First Command (3 page)

      
They proceeded further aft down the central corridor, past crews’ quarters and storage bays, to an iris door that opened as they approached.
 
Chief Miller met them at the door of what had to be the cleanest area on the ship.
 
It practically gleamed.

      
“Good morning, Captain, what can I do for you?”

      
“LT Connie Cortez, this is Chief Machinist’s Mate Glenn Miller.
 
Chief, this is LT Cortez.
 
If the Admiral approves, she will joining us as our new XO.”

      
Chief Miller wiped his hands on a rag and extended his hand to LT Cortez.
 
Chief Miller was always wiping his dirty hands off on a rag, but no one could ever figure out how he was getting them dirty in such an immaculate space.

      
“I’m glad to meet you, ma’am.”

      
“I’m glad to meet you too, Chief.
 
How do you like the new Diomede engines?”

      
Chief Miller was impressed with LT Cortez at that point.
 
Any junior officer that knew what type of engines had been fitted into his ship was a step up in his rating.

      
“I like them just fine, ma’am.
 
We tuned them up on our shake down cruise and are able to get her to FTL Power 5.89.
 
Any faster than that and the engine synchronizer can’t keep up.
 
We’d wind up corkscrewing or worse.”

      
“One of the techs in my section has been working on that very problem.
 
I’ll see if I can get her data and pass that to you.
 
Better yet, I’ll have her come by to see you.
 
She thinks she can get FTL Power 6+ out of three diomede engines like you have.”

      
“Chief Miller whistled slowly, “Ma’am, that would be sweet.
 
I’ll be looking forward to her visit.”

      
Kelly thanked the Chief and moved back forward.
 
“If you didn’t know it, you just scored major points with Chief Miller, our resident curmudgeon.
 
With only two officers on board, the XO fills in as engineering officer.
 
I think the two of you will get along fine – at least you will until the first time you enter engineering with a coffee cup.
 
Chief Miller is a little protective of his space.
 
He won’t stop you from coming in, just don’t spill any coffee on his deck or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

      
“Now, who have I left out?
 
Oh yeah, our Corpsman is Petty Officer First Class Rajna Kumar.
 
Sickbay is here to port, just forward of the port stores locker.
 
He can diagnose most anything and provide most treatment just short of organ transplants.
 
Petty Officer Benitez is our Yeoman.
 
Chief Billings is on leave right now, but he is our quartermaster and runs the bridge crew.
 
That completes the 50-credit tour.
 
Let me walk you to the quarterdeck.”

      
Kelly wished her good luck and saw LTJG Cortez on her way.
 
When he returned to his cabin, he called his boss, CDR Timmons, and Captain Hasselrode, Admiral Craddock’s executive officer, to let them know he had a recommendation for XO and to set up appointments for LT Cortez.

      
Kelly was relieved that he had finally found someone that he could trust with his ship and crew.
 
He could see she had a lot to learn, but so did he when he first came aboard.
 
He would have to retrain her from the bad lessons she probably learned in the R&R Directorate.
 
Here there would be no decisions by committee.
 
There would be no inspector leaning over her shoulder reviewing her work for accuracy and completeness.
 
She would have to be able to make correct decisions on the fly that affected all on board.
 
Not that Kelly worried about such things, but his command and career would ride on her decisions.
 
Chief B would have to do what all chiefs did, train a new officer in her duties.
 
She and Kelly had their work cut out for them.

* * * * *

      
Commander Edgar Timmons looked at his patrol schedule after he closed the communication with Kelly Blake.
 
There was a hole in the schedule, waiting for the Vigilant to be ready for patrol.
 
He would have to send the next ship in from patrol back out on an expedited turnaround to meet his taskings if Kelly couldn’t get his ship ready.
 
He had faith that his old XO would get the job done.

      
He called Captain Hasselrode and they scheduled LTJG Cortez’s office call with the Admiral; Edgar scheduled her office call with him for just before.
 
He would escort LTJG Cortez up to the Command Group, to ensure she got there on time and knew where to go.
 
He put both appointments on his calendar and informed Kelly and LTJG Cortez.

      
Edgar looked around his office and missed the Vigilant.
 
As captain, he was master of his fate and out among the stars.
 
As squadron commander, he sat behind a desk and watched other men go out where the stars are few and far between.
 
He couldn’t really even accompany one of his ships on more than a brief one day inspection cruise, due to the lack of guest quarters for senior ranks on a Valiant–class scout ship.

      
Edgar looked up and saw Master Chief Watson standing in the door with the coffee pot in his hand.

      
“Excuse me, sir, but I know just what you’re thinking.
 
It’s the same thing I’m thinking.
 
Why on Armstrong did I take this promotion and give up my ship?”

      
Edgar let out a hearty laugh and said, “Is it that obvious, Chief?”

      
Oh, yes, sir, it’s that obvious, because I see the same look in my eyes when I look in the mirror each morning.
 
I have the answer to the question, though.”

      
“What is that, Chief, but I think I can guess?”

