news. Beau would of course highlight anything relevant to his command or to the sector. There were a couple of dozen entries; the couriers had picked up news along the route to him but nothing about Port Royal or the gate. That was a relief.

One damn leak was all it had taken to ruin his day almost five years ago he thought blackly. He didn't want another—hence, the additional security at the jump points.

Ships now unloaded at the jump point, transferring their contents to orbital warehouses under the guns of the picket and orbital fortresses there. The orbital forts were Mulberry class affairs, one command fort at each jump point that controlled an array of mines and weapon platforms.

He wanted, nay, craved more, and he'd get it in time, but for the moment he was stuck with what he had. The other forts had been redirected to New Cornwall. He had the State Department and Admiral Irons signing off on it to thank for that.

Politics he thought in annoyance.

"My, you are in a mood," Lieutenant Beau, his A.I., observed in a soft contralto in his ear.

"A little."

"Why? Aren't you happy we aren't in the news?"

"No news is not necessarily good news. But in this case, I'll take what I can get I suppose. At least our people are taking the security classification seriously. Finally," he growled.

It had only taken a couple of court-martials and captain's masts to get the point across. Most of the leakers had acccepted NJP or Non-Judicial-Punishment and a removal of their security clearance for the leak. Forfetier of pay, reduction in rank—none of that would get the secrecy of the star system back.

At least they'd gotten the media to censor the information from feeds that were sent to nonincorporated worlds. ONI and SIS were keeping an eye on them to make sure of it.

It wouldn't be forever. He knew it, and they knew it. But until they took down the pirates in his Area of Operations it was technically still classed as a war zone. Hence, the legality of the censorship.

He shook his head as he rocked his chair a little. "Just moody I guess. It started with annoyance over the leak and then went to politics."

"Ah. So, situation normal?"

He snorted. "Something along those lines. I'd like to get a handle on state. Or better still, get someone to sit on them and or duct tape their mouths shut so they will stop dipping into our toy box. I don't have the ships to deploy in endless supply like they seem to think," he growled.

"Agreed and understood, sir," Beau said in a sympathetic tone of voice.

"In other words, preaching to the choir and you've heard it all before. Sorry."

"That's what I'm here for, sir, sounding board among other job descriptions," Beau replied with a smile in her voice. He knew it was designed to get him to buck up a little. It did help.

His command had its share of mixed luck over the past five years, but he had to admit it was better than what was going on in Rho and Sigma.

Rho had suffered the battle of Horath and the seeming end of the Horathian threat. To him and other naval personnel, it was a painful thing; they'd lost a lot of good freinds in the nova bomb. A lot were still classified as missing in action too, though hopes of any of them turning up five years later were dim at best.

Admiral Irons had weathered the political storm from it but it hadn't been easy. It had left a lot of scars, but the admiral was hanging in there, grimly determined to see it through. It being the reestablishment of the Federation as a galactic government and civilization, the end of the pirates, and a few other things along the way.

One of which was his project for his sins.

He was a sleeper like the admiral, having grown up during the golden age of the Federation over seven centuries ago. He'd fought in the Xeno war and had been lost in an escape pod when his ship had fallen short of getting to safety in Pyrax. He'd drifted for centuries in sleep. When he'd awoken, it had been over a century prior. He'd been a borderline slave, chief engineer of the mining station Anvil.

He'd had been lonely and nearly driven insane by his implants wanting him to suicide. But he'd doggedly persisted in what he percieved as his duty to keep the lights on in the station. He'd met and married a beautiful woman, had a daughter, mourned his wife, and had been nearly killed trying to keep things together just before Admiral Irons had shown up to save the day.

He'd reenlisted when the pirates had threatened to attack. They'd salvaged ships like Firefly, built a task force that had captured the enemy task force, then used their resources to build a growing shipyard and naval complex before Admiral Irons had been forced out of the star system.

He'd been stuck in command for years until Admiral Irons had set up a capital in Antigua. Then he'd had a series of misadventures in Bek, another last minute save by Admiral Irons, and then he'd been sent here.

