Chronicles of the Republic

By Michael McGinty

Chronicles of the Republic takes place at the tail end of a spiral galaxy, a cove in the galaxy three light years long and an uneven six months wide. The republic consists of ten solar systems in rough proximity within the cove. Over time, inter-planetary political, social and economic cooperation matured into a full-fledged political system, a republic, with a president, a bicameral legislature, a judicial system and a Fleet to protect its interests.
The systems are bordered on one side by a belt of dust, rocks and small nomadic planets known as the asteroid belt. The belt is lawless, home to pirates who prey on shipping.
The other border is thin wisp of dust which gives way to an open clear void running for more than a light year to another strand of the galaxys spiral.
The outermost tip of the Republic is known as the Outer Region. This is the closest point of the Republic to the Sardos, who at that point are roughly a year away at light speed across the void. The Outer Region is home for the Fifth Fleet, several Fleet land bases and a population of prospectors and itinerants.
The story is about how a successful and powerful Republic finds itself confronted by a military crisis. It begins just prior to the crises and follows the political, business and military leaders from peace to war.
It is a story of people, social processes, politics, military action, the common mans view of events, and the lurching imperfect interactions of people that leads a society to its future.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Oct 22, 2012
• ISBN: 9781477227916

Book preview

CHRONICLES

OF THE

REPUBLIC

MICHAEL MCGINTY

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AuthorHouse™

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© 2012 by Michael McGinty. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 10/17/2012

ISBN: 978-1-4772-2558-5 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4772-2791-6 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2012911188

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Front Cover Credit: NASA, ESA, Hubble Heritage Team (STScI / AURA) Hubble Heritage (STScI/AURA)

Contents

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two

Chapter Twenty Three

Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five

Chapter Twenty Six

Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight

Chapter Twenty Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One

Chapter Thirty Two

Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four

Chapter Thirty Five

Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven

Chapter Thirty Eight

Dedication

A society is rarely without a crises of some form or another, be it war, economic hardship, changing social mores, or even stagnation.

Its always individuals who bear the burden of resolving the crises or of seeing their way clearly to accept change.

This book is dedicated to the ordinary citizen who each day accepts the challenge of living, of meeting the forces which seek to limit his or her progress, and whose courage and insight are the foundation upon which society advances.

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Chapter One

What happened to Fila?

Un… le to man . . . ver… Loss of pow . . . . The voice was lost in a crackle of static and feedback that made the listeners wince. The urgent chimes of general quarters were sounding in the background as the crew of Dreva raced to their stations.

Heta frowned. What’s going on? she thought. We can’t help you until we know what’s going on

She could feel her body tense, her heart beating faster. At the age of eighty-five, with nearly fifty years of service in the Fleet, Heta was two thirds through a career spent entirely in Reconnaissance. Deliberate, sure of judgment, seasoned, Heta had faced innumerably similar situations in the past. The best way to face them, she knew, was to anticipate and avoid them. Someone apparently had not and now was in trouble.

Ask him to repeat. she directed urgently. Ask him what’s happened to his video.

"Fila, unable to copy. the communications officer said. Request repeat and video." A brief burst of static that may or may not have been a reply was followed by silence.

How far away can she be? Heta asked, genuinely puzzled. What’s going on out there? she thought again.

Unless under attack or setverely damaged, Fila’s communication equipment should have been able to link up with Dreva easily, given her estimated position. The communications officer continued his efforts to raise the ship.

Fila and her sister ship, Funi, had acted as escorts during the last five months as Dreva, a dedicated reconnaissance vessel, patrolled along the edge of one of the Republic’s borders.

Dreva was mammoth, an ungainly ship at the best of times. Once on patrol, however, she morphed into something resembling base-station, retaining little or no maneuverability. To maximize the amount of space surveyed, Dreva deployed four poles built into the hull of the ship. Each was ninety degrees from its neighbor and one-hundred and eighty degrees from its opposite. The poles telescoped out for almost a mile during a process that took nearly an entire day.