      
“We’re here to pass on our knowledge and experience to a new crop of ship’s captains, so hopefully they won’t make the same mistakes we made.”

      
“Yes, Chief, so they can go out and make new ones.
 
Now are you going to share that coffee or just keep your hand warm with it?”

      
Laughing, Chief Watson walked over and filled Edgar’s cup.

      
“Did I hear that LCDR Blake has selected an XO?”

      
“Yes, he chose LTJG Connie Cortez from the Repair and Refit Directorate.”

      
“I read something about her in the base notices.
 
She got a commendation for the ion gun redesign we recommended after our run in with that K’Rang torpedo ship.
 
I’ll pull her record for you.”

      
Chief Watson left and Edgar reflected on what he said.
 
Of course that was why he was squadron commander, but he still wished he could get out in space and have some fun sometimes.

* * * * *

      
In an inside office in a non-descript office building in a northern suburb of the capital city on the K’Rang home world sat Shadow Lead Agent H’Topa.
 
He perused recruitment reports forwarded to him by his senior source within the Galactic Republic.
 
This was a fruitful source and one he had developed from an initial recruitment report from his former senior source.

      
H’Topa had worked this source carefully from the start to one of great worth.
 
This source was good at identifying prospects early in their career, but with the right future potential.
 
This was good for H’Topa because he was patient.
 
Haste was not a good quality for an agent handler.
 
The Humans had a saying, “The race does not always go to the swift.”
 
H’Topa believed this.

      
The case folders before him contained intimate details on prospective sources.
 
He knew their wants, their needs, and their aspirations.
 
He had a knack for finding those unwilling to wait or needing an edge to get ahead.
 
Occasionally he found one that just needed credits, or love, or sex, or commitment to a cause.
 
He could use them all, although he stayed away from those that needed chemical stimulants.

      
His network was extensive and secure.
 
He had a Human support network of credits handlers, dead drop servicers, transporters, enforcers, and other specialties when he needed them.
 
They helped him service his agents.

      
Credits handlers ensured payments got to the right people on schedule.
 
Dead drop servicers passed messages, credits, and equipment to agents and picked up messages and bulky items from agents, all with no physical contact between them.
 
Transporters were his mules and moved packages to or from dead drop specialists.
 
They were the only Humans to make contact with the K’Rang, but even they passed packages through multiple cutouts.
 
Enforcers took care of sources that got greedy or who talked to Human security forces, or ones that just got sloppy.

      
Human remorse was one of H’Topa’s greatest impediments to greater success.
 
Too many times, he spent resources on a source, only to have it run crying to security, commit suicide, or lose itself to gambling, chemical stimulants, or sex.
 
If he ever found a drug that eliminated Human remorse, there was nothing he couldn’t accomplish.

      
Of course, this would be oh so much easier if he could freely travel in Galactic Republic space.
 
For years, he had urged establishing diplomatic relations with the Humans, but he was always shouted down by the reactionary element within the military.
 
No matter how much value he could show them to having an embassy and consulates with full intelligence staffs, they were just too xenophobic to hear him out.
 
H’Topa suspected they did not want the Humans to see just how weak the K’Rang Empire was in relation to the Galactic Republic.
 
“Our 56 worlds are a fraction of the 150+ Human settled worlds.
 
Perhaps if we spent a little less credits and time on ill-conceived military adventures and more on settlements, we could match the Humans,” he thought in irritation.

* * * * *

      
Fleet Reporting Officer Alistair Bennett placed his ship in geosynchronous orbit around Shepard and linked into the planetary communications system.
 
He let his computers download the planet’s data buffer containing the last year of data and voice signals to process, and took a nap.
 
In an hour, he had a list of suspicious communications for further study.
 
He discounted a dozen on the list as normal criminal or immoral activity and no concern of his.
 
Two were overly secretive lovers planning and coordinating affairs.
 
Seven were shady business dealings, more of interest to securities regulators than him.
 
The remaining two were possible covert communications to authorities in the K’Rang Empire.
 
Alistair followed up on these.

      
Both communications sets were similar in that they contained hidden data.
 
One set contained hidden video files in a cooking recipe email.
 
The other contained hidden instructions on placing and receiving something from a dead drop.
 
Alistair had his first clue toward dismantling the cell or cells.
 
Now he searched the data for links from the recipients to others.
 
Pretty soon, he found he had nothing.
 
He had never seen a cell with such tight security.

      
Alistair ran down the specifics on the recipients.
 
He got their names, photos, addresses, aliases, and all sites that they frequented regularly.
 
He looked for similar interests, friends, and activities, then cross-referenced their known IP numbers against other aliases and email addresses – and found the common link.

* * * * *

      
Shadow Lead Agent H’Topa reported promptly to Shadow Leader J’Kraul as ordered.
 
The Shadow Leader kept his attention on what he was working as H’Topa patiently stood at attention before his desk.
 
It was a standard trick to put your visitor off balance.
 
H’Topa and J’Kraul had attended many of the same espionage training courses together and knew all the techniques.
 
It did not work on H’Topa.