Where he was still trying to hang onto things.

Sigma on the other hand was a mess. Fifth and what was left of Second Fleet were out there somewhere, hunting for “Catherine Ramichov, pirate empress” and her fleet as well as her salvaged battle moon. So far, no such luck finding either.

Her father had started a course of genocide, unleashing plagues first in Rho, then Tau, Sigma, Pi, and quite possibly beyond. Rho had stamped out the plagues, but the other sectors were still struggling.

Well, he had it out and most of the populations vaccinated in Federation controlled space. Unincorporated space and neutral star systems were a different story.

He held command on his space station Command One. From here he could see and direct the progress on the two titanic projects under his control. But he had another mission too, one that had so far failed utterly.

He had been tasked with clearing his Area of Operations of pirates. That had turned out to be easier said than done. Part of it had been due to bad luck, another to a lack of resources, and a third reason was the meddlings of politics.

Four years ago, he had felt confident enough to reform the Hero's Risetask force and dispatch the ships to Tortuga. Unfortunately, they hadn't gotten far and had been brought back due to a collision with a rogue grav wave. The escort carrier and several other ships had hit it and suffered engineering casualties onboard. There had been twenty-six deaths, and thirty-nine injured on Hero's Rise alone. Murphy, the spirit of mischief, chaos, and bad luck, had certainly put in an appearance that day.

They had nearly lost the ships; they'd lost grav nodes and had suffered hull and internal damage. The task force had dropped out of hyperspace to make what repairs they could. They had limped back to Port Royal at low octaves of Alpha nearly a year later.

It had been another black eye for the navy to handle right after Horath. The media had gone into a bit of a feeding frenzy over it.

He hadn't been able to follow the attack up with a proper one since. The attempts to scout Tortuga with prowlers had so far failed. He'd finally signed off on a long shot to try it from another angle.

It was going to be months before they got there and months more before the intel got back to him. Only then would he allow another mission to be planned and launched.

It bothered him to let the pirates have all that free time. They had a mothball yard and plenty of motivation to do something about it. But for the moment, his hands were tied.

"Just … moody I guess," he said again.

~~(O)~~

Federation Flyby Video

 Okay first, the usual sitrep:

I finished the rough draft of Searching for a Needle, it is in the hands of the first Betas now. I also roughed out the cover:

Should be fun.

In other news, I'm working on a backlog of projects and stuff. Oh, and I finished this:

Cool! The Colonel pointed out I should make another version pointing out what ships are what. I'm considering it.

I am also starting to ramp up work on another video too. More on that later.

If you like the video give it a thumbs up please!

Time to go see what other mischief I can get into!

Ashes is Publishing NOW!

 Ashes, Tales of Ragnarok 2 is publishing now.

"Ashes, Ashes we all fall down!"

The Federation is being torn apart by the invading Xenos. In the chaos some events unfold that have a resonating effect throughout the ages. Here are those stories.

 

For those of you who don't know, Ashes is a series of short stories, many of which will have far reaching impacts into the future... up to and beyond the current timeline. :) 

I'll post the links when they go live.

Ashes Snippet 4

 So, still plodding away with the video rendering, stealing time to render here and there. (30 minutes on the potty for 5 frames? Sure, why not?)

Anway, I have a problem to work out but otherwise, still rendering. Fun. I'm also still blocking Searching for a Needle and The Long Road Home. Also fun.

 

Oh, and Happy Birthday Jory!

 

On to the snippet!

 

Cast:

Sedrick Ramichov

Katya Ramichov: Wife of Sedrick.

Illya Ramichov: Six-year-old son of Katya and Sedrick.

Admiral Theodore Rico

Odette Tucket

Javier Jaberwoky: Family owns most of refineries.