Another day or more was spent joining the poles at several levels with sensor laden Filament composite to form an immense antenna for several major sensing devices which electronically and thermally listened, sniffed, and probed for anything and everything in its path.

Virtually defenseless during this process, ships such as the Dreva were accompanied by fleet units for protection, in this case two F-class cruisers. It was dull duty for the escorts and it was customary to maintain efficiency and skill levels by investigating space debris or asteroids.

Fila had been engaged in the latter. Dreva’s patrol line had taken them to the farthest tip of a thick line of dust, rocks and asteroids that stretched along one border of the Republic. At its thickest, the belt was several hundred thousand light years wide. Dreva and her escorts, however, were at the beginning of the belt, where the rocks and dust were generally widely scattered.

Four hours earlier, Fila had proceeded into a small cluster of asteroids for weapons practice. The irregular movement of the smaller rocks made excellent training targets. She should have returned within two or three hours. She hadn’t been heard from until a distress signal had been received ten minutes ago.

Still no answer, Captain. said the communications officer.

"Dreva’s crew at general quarters, Captain. reported the officer of the deck. Five minutes and sixteen seconds. Condition Yellow set. The Executive Officer is on the bridge."

Not a terrific response time. thought Heta. Though her station was on the bridge, she elected to stay in the communications area and turned back to the consol.

Get me the Reconnaissance Officer.

While she waited, she thought about Fila. In space, any number of things could go wrong. She knew Fila’s commander, Kralus, by reputation only. His professional experience indicted that he was an experienced and capable captain, a veteran of pirate wars, a man used to dealing with emergencies. Moreover, he was no stranger to this area, Heta recalled, having served as escort to another reconnaissance ship a year or so ago.

An image came on the screen.

Captain Heta, what’s the trouble? asked the officer. The officer was the captain’s counterpart and in some ways her peer. Although overall responsibility for the ship’s safety and operation lay with the captain, the Reconnaissance Officer was responsible for the mission and hence directed the activities of the ship’s sensors and 700 of the 1,100 crewmembers on board.

"Ple, we’ve lost communications with Fila and believe that she may be in some sort of trouble. We’re getting some communications, but its broken up and garbled. We need to get a fix on the point of origin."

Ple’s face took on a look of concern. He nodded. Of course, Captain. I’ll see to it personally.

Good. Heta responded. Why don’t I like this man? Heta thought to herself, not for the first time. In the background, the communications officer continued his efforts to raise the Fila.

Aloud the captain continued. "There’s something else. The possibility exists that Fila’s been attacked. I need to know everything you can tell me about that asteroid cluster ahead of us."

Ple was some twenty years younger than Heta. Unlike Heta, Ple was not a Fleet Officer, but rather a Science Officer and came under the Science Command. Most of his space experience, Heta knew, had come from operations with the First and Second Fleets. Somewhat unusually, Ple was the senior reconnaissance officer on this, his first deep space mission.

Ple was nodding. We haven’t been looking in that direction as it happens. The sensors have been concentrating on the void.

Heta nodded, not surprised. During a patrol in this sector, the real scientific interest, as well as military curiosity, focused on what lay in that direction.

Ple continued. We should be able to see pretty clearly to and around the asteroids. Ple paused. But look at what lays past the asteroids. I’ll put it on a screen for you.

Immediately, a sensor image of the area ahead of Dreva appeared on a screen in the communications consol. The asteroid cluster was relatively close and could be seen in some detail. Some distance beyond the asteroids, however, a thick line of smaller rocks and dust began that was difficult to penetrate with sensing devices. Anything in this area, friend or foe, would be almost impossible to detect.

Heta turned her attention to the asteroids. The area was clear. "Shouldn’t we be able to see Fila?" Heta asked. There was no sign of the ship.

Well, yes. said Ple slowly. A slight frown appeared on his face. He paused, staring down at his own consol. She’s not there. he said finally and looked back up at Heta. She’s not there. he repeated.

She’s somewhere. Heta said, more to herself than to Ple. She rubbed her hand across her lips. She was aware that Ple was staring at her, waiting for some comment.

If she’s not on the screen, she could be on the surface of one of the asteroids, she said finally or farther into the dust than we thought.

It would take some time, said Ple nervously but we would be able to find her, of course. He shifted uneasily in his seat. How… I mean, have you established direct contact?

No. replied Heta. He seems flustered. she thought.

At that moment, Heta’s train of thought was interrupted as the communications officer excitedly reported another contact.

Captain, we’re receiving a low frequency transmission, non-verbal, non-video, a radio code. It’s a distress signal.

As he spoke, the communications officer was punching in the instructions to track the signal. "It must be Fila, he continued but…"

What? Heta demanded.

The transmission is originating from beyond the asteroids the communications officer said.

Beyond the asteroids? Heta repeated. What are they doing there?

Yes, sir the communications officer said. Beyond the asteroids. Estimated position is rough, but they appear to be approximately fifteen degrees off of our base course, at a five-degree positive azimuth. Distance unknown.

Heta turned back to Ple, still on the screen.

Did you receive that? Heta asked.

Yes! At least they are able to transmit! He looked relieved and hopeful. Captain, let me get some of the other sensor systems involved and see what we find. I’ll be back to you.

The captain nodded, and turned away. "Raise Funi." she said.

"Funi’s been alerted and is on channel four, Sir. said the communications officer. Good work, without being told" thought the captain.

Heta walked to another screen and said without preamble, What do you make of this, Relu?

The Funi’s captain looked anxious. He shook his head.

Could be pirates, maybe even a base, but I don’t think so. This area is too exposed, too well known and too well patrolled. Besides, I can’t believe Kralus would be taken by surprise.

I agree. Heta said. Reconnaissance shows nothing. We have to investigate.

Too far for fighters or a shuttle. Relu said.

"Yes, you will have to take Funi. I am authorizing you to go now."

Relu was silent for a moment before stating the obvious. This might be a trap. he said.

Who? asked Heta, and they both considered this. They were not just on the border of the Republic. They were actually on the border of the galaxy. The line of asteroids represented a kind of a galactic shoreline. There wasn’t even a rock for at least a million light years, and no sign of life in that direction had ever been detected.

If they had been on the Republic’s other border facing the Sardos, there might have been cause for concern. Although the peace had lasted almost a century, no one ever took chances.

The asteroids, on the other hand, were a vast lawless area, home to wandering prospectors, hermits, and pirates. The pirate organizations could grow quite large, Heta knew. Terrorizing all life within their reach, these organizations preyed upon commercial shipping that by necessity had to pass near certain points of the asteroid line. The Second and Third Fleets were engaged continuously in suppressing these attacks.

As Heta’s question implied however, the region they were in now was not really conducive to pirate activity. Besides, an F-class cruiser was a powerful ship, unlikely to be surprised by any attacker, and even less likely to be overwhelmed.

Heta shook her head slowly. Reconnaissance shows nothing, she repeated. We have to investigate. I’ll notify Fleet Command.

Very well. Relu responded. "But I think that you should consider taking some precautions with Dreva. We don’t know what we’re dealing with and we don’t want Dreva’s equipment and capabilities compromised."

I agree. Heta replied. Once you’re clear, I’ll give the orders to begin dismantling some of the systems.

Relu nodded and signed off.

Heta turned back to the communications officer. We’re going to signal Fifth Fleet Command. she directed.

She glanced at the sensor screen and watched Funi pull away from Dreva. Heta calculated for a moment. Funi would reach the asteroid cluster in roughly one hour.

Captain, Reconnaissance.

Ple appeared on a screen. His face and voice reflected a tight control.

Yes, Ple. Heta said. To the communications officer, Heta said, Patch in the Bridge. I want the XO to hear this.

Captain, we swept a fairly wide circle using the asteroids as center. The only contact is the one your communications officer reported. The dust is preventing us from seeing clearly but the size, shape and weight we have been able to detect is the same as an F-class cruiser. The contact is using ion-crystalline propulsion.