Captain Ken Knowles "KK"

Valerian Pushkin

Hazel Takao

Midshipman Razer Ishmael

 

Horath

 

Sedrick smiled to himself as he looked out to the night sky and then up. He could just make out the faint glitter of the orbital warehouse. Beyond that he could imagine the glitter of the repair slip under construction. This was their time to shine.

His eyes fell to the city lights below and beyond. They spread out beyond to the curve of the planet. It was pretty, but he wanted more. Horath had always kept quiet. Now that was going to change … in time.

The reports had come in; the Federation was in full collapse. There was effectively no central government and no military. No law enforcement to oppose them.

Again, it was their time. Time to do more. Time to build his empire.

He'd wanted the Garth yard transported to Horath but the Tucket family had resisted. They had designated Garth as their little fiefdom to be, and he'd decided to let them have it. Their vision was so much smaller than his.

Other families had chosen the places they wanted to stake out. The Rico family wanted to build a navy. Other militant families were in agreement. He was in agreement. In order to fulfill his vision of an empire, he was going to need a navy.

Well, two navies, he thought, turning away and to the glass table near his chair. He poured himself a shot of vodka and then took a seat. He clipped his cigar, lit it, and then dipped the end in the vodka for a second before putting it back in his mouth to puff on it for a moment.

The taste was great. Even better when he considered the future.

He had already laid out his grand vision to the select few he trusted. They in turn had named their price to support it. He would need to set up a college eventually for the nobles to be. A parliament, that sort of thing. He sniffed, more in disdain over that than the fragrant smoke from the cigar.

If they only knew what he had planned …?

<<<*>>>

Admiral Theodore Rico nodded as he walked through the base. They were already drawing up plans for a space station of course, a command center for the navy he was going to build. Until then he had to use a campus on the ground.

He wore a snow white uniform, the only one in the navy at the moment. He loved gold braid and such but such things were for formal affairs. It was going to be a while before they commissioned their first proper warship so he would leave the formal uniform in his closet for formal dinners and the like.

Of which he was probably going to be enduring entirely too many of while they got their collective act together. Honestly, a spacer belonged in space. The sooner they got something, hell, at this point he'd take a cruiser as a temporary flagship, the better.

A Varbossa lad in a midshipman's uniform ran past him. He glared, making a note of the trespass. The young man needed to learn about protocol and manners. He made a mental note to have the academy look into that soon.

They were going to need everything. An academy, bases, written rules—the lists went on and on. It was daunting. One thing they were not going to abide by were A.I. He for one wouldn't allow them in the fleet. He couldn't and wouldn't trust them. The only person who ran his ships would be his officers and crew, not some jumped-up computer program.

He and the other families had insisted on splitting the navy into two parts. The first, the Battle Fleet, would protect Horath and eventually their empire. The other, the Gather Fleet would be the pirate fleet. The Gather Fleet would go out and play Q ship and pirate, tearing apart and picking the bones of the old Federation and bringing the booty back to Horath or to staging sites across the galaxy.

He was particularly looking forward to any military salvage they gathered for him and “his” navy. He knew he wasn't going to be able to keep his hands clean forever, but it was nice to pretend, at least for a while.

What was the term the Jabberwocky's had? Oh, yes, pre-salvage. He snorted at that idea. The joke was well known by pirate and mercenary clans.

Really, it was going to be years before they had a large enough navy to truly defend the star system effectively. They were going to have to be cautious as they felt their way across the galaxy, making contacts and taking command of the pirate enclaves and bases. They were going to have to have a solid battle line with fortresses and the like to protect Horath before the empire formally launched and the true conquest of the Federation began. He had faith in his people though. With order, discipline, and a healthy incentive, they'd get it done.

And if they didn't? Well, he'd be there to make sure they did. Even if he had to kick a few asses and make a few examples to get his point across.

<<<*>>>

The young woman smiled as she went through customs. Ships were moving in and out of Horath more frequently. It had been tricky to get a ticket. Horath seemed to be the place though to be in the sector at the moment.

“Name?” a bored customs agent asked. 'Hey, lady, name?” he demanded.