"It’s Fila." said Heta.

There’s no other explanation agreed Ple. Tracking the path of that propulsion shows that the ship is moving farther into the dust, moving away from us.

Away from us? Heta repeated incredulously. Why a distress signal while they moved farther away?

Her course is at a slight tangent to our own. Ple continued. She will cross our base course in a few minutes, and unless she changes course, will enter into the dust within twenty minutes. At that point, we will begin to lose her.

Twenty minutes, thought Heta. Funi would never reach her in time.

Very well. Heta said.

What to do? Using Dreva for a search and rescue operation was out of the question. For security reasons, Heta knew that she could not take Dreva any closer to the asteroids or the line of thicker dust into which Fila was heading.

In fact, for a moment, she considered recalling Funi, canceling the mission, and beginning the trip home to base. Upon reflection, though, Heta could not abandon Fila without making some effort. She was not going to run ignominiously from some unknown unseen threat.

Get us lined with Fifth Fleet Command. Heta said. Admiral Bratu needs to hear this.

******************************

Bratu, Admiral Fifth Fleet

"Relu has had Funi in the vicinity of the last contact for an hour with no sign of the ship or survivors." Heta concluded her report.

We had a follow on dispatch. a staff member reported. "They received a still notice from Fila’s Command." Still notice was Fleet vernacular for a self-destruct confirmation from a Command system.

So, she’s gone. Bratu said quietly.

Or shut down deliberately by the crew, an aide offered. Command could be stilled to avoid falling into an enemy’s hands if a ship were boarded.

Bratu sat arched forward slightly in his seat, his face set but calm. Gathered around him in the communications center were three members of his staff.

Heta said that they’ve seen nothing out of the ordinary, nothing unusual or odd during the last few days, nothing to suggest that something was amiss. Bratu mused. Who is the Reconnaissance Officer?

Ple, Admiral. replied one of his aides.

Bratu knew most of the more senior officers in his command but the name meant nothing to him. The aide saw the slightly puzzled look on his Admiral’s face and anticipated the question.

The previous Reconnaissance Officer, Sar, was transferred to Third Fleet a week or so before the mission. Ple is his replacement.

Bratu knew Sar. He turned to one of his staff members. Did we know about this? he asked. Did Sar ask for a transfer?

The man grimaced. No, he didn’t. We were informed about it at the last minute. I didn’t like it and fought it, but it was no use. The man paused and then continued.

Apparently the Third has a major problem with a lack of experienced Reconnaissance Officers he continued. The story is that there has been an increase of pirate activity in the last nine months. The response has been to send in more probes and to set more traps. The result is that there are not enough experienced people to fill the slots. Sar didn’t really want to go, but there wasn’t much choice.

Bratu reflected for a moment. This was the sort of development that he really hated. At a moment of crises, when he should be able to deal with people he knew and had worked with before, he couldn’t.

Very well. he said at length. "Signal Heta that I approve of her decision to recall Funi and to end the mission. She should start for home as soon as possible. Tell her we’re sending Arek with part of E Group to meet her."

Bratu paused and then continued.

This may or may not represent some sort of serious threat. As far as we know there is nothing out there. And freak things do happen. But we can’t afford to take any chances.

We have to notify Fleet Staff Command. Bratu said. Let’s take care of a few things and then talk this through.

Within the next several minutes news of Fila’s loss was reported to all elements of the Fifth Fleet Command. Four of the five battle groups were deployed already, providing a deterrent to attack by the Sardos.

The fifth, E Group, was in its allotted rotation of reserve duty. Drajec, E Group’s commander, was ordered to prepare one squadron to leave within twelve hours to intercept Dreva and Funi.

The three major land bases and the various outposts were brought to an increased state of readiness.

******************************

Ple

Ple sat reviewing the logs on Fila for the third time.

There’s nothing there. he murmured to himself. He leaned back, frowning.