The woman shrugged internally. "Call me Hazel. Hazel Takeo …"

<<<*>>>

Ashes Snippet 3

 So, I managed to render 10 seconds of the video last night, and 2 today at breakfast and another 2 at lunch. This is going to be a long term render project.

Anyway, Firefox is acting up so let's see if I can get the snippet out:

 

Cast:

Necron Bishop Hemdale

Jimmy Faldron: Convert

 

Founders:

Doctor Victor “Doctor Death” Mengelov: Necron leader.

Doctor Nesset: Necron second-in-command.

Doctor Shio Ishi: Necron third-in-command.

Doctor Dollmaker

Doctor Hugo Strange

Doctor Cadmus Peverell: Deathly hallow loved a woman who died, tried to bring her back, suicide.

 

Scottsdale IV, Epsilon Sector

 

Bishop Hemdale walked with a slow pace through the black halls. He had no idea why the Necrons preferred Gothic architecture. He didn't understand a lot of things about his adopted people. He didn't need to.

He was dressed in flowing robes of blood red and black. A matching mitre was on his head. Gold was woven into his outfit. The gold was a circuit design that interfaced with his cybernetic implants. The robes and mitre were to cover any blood he encountered. The mitre also covered the fact that his skull had been opened up, and he now had metal and plastic components along with a clear glass shell.

He didn't care for looks. He had risen through the Scottsdale chapter ranks to get where he was. He, unlike some of their number, actually appreciated his new form and newfound power.

Before, he had been a poor, down-on-his-luck immigrant on the streets of the colony. He'd come with such high hopes, trained in a variety of skills from construction to trauma medicine. He'd been dismayed that housing had been so crushingly expensive.

Since he had been new, he hadn't had an address. He, therefore, was classed as transitory. He'd tried to stay at a motel and had burned through what little cash he had rather quickly. He'd made mistakes.

When he'd been kicked out, he'd found it even harder to find a job. No one would hire him since he had no roots or a place to check on him. It had been hard to see interviewers give a fake customer service smile and pass him by.

Without money he had been stuck on the streets. At night he had been oppressed by the local law, driven into the shadows and away from the public eye. The public citizens and tourists didn't like the homeless population.

He'd worked whatever day laborer job he could find to get income with the intent of clawing his way back into the good graces of society. He had never been able to save anything though and had been robbed more than once. Several times he'd worked for someone and gone above and beyond to do the job … only to be stiffed in the end and laughed at. He hadn't been able to call the police for help, and they knew it and had taken advantage of him. He'd tried his hand at panhandling too when he was desperate and had endured beatings because of it.

He had become desperate and depressed and had fallen into the usual sewer of drug use and alcohol to cope. That had started him on a fast downward spiral. He'd even sold his body for sex a few times just to get his next fix when the addiction had kicked in and the cravings had gotten bad.

The Necrons had found him, half alive. He'd all but given up on life. They had shown him a new path. Cybernetic implants changed the cravings to one of power and of pleasure from direct neural stimulation of his pleasure centers.

He had risen through the ranks, showing a willingness that others lacked. He had even met a clone of Doctor Dollmaker and had been ordained into the Necron priesthood, their medics.

The clone had been one of several who had been making the rounds apparently. But he spoke with the master's voice.

He touched the Lazarus mind through his implants, caressing its sleeping mind and then went back to his walk.

His body was hunched over; he had implants on his back along with additional grafted on limbs. His legs had been replaced long ago. His flesh was weak with age and with rejection of the implants, but his spirit was alive with a fire and zeal few in their ranks had.

Which was why he was in charge, and they knew it.

<<<*>>>

Jimmy muttered, head bouncing around as he gibbered. He was in the throws of a bad trip he thought over and over again. The things that carried him were a nightmare.

His body was partially paralyzed from whatever spider thing had found him. He'd been asleep in the flood canal and now they were carrying him … somewhere. It was hard to think.