He had been less than forthright with Bratu and Heta. Only he and his staff understood the full potential of Dreva’s sensors. There should be no mystery as to what had happened to Fila. He should have been able to see everything in the area Fila was in, right up to the point where she entered the thick dust and he hadn’t been able to. The images were blurred, distorted.

But he had seen more than he had volunteered. The trace amount of ion-crystalline propulsion was far greater than would have been generated by one ship. He had been about to tell Heta that but didn’t. If there had been another ship there, they would have seen it, he reasoned. After all, they had seen Fila. The only explanation anyone could come up with was the refractive effects of the dust. But that was a stretch. He didn’t believe it.

Science Command had put him and his team on this patrol precisely because the last two patrols and come back with reports of other types of anomalies, too many things that couldn’t be explained, and here was at least one other.

For two hours Ple and his staff worked through the sensor data, scrubbing it, cleaning it, filtering every way they could think to do to no avail.

Eventually Ple sat back, sytaring at the screens, resigned. There’s nothing more we can do, he said. I will contact Science Command and bring them up to date.

After they left he spent some time working on his message to Science. He felt certain that Eitriu would be reading this, and he worked carefully on the content.

Carefully omitted from the message was any reference to his own reaction to what had occurred. This inexplicable event had raised an element of fear in him. Was something out there they couldn’t detect? That seemed a real possibility and that meant danger.

He wasn’t a Fleet officer, not really a spaceman and he had to admit that six months confined on a ship, on a patrol into the wilderness of the galaxy, had effected him. This was a fast track assignment and at first Ple had been pleased. But now he wanted to be back in the safety of the Systems, back on shore. Heta, Relu and the other officers had seemed concerned by what had happened, but were facing it in a way which he couldn’t understand.

He sent the message and with a sigh went over the sensor data again.

******************************

Bratu

An hour after the report by Heta and Ple, Bratu sent a priority dispatch to Fleet Staff Command.

Ninety years old, youngest of the five Fleet Commanders, Bratu had spent the first fifteen years of his career fighting pirates with the Second and Third Fleets learning the lessons of war in countless skirmishes, patrols, boarding operations, and prisoner interrogations.

The next forty-five years though, had been spent with the Fifth Fleet rising from cruiser captain to commander of a squadron, and then into Fifth Fleet Staff Command. His career had flourished.

At the age of eighty, an important opportunity had opened for Bratu. Orthnain, then Admiral of the Fleet, had brought him to the Admiralty Staff Command. Based on Juno, the center of government for the ten systems, the Admiralty was the center of power for the Fleet and the stepping-stone for advancement both in the service and in the government at large.

His fortunes had changed seemingly when Adri had succeeded Ortu as Admiral of the Fleet. The appointment to his present position, from outward appearances, had been viewed as something of a mixed blessing. Although Fleet command was prestigious certainly, the appointment was a cap to his career. There would be no advancement within the ranks of the Admiralty Staff Command, no opportunity to shape policy for the Fleet, and for that matter, the government. There would be no opportunity to become Admiral of the Fleet.

But now, all of Bratu’s attention was focused on the problem at hand.

At the conclusion of the meeting, Drajec was sent additional instructions, ordering him to conduct long-range surveillance of the area with Dreva. Ultimately Bratu knew, he had to make a thorough investigation of the area but he had not decided on the measures to be used.

Chapter Two

Stetius, Counselor

Stetius squinted against the afternoon sun to find the final line of the parade. These shuffling, ancient creatures filing by had, as youths, defeated the Sardos. Now lined and old faces stared ahead vacantly, lost in their own thoughts as they trundled by the thin crowd scattered along the boulevard.

The youngest had to be one hundred and eighty five at least, Stetius calculated. They were literally from a different world and time.

And in some ways a better world. Stetius sighed inwardly. He looked around at the people on the reviewing stand with him and in the crowd nearby. A child played in the grass with a toy while his parents looked at a map of the city. Tourists. Stetius recognized. They were in the capital to see the sights. He could see the woman looking at her timepiece. She turned to find some point in the skyline and then directed her husband’s attention to it. He looked down at the map and then shrugged.