He started to gibber and someone in black and red touched him gently. He saw a needle come out of a hand and claw-like fingers stroke his flesh before the needle was plunged in.

Bliss overtook him within seconds,and he groaned greedily, happy once more.

<<<*>>>

Ashes Snippet 2

 Sitrep: So far not much headway on the animation, I'm waiting on feedback.

In other news I've made some minor progress with Searching for a Needle, and The Long Road Home.

   Searching for a Needle is book 1 of Pirate Hunt, the next Irons series. I'm in the blocking phase now. It will be in parallel to Diplomacy, Parabellum, The Pi Effect, and the Long Road Home. (It is the anchor line in other words)

  The Long Road Home is the next much anticipated Jethro Goes to War book. I had intended to write it first but I only had enough material for a very short (Very very short) short story... up until this morning. Pieces started to fall into place and I rolled out of bed and did some blocking. Hopefully it makes sense to my now caffeine invigorated brain. :)

 I am also debating on moving Academy to the short story anthology books. I had it blocked out years ago but never got around to writing it. You can see pieces of it in a few books. I threw people out there but then never got around to filling them in after that. Academy getting shelved is why. (that and I forgot them)

Anyway, on to the snippet!

  Whelp, I nearly had a heart attack! I went to grab the snippet and found out I'd put it in the wrong folder... and moved the file there. I thought I'd accidentally deleted Horatio 4! Whew! Glad I've got backups! That could have been messy!

 

Cast:

Captain SG Unicron: A.I. of Unicron. Ship A.I. As senior ranking officer acting captain after captain and flag officers killed in battle.

Commander Ozzie Bankole: Male Neogorilla. XO of the ship. Former TO of Battle Planet Colussus. Family man as a silverback with his own troop.

Commander Tornedron: A.I. Male. Resents being passed over for promotion and relegated to being under the thumb of organics. TO of the ship.

Lieutenant Commander Maev Hannibal: Chief engineer.

Governor Carrie Urban

Arblus: Technician on Lithone.

Lieutenant Kranix: A.I. Army. Retired to Lithone.

 

In hyperpace, Epsilon Sector

 

Lieutenant Commander Maev Hannibal, acting chief engineer stared at the inventory. It was better known for what was missing than what was left.

She was normally a glass half full sort of lady. Get her part of the way through a problem and she would take it the rest of the way. Engineers were problem solvers; they loved to get the job done and make a “miracle.” She had a motto etched on a plaque. “The difficult is done at once. The impossible takes a little longer.” She loved it and taught it to her crew. They had a reputation after all.

But damn. The war was grinding them down. Loosing half of their department hadn't helped.

She looked at the list again. The battle damage had been extensive. They had lost Unicron's internal yard, her nay, his small craft production center,the various subassembly lines, and a good chunk of their stores. Most of their magazines had been shot dry.

In other words, they were in a shot-up battle planet that had only his energy weapons left and not much industrial capacity at all. Oh, their molecular furnaces worked but so what? She shook her head in annoyance.

She looked down the list with the red lines. Nothing really jumped out at her. She finally grimaced and shook her head. “Okay let's take this from another view. What do we have left?” she asked. She had damage control parties still sorting out the wreckage. They were supposed to set aside anything that might be repairable. So far that list was depressingly small. Somehow she had to rebuild the ship with what?

Her eyes scanned down the list. She had about twenty industrial replicators left, all class 2. None were larger than three cubic meters. That sort of build volume sharply limited her options. And then there was the other big problem, the lack of keys.

She made a puttering sound and then dug into the list to see what she could do with what she had left. Some progress was better than none she reminded herself.

~@~

Commander Ozzie Bankole snorted, large nostrils dilating for a brief moment before he gave in and rubbed against the corner. No one was around, and even if they were, he didn't give a shit at the moment. Whoever thought it was a good idea to give primates the same nudity taboo as humans should have been given itching powder in every damn outfit they ever wore.