This annual parade of commemoration was fast losing its meaning. Few if any had any notion of what those days had been like. Not just the danger. Stetius thought. The attitude. The unassuming air that people had about them. He shook his head.

How had such a people become so ordinary? Stetius wondered. So taken up with the trivial and vain? It tugged at him constantly nowadays. He had been a Counselor for over sixty years. Now at the age of one hundred and thirty, he felt out of touch. He was saying things which no one heard anymore. What had happened along the way?

It’s time Counselor. an aide whispered, startling him out of his reverie.

As Chairman of the Counsel’s Committee for Defense, Stetius was asked every year to speak to the veterans. It was the sort of job a politician usually hated to do. Not Stetius. His own father had fought in the war as a cruiser captain and Stetius had always been inordinately proud of that. He never minded these speeches.

Ascending the podium after his introduction, he looked over the old spacemen now seated in the square, and the crowd which had momentarily abandoned its other diversions to sample this new amusement.

Honored veterans. We gather again today to remember many things. Certainly we remember the defeat of the Sardos. We remember their departure from the Outer Region back across the zone to their home systems. We remember the relief, the sense of safety, the realization that our own form of life would not perish. We remember all of that.

But we remember other things too. We remember that a generation of young men and women went into space and went to war, to fight that a civilization might survive. To fight, that the ideals of that civilization might survive to ennoble future generations and survive to benefit other forms of life should they be encountered.

He paused and smiled. Oh, I’m sure none of you probably put exactly that way at the time. But looking back… that is exactly what you did. You met the challenge that faced your generation and time. And with God’s help you prevailed.

And you did something else too, no less important. You set an example for the generations that followed. You showed what courage and commitment can do, not just in battle, but in any challenge, facing any generation.

For each generation does face a challenge. Not always a challenge of arms, but always a challenge to see that the finest and noblest of civilization prevails as we chart our course, as our story as a people, as a form of life, unfolds.

And so we remember all of that here again today. And here again today, we honor you and we thank you.

Only a few of the relics stirred, and fewer still moved their arms and legs. Looking into their faces, though, as he always did, Stetius thought he saw gratitude. It was enough.

Coming down from the dais, he saw the boy staring at him with innocent unaffected curiosity. Slowly the child raised his hand in a salute.

******************************

Drajec, Rear Admiral, E Group, Fifth Fleet

Drajec, Rear Admiral, Commander of E Group, Fifth Fleet, sat with his staff and reviewed the taped dispatch from Bratu for a second time. He began to consider carefully the task he had been assigned. Potentially, he knew, he could be facing a very serious problem. A ship missing under these circumstances was an uncommon event. There were really only a few explanations for this type of disappearance. The ship had been involved in some sort of accident, or the ship had been attacked.

He and his staff were glad they had been chosen for this assignment. Fellow spaceman might be in trouble and, whatever the cost, they wanted to move to assist them. It was to people like Drajec and the others sitting around the table a sacred duty.

Emotions aside, neither ship appeared to be in imminent danger. Some hours had passed since Fila had disappeared and no attack had occurred. Funi had actually cruised through the area of potential trouble and reported nothing. And Dreva, with sensor and detection capabilities superior to anything at Drajec’s disposal, had reported no contacts of any sort.

Yet something had happened to Fila. If Fila had been involved in an accident, he and his staff reasoned, some remains of the ship and its crew would have been found. Neither Dreva’s sensors nor Funi’s inspection of the area had discovered any evidence of the ship whatsoever. An explosion powerful enough to incinerate all physical traces of Fila would have had to have been large enough to be detected by either of the other vessels. The residual effects of the energy needed to accomplish such destruction should have been detectable for a long period of time, certainly throughout the time it had taken for Funi to reconnoiter the area. And so the conviction was growing among Drajec and his staff that a very real possibility existed that Fila had been attacked and destroyed by some new unknown enemy, with some new and unknown weapon. At the very least, it was a plausible explanation and they had to plan accordingly.