The corner wasn't quite sharp enough to get the itch completely, but it did give his back a warm friction burn after a few minutes. “Are you quite finished marking your territory, Commander?” a familiar bass voice asked.

“Just about. I hate having an itch I can't scratch,” The Neogorilla growled. He rolled his shoulders. “Can I help you, Captain?” he asked as he adjusted his uniform.

He was still feeling out his relationship with Captain Senior Grade Unicron. Unicron was the acting captain as he was the acting XO. He'd come off of Colussus so he had experience handling a ship so large. What he didn't have experience with was having an A.I. for a boss and being essentially screwed, blued, and tattooed as his father used to pithily say.

“There are some problems with some of the passengers. They also keep thinking I'm some dumb waiter. Remind them of their status,” the A.I. growled. The Neogorilla hid a grimace but nodded dutifully. “I also called for a senior staff meeting this evening.”

“Yes, sir. Can I ask what about?”

“What else?” the A.I. asked. “The repair status. We're not making much progress, and I expect that to change right away or heads will roll.”

“Yes, sir. I'll pass that along.”

“You do that, Commander,” the A.I. said tartly and then the voice clicked.

The Neogorilla knew better than to say something about his boss. The A.I. was watching at all times even if he seemed to be busy doing other things.

He shook his head as he pulled up a list of passengers. It would have been helpful if the captain had told him who specifically was treating him like a bot but apparently not. He checked the culprits he did know about. Most were settling down so he decided to have a chat with them.

As he wrote a list and then began to ping their locations in the ship, he plotted a route to hit each and a few stops along the way. The ship was the size of a planet; there was no way any officer could do a walkabout in her in their lifetime. Officers had to trust the equipment and their people.

Trust but verify Ozzie his errant mind thought before he brushed the thought away in irritation.

Once he had a map, he started in on it as he checked in with the status of the various departments. There were constant complaints from tactical, no surprise there. All they had left were their shields and energy weapons. Half of their energy weapons he reminded himself.

“Maev,” he said, calling the chief.

“Yes, Commander?” a familiar voice asked tiredly. Her image appeared in a window on his HUD a moment later. She was apparently near a camera since it was a live feed. “I am assuming you are looking for a status report for our lord and master?” she asked flippantly.

He scowled. “Maev,” he said in a darker tone of voice.

“Sorry. Tired. What gives?”

“As it happens, yes, I was asked to look into things. We have a senior officer meeting this evening.” He realized the captain hadn't given him a time. Rather than ping him he decided to shoot from the hip. “Seventeen hundred. Understood?”

“Sure.”

“In person.”

She grimaced but then nodded. “I'll be there. Where are you off to?”

“I need to remind some of the passengers to behave again.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Don't we have people for that? And shouldn't you just call them?”

“Sometimes it's best to make the proper impression in person,” he said gruffly.

She nodded.

“But you are right. We need a purser or quartermaster. Candidates?” he asked.

“A bean counter would be good. I don't have any off the top of my head. Definitely none I can spare. I do have …,” she frowned. “I know some of the departments didn't get too badly chewed up when we lost most of our stores. There mightbe one or two people left.”

“I'll look into it.”

“Okay. Anything else?”

“Where are we with repairs?”

“Trying to make bricks without straw tends to be an impossible task. We're making headway, but it's not much. Probably why we're going to get chewed out.”

He grimaced as he got into a lift. “Possibly. Any way to accelerate repairs?”

“Not without a yard or at least a mobile shipyard or tender. Or a couple dozen of them but they seem to be in short supply at the moment,” she said dryly. “I've got a couple of class 2 industrial replicators, and that's about it. Which, given the list of repairs,” she waved a tablet, “is like trying to bail an ocean with a teaspoon.”

“Well, every little bit helps. Keep on it. Think outside the box.”

“I am. We lost a lot of supplies. The scrap will only get us so far. We need to stop somewhere that has supplies and restock.”

“Ah. I'll pass that on or you can bring it up at the meeting. Out.”

“Out,” she said as the signal disconnected.

~@~