That same thought must have occurred to Bratu and his staff. Drajec’s orders to position some of his ships between the area in question and the rest of the fleet was clearly designed to create a hedge against any potential danger. Drajec’s staff was starting to focus on how best to comply with this order.

To defend Dreva and Funi they would need to take as much firepower as could be mustered. Two Squadron had not yet been stripped down for major maintenance and therefore could be underway within ten hours. Three additional battle cruisers and eleven cruisers were available from the other squadrons and would be added to the force. The enhanced squadron should meet Dreva and Funi in three months.

But Drajec wasn’t satisfied with just defensive planning. He wanted a more proactive option. The threat, he reasoned, would come from a force trailing Dreva and Funi. They needed reconnaissance in that area. E Group had five fleet reconnaissance ships and Drajec ordered them underway. They would be ordered out in front of the main force.

As they sat at the table, Drajec dictated and sealed the order for the commander of Two Squadron and the other ships. Notification was prepared and transmitted throughout the rest of E Group as well. Within an hour of Bratu’s order, Drajec had developed and begun implementation of a response. The staff began to depart, hurrying to provide such assistance as they could to Two Squadron.

Drajec had watched the change in attitude come over his staff as they had begun to realize the consequence of their conclusions and their actions. This was not a war game. There was uncertainty, fear, the realization of potential danger. Every face was serious, intent on contributing, intent on focusing, on doing his or her own job correctly. Most of them had only limited combat experience against pirates with the Second or Third Fleets. Drajec had spent the first twenty odd years in the service with the Third Fleet, in combat regularly against pirates. Granted, that type of warfare was not the same as deep space fleet warfare, but it was still combat.

In some ways, Drajec had enjoyed those early years more than any other of his sixty years in uniform. He had been a very capable junior officer and an excellent tactician. The future had seemed very bright. Within the ranks of officers in his peer group, none had a better or more impressive record of trapping and attacking pirates. Drajec was a natural, instinctive warrior, possessed of a kind of measured audacity when faced with danger.

The magnitude of his accomplishments alone would have forced his superiors to consider him for more responsibility. But Drajec combined these results with sure judgment and an ability to inspire confidence in his people. All of these things had won him the deep admiration of the crews with which he served. Flushed with success, Drajec believed promotion to be merely a matter of time.

He had hoped, as most young officers did, of a more senior position within the Third Fleet or even of a posting to the First Fleet or to Command itself. This was the equivalent of royalty to a career minded Fleet officer.

But this was not to be. Quietly, without fanfare or announcement, a door had closed for Drajec. Gradually, without explanation or comment, the more choice assignments were funneled to others. His superiors remained friendly but became increasingly distant. As promotions came through for some of his peers, Drajec continued to hope, continued to perform. In spite of the increasing evidence to the contrary, Drajec believed that his performance ultimately would make a difference.

Then one day he returned from a patrol to find orders awaiting him. With a heavy, disbelieving heart, Drajec viewed the dispatch posting him to the Fifth Fleet and professional exile.

That had been a long time ago. Drajec rose from his chair, surprised to find the ghosts of forty years ago so strong. He wondered. Why now, on the eve of some unknown encounter, had they returned to wrestle with him?

******************************

Arek, Admiral of the Fleet

So. The tests have been extensive, Arek said summing up a half hour’s conversation. probably more extensive than was absolutely necessary. But they’re conclusive. This is a significant improvement over the Projectile Gun currently in use.

Hmm. Counselor Bilearous shifted his considerable bulk in his seat. Well. I don’t pretend to understand all of the scientific tests, and opinions and what not. Frankly, I’m not convinced that they understand it themselves! he said with an attempt at humor looking around at the others. His assistant Husin smiled.

Arek smiled thinly. Bredit sur remained motionless, politely attentive. Here it comes, he thought. Bilearous chaired the sub committee which approved appropriations for weapons systems. He wanted something for his cooperation. Bilearous had stalled the vote on the new PG for over two years, demanding more information, and rejecting what he had been shown.

Bredit looked at the cold, clever, calculating eyes and wondered where this was going. Clearly he wasn’t interested in proof, but Bredit was at a loss to understand what Bilearous did want. His sub committee had been asked three years ago to approve the acquisition of a new type of projectile gun for use on Fleet vessels. Known as PG’s, these guns were part of the Fleet’s close in defensive systems, or CIDS. Someone had built a PG much better than the one the Fleet had. The Fleet wanted to buy the new model as the old ones were replaced.

Every Fleet vessel and many merchant ships carried PGs. Hence, the monetary value of the contract would be enormous. And, since improvements of this type were rare, the orders would probably run for decades, perhaps as long as a century. Apart from the merits of the gun itself, this was no ordinary contract.

I’ve been doing this for over forty years, Admiral, Bilearous said chuckling. I’ve never seen anybody come to the Chamber with a proposal that didn’t have a long list of experts swearing that whatever they wanted funding for wasn’t the answer to whatever problem real or imagined they were talking about.

Arek flushed. If you think close in ship defense is an imagined problem, Counselor, I’d happy to take you on a battle cruiser into the void and trade shots with the Sardos.

I didn’t mean that, Bilearous said quickly.

Nevertheless. The proposal has been in front of your sub committee since before I took command of the Fleet. Every study, every civilian expert, every Fleet officer has testified as to the merits of this PG over the existing gun. The manufacturing has been structured so that there is virtually no economic impact on the communities engaged in making the current gun. What more do you need to make a decision?

Bilearous was silent for a moment looking down at the recent study.

Admiral, he said at length nodding his head you make a very compelling case. He turned to Husin. Notify the sub committee members that we’ll be discussing this next week.

He rose and offered his hand.

Admiral thanks for your frankness and your dedication.

******************************

Husin

You want this in the next week’s agenda? Husin asked.

Well, I told him it would be there’ he answered distractedly still looking at the report, so yes.

Husin waited and when nothing more was said asked, What do you want Counselor? he asked quietly. Husin had joined Bilearous thirty years ago. He had seen Bilearous manipulate the system time and time again in similar situations, working it to his own advantage.

Don’t know, Bilearous answered looking up with an air of indifference. But this is worth something to Arek. If he wants this bad enough he’ll figure out some way to make me interested in helping him.

Husin nodded. This was the game. Bilearous wasn’t talking about a bribe, or something illegal. Borderline improper? Well, probably not that either. But something that would enhance his stature in the Chamber, or something that would benefit people he knew on his home region on Lea? Certainly. Not the selfless pure of motive civil servant impartially straining to to do the right thing for the people of his region and the Republic.

Over the years Husin’s view of this process had changed. He had mellowed, felt inclined to make something good or noble happen once in awhile. In Husin’s opinion, this was Bilearous at his worst.

******************************

Bilearous, Counselor

He had been too flip with Arek. That had been a mistake. Still, Arek was so self-righteous he almost couldn’t help himself.

Arek was asking for something and didn’t seem to understand that politics played a part in the process. Yes, this new gun was an improvement but there was nothing fundamentally wrong with the old one. Lives weren’t at risk, he reasoned. He had every right to work this to his advantage. That was the way power was exercised. If some fool wanted to give something away for nothing, well that was their lookout.

Bilearous never questioned the right or wrong of the process, just the how does it work part.

He recognized that Arek was a good man and that doid mean something to Bilearous. Arek was just taking too long to get the message. Maybe he needs some help, thought the erstwhile counselor. Yes, that’s it, he said to himself. How to do that?

What do I want? he said have aloud. I’ll have to think of something. And then maybe he could get Husin to plant that seed with Bredit, just to help Arek along.

Yes, he thought my good deed for the day.

For a moment he sat in his chair and basked in the glow of beneficent mentorship.

******************************

Arek’s assessment

They climbed into the shuttler for the fifteen minute trip back to Fleet Command.

Bredit was twenty years Arek’s junior. He had been an officer in the First for ten years before being transferred to Fleet command. His career had been steady and seemed assured.

When Arek